Gestation Seven by J. Stewart Willis

Author:J. Stewart Willis [Willis, J. Stewart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781543410136
Publisher: Xlibris US
Published: 2017-03-30T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

WEDNESDAY - BRENDA DEHAVEN

Brenda worried about calling Linda again. She hadn’t taken the news about the little bimbo’s visits at all well. That was to be expected, but now David had really put his foot in it. She didn’t get the Alexandria newspaper but had heard the local news this morning and run right out and gotten the paper. She read it several times. So that’s why he was going out late all the time. She couldn’t believe he might be a killer. How could anyone murder two babies, only days old? And living right next door the whole time? Poor Linda. She had really married a piece of work.

Right after lunch, Brenda noticed a television truck pull up. WUSA. She wondered if a reporter would come to the door. She decided she’d better get ready and ran upstairs to dress. She wanted something that would look good on television, something that would show off her figure. In truth, most of her clothing showed off her figure. She wished it wasn’t so hot. She would have liked to have worn a sweater. A blouse didn’t show enough. T-shirts seemed too casual. Tank tops did too, but what the hell?

She found some white shorts and a green tank top. She switched bras. She didn’t want any straps. Benda pulled the tank top over her head and squeezed into the shorts. She admired herself in the full-length mirror on the bedroom door.

Downstairs, she slipped on some sandals and again looked out the kitchen window. Another van had arrived. No big antenna on this one. Maybe a radio station or a newspaper. She wondered if she should wait. Maybe all the channels would send vans. Then again, what did they say? “Strike while the iron’s hot?”

Brenda picked up some magazines, casually walked out the front door, opened the trunk of her Mustang, and loaded the magazines in, her back to the trucks. She heard truck doors open and close. She waited a few seconds and then turned to see three people coming up the driveway—a man carrying a television camera and a man and a woman carrying microphones. She stood sideways so the cameraman could take pictures, but he wasn’t ready. He waited for the microphones to come up.

Brenda tried to be coy. “Hey, what’s going on?”

They held the microphones out. The cameraman positioned himself so that only the woman and Brenda were in his viewer. The woman put the microphone to her mouth. “Is David Neale your next-door neighbor?” Then she held it out to Brenda.

“Yes, but he’s not home.”

The microphone went back and forth.

“And what’s your name?”

Brenda hesitated, pretended to be nervous. “Brenda DeHaven.” She didn’t want to be one of those people who didn’t want to be identified, that had the cameras trained on their legs the whole time they were talking, not that she thought she had bad legs.

“Did you see the article in today’s paper about Mr. Neale?” They were asking like they didn’t want to identify the paper, didn’t want to share the story.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.