Breaking into Prison Read online

  Annie’s eyes came to rest on Noella’s sleek body and the no-hair-out-of-place hairdo. Full, thick, blonde hair, Annie’s favorite color on a woman, and an oblong face made fuller by the stylish haircut. Noella had pale blue eyes, a pointed nose and thin lips. It’s not that she wasn’t beautiful, she just didn’t have that look that made Annie catch her breath.

  “Okay, I’ll see you in a bit,” Noella said, and clicked off her phone. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

  “I’m the new service tech, Annie Nichols, Ms. Youngblood.”

  Noella walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled water. “Annie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Ms. Youngblood’s best friend and publicist, Noella Rutherford. We’re about to do a taping for NBC, is this something that can wait?”

  Just as Annie was about to respond, she saw a large, dark mass flying through the air straight at her. Lucy had her pinned to the floor before she realized that it was a dog. Lucy towered over Annie, her muzzle arched, her fangs ready to strike. Annie didn’t move a muscle. She worked out religiously, and was muscled and toned, but she knew better than to wrestle with a dog who could easily bite her head off with a snap of its steel-trap jaws.

  “You have very nice smelling breath, for a dog,” Annie stated calmly. A huge, muscular, growling dog with slobber in the corners of his mouth, and… oh shit! A large drop of drool landed on Annie’s forehead and she grimaced. “Okay, that’s just disgusting.”

  Finally, Lucy sat down on Annie’s stomach and stared at her.

  “Uh… help,” Annie said, gasping for breath.

  Deidra came running in behind Lucy and had seen what happened. Instead of commanding Lucy to retreat, she gawked at Annie.

  “Friend or foe?” the young college student asked.

  “I can’t breathe,” Annie said, slapping her hand against the carpet.

  “What’s all the commotion?” Krystal asked from the doorway.

  Krystal Anderson owned the condo below Trudie, and introduced herself the day Trudie and Leigh toured the seventh floor before they bought it. Krystal was very outgoing, bombastic and flamboyant, and liked to wear a lot of chiffon. At thirty-one, she took over her much-older husband’s software company, when he was violently murdered five years ago. Krystal and Trudie bonded over similar tragedies.

  Krystal walked up and bent over Annie. “Did she break in?”

  “She works here. Get that damn dog off of her, Deidra,” Noella demanded.

  Trudie ran into the room wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her middle and tied in front. She held a smaller towel in her hand, which she’d been using to dry her hair. “What’s all the commotion… oh, my God. Who is that?” Trudie was standing in front of Annie’s head, looking at her upside down. From that angle, Annie could have passed for a man with her short, cropped hair and dark, thick eyebrows.

  “Can’t breathe,” Annie repeated.

  Deidra pulled on Lucy’s collar. She had taken the leash off the dog when she saw the apartment door standing wide open. She hadn’t seen Annie until it was too late.

  Trudie stopped her. “No, wait. Let me get my gun first.”

  “Calm down, Trudie. It’s just the maintenance man, for God’s sake,” Noella assured her.

  Trudie didn’t believe her. “Are you sure?” she asked cynically. She held onto her towel and leaned over Annie, inspecting her closer. A drop of water from her wet hair hit Annie on the forehead, washing the slobber down Annie’s brow. She’s too cute to be a burglar.

  Looking up into Trudie’s violet eyes, then letting her gaze wander down Trudie’s soft, supple neck, across her wet, shiny shoulders, to the rise of her small, pink breasts still warmed from the shower, Trudie took Annie’s breath away. And that was by no means an easy feat, considering Annie had no breath left to lose, thanks to the 120-pound dog sitting on her abdomen.

  Bruno, the cat, walked up and rubbed against Trudie’s bare leg. Then she sniffed Annie’s hair, sneezed in her face, and walked off toward the kitchen.

  Damn, what kind of zoo is this? Annie asked herself.

  “Remember, old Sam retired finally. This must be his replacement,” Noella explained.

  “That’s right, he retired last month,” Krystal confirmed.

  Trudie walked around to look at the intruder right side up.

  Annie looked up at Trudie with large, dark, pleading eyes, and nodded. “Can’t breathe.”

  “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry,” Trudie said. “Lucy, come. Sit. Stay.”

  Lucy stood up and moved off of Annie, sitting down in front of Trudie as if to protect her should she change her mind.

  Sucking in a full breath of air, Annie slowly sat up. “Nice doggie,” she said, staring at the dog’s teeth gleaming under folds of wet skin.

  Trudie stepped around Lucy and held out her small hand, helping Annie get up.

  Hiking up her tool belt and tucking in her denim uniform shirt with the company’s logo patch over her breast pocket, Annie looked at the dog again, who, even though she was sitting down, still came up to Annie’s logo patch.

  “Damn, that’s a big dog,” Annie exclaimed, pulling out her checkered handkerchief and wiping her face. “Is it all right if I pet her?”

  Trudie was surprised. Most people, like Noella, would be terrified of Lucy, even if they hadn’t just been knocked to the floor by the dog. Trudie looked at her new repair woman with a friendly eye this time, and was so glad she had been wrong about her. Short, sandy hair, square face, firm jaw, dark eyes and darker eyebrows, Annie exuded the kind of confidence and self-awareness that Trudie loved in a woman. Plus she was tall, muscular and wore a tool belt around her hips that gave her that western cowboy aura. Surprised, Trudie realized that Annie was the first woman to peak her interest in years.

  “Oh, she wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Trudie said. “Here, better let me put your hand on her for the first time, so Lucy will know that you are welcomed here.”

  Annie held out her long-fingered hand, and Trudie turned it palm down, placed her small hand on top of it, then placed both their hands on top of Lucy’s head.

  Noella moved closer. Is she flirting with her?

  The dog growled at Noella simply because she knew Noella didn’t like her, but Annie thought the dog was growling at her. “Oh, come on, girl. Dogs love me, and you will too, just give me a chance.”

  As if Lucy understood what Annie was saying, she raised her head so she could scratch under her chin. “Oh, who’s a good girl?” Annie cooed, scratching the sweet spot that had Lucy thumping her leg against the floor.

  Trudie and Annie’s hands lingered for a very long time, until Annie whispered, “Can’t breathe.”

  “Did you say something?” Trudie asked.

  “No, uh. Thank you, I think the dog and I are going to be good friends,” Annie assured her. “Say, you must be cold in that lucky towel. Oh, uh, I mean in that wet towel. I can wait, if you’d like to change first?”

  Trudie smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

  “Come to think of it, I didn’t get yours either. My name is Annie Nichols, and I’m your go-to person for any problems you need fixing.”

  “You sound like my shrink,” Trudie joked. “I’m Trudie Youngblood, and I’m always needing something fixed in this place.”

  Annie is flirting with her! Noella moved between them and looked at Trudie. “You need to hurry, honey, the film crew will be here at any moment.”

  “Oh, yes, I had forgotten all about them. Annie, if you can stick around awhile, I’d like to talk to you about a few ideas I have.”

  “Of course, Trudie. I’m not that busy today.” Thank God.

  Trudie smiled, a deep, happy smile that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She carried that smile with her when she turned to Deidra. “Thank you for walking Lucy, Deidra. Would you mind putting her in her room so she doesn’t sit on the film crew, too?”

  “No problem, Trudie. Come on Lucy, time for your nap.”

&
nbsp; “Krystal, you’re welcome to stay and watch me answer the same ol’ questions again, if you’d like?”

  “Nah, I’ll wait and catch it on television. Break a leg,” Krystal cheered on her way out the door.

  Lucy followed Deidra, as she had done so many times before, and walked toward the back, where her small, oblong room, which was originally designed as a storage room, was nestled between Trudie’s office and the guestroom. The dog had her own mattress, when she could coax the cat off of it, and a super-sized food bowl and auto water dispenser. The door to the room had a small window at the top, and a cat door for Bruno at the bottom, even though the door was rarely closed.

  “Listen, Annie, let me make something perfectly clear,” Noella said after they were alone. “Trudie is very successful, and much sought after by her fans. It’s my job to keep the riffraff away from her, and I take my job very seriously, understand?”

  Surprised, Annie tried to suppress her anger. Bitch, please, what turnip truck did you fuck under? “Understood. I’m just here to do my job, nothing more.”

  “Well, see to it that there isn’t anything more, and you might just keep your job. She’s been through too much to have some cowboy like you strut in here and take advantage of her.”

  “I’m not—”

  “What are you two talking about?” Trudie asked as she walked back into the room barefoot, wearing a dark blue linen pant suit.

  Noella laughed. “I was just telling Annie that her tool belt reminded me of a skit on Saturday Night Live, where the maintenance man always showed his butt crack when he bent down.”

  “And I was assuring her that no one sees my butt crack without a personal invitation.” Annie turned back to Noella and whispered, “And trust me, you won’t be receiving one.”

  *

  It took the film crew forty-five minutes to get set up in the living room. They moved furniture, erected spotlights, and placed a vase on the entertainment center for added color. Trudie would be interviewed from the couch with her framed book covers and awards in the background. The makeup artist brought her own styling chair, which looked like a tall director’s chair, and immediately began working on Trudie’s makeup and hair. Noella talked with the producer while Trudie got her makeup done, and Annie, not wishing to get in the way, observed everything from the kitchen. Deidra had seen it all before and had to get to her algebra class, so she left.

  Distractedly, Annie rubbed her hand where Trudie’s hand had been, as she smiled at the cute way Trudie crinkled her nose each time the makeup brush tickled it.

  The director looked over at the makeup artist. “Ready to go?”

  “Ready,” she replied as she combed Trudie’s bangs to the side and added a touch of hairspray to hold them in place. Then she pulled the tissues from around Trudie’s collar and tucked them in her tool belt with the brushes and can of hairspray.

  Trudie walked over and sat down on the couch, and the soundman was instantly by her side, fitting a wireless lavalier microphone to her collar. He walked back over to his sound equipment and said, “Ms. Youngblood, say a couple of words please, so I can check the levels.”

  “Testing, one, two, three,” Trudie said mechanically, looking over at Annie chatting with the makeup artist in the kitchen. She laughed when she realized the two were comparing tool belts. Suddenly she felt something strange in her heart, as if a thousand butterflies were fluttering about inside.

  The producer, who would also be the interviewer, sat on a couch that had been positioned in front of Trudie. Noella stood just behind the director’s chair as he asked for a system’s check.

  “Sound, ready.”

  “Lights are ready.”

  “Camera is ready.”

  “All right. Roll tape. Quiet on the set.”

  “Trudie Youngblood, winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award, the American Book Award, and three Lambda Literary Awards, has only written a total of five books… so far. Her last three books, her latest one out this week, are a series about espionage, intrigue and love, which became best sellers that drew the interest of Hollywood. The first two of the series were turned into blockbuster movies, each grossing over $400,000,000 at the box office. Now, with the release of the third, and we’re told, the final book in the series, Breaking into Prison, production on the final movie has begun.”

  Trudie blushed. She could never get used to the accolades and still had trouble believing that her books were so popular. It all meant nothing to her now. “Yes, I’m so pleased,” she said lightly.

  The producer continued, “I read your book, Trudie, and it was so good. But it’s much darker than the first two. Why did you decide to go down that path?”

  Trudie looked at her for a moment, her eyes welling up. It was time to tell the truth, because now that the series was done, she was under no obligation to pretend anymore. She swallowed back her tears and found the courage to say, “My wife was murdered in front of me right before I started the final book.”

  Chapter Two

  Everyone was stunned by the revelation, not because they didn’t know about it, but because this was the first time that Trudie had ever spoke openly of it. The producer knew she had the opportunity of a lifetime to scoop all the other networks. The director waved his hands to encourage the producer to keep going, but Noella stopped the proceedings.

  “Let’s take a break. I need to talk with my client. Somebody get her a water, please.”

  Annie closed her gaping mouth and turned toward the sink, trying to make sense of what she had just heard. The hairdresser went to the ice chest and pulled out a bottle of water.

  The stylist offered Trudie the bottled water, a box of tissues, and her condolences. “Here you go, Ms. Youngblood, and I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” Trudie said, setting the bottle to the side and taking a tissue from the box.

  Noella waited for her to leave, and then looked at Trudie. “Are you sure you’re strong enough to go through this right now?”

  “Yes, it’s been long overdue,” Trudie answered, dabbing her eyes. “Leigh deserves to be recognized, too. She was the love of my life and my biggest supporter.”

  “But why now, Trudie?”

  Trudie looked over at Annie, who had turned back around. Annie smiled softly at her. “Because, today, for the first time since Leigh died, I feel young again.” Turning back to Noella, she said, “Don’t worry, my shrink says I’m ready for the next step. Let’s do this.”

  “Adjust the zoom, clapper, mark second take,” the director instructed. “Quiet on the set.”

  Noella looked at Annie and frowned, but Annie didn’t see her, she was too focused on Trudie. The hairdresser walked back into the kitchen and leaned against the counter next to Annie.

  “Is she all right?” Annie asked.

  “I think so. She’s certainly very courageous.”

  “Do you know what happened? I don’t remember hearing about a murder.” Annie had not read any of Trudie’s books, and never paid much attention to celebrity news.

  “Not the whole story, just that her wife was stabbed seven times, apparently by a deranged fan.”

  “Holy shit!”

  The director sneered at Annie. “Quiet on the set!”

  “Trudie, are you ready to talk about it?” the producer asked as the camera zoomed in for a close up of Trudie’s face.

  “Yes, I am. Leigh, my wife, was the reason I kept writing. I met her at a book signing for my second book, and instantly fell in love with her. Leigh understood my motivation for writing these books. She knew what I wanted to convey to the readers. It was… kismet.” Trudie wiped her eyes again. “At that time, Arkansas didn’t allow for same sex marriages, but we were married, in our hearts. We wore the rings...” She held up her hand and showed the diamond ring Leigh had put on her finger. “We went on a honeymoon, and she traveled the world with me on my book signing tours. We had so much fun and met so many wonderful people, all of whom fell in
love with her, too.”

  “The police suspected that a stalker had been following you since your first book was published, is that correct?”

  The main suspect had been Alice Tarkington, a twenty-four-year-old woman from Little Rock, with a previous charge of stalking that was never proven. She was brought in for questioning a couple of times, but the police couldn’t find enough evidence to tie her to the murder. She had since become the owner-president of one of Trudie’s largest fan clubs. Trudie had met Alice before Leigh was killed and had done video chats with her often since that day. She’d never believed that Alice was responsible, because the club wasn’t like most clubs. This fan club raised funds for one of Trudie’s favorite charities, The Doris Day Pet Foundation, and hosted book reading sessions, many of which Trudie participated in, via webcam.

  “Yes. I got threatening letters and dead roses, that kind of thing. I blew it off because Leigh made sure I was safe. She and I bought this condo because of all the security it offered, and all the security she added to it. She was an Air Force security specialist. She knew her stuff.”

  Annie jerked her head up. A base cop? She quietly moved closer, wanting to shorten the distance between her and Trudie’s pain.

  Trudie looked out the window, her eyes glistening. “Leigh was killed before we could move in.” She turned back to the producer. “They stalked me, but they killed her. I will never understand why. She never hurt anyone.”

  The producer leaned forward and put her hand on Trudie’s knee. “She was in their way, Trudie.”

  Trudie grabbed another tissue and lowered her head. She wiped her eyes before looking up again. “And she’s still in their way. She’s here, watching over me every day.”