|buy prints of select halfsquatch photographs at etsy or dawanda. (prints of all photographs are available upon request)||day 89
It was the first time Rebecca had ever wanted anybody dead. Her story was front-page news.
HALFSQUATCH HEARTBREAK! REBECCA: “I JUST FEEL TOTALLY STUPID.”
She’d barely slept. When she returned to the house with Aaron, Devin’s things were gone. The sensitivity of her hangover was replaced by regret and dread. By morning, she’d convinced herself that she’d overreacted, that Devin had to have a reasonable explanation, that she’d pushed the one man who truly loved her away.
But then there was the story in the Reporter.
There was his face, on page three, and that smile. There was a picture of her as well, looking sad with smudgy makeup. It was typically blurry. She said she felt betrayed and used. He said their arrangement was casual and mutually beneficial. She said they’d met and fell in love at Yoshi Oba’s Art Motel. He said they’d met and made a deal there. She said she thought he was her best friend. He said he was her only friend. She said they inspired each other artistically. He said that he was the one who came up with the idea for Rebecca’s nesting dolls. She said she was his girlfriend. He said she was like a little sister. She said she’d never felt that way about anyone. He said he felt sorry for her.
The Reporter poll asked: What do you believe? What he said? Or what she said? Cast your vote online now! Results in tomorrow’s paper!
Aaron didn’t want Devin dead, not exactly. But he did want him out of town and out of the press. The last thing he needed was for Rebecca to break down or, worse, flee. Not when they were so close to success. The legal argument for Rebecca to be awarded custody of her mother was undeniably strong. The case was precedent-setting. It would make Aaron famous, but not rich. Not yet. He had to win to land a syndicated newspaper column and one of those cushy paid-pundit gigs on cable TV news. He had to win to command top dollar on the university speaking circuit. And best of all, if he won he’d never have to practice law again.
Bob Richman wanted Devin dead. It was habit now, avoiding newspapers, magazines, television and radio news. But when Lisa tossed a copy of the morning’s Reporter on the kitchen table when Bob was eating his noon-hour breakfast, he didn’t hesitate to open it and read.