The Black Swan

By Robert Trainor

Lust, incest, and murder form the backdrop of this novel where Kaitlin Devers, a beautiful seventeen-year-old woman, is charged with murdering her mother. The trial seems to be an easy one for the two prosecutors who have been assigned to the case. After all, Kaitlin has confessed to the crime, her fingerprints are on the murder weapon, and just thirteen hours before Stacy Devers was murdered, Kaitlin told her uncle that she was going to murder her mother.

The reason for Kaitlin's animosity towards her mother is that two days before Stacy was murdered, she had found out that Kaitlin was having a torrid affair with Lance Hansen, her twenty-eight-year-old uncle. The day after Stacy discovered this, she barged into Lance's house, put a gun to his head, and threatened to kill him if he ever came close to her daughter again. Lance considers the death threat to be very real, and the next morning, he meets Kaitlin and tells her that they will have to stop seeing each other for a while.

Kaitlin is convinced that Lance is trying to end their relationship, and it is then that she tells Lance that she is going to murder her mother. And then, just thirteen hours later, it is Kaitlin who discovers her mother's dead body and calls 911 with the most bizarre 911 call that the detective investigating the case has ever heard. Two days later, after Kaitlin's fingerprints are found on the murder weapon, she is arrested, and within a half hour, she makes a full and voluntary confession to the crime.

By the time the trial begins, Kaitlin has renounced the confession. This is not simply the action of one who is hoping to escape justice; rather, there are a number of things in the confession that couldn't possibly be true, so it throws the validity of the confession into doubt. But after a contentious preliminary hearing to decide whether the confession will be admitted into evidence, the judge rules in favor of the prosecution. This has the practical effect of making Kaitlin's defense very difficult, and it becomes much more difficult for Kaitlin when she decides to take the stand and attempt to explain her actions on the night of her mother's murder. Despite being extensively coached by her lawyer, Perry Dixon, Kaitlin loses her composure, and her time on the stand turns out to be nothing short of a train wreck.

But Perry Dixon has one more card to play. And this card is the black swan. Originally, back in the 1800's, it was felt that there were no black swans in existence. But then, one fine day, someone discovered a black swan. This might seem like a minor, if vaguely amusing event, but beginning in 2001, a man named Nassim Taleb began publishing a number of books that concerned the problems of randomness, probability, and uncertainty. Basically, he used the metaphor of a black swan to describe an event that comes as a surprise, has a major effect, and is often inappropriately rationalized after the fact with the benefit of hindsight. To put it very simply, a black swan event is an event that no one saw coming.

Perry's black swan is definitely a black swan. But will it be enough to save Kaitlin?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Trainor
• Release date: Feb 3, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224045242

Robert Trainor

Over the past twelve years (since I retired at the age of 59), I've written nineteen novels, four novellas, four non-fiction books, and seven anthologies, all of which you can find in the Kindle Store. Instead of writing a biography of myself, which seems rather irrelevant, I would prefer to write a biography of my books. Here, in the order in which they were written, is a brief sketch of the plots, themes, and subject matter of these books.1/ The Voice of the Victim describes a series of murders in a small city. I've always felt a great deal of empathy for the victims of violent crimes, especially those who are murdered by guns. What, I wondered, would these people say to us if they could speak? When reading this book, it is important to remember that my intention, from first page to last page, was to present the voice of the victim. And, to me, this voice is not a straight-line accusation of weapons and murderers but tends to veer to a pervasive mockery and total indictment of modern culture. This novel is much different than anything else I have written, and there will be many who will object to what the "voice" is saying.2/ Some Things Are Sweeter than God is somewhat along the lines of a classic murder mystery but is certainly not one of those books where the conclusion is some wild revelation that no sensible reader could ever discern beforehand. The protagonist is a forty-year-old woman lawyer who, in her role as a public defender, is required to represent a man who is accused of brutally murdering his ex-girlfriend.3/ The Road Map to the Universe is a well-constructed novel--at one time, I was a tournament chess player, and this book required a great deal of planning and analysis. Essentially, it's a highly unusual murder mystery, but the perceptive reader may be able to identify a standard plot theme lurking in the background. The Road Map also examines an interesting philosophical question: In a universe of four billion galaxies, what relevance, if any, does the human being have?4/ The Great Barrington Train Wreck, a truly offbeat social commentary, includes a unique type of murder mystery and is one of my favorite novels. Although I almost never include anything from my own life experience in my books, I was, just like the protagonist in the Train Wreck, homeless for many years. So I'm familiar with the lingo and attitude that some of the homeless have. This is a catchy, captivating book where the plot seems to materialize out of thin air until it becomes the elephant in the room. Also, to my mind, this tale could describe what happens to Holden Caulfield, the anti-hero of the Catcher in the Rye, as he approaches forty. It's not all peaches and cream! Especially when he falls in love with the daughter of a millionaire, and even more especially when he ends up on death row.5/ Your Kiss Is Like the Sweetest Fire describes a teenage romance between Jaime and Renee, who were adopted at a young age into the same family. It seems illogical to me, but in almost all states, the law views a sexual relationship between adopted siblings who live in the same family as a crime of incest--exactly as if they were related by blood. So Jaime and Renee have this difficulty to contend with, and also, their mother and father are both rather repulsive characters who are totally incapable of helping them. Wait until you meet Renee--I love her.6/ Requiem for the West is partially based on an apocalyptic poem that I wrote during the 1990's. Ten thousand hours is a lot of time to spend on a seven-hundred-word poem! Requiem is also an examination of some apparently abstract themes that seem highly relevant to me: 1/ The pervasive role of explicit sexuality in our culture and the very different ways that people react to it; 2/ The often farcical, Dilbert-like nature of the modern workplace, in this case a college; and 3/ Is doomsday just around the corner? The 1960-2000 version of myself considered a nuclear apocalypse to be inevitable, but nowadays, I'm ambivalent.7/ Frontier Justice was easy to write because once Adriana Jones arrived on page 10, she took over the book, and all I had to do was keep up with her as she overpowered every obstacle that crossed her path. I hadn't intended for that to happen, but that's the way life goes sometimes. Do I agree with, support, condone, or advocate Adriana's way of doing things? Difficult questions. Adriana is my creation, so I have to take some responsibility for her, I suppose, but I look at it this way: To be true to a character, one has to let the person speak and act in a way that is appropriate to his or her personality. I just can't legislate them into political correctness! Adriana didn't just overpower the other characters in Frontier Justice--she also overpowered me. I really like this book--I wish, as a writer, I could think of more characters who are as dynamic as Adriana.8/ A Tale from the Blackwater River is a novella that is meant to be a satire on a certain kind of story that is showing up far too frequently nowadays, but on another level, it's just kind of a humorous tale that was a lot of fun to write. This book is written in the first person by a forty-two-year-old woman named Alanda Streets. I almost published it under the pen name Alanda Streets because I thought some people might say that no woman would ever write a story like A Tale from the Blackwater River, but for those who feel that way, I hope you will ask yourself this question: If the name Alanda Streets had been on the cover of the book, instead of mine, would you have felt that a woman couldn't have written it?9/ The Blackwater Journal is another Alanda Streets novel--this time, she is only sixteen. I couldn't seem to get away from Alanda--she does have a spunky survivor's attitude towards life that appeals to me. In this book, she has to call on all her resources when her evil father imprisons her in a room and tells her that she has only a week left to live. As the days pass by, the terror mounts on her own personal death row. Does Alanda escape? Maybe so, maybe no.10/ Love Letters (Soaked in Blood) is another murder mystery that has a humorous undertone, which many will probably miss. The problem with writing a murder mystery is that anything that can be thought of has already been done about a thousand times. The only original idea left would be to have the most obvious suspect turn out to be the murderer. Think of it--that's probably never been done! And so...maybe you can guess the rest.11/ The Book of the Dead is about a man who goes to his 25th reunion and meets his high school sweetheart. The two of them embark on an impulsive twenty-four hour car ride that will take them through three southern states and bring them face-to-face with death. This is a tale where the boundaries of ordinary reality are stretched out a little bit! I'll leave it to you to decide whether The Book of the Dead is a fantasy or a reality.12/ Destroyed by Malice sees the return of a character who played a minor role in The Voice of the Victim. He's the world famous novelist Barker Drule, but unfortunately, he (and his wife) exit the book on page 1 when they are gunned down in their driveway. It isn't long before detective Jeff Willard is convinced that the murderer is a member of the Drule family. Perhaps it's Lenore, the older daughter, who was, years ago, secretly raped by her father; perhaps it's the beautiful Raylene, who wrote a novel about a rape victim that her father managed to have the publishing industry blackball; perhaps it's Ricky, the cocaine-addicted son who is desperate to get his hands on his father's money; and perhaps it's Dalton Drule, Barker's irascible eighty-two-year-old father who just happens to own the gun that was used to murder his son. In the end, when the truth finally comes out, there will be very few left to tell the tale.13/ How to Write an Imaginative Novel takes you through the whole process of writing a novel and then uploading it to Kindle. Among the many things covered are: Where will you find a plot? What is the best way to find names for your characters? How important is it to punctuate your book correctly? Is there a quick way to learn punctuation and sentence structure? What is the best way to write dialogue? What kind of things should one avoid in a novel? What is the significance of the first draft and why is it so important? How does one begin a book so that it immediately commands the reader's attention? How does one revise and edit a novel? Is it possible to create the cover for your book without spending any money? How does one convert a book to the correct format so that it can be uploaded to Kindle? And finally, how does one upload a book to Kindle?14/ I Ching 2015 contains a complete translation (minus the Confucian commentaries) of this ancient Chinese classic. Also included are detailed instructions on how to consult the I Ching using either yarrow stalks, coins, or dice. (For those who have been using coins, one should be aware that a significant error has crept into the method that many people use to cast an omen. This error, which involves using either three or four similar coins will seriously affect the accuracy of the omens you receive.) Additionally, there is extensive advice on how to interpret an omen. By using the correct method of interpretation, you will be surprised at how much clearer omens become. As part of this advice, I have posed a number of questions to the I Ching and have then interpreted the omen I received. Finally, for each hexagram, as well as many of the lines in each hexagram, I have included my own observations as to the essential meaning of these hexagrams and lines.15/ Blood and Blackmail is an elegant murder mystery with an unusual plot twist that took me some time to piece together. For those readers who enjoy the challenge of solving a crime before the final chapter arrives, this novel should provide you with a truly interesting puzzle. I doubt many people, if any, are going to see the underlying deception that runs throughout this tale because...if I say anything else, I might help the reader unravel this mystery, and I certainly wouldn't want to do that!16/ Fairy Tales by Martians takes a humorous look at the theory of evolution. Science, of course, claims that the human being originated from an amoeba that eventually became a tadpole that eventually became a frog and so on and so forth. However, I just can't conceive of the fact that ten million years ago, two frogs mated in a swamp and because of that event, I eventually arrived on the scene. What kind of a genealogy chart is that? Neither does the seven-day religious version of events appeal to me, so what I'm left with is a very cynical view of both the religious and scientific theories concerning the origins of our existence.17/ The Book of Dreams repeats a very old idea that has been used in many a novel. But here, in this murder mystery, the idea is taken to another level entirely and contains a twist that not many will see coming. The clues are there, starting with the poem in the Preface.18/ The Dark Side of the Moon is a tale about an attractive high school teacher who falls in love with one of her students. However, Carolyn Black is nervous that her sexual liaison with the student will ruin her career. Eventually, she tries to break off their relationship, but when he threatens to commit suicide, Carolyn is faced with an excruciating dilemma.19/ The Murder of Nora Winters was inspired by John Dickson Carr who wrote a number of locked-room mysteries. In this type of mystery, the murder victim is found in a room that does not allow the killer any means of exit. The doors and windows are all bolted from the inside, and it's considered very poor form for the author to create a room where there are sliding walls or secret panels. The solution to the murder of Nora Winters is, I think, relatively simple, but I've woven in enough deceit and misdirection to confuse all but the most astute readers.20/ The Vanishing Victim is a tale of a psychiatrist and a troubled woman who comes to him for counseling. What she reveals to him proves to be a confession to a brutal crime, but he is unable, because of the doctor/patient privilege, from revealing this crime to anyone, including the police. But even more troubling is that the woman's confession, although it contains a number of factual inaccuracies, turns out to have a terrifying reality of its own.21/ The Fatality Game follows a series of innocuous crimes in a rich neighborhood that seem to be more pranks than anything else. But when a woman is murdered in her bed, Detective Cody Barnes realizes that there is something evil lurking under the placid veneer of swanky mansions that are inhabited by millionaires. And when Cody becomes romantically involved with one of the earlier victims, the beautiful Lucinda Kane, the case begins to take on a life of its own that will eventually lead to the deaths of three more people.22/ How to Write an Intelligent Murder Mystery describes some of the adventures I encountered while I was writing murder mysteries (of my twenty-one novels, thirteen are murder mysteries.) This is a somewhat unusual instructional book that attempts to relate the problems encountered in the writing of a murder mystery to the more general problem of writing fiction in today's market where any new novel is almost instantaneously buried under an avalanche of new novels.23/ The Real Meaning of Life is definitely one of my favorite books. It's written in the first person by Patrick Devlan, a twenty-seven-year-old guy who writes murder mysteries. But his father, who is dying of pancreatic cancer, wants Patrick to write something that will take his readers to a "better place." Patrick decides to follow his father's advice, but a few days later, his roommate's pregnant girlfriend is murdered, and Patrick becomes entangled in a real-life murder mystery. Eventually, after his roommate is convicted of the crime and sent to death row, Patrick is faced with a dilemma that will lead him to the discovery of the real meaning of life.24/ Flight 9525 is a non-fiction book that attempts to answer the question as to why there is so much suffering in the world. For the most part, this book bypasses the usual political, psychological, and social reasons for suffering and examines the following: If God is real, then why do human beings suffer? Why would an all-merciful, all-loving, and all-powerful Being permit its creations to suffer? The usual explanations, such as the hypothesis that God granted man free will, don't answer the question at all. In fact, this is a question that's never been answered satisfactorily.25/ The Scriptwriter is the tale of a man who becomes entangled with three different women. There's the incredibly beautiful woman, the incredibly rich woman, and the incredibly homeless woman. Which one will he choose? Events, mishaps, and character flaws lead him to an interesting decision.26/ The Murder of Marabeth Waters contains a considerable amount of subtle black humor and describes the investigation that ensues after a prostitute is found strangled to death. Detective Devin Driver is quickly able to focus on a suspect; not only did this man send a threatening note to Marabeth, but also, her blood is found in his car. As it turns out, the real murderer lurks elsewhere, and unfortunately, Devin isn't a particularly perceptive detective, so it isn't surprising when the wrong person is convicted of the crime. However, even if Devin had been Sherlock Holmes on steroids, he undoubtedly wouldn't have solved this murder.27/ The Trial of Shada King--a district attorney in Hartford, Connecticut, is charged with manslaughter in the shooting death of the man who had raped her ten days before the shooting. Shada claims that she acted in self-defense, and since she was wearing a recording device at the time of the shooting, her claim of self-defense seems to be valid. But why was she wearing the recording device? The prosecuting attorney is convinced the crime scene was an elaborate stage production that was intended to deceive those who would be listening to the tape and that the victim was murdered in retaliation for the rape.28-34/ Finally, I have seven anthologies on Kindle that combine complete versions of many of the books listed above: Four Novels, 5 Novels, Four Murder Mysteries, The Blackwater Novels, Dark Tales, Six Novels, and Five Murder Mysteries. The purpose of the anthologies is that it gives the reader a chance to buy, for instance, five novels of mine at the rock-bottom price of $2.99.I spend a great deal of time revising my books. After finishing the first draft, I go through the book at least eight more times--first page to last page. Each journey through the book is slow and painstaking--no less than three hours and no more than thirty-five pages a day. From my experience, the kind of errors that pop up on some of the later readings can be rather surprising, if not downright alarming! I particularly look for inaccurate punctuation, lackluster sentence structure, and inaccurate or repetitive vocabulary. I also do not permit confusing sentences to stand--I can't imagine that any reader will want to read a sentence twice because I couldn't find a way to explain myself clearly.Finally, I would ask you all to keep an open mind about novels by an author who has no brand name. I am quite unusual because I do not advertise myself in any way, shape, or form (outside, I guess, of this little biography). My books are well-written, entertaining, and thought provoking, but they are often truly original, and I worry about the page-six syndrome. That's the point where some readers abandon a book by an unknown author because of a single sentence, idea, or attitude that seems amateurish to them. Have faith that there are some genuine diamonds in the Kindle arena and have faith that your instinct to buy one of my books was a good instinct. If you read any of my books to the finish, I think you'll feel that your time was not wasted because these novels are not cheap imitations--they are real creations.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Shortly after her divorce became official in March of 2018, Stacy Devers went sixty miles north of her house to buy a gun in a state where one could be purchased immediately without any hassle. Although the divorce from Colin wasn’t a particularly nasty one, except for that day when he had totally lost it and threatened to kill her, she couldn’t get his death threat out of her mind. He had been roaring drunk that day and had apologized profusely afterwards, but nowadays, getting drunk had become a habit of his. Unfortunately for everyone around him, Colin was not a happy drunk, and he often became surly and abusive for about an hour once he became plastered, after which he would pass out. 

And so, on a bright sunny day in the middle of April, Stacy drove to a gun shop she had seen advertised on the internet, and after treating herself to lunch at a restaurant that seemed overrated and overpriced to her, she cruised around in her 2017 Mercedes before she parked the car in a large parking lot near the gun store. Although she was somewhat spooked by guns, Stacy had decided, somewhat against her better judgment, that it was better to be safe than sorry, which meant that she should have a gun near her at all times. Guns frightened her, but it had reached the point where Colin frightened her more. There was nothing like a gun to stop a man in his tracks—true, pepper spray would do the same thing, but it wasn’t a permanent solution. And sometimes, permanent solutions were the best solutions. Luckily, Stacy’s daughter had been present when Colin made the death threat, so if Stacy did end up shooting her ex-husband to death, she would be able to prove that she had provocation. Of course, it was dangerous business shooting someone, and Stacy was hardly eager to become embroiled in a murder investigation. The scales were still tilted in a man’s favor, so even if she was acquitted, a lot of people would wonder what had really gone down if her ex-husband ended up with a bullet hole through his heart.

But having a gun to fall back on was a source of great comfort to Stacy. She’d keep the gun in her handbag, and if Colin ever showed up again, she’d keep her handbag right beside her, and she’d demand that he sit at least ten feet away from her. Stacy’s lawyer had wanted her to get a restraining order, but what good would that do if Colin suddenly lost it and decided to put an end to her life? Restraining orders were OK if the man respected the law, but if he had drunk himself into a violent rage, the only reliable restraining order would be a gun. 

Stacy spent almost an hour in the gun store and finally settled on a SIG Sauer p320. The guy who owned the gun store was very enthusiastic about the p320 and claimed it was better than a Glock, so Stacy paid for it with a credit card, bought some ammunition, and after asking the guy to show her how to load the gun, which was simple, she left the store fully armed and loaded. At first, it felt a little strange to be carrying around such a strange thing in her handbag. Just think, said Stacy to herself, with one twitch of the finger, I could end a person’s life. That’s a lot of power! Maybe, if it came right down to it with Colin, she should go for his legs and only try more lethal shots if he kept coming towards her. I’m hyper-fantasizing, she muttered to herself. If Colin ever sees me pointing this gun at him, he’ll run for the hills. Nobody had ever accused Colin of being brave, so even if he was drunk, Stacy didn’t think there was any real chance that she’d ever have to use the gun. But it sure did feel nice to have a loaded pistol in her handbag!

It was still early in the afternoon, so Stacy strolled around aimlessly until she came to an old antique shop. Stenciled onto the large front window of the shop was: Ebenezer’s New and Used Antiques. Stacy was amused by the sign on the window, and since she liked to collect antiques, especially grandfather clocks and glassware, she opened the door to the store. Walking into the place, the old moth-eaten shop seemed like something out of the movies—it obviously didn’t see much traffic and was in need of a professional cleaner. Dust was everywhere, and since the windows of the place were shrouded in dark curtains that were almost closed, the shop, even at this time of day, was bathed in an artificial twilight. No one seemed to be around, and Stacy was about to leave when her eyes were drawn to a large porcelain statue of a black swan. It wasn’t quite lifesize but stood almost three feet high and seemed to be gazing at her with an imperious and haughty stare. Such a magnificent creature! Stacy could see this character sitting high up in her TV room as he looked down on any humans who might be in the vicinity. In the back of her mind, Stacy had a vague recollection that black swans were supposed to mean something, but she couldn’t remember what.

Stacy walked over to a counter that had an old-fashioned cash register and rang a bell that was next to the register. Finally, after she had rung it three times, a very old man, who must have been at least eighty-five, appeared from a room that was behind the counter. What is it, Missy? he said, in an irritable voice.

Stacy wondered how this guy ever made the rent, what with his dilapidated shop and crusty manner. I was interested in purchasing that black swan—the one over by the window.

The old guy laughed in an unfriendly way. I hope you didn’t come in here looking for an antique because that swan is just something my daughter bought at a yard sale.

So how much are you selling it for? said Stacy.

It’s always money, money, money with you young things nowadays. When I was your age, customers used to show some interest in the proprietor of a store before they got out the brass knuckles and started haggling about money.

So how much are you selling it for? repeated Stacy, in an icy tone. Meanwhile, for the first time in her life, she realized what a temptation loaded guns could be. How’s this, Ebenezer? she imagined herself saying as she pulled out the gun and put two bullets into him. But, of course, you couldn’t do things like that—for one reason or another, everyone would be incensed that you shot a defenseless old man to death.

Ebenezer cleared his throat, That’s not the way it works around here, Missy. What I like to do with customers is dicker about the price—it’s the best part of the day for me. It’ll also be a good experience for you since you’re probably only used to dickering with men. So what say you? Why don’t you start off with a price, and I’ll make a counteroffer. It’s just like what you do with men before you marry them as you try to figure out how much the man is willing to offer you for your services, while he tries to lowball you into a used car and a honeymoon to some sleazy motel in New Jersey. Once again, the old geezer laughed—but it was such an evil laugh! Stacy was definitely tempted to walk out of the place, but the gun in her purse gave her a feeling of real power. After all, if Ebenezer got too sassy, she could pull the gun out of her purse and say, How would you like to dicker with this, you old bag of bones? It was just a fantasy, of course, but it was such a pleasant fantasy!

I’ll say forty dollars, said Stacy.

You must think I’m Santa Claus, Missy. I’ll say four hundred dollars.

Look, said Stacy, I’ve got places to go and things to do—one hundred dollars—take it or leave it. To emphasize her point, she began to move towards the door.

Sold! said the geezer triumphantly. That’s why I like to dicker with people, he said with a malicious twinkle in his eye. You never know how stupid they’re going to be.

Stacy walked up to the counter and gave him her credit card.

So that’s the scam, he said. I might have known.

What’s the problem now? said Stacy.

Missy, do you seriously expect me to deal with credit cards? I don’t even have a machine that you can swipe it through. Cash on the barrel—that’s the way Davy Crockett did it. If I had been in the habit of taking checks and credit cards, I’d have died in the poor house years ago.

Stacy happened to have a hundred dollars on her, so after taking five twenties out of her handbag, she put them on the counter.

The old guy snatched the twenties up in an instant. I’d have sold it to you for ten dollars, he said. Anyways, you must be out of your mind to be buying a black swan. Don’t you know what a black swan means?

What’s so special about a black swan? said Stacy as she moved over to where the swan was perched on a rickety table.

My child, said the old man, whose voice had turned softer, almost compassionate. I really think it might be wiser for you to forgo your purchase. I’m afraid I can’t return your money because all sales here are final and nonrefundable, but no sane person would want to have a black swan in their house. Too dangerous!

Stacy laughed, went up to the black swan, and said Boo! in a loud voice. Turning around, she looked at Ebenezer and said, If they’re so dangerous, then why do you have one in your store?

I hadn’t thought of that, said the old man, in a puzzled way. I was only thinking of making some money off the thing. Probably my daughter was trying to jinx me, but now that you own the critter, I’m free and clear of the danger.

I don’t believe in fairy tales, said Stacy to the pathetic old bugger, so I’ll just lug this thing out to my car.

Alright—have it your way. But I have to warn you that black swans almost always bring bad luck. Don’t you know what a black swan event is?

Not a clue, said Stacy.

Listen very carefully, said Ebenezer, in a voice that was supposed to scare her. When you see a black swan, it’s a warning of an unforeseen event that can bring extreme consequences.

Where did you ever come up with that idea? said Stacy.

Missy, said the geezer dismissively, you’re in for a rough ride, what with all your showboat attitudes. But you mark my words—something very unexpected is going to happen to you within the next few weeks.

Just about everything in life is unexpected, said Stacy, who was becoming a little bit alarmed by the old man’s sinister prediction.

But black swan events are more than unexpected, Missy—they’re catastrophic. However, since you’re young and figure that you're invincible, I’ll let you waltz out of here with the black swan. Just don’t say that I didn’t warn you.

Just as Stacy reached the door with the swan, the old guy shouted out, Next time you come here, I’ll sell you a ticket to the Titanic. 

CHAPTER TWO

I can’t believe she would do something like that to you, said Kaitlin.

Believe it. I thought I was going to die.

My mother really put a gun to your head and said that she would kill you if she caught us together?

That’s exactly what she did—I was so frightened that I thought I might pass out.

Lance, you know that I would do anything for you—there is no way that my mother is going to destroy our relationship.

We’ve got to lie low for a while. It’s too risky, and—

No, said Kaitlin, I’ll never let her do this to us.

It was very early in the morning, only seven o’clock, and they were sitting in the back seat of his car at the far edge of the park behind some large bushes. No one could see them—it was the place they usually went to for their romantic encounters. The place where they had done so many things that her mother would never have approved of.

We have to, Kaitlin.

Have to what?

Just back off for a month or so until I can figure things out.

I can’t live for a month without seeing you, Lance. I’ll go crazy; I’ll kill myself—I really will.

Kaitlin—

You think I’m bluffing? Or maybe I should kill her—she’s the one who deserves to die.

Don’t talk that way, Kaitlin—it’s crazy talk.

So what are we supposed to do? Maybe she’s following us now and is just waiting for you to get out of the car before she kills you.

That’s why we have to cool it for a while—just for a month or so.

And how did she ever find out that we were seeing each other?

I have no idea, said Lance.

Kaitlin tried to kiss him—how many long, very long, tumultuous kisses had they shared? How many times had they practically ripped their clothes off before they plunged into the darkest and most delirious of ecstasies? And now it was all going to be ruined by her Puritanical mother. Actually, her mother wasn’t really Puritanical at all—not when it came to herself. Look at the boyfriend she had now! Like something you would find in a rubbish bin behind a bar. She’d told her mother more than once that she could find someone a lot better than that loser guy she had picked out. But her mother liked to think that she knew all the answers, knew all the answers to everything under the sun. And now her crazy mother had gone off and threatened her boyfriend’s life. Actually, Lance was a lot more than a boyfriend. He was her world—everything else was just a shadow reality. Only Lance was real. Only his kisses—and everything else that came after—meant anything to her. But now it looked like all that was going to be taken away so that she could go up to her room at night and study algebra or any one of the other nonsensical subjects that they were always obsessing about at school. 

Rage! Leaping out of the car, eyes blazing, heart throbbing, she spat out at him, Don’t worry about it, Lance—by this time tomorrow, she’ll be dead. I’m going to find her gun, the one she threatened you with, and then I’m going to shoot her in the head with it. Kaitlin bolted off, with him chasing her, and it wasn’t until they reached the other end of the park that he caught up with her. Kaitlin! he yelled at her as he grabbed her by the arm and twisted her around.

Let go of me, she screeched.

Kaitlin, don’t do anything stupid.

She yanked away from him. He’d never seen such anger—not even when her mother had been pointing the gun at him. Kaitlin’s mother had been like a hurricane, but this was a tornado. Kaitlin backed away from him in a menacing style, spit on the ground, and said, with a kind of venomous snarl, This time, when someone puts a gun to somebody’s head, someone is going to die.

Kaitlin—wait. Let me take care of her—I’ll do something.

Like what?

He had no idea what to say—he wasn’t about to murder her mother, but Kaitlin was so young and crazy that he was worried about what she might do. Kaitlin—you don’t have to do anything. Just wait for a little bit—everything will settle down.

Forget about it! I’ll deal with her—you can go back home and kiss your wife.

There was nothing he could think of to say, and he watched her disappear as she ran, like lightning, away from him.

CHAPTER THREE

The next day, on Thursday, April 26th, 2018, the following article appeared in the Carrington Daily Register—this was the local newspaper that served the town in which Stacy lived.

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LOCAL WOMAN FOUND SHOT TO DEATH

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Stacy Devers, an executive at the Carrington Memorial Hospital was found shot to death in her home last night. The gruesome discovery was made by her daughter Kaitlin who had just returned home. At this time, the police have released almost no details about the crime, which happens to be the first murder in Carrington since 2014. The Chief of Police, Alex Sanderson, has scheduled a news conference for two o’clock this afternoon where it is expected that he will discuss the case and take questions from the press.

The previous evening, at 9:04 P.M., the Carrington Police Department had received a 911 call from Stacy’s residence. Here is the full tape of that call, which was made by Kaitlin Devers, who was Stacy’s daughter.

911, what is your emergency?

There was the sound of a woman crying hysterically.

Hello! What is your emergency?

I just couldn’t do it! said Kaitlin, between sobs.

Ma’am, can you please tell me why you called this number?

No, no, no—it can’t be. Couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t do something like that.

Ma’am—

My mother has been murdered. I don’t think I could do that—I really don’t think I could do that.

That was the end of the phone call, so the dispatcher immediately notified the police, and a patrol car was sent to the house where the phone call originated from. It took the police officer two minutes to get there—the front door was unlocked, and after knocking for a few seconds, Charles McKenzie, a police officer with twenty years’ experience, entered the house with his gun drawn. In the first room that he encountered, he saw that a large dresser had been ransacked and its contents strewn about on the rug.