Tit-For-Tat
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About this ebook
Journalist Josie Fox lives a solitary life. When her half-sister Amy crashes her beloved car and suffers severe head trauma, later lapsing into a coma, Josie rushes to her side. Amy’s neurosurgeon is not optimistic in his prognosis. Josie is then faced with the more than likely possibility that Amy will never regain consciousness. Josie investigates the car accident and learns, much to her dismay, that Amy had tried to take her own life.
Josie uses her investigative skills and uncovers the reason for Amy choosing to commit suicide – her boyfriend reneged on his promise to marry her after his divorce became final.
While Josie sits at Amy’s bedside praying for her recovery she comes up with a plan to pay back Amy’s boyfriend for his callous disposal of her sister.
Bliss Addison
Paralegal Bliss Addison is the author of, among others, A Battle of Wills and the sequel, With Malicious Intent; Restless Souls, Wolfe She Cried, and One Millhaven Lane. She' s the youngest of eight children, became a great-aunt at twenty years old and is a if-it's-going-to-happen-to-anyone person.If she's not at her computer, she's probably taking a long walk with her dog or plotting her next story.Originally from a small town on the northern shores of picturesque New Brunswick, she now lives in Saint John, NB Canada with her husband.
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Tit-For-Tat - Bliss Addison
TIT-FOR-TAT
By
Bliss Addison
Published By Bliss Addison
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2024 Bliss Addison
*Previously Titled Foxy and
Previously Published by Write Words, Inc.*
This book is a work of fiction based entirely on the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental. Real places mentioned in the book are depicted fictionally and are not intended to portray actual times or places. All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Smashwords Edition
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Other Books by Bliss Addison:
A Battle of Wills (Shannon Murphy Series – Book I)
With Malicious Intent (Shannon Murphy – Book II)
Restless Souls
Wolfe, She Cried
Murder at the Villa Maria-Sedona Retirement Home
A Waning Moon
Deadly Serum
Prophesy
One Millhaven Lane
Sleight of Hand
Watching Over Her
A Silver Lining (The Monahans – Book I)
A Little Rain Must Fall (The Monahans – Book II)
A Mistaken Belief (The Monahans – Book III)
Summary:
(A Novella (Humor/YA)
Journalist Josie Fox lives a solitary life. When her half-sister Amy crashes her beloved car and suffers severe head trauma, later lapsing into a coma, Josie rushes to her side. Amy’s neurosurgeon is not optimistic in his prognosis. Josie is then faced with the more than likely possibility that Amy will never regain consciousness. Josie investigates the car accident and learns, much to her dismay, that Amy had tried to take her own life.
Josie uses her investigative skills and uncovers the reason for Amy choosing to commit suicide – her boyfriend reneged on his promise to marry her after his divorce became final.
While Josie sits at Amy’s bedside praying for her recovery she comes up with a plan to pay back Amy’s boyfriend for his callous disposal of her sister.
Josie has her revenge and a lot more she hasn’t bargained on.
CHAPTER 1
I’m putting the finishing touches on an article when the telephone rings at twenty minutes to midnight. I figure it’s my boss Ed Stryker at the Freedom Times & Transcript and answer without checking call display.
Hi,
I say.
I’m surprised when a voice I don’t know asks, Is this Josie Fox, Amy Lenihan’s sister?
Yes. Who is this?
This is Constable Curtis Dempsey of the Freedom Police Department, ma’am. I’m afraid I have bad news. Your sister was in a car accident tonight and is presently being prepped for neurosurgery at John Howard’s.
I bombard him with questions he cannot possibly answer What? How? What happened–
Realizing what I’m doing, I take a breath and say, I’m at my cottage in Devil’s Creek. It’ll take me forty-five minutes to get to the hospital.
That’s where I’m calling from. We’ll talk more when you get here.
I send my article to the newspaper and run to the bedroom where I throw a few things in a carry-all. Back at my desk, I call Ed to tell him what happened and that he should probably arrange to have someone write my column for the next few days. Then I break all speed records getting to Freedom.
At the hospital, a nurse informs me that Amy is still in surgery and may be for a while. She suggests I make myself comfortable in the family waiting area.
Time passes in a blur. I’m swiping at my tears when a uniformed police officer walks up and introduces himself as Officer Dempsey.
Can you tell me what happened?
I ask.
Your sister missed the turn at Billy Jones’ Curve and plunged into the ravine. We’re still trying to determine the cause of the accident. Is she familiar with the area?
I cringe as my mind envisions her car flying through the air. A chill snakes through me. A-Amy’s li-lived in Freedom a-all of her life and knows the city like I do.
He frowns. That’s strange. There are no skid marks on the road to indicate she tried to stop. It’s as though she came into the turn unaware of how sharp it is.
Maybe she fell asleep at the wheel.
I make the suggestion, but I’m doubtful. Amy’s too conscientious to drive when she’d know not to.
We can rule out alcohol. She wasn’t drinking at the time.
Amy’s a teetotaler, anyway.
I can’t understand how this accident happened and, for my own peace of mind, I need to find out how it did.
Dempsey stares at me. If it wasn’t an accident–
What are you suggesting? That my sister tried to kill herself?
I don’t need to think about this at all. That’s preposterous. She’s too much in love with life to want to leave it on her own free will.
I’m sorry, ma’am, but we have to take everything into consideration.
I understand, but we can cross out suicide. Trust me on this.
He nods.
Now that we ruled out road conditions, driver’s state of mind, negligent driving, what’s left to consider?
Was her car in good repair?
He pulls out a coiled notebook and rifles through the pages until he comes to the last one. A 1969 robin egg blue Mach 1. It’s a write-off, by the way.
She loves that Mustang and always keeps up the maintenance. It’s her most prized possession.
I sigh. We’re running out of possible causes. Anything else?
Just to be complete in our investigation, we’ll have the car checked out.
I shrug. Maybe something or someone caused the accident. An animal darting across the road, for instance.
If so, your sister can fill in the blanks later. In the meantime, I’ll put in a work order to have her car inspected.
Dempsey closes his note pad and stuffs it in his pocket. I’ll keep you informed about the investigation, Ms. Fox.
Thanks.
I smile.
After he leaves, I pace the room, repeating the mantra: Amy can’t die. She’s too young. She has too much to live for.–
Miss.
I raise my gaze from the floor and look at the nurse standing in the doorway. My breath catches in my throat when I ask, Yes?
I just got word your sister will be in surgery for several more hours. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?
I don’t want to leave. I’m the only one she has. She’ll be so scared when she wakes and I’m not here.
The nurse walks into the room and says in a soothing voice, There’s nothing you can do for her now. Take care of yourself so you can be here for her when she gets out of surgery.
An impulse makes me want to argue, but I know she’s right.
I leave my contact information with the nurses and ask that they call me immediately when Amy is out of surgery.
On the way to Amy’s apartment I keep thinking about what Dempsey suggested about the accident being a suicide attempt. Every time the idea pops into my mind, I shoot it down by telling myself there’s no truth to it.
What if there is?
What if I’m wrong?
If I am, Amy will need counseling after she recovers.
It’s after two o’clock when I let myself into her apartment with the spare key under the flower pot on the stoop. Setting my purse and carry-all on the kitchen table, I walk into the living room. It’s as I expected to find it. Everything’s tidy and immaculate. She’s so much more of a homemaker than me. I’ve always been envious of this about her.
I move to the sofa and look under it, as if dust balls will tell me why an upbeat and chronically happy person like her might choose to end her life. There’s not one tiny speck of dust on the floor.
Standing, I put my hands on my hips and run down the short list of possible reasons for suicide: job; health; depression; addiction – alcohol, gambling, drugs; a man. Since Amy has never suffered from depression or any addiction, the most likely culprit is a love gone wrong. I still can’t see her becoming so distraught over a failed relationship she wanted to kill herself. Any man should feel lucky to have her in his life.
Moving on to her landline, I check the last number called. She phoned for Chinese food three nights ago. We share a passion for carryout. The menu doesn’t matter as long as we don’t need to cook.
I look around for her cell phone. After a couple of seconds, it dawns of me she would have had it with her. I imagine the hospital staff will get her personal effects to me.
Amy and I don’t speak to each other every day, but we keep in close touch either by texts or email, never letting a month pass without a personal visit. We both seem to sense that if it’s any longer the distance will grow wider. It’s an unspoken pact between us. Sometimes, nearing month’s end, she’ll appear at my door, worn out from a buying trip–Amy is a buyer for Martene’s, a high-end fashion house on Sixth Street in downtown Freedom. We drink hot chocolate and roast marshmallows in the fireplace and reminisce. Come morning, Amy hops into her company car or Mach 1, whichever she’s driving at the time, blows me a kiss, mouths ‘I love you’ and leaves as abruptly as she arrived twelve hours before.
That’s my half-sister.
I sit at her desk and nudge the computer from sleep mode. She has twenty-eight unopened emails. Some of them are work-related and several are from her friends. There are two party invitations and one invitation to a baptism and a couple are from me checking in. As I’m about to close the program, the last email catches my eye. I click on it.
My Dearest Amy,
I’m sorry I don’t have the courage to do this face to face but it’ll be better for both of us if I just get it done with.
We’ve had some good times and you’re one helluva lover but unfortunately for you it’s not enough for me anymore.
You are the sweetest girl I’ve ever known and one day you’ll make some man deliriously happy. I wish I were that man but I am not him.
My wife and I have reconciled and it’s better that we break all ties with each other. No telephone calls, no voicemails, no emails, no showing up at work, no personal contact whatsoever. If our paths happen to cross, please look the other way or turn around and go in the opposite direction. My wife is adamant about this.
Please do not take this personally.
Good luck in all your future personal endeavors.
Love
A sick feeling forms in the pit of my stomach. What my sister