THE SEXY CROONS OF SHEILA SHIELDS MELTED THROUGH THE TELEVISION AND RADIO SPEAKERS OF EVERY NIGHT SHIFT WORKER AND INSOMNIAC IN TOWN. She sung out each letter of the call sign with a drop of her voice on the last letter mentioned.
“On 83 FM, this is double O, double U, double Z, coming to you live from Cape Cod by the sea. It is now time for the Hot Spot.” Quite the seductress, she continued in a whispering, raspy tone. “In the news…in the news, I know you night owls don’t stay in the news. So let me bring you up to date on the local Caleb’s. College cheerleader, Marli Daniels tumbled off the pyramid during practice and sprained her ankle. As it turns out, she injured her best friend’s shoulder on the way down. However, recent findings show that Marli tumbled down the pyramid on purpose, getting back at her ex besty for sleeping with her boyfriend. Next on the Hot Spot, local Caleb, Teree Cross, high school quarter back, worked a low impact bomb into the football to gain advantage over the opposing team. Boy, do we have some naughties out there! On tomorrow’s list we have Becky Burke and the notorious Michael Tipps…until next time listeners, let’s enjoy this.”
Sheila flipped a switch to a smooth Jazz rendition when something hard poked her back and stuck there, at the site.
“You’re not tellin’ that last story.” Sheila froze and listened. “Cops didn’t find the killer and people are beginning to forget.”
Sheila turned to face him with a smirk on her face and a shotgun on his belly. “Drop your little weapon before these buck shots disseminate you all over this room.”
He put the safety on and the gun hit the carpeted floor with a thud.
Sheila continued. “So you wanna keep me quiet…is that it, Mikey?”
Although startled by the shotgun, he could not believe the blue eyes that gleamed at him. A shocking realization seized him and he could not break the stare.
“Can you complete something before I go on the air tomorrow night?”
Michael gave an unsure nod.
“Go to McAdams Park, dig amongst the bushes near the lake and call me when you’ve retrieved the object.
Michael gave her three quick nods, seemingly out of breath and backed out of the room with his eyes glued to her.
The next evening, Sheila answered her cell phone just before air time.
“All right, I have the knife…now what?”
“What do you think, silly? Go dig up your bloody shirt from The Meadows…you know the place…next to the honorary, stationary park bench…”
“How do you…”
“Just bring them here!” She interrupted. “…Before the Hot Spot hour.”
Michael kept his radio tuned to Sheila’s station – keeping track of how much time he had left. He started the dig on one side of the park bench, cutting through grass and the compact soil. He worked for twenty, maybe thirty minutes only to discover a black hole. Then he remembered the other side and raised his eyes to a statue planted there. He started from the beginning, at the back of the bench. Frightening words sang out to him from his parked car. The door hung open on its hinges.
“Next on the Hot Spot, local Caleb, Becky Burke – after this short commercial break…”
Michael sighed and plunged the shovel into the earth and tossed soil to the side. He worked hard and quick until the blade fell onto something that it could not tear through. Michael reached down and grabbed the fabric. There, in his soiled palm was the last of the evidence. He tossed it into the bag with the other and sped away.
The commercial break ended. “…Our Hot Spot list people,”
“All right, I got ‘em!” Michael burst through the door, yelling. “I killed my girlfriend, Lacey Freeman and here’s the evidence, okay?”
Sheila faced him, perplexed.
Michael’s eyes bulged at the sight of her beautiful browns.
“What are…you’re not supposed to be in here!” She flipped a switch to prohibit the listening public.
Security entered. “You can’t be in here, buddy.”
Michael was glued to the beautiful, ebony, Sheila Shields once again. “…Your eyes!”
Sheila only frowned.
“Your eyes were Lacey’s! And w…” He panted for air and spoke the next few words about Lacey in a whisper. “…her eyes…so enchant…” His voice trailed off as he looked down, at the floor. Seconds passed and he raised his eyes with sudden energy. “You told me to bring this stuff on the promise that you wouldn’t tell them I killed her!”
“What?” Sheila exclaimed. “I don’t know you, sir, and I don’t know anything about what you’re talking about!”
One security officer looked at the other. “Did he just confess to a murder?”
“Sure did…I’m gettin’ the cops down here.”
“But…” Michael tried to continue as the guard took him by the arm and Sheila played another commercial.
Michael’s stunned gaze followed after the guard who stepped out, and he saw a snow white face and dark blue eyes through the small window of the door. The window appeared to be clouded with a kind of mist. Her blonde hair in a bowl-cut appeared to blow lightly in a breeze. She planted a kiss on the glass and then she, the kiss and the mist faded into the darkness of the hallway just beyond the closed door where Michael was held captive.
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