Murder by the Written Word 10

Updated on August 31, 2018
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Ms. Williamson is a published author and educator with a Bachelor of Business, Master of Public Administration, and Master of Science!

Part 10

Tiffany wiped away a tear and took a deep breath. Then she slowly began to tell Dale about the day she and her best friend went shopping. Tiffany told in detail how the man had not only raped her friend Carol but violated her with the handle of a mop. And she was forced to watch the entire scene at gunpoint.

As she continued with her story, Dale felt a wave of nausea sweep through his entire body and hate for another human being consumed him. Tiffany had managed to empty the automatic into Sean Montgomery—disfiguring his face. Dale remembered Tiffany had said it was a bystander who just happened to be in the parking garage at that precise movement. She confessed that it was indeed her that had killed Marvin Montgomery’s brother. Sean Montgomery was Marvin Montgomery’s younger brother but held a striking resemblance to his brother both in physic and mannerism. Marvin Montgomery was now behind bars because Dale was able to get enough substantial information against him to detain him for many years.

As Dale’s anger filled his mind he also became aware that Tiffany had stopped talking. He looked at her and she wore the saddest face he had ever seen. Dale arose slowly and sauntered to Tiffany; taking her in his arms. Neither noticed that the two men in tuxedos had discreetly left.

“There is nothing on the face of this earth that could make me stop loving you. Tiffany, do you understand that and do you believe that?” Dale told her cradling her as he would a child.

Looking up into his eyes, Tiffany nodded and rested her head against his chest. They stood silently for a long time just wanting to feel each other’s warmth and love flowing through their bodies.

Finally Tiffany was able to speak.

“Dale, I told you that once I did start to come and tell you everything. I had made my mind up it was only fair to be straight with you and let you make the decision to marry a murderer!” Tiffany confessed sadly.

“Darling, what on earth stopped you? You are NOT a murderer. What you did was justifiable homicide,” Dale corrected.

“I had assumed that you and Marvin Montgomery were friends; at least that’s what it appeared. However, now I know why and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I should have known something was going on. I should have trusted the man I knew you were. But every time I saw Marvin, I saw Sean …” Tiffany paused for a moment to keep from sobbing,

“I just couldn’t believe that I had really ever known you.” Then a deep sob escaped from deep within and her body shook violently. Dale’s arms closed around her tightly.

“Dale, I have never stopped loving you,” Tiffany confessed.

“Nor I you, my dearest.” Dale held Tiffany away from him and looked down into her lovely face and just before their lips met he whispered,

“We will grow old together.”

Dale led Tiffany back to the table. He poured two glasses of wine and they toasted their future together and each sipped the sweet, dark liquid. Yet, nothing had tasted as wonderful as their kiss. The time of confessions and sadness were over. They sat drinking their wine and laughing and holding hands and each felt as though their heart would burst with happiness.

“One question,” Tiffany said giggling, “And I’ll have some more wine.”

“I’ll answer one question, and you will have no more wine. What’s the question?” Dale replied softly.

“When we were driving out here, why did you say that if we don’t go after The Sparrow, Margaret Andrews won’t ever get her cane back? I don’t think she’ll need it,” Tiffany retorted.

“Oh that, well I had to think of something to throw you off track,” Dale proclaimed with a grin. “I wanted this to be a complete surprise to the woman I love.”

“You certainly succeeded. I had no idea.” Tiffany laughed again, suppressing the idea of telling Dale that when they had first arrived she had started to doubt his sanity.

“Now why can’t I have another glass of wine?” Tiffany questioned.

“We’ve got to get back to town. You’ve a story to write, Miss Journalist because we’re going to settle this case tonight. Tomorrow, you will be busy making wedding plans,” Dale said emphatically. Tiffany started to protest, but Dale blew out the candle on the table and escorted Tiffany toward the car.

“We’re not married yet," Tiffany protested happily. “Besides, I don’t ever want this night to end.” She had barely finished her sentence when Dale swooped her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way.

To be continued

© 2016 Jacqueline Williamson BBA MPA MS


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