Chapter 28
Jennifer's critique group was a kind of sisterhood wrought from common ambition and eternal rejection. They embraced her warmly into the fold. After all, what was a little suspicion of murder among friends?
"Think of all the firsthand experience you're getting," April declared. "It's got to be great research to actually be behind those bars, know what it feels like to be caged, to be unjustly accused and left to rot for someone else's crime."
Leave it to April to put the best light on a situation and then turn it into "The Pit and the Pendulum." She pulled a bunch of grapes from the lunch bag perched precariously on her ever expanding abdomen. "Anyone want some?" she offered.
Leigh Ann withdrew her size-five feet from under her and leaned forward from her seat on Monique's couch. "Tell me about all those rugged, good-looking policemen, Jennifer. Don't you just love it when they pull their hats down to their eyebrows and put on those mirrored, wire-rimmed, glasses?" A little shudder visibly ran through her body. "All business, yet so mysterious. You stare into their faces, all the while never knowing what they're thinking, what they're feeling, what—"
"You're sick. You know that?" Teri declared from the spot where she was curled on the floor at Leigh Ann's feet. Thankfully she had traded her "work clothes" for sweatpants and an oversized shirt.
Monique let out her standard gasp of exasperation. "Just how can we help, Jennifer?" she asked. "Actually, I'm surprised someone didn't kill Penney Richmond years ago."
Four pairs of eyes made a collective turn toward Monique, who suddenly looked incredibly uncomfortable, so unlike the self-assured, rock-of-knowledge they were so accustomed to.
"You knew her, didn't you?" Jennifer asked.
"I've met her."
Jennifer studied the woman's face. "No. No, this is more than that. A lot of agents' names have come up during our meetings, but I don't recall you ever saying anything about Richmond."
"That's right, even when Jennifer came in here complaining what a witch the woman had been to her over the phone that time," Leigh Ann agreed, nodding enthusiastically.
"Yeah," Teri chimed in. "You usually have all kinds of comments whenever—"
"All right. You might as well know," Monique said. "It's not like it's a secret. Penney Richmond was the agent that sold my book."
Light dawned in April's eyes, and she paused in mid-chew, tapping her bottom lip with a grape. "Oh, my… She screwed you over, didn't she?"
"Let's just say she helped me understand the concept of justifiable homicide." Monique lay back in her chair and slowly started rocking.
Well, well. Jennifer wasn't the only one with impure thoughts. She suddenly felt an unexpected rapport with Monique.
"You've told us this much. You might as well give us the whole story," Jennifer coaxed.
"After my novel was bought, I put together two detailed synopses, twenty or so pages each. Penney kept them for three months before tossing them back at me. She said another client had written a book so similar to one of my ideas that there was no way she or anybody else could sell it."
Until that moment, Jennifer had only suspected the true depths of Penney Richmond's despicable nature.
"You think she stole it," Jennifer concluded.
The rocking stopped, and an infusion of blood reddened Monique's face. "Of course she stole it. When the book came out, the alternate universe I had created was right there in print, only with a well-known author's name across the book cover. We had words. Richmond told me she was dropping me as a client. She needed someone with more original thoughts."
"Why didn't you sue?" April asked.
"Are you kidding? Do you know how hard it is to prove someone stole an idea? I might have had a chance if I'd completed the manuscript and if someone had actually read it. All I had was a synopsis, a synopsis that only two people had seen: myself and Penney Richmond. For all I know, the author who wrote the book never even saw my work. Penney could have fed it to him in a brainstorming session."
"Bummer," Teri observed.
A true career S.O.B. At least Jennifer had been right about Penney Richmond. Monique's once promising career had simply dried up and blown away. When her book came out, it did only modest sales and then faded into oblivion. Monique had suffered off and on from writer's block ever since, and only now did Jennifer understand why.
"But this mess isn't about me," Monique reminded the group. "It's about Jennifer. What are we going to do to help?"
"I've got a day's leave I need to take," Leigh Ann volunteered. "Teri and I could go to Atlanta and check out Richmond's agency."
"We'll find out who her associates are, and who's on her staff," Teri agreed.
"If possible, see if you can find out when or if Kyle Browning ever sent Penney Richmond a complete manuscript," Jennifer said. "She would probably have gotten it sometime during a six-month period ending about four months ago."
"We'll do our best," Leigh Ann promised.
"I'll get on the phone with some of Richmond's clients and see if I can get the word on what she's been up to," Monique offered. "And I'll put out the word on the Internet. See if I can scare up any of her more recent stunts."
"Anything you come up with will be hard to prove if she was as clever as she seems," Jennifer pointed out.
"True," Teri replied. "But we're not out to prove anything, only muddy the waters a little, come up with some names to throw at the police."
"And I can help Dee Dee cook, so you'll have more time to investigate," April suggested, sucking on yet another grape. April was a fabulous cook. She'd be a great help to Dee Dee—if she didn't sample too many of the wares.
Jennifer could feel her throat start to constrict and her eyes well with tears. God love 'em. These were her spiritual sisters. An attack against one was an attack against them all. They were closing ranks, and whether they produced something that would help exonerate her or nothing at all, they were solidly behind her and exactly what she needed.