Chapter 18
Showtime
Amanda knew that Ryan went by his parents’ house each night to take in the mail and the newspaper. She had hoped that one night he’d come home with the news that there had been a break-in, but that hadn’t happened. None of her attempts to make the premises vulnerable to a burglary had worked. Now she was getting panicked, because time was running out. With Ryan’s parents coming home the next day she decided to take matters into her own hands. It would be risky. If she were spotted, she’d be in serious trouble. She rubbed her neck, which was already starting to tighten from just thinking about it.
On the way home from her office she detoured to Rich and Erica’s neighborhood and drove slowly through the alley that wound behind their house. It was dark and she didn’t see anyone around, so she parked a few houses away and walked to their back gate. She had been at Rich and Erica’s house enough times to know the gate was left open so the lawn service could get in and out. Once inside she picked up the brick that Rich used to hold the gate open when he was working in the backyard, and walked to the back door.
Lights suddenly flooded the alley, causing Amanda to duck down, although it would have been impossible to see her in the backyard. The car drove by slowly but didn’t stop. She wondered if the driver would pay attention to her car parked on the side of the alley. If they took down her license plate number she could be tied to the burglary. She kicked herself for not renting a car that couldn’t be traced back to her.
Amanda knew that Rich didn’t have an alarm service. He had told her the story of how years earlier, when they did have a security system, Erica had burned some bacon, which had caused the smoke alarm to go off. In Rich’s haste to disarm the alarm so the fire department wouldn’t come, he accidently set off the panic alarm. Before he knew it there were two fire trucks, an ambulance, and a SWAT team coming down the street toward their house. An hour later, after he’d finally convinced the cops and the firemen that it was just a false alarm, Rich ripped the alarm system out of the wall and vowed never to use it again.
He had said many times it was the best move he’d ever made since worrying about the alarm going off caused him more stress than the fear of a burglar. Smiling at the thought of Rich ripping the alarm system out of the wall, Amanda broke one of the glass panes out of the door, reached in, and unlocked it. She was wearing gloves so she wouldn’t cut herself or leave fingerprints. Quickly, she went upstairs, pulled down the attic staircase, and shook it so some attic insulation would fall to the floor. Then she let it close back up and went downstairs. She thought she should steal something to make it look like a legitimate burglary but hated to do it. After thinking about it long and hard and finally deciding she had no choice, she went into the master bedroom, tore open every drawer, and spilled the contents onto the floor. When she found Erica’s jewelry chest she emptied the contents into a plastic grocery bag and stuffed it into her pocket.
On the way back to her Honda another car drove by slowly. Taking cover behind two trash cans, she hunkered down low and held her breath while the car went by without stopping. She wondered if it was the same car that she’d seen earlier. As she was driving home she wondered what to do with the jewelry. Surely anything of value would be insured, she reasoned. Her best bet would be to get rid of it. If she kept it there would be a chance Ryan might find it and she’d be exposed. So, when she saw a Thom Thumb grocery store, she drove through the alley and threw the bag of jewelry in a Dumpster.
When she got home Ryan was waiting for her and wanted to know where she had been. She blamed her tardiness on a meeting with the CRM at Barnes & Noble to help her set up the book display for the upcoming signing. Ryan accepted the explanation without comment, and Amanda quickly changed the subject.
The next morning Amanda drove to the Dallas Public Library and browsed the fiction aisles. After a few moments Sylvia Sams appeared, and Amanda let her read Erica’s revisions to Rich Coleman’s novel. When she was done she had lots of questions.
“Let me get this straight. Erica is saying Rich actually killed Martha Collins?” Sylvia asked.
Amanda nodded. “Exactly. She found him at the motel next to Aunt Martha’s body.”
“Wow!”
“Then she and Rich’s best friend took Rich to an alley and left him there so it would look like he’d been mugged and thus provide an alibi.”
“And Rich has no memory of this?”
“Right. He truly believes the manuscript is an accurate account of what happened.”
“Okay. Let me just compare the handwriting on these revisions to some samples of Erica’s handwriting that we were able to obtain. Then if they match I’ll go write the story.”
“No problem.”
She let Sylvia do her analysis, and when she was satisfied the document was real she left to go write the story. Amanda lingered at the library another fifteen minutes and then went to her office. There was lots to do before she and Ryan had to pick up Erica and Rich at the airport. She called Sheila at Thorn to check on any new developments.
“Sheila. This is Amanda.”
“Hi, Amanda. How are you?”
“A little nervous.”
“I bet. Well, it won’t be long now. How did your chance meeting with Sylvia go?”
“She’s writing the story as we speak. Needless to say she was delighted with the scoop.”
“Is she good with the timing?”
“Absolutely—she understands Rich and Erica have to be totally surprised by the story. If they find out about it before the taping starts at NBC they’ll probably cancel.”
“Well, we can’t let that happen. It’s not easy to line up these appearances on late-night talk shows.”
“So, if everything goes well how do you think it will impact book sales?” Amanda asked.
“I think it will shoot to the top of New York Times Best Seller list in no time. We’ve alerted our printers to get ready for a new print run.”
“Obviously, Rich won’t do any more book signing after this.”
“He won’t need to. Every time he has an encounter with the media the publicity will be like twenty book signings.”
“I know. This is so exciting!”
“Aren’t you worried about your relationship with Ryan when this comes down?”
“Sure, but I think I’ve got that angle covered.”
Amanda hadn’t told anyone about her burglary and didn’t plan to. There was no reason for anyone to know about it and much safer for her if they didn’t. Her biggest worry was Erica. If Erica didn’t buy the burglary explanation, she’d blame Amanda for the leak, and that would threaten her relationship with Ryan. She was sure in that event Erica would try to prevent their marriage and Amanda might lose Ryan as the result. But she knew it was too late to worry about that now.
Amanda arrived at Barnes & Noble thirty minutes before the seven p.m. signing. The store was pretty quiet, which was a little bit unsettling. She knew that Rich hadn’t been attracting big crowds, but this was Dallas, his hometown, where the Martha Collins murder had been big news in the early eighties. She expected at least a modest crowd for the event, particularly after Steve Sawyer’s nice article in the Dallas Morning News that morning. In the article he’d recounted the illicit love affair between Rich and Erica and how it had driven them to make a suicide pact in the event either was convicted of Martha Collins’s murder. He gave the book a generous review and suggested that anyone who wasn’t sure what true love was all about ought to read it.
Amanda took the escalator upstairs to where the book signing was to take place and was pleased to see a dozen people had already taken seats for the event. When she spotted Jill she went over to her.
“So, everything ready?”
Jill nodded. “Yes, the books came this morning. I was worried they wouldn’t get here in time.”
“How many did they send?”
“Two hundred and fifty.”
“Well, that should be en
ough. Forty-nine is the most he’s sold at any event so far.”
“I think so,” Jill agreed.
“Don’t send the extra stock back. You’ll need it.”
Jill laughed. “Aren’t you the optimist.”
Amanda smiled. “Well, I’d better be since I represent the author.”
Five minutes later when Ryan and Rich arrived, ten or fifteen more spectators had taken their seats. Amanda felt relieved, as now there was a respectable crowd for the event. When seven o’clock rolled around Jill got up and introduced Rich. He thanked her and took the podium.
“I want to thank all of you for coming out. It’s nice to be back in Texas. If you’ve ever traveled to the Northeast, you know Texans aren’t always welcomed there. I don’t know why that is. Some say it was the Kennedy assassination, and others say it’s the general perception that Texas is populated by hordes of illiterate cowboys.”
The crowd stirred.
“Anyway, I didn’t exactly get a friendly welcome in the Big Apple, so I’m glad to be back here in Texas where people are more hospitable.”
The crowd murmured their agreement.
Rich picked up a copy of The Pact. “I wrote this book almost twenty-five years ago with the intention of trying to get it published immediately. But when it was all finished my wife asked me not to publish it because she wanted to keep the intimate details of our courtship and marriage private. Because of the trial and media coverage surrounding it, far too much about it had already been made a matter of public record and she wanted it to stop.
“Since Erica meant more to me than fame or fortune, I acquiesced to her wishes. But enough time has now gone by that those concerns are no longer as important as they once were. So, when Amanda asked if she could present The Pact to potential publishers, after careful thought, Erica and I agreed. What shocked us was how quickly she made it happen and I can honestly say one year ago the manuscript was gathering dust in our attic and I had no plans to ever publish it.
“So, it’s a little surreal to be here today before you talking about The Pact. Anyway, I thought I would read an excerpt from the book and then when I’m done answer any questions you might have.”
The rest of the book signing went well and when it was over, Rich had sold ninety-two books, which Jill said was the best signing she’d had in months. After the signing Ryan and Amanda took Rich and Erica to the airport for their flight to LA. Rich was in a good mood, as it had been his best book signing yet, but Erica was quiet and appeared nervous.
After letting them off they drove to Red Lobster in Grapevine and had dinner. When they finally got home it was nearly ten thirty p.m., so Amanda turned on The Tonight Show. Amanda said she wanted to see if Leno would announce the fact that Rich and Erica would be on the show the following night. She wasn’t disappointed as he twice advised his listeners that Rich Coleman and his wife, Erica, would be guests the following night to discuss Rich’s “new true crime book, The Pact.”
After that they went to bed. Ryan fell asleep immediately, but Amanda couldn’t relax enough to go to sleep. Instead she ran the events of the day through her mind over and over again. She worried about the cars that had driven through the alley while she was burglarizing Rich and Erica’s house, Sylvia’s article, and whether Jay Leno’s writers would hear about it in time to take advantage of it. Finally, she worried about Rich and Erica’s return and how quickly they’d point the finger at her for their debacle.
The next morning Amanda went by Sylvia’s office to pick up a copy of her article the moment it came off the press. She waited about fifteen minutes until someone finally showed up to stock the newspaper stand in front of the building. She bought several copies and then went back to her car to read the story. Adrenaline pumped through her system as she read every shocking word. Sylvia had outdone herself. The story was scandalous! When she was done reading she took a deep breath trying to relax. In just a few hours Rich and Erica’s life would be rocked to the core and she’d become the hottest new agent on the planet.
The afternoon and evening crawled by as Amanda waited and wondered what was happening in LA. She wondered if they’d made it to the studio on time and if the writers for The Tonight Show had gotten a copy of the Inquisitor yet. Sylvia had arranged for their West Coast distributor to have a copy delivered by messenger by noon. Amanda looked at her watch and saw that it was two p.m., so it would be noon in LA. She could just imagine how Jay’s staff would be scrambling to rewrite the script for the interviews.
At five thirty she turned on NBC 5 to see if the story had hit the networks yet and was relieved when nothing was said about it. She assumed that NBC hadn’t let the story out so it would be a big surprise to everybody watching Jay Leno that evening. Amanda was about to turn off the TV when a commercial came on.
“Tonight on Jay Leno: Will Rich Coleman get away with murder? Jay talks to Erica and Rich Coleman about their suicide pact.”
“Oh, shit!” Amanda gasped.
Fortunately for her Ryan hadn’t gotten home yet. She hoped he hadn’t heard about the promotional spot. He’d be very upset and immediately try to get in contact with his parents. She didn’t want that to happen, as she wanted to see the show without any distractions. To ensure this would be the case, she dressed in something very provocative, made his favorite dinner, and the moment he got home shut off his cell phone.
“We’re going to have a nice quiet dinner, have a few drinks, and then celebrate your father’s first network appearance,” Amanda said excitedly.
“Wow!” Ryan replied. “My father needs to be on more talk shows.”
“Yes. That would be great for both of us.”
After Ryan had eaten she made them both a drink, put on some soft music, and cuddled up next to him on the sofa. She’d taken the phone off the hook because she was afraid the media or Ryan’s parents would be calling soon. By now The Tonight Show would have already been taped and Rich and Erica would be reeling from the Inquisitor article. There was no telling what they would do once the show was over, but she was fairly certain they would be calling.
They kissed for a while and then began taking off each other’s clothes but were interrupted by a loud knock at the door. Amanda cursed under her breath.
“Oh shit. I forgot I invited Matt and Candy over to watch The Tonight Show,” Ryan said as he quickly put on his shirt and pants and stumbled to the front door. Amanda shook her head and escaped into the bedroom.
Ryan looked into the peephole, saw that it was Matt and Candy, and opened the door. Matt walked in carrying a large brown bag and Candy followed.
“Hey, you decided to come,” Ryan said.
“Of course.”
“What’s in the bag?” Ryan asked.
“Beer.”
“Oh. Good thinking . . . How are you, Candy?” Ryan asked.
“Fine. Where’s Amanda?”
“I think she went to change. I forgot to tell her I had invited guests over.”
“Oh, no. I hope she’s not upset.”
Amanda came back in the living room dressed in jeans and an SMU T-shirt. “Hey, I’m glad you two came over. Now we can have a real party.”
“Well, this is a big day, so who better to celebrate it with than the person who made it all possible,” Matt said.
There was more knocking on the door. Ryan looked over at it and frowned.
“That’s probably the girls—they wanted to come. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. The more the merrier,” Amanda said.
Ryan opened the door and Jenni, Gina, and Sharon walked in, each carrying a bag of drinks and snacks for the party. Amanda showed them a table where they could set them out and then went into the kitchen to get some plates and napkins. Everyone seemed in a good mood, so she assumed no one had listened to the six o’clock news or picked up a copy of the Inquisitor.
They drank, talked, listened to music, and danced until ten p.m. when Ryan made a move to turn on the TV. Amanda jumped up
and intercepted him.
“Leno doesn’t come on until 10:35,” Amanda said.
“Well, I thought we’d catch the news.”
“No. You’ll spoil the party. Come dance with me.”
Amanda took Ryan’s hand and led him over to the makeshift dance floor where Matt and Candy were in a tight embrace dancing to “Moon River.” Amanda liked classic sixties music, especially for dancing, and managed to keep Ryan occupied until ten thirty.
“Okay. Now you can turn on the TV,” Amanda advised.
Ryan picked up the channel changer and turned on NBC 5. The news was just wrapping up, and then The Tonight Show began. Jay took the stage, greeted his fans, and then gave his monologue. When he was done he announced his first guest.
“Well, tonight we are fortunate to have as our first guest Richard Coleman to talk about his new book, The Pact, just released from Thorn Andrews Publishing. Let’s welcome Rich Coleman.”
“What happened to Mom?” Ryan asked.
“I don’t know,” Amanda replied. “Maybe she backed out of the interview for some reason.”
Rich walked onto the set, shook hands with Jay, and took his seat as the crowd applauded.
“Now your wife is here, too, and we’ll bring her on in a moment, but I wanted to talk to each of you separately because it seems you have slightly different accounts of what transpired back in 1981. So, my first question to you, Rich, is why you waited so long to publish this book?”
Rich shrugged. “Well, it all was pretty much a nightmare for both of us and when it was over we didn’t have any desire to relive it right away.”
“Then why did you write the book in the first place?” Jay asked.
“Well, for me it was therapeutic. I just wanted to put it all down in writing before I forgot the details. When it was finished I was ready to publish it but Erica wasn’t, so I put it in mothballs.”
“Probably a good decision, but why publish it now? There are things that happened that you couldn’t be proud of, like entering into an illicit affair with a minor?”
“Yes. I was twenty-nine at the time and Erica was seventeen. I’m not making excuses, but I had lost my first wife a year and a half earlier and Erica had just lost her father. When fate brought us together we were both desperately in need of companionship and understanding, and we fell in love.”
“But you knew it was wrong, yet you still allowed it to happen?”
“That’s true. I tried to resist her, but whenever we were together my resolve would quickly falter. And it didn’t help that she didn’t care about the law, or my fiduciary duty, or whether I lost my job or not. She knew she loved me and our love was the only thing that was important.”
“Now despite the age difference you two were very happy except that you had to keep the relationship secret,” Jay said.
“Yes. That didn’t bother me that much, but Erica was a social person and wanted to get out and be with other couples, go to church, shopping, you know, do all the normal things that couples did.”
“So, your relationship was finally discovered?”
“Yes. Erica talked me into taking her dancing one night and someone from the office saw us. That person told Peter, my boss, and he confronted us while we were vacationing in Barbados.”
“And how did Aunt Martha find out?” Jay asked.
“Well, Erica hated her aunt Martha, so she hadn’t told her she was going on vacation. Being a busybody, Martha checked up on Erica from time to time and when she couldn’t contact her on this occasion she used that as an excuse to break into our apartment. When she did she found out Erica and I were living together.”
“Don’t you just love meddling relatives?”
“Yeah, well there was bad blood. Aunt Martha had been very hateful to Erica’s mother and Erica blamed her for running her off.”
“Hmm. I bet. . . . Now in your version of the story, your wife was caught by the police fleeing from the crime scene?”
“What do you mean my version?” Rich asked.
“Well. Did you see the Inquisitor story that came out this morning?”
Rich grimaced. “No. What article?”
“Well, there was a story in the Inquisitor—do we have a picture of it?”
A copy of the Inquisitor flashed on the screen. The headlines read: Did Rich Coleman Get Away with Murder?
The crowd gasped in shock. Ryan looked at Amanda.
“What’s going on? Have you seen the Inquisitor article?” Ryan asked.
“No,” Amanda lied. “I can’t believe there was an article.”
Back on the TV Rich said warily, “I haven’t seen that.”
“Well, according to the story Erica has a different version of the events. So, let’s get Erica out here so she can explain what really happened. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Erica Fox Coleman.”
The crowd gave Erica a round of applause as she tentatively walked out on the stage. She appeared a little confused and disoriented. Jay walked over to her and guided her to the first guest seat.
“So, I take it neither of you have seen the Inquisitor article.”
Both Erica and Rich shook their heads.
“Well, it just came out today and according to the article, Erica, you read Rich’s novel right after he wrote it and had a different take on what happened.”
“No,” Erica protested. “I concur with the book as it is written.”
“Well, the writer at the Inquisitor, Sylvia Sams, claims that you made extensive revision to the manuscript that tells a completely different story than what’s printed in Rich’s book.”
Erica just starred at Jay in shock and said nothing.
“In fact, Ms. Sams claims to have compared known samples of your handwriting to these notes and verifies that they are a match. So, do you deny making these revisions to your husband’s manuscript?”
Erica looked at Rich and then back at Jay. She looked like she wanted to bolt. Finally, she sat back in her chair and sighed.
“No. I did make some revisions, but what you have to understand is that my version of what transpired is no less valid than what Rich wrote. You see I didn’t witness Aunt Martha’s murder, so I don’t actually know what happened.”
“But in your revisions you state that you found Rich unconscious next to your aunt’s dead body.”
Many in the crowd gasped in shock.
“True, but he was unconscious. If he had killed Aunt Martha he would have fled the scene. The only thing that makes sense is that another person killed Aunt Martha and knocked Rich out to make it look like he was the killer.”
“But why did you and Rich’s friend Joe move Rich and dump him in an alley miles away so he’d have an alibi?”
“Because I loved him and I couldn’t stand the thought of him going on trial for her murder.”
“So, you decided to take the fall and then plead temporary insanity?”
Erica nodded.
“And it worked out pretty well. The jury found you innocent by reason of temporary insanity.”
“Yes.”
“But had you been convicted, would you have gone through with your death pact?”
“Yes,” Erica said emphatically. “Neither of us wanted to live without the other. We both had cyanide capsules ready to swallow.”
The crowd stirred.
“Well, now that we’ve heard both Rich’s and Erica’s versions of Martha Collins’s death, let’s get the opinion of the detective who handled the Martha Collins murder case in 1981. Please welcome retired detective Vincent Perkins, formerly of the Dallas Police Department!”
Erica’s mouth dropped and her face turned ashen. Rich gave her a concerned look and took her hand as they shifted seats. The crowd erupted in excitement as Detective Perkins made his way to the first guest chair. He was a tall, imposing man with green eyes, grey receding hair, and a thin mustache. He smiled briefly, but his face returned to what appeared to be a permanent scowl.
“So, Detect
ive Perkins, you were the investigative officer in the Martha Collins murder case?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“So, what do you think of these new revelations from Rich Coleman’s book and Erica Fox Coleman’s extensive revisions to the original manuscript?”
“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. I never thought much of Rich Coleman’s alibi. It seemed rather convenient.”
“So, if you didn’t buy his alibi, why didn’t you pursue him as a suspect?”
“Well, once his wife pled innocent by reason of temporary insanity, the DA told us to back off. They were very confident that they could successfully prosecute her and didn’t want us to create reasonable doubt by finding more evidence against Rich Coleman.”
“I see. So, they didn’t care who took the fall as long as one of them did?”
Perkins shrugged. “I don’t know what was going through their heads. I thought whatever it was stunk, but I had no choice but to follow orders.”
“So, what went wrong in the trial? How was it that the jury found her innocent?”
“They had a slick attorney and an even slicker psychiatrist who brought in all this old family feud crap. It was bull****[bleep], if you ask me.” The audience laughed. “They painted Erica as some poor victim of the hatred between her father and the victim, Martha Collins. And they portrayed Martha Collins as a jealous bitch out to create as much misery as she could.”
Jay laughed. “I see. And the jury bought it?”
“Hook, line, and sinker,” Detective Perkins acknowledged.
“So, you heard Erica say that neither she nor Rich know who killed Aunt Martha.”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe them?”
“Not on your life,” Perkins spat. “They probably both planned the whole thing.”
Erica gasped and put her hand to her mouth. Rich stiffened and glared at Perkins. The crowd went wild while Jay smiled gleefully.
“So, why do you think they decided to come clean now?”
“Arrogance. They figured they committed the perfect crime and wanted the world to know how smart they were.”
“Do you really think so? Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” Jay asked.
“Well, they probably think since Erica was found innocent by reason of insanity that they are both safe, but I’ve got news for them. There’s no statute of limitations on murder, and I’m going to make sure the Dallas Police Department reopens the Martha Collins file. With Erica’s version of the events on the day of the murder, convicting Rich should be a slam dunk!”
Rich turned beet red and Erica looked like she was going to faint. The crowd seemed confused, some yelling for Rich’s conviction and others sympathetic to Rich and Erica. It was pandemonium for several minutes until the director cut the scene and went to a commercial. When they returned to the set Rich and Erica were gone.
“What the fuck was that?” Ryan asked. “How did this happen?”
Amanda, as pale as milk, didn’t respond.
“Oh, my God!” Matt said. “I bet Mom and Dad are devastated. Do you think they could really reopen the investigation?”
Ryan frowned. “A case that is over twenty-five years old? I seriously doubt it.”
“What about Mom’s revisions? Where are they?”
“I hadn’t known that there were any,” Ryan said, “but I think we’d better get over there and find those revisions before the police get their hands on them.”
Matt sighed deeply. “You’re right. Come on, they could already be trying to get a search warrant.”
Ryan and Matt took off without further debate. Matt drove fast, ignoring posted speed limits and stopping at red lights only to avoid an accident. When they rounded the corner and started down their parents’ street, their hearts sank. Rich and Erica’s home was surrounded by police cars.
“Fuck!” Ryan screamed.
“Oh, my God,” Matt moaned.
They pulled to the curb and parked, not knowing what to do. They just sat there in horror as their childhood home was ravished by the police. Finally, they turned around and drove home, depressed and defeated.