#i have missed ONE local election in my life and you better believe I'm there in person
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hellenhighwater · 23 days ago
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My goal for this week is to get the shredded werewolf "I voted" sticker. I want it badly.
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qyllenhaal · 4 years ago
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God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2
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Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader
Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.
Word Count: 10.3k
Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only
A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.
Enjoy!
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"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.
"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.
"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."
The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.
She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.
Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.
The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else
She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.
Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.
One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.
"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.
Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.
"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.
Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.
His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.
Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.
"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."
Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?
They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.
"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.
"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."
Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.
Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.
It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.
Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.
She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.
"Who was it?"
"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."
"Lee!"
"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."
Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.
He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."
It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.
Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.
"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."
His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.
"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.
-
The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.
She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.
Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.
"Y/n , can I speak with you?"
It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.
"Is everything alright Sally?"
"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.
"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"
"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."
Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?
'That's not right, that's not right.'
No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.
It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.
"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"
They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.
She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"
The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?
Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.
It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.
He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.
Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)
She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.
And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.
"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.
"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.
Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.
The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.
"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."
Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.
"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."
She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.
Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.
"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"
"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.
"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.
Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.
"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."
Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.
"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.
Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.
"You ever been in a car this nice before?"
"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.
Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.
He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.
"Lee what are you doing-"
"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."
The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.
Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.
"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."
His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.
Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.
"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."
He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.
"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.
Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.
Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.
"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.
-
Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.
The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.
"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.
Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.
Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.
"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"
She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."
His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.
Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.
"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."
"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."
"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"
"But what if you don't win?"
Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.
"What are you trying to say?"
"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"
"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”
Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.
"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.
Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.
Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.
-
Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.
"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."
There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).
Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.
She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.
Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.
"What you doin' down there?"
Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.
"Did I scare you?"
The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.
"Where's my niece?"
Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.
Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.
"Y/n go make us some ice tea."
Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.
"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.
"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"
Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"
He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.
"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.
"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"
"It's going."
"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"
"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.
"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."
Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.
There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.
Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"
He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.
-
If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.
This morning felt so different.
The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.
The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.
"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."
Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.
She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.
When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.
Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.
That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.
Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!
"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.
"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.
The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.
"You're not the one they always send."
"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.
"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.
Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.
"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.
Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.
The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.
Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?
"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."
The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.
She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.
"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."
Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.
"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."
Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.
"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.
"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."
No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.
"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."
"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."
An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.
"I'm thirsty...go make me something."
Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.
"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"
"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"
Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.
-
Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.
People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.
Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.
"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."
Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.
"My wife was here?"
"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"
"Yea yea just ring it up."
Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.
The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.
Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.
Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.
"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.
Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.
"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."
Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.
"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"
"I needed something from the store."
"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"
"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."
What a sweet little liar.
But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.
“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.
“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”
Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.
“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”
He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.
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liss-99 · 4 years ago
Note
I'm sorry I had to : 93 × no body no crime
I'm so excited what you do for this :))
I cannot even tell you the reaction I had when I saw this prompt. This might be my favorite one yet. I hid it below the line because I love it that much!
TW: murder and violence, obviously
It was a secret she would take with her to the grave. 
Kate Sharma and Sophie Beckett became best friends during their first year of college. They were both averse to popularity and the social scene, electing instead to carve their own paths in life. Kate wished to become a social worker while Sophie had dreams of being an elementary school teacher. Their first meeting was in a freshman child psychology course, and the rest, as people often said, was history. 
They were there for each other through all of the life moments; their undergraduate and graduate programs, getting that first job, boyfriends, drunken nights, vacations, weekend hikes, vintage clothing shopping on rainy days, living together, everything. 
Sophie met a man eventually, Phillip Cavender. They married after only six months together, Sophie had been completely captured by him. He was from old money and he knew it, and while Kate didn’t particularly like him, she loved her friend, so she did her best to be supportive. Cavender never seemed to realize how great of a person Sophie was, and the veneer of their marriage quickly cracked. 
Both having busy lives and full-time jobs, the women didn’t get to see each other as often as they both would have liked. But, they did have a ritual, ensuring they got to catch up with each other. 
Every Tuesday, they would meet up at the local Olive Garden, their favorite chain restaurant since college, for dinner and a glass of wine, Chardonnay for Kate and Pinot Noir for Sophie. They usually chatted about work, romance, the latest news, whatever was on their minds. But this night, when Sophie arrived she looked more stressed out than Kate had ever seen her. Their wine had already arrived, the staff had come to learn the routine, so Sophie took a huge sip of hers and sighed as she sat down. 
“What’s the matter?” Kate asked, concerned about her best friend. Sophie looked as if she hadn’t been sleeping. 
“It’s Phil,” Sophie sighed. “He’s been acting different, and I don’t have any proof, but it smells like infidelity to me.”
“You think he’s cheating on you?” 
“All I know is he tastes like merlot whenever we kiss,” Sophie replied, “and we don’t drink merlot.”
Kate crossed her arms, waiting for more. 
“I was going through our joint account yesterday, you know, just for maintenance, to make sure everything was in order.”
“And?”
“There was a $1200 charge for Tiffany’s from three weeks ago. He hasn’t given me any jewelry since he proposed.”
“That bastard,” Kate exclaimed. “He’s absolutely cheating.”
“No there ain’t no doubt about it. I want to call him out.”
Sophie’s jaw clenched, which didn’t go unnoticed by Kate. 
“I think he did it but I just can’t prove it. A few undiscussed charges and the taste of wine aren’t enough to accuse my husband of cheating. 
“Ah, corpus delicti,” Kate sighed, sitting back in her chair. “No body, no crime.”
“Exactly. Without any proof, I don’t have grounds for divorce or he’ll ruin me. I think he did it, but I need proof. Even if it takes me until the day I die, I won’t let up.”
Kate raised her glass to cheers with Sophie, silently celebrating that her best friend would hopefully soon be rid of her scummy husband. 
~
Sophie wasn’t there Tuesday night at Olive Garden, at her job, or anywhere. It had been a few weeks since her revelation to Kate that she wanted to leave her husband. 
They’d canceled the previous week, with Sophie texting 
“Sorry, talking to Phil tn. Can’t make it to dinner. See you next week?”
And that was the last time Kate had heard from Sophie. It was unlike Sophie to be non-communicative, especially with her. When Cavender reported Sophie as missing the next day, Kate immediately grew suspicious. The police launched a full investigation, but Sophie was nowhere to be found. They deemed her a missing person. 
Kate drove by Sophie’s house one night, and in the driveway, she noticed something peculiar. Cavender’s truck had some brand new tires. Sophie had always been complaining that he wouldn’t get new ones even though the truck desperately needed them. Cavender always complained it was a rip-off, which was rich coming from someone as wealthy as he was. But now, all Kate could see were the shiny new tires. Also of interest was the way in which one Cressida Cowper had begun taking residence in Cavender’s house. It made a lot of sense when Kate thought about it, of course Cressida was his mistress. Kate had no doubts that Cressida probably slept in Sophie’s bed and everything as if Sophie had never even existed. 
Like a lightning bolt, it all clicked for Kate. The Cavender family was proud of their name, and nothing would ruin them more than a divorce less than a year after marriage. Sophie had told Kate the morning of her last text that she finally felt like she had enough evidence to confront Cavender about the cheating. Putting 2 and 2 together, Kate determined Cavender had done something to Sophie. 
He was a cruel man, and Kate was almost positive he abused Sophie throughout their marriage. But Sophie had been careful to hide any signs of mistreatment, so Kate had never been sure. But, without a doubt, Kate was positive Cavender had murdered Sophie, most likely because she accused him of an affair. 
The police, lousy pigs that they were, had quickly given up searching for Sophie, and without a body, there was no crime. Kate wouldn’t be able to prove that Cavender had murdered his wife, but she could enact revenge. 
It really was quite an easy decision. The world would be a better place without Phillip Cavender, and if justice wasn’t going to be given for Sophie’s death, Kate would take it herself. 
On the night she decided it would happen, Kate pulled her old handgun, dusty, covered in cobwebs, and placed it in her bag. She drove out of town, to Cavender’s mansion nestled on the edge of the woods, near a big lake. Kate knew Cressida was gone; the woman was a pharmaceutical sales rep and she was often on ‘business trips.’ 
Kate knocked on the door, and the look of surprise on Cavender’s face when he answered was almost retribution enough. 
“Kate, how can I help you?” He was cold to her, suspicious. 
“I just wanted to check in, see how you are doing with Sophie’s disappearance.” 
“Oh, of course, come in,” he turned, and Kate knew he wanted nothing less than for her to come in. 
With his back turned, she pulled the gun out of her bag and aimed it directly at his head. When he turned back around to feign conversation with her, his breath immediately hitched. 
“Kate, what the hell are you doing?”
“I know Sophie is dead, and that you’re the one who killed her.” 
“You have no proof,” he laughed smugly. 
“I don’t care. It’s the only explanation.”
“Okay? So you’re going to shoot me? That’s going to go over really well for you, if anything, it’ll just make it look like you’re the one who killed Sophie, even though, yeah, of course I was the one who did it. You really think I was about to let her accuse me of cheating and ruin my family? Think carefully about what you do next, Kate.”
Kate was stone-cold, unflinching, and she could see the terror behind his smirk. 
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’ll manage,” she said smoothly before she fired the gun. 
The look on Cavender’s face as he slumped over was one of complete disbelief as if it was the first time he would face consequences for his actions. 
When she was 15, Kate’s dad had made her and her younger sister Edwina get boating licenses. He believed it was important to know how to operate all kinds of moving vehicles, ‘just in case.’ 
Kate was grateful for her father’s thinking as she dragged Cavender, wrapped up in a plastic bag, out back to his dock. She heaved his body into the boat, before boating out to the middle of the slimly inhabited lake. It was pitch black outside, and she’d cut the lights on the boat; no one would ever know she was there. With carefully gloved hands, a trick she knew from her crime podcasts and tv shows, she pushed Cavender over the side of the boat, and listened to the glorious sound of him sinking. 
Later, she meticulously cleaned the house, removing any signs of a murder. She cleaned enough houses throughout her life to know how to cover up a scene. 
The next morning, she sent Posy, Sophie’s stepsister, a text. 
“If anyone asks, swear you were with me last night?”
“I swear it.”
Kate wasn’t the only one who disliked Cavender; Kate knew Posy would say whatever to protect her. 
Several days later, when it became public knowledge that Phillip Cavender was missing, news quickly spread of the big life insurance policy Cressida Cowper had taken out just a week prior. Kate hadn’t known this prior to the act, but it made things all the better for her. 
Everyone assumed Cressida had axed Cavender, in hopes of a large sum of money, but with no body, there was no crime, and they just couldn’t prove it. 
Kate was pretty sure Cressida knew what she had done, the way they locked eyes on each other in the town center. Cressida had flames in her eyes when she looked at Kate, but she would never be able to prove it. 
So, the disappearances of Sophie Beckett and Phillip Cavender were never solved; Kate Sharma was the only one to ever know the truth. 
It was a secret she would take with her to the grave.
Taylor Swift Bridgerton One-Shots
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roswelldetails · 5 years ago
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RNM 2x10 - American Woman
EPISODE SUMMARY:
SECRETS OF THE PAST — After uncovering a cryptic message from the past, Alex (Tyler Blackburn), Isobel (Lily Cowles), Max (Nathan Dean), Michael (Michael Vlamis) and Maria (Heather Hemmens) set out in search of answers at the reservation where Alex’s mother grew up. Meanwhile, Cameron (guest star Riley Voelkel) encourages Liz (Jeanine Mason) to reach out to someone from her past after Auturo (guest star Carlos Compean) gets detained. Marcus Stokes directed the episode written by Rick Montano & Vincent Ingaro & Jason Gavin (#210). Original airdate 5/18/2020. 
DETAILS:
Tripp brings Louise to the Reservation in a body bag where the Navajo doctors are able to save her life.
"Your message said that you were gonna bring two women that would be no trouble.  This looks like a lot of trouble."
"I must have gotten the codes wrong."
"No, don't give me that Manes man nonsense. Not here in my own home."
"Her name is Louise. I promised her friend Nora I'd protect them. My brother triggered an ambush before I could get them here. And Nora…"
"Wait, what does the Air Force want them for?"
"They're not from around here. They're from...up north."
"Yìiyáh. No. She can't stay here… What if your brother comes here and finds a fugitive.  I can't put my people at risk for a white woman."
"Please. You're the only person I trust. If she doesn't make it, it was all for nothing."
"I'll have you remember that I was the one that saved your ass in Okinawa. I don't owe you anything. I'm only doing this because you're my family. And because I'm a damn fool."
A few notes on this scene:
--I don't know why Tripp pretends he got the codes wrong.  Unless he's spiraling and talking about the timing of the attack.  But it seems like he means the message that he was bringing them to the reservation.  Clearly things didn't go according to plan.  Though, it is always possible that we're still missing bits of the story.
--OG Easter Egg.  "They're not from around here.  They're from up north." For anyone who didn't watch OG, this is almost exactly how the exchange went when Max told Liz he was an alien in the 1999 pilot.
--Yìiyáh - I found nothing on this word.  I'm assuming that it's a curse word or general exclamation of negativity, but literally got zero results on google. It's possible, of course, that it's misspelled in the captions.  There were a lot of errors in the captions in this opening scene.
--While there really isn't any overt statement that Alex is half Navajo and this town is part of Navajo Nation (which has been in the news a lot lately and therefore is a good place in this country to be aware of), there's lots of clues or subtle enough statements that I feel like it can be accepted as fact, since: Harrison is a codetalker, the necklace is Navajo, tsela is a Navajo word. So I did a little peeking and it could work.  The closest Navajo town is about a 4 hour drive from Roswell.
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Navajo Nation: 
(side note - Navajo Nation has extreme poverty but also is utterly gorgeous. And the Tribe gets income from tourism. Just a few places there that I'm dying to go? Monument Valley, Antelope Canyon, Shiprock.  Check it out.)
Liz comments on Max's irregular heartbeat, with literally no acknowledgment of the fact that she's straddling him and has a history of causing his heart to race...and other forms of lack of control (think 1x03).
"I'm excited about this though. You know Alex dug up all that info on our bio Mom. You sure you can't come?"
"Got to take my dad in for his blood tests. I want to check on Jenna too.  Cannot believe she's back in the hospital again."
"She's been in pain for weeks. I have no leads on the mysterious hunting van, and Charlie hasn't made contact."
"Hmm. To be fair, I do hear that phone service is a little spotty in flying saucers."
"Okay, I get that. You think my alien abduction theory is bogus."
"I know you're worried that this has something to do with you, but I don't think this is an alien thing."
"Cam and I had fractal burns on our necks. We had no memory of what happened. That's alien stuff. I just want clarity on something."
--Note that it's past time to abandon all hope of anything resembling a defined timeline for this show...once again we have weeks passing between episodes. This is the second time this season that the time passing has only been generically described as "weeks".  It's been at least a year since Liz came back to Roswell (per her conversation with Diego), but a year would be summer (late May or early June, specifically), and in this episode Isobel mentions that it's winter (which would be a year and a half).
Maria's pitch:
"In conclusion, esteemed members of the Roswell Tourism Board, while the Pony is normally a sanctuary for locals during CrashCon, I think that my plan to turn it into the Contact Cantina Pop-Up Bar will be a hit with alien fans."
"We're talking more money than we first speculated, aren't we now?"
"You know, Mayor Bernhardt, I forgot to tell you about our new morning cocktail… It's coffee, vanilla cream, and our best bourbon. Let me get you a double."
Note: so this is the famous Mayor Bernhardt. Funded by the Long family. Doesn't like immigrants. Had a racist relative who wouldn't give first prize to the black man.
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Maria's vision…
Herself, younger, sitting at the Pony bar. 
"You have to let me go! You're just crazy! And I'm trapped!"
And then she runs from the bar crying.
She's not wearing the necklace.
Describing it to Michael:
"I had a vision, but it was more like a memory. Of a fight I had with my mom when I was younger."
Isobel interrupts Michael and Maria to pick them up for the road trip. Just a few relevant excepts from this scene:
"Pack your bags. We're going on a family road trip."
"Is this why Max wanted the day off?"
"In the photo of Max and Isobel's bio Mom, there was a water tower. Alex recognized that water tower from the town where his mom grew up. You should come with us."
Alex and Forrest talk in the Crashdown:
"Hope that limp isn't from a paintball injury."
"Nope. Those bruises have mostly healed. I just got a new prosthetic. Takes a minute to get used to. You working on your book?"
"I write my book on my computer.  However, I write my angsty emo poetry in an angsty emo journal."
"I'm actually working on some poetry myself. Well, song lyrics, technically. It's a lot harder than it was in high school."
"Yeah, writing was easier for me when I was a kid too. Feelings...we bury 'em now. You just got to find that thing inside of you that doesn't have a voice. Lend it yours. You know? Listen, I have like, zero musical talent, but if you need help with the worst part, we could, uh…"
"Actually I'm leaving tomorrow for a few days to go talk to some recruits."
Michael interruptus, and the conversation goes casual.
--What happened to "angsty nerd isn't really my type." Or...was it FORESHADOWING!!!?! 😂
--Oh hi there clear shot of Forrest's clearly Deep Sky logoed ring…
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Cam has been having debilitating migraines that have been keeping her bedridden since the abduction.
Nurse Kate is a badass. she tries to keep ICE from getting into a patient's room. Liz hears her and hurries to the waiting room, where there's more ICE activity. Liz panics and tries to get Arturo out of the hospital, but she caught the attention of the ICE officers. However, Liz knows her rights.
"He has applied for his green card. I'm his sponsor, okay? This is his G-1145 right here."
"You can show that to the court."
"It's okay. Call the lawyer."
"No. He is a diabetic. It is illegal to detain a patient."
"Exigent circumstances. Move."
"No. Hey, this is an unconstitutional arrest and the ACLU will be all over you."
"Elizabeth, we respect the law in this family. If you're in trouble, who will take care of the mouse?"
--G-1145 is a request for confirmation that your green card application has been accepted:
--The timing of this all. Liz has been prepared for this moment all her life and would fight it to the point of getting arrested herself, if not for Rosa. Rosa's safety is the only thing that convinces Liz to step aside.
--As an only semi related note, this is a really interesting contrast to how they wrote Jeanine's character out on Grey's Anatomy.  
--Also feel like it would be remiss of me to not point out Liz's reactiveness and fightinf mentality is mirroring how Liz initially reacted to Max pulling her over in the pilot.
"Okay. So the Deputy on call says there's one detention center in the county. Here's the info."
"He doesn't have anything left in Mexico. No one. Nowhere to go."
"You can't think like that right now."
"I think like this always. Rosa and I used to recite our escape plan for if our parents got deported and we got separated in foster care. I begged my parents not to tell Santa where we lived because I was afraid he'd ask for papers. My whole life was built on a fear of this day coming, and it's here. If I'd have kept better track of his health, he wouldn't need these tests. I should have made him move to California. I thought we were safe being outside the hundred-mile zone, but after this election I should have known better. And I should have made him wear a sweater this morning because it's freezing out there. And what if he…?"
"...okay think. Is there someone we can call?"
"Kyle's at a conference, but I can have him call his mom."
"Do you know anyone with some real power? You know, Federal muscle?"
Cam gets dressed to take Liz to the Detention Center and Liz calls Diego for help.
The road trip group arrive at the reservation and meet Gregory Manes.  He says he remembers them all from high school.  He takes Max, Michael, and Isobel to learn about Louise while Alex and Maria go jewelry shopping.
Meanwhile Gregory is taking the Pod Squad to Louise's grave, but pauses for some flirting:
"You're still the Isobel Evans who convinced the basketball captain to pull four different fire alarms to get out of AP Gov, right? Yeah, legend. Here she is."
"Oh my God, it's covered in flowers.  It's winter."
"Rumor is they grow year-round unattended. She was a healer. I'm told she helped with trauma, addiction, that sort of thing. All without speaking."
"This another grave?"
"She was pregnant."
"Louise arrived gravely injured. And the baby didn't survive.
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--Louise died the same day the Pod Squad came out of the pods, confirming that she is probably the old woman on the reservation that was described in 1x09.
--Michael found the mysterious purple flowers growing on Louise's grave.
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Alex and Maria at the trading post.
"Are you okay? Seem a little off."
"I had a vision during a meeting this morning. It almost cost me a deal that could save the bar. Maybe I should just wear the necklace. Go back to being a social media guru. Slash barkeep. Slash magical trope in our redneck mayor's fantasy."
"So why did you really come today? Your ideal day off isn't fighting for the radio silence with Isobel Evans, so…"
"This is the back of my necklace. The word stamped in the silver says Tsela. The necklace is Navajo, so I thought maybe that was the jeweler, but no one I've asked here seems to know who made it. I just want answers."
"Well, there's a ton of silver jewelry for sale here. So why don't we just keep looking for something with the same stamp?"
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Pod Squad sharing a bottle of acetone by Louise's grave.
"Noah said our planet was war-torn. But the hell they found here can't have been worth it."
"Do you think that Louise's baby died from her injuries or do you think maybe it was never going to survive?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I was pregnant. When you died. Obviously I'm not anymore. I just can't help wondering if that was my last chance. Assuming that humans and aliens can't procreate because they're different species. Maybe that little baby wasn't viable."
"You almost died during the abortion, didn't you? I could feel it. Noah almost killed you again, huh? Oh, I need a minute."
After Max leaves Michael offers to be a sperm donor for Isobel if she ever wants to have a kid.
Liz at the Detainment Center
"It's Ortecho. Arturo Ortecho. He's my dad. And he needs gliclazide and beta-blockers. I brought both."
"We can't take contraband here, but there is an infirmary on-site, if he's here."
"You know, out of curiosity, did Nebane Abienwi visit an infirmary before he died of a brain bleed in your custody? What about Johana Medina León? She was 25 years old, okay? People walk through those doors and they die...Who's your supervisor? You need prior approval before conducting enforcement in a hospital. There was a compliance memo."
"Right, a memo, which is just like a law only not. Unless you calm down, I'm gonna arrest you for obstruction."
"Okay, Liz, maybe sit down.  Sir, I'm Deputy Jenna Cameron, and we appreciate your interpretation of your guidelines, but we have an urgent health concern about an inmate here, if you just wouldn't mind checking the system."
Jenna goes with the agent…when she returns...
"Do you have a court case next week for a vandalism charge?"
"What? Yes, but I didn't do it. I'm just gonna plead guilty and pay the fine. It's nothing."
"They denied your dad's green card application because of a misdemeanor on your record. You can't be his sponsor."
Jenna's headaches overtake her. Meanwhile, the ICE agent comes back with news:
"Here just came up. Ortecho is being transferred to El Paso for his deportation hearing. You can see him there around Tuesday."
--Liz's misdemeanor is taking the fall for Rosa's vandalism from when she was arrested by Sheriff Valenti in 2x02.
Gregory takes the Pod Squad to see Harrison who is on his death bed.  Manes boys are always welcome here, the woman tells them. Harrison is the only one Louise ever spoke to on the reservation.
"He met my great uncle Tripp Manes fighting in WWII.  Harry was a code talker."
Michael gets Gregory to leave with him so that Max and Isobel can go inside of Harrison's head. Their conversation:
"You look like her."
"Harrison.  You look different."
"That was a lesson I learned from Louise. How to take your mind to a better time when you're in pain. Come on. I haven't seen the sky in a while. I'll tell you about her...I taught Tripp the codes in the Pacific. That's how we set up the rescue. He was supposed to snuggle Louise and Nora here, but the plan fell apart."
In the past between Harrison and Tripp:
"You've changed. The man I met on that ship obeyed orders."
"Guess I saw what happens when good men fall in line with bad orders. I'm a Christian, Harry. When evil itself tells me to kill a woman with child, I disobey. Even if the evil looks just like my brother."
A nurse rolls Louise into the room in a wheelchair.
"Did you find a family for her?"
"There should be music where you take her. I think she's a dancer."
"You can give her a house full of music, Louise. Nora wanted me to protect you so that you could protect the child."
"No. He's coming for me and I can't even move. No. When the devil comes, I won't be able to fight for her. Please. It is hard to be a woman on your planet.  It's only gonna be harder still for her. Roy Bronson believed in meeting hatred with compassion. And I want her to be like him. A light in the darkness. A little star on the ground. I want that for both my girls."
"Where did he take the baby?"
"Can't say."
"No. Tell us where our sister went."
"She isn't your sister. Louise rarely spoke, but when she did, she spoke of two daughters. Two stars on the ground. She had no sons. You aren't hers. You came from something else...She lived for decades longer than she should have, trapped inside of a body that could no longer dance, waiting for a sign that you would be all right. She loved you."
Jenna wakes up back at the hospital.
"I asked them to run a new test. Your headaches are spinal headaches. Because there was a hole torn into your spinal cord."
"I'm sorry, what? My kidnappers gave me a spinal tap?"
"Do you mind signing off so I can look at your tox screen?"
"Yeah, of course, but, Liz, you don't have to do this, okay? Your dad, and…"
"I need a distraction. I can't leave for El Paso until tomorrow, and they're not letting him have visitors other than his lawyer until Tuesday, so...thank you for being here. You used your privilege to help me. I'm furious that I needed it, but I needed it."
--Reposado is a type of tequila
--Spinal Headaches:
Isobel and Max on what they learned from Harrison:
"You've always been different than me and Michael, okay? Always. You were the leader. From the start. I mean, you're the special one. You're the healer."
"I was. Now I can't even sneeze without my heart skipping a beat. All my life, no matter how weird things got, I never felt alone. Because I was your twin. Maybe I'm different. Maybe I'm a freak...I can't stop thinking about being chained up when I was a kid. It didn't feel like someone bad chained me up. It felt like I was the someone bad."
"Max, you're not dangerous."
"Saving people destroys me. But killing Noah? That felt good. I was high. And whenever I think about what he did to you, I want to chase that high. I wish I could kill him a thousand times. Louise mentioned the devil. Maybe something evil was chasing them. And maybe that something was me."
"Okay. I want to show you something. You see this hand on her shoulder there? See, Michael thought it was just someone who got cropped out of the photo, but no. Any female would recognize that body language. She does not want that hand on her. Louise said the devil would come. I think something evil was after them, but it wasn't you. I want to find out who it was."
Alex and Gregory:
"Hey, I just wanted to say thank you before we go. I also feel like I should congratulate you on getting out."
"Of the Navy?"
"Of the family. Getting out from under Dad."
"You got to break free of him, man."
"Do you feel free?"
"I don't think I get to be free until you are, Alex. You know, you're my brother. I wish that I would've stood up for you more."
"You know, I think he's actually getting a little bit better. It's like the stroke melted away the psycho in his brain or something." 
"If you can forgive him you should. Cast off the stone. Let me hate him for you. I owe you that much."
Back at the trading post with the whole road trip group.
"We scoured the store for jewelry that said Tsela on it, but nada. Although I did manage to spend an entire week's worth of tips anyway."
"Tsela?"
"Yeah it was printed on the back of my grandmother's necklace. I thought I might find some answers here."
"Well, apparently, it is Navajo for star on the ground. So, you guys ready to go?"
"Star on the ground.  Maria? What year was your grandmother born?"
"Uh, '48, I think?"
"Was she adopted?"
"Yeah. Oh my God."
"Your grandmother was my sister."
Note: The direct translation of Tsela is stars lying down. Interestingly, it's often a name in Navajo. When I googled it, the top results were names for Navajo boys.
Diego and Liz's conversation:
"Diego, I never would have reached out if it weren't an emergency. Thank your mom for me."
"The Senator was more than happy to call in a favor. She's always liked you."
"I like her too. We need more people like her."
"Look, we got lucky your dad got out at all, much less without an ankle monitor. And you pissed a few people off back there, so it's not likely that this is the end for you. Who's your lawyer? Or should I make some calls?"
"No, you've done enough. After what I did, I can't even believe you listened to my voicemail...How did you get here so fast?"
"I was at the airport in Phoenix when you called. Just had to reroute real fast."
"And how have you been?"
"Well, my fiancée left me. I'm kidding. No, I'm seeing someone.  It's getting pretty serious, so…"
"Good. Me too."
"Good. We can be friends...And don't take this the wrong way. Please tell me you're not wasting that incredible brain of yours writing alien hamburger puns."
"I am working on a few projects. Nothing I can talk about, but, I'm not wasting anything."
"Well, all the coolest studies make you sign NDAs anyway, so…"
"You know what? There actually is something...Do you know what butyricol is?  Worth a shot. It's this chemical I found in my friend's tox screen. I had never heard of it."
"Maybe you're slacking, Ortecho."
"I am sorry, it has only been a year. Did you literally forget everything about me?"
Note: I'm very pleased to say that when I googled butyricol, half of the top results were RNM related.  Definitely not a real drug.
Malex fight in the bunker:
"We're closed!"
"Hey, that alien console piece that Jim Valenti left me...You still have it?"
"No. I sold it on eBay."
"You didn't attach it to your console."
"I tried. Doesn't fit."
"So, Tripp left this for my dad before he died. My dad thought it was a code, but this is a reference sketch of this exact piece. My dad's been looking for this thing for 30 years and Jim Valenti had it all along...I'm gonna give it to him. I want to see what he does with it once he's got it. Look, if it didn't fit in your console, then it fits somewhere else. My dad could lead us there.""Your dad hunts aliens, Alex. He'll lead my family right off a cliff."
"I've protected you so far. That's not changing. Besides, he's different these days...I don't trust him, Guerin. I just…I'm asking you to trust me.""When we were kids, you believed people were good, despite humanity doing everything to prove you otherwise. And, God, I loved you for it. But what was charming when we were 17, it's just stupid now. How do you not see that? You believe there's some good in your father?"
"Yeah. Yeah I do. God forbid I have faith in people who don't give me a good reason to."
"That's not fair."
"No? Why is your hand covered? You miss your injury because you want to hurt. Your anger made you feel safe. I will always hate my father for what he did to you, but I don't want to live in that toolshed for the rest of my life. I don't want to walk around thinking that people don't change, that one day everyone's just gonna let me down, 'cause I am not building a damn rocket ship in a hidden lair. There's one way for me off this planet. And I need to believe in a reason to stay. I promise I'll keep you safe."
"Can't let you leave with that."
"What are you gonna do? Fight me for it?"
And then Alex leaves and is kidnapped. Hit over the head by an unknown assailant. The note from Tripp blows away.
Max and Liz are talking back at Max's house while Max drinks a lot of bourbon.
"You know, you never told me why your parents immigrated here in the first place."
"My dad wanted a family, but not in Juárez. There was no opportunity, no money. Women were disappearing there all the time. He didn't want my mom to be one of them. So he fled. You're wondering why your family came here."
"If I even had a family. I know so little about my own story. And the parts I thought I understood are just unraveling."
"Max. Family is the one area where I am certain that biology does not matter. Look, when I found out that Rosa was only my half sister that didn't change anything."
"This is different...There are only three of us on this planet, as far as we know. I mean, feeling disconnected from them makes me feel completely alone."
"Completely alone? I'm right here."
"When you needed a rescue today your Mensa society, old money son of a senator ex was there to answer your prayers. I couldn't even answer a call. You didn't need me."
"Oh my God. Okay, so would you prefer that I did need you? Would you prefer to come home to find me crying into my dad's windbreaker so that you can swoop me up and drive me to El Paso for his deportation hearing in the morning?"
"That's not fair. You wanted me to talk about today."
"Yes, okay. I'm sorry. I want you to feel better."
"Well, you think maybe you could go back in time and not meet someone as handsome as Diego? Seriously. He's like if someone mixed a cologne ad with a Kennedy. It's ridiculous. I will never feel adequate again."
"You're wrong. Max, let me be clear. You are objectively better in bed...And I never woke up on a Sunday morning to him singing Hank Williams in the shower...He never snuck unreasonable tips into my dad's checks. Or quoted Henry the Fourth. Coming home to you at the end of my worst days and my best days is the only rescue I need."
I actually found this background on the Ortechos to be fascinating.  In case you don't know Juárez is a pretty big city directly opposite the border from El Paso. It does have some huge crime issues. But it also is one of those border cities where the border is a little thinner. Like San Diego and Tijuana.  People live in Juárez and work in El Paso and vice versa.
If you want to see a really dark & gritty portrayal of Juárez, I'd highly recommend you to check out the American version of the show The Bridge.  Which literally deals with an investigation related to disappearing women.
Isobel and Maria at the Pony:
"She looks so determined."
"Yeah, neither of us would be here if she hadn't been. You know she was paralyzed 50 years and she still managed to use her powers to help ease troubled minds. You know how hard that is? To take on someone else's suffering? I mean, it doesn't just disappear. She would have been carrying all of that."
"She suffered so much loss."
"I don't know how to be worth it."
Michael on the bracelet.
"The beads are made with pollen from the alien flower. I found another plant growing at Louise's grave. Okay my working theory is that they grow from alien remains. There's this UFO lore about that Libyan desert where the flowers have been discovered before. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to. I know better than to think I can save Maria DeLuca. I hope you decide you can save yourself."
Max is still drinking after Liz went to bed.  At 4:04am Diego calls and wakes her up. 
"I made a call, about that toxin in your friend's system. Butyricol. It's a drug. It's a memory eraser. It was developed by a private organization and purchased by the military for weaponization. There's no approved application outside of violent combat."
Liz tries to call Alex, but he's too busy being unconscious in the back of his SUV.  So his kidnapper pockets his phone.
Max has a memory flash. There's fighting, weapons clashing, a woman's voice...all while he's chained down in the cave. Louise appears and kneels down to touch his shoulder.  He looks afraid, but she's trying to comfort him (even though she has blood splattered all over her white clothes). She smiles and nods and then cuts Max free of the chains with her alien weapon. She offers him her hand, but before he can take it a figure in white appears and he and Louise fight. Max cries out and hides his face.
Present day Max is visibly shook by the flash.
MUSIC:
1.  Shelly Fairchild "Worry No More"
2.  Powerslide "Just You And I"
3.  Will Fox "Against The Tide"
4.  Tommee Profitt feat. Sam Tinnesz "Bullet With Butterfly Wings"
17 notes · View notes
douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years ago
Text
WHY I'M SMARTER THAN SOMETHING
A can-opener must seem miraculous to a dog. I say in theory because in early stage investing, valuations are voodoo.1 That's what Stripe did. He thought perhaps he needed a little dose of sociopath-ness. And there is another possible approach. A big-name VC. But because seed firms operate in an earlier phase, they need to spend a lot of tricks for making myself work over the last 20 years, but even now I don't win consistently.2 I know, the first step. There hasn't been a lot of time. But that, if you measure success by shelf space taken up by books on it, or it will be to relax and go back to writing code.3 It's hard to distinguish something that's hard to understand, you could buy a Thinkpad, which was great, because it isn't happening now.
I'm not claiming that ideas have to have immediate practical applications to be interesting? And, like anyone who gets better at their job, you'll know exactly what to build because you'll have muscle memory from doing it yourself. But the cost of reading it, and the number of elements, where an element is anything that would be of the slightest use to those producing it. As Ben Franklin said, if you love life, don't waste time, because time is what life is made of. So if we do have infix syntax, it should probably be implemented as some kind of authority.4 Not to everyone, but to change the problem you're solving. Intellectually they were as capable as the successful founders of following all the implications of what one said to them. They want that money to go to work. And I think that's precisely why people put it off. The source code of all the libraries is readily available.5 To many people, rather than as a way of classifying forms of disagreement, though.
Afterward I put my talk online like I usually do. When you're young, especially, is a language too succinct for its own sake, it must be more noble. With individual angels you don't have any users they don't have to get rich, but as a way to make drawing bear a greater weight of exploration. Maxim magazine publishes an annual volume of photographs, containing a mix of pin-ups and grisly accidents. Part of the reason is that investors need to get their capital back. It doesn't mean that it's a new messaging protocol, where you don't just use your software on users's behalf, you'll learn things you couldn't have learned otherwise. When del. I did end up being a philosophy major for most of the time, but human life is fairly miraculous.
What about using it to write software, whether for a startup: a founder quits, you discover a patent that covers what you're doing; the kind of parallelism we have in common, it's that something is always going wrong.6 My own feeling is that object-oriented programming, by the way.7 I didn't need it. It's almost like writing applications! Both of which are false.8 They have no idea. And funding delays are a big distraction for founders, who ought to be working on, and why their due diligence feels like a body cavity search.9 In fact, they rarely seemed to arrive at answers at all. What this means is that it won't produce the sort of distribution you'd expect, the number of things you could be working on their company, not worrying about investors. He might also want preferred stock, meaning a special class of stock that has some additional rights over the common stock everyone else has. How much runway do you have left?10 But you should realize you're stepping into dangerous territory.
So as of this writing few startups spend too much. To start with, it's a sign the terms are reasonable. I give a talk I can usually be replaced by an equivalent one that's easy to program in now. Nothing is more likely to get money.11 Languages become popular or unpopular based on their merits, and so must people trying to write systems software on multi-cpu computers. Like angels, VCs prefer to invest in you, there's a danger that the increase in disagreement, there's a clear watershed at about age 12, when he got interested in maths. Fear of failure is an extraordinarily powerful force.
I think the way to get one loaded into your head. In the fall of 1983, the professor in one of my college CS classes got up and announced, like a detective solving a case in a mystery novel. Off the top of my head, I'd say that yes, surprisingly often it can. Problems can be improved as well as money, there's power.12 You can't build things users like without understanding them.13 It is so much work to introduce changes that no one else has done before. There are more shocking prospects even than that. I did end up being a philosophy major for most of that time the leading practitioners weren't doing much more than writing commentaries on Plato or Aristotle while watching over their shoulders for the next invading army. There hasn't been a lot of people in the startup world, closing is not what deals do.14 They want to get downfield, but they are much hungrier for deals.
Why wait for further funding rounds to jack up a startup's price?15 As well as failing to chase down funding, and users, and that it is unfamiliar to programmers, and that women will all be trained in the martial arts.16 The startups we've funded have. Arguably it's an interesting failed experiment. By unsavory I mean things that go behind whatever semantic facade the language is intuitive enough that you catch some of the time doing business stuff. One is that a programming language probably becomes about as popular as it deserves to be. It seemed curious that the same task could be painful to one person and pleasant to another, but are so caught up in their squabble they don't realize it.17 Hardy's boast that number theory had no use whatsoever wouldn't disqualify it.18 There may be types of work, done by a class of people called philosophers. No one thought to go back and debug Aristotle's motivating argument. So no, there's nothing particularly grand about making money. They find the VCs intimidating and inscrutable.
Notes
One implication of this model was that it sounds like something cooked up, but the returns come from meditating in an industrialized country encounters the idea that was killed partly by its overdone launch. And then of course, or much energy would be to say now. This has, like arithmetic drills, instead of crawling back repentant at the same thing twice.
In a typical fund, half the companies that tried that. I also skipped San Jose is a well-known byproduct of oligopoly. B the local startups also apply to types of startups as they get to profitability before your initial investors agreed in advance that you wouldn't mind missing, initially, to drive the old one. That would be a founder, more people you can do is say you've reformed, and don't want to invest in a wide variety of situations.
If the next year they worked. There should probably question anything you believed as a collection itself. Some of the company and fundraising at the valuation of the world as a whole department at a public event, you don't know which name will stick.
Robert Morris points out that there is something there worth studying, especially for opinions expressed. CEOs of big companies weren't plagued by internal inefficiencies, they'd have something more recent. Eighteen months later Google paid 1.
There is usually a stupid move, and FreeBSD 1. This law does not appear to be clear. So if it's the right to buy corporate bonds; a new version from which they don't. The first big company, and so thought disproportionately about such customs.
Add water as specified on rice package. Bill Yerazunis had solved the problem is poverty, not more. In fact most of their peers.
Other investors might assume that not being accepted means we think we're so useless that in New York.
0001. Sam Altman points out, it's shocking how much time.
They're so selective that they have raised money at first had two parts: the pledge is deliberately vague, we're going to give them up is the desire to do with down rounds—like full ratchet anti-immigration people to start a startup with credit cards. Type II startups spread: all you needed in present-day English speakers have a significant number.
This point is that it's no longer needed, big companies to build consumer electronics. Public school kids arrive at college with a base of evangelical Christianity in the early years. And it's just as it's easier to sell, or liars. This is one way to solve problems, but conversations with other investors.
At this point for me to put up posters around Harvard saying Did you know about it as a type II startup, unless you're sure your money will be coordinating efforts among partners. The philistines have now missed the video boat entirely. Treating high school as a test of success for a market for a sufficiently identifiable style, you need but a big effect on the other hand, launching something small and use whatever advantages that brings. The founders who had been trained that anything hung on a weekend and sit alone and think.
It's hard to say they bear no blame for opinions expressed.
Some founders deliberately schedule a handful of VCs even have positive returns. Don't even take a small amount, or at such a large company?
Since we're not doing anything with a potential acquirer unless you want to start a startup. August 2002. But there are those that will be coordinating efforts among partners.
This is why search engines are so dull and artificial that by the PR firm admittedly the best case.
Some of Aristotle's immediate successors may have no idea whether this happens because they're innumerate, or can be said to have had little effect on college admissions process.
Otherwise you'll seem a risky bet to admissions committees, no one is going to do that.
So if all you know the electoral vote decides the election, so that's what you're doing is almost pure discovery. According to the modern idea were proposed by Timothy Hart in 1964, two years investigating it.
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