Rene Gutteridge - Listen

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Nothing ever happens in the small town of Marlo… until the residents begin seeing their private conversations posted online for everyone to read. Then it's neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend, as paranoia and violence escalate. The police scramble to identify the person responsible for the posts and pull the plug on the Website before it destroys the town. But what responsibility do the people of the town have for the words they say when they think no one is listening? Life and death are in the power of the tongue.

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“When you were five years old, you used to eat four pieces. Your face was a mess of grease. You wanted to have your birthday party there!”

Jenna laughed. Giggled, actually. He hadn’t heard her giggle in a long time. She sounded like a little girl again. “I guess one piece won’t kill me.”

“It might, but it’ll be worth it. Go find your brother, will you? I’m starving.”

Jenna nodded, and Damien watched the crowds for Kay. But soon his ears tuned into a conversation nearby. He couldn’t help but listen. Their small words drowned the hundreds of nearby voices.

“I’m just saying, I wouldn’t show my face the day after my divorce was settled.”

“You know why he’s here.”

“And why she’s wearing a short skirt.”

Damien turned, trying to get away from it. He noticed Kay and waved at her. She held up a finger as she finished her conversation. That was when Damien noticed Zoey and Caydance. They both crossed their arms, glaring at someone across the room. Damien couldn’t figure out who they were looking at.

“Let’s go,” Jenna said, coming up from behind with Hunter in tow.

“Jenna, who are those girls looking at?” Damien asked, pointing.

“Probably their own reflection. Let’s go, okay?”

Kay joined them and they left, but Damien couldn’t help but steal another glance. Whoever it was could be at the receiving end of a lot of unpleasantries.

After breaking up an impromptu scuffle in front of the Chinese restaurant, over a conversation off the Web site that may or may not have been about the tall guy’s wife, Frank took lunch and heaped a giant serving of lo mein onto his plate, then pushed his tray down the long self-serve buffet line. He skipped the hot and sour soup but decided on a couple of egg rolls. He joined his rookie back at the table, eyeing the kid’s steamed vegetables and rice. He watched him dash it all with a splash of soy sauce.

“Careful,” Frank said, taking the soy sauce from him. “That sodium can kill you.”

Gavin stared at Frank’s heaping plate, then looked at Frank. He cracked a small, hesitant smile, unsure, Frank guessed, of whether or not Frank was kidding. For a cop, the kid was lacking some serious gut instincts.

“Chinese food is less healthy than it looks,” Gavin said. He pointed his fork toward the egg roll. “Don’t let the cabbage in there fool you.”

“And don’t let the smile on my face fool you.”

Gavin stopped pointing and started eating. “You know,” he said after a moment, “I’ve been thinking about this Web site. I read somewhere that there’s a program that can be loaded onto cell phones, and then someone can listen to conversations wherever the cell phone goes. Even if the cell phone is turned off.”

“Interesting idea.”

“I went by one of the cell phone stores here, just asked some questions. Nobody seemed particularly nervous.”

“That’s what you’re going on, whether people seemed nervous or not?”

“I figured if they’d done something, they wouldn’t like me asking around.”

“Yes, because criminals have a long history of not being able to hide under a facade.” Frank tilted his head. “It’s going to take more than that.” Gavin looked wounded and Frank sighed. “But it’s a good thought. It might explain some of this.”

The wounds slid right off Gavin like Chinese noodles off a chopstick. His face was back to bright and cheery. “Also, there are some pretty powerful listening devices that use laser beams. But they’re really expensive. And of course come with explicit instructions on how illegal it is to listen to private conversations.”

“Yes, those types of warnings always discourage the bad guys.”

Gavin leaned in. “You think this is a bad guy?”

Frank twirled his noodles. “He’s breaking the law. It’s up to someone else to decide whether he’s bad or good.”

A shadow passed over their plates, and Frank was just about to order another Diet Coke when he looked up. “Angela?”

“Hi, Frank.” She had a hand on her hip and an attitude on her face. She glanced at Gavin, who sank back into his seat while staring at her as if she were a wild zoo exhibit. The idea that Gavin cowered to a harsh look from a female was not boding well with Frank. What was he going to do when a bullet stared him down? “Can we have a moment?”

Frank indicated Gavin should leave.

Gavin gathered his plate, water, and utensils and wandered off to find another table. Angela slid into his seat.

Frank kept eating. “I’m minding my own business here.”

Her face softened. “I know, Frank. I know.”

“How did you find me?”

“It’s Sunday. You eat at this buffet every Sunday unless you’re not working, in which case you order supreme pizza and stay at home.”

“I might’ve changed my routine since we were together.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

Frank finally set his fork down. He was rapidly losing his appetite. “Why are you here? To harass me some more?”

“Who is harassing whom?”

“I hate when you talk like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you ain’t never met a piece of grammar that didn’t turn you on.”

“And I hate when you use ain’t.”

“I know.” Frank smiled.

“And we wonder why we didn’t make it.” Angela stood. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Frank waved her back into her seat. “No, please. I’m sorry. Yeah, I’m kind of reeling from you reporting me to my supervisor. But I’ll get over it.” He started eating again. “You look nice.”

“Frank, I don’t have… I don’t know who else to turn to.”

Frank shoved his plate to the side. “What’s wrong? I can tell something’s wrong.”

She nodded, tears brimming. “I’ve gotten…”

“Yes? What is it?” Frank reached across the table and took her hand. “Ang, you can tell me. You know that. What’s going on?”

“I’ve gotten myself into a terrible mess.”

“Talk to me.”

“First of all, that awful Web site…”

“I know of it.”

“One of my conversations is on there. I mean, I’m not named but I know it’s me. I remember saying it. We’d gotten into a fight and-”

“We? You and I?”

She bowed her head. “No.”

Frank sipped his drink, glancing away to try to hide the pain that was surely surfacing. He saw Gavin across the room staring at them.

“Things are getting very… complicated. I think I’m in way over my head.”

Frank studied her. One shoulder slouched, a sign of perhaps a bigger imbalance in her life. “You’re going to have to be more specific. You have to tell me what’s going on. Is your life in danger?”

“I think so.”

Frank’s chest tightened and his ears burned, probably turning bright red. “All right, I’ll handle this. What’s his name?”

“It’s not him. It’s her.”

Frank sat back. What was she trying to say here? That she was dating a-

“It’s his wife.” She clutched the napkin on the table. “Not my finest moment, I know. But they were in the middle of separating, and he swore it was over. But then she found out.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure. I think maybe the Web site… She probably figured out it was Mike in that conversation.” She looked at Frank now, her eyes begging for forgiveness, understanding. “She’s very angry, threatening a lot of stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“You know… she’s going to kill me.”

“Does he think she’s serious?”

Angela tore the edges off the napkin. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. He’s acting weird too.”

Frank tried a calming breath. This was a lot to take in. “Weird how?”

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