Friend or Foe?

Rachel rushed into her bedroom and shut the door. She leaned against it, shaking with fear, as if the ghost of Ronald Blake was behind her. Anonymous tip: from whom? Had there been a witness? But why come forward now? Her phone rang, startling her badly. She picked it up, a feeling of dread rising within her.

"Hello?"

"Hey Ray," Richie said cheerfully. "You've seen the news, right? I'm sure you have; how do you like it?"

She couldn't speak; her mouth was dry. So Richie hadn't been bluffing after all.

"What's the matter, Ray? Cat got your tongue?" He laughed.

"Richie, how could you?" She whispered hoarsely.

"I warned you, but you won't listen. I thought you could call my bluff? Well, think again! I'm giving you one more chance. Be at my place at 9 a.m. tomorrow, or the cops will get another anonymous tip." He hung up.

Rachel sank to the floor. There was no escaping this. She was either Riche's prisoner or a prisoner of the state. What if she chose the latter? She would lose Kingsley just when they were getting back together. No! It couldn't happen. Damn Richie! But how had he known she'd been planning to call his bluff?

She heard Kingsley coming upstairs. She quickly sat on the bed and tried to pull herself together.

He came in. "Sorry to keep you waiting, babe. Franca ambushed me as I left the library. What's wrong?" He noticed her white face.

She smiled weakly. " Nothing."

"Are you sure?" He went over to her. "You look pale. Did Franca say something silly?"

"I'm fine, just tired." She lied.

She'd promised no more secrets, but this was one secret she had to keep for their sake.

He kissed her. "I'll bring you some hot chocolate. Be back in a minute."

He went downstairs. She jumped up and began pacing. 

What do I do? What do I do?

Giving in to Richie would hurt Kingsley, but not giving in would also hurt him. She was stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. She wished her parents were alive. She needed them now more than ever.

Mom, dad, I need help!

She heard Kingsley coming and sat down. He came in with a mug of chocolate, which she forced herself to drink. Then they turned off the lights and turned on. In the arms of her love, all her worries and fears disappeared. 

Only to return by daybreak. She had breakfast with the family, then waited till everyone had left before getting dressed and heading for the Rest Place Hotel.

Richie was having breakfast when she barged into his room, slamming the door behind her.

"How could you?" She demanded.

"Good morning to you, Ray."

"Why are you doing this?"

"What? Eating breakfast? Because it's the most important meal of the day."

His mocking tone angered her."You're supposed to be my friend; how could you betray me like that?"

"Wow! So, do you remember that I'm your friend? Yet you had no hesitation choosing the Mitchells over me!"

"Stop it, Richie!"

"They hated you and still do. They would've thrown you into the street if not for me, but yet you consider them your family."

"They are my family. I'm married to Kingsley; his family is my family, and you're my family too; can't you see that?"

"Then help me; let's work as a family."

"After you've betrayed me,"

He snorted. "If I'd betrayed you, you wouldn't be here ranting; you'd be in jail. Now sit down, let me finish my breakfast."

She stood, glaring at him.

"I won't repeat it," he warned.

Angrily, she dropped into the room's only chair.

"We'll talk when I'm done. Join me," he invited.

She ignored him. He poured a cup of coffee and put it on the coffee table in front of her. She sipped it reluctantly.

There was silence till Richie finished his food, set the tray on the table, and lit a cigarette. 

"You've quit, right? Because of Kingsley?"

She didn't answer.

"You changed your life for him, yet he doesn't appreciate you."

"Say what you have to say and leave my husband out of this!" She snapped.

He laughed. "Ray, Ray. Look, I never planned for you to get into trouble. You know I'd never hurt you. I love you. I didn't even want to do it, but you left me no choice. Now I hope you'll be reasonable and not push me to do something we'll both regret."

"How did you know I'd planned to call your bluff?" She forced herself to ask.

"Because I know you better than you know yourself. Remember that."

"What do you want, Richie?"

"I've already told you to destroy Mabel Mitchell and her 'perfect' family."

"Why? I'm not helping you till you tell me why."

"Because she deserves it. For all she's done to you, And that's the only answer you're going to get. And you will help me, whether you want to or not. I've told you before, and I'll tell you again: don't push me to do what we'll both regret."

She swallowed fearfully, knowing he meant every word.

"Now, the first stage of the operation,'make Mabel pay."

Her eyes widened in alarm. He laughed.

"Yeah, I gave it a name. In the first stage, you have to find me a place to stay. A bedsit or flat, I want to leave this hotel."

"I can't. I don't know many places; you need to leave town, Richie, please."

He ignored her. "I want the place by tomorrow, so you better get started. I won't give you any money to pay for it; you'll be using their money. Let it be their contribution to their downfall." He laughed.

Rachel felt sick. The person standing before her wasn't Richie, but an evil stranger. 

"What happened on June 5?" She asked quietly. "At least tell me that."

"I have nothing more to say."

Knowing it would be a waste of time to say anything more, she stood up and made for the door.

"Remember, Ray, no tricks. I've given you one more chance; you won't get another," he warned.

She glared at him, then left, slamming the door. He waited for a few minutes, then pulled out his cell and called Calisa.

Rachel sat in her car, trying to untangle her jumbled thoughts. 

It was clear that there was no escape. She would have to do what Richie wanted, but at what cost? Her phone rang, startling her. It was Calisa.

"Hey Gina, how are you doing?"

"Fine, and you?"

"I'm great. Are you okay? You sound tense."

"I'm fine, really," she forced herself to sound natural.

"How did it go with the blackmailer? Hope there is no problem there."

"No. Everything went great. Your advice was good. It worked." 

"Glad it turned out alright."

"Yeah," then an idea occurred to her: "Mmm… I could use your help again, if it's not too much to ask."

"Of course not; ask."

"A friend of mine is in town and looking for a house, but I don't know any realtors. Can you help?"

" Sure. I know quite a few. What do you have in mind?"

"A bedsit, or flat, not too expensive and as far away from me as possible. On the outskirts of town!" She said vehemently.

"Why do you want your friend so far away? Is everything okay?"

Rachel winced. "Sure, I didn't mean it like that; it's just... they don't like the noise and bustle of the city, that's all." She lied.

"OK, don't worry. Give me a couple of days. I'll find something I know you'll like."

"No! ... I mean... I need it by tomorrow, please."

"Tomorrow? That's a bit sudden."

"I know, but please, could you try? It's kind of urgent."

"OK, I'll do my best. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine,"

"I'll call you this evening."

"Thanks; I owe you one."

She hung up, her mind still in turmoil.

Calisa called Richie.

"Well?"

"She asked me to find her a place for a friend on the outskirts of town, as far away from her as possible."

Richie chuckled. "Good, she's doing as she's told."

"What was she told to do? Is the house for you?"

"Yes." Richie ignored her first question. "I want a flat that is fully furnished and not out of town. Have it ready by tomorrow."

" Why? I thought you said you were only staying a few weeks; why the change?"

"Get to it and stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

He hung up. Calisa cursed him.

Franca sat in her office, trying to shut out the noise from the kitchen. There had been an order, and the workers were working hard to meet up. She should be supervising them since her mom was away attending a function, but she had no appetite for any work. She needed to think about what she'd seen last night.

Gina had looked like she'd seen a ghost when the missing man's picture came on screen. Why? Did she know him? And how? What was the connection? The man was from Silvertown; Mabel had told her Gina was from Littletown. 

She could have lied. Perhaps she was from Silvertown. Could the man be her relative?

She sat up with excitement.

Of course, the man was her husband! The deceitful girl was a bigamist! That would explain her reaction. She's afraid the police will start poking around and discovering it.

Franca picked up her cell to call Kingsley and tell him about her findings. Then she paused; she had no evidence. Though she knew she was right, she needed evidence. 

How do I get it?

She thought for a while and decided a PI would be needed. There was one who her dad often hired to dig up secrets about patients who threatened to sue him.

She would see him immediately. She got into her car and drove furiously to the Melman Detective Agency. A receptionist gave her directions to Peter Melman's office.

Peter Melman was of average height and weight and had a face that would blend into a crowd.

"I want to hire you to get information on somebody," Franca said, dropping into the visitor's chair. "She is a bigamist. I know. I just need you to find proof. I want the information by Saturday. How much?"

Melman said dryly, "Nice to meet you too. Ms….."

"Franca Mills. You work for my father, Dr. Mills."

"Yes, I've done work for him. So what can I do for you?"

"Haven't you been listening? I want you to investigate a gold-digging bigamist."

"Why?"

She was startled. "What do you mean, why?"

"I have to know why you want her investigated."

"None of your business. Now are you taking the case or not?"

"If you won't tell me, then I'm not," he said firmly.

She clenched her teeth in rage, then tried to calm down.

"She is married to a friend of mine, but someone told me she'd been married before. I want to know if it's true." 

Melman knew she was lying, but the lie was good enough for him. He picked up a pen and a notepad.

"Your name?"

"Franca Mills! How many times do I-"

"Name of the person to be investigated?"

"Gina Amilo."

"I need all her personal details."

"In her twenties, from Littletown, she lives in Greenville, too lazy to do anything but..."

"Names of the men she's married to?" Franca annoyed him; he couldn't wait for her to leave.

"Here, she's married to Kingsley Mitchell."

"Is he related to James Mitchell?

"Yes. His son. She was married to Ronald Blake in Silvertown."

"Is he a member of the wealthy Blake family?"

She stared blankly. "I'm not sure,"

"Ok. Do you have her picture?"

"Do you need it?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I do."

"You can get them from social media," she told him through Rachel's handle.

"How much will it cost?" She asked.

He told her. "Pay to the accountant downstairs."

She stood up. "I'll be back on Saturday."

"It doesn't work that way, Ms. Mills. Getting the information will take me a couple of weeks.

"That's too long!"

"That's just the way it's going to be."

She swallowed her anger. "Fine. As long as I get results,"

"You will, I promise. I'll find out who Gina Amillo really is."