Gina Amilo is Dead!

"Why are you here?" Mabel asked, looking at the big traveling bag she held.

"Why? To see my big sister, of course," Jean Sinclair smirked.

"I didn't invite you; please go," Mabel said.

"Come on, Mabel, where is your religious heart? Remember, you're the angel; I'm supposed to be the devil."

"I don't have time for this; just leave."

"At least let me deliver the message. It's about dad."

"What message? Is he alright?" Mabel asked anxiously.

"If I can come in, I'll explain, then leave."

Mabel hesitated, then reluctantly stood aside to let her in.

"Leave the bag here," Mabel ordered.

Smirking, Jean left the bag in front of the door. Mabel led her into the living room.

"Nice," Jean said, dropping into the nearest armchair and putting her feet on the coffee table. "Things have turned out well for you, sis, not that I'm surprised."

"Don't get too comfortable," Mabel warned, sitting on the sofa across from her. "Now what is the message?" 

"Easy, won't you offer me a drink?

"No! What is the message?"

"Really sis. You don't have to be so mean."

"I'm waiting for the message,"

"Dad is scheduled to have surgery next week. It's not serious, just laser eye surgery."

"He sent you to tell me this? He never mentioned it to me the last time we spoke.

"Maybe it hadn't been scheduled then."

"So why didn't he call to tell me?"

"He plans to. You'll hear from him in a week or so."

"Then why send you to hear?"

"Who said anything about him sending me?" she smiled mischievously. "I said I came to tell you; I never said dad sent me. It's been a while since I spoke to him. He rarely calls me. You know I'm the problem child."

"So, why are you here?"

"I was offered a job in Newtown. The interview is next week, so—"

Mabel stood up. "Get out! I don't want to see you here anymore. I knew you were up to no good. You can't weasel your way into my house! Now, go!"

She sighed. "Really, sis, must you be like this?"

Rachel came in. "KK I—" she stopped short on seeing Jean.

"Wow! Who is this beauty?" Jean asked, smiling at her.

"None of your business. Now leave!" Mabel shouted.

"Hey sweetie, I'm Jean, Mabel's bad baby sister. Who are you?"

Rachel stared at her. She was shorter than Mabel, slim, and had her hair dyed jet black. Her face was pear-shaped, with a thin, cruel mouth and cold, steel-gray eyes. 

"Nice to meet you Jean. I'm—"

"It's none of her business," Mabel snapped at Rachel. "She's on her way out."

Kingsley came in. He was surprised to see Jean.

"KK, sweetheart, come and give your aunt a hug," Jean said, smiling.

"Aunt Jean, hi," he said, going over to hug her. "When did you get into town?"

"This morning, dear. Wow, you've grown so big. How is Franca? Are you guys married now?"

"This is my wife, Gina," Kingsley said quickly. "Babe, meet my aunt Jean."

"My, my, my!" Jean exclaimed. "So you got married, and nobody told me. She is beautiful, so she must be better than that snob, Franca, who your mom tried to force on you just because she's friends with her deceptive mother."

Kingsley winced.

"It's time to go," Mabel told her.

She ignored Mabel. "You are beautiful, Gina. I'm happy to meet you."

"Thank you," Rachel said awkwardly. Jean's artificial manner made her uncomfortable.

"How is Paul?" Kingsley asked, referring to her son.

"He's fine. He's with his uncle Tony, and how is Lucy?"

"It's time to go, Jean," Mabel declared. "Now!" 

"Lucy is great. Well, we'll be going," Kingsley said hastily. "Bye Aunt Jean,"

"Bye sweetheart, bye Gina."

Kingsley rushed Gina out, leaving his mom and her sister to battle it out. It'd been years since he'd seen his aunt and mom together, but he knew enough of their relationship to know their meeting would end in an argument, one he wouldn't want to witness.

"Stand up, Jean; it's time to leave," Mabel repeated.

"Why? I'm your sister. I'm only asking you to let me stay a few days."

"And I said no! Get out!"

"Honey, what's wrong?" James came in. His eyes widened. "Jean, what are you doing here?"

"Hi James, you look so young and handsome. Mabel is such a good wife."

"For the last time, Jean! Get out!"

"Relax, honey," her husband soothed. He turned to Jean. "Why are you hearing?"

"I've been offered a job; the interview is next week, so I just want to stay until then.

"And I've said no. Go to a hotel."

"I hate hotels. Please, let me stay. I'll be gone as soon as I'm done with the interview."

"The answer is still..."

"Yes," James put in.

His wife stared at him.

"Yes, you can stay, but only for a week. After that, you leave, understand?"

"Hurray! Thanks guys,"

"But James," Mabel protested.

"Just a week, honey, then she'll be out. She is your sister, after all."

"Just a week, then I'll be out," Jean repeated. "I promise,"

Mabel let out a sigh of annoyance.

"Thanks. You guys are the best," Jean stood up. "Which one of you sweethearts is going to show me to my room?"

Without a word, Mabel turned and walked out. Jean retrieved her bag and followed her upstairs to the guest room.

"It's perfect," Jean said, looking around the room.

"Don't get too comfortable," Mabel said acidly. "By next week, you'll be out."

She turned and marched downstairs.

Jean laughed softly. "That's what you think, sis."

She walked around the room, her bitterness rising as she compared the comfortable, well-finished room to the squalor she lived in.

Mabel has always been the lucky one; she has always been the golden child. Well, that's about to change. Her perfect life is about to unravel.

She thought about their childhood. Mabel and Tony had always been the good ones, while she was an embarrassment. Mabel was their father's favorite. She could do no wrong, even when she'd been in trouble for trying to sell pastries made with expired flour. Jean had been her mother's favorite until she started getting into trouble with the law; the final straw had been getting pregnant out of wedlock and refusing to disclose the father's identity. Her disappointed mother had shifted her affection to Tony, and both parents had refused to have anything to do with her. She smiled bitterly. All that was about to change. She would make Mabel and her annoying friend Bella, who acted as if she was better than everyone else, pay. She took a shower, changed into a t-shirt and slacks, then made a call.

"Hey, honey," she said.

"What do you want?" Dr. Jerry Mills demanded.

"Easy honey,"

"Don't call me that!"

"Relax; I wanted to see how you are."

"I've told you not to call me! And I mean it."

"You know that's impossible, Jerry; we share something special."

"What do you want? Haven't I given you enough money? We had a deal."

"It's not about money, Jerry; let's meet on Wednesday; we have a lot to talk about."

"What are you talking about? We spoke yesterday; what more is there to say?"

"A lot, honey."

"Wait a minute, where are you? Haven't you gone back to Motown?"

"Nope. I'm with my dear sister."

"Who ? Mabel? Are you in Newtown? But you said you were heading back!"

"I lied," she laughed.

"What game are you playing, you devil?" 

"Mind your tongue, Dr. Mitchell," her voice hardened. "Wednesday, 10 a.m. the Rest Place Hotel. Don't keep me waiting."

"Listen, you b—"

She hung up, laughing. 

"Sorry, you had to see that," Kingsley apologized as they drove to the cinema.

"Is that really your mom's sister?"

"Her half-sister. Her mom died when she was a baby, and her dad married again. The lady had two children, my uncle Tony and aunt Jean."

"Half siblings? That explains why they don't seem very close."

"Not quite. Mom is very close to Uncle Tony, but Aunt Jean is a different story. You see, my granddad is a pastor, and all his children had to live up to a certain expectation. My mom did; she completed college, started a successful business, got married, and had a family, just like my uncle Tony. But aunt Jean dropped out of high school, got in trouble with the law a few times, and had a child out of wedlock, her son Paul."

"Your granddad must have been disappointed."

"Very, he literally disowned her, while mom is his favorite."

"So she's kind of jealous of your mom?"

"Yeah. They haven't seen each other in years; she lives in Motown. I'm surprised she showed up now."

"She came in yesterday." 

"This morning, according to her," he said, seeing Rachel frown. "Don't let her bother you, babe; she's a little bit mischievous but harmless. Besides, there's no way mom will let her stay more than an hour."

She smiled. Jean had looked very familiar, and her brain had been working hard trying to recall where she'd seen her. She came up empty and decided to forget about it and enjoy her time with Kingsley.

Mabel barged into her husband's office.

"What was that?" She demanded furiously. "How could you agree for her to stay?"

"Relax, honey; she is here for an interview."

"So?"

"So you should be happy she's trying to get a decent job and make her life better."

Mabel snorted. "She's lying. I know she is. She's here for mischief; I'm sure of that."

"Come on, honey, she's your sister."

"Yes, my sister, so I know her well, and I'm telling you she is up to no good. She should go to a hotel. I can't believe you allowed her to stay."

"Calm down; look, after a week I'll make sure she leaves, OK?"

"I don't like this. I know Jean very well; she's jealous and hateful. All she does is make trouble."

James stood up and hugged her.

"Relax. One week, and she'd been out. I promise."

"OK." She agreed reluctantly.

But she knew without a doubt that Jean was there to turn their lives upside down.

There was a knock on Franca's office door.

"What?" She demanded.

A worker came in. "Excuse me, Ms. Mills, the oven is..."

"I don't want to hear. Whatever it is, sort it out and leave me alone."

"But Ms. Mills—"

"I said leave me alone!" She shouted.

He withdrew. Franca dialed Melman again. She'd been calling him for days, but he wasn't taking her calls.

Have I been played? Has he taken my money and run away?

She shook her head. That was impossible. He'd worked for her dad in the past, and he had nothing but praise for him.

Why, then, is the fool not answering his phone?

She tried again.

He answered, "Hello, Melman is speaking." 

"For Pete's sake, where have you been?" Franca exploded. "Why haven't you been picking up my call? I've called nearly a hundred times! I'm not paying you to ignore me!"

"You're paying me to investigate," Melman said dryly. "And that is what I'm doing."

"I've been calling you for days, yet you haven't—"

"I've been working. I told you if I had information, I'd call. I expected you to wait for my call instead of blowing up my phone with calls."

"Never mind that!" She snapped. "Have you found Gina's husband? What did he say? How long has she been married?"

"No, I have not."

"Then what have you found?"

"I'm in Littletown—"

"What the hell are you doing there? You're supposed to be in Silvertown!"

"Please don't tell me how to do my job!" He snapped.

She swallowed her anger. "Well, what do you have for me?"

"I've located the foster home Gina grew up in. From what I've discovered, every information about Gina Amilo is true except that—"

"What!" Franca shrieked. "What do you mean, true? She is lying! I know she is. She's a bigamist! Why haven't you found that out? Are you that incompetent? Is this what I'm paying for? I want my money back. Now!"

"Are you done? Good. Now I can continue. As I was saying before, every piece of information about Gina Amilo is correct. Her parents died when she was fourteen, and she was put into foster care except," he paused dramatically. "Gina Amilo is dead."