Black Diaries

40. The Best Birthday Gift Ever

The newscaster's words reverberated in my skull. We interrupt this broadcast for some shocking breaking news. This very morning, police discovered the body of a murder-victim in Hilly Springs, Alabama...

Hilly Springs, Alabama...

Hilly Springs, Alabama...

Hilly Springs? Like the hometown-of-yours-truly Hilly Springs? Open-mouthed I stared at the TV. Luckily, nobody noticed, because everybody else was now gazing at the television screen with rapt attention.

Holy shit! This can't be...

"The victim had been stabbed to death several months ago and was found—"

No, no, no!

"—deposited in a freezer."

No!

This couldn't happen now, when things were finally turning out so perfect! It couldn't be her!

But there probably aren't that many dead women stuffed into freezers in Hilly Springs, are there?

Frantically, I looked around to see if anybody had noticed my reaction. But they were still staring at the screen. Elliot's brow was furrowed and his knife had stopped halfway to the butter dish. His grandmother's eyes had widened in horror, Zack had stopped playing with his food, and even old Mr. Winslow had emerged from behind his paper to stare intently at the screen.

"As many of our viewers will remember, Hilly Springs is the very same town which, not too long ago, was shocked—"

Quickly, I made a grab for the remote. But Elliot had grabbed it already. To turn it off? Oh no. What did he do? He turned up the volume! That's the kind of treatment I get from the man I love with every fiber of my being! I'm about to be outed as a murderer on national television, and he turns up the volume! How can he possibly love me?

"—by the murderous deed of the black widow—"

Don't say my name! Please, don't say my name!

"—Cassy McKinney."

"Listen to that, Cassidy!" A grin slowly spread over Zack's face. "You've got the same first name as a serial killer! Isn't that funny?"

"Ha, ha, ha," I said.

"Who knows," he mused, giving me a brazen grin "maybe it's you they're talking about. Maybe you're just waiting for the right moment to murder us all in our beds."

I tried my best to grin back. "In regard to you, I think now would be the perfect moment."

"Shame on you, Zacharias Mahone!" Mrs. Winslow chided. "You shouldn't joke about such things!"

"Psht!" Elliot hissed.

"Several months ago," the newscaster was saying, "Cassy McKinney murdered her husband Matt Simmons by brutally stabbing him to death."

A shocked exclamation escaped old Mrs. Winslow, and I couldn't blame her. I was just as shocked. How could the media spread such malicious rumors? Brutally stabbing him to death? I had stabbed Matt quite gently! He probably didn't feel a thing!

"Now," the newscaster continued, "new evidence has come to light which suggests that these two horrendous crimes might be connected. We have to ask ourselves: is nobody save from the clutches of the murderous widow?"

I glared at the man. Well, you certainly won't be, if you go on like this!

"It appears that shortly before the horrific murder of Matt Simmons, Eve Peterson was helping Mr. Simmons with some small matters around the house that his wife was too busy to attend to. Their relationship was, as Miss Peterson's friends have insured us, perfectly innocent—"