Page 33 of Trusted Instinct
Doli was rolling tape.
“Good afternoon, neighbors. I’m happy to be victoriously back on the stage with you. Why, just last year, a terrible person,terrible, got up here, pointed a finger, made wild accusations, and caused me and my good charity a world of disruption. I am happy to say that I will soon be vindicated.” His voice sounded like a preacher wanting a hallelujah to rise and punctuate his assertions.
It didn’t get even a whisper. The field was tense.
“I’m about to introduce you to–maybe reintroduce you to your new representative, who swept into his seat in the last special election to replace our beloved Representative Lambton after he resigned. Representative Braxton is a mighty good man.But before I bring him up, I was offered an opportunity to have a word with you about another scurrilous woman who has decided to cause my family harm. Here I am with my wife.” He turned and gestured, and a woman took a step forward, looking miserable. “That’s my wife, Sheelah, yes. And that’s my daughter, Brandy.” He gestured again, and the young woman took a step that landed her mostly hidden by her mother. He turned to the audience. “And you know what? From here, I can see that Miss Rochambeau and Miss Nez are here with their camera and microphone, again stirring up division, messing with our calm and honest community.” He glared in their direction. “No questions this time, ladies.”
Some in the crowd grew restless and shifted over, leaving the reporters alone and exposed.
A few began to boo.
“Now, now, none of that,” Morrison said. “I actually want to thank Washington News-Herald and World Reports for discovering my true name. Working under a pseudonym was hard. Being two people was psychologically draining. I did it because I’m a humble man, and I didn’t want any of the grace and gratitude to come to me. So I made up a persona. Now, I know you may have all read some heinous accusations. But the judge thought it was all kind of silly and let me out on a little bail. He didn’t see it necessary to stop our charity from doing its good work for the Marines. So that’s a blessing. Now, I am free from a jail cell, thanks to the generous donations that paid my bail, and thanks to the Washington News-Herald and World Reports for clearing the path to using my given name. Life is simpler and life is good.”
The crowd cheered.
“Like I said, I asked Mayor Early for a moment of your time at the beginning of his speech introducing your new representative. I think that going public is the best way that I canstay safe—me, my wife, and my daughter there.” He stretched out the flat of his hand to indicate the two women, shrinking into the shadows to prevent their public exposure.
“You all might hear in the next day or so that there are accusations that I have a second family.” He shook his head. “I don’t know about you, but keeping food on the table for one family, keeping a roof over one family’s head, is hard enough. A rich man might could get away with having two wives, I suppose. Someone of my mean circumstances could never even dream of such a thing.”
He let the crowd’s susurration blanket the field.
When silence fell, he said, “A woman is claiming that I’m her lawful husband and that I have given her two children. The man’s name on her wedding license is Weseley Price, one more ‘e’ in the given name Weseley than in my pseudonym. We’ve already determined that’s not my legal name. I am devoted to the family that stands here with me, showing their full support.” He raised his voice to a shout. “Thisotherwoman is a dangerous lunatic. She’s mentally ill. She has threatened me and my wife. Threatened my child.” Morrison shook his fist in the air as if to show that he would pummel anyone who meant to harm his family.
To Auralia, it seemed performative.
Rehearsed in the mirror.
Morrison dropped his voice to sound pained. “This woman’s gotten her family involved, and her brothers have threatened my life. They want me to—quote unquote—come clean publicly about my behaviors and to make arrangements to care for their sister and the children she claims are mine. A claim that is easily disproven by a DNA test that I fully expect to have done at a reputable company. This is a terrible scam. Do you know what I think, folks?” He pulled the crowd along with him by coloring his words with chummy, hurt, confidinghues. “Knowing I have my day in court on the horizon, these scammers, these swindlers, these frauds chose a low time in my life to blackmail me with made-up charges. They think I’ll pay to keep them quiet.” He held the mic between his two hands, as if in prayer, lowered his head slowly, and moved it back and forth. He raised his gaze and let it sweep across the dell. “What they want me to do is give them a huge sum that is derived from the HONOR charity, thereby depriving Marine veterans of the help that we provide them.”
Auralia’s mouth literally hung open.
What in the actual hell was going on here?
“That’s why I’m here publicly today, claiming my true family, claiming that the money I pay myself from my charitable work is barely enough to make ends meet. Just look at how my family is dressed.”
Auralia had been positioned at an angle, ready for Doli should she pan the camera over for commentary or a closure line. But now Auralia swiveled to face the stage squarely, focusing on what the two women were wearing.
It was too far a distance for Auralia to see the details. Since Doli was twisting her lens to zoom in and pick up that information, they could look at them later.
But from their position, Auralia thought that Sheelah looked like someone’s neighbor. She looked like someone you’d run into while running errands. She wore a loose-fitting dress made of a fabric that might be too lightweight for a day like today. It clung to her legs when the breeze picked up. It had better styling than a caftan, but it gave off muumuu vibes. Over that, she seemed to be wearing one of her husband’s hunting jackets.
In contrast, Morrison dressed in a well-tailored suit.
Auralia would bet good money that Mrs. Morrison had planned to listen to her husband talk from backstage, andsomehow, he had coerced them onto the stage for this humiliation.
The daughter was in that hard-to-tell age range. She could be anywhere from twenty onward. This was particularly true when her long hair was blowing in her face. She didn’t brush it away or tuck it behind her ear. It was as if the hair was her sanctuary, and that’s how she preferred it.
Dressed in loose sweatpants, an exercise cami, and a man’s hunting jacket. She, too, looked like she’d been dragged onto the stage against her will.
“Look at my wife’s hair. She cuts it herself. She gets her makeup from the dollar store. There’s nothing fine or pretty or high quality about either of them.” Morrison once again hung his head and shook it slowly back and forth.
Dead silence in the field, bated breath.
Morrison said, “Grifters are going to grift,” before raising his gaze to the audience. “I’m sorry this woman and her family are so deranged. I pray every night that they will find their way to healing. But beyond that, I have nothing to do with it. And I’ll have nothing to do with them. And as far as I’m concerned, I’d sue that woman into oblivion for defamation, but since she hasn’t got anything of value, if I sued her, I wouldn’t even be able to buy my wife a new dress.” He looked back at his wife, who was compressing herself into the smallest package she could, cowed under these circumstances.
“Now, listen here—”
Then the air snapped just over Auralia’s head, followed by the whizz of a bullet’s shockwave. A mad hornet racing by.
