Bang!
George was woken by the sound of the bedroom door flying open, and Callie rushing out, followed by Nate, phone in hand. She sat up as fast as she could, feeling the stiffness from a restless night on the pull-out, and pulling her legs towards her to make space for Callie to sit on the edge with the TV remote in hand. The screen lit up the otherwise gray pre-dawn living room. George squinted to allow her eyes time to adjust, as Callie pulled up the 24-hour news channel. The lower third read: “Breaking News: Mystery Writer Arrested After Wife’s Death.” A live camera feed showed the front of the MacDougal family home cordoned off with caution tape, and several police vehicles parked in front. “If you are just now joining us this morning. We’re showing you the home where just a few nights ago Vivian MacDougal, the wife of famed mystery writer Daniel MacDougal, was found dead. Just yesterday, the family released a statement about her sudden passing. Daniel MacDougal, best known for his mystery novels about the murders that occur in the town where the couple lives, Popham Harbor. For more information on this developing story we turn to Bethany Johnson here in the studio. Bethany, what can you tell us about Vivian MacDougal’s death and Daniel’s arrest this morning?”
The camera cut to another talking-head reporter in the studio hundreds of miles away from Popham. “Thanks, Lynn. He’s known for writing one of the most widely read detective series in the world. Billed as a ‘real-life Jessica Fletcher,’ Daniel MacDougal has written over forty books about murders that happen in his small Maine town and now he finds himself in the center of one.” She continued to drone on, mostly information readily available via an AI summary as the screen changed to showing B-roll of what looked like Sheriff Patel executing an arrest warrant. The footage showed only the two men in the early morning hours. None of the other people or caution tape from the live feed.
Nate finally looked up from his phone, responding to a question no one had asked. “My buddy was up with his kids and caught it on the TV.” Callie just sat transfixed as the B-roll footage looped.
“How’d they already know? Have a camera on location?” George picked up her phone only to see it awash in notifications. She couldn’t keep up with the message notifications that started with “This is so and so from such and such outlet reaching out for comment.”
Nate texted as he relayed information. “He says they’ve been saying it’s a TMZ thing. Just lucked into being on the scene when Sheriff Patel arrived. According to what he’s watched so far, Daniel was arrested probably thirty to forty-five minutes ago.”
“George,” Callie said, not turning around to look at her on the couch. Her eyes absorbing the screen in front of her. “What do we do now?”
George had no idea.
Callie slammed her hand on the edge of the pull-out in frustration. “But you work with lawyers all the time!”
“In the DA’s office, and when my case gets assigned to them. I don’t know anything about criminal law or defense attorneys.”
“Bev!” Nate shouted, like “eureka.” “Beverly Calloway, from the billboards all over town,” he explained, as if the room had never heard of her.
“We know who she is. Bev’s been a defense attorney in Popham Harbor for forever, but her track record on murder cases is spotty at best. Thanks to Mom and Dad the only cases she’d ever gotten dismissed were truly innocent people,” George said.
“Are you saying Dad isn’t?” Callie countered, turning to face her sister. The two women facing off on the couch.
“Regardless of what George thinks, or doesn’t think, right now we need a defense attorney,” Nate interjected. “The office did some complicated insurance claims for her yacht a while back and she said she owed me one. Gave me her cell number.” He’d swiped to call before he finished the sentence. Then he turned around to speak into the phone and pace. “Hi, Bev! Yeah, it’s Nate. Nate Wilson. Yeah, from Popham Harbor Insurance. No, it’s got nothing to do with your yacht. I’m glad. Great. Good to hear. It’s actually why I’m calling. My girlfriend, Callie, her dad was just arrested this morning and we need a defense attorney. Yeah, here in Popham Harbor. Yeah, that Callie MacDougal. I guess I could have led with that. Okay. Great. Anything you need from us? Okay. Okay. Okay. I’ll let them know and we’ll wait to hear from you.” He lowered the phone from his ear and looked up to see both women staring at him. “She says she’s got it handled and will call us with updates.”
They turned off the TV. At a certain point it was just retread and speculation. The next few hours spent on the phone with work, family, and friends. Their aunts and uncle all called. As did Nate’s parents. Texts from friends came in. All mixed in with calls from unknown numbers and texts from reporters that went unanswered. There was no new information to be given out, but promises that it would be given out. After what felt like an eternity, Bev called back. She asked them to meet at her office to go over next steps. Nate and Callie had both changed out of their pajamas, but George just threw on a coat over the borrowed sweats she wore. She followed their car as they made their way back to the historic district.