The Homewrecker Series ™

Brenda Chiatovich:
–
I created the concept of The Homewrecker series. A girl who has lived such a privileged life she does not even realize she is privileged. Now she must adjust to a world she does not understand and she has to face herself in the process.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez:
–
Hello. I am Brenda’s daughter. When my grand pop and my mom were deciding on a name for LC’s arch nemesis they chose one of my nicknames, Peaches.
–
In the second novel I appear again, this time as Sara, another of my nicknames.
–
Sara is a fun character based loosely on my personality. Please, it is NOT biographical in any way. This is, after all, a work of fiction.

Aunt Emerald was her daring and boisterous self. As her mother pointed out Aunt Emerald was not a lady. LC’s mother, Amethyst seemed to be the only sister strongly imbued with awareness of forever being A Lady.

LC smiled. “Hi, Auntie Em.” LC had been calling her that since The Wizard of Oz had first been read to her as a little girl.

Auntie Em’s dark hair had one bright, pale green streak in it. She believed the answers to all of women’s problems lay somewhere in a beauty salon. She had an entire session planed out that she knew would make her niece feel better about everything. She set out to do LC’s hair and make up, then move on to manicures and pedicures, and she brought Rocky. The little golden chihuahua jumped out of Emerald’s bright green purse with the enthusiasm only dogs can generate towards those they love. Once again LC noted that Aunt Emerald was as far removed for LCs mother, Amethyst, as a woman could get and still be a sister.

Rocky was so happy to see LC he wagged his tail so hard it literally launched his hind feet up off the ground. He managed to say hello so hard with his tiny dog body that he took up the entire hospital bed to do it. When LC reached for him he went into such hysterics of motion she could not even pet him effectively.

“You have to see the trick I taught him.” Beamed Auntie Em proudly.

Dutifully, like she had as a little girl, when Auntie Em was about to do something new and interesting, LC sat still with her arms folded, waiting expectantly.

Aunt Emerald set a cloth bag down, deliberately pointing the opening away from Rocky.

Looking at LC she winked.

“TREAT.” She announced.

Rocky stopped his gyrations, one foot raised, looking at Emerald.

“You do it,” smiled her aunt. “Watch.”

“Treat!” announced LC, unsure what would happen next.

Rocky looked at LC. Cocked his head.

“Treat.” She repeated.

Rocky looked all around. He moved part of the folded blanket with his nose. He sniffed near her feet. When he came to the cloth bag he examined it thoroughly. Discovering the opening he went inside. Soon he was dragging out a bag of his favorite doggy treats and taking them to LC to open for him.

“How long did it take you to teach him that?”

“Not long. You ready to look and feel like a woman who can take on the world again?”

© 2016, All Rights Reserved

Brenda Chiatovich:
–
I created the concept of The Homewrecker series. A girl who has lived such a privileged life she does not even realize she is privileged. Now she must adjust to a world she does not understand and she has to face herself in the process.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez:
–
Hello. I am Brenda’s daughter. When my grand pop and my mom were deciding on a name for LC’s arch nemesis they chose one of my nicknames, Peaches.
–
In the second novel I appear again, this time as Sara, another of my nicknames.
–
Sara is a fun character based loosely on my personality. Please, it is NOT biographical in any way. This is, after all, a work of fiction.

LC lay in the hospital bed feeling miserable. Her experiences the past few days left her physically exhausted. She had never put forth so much effort for so long with so little food or rest. She was mentally tired. She had never before met a problem that did not have a predefined answer. School work always had one answer, or at worst, one best answer. Social problems, for a girl of her upbringing, always had the solution, “A lady always acts like a lady.” She had never in her life met, let alone dealt with, a no win situation.

She was emotionally drained. She had never before dealt with situations where she had to make snap judgements, based not on right or wrong, not on an answer someone could give her, but based solely on her own character and identity: Who she really was. Nor had she ever dealt with a situation where the answer did not depend on “What a Lady would do” or “What is right or wrong” but instead the answer relied solely on “How do I survive?” Or worse, “Who am I?” She suddenly had to face a fact about herself. Perhaps about the human condition itself. When it came to survival what was right or wrong, what was ladylike or not, had no meaning for her. She had to face the fact that when it came to survival she would do whatever it took to stay alive another day.

For a woman who had been raised in a protected environment her entire life this was a hard fact about herself to face.

But it was true and she no longer knew how to feel about herself. In truth, who she really was had never come into question or been an issue before in her life. In the past every major issue had been resolved by how you present yourself. You are a Lady. You act like one.

How does a Lady act?

Now it was other questions she had to answer. Should she feel proud of herself that she had found whatever resources she needed to survive, or ashamed of herself that she realized she could, and would, resort to any means necessary when danger threatened?

No. It wasn’t that simple either. When faced with three women she did not know pitted against each other in a jail cell she had chosen without any knowledge of what would be the winning choice. She had never been taught a protocol for what a Lady would do in jail. Ladies did not go to jail.

She had to choose based on who she was.

So who was she?

For the minute LC put that question aside. Right now her body was beaten, banged, sore, pricked, and gouged from her escape from the cabin last night. Escaping, of all things, from a murderer named Peaches. How on earth does one feel endangered from a five foot six inch skinny girl barely seventeen years old named, of all things, Peaches? Peaches Pardot. Yet she had been. So much so that she had managed to propel herself in a mad roll through the woods to escape while tied hand and foot. Her wrists and ankles still had ugly bruised rope burns.

A doctor, about thirty years old, curly brown hair and clever brown eyes, entered the room. He looked at her and smiled. She found herself smiling back, somewhat embarrassed to be seen by a good looking man in such disreputable condition. Any man. Doctor or not.

He paused and looked at his charts. “I guess I’m not your doctor,” he said to his clipboard. “So you must be the woman I have heard so much about.”

It seemed as though everyone had heard about her, but at least she wasn’t a fugitive wanted for murder any more. She was a victim in a hospital. Or was she?

“I guess.” She replied.

“Probably just as well,” he nodded. “I am sure I would be no match for your charms.”

“I don’t feel charming.”

“You will. I heard your aunt talking in the hallway. She was saying the first step in recovery for any woman is a beauty treatment. I’m sure you will be your most fetching self in an hour.” His smile was seductive and infectious. LC felt herself respond in kind.

“If you wish to start a full-time profession I have a friend who could benefit from the services of an able homewrecker.” His mouth smiled, but his eyes betrayed a seriousness whose humor was sardonic, not playful.

Her mind went over what Violet had said. Violet, who had been tossed in jail for beating up a woman she claimed to have been defending. Violet, a boxer by trade. “I’m a professional. I don’t fight unless there is a purse on the table. If I don’t get paid I don’t fight.” Then her mind flashed forward to Tulkhorn, the highest priced, most exclusive lawyer in the state. “I get paid well for what I do. I do what I am paid to for. What I am not paid for I do not do.” For a quick second she wondered what he might know she did not, then she put the thought away.

“I’ll let you know if I do. But if I were to, I would have to have professional standards, and charge a professional wage. I have no idea what a professional homewrecker would charge.” She was trying to be playful, but she knew a part of her, a new part that was just a little scary, was sizing up the situation for survival potential.

He was serious. The brown of his eyes evaluating. His mouth was still smiling, as though the smile itself had been forgotten, left on his mouth like a hat on a rack left in a restaurant after the patron has left the building. “When I hired a private detective he charged me one hundred dollars an hour plus expenses.”

LC whistled.

“Ah. Here is your aunt,” he said as Emerald pushed through the door. He brushed past her as he went out the door and to the next patient without further comment.

© 2016, All Rights Reserved 

Brenda Chiatovich:
–
I created the concept of The Homewrecker series. A girl who has lived such a privileged life she does not even realize she is privileged. Now she must adjust to a world she does not understand and she has to face herself in the process.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez:
–
Hello. I am Brenda’s daughter. When my grand pop and my mom were deciding on a name for LC’s arch nemesis they chose one of my nicknames, Peaches.
–
In the second novel I appear again, this time as Sara, another of my nicknames.
–
Sara is a fun character based loosely on my personality. Please, it is NOT biographical in any way. This is, after all, a work of fiction.

Chapter 2

Minor Crimes

Peaches felt proud of herself. She was sure she had planned the perfect little escapade. A minor job as it were. After all if she were to commit to a life of villainy it would not hurt to get in some training doing lessor, if equally important, activities.

Today’s venture would be very important to her future. She studied her surroundings.

The lawn in the back of the house was simple. A wide expanse of golf trimmed grass with umbrella shaded tables. It was designed to give an aura of elegant leisure. It was also deserted, which is what she expected. It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week. Not a time when guests would be gathered. The gardener, except for a weekly mowing, spent the bulk of his time in the front yard, caring for the lavish and impressive first impression a guest would have of the manor.

So far so good.

The hedge she snuck through was a Portuguese Laurel. Pretty and effective, except for one spot Peaches had been using to sneak through since she was a little girl.

She had a story cooked up in case she were caught. She would say she wanted Uncle Norton’s advice on selecting an attorney for a fraternity joke that had gone horribly wrong. Of course Uncle Norton wasn’t a real uncle, not that it would have made any difference to her plans. What she intended to do today was such a minor crime compared to what she had been doing. Compared to what she was going to do. Nor did she need his opinion on what lawyer to select. She knew what lawyer he would select and she already had an appointment with him this afternoon. It would work. If she got caught she would listen too, and take, Uncle Norton’s advice.

Keep it simple and sexy. Sexy was important.

Peaches did not like working under a time schedule, but right now there were a lot of things needed to be done and not much time to do them. Worse she had no clue how much time was left to her. She either was, or soon would be, wanted for murder. She did not know if the police were after her officially or not. Nothing had come across the car radio. On the other hand she had not gone home. No telling what news awaited her there.

And all because of that damned interfering nanny, LC. Someday, when the time was right, Peaches was going to kill that. Nice and slow and painful. Peaches would watch and enjoy every minute of it too. Maybe she would even make a video of it so she could watch it over and over again. How any one person could wreck too much havoc in Peaches life was amazing. And a nobody at that. A nanny of all things. A woman whose step-father worked for people like Peaches mother. A man who worked so far down the ladder that if he had worked for her she wouldn’t even know his name.

But enough of that. She brought her mind back to the business at hand.

One thing was for certain. If a cop knew who she was he would take her in for questioning. An event she did not want to have happen until specific things were in place.

Like checking out Uncle Norton’s wall safe.

If you think you might need to run from your old life, you better figure out a way to get a lot of money into your new life. She had evidence she needed to get rid of. Things that would link her to crimes the cops hadn’t suspected yet. She should have gotten rid of it immediately. First. But no time would be better than right now to raid Uncle Norton’s safe.

When she was a little girl she would never have guessed that her happy little trips to the wonderful Uncle Norton manor were cleverly disguised “business” trips of an unsavory kind. Nor would she have believed that her presence was part of the cover. Little girls do not believe mommy and daddy can be bad or evil. Until she saw the evidence Peter Johnson had obtained against both her mother and father she would not have believed it today. Her mother was an embezzler and both her mother and father had been selling company secrets to a broker. That broker was Uncle Norton.

And who knew how many brothers and sisters she might have from her father the serial fiance who was perpetually engaged to one woman after another. Then just before the wedding date he would disappear never to be seen again.

The other “Uncle” Uncle Pete had known everything about both her parents and had used the information to blackmail her father. Peaches might have let that go except for one small item on the agenda. Her five hundred thousand dollar college fund. The bastard wanted it. Worse, her parents were going to give it too him. Now he could rot in hell. And it was not in her plans to rot along with him.

She somehow knew whenever her mother and father went to Uncle Norton’s at some time during every visit he would venture back into a room and go to his safe. When he returned he always had presents for “the wonderful couple.” He gave her presents too. But they never came from the safe. They were never envelopes full of hot cash.

It was just child’s play that she hid and watched him. It was just a wonderful trick of her mind that she could still remember the combination to this day. But she could remember anything if she wanted too. If only the combination were the same. If he changed it over the years she was out of luck. But why should he change it? No one knew where he went to get the cash. No one knew where the safe was hidden. He always went down the hall and never into the same room twice.

The house itself was huge, and it was an elaborate maze. Designed in such a way Uncle Norton could start out anywhere in the house and quickly and easily wind up in the cash room without anyone knowing where he had gone or how he had gotten there.

Only Peaches knew. And only because she had been a sweet little girl no one noticed. She liked to explore and she liked to hide. At five it was just a fun game. As a teenaged murderer it could still be a lot of fun.

She walked right through the back of the house, past the kitchen where she could hear cleaning noises, and to the room where the safe was concealed. She brought some gloves. It didn’t matter if her fingerprints were all over the house. She could explain that. She was a regular visitor. What she could not explain would be her fingerprints inside the safe. Quickly she slipped them on. She slid the picture aside, opened the safe, looked inside. There were envelopes, of the kind he had given her mother and father, and a nondescript box. The envelopes were empty. She looked inside the box and almost passed out.

Her whole body shook as she emptied the box. Her fingers shook as she re-closed the safe. Her heart pounding, she almost ran out of the house.

© 2016, All Rights Reserved