The phone call came at the worst possible time. Francis had just kissed and made up with Barbara after another one of their weekly blowups over the “little things”. This time it was over the fact that he kept leaving shredded Sugus candy wax wrappers all across the dresser. Pretty soon, a garish rainbow of colors would form in their room and another domestic storm would appear.
“I swear,” she yelled at him at one point, “you eat so much of those goddamned candies that it’s affected what little is left of your brain!”
But like every other argument, this one didn’t leave behind bitter memories and venom towards one another. As it was during their courtship period, the new installment of the Satra family didn’t allow such minor hassles boil over the rim and leave a stain. Not yet anyway.
So while they were exchanging the obligatory “I’m sorrys” and “I love yous”, the familiar loud hum of a Harley-Davidson motor broke through. Or rather, the Harley-Davidson shaped phone that Francis’s family bought for him as a wedding present. “But I’m not a motorcycle fan!” he protested when he first saw it out of the red and green trimmed box at the time.
“Francis, it’s Dean.”
“Oh, my God! To what do I owe this pleasure of having you call me after, what, a year?”
“It’s Ava. Francis, she’s dead. They found her body in the river last night.”
Go to Part 2