The Intern (wattys2014)

BONUS CHAPTER: "Going North" Sneak Peek: A Lacy Calvin Mystery

LINK : http://www.wattpad.com/30572989-going-north-lacy-calvin-series-going-north

This is up and completed!

DESCRIPTION

Lacy Calvin has been called a lot of names since she became famous: bitch, whore, train wreck, fame seeker, narcissist, and many others. But when she ends up leaving her cheating fiancé at the altar, suddenly the glitz and glamour of Hollywood feels empty and worthless. So Lacy decides to go to Washington State to become a professor and see if she can find happiness in a new, quieter life. Her fresh start experiences a few hiccups, such as a hateful but handsome coworker and some threats from her former stalker. When she finds a dead body in her trunk and is possibly framed for murder, she's left facing a whole new set of problems she never anticipated. It's up to Lacy to find her stalker once and for all, before someone else gets killed and she is thrown away in prison for good.

SNEAK PEEK******************

Of all the ways I had dreaded spending my thirtieth birthday, popping my trunk to find a half decayed, half frozen corpse was not one of them.

The day had started regularly, well, as regular as I can be. You see, I'm not your average professor at a small liberal arts college in the icy northwest. I am a former movie star, one who'd been infamous for making bad choices. Google the name "Lacy Calvin" and you'll see some interesting search suggestions. My top three favorites include: "Lacy Calvin dumped by Fiancé", "Lacy Calvin punches people", or of course, "Lacy Calvin train wreck." The last result will get you all the dirty details, including public instances of drunkenness and episodes of public crying, puking, or walking around without makeup. All of these people judge me, and they probably should, because I've made too many bad choices to even count them. But that was all supposed to change, which is why I left my life in glamorous and sunny California for the middle of nowhere. I wanted a new life, but it was hard to forget the old way of being.

So that day had begun with me searching my name and finding a depressing result. My ex-fiancé, whom I'd left at the altar seven months ago because he was a cheating jerk, was already dating again. For some reason, people felt the need to tweet about how much better off he was without me. Of course, Jerry's millions of fan girls didn't know he still drunk dialed me every night, and that I'd never regretted leaving him for a second. I was finding myself, and sure, now that I was thirty I did harbor a secret phobia of becoming a crazy old cat lady. But thirty was the new twenty, right? It didn't matter, because life if what it is. I am thirty. I am single. And I am stuck in the remote, frigid, winter wonderland that is Cheney, Washington. I didn't come here for the weather, I came here for a new job and a fresh start. My childhood friend Thea works as a secretary for the dean of the economics department at Eastern Washington University. So when their theatre department had seven professors retire or move in one year, a freak anomaly, she called me to see if I'd be interested in academia. Sure, I was a famous movie star, but I also had a Master's degree from NYU and years of Broadway experience under my belt. Thea asked, and I applied, and now I'm here in the middle of no man's land.

I had a lot of romantic notions about what Washington would be like. I pictured trees and squirrels which there are a lot of, and I imagined meeting new people who would love me. Most people here already decided that I was a vapid celebrity, and wrote me off as such before we ever even spoke. And even though teaching was in and of itself interesting, I was having a difficult time filling the role. So after a morning of teaching, I huffed it out to the single parking lot you can use without a permit, in search of reaching to the single Starbucks in this city. I hated driving in the snow. But what was the alternative, taking the bus? Even though there weren't any paparazzi this side of Oregon, one of Cheney's main attractive qualities, I still shuddered to think about how "Lacy Calvin, bus girl" would look as a tabloid headline. It'd probably end up in one of those obnoxious "celebrities are normal" columns people love so much. I despise those, because, of course celebrities are normal. We have bodily functions, and needs and whatever. But it's the fact that people want to read about you eating a banana, causing you to overanalyze every action and act abnormal.

By the time I reached my car, shuffling through the crowds of also freezing popsicle students, I was out of breath, frozen, and partly sweating. How I could sweat and shiver was beyond me, since I was used to tanning in after news years in Mexico. Not this year, I had to start over and try to find myself. Why couldn't I have resolved to find myself in the bottom of a margarita with a cabana boy? I got into my car and turned up the heat, but it hit me instantly. The smell washed over me, causing me to instantly gag, and an idea hit me. I pulled out my phone and dialed the number of a person who'd answer my question succinctly, but would do so begrudgingly. My office neighbor, Jason Wu, was eternally grumpy and seemed to make it his life mission to prove how superior he was to me. Once upon a time arrogance and boyish grins had an effect on me, but he was a bit too intelligent and cocky for my tastes. Mostly. I mean, if Jason ever smiled he might be handsome.

My thoughts were interrupted the his voice barking out a hello.

"Hey," I said. "It's Lacy. Quick question: is there any way a skunk could sneak into the backseat of a Lexus."

"No," he said. I could hear the sarcasm dripping in his tone. "But you could check underneath your car for...dead things or animals. I swear Lacy, I've been here for three years and nothing has ever happened to me like that."

"I think I'm cursed," I said. "Well, thanks for the advice. I need to go play the 'find the smell' game now. Whatever died in here is rancid, oh my God, I'm nauseous."

"I think it's bad karma for stealing my desk," Jason said. "Good luck with your smell."

"Yeah, like you care," I said.

"I do care," Jason chuckled. He'd be more believable if he wasn't laughing at me. Clearly he enjoyed my misery too much.

"Well, I'll see you in an hour. I can't believe I'm supposed to be in my office during office hours."

"That's how it works," Jason said. "I'll see you later. And Lacy..."

"Yes..."

"I'm sorry about your ex fiancé."

"Did you Google me Jason? Because that is borderline creepy."

"No, I just heard," he said. "Grocery store tabloids, Ryan Seacrest on the radio."

"Man, I thought Ryan liked me... Look, I've got to go, ok?" I hung up on Jason, throwing my car door open.

Reason #257 for hating Jerry Jensen: he gave my almost handsome office nemesis a reason to pity me.

While I thought about this, I looked under my car and in my backseat for some poor frozen raccoon body. Nothing. As I looked, a sensation dawned on me where the smell was coming from. I looked my trunk and took a deep breath, feeling nervous. How could something get into my trunk? Was this a prank? It wouldn't be the first time the fraternities had tried to haze new professors. I pulled my keys out and pushed the button on the remote to open the trunk, the stench covering my mind. I couldn't turn back though, I had to know. I pulled open the trunk and felt my insides twist at the sight.

A dead body was laying in my trunk, probably a man, with his throat slit and his body looking severely decayed and horrific. I turned around and promptly vomited in the icy parking lot, heaving up everything. It was one thing to see a prop corpse on a move, but a real life one was different. There are no words to describe the terror and disgust of seeing a mutilated dead body. When I was probably finished vomiting, I pulled out my cell phone to call 911. When I reached for it in the pocket where I leave my phone, there was a note in my purse. I opened the small scrap of paper and saw it had a message printed in red ink, Helvetia style font.

Always and Forever, Lacy. Always.

I guess some things followed me from California, and I instantly knew why someone had put a body in the trunk of my car. They wanted me to know they were here, and they were angry.