Unsuspecting Culprit

Chapter One

Rayleigh Cartel. A woman of many characteristics. Always careful of who she speaks and intricately planning her trips across the globe so precisely that not a soul would find themselves in the midst of a place they didn't intend to be. Six months after the unapparent absence of her ex-husband, she finds herself buying a beautiful, quaint home in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. With the help of a friend she met in college, she bought the house at an extremely negotiable price.

Just outside of city limits and just the right size for one and a cat. When she first saw the home, she was in doubt. Worried her savings and insurance wouldn't cover it. Charlene, her realtor, shook her head with a little smile and said, "Don't worry about it, Ray. Everything's arranged if you decide you want the house." With a few last looks at the interior, her mind was set.

Now, six months after the divorce was finalized, all the papers to the house signed over, she starts her new life as a columnist for the local paper. The Journal Sentinel of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. A bit of a hot shot, huh? You could say that. Rayleigh now spends her time writing out her opinions and offering commentary to daily events, giving precise thoughts and deep detail in her responses.

Rayleigh sprawls out across the king sized bed set up inside her master bedroom along Egyptian cotton sheets and breathes a sigh of relief. Finally home after yet another day of listening to the complaints of her coworkers and the distracted orders of her boss. She buries her head into her pillow at the time that her cat, Sid, comes trotting up the left side of the bed to where she lay exhausted on the other end.

Rayleigh lifts her head to her loving cat. "Go away." Sid meows in response and begins to love on Rayleigh's left side, feeling the purr through her blouse, she sighs once again and rolls over to face her cat.

"What am I going to do with you?" she says. Sid looks at her as if to say "I'm not quite sure. But I'm sure you'll find something." Beautiful green eyes frame her cat's face, his whiskers as clear as the night sky in summer. On her right side you can see that a few are missing.

Sid was caught in the midst of a brawl down the street. Three cats left scratched up quite a bit and Sid left with a few whiskers torn off, blood strewn throughout his coat and his paw was injured. Unsure of what the cause was, Rayleigh brought him home. Worried and anxious as she bathed her wounded cat all while he clawed and nipped at her trying to scrub away the remains of the cats' blood.

Rayleigh lay for a while as she thought of what the weekend before her would hold. Damn, a hot bath sounds nice right about now, she thinks to herself thoughtfully. Glancing at her bed side table where her electronic clock sits blinking rapidly, she sees that it's roughly 7pm. Just enough time to bathe and work on her book later that night.

Scrambling from the bed to the hardwood floor, she leaves her cat to muse at her as she walks to the bathroom to start the water. She rummages through cabinets before landing on her prescribed sleeping pills on the top shelf, waiting patiently for her to take her recommended dose.

She ponders upon lifting it from its place on the glass shelf or just leaving it to wait until the upcoming night. It's only one night. Right? One night without a scheduled drug can't be so bad. She takes one last, long look and shuts the glass cabinet door. Her reflection stares back at her. Her eyes have sunken back as a light blue filling circles the bottom of her eyes.

Rayleigh's eyes never lacked any emotion. Her green, enchanting eyes had always been filled with feeling, with love, something of vibrancy. As a child her mother always warned that such happiness revealed a sense of vulnerability. But maybe it's only because she was always built up as high as a stone castle? With walls that began to ware away from pain and time as days passed slowly.

When Rayleigh grew into her teenage years with legs long and slender, practically made for a runner, she began her athletic life as a soccer player. Unfortunately, disaster struck her family in just a few months as the season began to fall away into summer. With one game left, Rayleigh played with every ounce of confidence she had. Scoring the last goal of the year, playing with complete and utter vigor. No other teammate could have played the way she had.

That morning, she saw something off about her mother. She was faint, her sentences running short. Yet she was as charming as any other day. She told Rayleigh she loved her like every other morning, and her daughter being a completely oblivious teenager like most are, waved her off and ran off to school. Just too excited for that night's game. By the time she reached the school's doors she'd long forgotten her mom's strange attitude.

She stayed after for the game so when her mom never showed up to the school when it started she became a bit paranoid. Had she made it home from work okay? Did she remember her daughter had a very important last game? She never missed a game. This was her first, and last. As the game droned on, Rayleigh forgot almost completely about her mother. Too entranced in passing the ball from player to player and then back across the length of the field as the other team stole the ball.

When the game finally came to a close, she packed up her things and thanked her Coach for the wonderful season before walking to the parking lot as usual after a game. She stood for a while, waiting patiently, worry building, for her mom to be there. She never came. But, her grandmother did. She hugged Rayleigh and told her of the news. Her mother's heart finally gave out after alas, one more heart attack.

For months she was plagued by her mother's death but eventually had to get on with her life. High school was difficult without her mother's guidance but her grandma was always there to lend her a hand in the field of teenage gossip and boys with no comprehension of a heart break.

Rayleigh finally looks away from her restless reflection and slips herself into the oval shaped tub for a few hours of relaxation. Bright Eyes plays softly in the other room and she finds herself slowly being swept away by the sweet melodies until her eyes shut completely.

After waking to the sound of Sid pawing at the tub, perhaps signaling for her to wake up, she throws a towel around her damp and wrinkled body to walk to her closet. The air surrounding her feels chilly, the sort of thing to allow goosebumps to arise on your arms and legs. She shutters, pulling the towel tightly around her thin frame.

Reaching across mounds of clothes, she finds the one pair of pants she feels comfortable in her own skin in. Old, worn out sweatpants she only wears when working on the book comes into play. Only capable of writing something worthy of a publisher to read when she's wearing them. Walking back to her desk in the foyer, she thinks back on the most recent news story.

A woman of roughly thirty stole a rather large amount of money from the bank. Nothing as scandalous as holding up the bank, but still as scandalous as receiving 25+ years in prison. What could be easier than slipping it right from under their fingertips? Falling through their anxious fingers just the way sand does and walking out with thousands of dollars.

When news of this story quickly spread throughout the town, her boss came blustering into her office, claiming that she needed to write a review of the event, keeping it short and specific, but still intriguing and attention snatching. Insane, isn't it? That woman must have been a genius. So stealthy in her acts of moving the money out slowly, almost unnoticeably. Guess the bank's holding a tight grip on security now. Fearful of another untrustworthy teller.

Opening up Word, her hands glide across the wooden desk, wearing away from extensive use. The touch of the wood gives Ray a sense of home, a feeling of comfort. She breathes in deeply, looking out her window directed into the outer edge of all the sycamores lining her front yard. It was beautiful, especially in autumn. Leaves fall delicately to the ground and she watches, distracted by the many different shades of orange and red. Hints of brown peek out at the edges of the leaves. With a swift click on her dash, she's thrown into the world she's created thus far. Forgetting about the rest of the world as her fingers slide all along the squared keyboard keys, her eyes zoom in on every character and every plot twist waiting to occur.