Free Splitsville.com by Tonya Kappes

chardonnay in hopes he will forget about the mess around him and stop questioning about my job. “Cheers,” I say.
    “To us.”
    Us. I like how that rolls off his tongue.
    We each take a sip, and then Bradley takes my glass and finds an empty space on the table. He turns toward me and leans in until his lips meet mine. Even though Erin is on my mind, this night is turning out perfect.

Seven

    Every morning for the past couple of days, I’ve been dedicated to reading the paper and turning on the news, searching for anything about Dabi Stone. There are still no leads, not motives, nothing. 
    “Now Joyce and Dan Stone are making a moving plea to seek justice for their daughter death.” I stop dead in my tracks, my hair brush dangling in my long hair. I take a long hard look at the television at Dabi’s parents who’s doing a press conference and pleading for any breaks in the case.
    My heart aches for Mrs. Stone and I want to reach through the TV and give her a big hug. Tears pool in my eyes and slip down my cheeks. There’s nothing natural about having to bury any child, much less your own. Our children are supposed to outlive their parents, not the other way around.
    The same frail woman who’s been splashed all over the newspapers glares at the camera. “Know we will hunt you down until we find you. Money is no object. Michael, where are you?” I jump because her eyes stare through the TV, piercing my soul.
    The crowd immediately begins shouting, “Who’s Michael?”
    My tears turn to acid. Crap! She blames Michael! My mind races. I yank the brush out of my hair, taking a patch of blonde hair with it. I listen to see if anything else is said about him while I focus the rest of my attention on the squatty bald man with his hand lightly rubbing down Dabi’s mom’s back. I can only conclude, by the process of elimination, it’s Dabi’s father.
    The way he consoles her doesn’t look as caring as a man whose daughter has been murdered. I guess I picture an angry man who wants revenge for his daughter. Not a man who is scanning the crowd with a slight smile on his face and a few nods.
    I shove the empty cereal boxes out of the way to find a pen and jot notes. Of course there’s not a scrap of blank paper to be found. I have to protect Splitsville.com. It’s my business. My baby. My livelihood. And if Bradley finds out about it, I might lose him.
    Dabi’s mother sobs and begins to gasp for air. She’s disheveled from head to toe. Her hair looks like it hasn’t been combed in days, her clothes look like they came off my floor. She’s bent over, and sort of broken. I look closer and notice her buttons aren’t even buttoned right. But underneath it, I know she means what she says about hunting down Dabi’s killer. Dabi’s father stands straight as an arrow, and much calmer than his wife. Too bad I can’t see his aura through the screen.
    I rush back to my office and quickly thumb through my filing cabinet, the one thing I do keep organized in my life.
    “Michael Schultz,” I say his name and wait for my body reaction. “Michael Schultz.”
    Hmm. . .when I generally repeat people’s name I get an instant vibe, but not this time. I wait for a sign, a shiver or a shake. Even a burp will do. I feel nothing.
    I dig in my files. The reputation of Splitsville.com, and my new relationship with Bradley, is on the line. With the wonderful technology of the internet, I Google whitepages.com and run a reverse search on his telephone number which gives me his street address. I scribble the address on his file and grab the newspaper clipping, and dash out the door.
    I check my watch once I get into the car. 6:50 AM. Way too early for me, but this way I’ll be able to get it over with. I’ll read his aura and hopefully clear my mind. He has to have a clear aura. He’d be the first one the police will suspect. Isn’t it always the boyfriend? And a disgruntled one at that.
    I can’t shake Mr. Stone’s TV