Free No Ordinary Love by J.J. Murray Page A

been married, Sheena?”
    “I haven’t found the right man yet.”
    TRUE!
    “Have you ever been engaged, Sheena?”
    “ Yes,” Sheena said. “But I became disengaged just last week.”
    TRUE!
    “Oh, you poor, dear girl,” Mr. St. John said.
    Sheena’s eyes filled with tears. “It broke my heart into a million pieces.”
    LIE!
    A-ha! And now she wants his millions.
    “Did you or did he break off the engagement?” Mr. St. John asked. “I’m only asking to make sure that you didn’t break off an engagement solely to be on this show.”
    “He said we weren’t compatible,” Sheena said. “He broke it off, and I was devastated.”
    LIE!
    “So you’re here to mend your broken heart,” Mr. St. John said.
    “Oh yes, Vincent.”
    LIE!
    “How many times have you been engaged, Miss Wolfe?” Mr. St. John asked.
    “Three times,” Sheena said.
    LIE!
    “Three strikes and you’re out, right?” Sheena said. “I am so unlucky.”
    Mr. St. John opened a file. “Facial recognition software is very advanced, Miss Wolfe.” He held up some newspaper clippings. “The Clinch Valley Times from St. Paul, Virginia. The Jewell County Record from Superior, Nebraska. The Feather River Bulletin from Quincy, California. These are engagement announcements that have appeared in small town newspapers all over the United States. According to these clippings, you’ve been engaged sixteen different times to sixteen different men from sea to shining sea, from Winter Harbor, Maine, to Winterhaven, California.”
    Oh wow. She’s a serial, um, engagement-ist.
    “I’m sorry I lied about that, Vincent,” Sheena said. She fluttered her eyes. “I’m . . . kind of embarrassed. I mean, who gets engaged and disengaged sixteen times? I’ve been so unlucky with men.”
    LIE!
    “I hope I can change my luck with you, Vincent.”
    TRUE!
    “I would think it would be your fiancés who were unlucky, Miss Wolfe,” Mr. St. John said.
    “Thank you, Vincent,” Sheena said. “That means a lot to me.”
    “I wasn’t complimenting you, Miss Wolfe,” Mr. St. John said. “You see, we contacted all sixteen of your ex-fiancés.”
    Are they all there? Oh, that would be fantastic drama!
    “Unfortunately, they all declined the offer for us to fly them here to see you tonight,” Mr. St. John said.
    To avoid the national embarrassment for getting taken by her.
    “You see, Vincent?” Sheena said. “They couldn’t bear to face me after what they did to me.”
    Mr. St. John pulled out a stack of paper. “They might not be here, but your sixteen ex-fiancés did give us sworn affidavits.” He smiled. “Do you know the word these men used the most to describe you?”
    “Bitch,” Trina said.
    “I’ll give you a hint,” Mr. St. John said. “It begins with a B .”
    “Beautiful,” Sheena said.
    Is she for real?
    “Um, no, Miss Wolfe,” Mr. St. John said. “I think you know what they called you. They each also used the phrase ‘gold digger’ at least once. One man used that phrase twelve times. And according to these affidavits, these men bought you diamond rings with a collective value of over a quarter of a million dollars. Did you ever return any of the rings?”
    “No.”
    TRUE!
    I’ll bet she unloaded them on Cash for Gold and eBay. I would be too embarrassed to sell or melt down the pitiful ring Robert got me—that he put on my credit card.
    “These men also showered you with lavish gifts, money, cars, paid your bills, took you on exotic vacations, and wined and dined you to the tune of roughly two point nine million dollars,” Mr. St. John said.
    Where are these men? In which small towns? Tell me!
    “And then there’s the question of your boyfriend, Freddy,” Mr. St. John said.
    “I don’t have a boyfriend named Freddy,” Sheena said.
    TRUE!
    “That’s just one of his aliases, I suppose,” Mr. St. John said. “It seems ‘Freddy’ locates wealthy bachelors and stakes them out. Once he has a mark, he brings you in.