Beautiful Villain

I nod slowly.

“By who?”

“Finley, there are a lot of bad men in this town. Women, too, but mostly men. They’ll do anything to keep their secrets. Anything.”

“Even kill, apparently.”

“Even send an innocent man away.”

“I don’t know who you pissed off,” she says. “But they did everything they could to make you look like a huge villain, Neil. After you left it was like…well, it was like that was it. Everybody knew you were a bad guy. Everyone talked about how they never really knew you.”

So the smear campaign was a success.

Great.

“Tell me what they said.”

Maybe I don’t want to know, but part of me does. I haven’t read the headlines. I probably should have, but I didn’t see what good would come from it. My attorney was court-appointed and even though he did his best, he couldn’t give me all of the help I needed.

My case was flimsy at best. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and there was no real evidence. That’s why I got five years instead of life. The judge wanted to prove a point, but he couldn’t send away a man who didn’t have any blood on him, who didn’t have any reason for committing a crime.

“They said you killed Sammy because of who he was, because you were jealous.”

“They said I was jealous of the sheriff’s son?”

“Yes,” she nodded carefully.

“What else?”

“They said that you and Sammy were lovers.”

Not unbelievable. We were good friends, and it was an open secret that Sammy was gay.

“Anything else?”

“Too much to remember,” she says. “But when people find out you’re back, the rumors are going to start flying. Someone told me at work that you had come back to town.”

So someone knew I was released: probably Mr. Sheriff. Sammy’s dad had never been a fan of me, so it made sense he’d try to destroy any credibility I had before I would need it.

“I went into the woods because I was supposed to meet Sammy at the mill,” I finally tell her.

“Why?”

“He was angry. That was the place we always went when we wanted to be alone.”

“Were you lovers?”

“Nope. He liked Ted Albertson.”

“The mayor’s kid?”

“Yep.”

“He’s still around. He’s got a wife now.”

“I’m sure he does,” I say. “Bet his dad arranged that real quick.”

Finley pales a little, and I know I’m right.