"Is that where you want to leave him, in the floor?"

"Why not? That's where he fell."

"Okay, well, I'm going to throw the covers back on the bed, as though he had just gotten up out of bed, when he dropped dead." Miranda preferred not to look at the dead man, but she couldn't help taking one last look.

"Is there anything you can do about that?"

"No, that's the effect of the v.i.a.g.r.a. Probably not a bad way to go to the next life."

"I'm not laughing, Travis."

"What about this?" He held up the sealed letter addressed 'To Belinda'. "Want to see what it says?"

"No, I don't want to disrupt anything that I don't have to. That's a sealed letter."

"So you aren't even curious as to what it says?"

"Not right now. I just want to get out of here!"

"If everything is in order, then we can leave."

"No complaint from me."

Miranda's decision to not read the letter to Belinda, would turn out to be the most unfortunate mistake of this whole mess. Like a s...o...b..ll rolling downhill, things could only get worse.

They left the house, leaving the door unlocked. Miranda's car was still running. She turned to Travis as he pulled his truck keys out of his pocket.

"Travis, thank you for coming out here. You really saved my life."

"I'm sure you would have gotten loose on your own somehow, but I was glad to help."

"I owe you one."

"You sure do!"

"Would you like to come over to my house? It's just next door. You've never seen my new house, have you?"

"No I haven't."

"Follow me over there and I'll put on a pot of coffee."

"Sorry, but it's after one, and I really need to get home. I'll take a rain check on that iced coffee though."

"That's right, you can't drink it hot. I remember now. Sure, come over some night when you get off work and we'll talk."

"I might do that some time, but right now I have to get home."

"Can I have a hug before you go?"

"You probably need one don't you?"

"You have no idea!" She burst into tears as she fell into his arms, grasping him tightly. "I make such a mess of everything I try to do!" she sobbed. "Being rich hasn't helped me any in that regard!"

"I'm sure things will look better tomorrow. Go home and get some sleep in your own bed, and try to forget this ever happened."

"I'll try. Can I call you at work in a couple days, if I need someone to talk to?"

"Sure, just call about 10:30 p.m., to catch me before I leave."

"Thanks, I'll do that." She gave him one last squeeze and went to her car. He got in his truck and followed her out the driveway. She turned back toward Kellerman store, went only a short distance, then turned into her driveway, as Travis went on home.

It was 2 a.m. when he got home. Janice was in bed asleep with a book open on her chest. She had tried to wait up for him, but couldn't. He closed the book and placed it on the nightstand, then turned out the lamp and slipped into bed beside her without her waking up.

She stirred, changed positions and mumbled, "Must have been something really bad, for you to work over."

"Bad was not the word for it."

"What happened?"

"I'd rather forget it even happened."

"Okay. I've got some news for you, though, concerning Jenny."

"Good or bad?"

"It depends on how you take it."

"Go ahead, give it to me!"

"Brace yourself. Jenny has gone back to Rodney. She says she loves him, and that's all that matters. Are you angry?"

"No, I'm not. In fact, I'm more relieved than anything. It defuses the situation. If the mess had continued, I was probably going to find a solution my way!"

"I know."

"So that's her decision? Okay, she is going to have to live with it."

"I know, and that's what I told her."

"She understands the ramifications of her decision?"

"She says she does, but who knows, with her? She said she would rather go back to him, than see you kill him."

He looked at her narrowly.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Travis! I know you, and your solution to things. I told Jenny that if she really loved Rodney, she had better go back to him, because if she didn't, you were going to kill him!"

"You actually told her that?"

"Yes I did. Was I wrong in doing it?"

"Well, you probably made her feel like she had to go back to him, instead of her wanting to."

"Maybe, but it will work itself out. At any rate, it's her problem. I don't need you going to jail for murder!"

They both lay awake for some time in the dark, before finally going to sleep. Raising children was an ordeal that they hoped they could survive.

3.

The next morning, Travis was up early, making last minute arrangements for his and Drew's trip to England. It would be easier to leave, now that Jenny's situation had changed. The trip was more than just a vacation, it was the fulfillment of his promised gift to his oldest son. He had promised all his five children that he would take them somewhere overseas before they graduated from High School. Not all of them together as a family, but a personalized trip for each of them, taking them wherever they wanted to go. He had kept that promise to Jenny, his oldest, in 1996, by taking her to her to the rain forest in Peru. The next year, in 1997, he took his wife, Janice to Greece, because he sensed that she was a little jealous that he was taking the kids somewhere nice, but not her. He had originally planned the trip for Drew, but then Drew said he wanted to go to a country where they spoke English. So he went ahead with the trip to Greece, and took Janice instead of Drew. Now, in 1998, he was taking Drew to his choice of destination, which was England. He had learned that the English Department at the University of Central Alabama was sponsoring this seven day trip to London, and Southern England, to give their Literature majors a taste of Shakespeare's homeland. Of course, this trip, like most other school trips, was open to more than just college students. Anyone could go, if they had a pa.s.sport, and $1,275. So he signed up Drew and himself, and as a surprise, Travis' mother said she also wanted to go, so all three of them signed up.

Going to England had another benefit as well. In addition to being a coal miner, Travis was an aspiring fiction writer. Two years earlier, his first attempt at getting his works published had resulted in a Canadian publisher giving him a contract on 'The Relic', and it had taken a year and a half of editing to get the ma.n.u.script to the finished product. In the meantime, Travis had concocted an elaborate scheme to shamelessly promote his soon-to-be-released book. He had submitted a bogus story to a well known tabloid, 'Whisperings' Magazine, which they had published without questioning its validity. The result was, just as his book was due to be released by his publisher, there was already a flood of orders for his book from all over the country. The timing was perfect! 'The Relic', by Travis Lee, was destined to be an instant best-seller, propelling him to fame and fortune as an up-and-coming Southern fiction writer. And with six other novels already written and awaiting publication, the reading public was about to be saturated with a flood of literary output, not seen since the emergence of Stephen King!

But there was a small problem.

The rocket of literary fame was scrubbed on the launching pad.

(Houston, we have a problem.) Maple Leaf Publications had gone belly-up. Their announcement that they had filed for bankruptcy, came just two days after his book's release date, according to the Maple Leaf Publications web site. What this meant to the authors who had been published by Maple Leaf, was that they could no longer get copies of their books.

For Travis, this was devastating. It couldn't have come at a worst time. He had 17,000 orders for his book, and that was just the requests for autographed copies he received at home through the mail. He had no idea how many tens of thousands of orders for his book had been sent directly to Maple Leaf, up in Canada. His efforts to reach the founder of Maple Leaf were unsuccessful, so he bought a plane ticket, got a leave of absence from the mine, and went to Edmonton, to see what he could work out.

What he learned when he got there was troubling. It seemed that Maple Leaf Publications was not much more than an elaborate scheme to defraud hundreds of aspiring writers like himself, into paying a big set-up fees, and getting little back in return. But Travis had not been asked to pay a set-up fee. So what was the deal with his book? The answer he dug up made him even more angry.

It seemed that when Maple Leaf got a ma.n.u.script that had real merit, they had another use for it. Under an obscure clause in the contract, (which Travis had signed without fully understanding it, by the way), the founder of Maple Leaf could, if the company went bankrupt, sell off individual t.i.tles to other publishers. And neither Maple Leaf, nor the publisher they sold the t.i.tles to, was under any obligation to pa.s.s the resulting royalties on to the Author. In Travis' case, 'The Relic' was sold to a British publisher, called Jester Books, who immediately began printing the book and selling it both in England, and even to book stores back in the United States. And because of the article in 'Whisperings' Magazine, which Travis was responsible for, 'The Relic' had been propelled onto the British Best-Seller's List, at either third or fourth place all summer long. And now it was starting to climb up the Best-Seller's List in the United States as well.

Travis was no genius, but he didn't have to be, to realize that if his book became a Best-Seller, even if he got no royalties from it, it would make his subsequent novels sell more easily because of the name recognition. That was the name of this game, name recognition. If Stephen King cranked out a book that was pure c.r.a.p, it would still be a best-seller, just because of the name on the cover. So if he could get the name 'Travis Lee' out there, and synonymous with a best seller, it sure couldn't hurt, especially if he followed it with another great work of fiction, put out by a reputable publisher.

So it was a happy coincidence that they had already signed up for a trip to England late that summer, when Travis found out that his new publisher was located in London as well. He had contacted Jester Books, and they were delighted to learn that he was already coming to England, and they were only too glad to arrange for him to do a few book signings for them while he was there. It would help them, by selling more books, and help himself, by getting his name out there, and building on an already growing reputation as a writer.

But there was still a lot to do, a lot of details to work out. Janice came into his study with a box of mail, mostly fan letters, and requests for more autographed copies of his book. "We got another 1,500 books yesterday from Canada."

"Good!"

"Travis, you never have told me where these books are coming from."

"That's because you don't need to know, not at this time."

"'Pirate Publications'? 'Printed on the High Seas, by Pirate Publications?' What is all that about?"

"I told you, the less you know, the better. Just be thankful that they keep showing up here!"

"I'm not sure I want to know. But look at this e-mail I got yesterday from Jester Books." She handed him a print-out, and he looked it over.

"Hmm, so they have finally seen a copy from 'Pirate Publications'. I was hoping that it would stay under their radar a little longer."

"So tell me about it. Where are these books coming from?"

"Canada."

"I know that! I can read the shipping labels. You know what I mean!"

"Okay, it's a small press in Edmonton, called Iota Press. They were one of the three presses that were doing the actual printing for Maple Leaf, and Maple Leaf went bankrupt owing them a ton of money. When I visited them, looking for left over copies of 'The Relic', they showed me that they had 2,000 copies of my book. But they had no covers for them, because the color covers were made by another printer. So I struck a deal with them. I hastily designed this black and white cover, which you see now, and because it was black and white, they could produce it themselves. And because they still had the digital text of 'The Relic' in their system, they could produce more copies very cheaply. I persuaded them to keep printing them, 1,500 copies per run, so they could recover some of their losses, and so we could get copies of our book."

"Is that legal to do? I mean, since Jester Books now has the contract?"

"No, it's not. That's why we came up with the bogus name, 'Pirate Publications', because they are pirated copies. And that is why you won't find the name Iota Press anywhere on the book. It's a shame that I had to make pirated copies of my own book, just to feed the demand for it. But I couldn't let it die!"

"Hey, I understand. I'm glad you did it. But what will Jester Books do if they find out where they are coming from?"

"They will sue me, and Iota Press, for knowingly producing the pirated copies. According to this e-mail, they have no idea where they are coming from, but have investigators checking into it. They are asking if I know anything about it. Of course, I will act like I am shocked to hear about it. That's why they can't find out that I am behind it. I will be sued for producing my own book! If you get any more e-mails like this from Jester Books, don't reply, but let me know, and I'll reply to them."

"In other words, you will lie to them?"

"I have to protect our interests. We need to a.s.sert that we have no idea where these copies are coming from. Put one of those copies in my suitcase. I'll show it to Jester, and ask them where the copies are coming from, as though I'm as baffled as they are."

"Travis, you are so bad!"

"I do what I have to do. It's important that you not tell anyone, and I mean anyone, where these books are coming from. Got it?"

"Yes, I've got it."

"Is Drew getting his stuff together for this trip?"

"Are you kidding? He's been packed and ready to go all summer! I have never seen him so ready to go somewhere!"

"I'm glad his football coach agreed to not discipline him for missing the first week of fall football practice."

"He doesn't have much choice. Drew is a senior, and they only have 17 players on the team. He won't miss out on much. Oh, I just remembered. Your mother wants you to stop by their house before you go to work today. She has a million questions about what she should take with her to England. She has been asking me, but I don't know what the weather will be like there!"

"Okay, I'll stop and see her on my way to work."

"Don't forget. I have a doctor's appointment at ten. I probably won't be back by the time you go to work, so get your work clothes out of the dryer before you leave."

"I'll do it." Travis sighed. There was so much to do before they left for England! And his schedule in England wasn't much better, what with touring the sites during the day, and having to show up for book signings almost every night. He wouldn't be able to rest until he got back home.

As Travis went to work that day, he had a lot on his mind besides the up-coming trip to England. He was glad that the mess with Jenny seemed to be over, though he hated that she had made the decision she had, to go back to Rodney. He knew that her dead-beat husband was going to be nothing but trouble in the future, and he might still have to deal with him, but for now at least, things were going to settle down.

He couldn't help thinking about the strange incident with Miranda the night before, and he wondered what she had decided to do about the Judge, after she had time to rationally think about it. The only rational thing to do, would be to call the police and report it, but he strongly suspected that she would not do the rational thing.

But it was the problems with Jenny that were brought back to mind, as he got to work. A few days earlier he had mentioned the problems he was having to some of his closest friends at the mine, and as friends will do, they all try to help in any way they can. Today as he got out of his truck, Bird walked up beside him.