TRUE BLUE

Up until Jane's car exploded, I had never really believed her theory. But when I was confronted with the smell of my best friend's burning flesh, I could no longer deny it. It was all true. But I'm getting ahead of myself. It all started a few years ago...

It started with another vehicle exploding. To whit, Kevin's Jeep. It blew up with the QB in it. At the time, it hadn't seemed suspicious at all. Kevin was well known for his stupidity, and it wasn't hard to believe his lack of maintenance was responsible for the explosion. Then, after he was buried, another tragedy happened. His mother overdosed on sleeping pills. Her body was found at the cemetary, lying on Kevin's grave. No one suspected a damn thing.

It's later, and I'm on the run. I suppose I should have done more then just report the explosion, but I was scared. I soon learned that I had reason to be. I was in a bar, trying to drown my sorrows, when I heard it on the TV. My face appeared on the screen, along with the story. "Daria Morgendorffer is wanted for the murder of Jane Lane." If this was a tv show, I'd have to quickly sneak out of the bar, but no one was paying attention. I left anyhow. I did a quick fade, getting out of town the least conspicuous way I could. I hopped a train. I learned a bit from the hoboes on the train. Not only about hopping trains, but about surviving in the homeless set. I'd need it, as I'm now a wanted fugitive. I'd been getting the papers. Blue had done a thorough job of framing me. The police had found all kinds of evidence in my apartment. She was just as slick in framing me as she had been in faking her own death...

About 3 months after Kevin's mom's death it really hit the fan. Mr. Taylor came home to find his barbie doll wife pinned to the wall with a butcher knife through her throat. Taped to her front was a note:

He followed the directions implicitly. Oddly though, someone called in an anonymous tip to the police. He got on the boat with the gym bag. Minutes later "Lawndale's Finest" arrived. They surrounded the ship (as best as possible without using any boats, anyhow) and shouted something through a bullhorn. A shot came from the ship, or so they say, and the cops opened fire. Then the ship exploded. They only recovered three bodies. One was clearly Steve Taylor. The other two were the right size and shape to be Brian and Brittany. The bodies were too badly mangled to be clearly identified. Nobody suspected a damn thing either. No one except Jane.

Jodie took responsibility for the funeral. She asked me to help take down Brittany's web site, since I was more computer literate than her. In fact, I'd gotten incredibly interested in it, even taking hacking lessons from some of the local techy nerds. Her site was pretty good, making me wonder who'd actually designed it. I decided to e-mail the other members of her message board. To my surprise, one of the cheerleaders, 'True Blue' had posted anonymously. I did some hacking, and discovered that the posts had come from Brittany's own computer. I didn't think much of it at the time, I just assumed it was some kind of prank of Brian's. I mentioned it in passing to Jane, who seemed to take it quite seriously. If only I had...

It's many days, and many towns later. I'm adjusting to homelessness. I had leaned a bit about the theater when Jane was doing the sets at our college. I'd gotten talked into playing an old woman, and I learned to make myself up as an old woman. Believe me, no one will accept a young homeless person. The idea of revenge was not even an option. Oh, I'd ponder it at times, but it would be an unreachable goal. I was busy enough just surviving. If only I'd believed Jane sooner...

Jane had always had a fascination with the events. She'd done a lot of investigation, a hell of a lot more investigating then the Lawndale cops had. I remember her showing me her file on it. It got a little bigger every year. She kept telling me that she was positive Brittany and Brian Taylor were alive somewhere. That they'd faked the whole thing. I thought the whole thing was flakey, and told her so. Then, about a year ago, a poet known only as 'Blue' was at our college. She was touring to promote a book, or some damn thing. Jane got one look at her and swore it was Brittany. She showed me a picture, and I pointed to her chest. "Too small." had been my only comment. So Jane started to investigate this 'Blue'. That's when the real trouble began.

I can't believe she's been dead for over a year now. I've been too busy surviving. I've been in the same town for 6 months now. I've learned how to go from shelter to shelter for food and a place to sleep. Since I found out early on I wasn't well suited to begging, I did odd jobs. The easiest was reading to old folks in a local retirement village. There I was 'Rita', a young woman who liked to read to the old people. It was much better run then the one I remember seeing in high school. I would go there for 4 hours a day and make a few bucks a day.

It was there I met 'Fast' Eddie, a car thief. He was alright. He stole cars to pay for his mother's health care. I wasn't suppose to know about his double life, but I'd run into him while in my 'Rose the homeless lady' guise. He'd ducked down an alley running from the cops. Lucky for him, I was sleeping in that particular alley. I shoved him into the back of my refrigerator box. Then I'd told the cops he'd run straight past me. He bought me dinner as a 'thank you'. We talked a bit, and I learned he was a car thief. He had other criminal connections that would come in useful if I ever got around to avenging Jane's death. He never saw through my disguise. I was learning all kinds of useful things, in my spare time. I spent hours in the libraries, learning about chemistry. Some of the money I had earned went toward the purchase of several 'underground' books, detailing less then legal uses of chemicals, and how to acquire them. I also kept up with the news. 'Blue' was a rising star in the literary circles. She had had Jane killed, and there seemed to be nothing I could do...

Jane had dug up all kinds of stuff on 'Blue'. Unfortunately, she hadn't been very subtle about her inquiries. One day she was crossing a road, when someone ran the red light. She managed to leap out of the way, but it was a very close thing. That night, she had woken up to go to the bathroom, when she smelled gas. Someone had turned on all of gas taps on her stove. That's when she contacted me. She was scared. Her room had been searched, she told me. She told me she had a secret cache of evidence hidden away somewhere. On that last day, before she died, she'd called me and said she had the final nail. She could PROVE that 'Blue' was really Brittany Taylor. But she never told me what it was, or where she'd cached her evidence. She had only told me she'd sent it to the last man you'd expect her to.

Another 8 months go by. Then I get a lucky break. I was just settling down to sleep in a box in one of the less pleasant alleys in the city, when I heard a scream, quickly smothered. Then I heard an electric zapping sound, and heard someone dragging someone else into the alley. I lashed out with my foot, and the moron tripped right over it. He went down hard, hitting his head on some jagged bricks that were lying there. I checked the victim first. She was a college kid, probably 19 or so. She appeared ok, just stunned. I checked him. He had a fairly bad concussion. I drug him deeper into the alley. I told him I'd called 911, and they'd told me to keep him talking. He talked. His name was Fred. I learned that he lived alone, in a big house out in the country. It was ideal. I pulled out my knife and slit his throat. I searched him quickly, finding his stun gun. He'd used the highest setting on the girl, which was good. I didn't need her waking up while I hid the body. I covered him up with bricks and dirt as fast as I could. The cops didn't visit this alley often, so I figured I'd have a few days before anyone found him. I came up with his wallet (I'd forgotten what 20 dollar bills looked like...) and his keys. A plan began to form in my mind, even as I began carrying the girl out of the alley. It would be risky, but it would make my dreams of revenge a reality.

I dropped the college kid off at a homeless shelter. She had come to before we got there, and I'd told her I'd scared off her attacker. Then I went to a public restroom to remove my disguise. I'd managed to learn the location of his vehicle from the rapist. But 'Rosey the homeless person' wouldn't fit in well in a parking garage in the nicer portion of downtown. I put on the nicest clothes I had, and some appropriate make-up, and headed for the garage. It was getting near midnight, and I had a lot of work to do. I got to the parking garage. Fortunately, the receipt had the lot number, or I'd never have found it. It was a freakin' Ford Exposition. Not only was it gigantic, but it got about 12 miles to the gallon. I got in and drove out. I was worried about the attendant, but he never gave me a second glance. I drove slowly and carefully out into the country where a map had told me Fred's home was located. His home was even more isolated than I'd thought it would be. It was surrounded by a huge fence. I pressed a button on the dashboard, and the fence slid open. Lights along the driveway came on. I'd asked him if he had attack dogs or guards in his house, all the while pretending to be impressed by his story. He said he didn't, but I was certainly worried. The garage door had opened automatically, and the light was on inside. I drove in and shut the truck off.

I quickly searched the vehicle. I'd expected to find a gun, and I wasn't disappointed. I searched the house quickly, going from room to room with the gun drawn. I didn't find any people, but I found enough stuff to make me feel a lot less guilty about slitting his throat. I found his safe, which wasn't even locked. I soon had quite a bit of cash, and began to carry as many valuables as I could out to his truck. Lucky for me, Fred had been big on material possessions. Soon I had it filled. It was now 3 AM. Just enough time for a long bath. I know what your thinking, but I'd not had a bath for over a year, even showers were few and far between. Plus who wants to take a shower in a psycho's house? I left right before the sun could come up. Now I just needed some help from 'Fast Eddie'.

He always had breakfast with his mother at the home. When he left, I walked with him. "Hey Eddy" I said to him "could you help me with something?"

"Like what?" He asked.

"Getting rid of that." I responded, pointing at the Exposition. He looked at it with surprise.

"This isn't your car." It wasn't a question.

"Get in." I replied. He did. "It's my former boyfriends. So's the stuff in the back." Eddie glanced into the back, lifting the blanket I'd used to cover the stolen goods. He looked back at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Must have been some break-up." He said. His voice made it clear that he didn't believe my story.

"You're a car thief." He seemed more amused then surprised at my knowledge. "You've got connections. I'll split with you, 50-50. This stuff will bring in 5 grand easy. That'll buy a lot of medication for your mom."

"You seem to know a lot about this kind of thing." I just looked at him. He heaved a sigh and continued "It'll take a few days to get rid of this stuff for you, if you want the best prices."

"I do. I'll see you at the nursing home in a few days. You wouldn't happen to know where I can get some identifications made, would you? I'm going to have to leave town soon."

Fast Eddie directed me to an 'artist' who produced several new identifications for me. This would make it possible for me to travel legally. Having done so, I quickly hopped a train out of town. They'd discovered the body sooner than I thought they would. Fortunately, Eddie came up with more money then I'd expected. I hoped a train with my money stowed about me. I also kept the gun, stun-gun and knife, in case someone tried something stupid. Luckily, the freight train I'd hopped was empty. Over the next few days, I deposited most of the money in different banks, under different names. No point in carrying that much cash around. Now I finally had enough money to avenge Jane's death. But where had she hidden the evidence?

It came to me in a dream. Literally. I was walking down the halls of Lawndale High with Jane. It was right after graduation. Suddenly Upchuck had approached. For some reason, Upchuck was obsessed with Jane. She told him that, someday, she'd need a favor from him, and if he performed the favor, he'd get his wish. I woke with a start. It was Upchuck. he was certainly the last person you'd expect Jane to trust. But where was he?

A bit of hacking turned up the answer. It wasn't hard, and it sure as hell wasn't surprising. He was running a 'movie' studio in Burbank, California. If you'd known Charles, then you can imagine what kinds of movies he was making. I hopped a few trains, and was soon in Burbank. I'd acquired a phony private investigator license and badge for one of my fake IDs. It wouldn't stand up to any examination, but it would explain why I'm poking around. I learned that Charles liked to 'audition' young actresses in his office, and that he had a bodyguard. I observed them for a few days, plotting, then made my move. I suppose I could have posed as a young actress, but I found the idea appalling.

The bodyguard would wait outside the building while Charles did his 'auditioning'. As soon as he stepped out, I casually walked by, then asked him if I could bum a smoke. When he had his hand on the smokes, I hit him with the stun-gun. He went down like a load of bricks, and weighed about as much. I drug him into the office, and locked the door. Charle's 'Audition room' was in the back. I put on a ski mask and black gloves and pulled out a 45 Magnum. It wasn't a good gun to use, but it was certainly intimidating, and what you hit with it tended to stay down. I moved into the audition room, preparing myself for the worst. Needless to say, I got it.

The 'actress' was wearing black combat boots, a black skirt, orange T-shirt and a green jacket. She was doing a slow strip. I'd caught her just as she started. I pointed the gun at Upchuck, and let my anger fill my voice "On the floor Charles! NOW!" He quickly complied. "YOU," I turned back to the woman "Out! NOW!"

"But... what about my clothes?" She really wasn't too bright. Trying to seem as casual, I turned and fired the 45 into the floor a few feet from her. It left a nice sized hole. She got the message. She quickly gathered up her clothes and fled. I put the stun-gun to Charle's neck and used it on the lowest setting. Then I let her out. She ran pretty fast. I quickly tied up the bodyguard, then hauled Charles into his office in the back, and tied him to his chair. My curiosity got the better of me, and I went back into the audition room. I glanced through the closet. There was each of Charle's high school crushes. Every girl he'd known in high school, there was their outfit. Jane's red jacket, that stupid smiley shirt Quinn used to wear all the time, and several Lawndale High cheerleader outfits. I looked at the last thoughtfully, then threw them into a bag. Then I went back to Upchuck's office. He was just starting to come to, so I threw a glass of water into his face.

"Wakey-Wakey Mr. Ruttheimer. Time to answer some questions." I'd resumed a more professional voice.

"But I was gonna pay them back, I swear I just need some more time." Age hadn't improved his voice any. He thought I was a loan shark. Great.

"I'm not here about that. You've received some packages from Jane Lane. Where are they?"

"Packages? Jane Lane? I... I don't know what you're talking about" His lies weren't any more convincing then his lines from High School. I heaved a dramatic sigh and pulled out a small case. I placed it on his desk, so he'd have a good view of its contents. It contain several scalpels, and a tool I'd picked up in a farm supply store. I picked the last up and held it in front of his face.

"Recognize this, Mr. Ruttheimer? It is used by farmers to neuter animals. The nice thing about it, is that it works for other animals as well. Now, will you talk, or would you like to say goodbye to your two best friends?"

"Ok, she sent me some stuff, and instructed me to put it into a safety deposit box at the local bank. I never looked at any of it I swear!"

"Give me the key to the box."

"Key? I don't have..."

"Bullshit! Look, I don't especially enjoy torture, but I don't want to be her all day." I pulled out my switchblade, and opened it in front of him. He jumped and paled. "Remember Lorena Bobbit, Charles? I'll try to leave you enough to pee with..."

He let out a screech that would have been amusing in other circumstances. "It's in my desk drawer! Top left!"

I retrieved it, then quickly searched through the rest of the office. I found a wall safe behind a painting of Charles in medieval garb. Pointing the 45 at Charles, I inquired politely "Combination?" He told me and I opened it. It was loaded with cash and stocks and bonds. Nothing else of interest though. I left the safe wide open, and headed out. I found two large thugs at the front door, working on the lock. They drew their guns when they saw me. I ignored them and opened the door.

"You the loan sharks?" They just looked at me. Yeah, I know, silly question. "He's in his office. I left the safe open for you." I walked by them. They made no move to stop me. I got rid of the ski mask, and headed for the bank. Once again, I was helped along by employee's lack of interest in their jobs. I got the box, and removed the contents. I carried it back to a hotel room, so I could go over it.

She certainly had everything. She had newspaper clippings and facts about two missing persons who'd disappeared around the time of Brittany's alleged death. A note in the margins in Jane's hand said "DNA test? But how to get the rights to exhume the bodies?" There were lots of other things, including files from 'Blue's' breast reduction surgery. In the other envelope was a print out from the FBI's computer. Apparently Steve Taylor had had his children fingerprinted at a young age, in case they disappeared or where kidnapped. She had somehow obtained the original paper with the child's fingerprints on it. I got a magnifying glass and compared the old fingerprints to the ones from the printout. They matched. Apparently, 'Blue' hadn't remembered it, or hadn't been able to hack the FBI computers.

I bought a plane ticket to New York. "Blue' was doing a big book signing at the downtown Books By The Ton. I had an interesting little prank to play on her. I found a not entirely reputable escort service to provide a dozen blonds with large uh cleavage. I dressed them in Lawndale High cheerleader uniforms I'd obtained from Upchuck, and, after giving them the twin ponytails, I sent them to 'Books By The Ton'. I tapped into the store's security cameras, so I could watch the fun. The cheerleaders gathered in a circle around 'Blue' and her entourage. When Blue saw them, she FREAKED! I was hoping she'd attack them, but she got control of herself, then stormed out.

I kept a vigilant eye on the escort service. As I expected, one of the men I recognized from Blue's entourage entered the office. I got out my loaded tranquilizer gun, and waited. He came back out, and I waited until he had open the door to his car before I shot him. He got into his car before passing out. I moved quickly, shoving him over, and driving off. I just hoped he was who I thought he was.

I parked his car in a bad neighborhood, and loaded him into a wheelchair. I strapped him into it, then switched to the van I'd left here. Of course, I'd paid a couple of guys to watch it, so it was still there. I paid them, and commented on the nice car I'd seen parked down the road a bit. Then I loaded my prisoner into the van, and drove away. I took him to the cheap apartment I'd rented, and waited for him to come to.

He came to slowly, cautiously. He quietly tested his bonds. Only then did he open his eyes fully, and glare at me.

"Who are you?"

"An old friend of your sister's, Brian." I'd checked his prints while he slept. I had thought that 'Blue' would only send him for this job, but it was nice to confirm it.

"Brian?" His voice was filled with pseudo-confusion "My name's not Brian." I sighed dramatically.

"I don't have time to torture the truth out of you Brian." I pulled out a syringe filled with Sodium Pentothal. "So we'll do this the easy way." I wait for it to take effect. The questioning takes an hour, and I record it all. I make notes to myself. When he's finished, I knocked him out again.

I leave Brian in the van and get on the roof of a building next to the one Brian told me 'Blue' was in. I'm the suspicion type, and after her brother was gone for an hour, I somehow doubted she'd still be there. Looking through the targeting scope on my rifle, I saw the room she was suppose to be in was empty. I thought I could see something attached to the door. I shot it, and there was a nice explosion. I got out a cell phone, and dialed a number. Soon it was answered. By her.

"Hello?" Her voice was nothing like the Brittany I'd known.

"Hello Brittany" I managed to keep my voice level, despite the anger I felt. There was a pause, then:

"Who are you?"

"More importantly, I think, is what I want. I have your brother, and I can prove who you really are. I think we should meet."

"You want me to pick the place?"

"I doubt you'd trust me to do it. Call me back in one hour."

"Wait, what is your number?"

"You have it. Brian told me about your caller ID. One hour." I hung up the phone. I went back to the van and drove around. She was very prompt, calling exactly one hour later. She got right to the point.

"Schueller's Warehouse, 67 Galveston St, be there in 4 hours." Then she hung up. I spent two of the hours preparing. I'd wear the same outfit I'd worn to deal with Charles. The lenses on the ski mask would allow me to see in the dark, and it also had amplifiers to increase my hearing. I scouted the place, and was unsurprised to see it was guarded. Blue didn't want me to show up early. I waited. Exactly a half hour before I was supposed to be there, a blue mini-van pulled up. The guards nodded to her, and she drove into the warehouse through a garage door. I waited twenty minutes, then dialed her number.

"Lose the guards, or the deal is off."

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't show up early. I'll get rid of them now." I watched as the guards left.

"When you hear me honk, open the garage door." I drove up to the same door she'd entered, and honked. The door opened, and I drove inside. Blue was sitting at a table, and she had her own hostage. I lowered the ramp in the back of the van, and wheeled Brian out. He was still doped. I glanced in all directions, looking for snipers. I didn't see any. When I got closer, I saw who Blue's hostage was. It was Jodie Landon.

"You had me fooled. I was sure you were Jodie. Still, I figured you'd be better behaved if I had my own hostage. It's Daria, right?

"Very good... Brittany." From the gasp Jodie made through her gag, I guessed that she hadn't figured that out. I watched Blue turn red with rage.

"DO....NOT....CALL...ME....THAT!" She was shaking with rage. I noticed that Jodie's legs weren't tied, and she was merely handcuffed, not tied to the chair. If I could get the gun pointed away from her, she could dive away from Blue.

"What's the matter, Brittany? Didn't you like being a bleached bimbo moron?"

"DAMN YOU!" She lost it. She shoved Jodie to the floor and pulled her gun. I moved as quickly, drawing, aiming and firing in one quick motion. I got two shots off before I felt her slug slam into me. I went down hard, but so did she. She was a good shot, and I'd have been dead if not for the body armor I had on. I got back up as quick as I could, and raced to her. She hadn't worn body armor. I'd shot her in both of her shoulders. She was whimpering piteously. I put the gun right into her face.

"Give me one reason not to kill you, Blue." She looked into my eyes, and new I wasn't bluffing.

"Daria, don't!" Jodie had gotten her gag off, and drew nearer to us.

"Go ahead and do it." The anguish in 'Blue's' voice was astonishing. "I've no regrets. You don't know what it was like. When I was young, I wanted to read and learn things. Daddy just wanted me to be cute and brainless. Mom encouraged me, but then he divorced her and cheated her out of custody. He abused Brian, and punished me if I did anything but what he wanted. Soon I found myself molded into a brainless, cute doll. But part of me was still me. That part of me stayed bottled up, for the most part. But occasionally I got out. I realized that, in order to stay out, I'd have to destroy Brittany's world. First I got rid of her mindless boyfriend. Then I killed his vacuous barbie doll of a wife. Brian and I had it all planned out. We'd found some run-aways who were the same basic body type as us, and we placed them aboard the ship. Then we took the money from him, and slit his throat. Brian rigged up the explosives, and I called the cops. We got away with it free and clear, and used the money to start new lives."

"But why did you have to kill Jane?"

"I didn't want to, but she was getting too close! I couldn't let the truth get out, I just couldn't! It might bring her back!"

I sighed and put away my gun. I released Jodie from the cuffs and we called the police.

It's been a year now. The slow wheels of justice have finally turned me loose. All of Jane's evidence, along with fingerprints of 'Blue' and Brian proved that they had not died. The bodies were exhumed, and DNA tests identified them. I was cleared of Jane's murder. 'Blue' made a full confession, and both her and Brian are now under psychological care.

The media circus has been considerable. They want to publish my 'journal' of these events, and I suppose a movie is inevitable. I'll have to edit it quite a bit. No point in publishing my criminal activities during my 'homeless' phase. Plus, I'd like to emphasise more the less enjoyable parts of it, like never being able to bathe, or having to go through a dumpster for food. Anyway, I'm glad it is finally all over. There was just one thing I still had to do, and I'd have to sneak out to do it.

I managed to get out of my home unnoticed. I didn't want the media recording this, it was private. Just between me and her. I made the trip to the cemetary in a rental car. Her tombstone had been carved by her mother, and was quite beautiful. I dropped the black rose I'd brought with me onto her last resting place, and let the tears flow for a while.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you sooner. I hope you can rest a little easier knowing that." I walked away, knowing that Jane wouldn't want me do dwell on her death. I walked away, with the rest of my life ahead of me.