in a tidal wave of mystery;
Clem left around five-thirty, muttering something about hoping her dad would be working late again so she wouldn't have to suffer through dinner with both of her parents. Without any warning, she'd leaned in and hugged Beth on her way out, and Beth had hugged her back, though it felt odd. She wasn't sure why – she'd never been one to shy away from platonic affection. Maybe it was partly due to how she was having trouble convincing herself that these girls were actually friends who cared about her. There was still a part of her mind that was convinced they wouldn't bat an eye if she up and disappeared without a word.
Beth checked her phone, expecting to find another text message from Daryl. But there wasn't any more word from him. It was nearing six when she headed into the kitchen, putting away clean dishes and rummaging around in the cabinets for an idea of something to make for dinner. Her stomach was rumbling and she knew that if she didn't eat, she'd end up drifting off to sleep from the little bit of moonshine she'd had. She assumed Daryl didn't have a meal planned and she didn't want to risk missing out on dinner and reading time.
She had just finished cleaning up the kitchen and was still looking around in the cabinets, a packet of mix in her hand while she searched for something to go with it, when she heard the front door unlock and open. Then she heard Malachi's voice growing louder. She stepped over to the bar and looked across it to see Daryl struggling to balance a couple of pizza boxes atop one hand while the other held his motorcycle helmet and keys. She quickly dropped the packet in her hand and rushed around to the front door, reaching out and grabbing the boxes from Daryl's hand.
"Here – lemme help," she said, and he handed them over, freeing up his hand so he could finally pull the keys from the door.
"Thanks," he grunted.
"Rosie! Yer here!" Malachi said excitedly, and Beth turned and looked down at him to see a big grin on his face.
"Hi! I told you I'd be here," she smiled.
"Ya didn't start cookin', did ya?" Daryl asked, glancing towards the kitchen and noticing the light was on.
Beth shook her head, carrying the pizza boxes over to the kitchen and setting them down on the counter. "No, I was just about to, actually. I didn't know you were bringin' pizza home."
"Sorry, shoulda texted ya," he said, slipping off his backpack and vest and hanging the vest up on the coatrack. Beth noticed he'd been wearing it and smiled to herself. He set about untying his boots and slipping them off. "Figured it's Friday an' it's been awhile since me an' the kid had pizza. His idea, I jus' went with it."
"Yeah – it was my idea!" Malachi said happily. "And-and Dad said yes!"
Beth raised her eyebrows and looked down at Malachi with feigned surprise. "What? You?! Does that mean you love pizza as much as I do?"
Malachi's eyes widened. "Um – yes! Um, how much – how much d'you love pizza? OH! D'you like uh, do you like cheese? Or peppa-woni? Dad asked me and I said, I said, um – I said that I think it's cheese."
Beth smiled. "Well, you guessed right. How did you know?"
Mal grinned again. "I'm pie-sick!"
Beth paused, trying to figure out what he meant. Daryl stepped into the hall, his boots left by the front door and motorcycle helmet in his hand, and paused in front of the kitchen.
"Mal, yer sayin' it wrong," he said, looking down at his son. "It's psy-chic."
Mal turned and looked at his dad, then opened his eyes larger and nodded. He turned back to Beth and spoke slowly, "I'm… side-kick."
Beth covered her mouth as she giggled and Daryl scoffed from where he stood, shaking his head and chuckling quietly. "We'll work on it."
He urged the toddler out of the kitchen and down the hallway, toward the bedroom and bathroom, then paused and turned to Beth. "Picked up some stuff I thought ya might want, too."
Beth furrowed her brow. "Like what?"
He held up his finger to signal for her to wait a moment while he stepped away and retrieved his backpack from where it sat by the coatrack. He pulled out a plastic bag and brought it over, handing it to her.
"Jus' some like – more pads, an' I dunno if it's anythin' like a really bad period or somethin', but I got some chocolate, too," he explained sheepishly, his cheeks turning pink as he watched Beth open the bag and peer inside.
She smiled and looked back up at him. "Thanks. That's really thoughtful of you."
Daryl shrugged and cleared his throat. "Don't mention it."
He gave her a brief nod then turned and headed toward the bathroom and bedroom to join Malachi, walking a little quicker than usual. Beth watched him walk away, then took the bag of pads and candy into her room and set it on the nightstand for the time being.
While the boys quickly cleaned up and changed, Beth set the table with glasses and napkins. She turned off the TV and gazed out the open window at the city below as the sun set and the sky darkened, waiting patiently for them to join her. With the sounds of Daryl and Malachi drifting through the apartment, a calmness settled over her. For tonight, she felt… okay. Like maybe her insides wouldn't be eating themselves with anxiety for at least a few hours. In the beginning, her bedroom had been a safe space – the only safe space in the world for her. Now, it was the apartment in its entirety. And she couldn't decide whether that was an improvement or a liability.
Malachi came racing down the hall first, climbing clumsily into his chair and waiting. Beth joined Daryl in the kitchen, grabbing plates and slices of pizza. With two plates in his hands, Daryl paused at the counter and looked at Beth like he'd sensed her contemplation.
"How're you doin' today?" He asked quietly, studying her face.
Beth could hear Malachi singing to himself from the table and she put on a small smile. "A lot better now."
Daryl gave her a half-smile and left the kitchen with Beth following closely behind him.
They sat at the table and ate their pizza happily, Malachi chatting away about his day. When he mentioned how happy he'd been to see "Rosie" at lunchtime, Daryl's eyes met Beth's and he gave her a quizzical look. She nodded and shrugged.
"Carol just wanted t'know how I was doing. And feed me," she explained briefly.
"Yeah – and Rosie um, we played Legos," Mal chirped, his face covered in pizza sauce.
Daryl nodded in understanding and looked over at his son. "Hey – ya got somethin' on yer face, dude."
Mal grabbed his napkin and sloppily ran it across his mouth, somehow missing all of the pizza sauce. He looked to his father again. "Is it – is it gone?"
Daryl stifled a laugh and nodded his head, looking across the table at Beth as they shared a smile. He glanced back to the toddler and nodded, "Yeah, yer good."
Malachi was occupied with his pizza for a few moments and Daryl met Beth's eyes. "You comin' tomorrow?"
Beth nodded, glancing down at her slice of pizza as she set it down and wiped her hands with a napkin. "Planned on it. Might… take it kinda easy."
Daryl grunted in agreement, chewing a bite of pizza and swallowing before speaking again. "Wasn't gonna let ya do too much anyway."
Beth rolled her eyes but smirked, taking a sip from her glass while exchanging playful half-smiles and knowing looks across the table.
By the end of dinner, Daryl had to take Malachi to the bathroom to wash his face and hands of all the pizza sauce. He also had to change the toddler's shirt. Beth put away the leftover pizza and cleaned up the remaining napkins on the table. Then she heard tiny feet charging down the hallway.
"Okay, we got an hour till bedtime," Daryl announced, following his son at a leisurely pace as they headed toward the living room. "If yer good, maybe you can stay up later. But we gotta be up in the mornin' fer class."
"I kno-ow, Dad!" Malachi called back with a hint of attitude as he reached the bookcase and excitedly grabbed a book off the shelf.
Beth shut off the kitchen light and followed Daryl into the living room. "Wow, three going on thirteen?"
Daryl scoffed and glanced back at her. "Tell me about it."
They sat down on the couch together, leaving half a cushion of space between them, while Malachi got comfortable on the opposite end of the couch, tucked into the cushy corner with his legs up so he could watch and listen. Daryl leaned towards Mal and looked at Beth, taking the book from his son's hands and holding it out for her.
"We're waitin'," he said, smirking.
Beth raised her eyebrows. "Actually, I was thinkin' you should read tonight. I didn't really get ta hear those voices you do so well."
Daryl blushed briefly and looked at Mal. "Who d'you want ta read?"
Malachi appeared thoughtful for a second, glancing at Beth before looking back to his dad again. He grinned. "Yeah, do the voices for Rosie, Dad! Yours are funny."
Daryl feigned a look of offense. "Oh – excuse me? A couple weeks ago, you thought I was the best damn Snape this side a the Mason-Dixon."
Beth giggled and Malachi laughed while Daryl sat back and opened the book, playfully side-eyeing his son.
"Alrigh' – no laughin', you two. Unless it's a funny part," Daryl grumbled, plucking out the bookmark carefully and squinting down at the page.
"We won't laugh, promise," Beth assured him, still smiling in amusement.
Daryl's face was bright red for the first few minutes that he was reading, but once he got into the rhythm of the story and Mal was giggling at his voices, he seemed to relax. Beth watched the boys with a smile on her face, listening to the story told in Daryl's low voice. By the end of the first chapter, she was leaning her leg against his and had scooted in just a tiny bit closer. She saw him glance over at her for a brief second, then he smiled, but she was pretty sure he was smiling at the line he'd just read. The fluttering in her stomach made a reappearance – and this time, she knew it was in her stomach and nowhere else.
They made it through four or five chapters before Mal started rubbing his eyes and struggling to keep them open. Like clockwork, it was only about fifteen minutes past his usual bedtime and he was fighting sleep. Daryl noticed and wrapped up the chapter he was reading, shutting the book dramatically.
"C'mon, kid, jus' lookin' at ya's making me sleepy," he announced, standing up and gesturing for Malachi to stand up off the couch.
The toddler let out a little whine. "Aww, Dad – I'm not tired, my eyes hurt, I - "
"Hey, don't argue," Daryl said, stepping over and putting the book away. "Gotta get up in the mornin'. Let's go, pick up them feet."
Malachi knew better than to fight it and climbed off the couch, walking over to Beth as if it were part of his routine. He opened his arms and she leaned in to give him a hug.
"Goodnight, I'll see you in the mornin'," she told him.
"Okay. 'Night," Mal yawned, then dragged himself off toward the hall with his dad.
Daryl glanced back at Beth and said, "I'll be back in a minute."
She nodded and watched him lead his son off to bed. When she could no longer hear their footsteps or voices, she reached over and grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. She flipped through the channels for a bit only to find that there was nothing interesting on. Leaving the television at a low volume, Beth got up and went to her bedroom to retrieve her phone and bring it back to the couch with her.
The sky was completely dark outside and the breeze drifting in through the windows had become considerably cooler. The noise of traffic and people had died down, but it was still audible. Nowadays, Beth didn't even notice it as anything more than white noise. She scrolled through the national news sites, wanting to pass the time until Daryl returned without really expecting to find anything. There were more headlines about political discourse and foreign affairs, missing children, and murdered women. In an act of muscle memory, Beth navigated to the Georgia news site. She scrolled down for a second, her mind wandering as she thought about Daryl and listened for his footsteps. She was so distracted that she hadn't even seen the small link to the article at first.
It wasn't a major headline on the website, which had caught her off-guard – she wasn't particularly looking for a smaller article. She thought that her family's case would always be of major priority. Yet she'd scrolled right past the small, underlined font that read: "Beth Greene: Natural Born Killer or Victim of Circumstance?"
She blinked rapidly, staring down at the screen of her phone. She wasn't misreading it, and yes, it was very much a real article posted to a real website for the news station in Georgia. Yet this article was in the sidebar of the webpage, in smaller font, less noticeable. Was this more information? What else could they have possibly learned while the trial was still ongoing? Surely it wasn't legal for them to release anything else this early in the court proceedings. Unless they'd found out something about Beth…? It did have her name right in the headline – which was possibly the most unsettling part about it.
Her breath had caught in her throat and she quickly tapped the link, waiting impatiently while the page loaded. Then she stared down at the print, reading quickly. It was different than all the other updates Beth had read, yet she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Nevertheless, she continued to read:
Atlanta, GA - Sept. 15, 2017
If you've been following the Greene Family case, then you know all about the heinous Hershel Greene and his church of lies. Which means you probably also know about his youngest daughter, Beth – a wanted fugitive of the state and the main suspect in the shooting of Detective Shane Walsh on the night of August 26th. In the last week, the Greene's had their arraignments, and Hershel Greene pled guilty to all charges soon after waiving his right to representation, leading the authorities to believe that his eldest daughter, Maggie Greene-Rhee, would follow suit. However, Maggie, 24, entered a plea of not guilty. As did her husband of one year, Glenn Rhee.
The residents of small, sleepy Senoia were shocked and outraged to learn of the truth behind the Greene farm and the Senoia Baptist Church. Not a single one of Hershel Greene's long-time neighbors had even the slightest clue that he'd been running an illicit, multi-million dollar operation for the better part of a decade. Which goes to show just how well the patriarch Greene used his connections, location, resources, and reputation to his advantage. With a location just outside of Senoia and the nearest neighbor more than seven miles away, the Greene Farm was kept shrouded in mystery – helped in part by the loyalty of Hershel's employees and congregation.
But to what lengths did Hershel go to ensure his operation would remain completely undetected by authorities? Sources have speculated darker details that are being kept from the public as the trial progresses. However, Maggie's plea has given one major clue, and unnamed sources working closely with the District Attorney have mentioned rumors of a defense relying on the claim of coercion. While both Maggie and husband, Glenn, are utilizing the long-time family lawyer, most everyone on the defense team is keeping tight lips. Understandably so, with the life of a young woman and her new husband hanging in the balance.
The webs that have been woven by the Greene family and their extensive repertoire of felonies don't stop there, though. If you're wondering which card in the house so beautifully built by the worn and weathered hands of Hershel Greene was the first to fall, you'd be asking the same question as everyone else. The better-known clues point to the murders of Annette and Shawn Greene last spring. Annette Greene, second wife of Hershel Greene and mother to Beth and Shawn, was murdered within minutes of her son on the night of April 12th, 2017 inside the Greene family's home. And so began a long and strenuous murder investigation, with Hershel Greene's farm and family at the very center. With nothing to keep them hidden from the scrutinizing eye of the law, the Greene's reportedly scrambled to cover their tracks. But not without alerting several observant law enforcement members and bringing down a hailstorm of questions. It seemed the murders of Hershel Greene's wife and adopted son were not random tragedies. Police began to suspect that these brutal killings were a sign of something much larger and more dangerous, possibly even the first of several casualties to come.
Still, authorities had no just cause for their suspicions. They had no evidence and with Hershel Greene, a retired veterinarian, an active member in his community, and the sole foundation of the Senoia Baptist Church, there was no judge to be found who would give police the time of day. The last time Hershel Greene had any kind of negative encounter with law enforcement was well before his hair had grayed and even before he'd met his late wife, and he sat proudly with the fact that he'd remained sober from a prior alcohol addiction over twenty years ago. When Detective Dawn Lerner rallied for search warrants, her cries fell on deaf ears and shaking heads, befuddling those who'd known the Greene's and their reputation. That is, until Annette and Shawn Greene were stabbed to death and police were completely unable to locate one of the two suspected killers – a known junkie with an arrest record dating back to juvie. This was a 26-year-old man that police were familiar with and had never failed to track down. And suddenly, just a month after the Greene murders, he dropped off the face of the earth. Sources report that there has still been no word on his whereabouts and authorities have effectively closed the case.
As for 18-year-old Beth Greene? Still missing and wanted. On the night of August 26th, she reportedly fired a Beretta 92 into the back of Detective Shane Walsh, killing him almost instantly. Within seconds of the shooting, Maggie Greene-Rhee reportedly used a 25-pound lamp to bash in the skull of Detective Rick Grimes, leaving him unresponsive and comatose. While authorities sped to the farm in response, Maggie emptied the family's safe and attempted to flee beside her husband and her younger sister. But before they could disappear into the woods north of the farm, police successfully detained Maggie and Glenn, seizing a bag full of undisclosed contents from the safe (precinct hearsay has alleged that they were nothing more than "go bags" with less than a million dollars in cash altogether). Somehow, Beth Greene outran authorities and disappeared into the night. When she was last seen, police reported she was carrying two duffel bags, suspected to be full of Greene family heirlooms and a portion of Hershel Greene's illicit fortune. The Beretta was not located after a thorough search of the property, and it's been deduced that Beth still had it on her person when she fled.
The aspect about this case that has authorities and citizens baffled is the fact that almost nothing is known about the youngest Greene daughter. And the little bits that are have been oddly covered up, or otherwise ignored, by officials. Every official source that this reporter reached out to has refused to comment on the death of James "Jimmy" Cline, the 19-year-old boyfriend of Beth Greene who allegedly took his own life while being held in Atlanta Grady Detention Center. Although the story was reported, very little information was given, and next of kin were given just as few details.
If you didn't hear about Beth Greene's dead boyfriend, you're not alone. Authorities have effectively stifled all questions about the case, citing respect for the Cline family. However, when asked for a comment, the Cline family has reported that they are upset with what little information was given to them. They explained they had very little contact with Jimmy in the last year before his death, and they have no stake in the Greene family's case because they admittedly knew Beth only by name, and Hershel was an acquaintance – known only to them as the kind, old pastor who ran a farm outside of town. Their last interaction with Jimmy or any of the Greene's was in late 2016. Cline's family say they never knew him to meddle with drugs or illegal activities, yet they were told that he was arrested with meth in his system and on his person. For reasons they could not explain, the family was not allowed to view Jimmy's body before laying him to rest. When asked for some sort of explanation on this particular detail, officials at the Atlanta Grady Detention Center and both Senoia and Atlanta Police Departments refused to comment and stopped accepting calls or emails.
What makes Jimmy Cline's arrest and death even more interesting? He was booked into custody on the night of August 25th, almost exactly 24 hours before Detectives Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh entered the Greene home and met their fates. If that's not coincidental, then let's consider for a moment the fact that 19-year-old Cline died of "self-inflicted wounds" on the night of August 30th – just 4 days after authorities arrested the entire Greene farm and seized everything on the property of the farm, as well as the Senoia Baptist Church. While it is worth taking into consideration that Cline reportedly tested positive for multiple drugs at the time of his arrest, he had no history of depression, mental illness, or addiction of any sort, and family and neighbors describe him as optimistic and hopeful, especially in times of doubt. Which brings about the question: how much could this young man have changed during the one year that he was intimately involved with the Greene family? And does Beth Greene's fugitive status have any connection to Cline's reported "suicide"? Or should we be looking into just how deep Hershel Greene's connections go, and how far they reach out?
While neighbors only knew Jimmy in passing, very few knew of Beth by any more than her name. The youngest Greene began attending private school shortly before junior high and it appears that her contact with the outside world was mostly limited to school, church, and her home on the farm. She was a straight-A student, listed on the honor roll nearly every single semester, involved in a handful of extracurricular activities, and she graduated second in her class after completing several advanced placement and Honors courses. Former teachers describe her as quiet, sweet, talented, intelligent beyond her years, and always well-behaved – which means that as far as any signs of violence or erratic behavior are concerned, the youngest Greene has a squeaky clean record, and not a single outsider involved in her life could make sense of the news that she allegedly murdered a police detective. As for college, there isn't even an application in existence with Bethany Greene's name on it. The most recent photo in authorities' possession is from a senior year photoshoot.
According to police, not one of the Greene family members has spoken a word as to the whereabouts of Beth. And while those working within the case are not legally allowed to reveal much, they have reported that it's been widely accepted that none of the Greene's know where Beth is headed exactly, and their best bet may be relying on the public and pursuing the small trail the teenager left behind in her desperate race for freedom. Which poses the question: did Beth flee with a plan, or is she still hiding somewhere in America, waiting for the trail to grow cold?
There is another theory floating through the grapevine, though less popular and far more heavily scrutinized. But when taken into context with Maggie Greene-Rhee's likely defense of coercion, perhaps it's not so out of the realm of possibility.
Could Beth Greene be innocent?
Before you begin shaking your head and dismissing the thought completely, let me state very clearly that I, in no way, condone the killing of another person, especially a member of law enforcement. Det. Shane Walsh's death was a tragedy. However, there is no evidence to support the claim that it was premeditated. And it wouldn't be out of the question to consider it self-defense. When you take into consideration all the circumstances surrounding the night of August 26th, there is a large space left open for questions about the real intentions behind Beth's actions. Malice… or fear?
Beth Greene was 17 years old when her mother and half-brother were murdered just feet away from her bedroom door. According to documentation, she turned 18 on August 23rd. Two days later, her boyfriend of over a year was arrested trying to break into her home and assault her. The next night, two mysterious men entered her home, armed with guns and looking for evidence to arrest her father and seize her family's home. And during all of this, the Senoia and Atlanta Police Departments were reportedly making their presences, and watchful eyes, felt around Hershel Greene's farm and church. Would it be so unbelievable to suggest that the Greene children were coerced into silence – creating a blanket of lies that would eventually smother them all?
According to authorities, the Greene Family operation began as early as 2008. Hershel Greene had already retired and Annette Greene had settled into her position as homemaker and mother, but Beth was no more than 9 years old. This would mean Shawn and Maggie became involved in their father's crimes at the ages of 11 and 15, respectively. Legally, they would have all been considered unfit for trial, and would've been treated as no more than victims of child abuse and endangerment. But they were raised into it and the operation continued, undisturbed, for well over eight years.
As the eldest child, Maggie became an adult first, and though she graduated from a private high school with a 3.8 GPA, there is no mention of college plans or applications in any records or documentation. After meeting her husband, Glenn Rhee, in 2015, they eventually began dating and then married in September 2016. Reportedly, Rhee joined the family's operation not long after the beginning of his relationship with Maggie and was treated no differently than Hershel's real son. Prior to 2015, Rhee had graduated from a public high school in Atlanta and worked as a delivery driver for Domino's.
The middle Greene child, Shawn, became a legal adult two years ago, graduating with a 2.9 GPA from the same private high school as Maggie. Though he was involved in FFA and two seasons of junior varsity football, there are no records of any applications to college. Sources suspect he was being groomed to take Hershel's place as the patriarch and kingpin of the Greene operation before his untimely death.
Now where does that leave Beth? As the youngest Greene child, she certainly experienced the most advantages from Hershel's newly attained wealth. The largest question that remains is how much she knew about the inner workings of her family's operation, and just how deadly she was raised to be considering the climate of the farm in the last decade. Was she kept out of the public eye for her own safety – or purely for Hershel's? Some have even asked whether she allegedly shot Det. Walsh on the orders of her father or her sister, or both, or if she was attempting to defend her family and, possibly, herself. Although these answers can't be reached just yet, mostly for legal reasons, it stands to reason that the questions will be posed on the stand when it comes time for the family to testify in court.
While the Greene case is sure to be long and drawn-out, there are others determined to find answers. The defense and the District Attorney have both refused to comment any further, and while that doesn't mean we have all the information yet, it does mean that there is a lot more to be dug up – maybe even details that law enforcement has yet to learn.
Hershel Greene will undoubtedly be spending the rest of his years behind bars, but can we justifiably convict his children? This reporter is determined to connect the dots of this mysterious case, and dig deeper into the dark history of Hershel Greene's criminal legacy. Stay tuned to WSAV for updates as I continue to interview, research, and uncover the layers of secrets hiding beneath the godly veil that Hershel Greene created and maintained.
Beth's heart was racing. There were several lines of the article that she reread multiple times, almost dazed from reading something about her family that wasn't horribly vague or misinterpreted. And when she got to the end, she scrolled back up in search of the reporter's name.
Who the fuck does this dude think he is?! She thought, furious and terrified at the same time. Sensationalizing my case, spreading my family history out there – why are you digging? Why are you putting my name all over the news again? Everyone knows I'm not innocent – even I know! Why are you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?! Just let me hide in peace, at least give me a chance to get away.
There was no name at the top, though, so Beth scrolled back down and found another paragraph at the very bottom of the page. It was brief and in smaller font, easy to miss. But it was a short blurb about the reporter who'd written and published the article. It read:
Jenny Jones is an investigative journalist for WSAV Georgia. She has worked for The Augusta Chronicle and Atlanta Journal-Constitution during the last 16 years. She has a husband and one young son. As the newest addition to the WSAV team, she vows to dedicate her career to the integrity of investigative journalism and describes herself as a strong supporter of "justice, equality, and empathy."
There was no photo of this woman, but it made Beth's blood boil even hotter to have a name to put with the face she was imagining in her head. Whoever this journalist was, she had no business sticking her nose into Beth's family's case and dragging up all of the lesser-known facts about the Greene's. Beth thought she wouldn't have to read about her dead mom and brother again… At least, not for a long while. She'd had hopes that the news would slowly forget about her and let her fade away, along with any interest in her family's case. For the time being, anyway – just long enough for her to get out of the country.
It also made her sick to her stomach to think of how people would see her daddy, how they might blame him for Annette's and Shawn's deaths. Beth ached for him; he couldn't handle that kind of guilt. He wasn't the evil, horrible man that Lerner and the media wanted everyone to believe he was. Beth didn't understand why no one else could see that. They all wanted a scapegoat for Shane's death and Rick's condition so badly – but they didn't know the whole story. The public wouldn't understand that Beth's daddy had done all of this to protect his family. And he was only human. Humans make mistakes. Sometimes plans don't go like they're supposed to. Sometimes things backfire.
Beth wondered if Jenny Jones was capable of investigating deep enough to come to that conclusion. And briefly, she wondered if this reporter would ever find her way to The Governor. How much digging would that take? How many people would she have to interview before she discovered that Hershel Greene was a good, God-fearing man who wanted nothing more than to provide for his family the best he could?
If you're all about integrity, then let's see what you can really find out, Beth thought.
But another part of her didn't want to know. What if this journalist raked up secrets that not even Beth knew about? There had still been plenty of aspects of her daddy's business that she hadn't quite figured out – and plenty that she had no desire to explore. Sometimes, she'd regretted all the eavesdropping she did.
Maybe I should stop reading the news, she thought, darkening the screen of her phone and setting it aside. Her eyes drifted to the TV screen but she was staring blankly, lost in her own head.
Daryl returned a few minutes later, appearing more tired than when he'd stepped away. Beth snapped back to reality and looked over at him as he stood by the couch and studied her face curiously.
"Wanna watch a movie or somethin'?" He asked.
She smiled and nodded, hoping the anxiety that was building in her gut wasn't showing on her face. "Sure – was he bein' difficult?"
Daryl nodded and plopped down on the couch next to her, resting his leg against hers and leaving no empty space between them. He sighed in exhaustion.
"He started gettin' whiny an' didn't wanna go t'bed, then he said he wanted me t'lay with him but he jus' wanted ta talk," Daryl explained, shaking his head. "Turned into a full-blown meltdown. Think he's drifted off now but he'll prob'ly wake up in a few hours… Toddlers are somethin' else."
Beth raised her eyebrows and listened, then said, "You handle it well, though. He's better behaved than a lotta kids I've seen…"
He gave a sheepish half-smile. "Thanks."
She smiled back and asked, "What movie d'you wanna watch?"
The stress that had been etched on Daryl's face seemed to slowly melt away and he grabbed the remote, pressing a few buttons and bringing up a menu. Then he handed it to Beth and looked at her expectantly. "You pick."
She took the remote hesitantly and rolled her eyes with a playful smile. "Oh, c'mon, you can't put me on the spot like this!"
He chuckled and gestured to the screen, leaning back into the cushions of the couch. "Here, I'll help – pick the horror category an' then just pick somethin' outta there. Less pressure."
Beth navigated the menu on the TV and selected the Horror option, furrowing her brow. "Oh, I dunno – these all look pretty scary…"
Daryl grunted. "That's the point."
"Mmm, I dunno, I kinda wanna be able t'sleep tonight," she joked, glancing at him with a smile.
He laughed quietly, gazing at her with an almost dreamy look in his eyes. "You'll be alright, I'll bring Mal's other nightlight in there for ya."
She giggled and looked back to the TV screen to hide the pink tint growing on her cheeks. Her stomach was fluttering again. She continued to scroll through the movie titles, occasionally pausing and reading summaries of the movies. Daryl watched her silently – she could feel his eyes on her.
After several minutes of contemplation, she selected a movie called The Exorcist and read the summary, trying to recall why the name sounded familiar. She'd never really been allowed to watch horror movies growing up, and the ones she had seen were few and far between. Admittedly, she didn't have a deep desire to watch them anyway, because it seemed most of them were about large, indestructible, scary men in masks who hunted unsuspecting victims and hacked them up. Beth felt that she'd rather watch a documentary about ocean life than another slasher flick. And though she didn't know anything about this Exorcist movie, she knew for sure that it certainly wasn't a movie that Daddy or Maggie would've allowed her to watch, at least not in their presence.
"This looks interestin' – no axe murderers or masked killers," she muttered thoughtfully, glancing back over at Daryl. "Is it really scary?"
He smirked mischievously but shrugged. "Nah, it's a… classic."
Beth quirked a brow and looked at him, waiting for him to continue, but he gestured toward the TV. "Start it – you'll see."
Despite her better judgment, she listened to him and pressed the Play button, then set the remote down and leaned back into the couch. She was about to lean into Daryl's side, but he quickly stood up from the couch. She looked over at him quizzically and realized he was rushing to the light switch and turning off the lights. The living room quickly became dark, nothing more than the dim light above the stove leaking out from the kitchen. Daryl rushed back to his seat on the couch and squeezed back into his spot beside Beth. The late evening breeze flowed in through the open windows and the screen of the TV darkened right before lighting back up, gradually, with the opening scene of the 1970s film.
Within the first few minutes of the movie, Beth had snuggled in closely against Daryl on the couch. He had one arm wrapped around her while she kept her legs curled up beneath her and rested her head on his chest. She had one arm slipped between his back and the couch while the other rested across his middle. They were both relaxed into each other, their breathing growing synchronized.
Unsurprisingly, Daryl was not to be trusted when it came to accurately describing movies. For the last seventy-five minutes of the film, Beth's fingernails were digging into Daryl's side as she gripped him with fear, eyes wide and unblinking. She couldn't tear them away, though. Multiple times, she winced or cringed, and there were a handful of times that she visibly jumped or let out a yelp. Daryl gently hushed her, laughing, but Malachi didn't wake up – thankfully. She learned exactly why she'd never seen this movie.
By the end of the film, Beth's heart was racing and she was relieved to see that it was over. She sat up and faced Daryl, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.
"You call that a classic?" She asked, feigning slight anger.
He smiled impishly and replied, "Absolutely. Aren't ya glad we watched it? We can do the Blair Witch Project next, if ya want."
Beth giggled and lightly slapped Daryl's arm playfully. "Okay, I learned my lesson – I'll pick next time. The last two hours just made up for all my years of not watching horror movies."
Daryl chuckled and reached out to snake his arm around her middle, pulling her in closer to him until she was leaning against his chest and their lips were coming together. She closed her eyes and relaxed against him, kissing him slowly and savoring the moment. Even though she'd spent most of the last two hours cringing and nearly crying from horror, it was still one of the best nights she thought she'd ever had. Ever.
Just like that, all her anxiety about Jenny Jones and the article had disappeared from her mind. How could she think about any of that when she was occupied with thinking about how she felt like she was home when Daryl and Malachi were around?
When she and Daryl pulled apart, he gazed back at her with tired, blue eyes. She smiled weakly and leaned in to kiss him again, pulling back to find a similar dreamy expression in his eyes when they reopened. He had the look on his face that she'd seen the other night – the one she didn't recognize. She still couldn't quite place it.
"Worth it," he grumbled out quietly, a tired half-smile on his lips. "Kinda cute when yer scared."
Beth smirked and rolled her eyes, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach and leaning away to sit up and grab the remote while he chuckled at her reaction. She quickly found the Animated category on the screen and selected Moana, pressing Play before Daryl could object. Then she set the remote back down and turned to look at him expectantly.
"What?" He asked.
She shrugged, leaning back and letting his arm reflexively wrap around her once more. "No objections to the Disney movie?"
He furrowed his brow and scoffed. "Me an' the boy love this movie. Maui's the man. I play that song in the shop sometimes ta annoy Dwight – but now he likes it. Caught him singin' along the other day."
Beth laughed quietly at his story, watching him smile and chuckle while he gazed at the TV screen, his eyelids drooping lower. She tried to imagine Daryl's mystery friend singing along to a Disney song in the middle of a motorcycle repair shop. The image made her laugh quietly to herself again, and she leaned into Daryl's side and relaxed while they both grew still and silent as they watched the movie.
She found her mind wandering elsewhere this time. She silently contemplated telling Daryl about the things Clem had said, and possibly the things Carol had said. She didn't really want to, though. The thought of how he'd react to finding out that she and Carol had talked about him privately made her too wary to bring it up, and even though he'd probably understand Clem's questioning, what if it made him uneasy and uncomfortable? Beth was afraid that other people would do nothing but pop their little bubble of bliss. No matter how temporary that bubble may or not be. She wanted to enjoy it as long as possible, without the interference of prying friends. Not to mention, she really didn't want to hear the opinions that would doubtlessly be shared by the others. Beth could already imagine the scowl on Rosita's face and the disgusted sneer on Tara's at the thought of Beth and Daryl being intimate – and they'd be right, she knew deep down. But for now, she wanted to remain in pleasant denial.
For tonight, none of that mattered. While she was deep in thought and staring blankly at the TV screen, Daryl's breathing had slowed and steadied, as did his heartbeat, and before long, he was lightly snoring. His arm had gone lax around Beth's middle, and she lifted her head to find his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open slightly. She smirked and gazed at him for a moment, reminding herself to save this particular image in her head.
She nudged him softly in the side until his snoring ceased and he was opening his eyes. He gave her a confused look for a second, then realized he'd drifted off.
"Should we go t'my bed?" She asked quietly.
He nodded, grunting and blinking slowly, struggling to wake up.
Beth sat up from the couch and grabbed the remote to turn off the TV while Daryl dragged himself up to his feet. Then he headed for Beth's bedroom and she followed closely behind. They didn't bother turning on any lights, leaving the bedroom door half-open and finding their way to the bed. Daryl collapsed into the mattress, slipping beneath the comforter and sliding over to make room for Beth to crawl in beside him.
They'd just gotten close and settled down beneath the covers, Daryl letting out a content sigh, when a sound coming from the hall made them both freeze. They listened closer and realized almost simultaneously that Malachi had woken up, his loud sobs carrying down the hall.
Daryl sighed again, but not in contentment. "Better go check on 'im. Mighta had an accident."
Beth nodded. He pulled off the covers and carefully climbed over her to get out of the bed, then shuffled off to the hall and disappeared into the darkness.
She listened as the crying faded away until the apartment was silent again. There were no sounds of footsteps or trips to the bathroom, and she wondered if Mal had possibly had a nightmare, or just gotten scared when he woke up and realized Daryl wasn't in bed. She knew they'd gotten lucky with their sleeping arrangement so far, but she told herself that she'd just have to accept the fact that there would be nights when they couldn't sleep together.
She wasn't sure if it was because they were preventing Malachi from telling Carol, or if they were preventing Malachi from asking about their relationship. Either way, they'd silently agreed that he wasn't ready to know. And she could only assume that was because he wouldn't understand.
Kind of like what Carol said about him not understanding why I'd leave, she thought remorsefully.
Beth wasn't sure when she fell asleep. She hadn't been watching the clock, but rather the door, awaiting Daryl's return. The apartment was dark and silent, and her eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the second. And then she was resting her eyes for just a moment, but the moment turned into a few hours instead.
Thankfully, she didn't have any dreams.
to be continued…
A/N: If you're wondering - yes, that's Jenny Jones, as in Morgan's wife. Canonically, we know nothing about her prior to The Turn, so in this universe, she's an investigative journalist and lives in Atlanta with Morgan and Duane. I don't know yet if we'll eventually see Morgan, but it's a good possibility.
If you've been reading, reviewing, favoriting, following - THANK YOU so much! Y'all keep my passion for this story going and every new review I get just gives me even more inspiration and willpower to keep going! Yes, the big reveal is within sight ;) Let me know what you thought of this chapter and what you think of Jenny Jones digging deeper into Beth's mysterious case!