Author's Note: New chapter written for you guys. Hope you enjoy it! We appreciate you all reading and discovering the mystery with us. Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. We want this story to be the best it can be for the readers. Thanks again for coming back. ~Brie

Chapter 3: I Write Sins, Not Vanity

Detective Harold Berman shook his head. When he had been awoken today at 7 am and put on his work boots and blue badge, he hadn't been expecting the mess he'd be walking into today.

It was one of the worst crimes he had ever seen, and it was made even more grisly by the fact that it was Rhonda, his childhood friend, who had been murdered.

Some psychopath had decided to throw Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, soon to be Rhonda Horowitz, off the 12th floor of the Gates hotel. Poor Rhonda had plummeted 12 floors down to an agonizing death. It was such a waste of life. Rhonda had always been a high achiever and her death was an unexpected end to her glamorous unfinished life.

Harold moved around the crime scene, pushing back the onlookers who threatened to spill past the yellow police tape around the spot in the pavement where a dead Rhonda lay. Every single bone in her body had smashed, including her skull, so that some of her brains leaked out in a nauseating pink puddle. Only her face was still in one piece. Her face was as beautiful as ever and it made even the eyes of a hardened detective like Harold water.

Rhonda's beautiful lifeless face stared upwards to the sky and to the towering Gates Hotel building, as if to accuse her killer from beyond the grave with her beautiful open eyes.

Officer Sid pulled up in his car. He was Harold's partner. They had both entered the police academy together as young rookies and stuck it out together ever since. Sid got out of the car and walked over to Harold.

"What the hell?" Sid declared. "This a tragedy. I know Rhonda was a bitch but I would never think anyone would be this brutal."

Harold took blood samples and pictures of the crime scene as the coroner's office came to collect the body. The body needed a proper examination to determine cause of death. Harold could see the cause of death just by looking at the corpse. Cause of death: Massive head explosion.

"What was she doing here at this hotel Sid? You ever know Rhonda to do anything that didn't fit into her lavish lifestyle?" Harold asked leaning down to get a close picture of the red sidewalk.

"No, even when we were in elementary school, everything she did was over the top and nauseatingly luxurious." Sid spoke as he collected hair samples from the sidewalk.

"Then what the hell was she doing in this second hand, sleazy hotel?" Harold snapped another picture of the front of the hotel. The flash went off on the brown building with the bright blue awning. The big letters on top of building read: William Gates Motel.

What was Rhonda doing here? And why would they push her from a twelfth floor hotel room? Who ever did this had a statement to make.

The question was who wouldn't want to kill Hillwood's most pinned for woman?

~/~

A sea of reporters and journalists flashed their cameras. Eugene stood in front of the podium at City Hall with his crew of suit wearing lawyers behind. Lila Sawyer stepped up to the podium next to him. She was wearing one of her best red suit-skirts from a major designer label and she knew at least half of the male reporters mouths had opened like dogs to drool over her. The camera loved her and all eyes were on her. Her big, brown eyes locked with Eugene's and she nodded at him. They had both gone over, with the aide of his lawyers, what he should say. So the words that came out of mouth were a carefully contrived speech written down on a piece of paper he held between his sweating hands.

Eugene cleared his throat and did his best to speak in an even tone, despite all the angry glares he was getting and the cameras flashing in his face. "Rhonda Wellington Lloyd was the love of my life. What happened today was the greatest tragedy possible and my heart is broken. We were due to be married in the spring. R-rhonda and I had been happy together for two years and had a beautiful future planned, and she was everything I could've asked for and more. I am devastated and….and appalled by this crime. All of Hillwood will mourn the loss of a woman who had not only a beautiful appearance but a beautiful spirit as well. I trust that Hillwood's police department will launch a full investigation and give justice to my one and only soulmate."

Helga watched the press conference from her computer at work. Looking at Eugene made her sick. The way his hair was slicked back and the amount of starch in his white dress shirt screamed forced. His "soulmate" had just been brutally murdered but he looked like he'd just walked out of a salon.

Helga knew Eugene and he was a nervous wreck since she met him. Eugene couldn't even handle a bug flying in the classroom let alone the murder of his girlfriend. Here on the screen he was composed, masculine, and giving off all the bravado he could in the eye of the reporters. He was definitely hiding more than he let on.

Eugene stepped back from the podium. The district attorney for Hillwood, Olivia Mendez, stepped up to the mic.

"A full scale investigation has been launched and this murderer will be found. Detective Berman and Officer Side of Hillwood City's Police Department are the lead investigators on this case. I assure you that Ms. Lloyd will receive justice. The coroner has ruled out suicide and has determined the cause of death as the massive head trauma she received before she hit the pavement. Yes, Ms. Lloyd was attacked before she was thrown off the building, there was evidence of a struggle. At this time we are investigating the suspects but we respect the rights of our current suspects to remain anonymous until further evidence is uncovered."

There was an eruption of gasps and protests at this. Eugene shifted uncomfortably. But the district attorney continued her speech unphased by the protests.

"Rest assured that we will find the killer. When we do the charges are as followed: First Degree Manslaughter in the case of Ms. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd and Involuntary Manslaughter in the case of Ms. Lloyd's unborn fetus. The maximum sentence being life in prison with no chance of parole. At this time no other details of Ms. Lloyd's murder can be disclosed and I would ask the public to respect the privacy the police need to continue their investigation. Thank you."

Helga clicked back to her word document to finish up the medical journal she was working on. Rhonda was pregnant! Leave it to Rhonda to never leave things conventional. Her pregnancy ended in a homicide, not a new life.

Lucky she changed the tab when she did. Her boss walked into her office asking if the journal was almost done. It was 11:24am. She had another 2 hours before the deadline. She could write this in her sleep. Truth is she hated her job. She was a creative butterfly and burned to write a novel of grand proportions. She cringed at the terrible love poem she used to write about her current roommate, Arnold. To think she was head over heels in love with him and years later they live together in a platonic relationship.

"Almost done boss man. Just putting my finishing touches on the piece." Helga took out her pink ribbon that tied her ponytail, something she often did when she was lying.

"Hey, you heard about that rich girl who fell from that building downtown?" Her boss smirked a bit. "The most action happening in Hillwood in years, don't you think?"

She slammed her fists against the keyboard. He was so insensitive and so clueless. "Her name was Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, you prick and she was a friend!"

"Whoa Helga didn't know. I didn't mean to upset you. Listen, you can take the day off and I'll have someone else finish the journal if you need time off."

Helga gladly accepted the offer. Every second she spent at work was a wasted one.

With her time off she could go visit Hillwood's most hated man: Eugene Horowitz. She needed answers and she wasn't about to wait for the police to get them for her.

~/~

Arnold Shortman couldn't get Helga's tear filled face out of his mind, even when he was at his internship. People were asking for coffee left and right at the Daily Globe. Arnold couldn't get the mugs ready fast enough.

People were running around frantically trying to break the news on Hillside's Dorothy Hale murder as they called it. Rhonda's name was coming from people's mouths, people who never even met her. This was a newspaper, not a gossip magazine. Arnold stayed calm, but some of the things people were saying was making him upset.

"Did you hear about the rich girl Rhonda? I heard she was cheating on her fiance and that's why he killed her."

"I heard she was pregnant by another man."

"I heard she was at the hotel for a secret abortion, but Eugene found out and killed her in a crime of passion."

"She was getting drugs. The only reason you go to that part of downtown is to either get drugs or get a prostitute."

"Yeah that Rhonda probably has been passed around to all the rich men in town. She lucked up and got pregnant. That's the only reason Horowitz would have even considered marrying a women like her."

As he poured his probably 18th cup of coffee for another coworker his boss, Gerald Johanssen entered the kitchen area. He and Gerald had been best friends since elementary school. When Arnold told Gerald he wanted to start a career in journalism Gerald, who happened to be the start reporter at the Daily Globe, got Arnold an internship the next day. Yes, at work Gerald was his boss but he was his best friend first and foremost.

"Hey Arnold." He rolled the sleeves up on his blue button up to reveal his forearms covered with tattoos. "Man, how are you holding up?"

Arnold whispered very low so that no one would overhear them. "People are saying the most horrible things about Rhonda that just aren't true Gerald. The woman is dead and all they're talking about is their own terrible assumptions of her. It isn't right."

"It's messed up man, I know. Rhonda was a friend, but don't get too bothered by what other people say. Between me and you I think this is what Rhonda would have wanted. She would have wanted all the attention on her, even after death."

"Gerald! That-"

Gerald cut him off. Arnold was starting to get a little loud. "Listen. I know it's hard to deal with but I have a job to do. I have to break the story to the entire city, so I'll say what I need to to keep the readers interested. I'll pay my respects to her at the funeral or something when my job isn't on the line. Truth is people don't care about the vanity stories about how good a person she was; they want to know about her sins. I'll worry about how Rhonda is portrayed to the people of Hillwood. You just keep pouring coffee. Alright man?"

Arnold was speechless. His best friend was seriously considering defaming Rhonda's character just for more readers. He should be out trying to write about justice and the truth. He should be helping to find Rhonda's murderer.

What was he saying? It wasn't his or Gerald's job to find justice. That was up to the police, but Arnold was starting to think that the circumstances of this case were a little suspicious himself. On the day she announces her engagement to Eugene she's flung from a building with an unborn child in her belly. Why was she at the hotel? Who was there with her? Did Eugene kill her or was it someone else, someone from the past?

Arnold went back to pouring coffee like Gerald told him to. None of this was his business. What was his business was getting out of this internship on time so he could make it to work at the bar on time tonight. Rent was due soon and Helga would be pissed if he didn't come up with his half.

~/~

All of the old PS 118 crews's phones buzzed at the same time from around the city. Phoebe Heyerdahl, Arnold Shortman, Helga Pataki, Harold Berman, Stinky Peterson, and Sid's phones all received the same message:

From: Eugene Horowitz

You are invited to the funeral of Ms. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd on Friday at the Divine Truth Church. Please respond to this message if you are attending. Funeral will start at 1:00pm and her burial will happen shortly after. Rhonda wouldn't want us to be so depressed so let's celebrate her life at my home, the Horowitz estate that same day at 6:00pm. I want this to be a small party with just the PS 118 crew. I think she would've liked that. Rhonda always said this quote and I think it fits: "No one dies without scars. No one dies without a story left to tell." Let's continue to write Rhonda's story together.

Rhonda certainly had an unfinished story to be told and Helga was going to do anything to find it out. Next stop the Horowitz Estate. Eugene would probably be surprised to see her before Friday but Helga had a mission to achieve.