Page 1 of Wicked Scandal

PROLOGUE

Breaking News: Willow Creek’s Mayor Jenkins Dead at Age 39.

Troy Jenkins, mayor of Willow Creek, was found deceased late last night from an apparent gunshot wound. Police crews were called to his home on Merry Lane at 10:13 p.m. after an anonymous call tipped off law enforcement. Investigators are working to determine if foul play is a factor in the mayor’s death.

This news comes as a shock, not only to the residents he served, but also to those who worked closely with him.

“Willow Creek will not be the same without him,” says life-long resident, Bob Denver.

Mayor Jenkins's former assistant, Beth Hill, also expressed her disbelief. “I have no words. It’s such a shock,” she told reporters. “Mayor Jenkins was such a generous and kind man. He’ll be deeply missed.”

Jenkins is one of two mayoral candidates in the 2024 election, set to be held November 8th. His opponent, Grant Cromwell, was not available for comment at this time; however, his campaign manager, Jillian Hancock, has informed reporters that he is prepared to step in as mayor of this beloved town.

Details to follow as they become available.

Catherine

Seven Months Earlier

October 19, 2023

My head snaps to the side, pain cutting across my face as my husband lashes out at me. He is usually more careful, more in control. He hardly ever hits me on the face, but apparently tonight I really pissed him off.

I already know what started this one. I was late. I got caught up with a student, helping him finish an essay he’s been working on. Even though Troy said he’d be working late tonight, I should have paid closer attention to the time. Nonetheless, he showed up in my classroom and pulled me away like a disobedient child. I’m not sure how I’ll ever face Wilder, my student, again. It was humiliating.

I take full responsibility, though. I should have known better. I’m just glad he waited until we got home to do anything about it. Had he hurt me at the school, I would never have been able to hide it. And I have become a professional at hiding.

Some days I don’t know what makes Troy rage. Was dinner too cold? Was the house not clean enough? It’s hard to put a finger on what sets him off. Though, I’ve learned the dos and don’ts with him over the years.

It’s not always like this. With the election year coming up, Troy is stressed. I’m not making excuses for his behavior, but the upcoming months before his campaign can be taxing for him.

This will mark our third election year together, and I know there is a light at the end of this very dark tunnel. I just hope I make it out alive because each term he gets worse. He never used to put his hands on me. It was alwaysjust a lot of yelling, but one day I yelled back and he snapped. For a while, though, I believed I deserved it.

But eight years and two terms later, I have realized that Troy’s anger has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him.

Troy’s hand shoots up in a fit of anger, his features twisted with rage. I instinctively flinch and lower my head, shrinking away from the blow of his open palm.

“You’re worthless, Catherine!” His blistering voice echoes off the walls of our bedroom just before he sends a sharp smack to the back of my head. “I don’t even know why I keep you around anymore.”

My ears ring and I stumble backward until my back collides with the closet door. I reach behind me, searching for the handle as hot tears of anger stream down my face. Sadness, terror, and agony no longer consume me. I haven’t felt those things in years.

Now, I only burn with an inexplicable fury. I’ve contained the rage that has been building inside me as I do what is demanded of me day in, day out. But I fear I’ll explode at any given moment and do something I’ll immediately regret. Or maybe I won’t regret it at all.

Pulling the door open, I step forward, jaw clenched as I glower back at him.

“Oh,” he laughs menacingly. “Are you going to hide now?” The cocksure grin on his face unnerves me.

Lips pressed tightly, I exhale through my flared nostrils. “I don’t hide. I simply walk away.”

“You hide. And the reason you hide is because you’re a coward. A worthless fucking coward.” He shakes his head disappointedly. “Come on, Catherine. Fight back. Hit me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Temptation claws at my insides. I’d love more than anything to punch him square in the face.

Troy steps into my space, his hot breath fanning my face as he laughs again. “You’re too much of a chicken shit, aren’t you? You thought you could stay back and help your little student, all the while letting me suffer at home alone. I should have put him in his place when I came to retrieve you. You are mine, Catherine.”

My hand shoots forward, fingers splayed wide as my palm connects with his cheek. I couldn’t help it. The thought of him hurting Wilder, or any of my students, makes the fury in my veins boil over.

Troy takes a step back, a hand going to his face where my palm left a red mark. I can’t allow him to think about it, though. If he realizes I reacted out of fear for someone else and not myself, he will have another thing to threaten me with, and soon, he would no longer be just my problem. I can’t let that happen.

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