[Veritas]

You're just starting to hate her??

[The unnamed one]

Nice update .....

[Smurf]

Great Chapter i really don't like Angela's Sister ,can't wait to read more

[Veritas]

Angela simply stood there by the open car, staring at Bianca. "How did...?" she stammered nervously. "What's going on?"

"You tell me," Bianca retorted.

"Bianca," Angela said with forced calm, "I swear I never saw these things before in my life! I have no idea how they got there--"

She stopped in midsentence, the truth revealing itself in her mind. "You!" she exclaimed. "You put those things in my car! It was you who stole that donation money from the auction in the first place, and now you're trying to frame me for it! Even for you, this is a new low!"

Bianca was suddenly indignant. "Lies! Lies! Lies! Mother always said 'Lies make the angels cry'! First you steal money from your own shelter, then you try to pin it on me! How can you do such a thing to your own sister?"

"Because it's true!" Angela shot back.

"Prove it!"

"I will!" Angela grabbed the bundle of envelopes from the front seat. "I'm going to return this to Pastor Bob and tell him about you and your little theft!" she said angrily.

"You think he'll believe you?"

"Of course he will! He trusts me!"

"Not after today, he will."

"What are you talking about?"

Again the pitying tone. "Oh, Angela, you are so naive. If you go to your Pastor Bob and tell him you found the money in your car, he's going to think you were lying to him all along."

"But you were the one who put it there," Angela argued.

"How do you know I did?" Bianca challenged. "Did you actually see me put it in your car? Huh? Did you?"

"Well, no, but--"

Bianca spread out her arms in triumph. "There! You see? You have no proof! The money was in your car, along with the turban and the dark glasses. Therefore, you are the thief! The evidence is as plain as day!

"Circumstantial evidence," Angela countered. "It won't hold up in any court."

Bianca smiled slyly. "Oh, it will. Especially with your fingerprints all over the envelopes."

Angela looked at the bundle of envelopes and tossed them fearfully back into the car as if it was contaminated. Bianca laughed derisively. "Too late now, little sister," she gloated. "You are totally busted on this one! Unless..."

"Unless, what?" Angela demanded.

The sly smile brightened. "Unless you surrender your trust fund to me, " Bianca said.

Angela was aghast. "What?"

Bianca leaned closer. "You heard me. You sign over your trust fund to me, the shelter gets its donations back without incident, and nobody will know a thing. If you don't, then I go to the police, tell them that you made off with the donation money that night, they find your fingerprints all over the envelopes, and sweet little Angela Honi is busted for theft. The school board won't look too kindly upon you after that; they'll fire you so fast it'll make your head spin. And just think what this will do to your relationship with George. He'll be sooooo heartbroken to learn that his girlfriend is a thief and a liar!"

Angela stood there, stunned into silence. This wasn't the first time Bianca had blackmailed her, but now the stakes were too high for her to gamble: she had started a new life with a new love, and she was seeing it crumble before her eyes. Bianca was too clever and too devious: she would find a way to outsmart her at every move. Yet she had to fight back, she had to! Her trust fund was her future and she dared not lose it, not by any circumstances.

Bianca sensed Angela's discomfort. "I know this is a very serious issue for you," she said patronizingly, "but that's the way things stand. Do yourself a favor: do what I say, and you'll spare yourself a lot of grief." A burst of maganminity came forth. "Tell you what--I'll give you twenty-four hours to think about it, sleep on it. I'll be back here tomorrow, same time, same place. I'm sure you'll do the right thing."

With that, she sailed back to her silver Lexus parked nearby, deactivated the anti-theft device with the remote on her keychain, got in and drove away, leaving Angela leaning against her Chevette, weeping uncontrollably.




"You-have-reached...5-5-5--3-6-4-5. Please leave a message after the tone, or press five for more options."

"Hey, Angie, this is Darlene. Where you been, girl? You're usually home by now! Gimme a call when you get this, okay? 'Bye."

Darlene hung up and waited for a reply. And waited. And waited...



It was six PM when George's cell phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello, George? This is Darlene."

"Oh, hi, Darlene. What's up?"

"Is Angela with you?"

"Angie?" George shook his head. "Nope, haven't seen her since the presentation."

"Well, she's usually home by this time, and I haven't seen her since this afternoon. I called her on her cell phone, but all I got was voicemail."

"Well, maybe she's out shopping or something."

"No, no, no, she's always home by this time. You could set your watch by her."

"Look, Dar, I wouldn't worry about her. She's a grown woman who can take care of herself. She'll be home soon, so just chill out, willya?"

"All right. If you see her, tell her to give me a call, okay?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, George. 'Bye."

"Yeah, 'bye."

George flipped off his phone and stuffed it into his pocket. She must really be worried, he thought. She didn't mention Criss once.




The shelter's office phone rang loudly. Pastor Bob picked it up before the first ring faded. "Sanctuary Shelter, Pastor Beaman speaking."

"Pastor Bob? This is Darlene Milliken."

"Oh, hello, Darlene. What can I do for you?"

"Have you seen Angela? She didn't come home this evening. I tried calling her twice, but she didn't pick up. You know if she's still there at the shelter?"

The pastor paused as he looked out the window overlooking the parking lot. "Nope, don't see her car there. Guess she's gone. Why?"

"Well, she's usually home by now, but I haven't seen her since our shift today."

"Well, I think it's a little premature to go filing a missing person's report just yet," the pastor chuckled. "She probably had to run an errand or something. I'm sure she'll return home soon."

"Thanks, Pastor."

"You're welcome."




Darlene found Angela's old home number in her dog-eared phone book. She hesitated to dial it, knowing who would answer, but her concern for Angela overruled her her misgivings. She pressed the right combination of numbers on the tiny keypad quickly before she could change her mind, then waited for an answer. A part of her hoped it would go to voicemail so she would be spared speaking to Bianca.

The line stopped its buzzing. "Hello?" a woman's voice spoke over the receiver.

"Hello, Bianca?"

"Who is this?" Bianca snapped impatiently.

Geez, bite my head off, why don't you? "Bianca, this is Darlene Milliken."

"Who?"

"Darlene Milliken. Angela's friend from the shelter and now roommate, remember?"

"Oh." Bianca's tone fell flat. "You."

"Yeah, me. Say, listen, have you seen your sister this afternoon?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I do! Have you seen her or not?"

"Well, maybe I have, and maybe I haven't? What's it to you?"

Darlene's fury swelled to the bursting point. "Don't play games with me, Bianca! I want to know what happened to Angela! Now, are you going to co-operate with me or not?"

"Well, if you're going to take that tone of voice with me..."

"Where the hell is Angela??" Darlene exploded.

"How should I know where she is?" Bianca shot back. "For all I know, she ran off with the money she stole from the donation box from the auction last Friday!"

"Ran off with the..." Darlene was stunned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, come now, don't play innocent with me," Bianca retorted. "She was the one who stole all that money. Everyone knows it. A woman in a white dress, turban and dark glasses was caught on tape swiping the contents. Angela was wearing a white dress, was she not?"

"Well, yeah, but so were a lot of other women! It could have been any one of them!"

"Was it?"

"Yeah!"

"Then why did I see the money in Angela's car this afternoon, along with that same turban and glasses?"

Darlene was flabbergasted. "What??"

"It's true. I saw the evidence before my very eyes. She's guilty as sin. That's why she's not home. She took the money and ran!"

"You're lying!" Darlene shrieked. "Angie would never, ever do such a thing! Not in a million, billion years! If you ask me, someone planted that stuff in her car to frame her!"

"Someone like yourself, perhaps?"

Now Darlene's outrage was complete. "You lying (bleep)! I was nowhere near that box! And besides, I was wearing a black dress that evening, so I'm completely innocent!"

"That may be so, but if you're covering up for her, that makes you an accomplice, an accessory to the crime. You can go to jail for that."

"Oh, look who's talking! A woman who threw her own sister off a balcony getting all high-handed about law and order! You should be in jail, you (bleep)!"

Bianca responded with a silvery laugh. "After I go to the police and report the theft, we'll see who lands in jail. Do you think the two of you can survive prison? Well, maybe you can, but Angela won't last an hour with those (bleeps) behind bars."

"You've got nothing against me, or Angie for that matter!"

"Don't I? Why did Angela run off in the first place? That's a clear sign of guilt right there, you know. They'll find her and the money, and she'll be trading in her white gown for prison orange. And you'll be busted right along with her as her accomplice."

"You really think the police are going to buy all that BS you're spreading?"

"Of course they will. The evidence is all on tape. That, and my deposition. They have to believe me."

"I sure as hell don't!"

"Does it matter if they do? What good is your word against solid evidence?"

"Better than yours. They cleared me that very night when I was questioned by security. Same with Angie. They searched her and didn't find a thing."

"How do you know she didn't hide the loot somewhere? Or hid it in her car that night?"

A sense of triumph surged through Darlene. "Ha! Gotcha!" she crowed. "She didn't drive her car that night! George picked her up in his Rover! That clears her right there!"

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Did you drive with George and Angela, or by yourself?"

"What business is that of yours?"

"Just answer the question."

"I drove myself. There, are you happy now?"

"So you are an accomplice."

"What the hell do you mean, I'm an accomplice?"

"Isn't it obvious? Angela stole the money from the box, went out and put it in your car. Then, when you and she were at the shelter today, she retrieved it from your car and placed it in her own. Case closed."

Darlene's jaw dropped. "That is the most convoluted logic I ever heard, Bianca, and I don't know why I'm wasting my time talking to you. I'm going to find Angie and prove you wrong!"

"Fine," Bianca said drily. "And when you do, tell her I'm waiting for her answer."

"Answer to what?"

But Bianca had already hung up, leaving Darlene as puzzled as she was angry. She slammed down the receiver and grabbed her purse. I'm going to find Angie if I have to tear up all of Vegas to do it! she vowed. I've got to find her before it's too late.

[RACHEL02189]

I'm ready to kill her

[The unnamed one]

Bianca is an idiot ..... It's her DNA on the sunglasses and her hair on the scarf ...... Angie only touched the envelopes

[RACHEL02189]

Originally Posted by The unnamed one

Bianca is an idiot ..... It's her DNA on the sunglasses and her hair on the scarf ...... Angie only touched the envelopes

good point there

[Smurf]

Great Chapter i really hope Bianca get what coming to her soon can't wait to read more

[Veritas]

A gentle rap on the clergyman's office door caught Pastor Bob's attention, if only for a moment. "Who is it?" he called out, still fixated on the paperwork scattered all over the desk.

"Bob?" he heard his wife's voice speak softly through the wooden door. "May I come in?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, Adele," he said, "come on in."

Adele Beaman stepped into the office. Her husband looked up and smiled at her. She was not only his wife of thirty-three years, but his helpmate and partner in founding and maintaining Sanctuary Shelter, serving as secretary, receptionist, fund-raiser, chief cook, laundress, day-care supervisor and Bible study teacher. She had given up so much of her time and energy to helping the homeless without a thought of her own needs; a lesser woman would have collapsed from fatigue, if not quit altogether. The shelter would have shut down long ago if not for Adele's tireless efforts working at her husband's side to keep it going despite the lack of funds. Pastor Bob could not help but wonder if her faith was stronger than his as far as the mission was concerned.

Now she stood there, a stack of envelopes in her hand, her weathered face grim as a criminal jury. Sensing something was amiss, Pastor Bob merely asked, "Something wrong?"

Adele set the stack of envelopes onto the already littered desk. "I found these in one of the clothing donation bins," she explained, "with a note attached to it. Someone dropped 'em through the chute."

Pastor Bob adjusted his reading glasses and unwound the rubber band binding the envelopes. They varied in size, from three-by-fives to standard business nine-and-a-half-by-fours. One of the latter had Criss Angel's name written all over it, accompanied by blue-ink valentine hearts and other strange looking doodles. Curious, he opened it and found a total of one hundred dollars in ones, fives, tens and a couple of twenties. The pastor rubbed his nose thoughtfully. "You found this in the clothing bin, you say?"

"I did," Adele confirmed, "about half an hour ago. I was gathering up the clothing donations when I found it lying there."

"And there was a note, you said?"

"That's right."

"Did you read it?"

"I did. It's from Angela Honi, the teacher."

Pastor Bob recalled the telephone call he had received earlier from Darlene Milliken about Angela' disappearance. He grew concerned. "Where's the note?" he asked.

Adele pulled it from the pocket of her work smock. "Right here," she said, handing it to her husband.

He took the note, unfolded it and read it:

Dear Pastor,

Here is the money that was stolen from the donation box from the auction. I found it in my car this afternoon. I think my sister Bianca stole it and now she is trying to frame me for it. I can't prove anything right now, but please believe I am innocent.

Angela

"So, what do you make of it?" Adele asked.

Pastor Bob shook his head. "I can't say for sure," he replied. "But I'm gonna call Darlene and tell her what happened. Maybe Angela's home already, I don't know. One thing's for sure--we're gonna clear up this mystery once and for all, Lord willing and the crick don't rise."




Darlene raced to the Luxor as fast as the evening traffic would allow. Angie had to be with George, she convinced herself, she just had to be. She had no doubt that Angela would turn to the man she loved in this time of crisis. She was probably scared off by that (bleep) of a sister of hers, threatening her with the same BS conspiracies that Darlene had hurled against her earlier. Poor Angela was so scared of her that she'd do anything to escape. But why didn't she just come back to the apartment instead of running off like that? And what did Bianca mean by "waiting for her answer"? And how did she even know about the theft in the first place? The whole thing had been hushed up by Pastor Bob and the hotel. It didn't even make the papers. The only way she could have known about it was either by forcing it out of Angela herself...

Or Bianca was there that night at the auction!

The shock of recognition nearly sent her colliding into the SUV in front of her; she slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid plowing into it.
Suddenly, the whole puzzle fell into place: Bianca had been at the auction, and she saw the real thief who stole the money! Instead of reporting it, she used it to her advantage to get back her sister! But no, that didn't make sense. Why would she use someone else to hurt Angie when she could have used a more direct approach?

Unless it was Bianca who stole the money in the first place.

Yes! That was it! It was Bianca who stole the money from the donation box, to set up her sister for a fall! Why else would she go to a function she knew her sister would be attending? She was so eager to see not only her sister but herself, Darlene, ruined and humiliated, undoubtedly taking revenge for that balcony toss a few weeks ago. Payback was a (bleep), and her name was Bianca Honi.

Armed with this new revelation, Darlene made her impatient way toward the Luxor. If she couldn't find Angie there, she could at least warn George about it. God forbid that mad-dog (bleep) should implicate him as well.




George, meanwhile, was with Criss and the technical crew in the editing room, going over the tapes of their show at Sanctuary Shelter: keep this, delete that, bleep this out, edit that for content; oh, this is a good opening shot, start with that; blur out their faces when this airs so as to avoid lawsuits--so much material to fit into forty-five minutes of air time. He watched a street scene of some tough-looking youths strolling aggressively down a sidewalk, and recognized them immediatly. "Hey, Criss," he said, poking his cousin in the ribs, "those guys look familiar to you?"

Criss rewound the tape and watched the scene again, closer this time. "Hey, yeah," he said, nodding, "those are the same (bleepers) who tried to charge us parking fees at the shelter this morning." He chuckled a bit. "Coincidence."

"You want to air it?" George asked.

"Me?" Criss snorted. "Hell, no! I ain't giving those (bleepers) any free publicity!" He turned to the taping editor sitting before the screen. "Edit that out, Manny," he ordered him.

Manny nodded and set about sending the four punks to the cutting room floor. Criss stood upright, grimacing from the pain of having been in a ninety-degree position for almost an hour. George felt the need to stretch as well as the need for nourishment. "Hey, how about grabbing a bite to eat?" he suggested. "I'm starved."

Criss cracked his neck. "Later," he replied. "I wanna get this in the can ay-ess-ay-pea."

George shrugged. "Okay, fine," he said. "I'm gonna get a sandwich or something."

There was no protest on Criss' part, so George took his leave. He yearned for a double bacon cheeseburger with the works, but his boxer's training forbade it as too fattening. Instead, he would have to settle for a lean roast beef sandwich on an onion roll, light on the mayo. No sodas, as those contained too much sugar and the carbonation ate into his gut; he decided on Gatorade instead. Or maybe pure juice: he needed the vitamin C. He set his sights for the small deli just past the atrium, the perfect place to get what he needed.

As he walked toward the deli, he heard a woman's voice call out his name. Thinking it was an overanxious Loyal at first, he pretended not to hear so he could eat his lunch in peace. But the voice called out again, and this time it sounded familiar. Was it Angie? he wondered. He turned around and saw not Angie but Darlene, her roommate, racing up the escalator toward him, her face white as a sheet. "George!" she called out breathlessly. "I need to see you!"

George walked toward her. "Darlene? That you? What's the deal?"

Darlene paused to catch her breath. "I...I think I know why Angela disappeared," she panted. "It's Bianca."

"Bianca? What about Bianca?"

"She's setting her up for stealing that donation money," Darlene blurted out. "She said something about 'waiting for an answer' from Angie. George, I think she's the one responsible for all this."

"You tried calling her on her cell phone?"

"I tried and tried, but I couldn't get an answer." Darlene clung to George's muscle shirt. "George! You got to help me! You got to help Angela! We got to find her before it's too late!"

George floundered helplessly. "Well, sorry, Darlene, but I--"

Suddenly, Darlene's cell phone played the MindFreak theme song inside her purse. "That's probably her right now," George said.

Hoping against hope, Darlene fumbled in her purse for her cellphone and flipped it open. "Hello, Angie?" she spoke anxiously into the receiver.

"Uh, no, this is Pastor Bob," the other party replied.

Darlene's face fell a couple of inches, but she did not give up hope. "It's Pastor Bob," she told George. "Yeah, Pastor, what is it? Did you find Angie?"

"Well, no, not exactly," the pastor hedged. "She did return the donation money, though. She said she found it in her car."

"In her car?" Darlene was bewildered. Again she turned to George. "He says Angie found the money in her car."

George pondered this new development. "I smell a set-up," he muttered.

Darlene turned back to Pastor Bob. "What else did she say? Did she say where she was going?"

"Didn't say anything of the sort," the pastor replied, "except she claims that her sister might have stolen it, but she didn't have any proof."

Darlene felt justified in her assessment about Bianca. "I knew it!" she exclaimed. "I knew it had to be Bianca!"

"Had to be Bianca what?" George wanted to know.

"Bianca stole the money from the box and now she's trying to frame Angie for it," Darlene relayed to him. "I knew it had to be her all along!"

"Gimme the phone!" George demanded.

"What?"

"Just gimme the phone!"

Darlene handed George her phone. He raised it to his ear. "Pastor? This is George Strumpolis. What's this about Angie getting blackmailed by her sister?"

"I didn't say nothin' about her gettin' blackmailed," the pastor protested. "I'm just sayin' that the donation money was found in her car, and ended up in one of the clothing bins with a note. Didn't see her or nothin'."

"What exactly did the note say?"

There was a pause on the other end. "It says, 'Dear Pastor, here is the money that was stolen from the donation box from the auction. I found it in my car this afternoon. I think my sister Bianca stole it and now she is trying to frame me for it. I can't prove anything right now, but please believe I am innocent. Angela'. That's all she wrote."

"So now you've got the money back, right?"

"Seems so," the pastor answered. "But I still don't know what happened to Angela. Last I saw her, she was outside her classroom, talking to her sister. Haughty woman she was, all dressed up like the Queen of Sheba. She accused Angela outright of stealing the money, but I knew she was innocent. Still do, as a matter of fact. But how it ended up in her car is a mystery to me."

"It's obvious, Pastor," George said. "Bianca planted it there. She had the money all along."

"Now let's not go pointing fingers at anyone before we have proof," the pastor admonished him.

"Proof?" George echoed. "You want proof? Come down to the security office here at the Luxor and I'll show you proof! They got it all on tape! Whoever that woman in white was, it wasn't Angie!"

"Well, we'll let the police worry about that," Pastor Bob said. "We got to find Angela before something happens to her."

"Well, we'll keep calling her on this end," George told him, "and you keep calling on yours. We'll find her, don't worry. She couldn't have gone far. Not in that bucket she drives." he added facetiously.

The pastor agreed. "All right, then, we'll keep calling. I pray we find her safe and sound."

"Amen to that, Pastor," George said.

He handed Darlene back her phone. She quickly said goodbye and folded it up. "So, what do we do now?" she asked.

"You just keep calling her on her cell phone and back at the apartment," George replied. "Me? I'm gonna get something to eat so I can think clearly." He turned and headed for the deli.

Darlene was appalled. "Eat!" she exclaimed. "You can't eat now! Angie's lost out there and we got to find her!"

George whirled around to face her. "How?" he snapped. "How are we gonna find her? Where are we gonna look? Vegas is a helluva big city with over a million people! How are you gonna find just one person around here?"

Seeing the hurt look on Darlene's face, he softened his tone. "Look," he said, laying his hands on her shoulders, "far as I know, she's probably back at the apartment. Maybe you should go back there and see. I'm sure she's okay."

Darlene nodded wearily. "Yeah, maybe you're right," she acquiesced. "Maybe I'm making a big deal over this. Angie wouldn't run off if she was innocent, right?"

"Of course she wouldn't," a chillingly familiar voice spoke up from behind. "It only proves she's guilty."

George and Darlene spun around, startled. There stood Bianca, smug as ever in one of her designer suits. "It seems this little conspiracy is getting more interesting by the hour," she purred. "With a little love triangle thrown in for good measure. How romantic."

[The unnamed one]

Nice update veritas