Turn Me Inside Out

In Episode 8, Michael sees the duality of Kenzie’s divided soul – her creative genius that wins the hearts of music lovers and her insatiable war against injustice that trashes anyone in her way.  Making it clear to Michael she’s coming for him, his survival instincts switch to attack mode.  The detectives get answers for the strange evidence found in the missing boy’s clothing – a red strand of hair and a diamond earring. Driven by a compulsive need to protect, Kenzie stalks Cherise, confronting her with the truth about Michael's dark, sickening tastes.

Turn on and tune in to Darkside Thrillers Radio Drama, Season 1.  It’s all about KEPT by Gem Wodahl, an immersive, eight-week, serialized audio thriller that straps you into the trendy city of Waverly, gripped by unexplained disappearances, and a twelve-year-old boy who slips away without a trace.   The tunnel system under a cathedral is off limits, but when an eighteen-year old trespasser stumbles upon a hunter’s trophy, she falls into a psychological sink hole, recklessly starting a war against a sociopathic liar.  As she struggles to find truth, her own world is slowly crumbling with an estranged family, loneliness and medical alerts.  Kenzie Pratt wears her cancer like an eviction notice tattooed across her forehead.  With a shortened life-span, she’s volatile and dangerous.   KEPT swallows you into the lives of three sociopaths – one who hunts for pleasure, one who hunts for justice, and one who kills to stop her.  Oh, and I forgot to mention the two bloodhound detectives who won’t give up, and a steamy love arc that one of the sociopaths can’t live without.  Or can he?  Welcome listeners.  You are the magic!

Host Elijah Summerfield

Producer/Network   Darkside Thrillers Radio Drama

Author and Narrator Gem Wodahl

This is a Darkside Thrillers production.

Original lyrics and music by Grace Note Music Design

Special thanks to Pixabay artists.

Email: chatwithdarksidethrillers@gmail.com

KEPT by Gem  Wodahl , available June 18  in stores and your favourite podcast platform.

eBook:  ISBN:  978-0-9881651-3-7 

Print book:  ISBN:  978-0-9881651-4-4

Audible (the full radio drama)  ISBN: 978-0-9881651-8-2 

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Transcript

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SPEAKER_08 0:08

This is Dark Side Thrillers, your weekly turn-on and tune-in to serialized fiction, taking you into those bone-chilling moments when humanity twists beyond the point of no return. Who hasn't taken a short cut down a back alley you thought you'd survive? But then there's that noise of rustling leaves, and you just know. I am your host, Elijah Summerfield, welcoming you to Dark Side Thrillers, Season 1. It begins with Kept, an eight-week serialized thriller by Jem Woodall. You get hooked into the lives of three sociopaths. One who kills, one who hunts for truth, and one who will kill to hide it. Among bones and trophies under a cathedral, there's a kept secret with an appetite to hunt.

SPEAKER_01 1:37

Adult content, audience discretion advised.

SPEAKER_12 1:42

In last week's episode, Kenzie's appetite for justice took her inside Sharice and Michael's love affair, while startling evidence surfaced in forensics reports. And Kenzie couldn't escape a video call from family. A rare bonding moment. Episode eight. Opening her eyes, she watched the sunrise sparkle into existence. There was a calm that took hold, as if an unspoken truce had been finessed for this day of music and applause. She had been living without it for so long. But on this day, she let it take hold. She could feel her arms, hands, fingers relax in the sun's warmth, and wondered if Newbold felt the same. She stretched and went for an unadvised, chilly dip before heading upstairs for her warm-up exercises, necessary for blood flow, muscle control, nerve gliding, rotations, and breathing. There was a time when her dad did these exercises with her before a concert, when the cancer and chemo hadn't immobilized her with rage and jealousy and premeditative sabotage. Justin had been gentle, had pampered her, until diagnoses were saturated death warrants. She couldn't remember if she pushed him away or if he fled her pain. And, well, her mother searched for love beyond the estate, far away from her. Before deciding on makeup and her final wardrobe selection, Kenzie's physiotherapist scheduled a massage at ten for neck and hand tensions. She enlisted Roman's help in deciding on which dress. Together, they chose the hot pink braided cap, embellished with small pearls, a cape-shouldered gray satin dress with a puddled gathered hemline that was both fun and sexy, unlike her life, and pink leather platform boots. When all rituals were done, she called Rosa, one of her dad's drivers and mother figure, and was gone by 11:30. But in a split second, she ditched the chemo cap and went natural. A short brush cut with more than a few new white hairs.

SPEAKER_03 4:56

What do you think, Rosa? Cap or a brush cut?

SPEAKER_12 5:00

Rosa looked in the mirror and smiled.

SPEAKER_05 5:04

Definitely, no cap. Brush cut. Because you have a perfectly shaped cranium. Right. Am I right?

SPEAKER_03 5:13

I guess like Jason Statham's. I can live with that.

SPEAKER_12 5:18

She looked once more at herself and grabbed her violin case, her purse, and two gift bags.

SPEAKER_03 5:27

See you around four then. Bring the kids over for a swim. There's lots of junk food, too. Love you.

SPEAKER_12 5:36

She had learned these things about Rosa. That she was there in her life to stay. That she wouldn't put up with her shit shows, and she'd hold Kenzie in her arms during her worst times of isolation.

SPEAKER_05 5:53

Love you too. You are too good to me, Braddy Pratty. Have fun. I'll stream the concert later.

SPEAKER_12 6:02

She extended her hand for Kenzie to squeeze. The cellist and bassist were warming up when she arrived. Genuinely, she greeted them and handed each one a gift bag they were not expecting. Some gift cards, concert tickets in Toronto, and a monetary gift of 1,000 each. They beamed at her generosity and shook their heads. Too much. Really too much. The gifts made their performance that much more elevated. While the audience started assembling, the trio practiced until 1250, then put down their instruments and sat in the designated area to the side of the stage. At one o'clock, the doors closed, and Mandy Everton walked on stage to welcome everyone and deliver opening comments with bios and the program selection. Kenzie searched the audience, then caught sight of Michael choosing a seat in the balcony. She stared until he sat and looked at her. Eyes locked, he smiled and nodded. She cocked her head to one side in a defiant acknowledgement, then looked away.

SPEAKER_00 7:31

And last but not least, Ms. Kenzie Pratt, a national violin virtuoso, an internationally acclaimed violinist, a menu win prize winner, and guest violinist with the Berlin Philharmonic. All of this by the age of 18. And more than this, she's a cancer survivor, a role model for all young soldiers of this disease. A survivor.

SPEAKER_12 8:31

A brief tuning, then silence, a hush, then the rush. Unexpectedly, they opened and revved up with Wake Me Up by Avici, a violin, cello, bass cover, a marriage of sounds and rhythms that got everyone toe-tapping. And the audience erupted in new clapping styles of the moon. There was no normal standard of courtesy in this piece. And at the end, the audience pleaded and whistled in appreciation. Kenzie joined the others and bowed to both the right and left sections. Taking a moment to transition to the next piece, they took a breath, placed their music, tuned, and started into one of the world's greatest songs. Hallelujah. Then the theme from Schindler's List. Next, Barber's Adagio, and to the closing work, The Valde's Storm. Not a person was left seated as the trio finished and Michael was set to leave the balcony and make his way toward the Presidium when Kenzie announced a last piece that wasn't on the program but would like to share it with them. An original pop piece she wrote and produced on days when when she needed a reminder she was a thinking, feeling woman. Both lyrics and music were hers. Bringing her violin with her, she stood at the mic in front of the first row, and the audience gladly sat down and quieted as the other two musicians improvised with her.

SPEAKER_03 10:46

This is just a crazy love song. It's not long, and and I'm not sure if anyone wins at this game. But a girl has to let loose some time, right?

SPEAKER_12 11:03

Her violin started the intro, and as she tapped a beat on it, the cello and bass carried it while she sang. Slow, quiet, and sensual, the lyrics spilled from Kenzie's mouth as she put down her violin and let her voice take over.

SPEAKER_06 11:36

Here I am unkind and bitter, but you slide me comfort to me inside out like a ladder walking me under. I arrive at your playground in a neighborhood. I arrive at you now. Here I am locked down double bolted, but the power of your pleasure turns me inside out like a favorite page turner.

SPEAKER_12 12:59

She took the mic and walked down the aisle while she sang, not caring what they thought about her chances of ever being loved or wanted. She finished with humming the outro. The audience was quiet, then stood and applauded. Not knowing why, one woman cried and shook her head apologetically. The cellist and bassist joined her below the proscenium, linked hands, and bowed to a crowd gone deep into a momentary reverence for her heartfelt performance they weren't expecting. There were hushed bravos and so beautiful, but no woots or whistling. Kenzie looked up and saw Michael applauding and wondered why he did, because she was convinced he didn't have an empathetic bone in his body. He was drawn to what her body looked like on the inside, how flesh and muscle and bone looked distorted, how she struggled to control her native impulses, how her brain was congenitally wired for notation and sound, strings, language. Were her insides pale like her skin? Or bruised like spoiled food, half-eaten. If he could travel to one more destination, it would be inside her brain. He wondered if Kovu caught her distinct scent amidst the four hundred attendees. With three helpers carrying bouquets of flowers, Mandy joined the trio to say thanks and officially end the concert, inviting the audience to join the performers next door at the reception hall for refreshments. Mandy had to leave to oversee it, while Kenzie's trio packed up and made their way to the hall as well. When the cellist and bassist left, Michael approached and offered to carry her violin case or bouquet or both.

SPEAKER_02 15:33

So what do you think, Newbold?

SPEAKER_09 15:37

Well, damn. You've got some pipes, Pratt. I think you need to live a lot longer than what Fate says. Fuck Fate. From the press I've read, you should have died three years ago.

SPEAKER_03 15:53

But I didn't. So now what?

SPEAKER_09 15:56

That makes you dangerous. And I I don't know what to do with you.

SPEAKER_03 16:05

Don't do anything. But if I were you, I'd be getting a fucking survival kit ready. Did it listen? Does it know I'm here?

SPEAKER_09 16:16

Again, I don't know what you're talking about. FedEx has made church deliveries downstairs. Mandy's been downstairs. There's nothing downstairs. Right.

SPEAKER_03 16:30

I'm delusional, but but they didn't see what I saw. And what you planted in Grant Polly's house.

SPEAKER_09 16:38

I gotta go. Great concert.

SPEAKER_03 16:40

Do you know what I want to say to you?

SPEAKER_09 16:44

What?

SPEAKER_03 16:45

I'm coming for you, Newbold. But I already said it.

SPEAKER_09 16:49

Yes, you did the last time you threatened me.

SPEAKER_04 16:54

It's been almost 48 hours and and they haven't found him. Don't think any of this matters to me. I can't sleep. His little body laying somewhere, hurt and alone, makes me sick. And I know you are part of it. I know it.

SPEAKER_09 17:21

I think your meds blur what's real and what's not. I could say, I'll be waiting, but I won't.

SPEAKER_04 17:30

You don't know what I'll do to bring him home.

SPEAKER_09 17:35

I have to go. You'll regret you ever trespass.

SPEAKER_12 17:42

Kenzie knew her med alert she had left in the vestry would have beeped during the concert. Before she left for the reception, she fixed herself, chilled until the meds took hold, then put on her happy face, unknowing that across the city, the detectives had a strand of her hair and would pin her photo on their crime board as a person of interest until they had more evidence. When Jack called Ellie to touch base about the wig, she was questioning the manager of an upscale boutique. He also updated her on forwarding the photo of the earring to reputable jewelers. Their rhythms were almost always in sync. Ellie knowing when she wanted to take care of him, and Jack knowing when to let her, especially around lunch.

SPEAKER_07 18:45

I'll pick you up something. You must be starving.

SPEAKER_11 18:48

No fish, no egg, no salad, no fries.

SPEAKER_12 18:51

Ellie rolled her eyes.

SPEAKER_07 18:53

You got a date later or something, and you need you need some serious fartery control?

SPEAKER_11 19:00

No date. I just don't want eggs or fish.

SPEAKER_07 19:04

Or salad or fries. Got it.

SPEAKER_12 19:06

Now and again, Ellie allowed a flashback or two to that painful acclamation as the new kid on the blog. Jack's strict interior world of policing precluded responsible personal relationships in his exterior world. He didn't know that was possible. At that time, Jack's marriage was failing. Then depression followed. Ellie was venomous to Jack, not because she was a woman or black or buff, but because she was as good as he was at his job. And Jack didn't want to depend upon her. In time, Jack knew how reliable she was. He could rely on her not to crush his ego, not to steal thunder from him, not to accept his self-pity, not to close in on him, and not to let him watch the world pass him by. Ellie arranged his first blind date that was okay until he brought out his collection of travel photos his ex had taken. The ex licking an ice cream cone in Mexico. The ex kissing a dolphin in Vancouver. The ex riding a donkey in Rhodes. The ex getting a massage in a Turkish bath. Ellie tried to coach him as best she could. No eggs, fish, salad, or fries, she thought. Then let go of it. There were two sales ladies working in the boutique. The owner was lively and complimentary. If I had hair like yours, I'd never cover it up.

SPEAKER_07 20:56

Oh, I'm not here for a wig. I'm Detective Titus with the Waverly Police Services. I'm investigating a case and need information about red wigs you've sold in the past year. Are you the owner?

SPEAKER_12 21:09

I'm Carrie Billings. Ellie quickly pans the beautifully appointed space.

SPEAKER_07 21:15

Carrie, I'm investigating a case, and I need to ask if you have a client who recently purchased a medium-colored red wig.

SPEAKER_12 21:24

She removed a small notebook.

SPEAKER_07 21:27

I don't imagine red wigs are sold frequently.

SPEAKER_12 21:30

Not as popular as the brunette tones. I do have four part-time wig stylists who have their own clients as well.

SPEAKER_07 21:37

Would you be able to check your sales records? It's very important. If you do this now, I won't have to get a warrant, which is what my supervisor will want me to do.

SPEAKER_12 21:48

Sure.

SPEAKER_07 21:49

The office is in the back.

SPEAKER_12 21:51

Ellie followed her to a casual and comfortable office behind the fitting rooms. There's sparkling water there. Help yourself. Thank you. Carrie handed her a chilled glass, then directed her to online business files. She searched the sales history and found most transactions were out of province. Some were bought locally online, which left an in-person purchase by a Ms. Cyan Leray.

SPEAKER_07 22:18

Do you remember anything special about her order?

SPEAKER_12 22:20

No, but I processed Ms. Leray's purchase, and as I recall, it wasn't for her. She bought it as a gift and asked if her friend could come in for a fitting with one of my stylists.

SPEAKER_07 22:31

Do you have a record of the appointment?

SPEAKER_12 22:33

I should have. She scanned the appointment calendar. She made it for Kenzie Pratt in April three months ago. Carmen, one of my stylists, fitted her. He's not here today, but I remember him telling me this Kenzie Pratt was CEO, Justin Pratt's daughter, and that she needed a replacement wig because of chemo treatments. Ellie finished her notes and water.

SPEAKER_07 22:57

Carrie, you've been so helpful. I got exactly what I needed. Here's my card. Please call if you remember anything else.

SPEAKER_12 23:07

In the aftermath of Jack circulating the photo of the earring, the only jeweler to respond was Peter Albright, who owned Albright's Classic Jewelers.

SPEAKER_11 23:18

Chisholm speaking.

SPEAKER_01 23:20

This is Albright's Classic Jewelers. I'm the owner, Peter Albright. We received the photo of the earring your department circulated. You probably haven't received any calls.

SPEAKER_11 23:34

That is correct. Did your store design it?

SPEAKER_01 23:38

Yes. I made it myself. It has a history.

SPEAKER_11 23:42

We found it by accident, and it has become evidence in an investigation. I need any information you have on the earring. If you require a warrant, I can be there with one in a couple of hours.

SPEAKER_01 23:54

No, that isn't necessary. I redesigned a diamond ring into a set of earrings, one of which is the one you have in evidence. The ring dated back to 1880 and was an antique purchased by Mrs. Nora Elstad. She had me design the earrings two years ago as a present for her granddaughter. Mrs. Elstad passed last year.

SPEAKER_11 24:21

Could you scan the invoice to me? Of course. You don't happen to recall the granddaughter's name. No, I'm sorry. I appreciate your prompt response and cooperation, Mr. Albright.

SPEAKER_12 24:34

Jack sourced obituaries and found Mrs. Eldstad's. Survived by three grandchildren, Lawrence Hahn, Wes Hahn, and Sharice Lee, who turned up on social media. Sharice Lee, a university student, pre-law, Thames University, Waverly, single. The database had her address. When Ellie returned, she shared research notes on Kenzie Pratt.

SPEAKER_07 25:11

Spent time in Silver Youth Center for assaulting a nurse in 2019. Her dad didn't make jail. He thought jail time would be good for her. Plays the violin. She has advanced cancer. So sad at her age. And stays at the family estate with a part-time caregiver and housekeeper. While her father manages his company's holdings from various places in the world. She graduated high school. That's it so far.

SPEAKER_11 25:51

I got lucky with the earring. It belongs to Sharice Lee, a university student who lives downtown Waverly. How the hell did her earring turn up in Mac's hoodie? I'll stake out Lee's place for a while. Then I want to talk with Polly.

SPEAKER_07 26:07

I'll have eyes on the Prat Estate later today. But we have a few minutes to eat. I'm starving.

SPEAKER_12 26:12

She handed Jack two soft tacos.

SPEAKER_11 26:16

Just what I needed.

SPEAKER_12 26:17

He grabbed them and swiveled back to his desk.

SPEAKER_11 26:22

Drinks later? The roadhouse. You on?

SPEAKER_07 26:26

I'm cozying up to my laptop tonight. Chapter 25. Then a zoom date with my publisher.

SPEAKER_11 26:33

At some point, you have to decide what world you want to live in.

SPEAKER_07 26:37

Everyone lives in two or more worlds. We're all Walter Middies to some extent.

SPEAKER_11 26:45

Just forget I asked. Enjoy chapter 25. I'm taking the dogs to the roadhouse. If you change your mind, text me.

SPEAKER_12 26:55

Jack left. Deep in thought about his worlds of choice. There was the world of policing, his former world of marital self-destruction, and his dream world he never remembered. He asked himself if it was time to get another world. Jack was thankful that Grant wanted to talk freely without his lawyer. He explained to Grant how he needed to get a deeper understanding of people he might have angered over the last years.

SPEAKER_11 27:33

I'm trying to get the full picture of your history, Grant. Your lawyer told me you had a hard time after you went to prison, that there was an attempted suicide. Tell me about that.

SPEAKER_10 27:46

No one will ever understand that kind of remorse I felt. I just didn't want to live anymore. I never, not once, trivialized my compulsions. I understood them and was sickened by them. The second chance that the Waverly Health Services gave me has changed my life. And now this. How to handle them. Also, the therapist focused on rebuilding self-worth. Who was the team enabler? Professor Michael Newbold. He teaches at Thames U. How did that go? He showed me alternatives. He helped me get past it. He's a good person.

SPEAKER_12 28:59

Grant remembered Michael's ability to listen without judging, his ability to instill in him a gentle, progressive self-awareness of his strengths and acquired appreciation of guiltless gratitude, like photographing nature, birds in particular. Michael helped him to identify what he felt through his photography of birds in flight or nesting. When they talked, and Grant had time to reflect, he told Michael it was the birds' trust in nature, that when they opened their wings, the air would carry them, the trees would hold them, that there was a beautiful union between them. Grant needed to trust in and unite with something beautiful like that. His camera brought him into their world.

SPEAKER_11 29:54

What about other inmates who are out now?

SPEAKER_10 29:56

Everyone knew why I was in, and for some reason didn't bother me, left me alone.

SPEAKER_11 30:01

What about other people who attended your group therapy sessions?

SPEAKER_10 30:05

No one I can think of. No one judged me. They supported me.

SPEAKER_11 30:09

Okay, Grant. I'm trying to explore all leads here. I can see that.

SPEAKER_10 30:15

I appreciate that.

SPEAKER_11 30:17

I'll keep your lawyer up to speed. We're detaining you for your own safety. We are assessing all the evidence. We are doing our jobs diligently.

SPEAKER_12 30:27

Jack left with a feeling that Polly was genuine, that he didn't have relapses to that dark place where control was not an option. But Jack knew that most offenders reverted to reward-based behavior, simple rewards for complex appetites. He didn't understand how Polly beat the odds. Her family had thinned without much warning, leaving her alone. Her Sichuan-born father, who was 45 when Sharice was born, decided not to stay with his wife and newborn and return to China. Her mom was called to the bar when Sharice was three. Mother and daughter were best friends, a friendship that ended suddenly in a car crash when Sharice was 20. Her mourning led her to drop out of university to care for her maternal grandmother who had Parkinson's. When she died, Sharice was left a substantial inheritance, her Mercedes that Sharice didn't drive, and enough money to pay for six years of university and rent. Once her family stopped thinning, Sharice rejoined the land of the breathing. She loved Waverly, its clear air, clean neighborhoods, and trendy shops that her townhome bordered on. The cafe she and Michael went to was a second home to Sharice, where she could relax in a corner with her laptop, the sunlight hitting her through stained glass windows. There were mixed sweet aromas of everything she refused to eat, but never refused their cafe noisette. Being a disciplined comfort seeker, she loved solitude with a circumference around her. An invisible emotional moat, outside of which she kept her dad, her exes, her estranged cousins, her betrayers. But she let Michael in, something she thought she'd never do again. Perfection was difficult to resist. Michael was caring, vulnerable, tender, intelligent. She sipped her noon hour coffee through hot, foamy milk and turned toward the squeaky door when it opened. Sharice looked over to see a tall, red-haired girl make her way to Sharice's corner to sit opposite her at her private table without asking if she could. Quickly, she gathered some papers she had spread across from her and didn't like sharing. Didn't even manage a smile.

SPEAKER_03 33:26

You have some foam on your upper lip.

SPEAKER_12 33:32

Kenzie offered Sharice a napkin.

SPEAKER_02 33:35

We're both in Professor Newbold's class. I'm Kenzie.

SPEAKER_12 33:39

Are we? I don't remember seeing you. Your hair is beautiful.

SPEAKER_03 33:45

You're hard to miss. Actually, we're not in the same class. I lied. But I did spy on him and saw your innocent smooch the other day.

SPEAKER_12 33:58

That's none of your business.

SPEAKER_02 34:00

You seem way too intelligent to make a colossal fuck up in character profiling.

SPEAKER_12 34:05

Sharice drew in a deep breath, and I'm not generally a rude person. That I'm here to work. Could you leave? You're bothering me. I really don't like you in my space.

SPEAKER_03 34:18

I get it. I'm not sure how to handle this because something like this has never happened to me before. But I've been doing a lot of research into Newbold's past. Why would you do that? What do you really know about him?

SPEAKER_12 34:36

Sharice didn't like her trespassing on this side of the moat and decided she probably was a jealous undergrad who was too dull or too scared to make an impression on Michael. So thought she could get his attention by stirring up shit. Why do you think I'd want to know anything about Professor Nuble that you want to tell me?

SPEAKER_03 34:57

Because since you're having sex with him, you're in a danger zone. I know stuff, and you have no idea who you're fucking, to put it mildly.

SPEAKER_12 35:08

Again, none of your business. How old are you? Seventeen? She studied Kenzie's dull face that didn't have the luster her hair did.

SPEAKER_03 35:20

18. I know things about him you need to know. Things for your own self-protection. It's serious shit.

SPEAKER_12 35:30

Sharice shook her head, knowing she wasn't good at handling crazy, but tried. Listen to me. I know all the important stuff about him. The stuff that makes me feel really good about myself. The stuff that makes him important in my life. Do you understand that? I'd tell you, but I don't think you're empathetic enough to understand. If I were you, don't tell him you've been stalking us. He'd report you.

SPEAKER_03 35:59

You're misjudging him. That's a big mistake.

SPEAKER_12 36:05

Sharice was clever and perceptive. She wondered why this teenager thought she knew Michael better than she did. So, what's your name again? Kenzie Pratt. How exactly do you know him?

SPEAKER_03 36:19

I didn't until I ran into him at this neo-Gothic cathedral in Delhi, a famous cathedral. But you've probably never heard of it.

SPEAKER_12 36:27

Kenzie stopped and remembered the dark brick floor and Max's shirt lying carelessly trampled in the dirt. Sudden tears flooded her eyes. Fuck! Oh no! Are are you going to cry? Oh, please don't! What the fuck is going on? Don't pass out on me. You look awful. You need help. She wiped her tears with Sharice's napkin.

SPEAKER_03 36:54

I was rehearsing at the cathedral for a fundraising concert. It was for cancer research. I have cancer. My hair is a fucking wig that my dad's girlfriend bought me. I went exploring and ended up in the basement of this cathedral that Michael rents for storage. I wasn't supposed to be down there. I found something he knew was there, but he's probably removed it by now. So what exactly are you crying about? It was the missing boy's sweatshirt. Max Shelton's hoodie.

SPEAKER_12 37:28

She quickly took out her phone.

SPEAKER_03 37:30

I took pictures of it. It's the same one in the poster. It's the one the police found at that man's home they arrested. But he's innocent.

SPEAKER_12 37:39

Sharice looked and thought. You could be lying. You could be a jealous stalker. You wouldn't be the first. It happens to professors all the time, especially to rich, sexy profs.

SPEAKER_03 38:00

The thing is, I'm not lying. It was there at the cathedral, and Newbold saw me just as I was leaving and asked the church secretary, Mandy Everton, for my contact. Did he contact you? More than once. And he denied everything. Think about it. I found the hoodie in the cathedral, and then it ends up in this innocent man's home. You mean that pedophile's home? You know he's a pedophile, right? That's what they say. But that doesn't mean anything.

SPEAKER_12 38:32

Cherie shook her head and laughed.

SPEAKER_03 38:35

Do you have any idea how crazy you sound? You're taking crazy to a whole new level. You're completely delusional. I know it sounds crazy. Why haven't you gone to the police? I did. I I mean, I phoned them, but they didn't believe me. Really? Michael is so respected at Thames, and he's philanthropic. He gives so much to charitable foundations. Look, if you don't believe me, call the cathedral and ask about the concert. Ask about the basement. Ask about Michael's donation to the fundraiser. Ten thousand.

SPEAKER_12 39:14

Sharice looked at her questioningly.

SPEAKER_03 39:16

What? Uh-huh. Ten thousand. I have proof. I'm glad you do. This proves how caring he is. Try listening to yourself. Oh, and I smelled something down there and heard something that he's keeping down there. Like something caged up. Something caged.

SPEAKER_12 39:38

This keeps getting better and better. She shook her head again and started to pack up. If you're not leaving, I am. You fucked my day up. You're fucking with my life. Don't ever contact me again. Suddenly, Kenzie grabbed Sharice's phone from her. Hey! She reached across the table for it. Give it to me. Quickly, Kenzie put in her contact and returned it.

SPEAKER_03 40:02

Don't delete me or block me. And if I were you, don't ask that fucker about anything I've told you today. He's dangerous. You're not safe. Oh, and I went back and found an outside storm door to the basement in the ground. You know, the kind for tornadoes. I looked between the slats of wood in the door and saw something move. I heard.

SPEAKER_12 40:32

You don't have to worry about me saying anything because you're insane. I would never ask him about this shit. He's a respectable educator and researcher. He helps people. He's gentle and understanding. He would never hurt me or anyone. Stay the fuck away from me. If you don't, I'll tell the police about you. How you stalked both Michael and me and threatened me. She finished packing and rushed out. Two women had met and parted. Two women with fragile ties, thinned families, and singular destinies. Sound desperate. She wondered if she compromised Sherice's trust in Michael. If she endangered her. She wondered why Michael had never mentioned the fundraiser, and why he hadn't invited her. Feeling sick and alone, she needed him, stripped off her clothes and got into a hot tub. Michael answered her call and smiled at her invitation for some phone sex. Cherice felt she'd won. Fuck you, Kenzie Pratt. I know who loves me, who keeps me safe. This ends season one of Darkseid Thriller's Serialized Audio Drama. Kept, a novel by Jem Woodall. We want to thank you for joining us at Darkseid Thrillers for eight free episodes, and invite you to purchase the entire fiction audio drama or novel available in your favorite online venues, June 2026. You can also subscribe to Darkseid Thrillers on Patreon and get bonus short fiction audio drama, writing tips, original music, and more. Stay turned on and tuned in for season two: The Serialized Audio Drama: The Swimmer, Her Murderer, and an Orphan. A novel by Jem Woodall, September 2026. Dark Side Thrillers produced kept. Ambient music by Richard Moore. Sound recording by Mike Donaldson. Special thanks to talented artists at Pixabay. The song Turn Me Inside Out is produced by Grace Note Music Design. Original lyrics by Meg Howold. I'm bringing my novel Kept to you in ebook, print book, and Audible formats July 3rd in your favorite online store. Join us on Patreon for so much more.