The Deception by Marina Martindale

happened, it'll be too late, but don't you worry. I'll make sure you get credited as the model in the photos. That way the entire world can see you for the tramp you really are."
    While Maggie waited for the release form to come out of the printer, she decided to check the email. Sure enough, Kendra had received a reply, with a photo file attached.
    "So, Carrie, I want to thank you for helping this sweet little fifth-grader with her homework." There was a venomous tone to Maggie's voice. "Of course, what you don't realize is that you've just dug your own grave. Hope you rot in it, bitch!"
    Maggie printed out the photo and carefully studied Carrie's signature. She practiced copying it a few times on a piece of scratch paper. She checked the clock. Ben would be home in less than thirty minutes so she'd have to hurry. She practiced a few more times before copying Carrie's signature onto the release form and placing it into the scanner. Ten minutes later all of the necessary files had been scanned, attached, and emailed to the magazine. The deed was done and not a moment too soon.
    Maggie quickly gathered up the photo, release form and scratch paper. She took it to the family room, placed it in the fireplace, lit a match, and watched in delight as all the incriminating evidence turned black and crumbled into ashes. She returned to Scott's computer to delete her files and clear the browser history.
    "Mission accomplished." She triumphantly shut the computer down. "A few months from now, Ms. Carrie Daniels, when you least expect it, your entire world will implode. But hey, with any luck, you'll get to keep the prize money."

Twelve
     
    M aggie was busy preparing dinner when Scott arrived home. She put on her best poker face, greeting him with her customary kiss and asking him about his day.
    "The usual," he replied. "I'll go in and start working on your computer. And the next time I tell you to do an update, Maggie, just do it, okay."
    "Okay, okay. You don't need to be such a grouch about it. And by the way, I accidentally knocked one of the photos off the wall over our bed this morning while I was making it up. The glass broke and the frame got damaged. I'm so sorry. I feel really bad about it."
    "Great."
    "Now don't go getting upset," she said, trying to shrug it off. "The photo itself is okay, so I took it over to Taylor's Hobby and Crafts. They're reframing it and it'll be ready tomorrow afternoon, good as new."
    "Why didn't you take it back to Hanson Sisters?"
    "What?"
    "I said, 'Why didn't you take it back to Hanson Sisters?' They probably could have replaced the frame, and it would have been a much better one at that. These are limited edition prints, Maggie. They deserve something better than a cheap, hobby-shop frame. In all the years I've been trying to teach you about collecting art, have you not learned anything?"
    "Sorry, Scott, I didn't even think of that."
    "That's your problem, Maggie. You don't think. You don't have a brain in your head."
    "So what's that supposed to mean?"
    Scott let out a sigh. "It means, that instead of being able to relax and enjoy my evening, I get to spend it working on your computer because you refused to do the updates I told you to do months ago. What about the other photo?"
    "I took it to Taylor's too. Did you think I wasn't smart enough to have them in matching frames? Heaven forbid your precious photos should be less than perfect. They'll be back up on the wall by the time you get home tomorrow night. If you don't like the frames I picked out, then you can take them back to Hanson Sisters yourself."
    At least Scott was buying her story.
    "Call me when dinner's ready," he said as he made his exit.
    Maggie turned her attention back to the meal she was preparing. She couldn't wait to see the look on Scott's face when he found out exactly what she'd done to his mistress. Maybe then he'd finally learn to respect her.
    "Yeah, we'll see who's stupid then," she mumbled to herself.
    Scott