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CHAPTER 1
“Samuel Humphries was a man described by those who knew him as a true Southern gentleman. A war hero and devoted family man, Samuel was deeply ingrained in the fabric of his community, known for his philanthropy and generosity.” Fiona's southern drawl resonates with a low-pitched huskiness, weaving a narrative that draws listeners into her world with just the right amount of depth and richness. As Fiona speaks, her words possess a remarkable ability to paint a vivid picture that I could never hope to emulate. “His charitable acts, from donating to the needy to donning the persona of Santa Claus to bring joy to underprivileged children, left an indelible mark on those around him. Yet, beneath the veneer of benevolence lay a darker truth—Samuel Humphries didn't just touch lives; he took them.”
Sitting in traffic, I eagerly turn the knob to increase the volume, already captivated within a matter of seconds. I'm no stranger to the story of Samuel Humphries; we featured it last week on my show. Yet, I can sense that Fiona's rendition will be far more comprehensive than mine. This marks the beginning of a three-part series on her show, “Dark Deeds with Fiona Flores.” In contrast, my version only lasted fifty-five minutes, commercials included. Clearly, she's delved deeper into her research to expand it into three parts.
Much like Fiona, I host a true crime podcast, ranking as the fifth-highest rated in the country. It's been a challenging journey marked by relentless effort and determination. I've poured my heart and soul into climbing to the pinnacle of my profession. Yet, despite my hard-won victory, my reign at the top proved fleeting. Last year, I relinquished the top spot to her, and just last month, I slid further down to fifth place, losing some of my most lucrative sponsors in the process.
I continue along the scenic route, prolonging my drive just to soak in Fiona's captivating narrative, each mention of a detail I overlooked amplifying my frustration. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing I fell short in my research.
Fiona's prowess is undeniable; her ability to craft a compelling story with minimal assistance is nothing short of remarkable. Yet, a nagging doubt creeps in—could she truly accomplish all this alone? The sheer volume of her success suggests otherwise. Perhaps it's a facade, a carefully constructed image hiding a team of experts working tirelessly behind the scenes.
As I pull up to the restaurant where I’m meeting my agent, “Dark Deeds” transitions into a commercial. I hear Fiona introduce GlamLuxe Cosmetics, the latest market leader in cosmetics for women aged 18–25. Of course, it’s a good fit. No one wants to hear a man pitch those things. However, the second commercial nearly makes me hit the curb. She’s acquired the sponsor I’ve coveted since I first hit the top ten. She’s landed and seamlessly weaves it into her narrative by telling women to always be prepared to run.
You don’t walk into Nike headquarters and ask for sponsorship. A company like that comes to you. How does she do it? I slam my palms against the steering wheel and open my mouth to scream. Fortunately, the valet taps on the driver’s side window to ask for my keys before I thoroughly humiliate myself in front of my fellow diners.
Handing over my keys with a murmur of gratitude, I avert my gaze, too mortified to meet the valet's eyes directly.
My agent, Harry, and I have established a routine of monthly meetings to sift through various offers and opportunities for guest appearances on other podcasts and media outlets. The underlying strategy is clear: amplifying my visibility would lure advertisers to increase their budgets with my platform. However, recent times have seen a troubling trend where some of my most significant sponsors are withdrawing at an alarming rate.
Harry raises his glass with an air of excitement and gestures towards the opposite side of the booth. “I’ve got fantastic news for you,” he announces, brimming with a confidence that seems almost too good to be true.
As I navigate towards the table, a server brushes past me, and I request a beer— a small attempt to brace myself for what I presume will be underwhelming news. “Alright, hit me with it,” I respond, attempting to cloak my skepticism with a thin veneer of optimism, although Harry's overzealous cheerfulness appears somewhat fake.
“Let's start with positive news,” Harry initiates, pausing to take a sip of his beer, seemingly to moisten his throat in anticipation of the conversation ahead.
My heart sinks a little at the hint of more complex news to come. “So, there's also less-than-fabulous news?” I inquire, striving to maintain a composed exterior despite the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. I remind myself that Harry isn't to blame for the recent lackluster episodes of my show.
With a single, affirming nod, Harry seeks to ease the tension. “Yes, but let's focus on the positive first. I'm confident you’ll love it,” he assures, his hands coming together in a clap before he eagerly rubs them, his smile broadening in a way that's meant to be infectious.
I notice him pause as if he’s waiting for my consent and merely nod, urging him to proceed.
“Come on, Harry,” I prompt, my tone laced with a hint of impatience yet betraying a flicker of curiosity. The prolonged buildup only heightens my apprehension, painting grim scenarios in my mind.
“I’ve orchestrated a guest appearance for you on 'Crime Chronicles' for a two-day segment next month.” Harry unveils his latest maneuver. “They're delving into the chilling tale of the Flynn family massacre and have expressed a keen interest in having you on board to share your insights. It's a golden chance to tap into a fresh audience. ‘Crime Chronicles’ tends to draw in a younger male demographic, a stark contrast to your podcast, which predominantly resonates with the 35–50 age group,” he explains, his voice laced with forced vigor, his eyes betraying the lack of genuine excitement.
I can’t hide my skepticism. “But 'Crime Chronicles' doesn't pull in the same listener numbers as ‘Morbid Minds,’” I point out, referencing my own podcast. “I’m at a loss as to what I could bring to their platform beyond casual banter.” My frustration is palpable, my hands instinctively moving to my face, fingers threading through my hair in irritation and disbelief.
Harry's response comes with a sharp exhale, his grip on his glass intensifying. “Venturing into this could really humanize your image. Your approach tends to be quite stern. It's no secret that your Northeastern roots contribute to this, but there's a real opportunity here to soften that image. Showing a more approachable, down-to-earth side could make you seem more relatable, steering clear of the 'distant newscaster' persona some might perceive.”
Harry's critique echoes my internal apprehensions and stirs a blend of resentment and reflection within me. I'm painfully aware there are times when I appear detached and aloof. It isn’t deliberate, but it’s hardly ideal when delving into topics of tragedy and despair. Eager to avoid this uncomfortable subject, I ask, “And the bad news?”
Without missing a beat, Harry presents an open envelope and slides it to me. “Vigilant Eye Security has dropped you. They've shifted their marketing money to ‘Dark Deeds,’” he reveals, the gravity of his words landing with a thud.
My heart sinks with disappointment. Vigilant Eye Security, an integral sponsor that consistently backed every episode, has aligned itself with Fiona—my biggest rival. The irony of their choice exacerbates the blow. “Why not secure a slot for me on her show, then? That's the audience I'm aiming to captivate, not ‘Crime Chronicles,’” I protest, my frustration likely wearing thin on Harry's patience. Yet, in this moment of vulnerability, I see an opportunity to turn the tide.
Harry, perplexed by the notion, counters, “Fiona has no incentive to bolster a rival. What gain would she find in offering you to appear on her platform?”
Unfazed, I plead, my hands clasped in prayer, a true show of my desperation. “Just ask Fiona. She's my key to getting back in the game. Plus, I'm eager to learn from her approach.”
Harry responds with a weary sigh, feigning interest in the menu when he always orders the same thing. “You, open to learning? That's something I’d like to see.”
CHAPTER 2
“The mystery surrounding Samuel Humphries and his ability to conceal the sheer scale of his crimes for such an extended period remains a topic of speculation. Occasionally, his wife Patrice harbored suspicions, particularly regarding his frequent late-night excursions, which he claimed were taken to relieve his insomnia. Yet, her concerns tended to veer towards possible infidelity, never once turning to the chilling reality of serial murders.” In recounting her reflections, I adjust my tone to convey her perspective, "I could never have imagined, especially not from my husband of twenty-five years, the depth of darkness he carried inside him.
“It's a common misconception that a spouse must be aware of their partner’s dark secrets. However, it's crucial to recognize that Patrice Humphries is a casualty of her husband's heinous actions. Although she emerged physically unscathed, the psychological and emotional toll has been immense, forcing her to reconcile with the devastating truth that the life she knew was built on lies.” As I delve into this narrative, I ensure that my delivery is measured and precise, fully aware that behind these harrowing tales lie real people and grieving families whose emotions and losses warrant respect and sensitivity. This is not merely a story. It's a somber reflection on real lives irrevocably altered by tragedy.
Despite my revulsion towards this man and his vile acts, I push myself to delve deeply into his history, striving to uncover any pivotal moments or influences that might have steered him towards such a path of darkness. This pursuit of understanding forms the core of my podcast, aptly titled “Dark Deeds with Fiona Flores.” While the name might seem straightforward, arriving at it was anything but simple. The culmination of several weeks of brainstorming and the invaluable insights of my best friend and assistant, Gisela, finally brought it to life.
