potentially a murder suspect. And I don’t trust anyone who tells you they don’t want the police around. It’s a homicide investigation, for Christsakes. What if you’re meeting Thanatos for lunch?”
That really steamed me. The man clearly thought I was an idiot.
“Never mind who I’m going to lunch with,” I hissed from between clenched teeth.
“Who the hell is it, Irene?”
“Goddamn it, Frank, it’s none of your business. I’m not required to report every contact I have with another male in Las Piernas to the local police department. Or to you personally, for that matter.”
“Just tell me.”
“Just drop it.”
“Are you near your period?”
“No, Frank. Is someone pinching your balls?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Don’t be an asshole!”
He hung up. I slammed the phone down so hard, the casing cracked. I looked up to see Mark Baker a few feet away, trying desperately to stifle laughter. I stomped out of the newsroom, stringing swear words together under my breath. I went downstairs.
“Geoff, you know where I’ll be if anyone comes looking for me,” I said on my way past the security desk. I went down into the basement.
Geoff is a skinny old gem of a man, and he often looks out for me when I’m in hot water. He has known me for a dozen years, and that means he knows that when I need a break from the
Danny Coburn, one of the press operators, smiled when he saw me, but quickly figured out that I needed to be given a wide berth. He let me go past him without doing more than handing me some ear protectors and saying, “Go on, just about to start them up.”
I knew my way through the maze of presses. I stood somewhere out in the middle of that web of machinery and wires and paper and ink. Just as Danny had said, they were starting up. Of course, the fact that I wasn’t really supposed to be there made it more enjoyable.
The growling start-up built into a roar, and I put the ear protectors on. Within a few minutes, the rumbling could be felt in the floor beneath my feet. The newsprint was moving faster now, flying past the place where I stood and weaving over, under, and between rollers. It came back up out of the presses in a blur, was cut and rolled and turned and folded. Knowing I’d never be heard over the presses, I hollered half a dozen obscenities at the top of my lungs. I breathed in the smell of the ink and the paper and felt better for it. I was at home there.
I have a fierce temper but I don’t usually stay mad for long. I know myself well enough to realize that one of my challenges in life is to keep it under control, to accept the fact that most of the things that make me angry aren’t worth the effort. It’s usually a matter of perspective.
But being engaged to be married does strange things to one’s perspective. Everything gets filtered through a sieve labeled “the rest of your life.” As I stood there watching the intricate network of paper and machinery do its work, I wondered if Frank and I could possibly overcome this particular obstacle.
There was an important principle being tested here, I told myself. As a reporter, I needed to be able to move among a wide variety of people — including unsavory characters. I didn’t believe I should be obliged to get Frank’s approval to talk to them. Frank’s protectiveness, so welcomed when I was injured, would suffocate me if it went too far where reporting was concerned. I needed him to trust me.
“No use asking anyone to trust you, Irene.” O’Connor once told me. “It’s like asking someone to love you. He either does or he doesn’t. The request doesn’t change a thing.”
The love I was sure of. The trust? Only a maybe. No matter what my sister had read while getting her nails done.
I looked up and saw Coburn waving me out from my hiding place. I took a deep breath and walked out to see why I was being summoned.
“Geoff says there’s someone here to see you,” Coburn shouted. I nodded and handed back the ear protectors. I glanced at my watch as I walked up the basement stairs. 9:30. Way too early for Kincaid. I reached the top of the stairs and Geoff motioned to me. I didn’t see anyone in the lobby.
“What is it, Geoff?”
“Detective Harriman is waiting to talk to you.”
“Look, Geoff—”
“I asked him to wait outside. Now, I ain’t so old I don’t see you two must have had a scrap of something — he don’t leave his police work to come down here all of a sudden-like just on a whim. It’s none of my business, but I’ve never seen you be a coward, Miss Kelly, so you better get on out there and talk to the man, or you’ll disappoint me.”
I had to grin. “Lord knows, Geoff, I can’t afford to do that.”
I went out the front doors and saw Frank leaning against the building, looking at the toe of one of his shoes like it held the secret of life.
“Crime on a coffee break in this town?” I asked.
“Hi.” He stood up straight, but didn’t come closer. Wise man.
“I’m under strict orders from Geoff to listen to what you have to say. Have you been bribing that old geezer?”
“No, but it’s a thought. I came down here to apologize. They told me your phone is out of order.”
