Hugh and Jenny took the time while he was following Charlie to discuss how to word some of the more-sensitive aspects of events that had transpired since they had first met. It was a tightrope act. One misstep could lead to disaster if the reporter began probing too deeply.
About thirty minutes into the drive they entered Coeur d’Alene from the north, and drove through town. As Hugh was beginning to think they were going to leave out the other end of the city and keep on going south, Charlie pulled off of the divided highway at the extreme southern reaches of the city. As Hugh followed, she hung a left onto a major boulevard, then made a right turn into the parking area of a large mansion with a sign in the front announcing it as the Bucks Spring Hotel.
They saw Charlie waiting outside her car for Hugh to finish parking. They followed her on a tree-lined sidewalk along the right side of the mansion. When they broke out into the open they saw another sidewalk that led to a separate cottage on one side of a large grassy area. Charlie took the sidewalk, and opened the door to the cottage. It had a name carved into a wooden plaque attached to the wall next to the door: “Carriage House.”
Charlie dropped her bag onto a large easy chair in the main room and spread out her arms in a “Here we are” gesture. “Home.”
Hugh looked at Jenny. Jenny looked at Hugh.
“How did you get this room on such short notice?” Hugh asked. He knew enough about Coeur d’Alene to know rooms like this in converted mansions were booked months, if not years, in advance.
“No problem. The newspaper owns it,” Charlie replied.
“This carriage house?”
“This whole hotel, Hugh,” Charlie said. “Newspaper executives come up to Coeur d’Alene for cultural events. They put up important clients here, and want to have someplace without the hassle of booking hotels and such. Real paying guests the rest of the time defray the costs.”
Hugh wondered what was special about Charlie that she had enjoyed an executive’s privilege.
“The mansion has seven bedrooms, some even nicer than this. I like the Carriage House because it has larger rooms, a separate bedroom, and is quiet and private,” she said.
The main room was large – scoot the easy chairs and plush couch against the walls and have a dance party kind of large. Hugh peeked into the next room and saw a huge sleigh-style bed. Against one end of the main room was an efficiently appointed kitchenette. The bathroom, from what Hugh could see through a partially open door, featured a double vanity and a huge tiled, walk-in shower.
Charlie noticed Hugh and Jenny taking all this in.
“This is the deluxe suite. A king suite is at the other end of the Carriage House that is similar, but slightly smaller.”
Jenny finally spoke. “I had no idea,” she said. “Definitely worth the long drive up from Boise.”
“Oh, I didn’t drive,” Charlie said. “We fly a private jet into Coeur d’Alene Airport. The car I drove up to Sandpoint is a company car we keep at the airport.”
Chapter Three
“We should get started,” Charlie said. “But first, does anybody want coffee or tea? Or need to freshen up?”
Never one to turn down an offer of coffee, Hugh headed over to the kitchenette. Jenny made for the bathroom.
On the counter of the kitchenette was the latest model automatic coffee-maker. A cabinet next to it had three drawers. Hugh tried one of the drawers and saw lines of pods neatly organized by flavors. He pulled all three drawers until he was satisfied with his choice of a dark, French roast. He used two pods to make two six-ounce coffees into one large mug. He was familiar with these machines, and the only way to get a decent cup of coffee was to double up the dose.
Coffee in hand, Hugh walked over to a round dining table. He, Jenny and Charlie sat around the table like the points of a triangle.
From within her bag, Charlie pulled out a tablet in a case. She flipped the case open to reveal an attached keyboard. It looked like a miniature laptop, and Hugh assumed that’s what its purpose was. Small and portable with a real keyboard, but without all the touch-screen nonsense of a tablet.
She also took out a small digital recorder, and pushed the button for record.
As a backup, she had a yellow pad and pen at hand.
Serious business.
“OK. Let’s do this.”
Charlie’s first impression about this couple who she was about to interview was that they were nervous. Understandable. She brought that out in a lot of the subjects of her interviews. On a deeper level, however, she thought they looked like desperate people who were treading carefully in dangerous waters swarming with sharks. Charlie figured she was the shark they were most worried about right now. She had a feeling they wouldn’t be open about the events in the past that had brought them to the attention of authorities.
Easy questions first.
“For the record, what are your full names?”
“Hugh Mann.”
“Jennifer McDonald.”
“So, tell me how you two met.”
She caught the look Hugh gave Jenny. Jenny looked down at her hands folded together on the tabletop.
“Well,” Hugh answered. “I was driving my truck on a highway in Nevada and I saw Jenny hitchhiking.”
Long pause.
Charlie looked at Jenny, who she thought looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but here. “What were you doing hitchhiking all by yourself in the middle of the Nevada desert?”
Jenny looked at Hugh, who nodded to her.
“I was trying to get away from my uncle.”
“What’s his name? For the record.”
“Adam McDonald. But I don’t see how it matters.”
Charlie held up a finger, like “hold
