“At least he found it,” I said.
She let the story float to her desktop. “Thanks, Maddy.”
“It’s not going to mean a lot of rewriting, I hope.”
“Couple of paragraphs.”
I went back to my desk. The news that Annie Bandicoot was on a mission trip to Kentucky the night Buddy Wing was murdered would only take a little rewriting, just as Aubrey said. She was not, after all, identifying possible suspects and their whereabouts that night. She could just mention it in passing: For Annie Bandicoot, who was in eastern Kentucky the night of the murder, distributing food, clothing and toys to the poor, the arrest of Sissy James must have been especially distressing… Aubrey would just have to write something like that.
Yes, the rewriting would be easy for Aubrey. A quick cut and paste. Rewiring her brain would be harder. She’d been certain, I’m sure, that when the police reopened the case, their investigation would uncover all the evidence they needed to put Annie Bandicoot in that cell now occupied by Sissy James.
Aubrey left the newsroom a few minutes after four. I left at five. I didn’t feel like cooking so I had a quick bowl of miniature shredded wheats. Then I opened a package of Fig Newtons and turned on the TV 21 news. They led with a fatal truck-car accident on the interstate and then covered Chief Polceznec’s surprise retirement. Then they went live to Disney World, where Tish Kiddle had apparently fled after the windows of her Lexus were smashed out. It was the first part of her week-long series on Vacation Fun in the Florida Sun. “Tish, my sweet little lamb,” I said to the TV screen, my teeth gooey with fig, “you are no Aubrey McGinty.”
Chapter 20
Tuesday, July 11
I went to bed Monday absolutely certain I’d call in sick the next day. Aubrey’s series on the Buddy Wing murder was starting on Wednesday and that meant Tuesday would be frantic, like the day before a space shuttle launch or a military invasion. There would be a million last-minute changes. There would be unavoidable arguments and ugly fits of egomania. All day long the twin demons of anticipation and dread would be going at each other like a couple of barnyard roosters. Yet the second my eyes popped open, I knew I’d not only be going in, I’d be going in early and staying late. I didn’t want to miss a thing.
When I got to the paper Aubrey was already at her desk. Tinker was already in his office. I collected my mug and headed for the cafeteria. Eric was already there, drinking Mountain Dews with a couple of the boys from sports. I took my tea back to the morgue and started marking up the paper. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Aubrey. Her hair, not washed for a day or two, was pulled back into a ponytail. Her knees were propped against her desk and her keyboard was on her lap. She’d type a bit, then think a bit, and then yawn and take a sip of coffee, and then check her watch.
At noon I went to the cafeteria and stared at the vending machines for a while, coming pretty close to buying one of those dreadful ham and cheese sandwiches wedged in the slot like a warped piece of drywall. I went to Ike’s instead. “Morgue Mama, what’s wrong with you today?” he asked when I walked in. “You look like you’re going to corkscrew yourself right out of your pantaloons.”
“Aubrey’s series on Buddy Wing starts tomorrow,” I said. He’d already poured water for my tea and I pointed to a huge peanut butter cookie in the dessert case.
“From everything you’ve told me, it’ll all go fine,” he said.
“It’s what I haven’t told you that worries me,” I said.
Ike handed me the cookie and waved off my money. “Why you always keeping secrets from me, Maddy?”
In the afternoon I stayed as busy as I could. Occasionally Aubrey would look at me and pretend she was pulling out her hair. I’d just nod and we’d exchange a tired smile.
Shortly after five, I saw her hang her purse on her shoulder and head for the elevator. I grabbed my purse and followed. I slipped in just as the door was closing. “Sorry about lunch,” she said.
I watched her punch the parking deck button. “Going home?” I asked.
“Shopping,” she said.
“For anything in particular?”
“Tranquillity. But I’ll end up buying shoes.”
And so Aubrey and I drove to the mall in Brinkley, in my Dodge Shadow. The shops were already filled with clothes for fall and winter. I didn’t buy a thing. Aubrey found a sexy pair of pink mules on the clearance table at Payless. I dropped her off at the paper at seven-thirty. “Go home and relax,” I said.
She squeezed my arm and slid out. Before slamming the door she bent down and wiggled her fingers. I wiggled back. I watched her go inside. We’d been gone all that time and not once did either of us mention her Buddy Wing stories. What a relief that was.
At home I tried to eat a tuna fish sandwich and tried to watch TV. I washed my face and brushed my teeth and got into a baggy pair of pajamas. By now Wednesday’s front page was ready to go on the press. Unless something big broke, the press would start rolling precisely at midnight.
At eleven the phone rang. It was Tinker. “It’s really necessary that I be there?” I asked.
He just said, “Maddy,” the slow, stern way my father used to say “Maddy” when I tried to buck my chores or listened to my radio too late at night.
I drove back to the paper.
Except for a sprinkling of copy editors in metro and sports, the newsroom was empty. I went to Tinker’s office but he wasn’t there. So I got my mug and headed for the cafeteria. The last thing I needed at a quarter to midnight was a hot mug of Darjeeling tea. But I made some.
I slowly sipped my way back to the newsroom, my pinkies sticking out from my mug like tiny airplane wings. I was standing in the no-man’s-land between the morgue and sports when the elevator doors parted and Aubrey stepped out. As bad as she looked all day, she looked even worse now. Her hair was hanging like broomstraw from a Cleveland Indians ballcap. She was wearing a baggy tee shirt and even baggier sweatpants. She also was wearing the new pink mules. She walked straight for me. “Tinker called you in, too?”
I sipped and nodded.
“Christ-I wasn’t asleep five minutes.”
“That’s five minutes more than I had. Any idea what he wants?”
Her hands were tucked under her armpits. She was twisting nervously. “Some question about my story-I can’t believe he called you in, too.”
“I wish he hadn’t.”
We stood there, Aubrey twisting, me sipping. Finally Tinker popped out of the elevator. Another man, middle-aged and bald, was with him. They walked straight to Aubrey’s desk on the fringe of the metro department. It was a minute before midnight but both were wearing business suits. Tinker motioned for us to join them.
Tinker introduced the other man. “Aubrey, Maddy, this is Stan Craddock, his firm does legal work for the paper.”
Aubrey pulled back her hand after one short nibble of a shake. “So there’s a legal problem with my story?”
“Unfortunately,” Tinker said. “That’s why I wanted Maddy here. She was with you most of the time.” He asked Aubrey to call up her story for Wednesday.
She sat at her desk and clicked on her monitor. “It’s still running tomorrow, isn’t it?”
Said Tinker, “That’s why we’re here at midnight.”
Aubrey typed in her security code. The monitor’s sky blue screen filled with boxes. She called up her story.
