“Sure you can, I know you’re running the
“We’re not hiring.”
“Don’t make me go to Murray-you know he’ll hire me.”
That made her stop. She pirouetted back toward me, looking annoyed. “Except that he gave me the last word on staffing in my contract. Like I said, we’re not hiring, but even if we were, we would hire someone who would stick around more than a couple of weeks before he went off to something
“I told you, I’m here for good.”
She turned and began walking away again as if to say she wouldn’t even dignify the statement with an answer-this time her strut had finality to it. She kept getting farther away-like a dream of mine where she keeps getting smaller and smaller, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
Without turning, she bellowed back at me, “We’re not interested in your services at the time, Mr. Warner, but thank you for your interest.”
“I don’t know why not-I was just offered the highest salary of anyone in the history of the news business today. I think that would be quite a coup for the
“You use the term
“I’ll work for free.”
“We can’t afford that much.”
“I’ll pay
I knew her stubborn pride wouldn’t allow her to accept the Gross National Product of Japan to hire me, but I kept shouting, and receiving many strange looks from the fair-goers.
“I’ll give you exclusive rights to my first interview since the hostage crisis. All the major networks would kill for it.”
“That’s the thing that makes you great, JP. Most people waste so much time trying to conceal their inflated opinions of themselves. But not you.”
“You’ll sell more papers than you will the next three years combined!”
The
All I could do was watch her long legs glide away. I continued watching as she reached into her purse and pulled out a cell phone.
My stomach sank.
She pushed her long hair behind her ear, and answered a call. Maybe Jones was calling her. Whatever was said, it stopped her in her tracks-a jolting stop. She dropped the phone back in her purse and began jogging back in my direction. Her face filled with dread.
I had often dreamed of Gwen desperately running toward me, but I got the feeling this time there would be no leaping into each other’s arms and kissing like there was no tomorrow, like in the dream.
When she reached me, she said, “It’s your brother, JP-it’s Noah.”
Part Three
Chapter 32
“Are you almost ready?” shouted Lucy Enriquez.
Kyle took another glance in the mirror, playing with his short-cropped hair. He was admittedly pretty average in all regards, from his looks to his medium height, and he certainly wasn’t one of those charmers who could captivate a room with his personality. So he was as surprised as most that he was able to attract such a desirable girlfriend as Lucy, even if she wasn’t always a ray of sunshine.
When he stepped into the foyer, he immediately stopped in his tracks. Lucy looked annoyed, as usual, but also beautiful. He was drawn to the dark curls that fell onto her tanned shoulders like she just appeared out of a shampoo commercial. At work, where she was his commanding officer, she always wore a ponytail and little makeup, along with the stiff blue and gold police uniform. It had nothing on this sizzling pink number she was wearing for the picnic.
“Wow,” was all he could say.
She smiled. “Don’t even think you can charm your way out of making us late, Kyle Jones.”
After spending most of his life in the military, he’d never been late for anything. But since becoming a “civilian,” and meeting Lucy, his outlook had changed on a lot of things.
“Should I see if Grady wants to join us tonight?” he asked, already bracing for the answer.
Her smile suddenly disappeared, and she looked like she was fighting back every urge to lash out. It reminded him of Mount St. Helens, a dormant volcano three hours from Seattle, where he went on the anniversary of his parents’ death to spread their ashes, as was their request. He knew that Lucy could erupt at any moment.
“It’s not bad enough that you pay his rent-now you’re going to subsidize a night out for him?”
“Shh … he’s in the next room.”
“I really don’t care, Kyle!” her voice raised. “He sits on the couch all day watching that stupid murder trial, hoping you’ll feel sorry for him and keep supporting his free ride!”
“He’s been sick, Lucy, and he’s had some tough luck.”
When Kyle left the Air Force, law enforcement felt like a natural transition. As an “army brat” who’d lived everywhere from Germany to Lake Cumberland, Kentucky, he welcomed putting down roots in Gilbert, which was near Luke Air Force Base, his last stop in the military. It provided a stability he thought he’d never find again after the deaths of his parents.
But post-military life had been a struggle for Grady. He was lethargic and sick all the time, and blamed it on a mysterious illness the media was calling Gulf War Syndrome. This was completely different from the Grady Benson that Kyle remembered from their Air Force days. Back then, he was one of the most brash and daring pilots that Kyle had ever known. And when he wasn’t flying, Grady spent his time on the ski slopes and rollerblading around the base.
But that man had vanished. This Grady would sit on the couch, watching endless hours of the OJ Simpson murder trial. He talked about the players as if they were his friends-Kato, Marcia, Johnnie, and Judge Ito.
Grady had bounced from menial job to menial job. Each one that didn’t work out seemed to sap more energy from him, adding to his bitterness. But the bigger issue for Kyle was the strain Grady placed on his relationship with Lucy. And when she sighed again-this time like a dragon exhaling fire-Kyle knew he was on unsteady ground. He’d found out the hard way that three sighs meant no sex for a week.
“He’s been to all those doctors and they haven’t found one thing wrong with him. Not one thing!”
“Come on, Lucy,” Kyle pleaded. He tried to put his arm around her, but she pulled away. “Please keep it down-he’s in the next room.”
Her voice rose again in defiance. “Tell me why you put up with it!?”
“You don’t understand-we have fought the same battles.”
“I
“By battles, I don’t just mean the war.”
Lucy took a deep breath to fight off her frustration, and attempted a calmer approach, “Kyle-it’s tragic what
