“Always.”
He smiled and put an arm around her. “You’re writing this with me, right?”
“I’ll tell you what I got from Enolia, but you can write. I’ll edit your story tonight. I want you to have this byline,” she said.
“No. It’s our story.” He stared her down.
She caved. “All right. But you’re the one who got Craig so upset he blew up my car.”
“Honey, your car isn’t the real victim here. Think of the Bentley!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alden blinked in the fluttering sunlight under the palm trees after he and Roz left the Comet Cove Sheriff’s Department the next morning. “You’d think they’d have better coffee in there.”
“I think crappy coffee is a point of pride for cops.”
“I have a mind to do something about that. Butter them up a little. Send them one of those fancy barista machines.”
“That’s too much,” Roz said. “I’ll send them a tray of coffees from Bean Me Up and a box of doughnuts from Cosmic Confections.”
“That sounds reasonable,” he said as they walked down the street toward his car. “They deserve a treat since they got Craig to confess to everything. Which means they don’t have to rely on me.”
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “Too bad Wayne can’t confess to his devious dealings. It would make it easier for Sebastian and others to get restitution from his estate. But Duke said it might be possible.”
“His only surviving relative is his estranged father, and they don’t think there’s a will, so maybe the lawyers can make it happen,” Alden said. “I can’t believe how many writers he was scamming.”
And not just in Comet Cove. There were a bunch of online victims, too. The police had dug a lot out of Wayne Vandershell’s laptop, including meticulous records of his earnings and how he spent them—on clothes and travel and ways to build up his scam.
“What a snake.” Roz sounded angry.
Alden flashed back to the plane crash and winced. “And he almost killed us. But our experience will give the story a very personal spin.”
“I don’t love it when news stories get personal, but you’re right.” She paused. “I’m not sure who was worse, Craig or Wayne. I almost feel sorry for Craig, the way Enolia used him.”
“Ha. Hard for me to feel sorry for the guy who almost blew us both up.”
“You think he was in love with her?” Roz asked.
“Utterly devoted. And I could see how her inscriptions to him in her books would’ve led him on. Her sleeping with him didn’t help. But he was no victim. What if that car bomb had exploded on Main Street?”
“I know. What he did is awful. But I kind of see why he lost it.”
Alden could see it, too, but he wasn’t forgiving Craig anytime soon. “So what’s our deadline?”
“John wants us to update the breaking news story online as quickly as possible, then turn around a more detailed chunky news feature for Friday’s print edition. Plus your Enolia profile.” Roz looked over at him. “She’s not going to like playing second fiddle to her assistant.”
“Maybe not. But I don’t think this is how Craig wanted to be in the spotlight,” Alden mused. “Especially since he has to face the consequences.”
He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for Roz, then got in the other side.
She sighed as he pulled out of the small parking lot, heading for their office. “Now I need to buy a car.”
“I could just drive you everywhere.”
“You’d drive me crazy.”
He laughed. “That’s my job.” He looked over to see her smile.
