“I am,” I answer again and the woman nods.
“I’ll be watching you. We will be watching you, right Lyle?” She elbows the man in the stomach and he coughs.
“Right, both eyes 24/7, doc. Three hundred and sixty-five.”
I don’t have to come up with an answer to that because Maris steps into view and points a finger at them.
“Stop threatening Julian and get in here or so help me!” Maris yells at them, and they both jump with a yelp.
“Coming right away, Maris!” They rush into the office, the door slamming shut behind them but not before I get one last look at my wife standing in the golden morning sun looking over the papers the two reporters brought her like a general going over battle plans.
She’s glorious, and she’s fucking mine.
Twenty-Two
MARIS
“That new doctor likes you,” Mary tells me for the fifteenth time.
“He’s just a friend,” I tell her and look at the photos she just brought in. “When did you have time to get these?” The photos aren’t high quality. They’re grainy, almost like they’ve been shot from a cell phone. I squint at one and shake it at her. “If we need a new camera, just let me know. We have more than enough in the endowment.”
It’s true, we do. There’s enough money to run the paper for the rest of my life and then some with twice the size of the staff we have now. Money isn’t the issue with the Vesper Point Call. The issue is me. We’re the only paper in town because no one else in town has the money to set up another publication, and Vesper Point isn’t big enough to draw in someone with the cash to do it. Even with a captive audience, the paper struggles because it has an albatross tied to its neck.
Me.
“I don’t want you using broken equipment if-”
“Camera’s fine,” Mary interrupts, coming to my side to look down at the photos on my desk, “I didn’t take those. An anonymous tipster got them for us.”
I tilt my head and look at Mary. “By anonymous tipster do you mean you bribed someone?”
“I’m not, not saying that.”
I sigh and look heavenward. “Mary…”
“Listen, drastic times call for drastic measures. How else do you think I’m going to get the scoop for us? We need this story, Maris.” I open my mouth to tell her absolutely no more bribing, but Mary plows ahead. “Look, Maris, I can break this story, we can break this story. We’re all good enough to do something real, and this is the first real thing we’ve had across our desk since,” Mary falls quiet. She stops herself from finishing her sentence but I know what she doesn’t say.
I say it for her. “Since Mike Sheep.”
It’s true.
The night I killed Mike Sheep is the last time this town had any real news. I was so checked out from life at that point that I wasn’t here. Not really. Mary, Josie, Greg, and Lyle, they ran the Vesper Point Call. They kept the ship afloat when I was drowning. It’s one of the reasons they’ll always have a job with me, so long as they want it, I’m stuck with them.
“Yeah, since him,” Mary gives me a tight smile. “Fucking loser.”
I smile back at her. “He was a loser, and you’re right, you are good enough to break this story. I respect the willingness to do whatever it takes. Just don’t get caught.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Mary and I go over the photos. The wound on Father Paretti’s neck is peculiar. I stare at the one photo that’s crystal clear until I feel cross-eyed. Two fucking puncture wounds. I turn the photo one way and then the other with a sigh.
“This can’t be right. You’re positive he was drained?”
“Like a box of wine at mommy brunch,” Mary replies.
Josie knocks on the doorway, Lyle is with her. “We’re going to go grab lunch at the diner before the Sheriff gives his statement. You want anything?” she asks Mary and I.
I almost say no but my stomach growls. Right. I never ate my wrap. I forgot all about it and by the time I opened the bag I found a deconstructed interpretation of a breakfast wrap inside.
