Read Online Black Tide by Brendan DuBois - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brendan DuBois
Tags: USA
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back upstairs, Paula Quinn was there, sitting at her desk and typing on her Digital computer terminal. Her blond hair was curled back from the front in a sort of half-flip, and she had on a short denim skirt and a plain black T-shirt that had a pocket over the left side. The desks at the Chronicle are a collection of wooden and metal antiques, and about the only modern things in the office were the Digital computers, with terminal cables leading up to the ceiling. The computers looked out of place in an office where holes in the carpet had been repaired with gray duct tape, but Paula had confided in me one night that the only reason management had purchased the computers was that it allowed them to fire a staff of typesetters and to save money on wages and future retirement benefits.
I sat in a folding chair next to her desk that had "Property of Spenser Funeral Home" stenciled on the back. She looked up at me, gave me a quick smile, and said, "It's a busy morning, Lewis."
"I'm sure it is. What are you working on? Our headless and handless diver?"
"Nope," she said, eyes staring ahead at the glowing screen of her terminal, her hands click-clicking on the keyboard. "State liquor store got robbed about an hour ago, out on 1-95."
"Got a minute to talk?" I asked.
She was quiet, not saying anything, just typing along, so I reached up to the rear of the Digital terminal and found the power switch and clicked it off. Her hands froze in mid-motion and then she looked up at me, her eyes fixed and unyielding. Then she turned and yelled out at Rollie, "I'm taking a five-minute break, Rollie. I'll be back time for deadline."
She reached behind her, pulled out her leather handbag and swung it around, and then stormed out of the office. I followed her and looked over at Rollie, who was popping another breath mint into his mouth and rolling his eyes.
When we got outside we walked in silence for a moment or so heading to the Tyler Town Common, which was adjacent to the office building that contained the Chronicle. Park benches were set up under the birches and near some flowerbeds maintained by the Tyler Garden Club. We sat on one of the green benches, which faced out to downtown Tyler and Route 1.
She folded her arms and said, "Well, if you wanted to get my attention, Lewis, you certainly succeeded."
"Thanks," I said. "Seems like I haven't been able to do that the past few weeks."
"Hunh," she said, staring out at the traffic going by, lost summer people no doubt, knowing that they were in Tyler but surprised at not finding the beach in the downtown area.
"Suppose you think I owe you an apology."
"Maybe so," I said. "Or maybe some words, Paula, about what's going on here."
She attempted a laugh and refolded her arms and said, '”Well, since we both make a living in words, I suppose this should be easy to do. Here's the condensed recap, Lewis. One day in June, you and a prominent citizen of this resort town enter the marshes near Falconer. You come out and they find this citizen dead with a slashed throat. Story comes out, linking our prominent person to a couple of murders. You give me some great background info about what happened, and I probably write the best series of stories I've ever done. Then I come over to your place, to celebrate and thank you and, I guess, to see how you were doing."
I started to speak and she held up a hand. "Please, let me go on. So I spend the night, Lewis, and yes, it was quite enjoyable. In my own little heart, I'm thinking, well, maybe this is the start of something. Not talking commitment or marriage or any of that crap. Maybe it's just the start of something that I haven't had in a long while. Well, that particular thought lasts a few hours, when I get woken up by you cursing and yelling at some guy named George who isn't even there. You won't tell me shit about what's happening and so I leave a nice warm bed and some nice warm fantasies behind, and the next thing I learn --- and not from you,
I sat in a folding chair next to her desk that had "Property of Spenser Funeral Home" stenciled on the back. She looked up at me, gave me a quick smile, and said, "It's a busy morning, Lewis."
"I'm sure it is. What are you working on? Our headless and handless diver?"
"Nope," she said, eyes staring ahead at the glowing screen of her terminal, her hands click-clicking on the keyboard. "State liquor store got robbed about an hour ago, out on 1-95."
"Got a minute to talk?" I asked.
She was quiet, not saying anything, just typing along, so I reached up to the rear of the Digital terminal and found the power switch and clicked it off. Her hands froze in mid-motion and then she looked up at me, her eyes fixed and unyielding. Then she turned and yelled out at Rollie, "I'm taking a five-minute break, Rollie. I'll be back time for deadline."
She reached behind her, pulled out her leather handbag and swung it around, and then stormed out of the office. I followed her and looked over at Rollie, who was popping another breath mint into his mouth and rolling his eyes.
When we got outside we walked in silence for a moment or so heading to the Tyler Town Common, which was adjacent to the office building that contained the Chronicle. Park benches were set up under the birches and near some flowerbeds maintained by the Tyler Garden Club. We sat on one of the green benches, which faced out to downtown Tyler and Route 1.
She folded her arms and said, "Well, if you wanted to get my attention, Lewis, you certainly succeeded."
"Thanks," I said. "Seems like I haven't been able to do that the past few weeks."
"Hunh," she said, staring out at the traffic going by, lost summer people no doubt, knowing that they were in Tyler but surprised at not finding the beach in the downtown area.
"Suppose you think I owe you an apology."
"Maybe so," I said. "Or maybe some words, Paula, about what's going on here."
She attempted a laugh and refolded her arms and said, '”Well, since we both make a living in words, I suppose this should be easy to do. Here's the condensed recap, Lewis. One day in June, you and a prominent citizen of this resort town enter the marshes near Falconer. You come out and they find this citizen dead with a slashed throat. Story comes out, linking our prominent person to a couple of murders. You give me some great background info about what happened, and I probably write the best series of stories I've ever done. Then I come over to your place, to celebrate and thank you and, I guess, to see how you were doing."
I started to speak and she held up a hand. "Please, let me go on. So I spend the night, Lewis, and yes, it was quite enjoyable. In my own little heart, I'm thinking, well, maybe this is the start of something. Not talking commitment or marriage or any of that crap. Maybe it's just the start of something that I haven't had in a long while. Well, that particular thought lasts a few hours, when I get woken up by you cursing and yelling at some guy named George who isn't even there. You won't tell me shit about what's happening and so I leave a nice warm bed and some nice warm fantasies behind, and the next thing I learn --- and not from you,
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