by Lily LaVae
“You’re an ass, Gage Lewison.”
“And you’re a know-it-all. Get the hell out of here and let me do my job.” He flung the door open and slammed it shut behind him.
Melody watched the door briefly and gave up. She couldn’t follow him into the house and time was running out. “You’d better come through, Gage,” she mumbled as she turned and headed back to her car. “Or I’ll have to do what my boss wants and then no one will be happy.”
Chapter 4
The door to the little storefront that acted as the newspaper headquarters wouldn’t budge when she tugged on it. Melva had locked up early and Melody needed her key to get in the back door, meaning she’d have to walk all the way around the block. Gage hadn’t come through and now she needed to put down a minimum of five hundred words that hinted at foul play but didn’t come right out and say it. It would be a lie to do otherwise.
Her future boss would hate it, assuming the aging woman would still hire her at all.
Melva was the one who had tipped her off to watch those houses within Devastation Circle, that DemaCrane was in the business of getting just what it wanted, no matter who got hurt. Melva would take the dryer suggestion as an insult. Hell, she’d taken it as an insult. The blasted jerk wouldn’t even look at her as anything but a college kid with lofty ideas. And maybe ideals.
Melody yanked open the back door and slunk to her dark cubicle, flipped on the light, and slid into the desk she’d been granted temporarily. She glanced over her notes. Either way she wrote the story, her future would change. She opened her laptop. A blank page stared at her and every doubt nagged in her head. For as big as she tried to sound, she was fresh out of college and still not sure what to do. She could please Gage, because she needed him to stay on her side. He’d never help her again if she didn’t. Or, she could please her future boss and have a job. But she couldn’t do both.
“I was wondering if you were going to ever write that story.” Melva fell into the chair on the opposite side of her desk. Her white hair lay flat over her voluminous forehead, making her colorless eyes beady.
“I was waiting to hear back from the investigator.” She flipped to an empty page in her notebook, hopeful that Melva would just let her do the work that had to get done and wouldn’t see what she’d been mulling over. She didn’t want to be there all night, and the story wouldn’t come easy as it was.
“And did you learn that the fire department in Santinas is less than heroic? They could barely put out a dog house fire, much less take care of a residence. They’re too busy with their other jobs and drinking on Friday nights to take note of one little fire. They probably don’t even know how to handle it, since things like this don’t happen here. This is why I want to hire you, Melody. You’re young, energetic. You need to be the investigator. Take what I told you and build on it. Find out the truth. Make those firemen look foolish so the city will be prepared to watch out. If you don’t, there will be more fires. You know it’s true.” Huge colorful wooden beads on her necklace swung back and forth as she moved to her own sermon.
“When I first moved here, Chief Hayes had it out for me. He called the paper a rag and wouldn’t help me at all. I will give that department no leeway. They are buffoons. All of them.”
Melody had spent hours looking up other little New Mexico towns where DemaCrane had come in, after Melva had told her about them. Not a single one had wanted the resorts to be built, but all were now up and running. Every town had a strange surge in crime right before acceptance of DemaCrane’s offer, and returned to normal after. In hindsight, it was plain as day. But would Gage look, like she’d told him to? Melva wouldn’t let her leave it up to him, not with her distrust, and he’d run out of time.
“Who was your contact?” Melva pursed fuchsia lips, the color bleeding into the wrinkles around the edges of her mouth.
“Gage Lewison. He didn’t believe me when I presented my credentials though. That has to be why he hasn’t gotten back to me.”
“No, he hasn’t gotten back to you because today isn’t his day to volunteer at the department. He’s on call as an EMT. Chief Hayes chose as his investigator the one man on their tiny crew who works more than seventy hours a week, probably thinking he’d never need him anyway. Fool.” Melva smacked her lips.
Melody cringed. Despite his behavior, he had been professional. Maybe not with her, but she hadn’t been professional with him, either. He had done his job though. “Well, he didn’t call me. What would you have me write?”
“The truth, just as I told you to write it.”
She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t name a company as an arsonist and hope that she wouldn’t get sued. “Gage speculated that it was a faulty dryer.” She mumbled, almost wishing she didn’t have to throw out every possibility, but if she didn’t, she might end up printing a false story.
“And you believed that?” Melva’s words cut deep. Her head journalism professor at Middle New Mexico Community College had called her naïve too.
Right before graduation, summer had loomed just out of reach, and she’d been excited to get away, start a new life. The classroom had been hot and everyone had poured from the room fast at the end of the period. Professor Leiken had pulled her aside as she’d been leaving his class, then waited for the last person to leave.
“Melody.” He’d gently pushed her hair behind her ear, caressing the tender skin. “You’re going to need to provide some extra credit after that far too idealistic article you wrote for your final. I know you believe in your sweet little heart that what you wrote is right, but it just isn’t. It’s fantasy. You never see the truth lurking somewhere between the two rights.” He tugged her closer until she could feel him hard against her thigh. “No matter how hard I try to teach you.” His voice drummed in her ear as he pressed and rubbed his body against hers. He’d explained that each side of a story thought they were right, and the truth was murky, prowling somewhere in the middle, all while groping and pinching her breasts.
His hand moved possessively up her body to her neck and yanked her closer, taking her mouth as he always did, turned on by the open door and the chance they could be discovered. She knew it wasn’t really her that made him so hard. He’d chosen her as his pet early on, as a freshman, and had helped her all four years, and he’d helped himself to her whenever he pleased. She didn’t care about him, didn’t love the sex with him, but he was her mentor and she wanted to please him more intellectually than she did physically, but she’d never managed it. Now, he was in her past and would stay there.
But was she still so idealistic?
“No, I didn’t believe it. He was covering for something. I told him to check out the DemaCrane angle, make sure the fire hadn’t been set. I don’t know if he believed me, but I could tell by how he reacted that the dryer was a cover.” Though she wanted to believe him, he hadn’t helped her, and if she had to choose, she would write the story and get the job.
“Then, I think you know what to write. You must warn people there might be an arsonist among them. You have to warn them that their heroes are impotent fools, unwilling to take a stand. It’s up to you to make sure DemaCrane knows, without naming them, that we’re on to them.”
“You don’t think it would be best to wait at least until the preliminary report comes out? This will be news to the Moens. They haven’t heard from Gage yet.” He’d warned her that they deserved to hear first, but those in Devastation Circle needed to know and worry, too.
Melva stood and leaned on both palms, hovering over her. “If he hasn’t gotten to the Moens, then you get to them first for next week’s story. He is governed by reports and clues and red tape that will take him more time than you’ll ever be granted to write a story. You are not. You need to learn to leave what you think is right at the door and print what will not only sell papers, but will get the most information to the people. Stir them into action. That’s your job. You need to learn to investigate and not rely on someone else. If we don
’t sell papers, we close up.”
There were no other papers close by, not even any really close towns other than Blackjack and that wasn’t happening. While it wasn’t a huge town, it was way too big for her. She’d chosen Santinas because she hadn’t wanted a big newspaper with the potential of having a boss like her professor. The small-town paper had been perfect with the little old lady as her editor. Until she’d gotten to know the little old lady.
“Now, since you know what to do. I’ll leave you to it. Don’t disappoint me, Redding.” Melva stood, collected a messenger bag from her desk, and strode out the back.
The only light on in the office was the one at Melody’s desk and the glow from the computer screen before her. As easy as Melva made it sound, it wasn’t. Her story could ruin Gage’s career, especially if she called him and his department impotent. It would make him look like an idiot and even from their few interactions, she could surmise he was not only good at what he did, he commanded respect both from his crew and the town. It was exactly what she’d refused to give him, thinking that if she badgered him, he would bend. No man would lord his position over her like her professor had, ever again.
It had been too easy to let Leiken slip into the role of a controlling figure in her life. He’d even insisted she call him “sir” during sex and had controlled her every move. He’d even spanked her with a wooden ruler for disobeying him. Neither Gage, nor any other man would have so much power over her again.
She hit the home screen on her phone and it showed she had five texts waiting for her, most likely all were from Leiken. She hit the button just in case Gage had sent a text instead of calling, though that seemed unlikely. After watching his immaculate, almost tight behavior at the fire, she decided he was too tidy—too afraid to leave loose ends—to text. None were from Gage and she pursed her lips and slammed the home button.
He’d left her hanging and now she had to come up with something. She hated to do it, but if he’d been easier to work with, she might not have had to. He hadn’t given her his number to follow up, so she couldn’t call him. It was too late to look all over town for him. The story had to be written. Unfortunately, it would be written Melva’s way, not Melody’s, and certainly not Gage’s.
She just hoped that when all was said and done, he would still talk to her. Melody poised her fingers over the keyboard as her phone rang. Livy’s face popped up and Melody breathed a quick sigh at the reprieve.
She hit the answer and then the speaker button. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself. It’s Friday and I don’t have to be at the game tonight. Why am I sitting at your apartment, alone?” Livy Austin wined. “I spend all week at school with ninth grade boys trying to look up my skirts. I need a beer and I need to talk.”
“There’s your first problem, stop wearing skirts.” Melody laughed. “I can’t join you quite yet. I have a story to write.” It sounded better to her as a story, because some would find it about as fictional as Frankenstein.
“How long?”
“You left beer in my fridge. Have at it. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Save me one, I’m going to need it.”
Livy was silent for a moment. “You don’t even usually like to drink more than a glass of wine. Why will you need one?”
She pressed her thumbs to the sides of her head as a headache pounded to the center of her skull. “I’m about to take a man down who I didn’t plan to, so I can eventually take down another man who deserves it.”
“Harsh. I gotta say, after being in a classroom for a year now, the greater good concept doesn’t really work. You think you’re doing something that sounds right and will help everyone, but someone always figures out what you’ve done to manipulate the system and they just out-manipulate you. Just make sure you don’t put yourself in a position to be…fixed.”
Being a journalist came with some risk, but Gage wouldn’t do anything but get mad, and probably tell her off next time she needed more information. The problem was, if DemaCrane had chosen arson as their weapon of choice, she would need Gage on her side.
“I don’t know how to do my job like my boss wants and not throw this guy under the bus. It just isn’t possible. I’ll get this written and come join you. I have to have it done in time to send to my boss by ten, or it won’t print in time for the Sunday paper.”
“I had no idea they could turn it around that fast. Well, I’ll save you one, but you better hurry.” Melody heard Livy crack open a beer.
The line went silent and Melody stared at her phone for a minute, willing Gage to call. If he didn’t call just then, she would have to give up and just write it. She licked her lips and set to writing just as her new boss wanted. At least she was good at doing that.
Chapter 5
Gage set his coffee down on the counter and reached for the lid as Chief Hayes yelled from his office, “Lewison, you still here?”
“Yeah, I’m here. What can I do for you, sir?” He leaned around the corner to the chief’s office. He’d been planning to grab a cup of coffee, go get some groceries, and take one last look at the burn site before he went to his real job, since he’d lost so much time talking to Melody last time. But he’d give the man as long as he needed and adjust his schedule if he had to.
“Sit.” Hayes tapped his desk with a massive index finger. The newspaper spread out over the desk like a tablecloth wasn’t a usual fixture. The chief rarely took the time to read it.
Gage sat and set his coffee on the desk. “Do you need me for something?” Hayes rarely looked that angry. The veins on his neck were bright red and his eye twitched slightly.
“Tell me this didn’t happen so I can call down to that paper and tell them where the bear shits in the woods. You were quoted in the paper as saying, ‘Combative? You haven’t even begun to see me combative.’ In response to the question, ‘What will you do if this is found to be a case of arson?’” The chief’s eyebrows rose. “Just who are you planning to fight? This paper also insinuates that we had little to do with the fire investigation after the fact and were inept and incompetent with the evidence pulled from the wreckage. I wasn’t even aware there was evidence pulled, so I assume if there was it was handled well. What does this reporter know that I don’t? Did you say anything like this to her? She quotes you by name. I can’t even tell you how bad this looks for our department.”
Gage took a deep breath and raked his hands down his face. Had he said those words? Certainly not to that question, but she’d recorded what he’d said and he would have to be careful what he claimed he did and didn’t say. He’d tried to control every single word from his mouth where she’d been concerned, yet she’d still used his words against him. Damned if he’d help her with her story now. “I think I did say that, but not in response to that question. She’s been hounding me since the fire for answers. I told her the family deserves those answers first and that made her angry.”
Hayes nodded, but pointed to the paper again. “This is what your city will read today. We have been shown up as fools and that will make people distrust us. You need to get that investigation finished, get ahold of this Redding and get it cleared up, pronto. She’d better be willing to print the truth, or I will be calling every law enforcement person I know and have that paper black balled. They will never get any information from us again if they don’t.”
The rookie had been looking for a home run and instead had hit a foul ball. “I have her number. I’ll try to finish at the site then write up my report today and get everything taken care of.”
“What have you found?” the chief asked. “There can’t be much of a story, it was just a residential fire. They happen.”
He’d finished looking at the incendiary device at the Moen home when he’d been there on Thursday. There had been a remote mechanism in the top that had been tripped and had blown the top and the door of the dryer off , starting the fire. He hadn’t seen anything like it in his training and the detonator was so destroyed from the blast and getting lodg
ed in the top of the dryer that it was of little help. He’d left it in the evidence locker to show the chief when he’d figured out more about it, but he hadn’t had time to do any hunting.
“Actually, I’m fairly sure it was set. I left my report on your desk.” He scanned the messy area, but didn’t see it. “I just don’t know how to go about investigating it. Not only was this a fire, it was a bomb. I don’t have the kind of expertise needed to track down an arsonist like this. Not yet.” He hated to admit his failure to Hayes, but he was only a small-town volunteer fireman.
The chief scattered papers around, but it only made the mess worse. Clearly, he was just as stressed by the fire as his men. “The guys over in Albuquerque might be able to help you if you think you need to go that far away, or the department in Blackjack. Call around and find resources. We need to have this figured out fast. This little reporter will eat her words, but it will only matter if we fix it before everyone forgets what the original story was about. They’ll remember the dirt, but not the fire. The longer we wait, the more people will only remember what they read first.”
“Yes, sir.” He’d be happy to make her have a taste of what she’d done to them, to him. He hadn’t trusted her, but he’d still said more to her than he ever should’ve, thinking she was just a fresh-out-of-college kid, and would print whatever story she was fed. That was what most reporters seemed to do. Even if her boss told her to write that story, he’d told her enough that what she wrote was still a lie.
He’d let her bring her rude behavior and attitude because he hadn’t really believed she was a threat. Now he knew better. She couldn’t be trusted. He had to consider her the enemy. She’d tarnished his name with her quote. Now, this was personal.