Isabella and Duncan were waiting for her as she was rolled to the back of the ambulance.
Addison smiled through her oxygen mask and reached up with her good arm to hug both of them. “It’s going to be all right now. Everything’s going to be fine,” she whispered in Duncan’s ear.
Chapter 37
“I’m going to miss having you around,” Addison watched as the taxi driver heaved one of Jaylynn’s suitcases into the trunk of a waiting cab sitting in the circled drive in front of the president’s pillared house. Two weeks after Lyndzee’s return, Jaylynn and her daughter were leaving Jubilant Falls forever, taking a plane to Atlanta.
“We had some pretty good times here in Jubilant, didn’t we?” Jaylynn, her arm draped protectively across Lyndzee’s shoulder, was almost back to her old polished self. Dressed in a light blue pair of dress pants with an off-white shell, a matching blue bolero jacket, and dyed-to-match flats, she turned back to look at the pillars of the president’s house. What was missing was the picture perfect hair and overdone makeup. Today, her hair was pulled simply into a ponytail and her make-up was less shellacked and more natural. It fit the comfortable feeling she projected about herself. “I’ve come a long way from the trailer park in Suwanee Bend, wouldn’t you say?”
“So what happens now?” Addison rubbed her left elbow, held firm against her side in a dark blue sling.
“Well, Seaford has till Friday to get out of the house. It really wasn’t any surprise that the board of directors fired him. He’s spending the rest of this week tying up some loose ends. We’ll see my mother for a few days, then I’ll start my job as a substance abuse counselor in Atlanta—the same place I met Seaford, coincidentally.”
“Do you have any bad feelings about going back there?”
“Not really. I mean, it’s where my life changed for the better.”
“What about the trial?”
“I don’t know. Lyndzee, honey, why don’t you go up to your room and make sure you’ve got everything you want to take.” Jaylynn patted her daughter on the shoulder and watched as the little girl ran back inside the house. “I hate talking about that in front of her, even though she saw more than I could ever think about.” Jaylynn sighed and continued. “Steve Adolphus called this morning to say Tina Andersen wants to plead guilty for killing Talley Lundgren, Rachel Wiseman, Roy Castlewheel and Harmon Ripsmatta in exchange for a life sentence.”
“I know. We’ll be running that in tomorrow’s paper. Four counts of murder and one of kidnapping—she could get death if Steve doesn’t want to accept her plea. There could still be a trial. That’s probably up to you, though. I knew you were leaving today and hoped to get a good quote from you, one way or another.” Addison adjusted the sling across her shoulder. Two more weeks and she’d be rid of this pain-in-the-ass contraption. Doctors had said she’d make a full recovery. Thank God Wiseman hadn’t shot her in her right arm or hand. This way she could at least still hold a reporter’s notebook and write.
“I didn’t want Lyndzee up on the stand, so I agreed with Mr. Adolphus. What I don’t understand is how Rachel Wiseman got the money out of the endowment fund.”
“She had plenty of help apparently. She was going to pay Castlewheel and Ripsmatta $250,000 each for kidnapping your daughter. She had the money in five or six separate accounts here in town and in Collitstown, just enough deposited so that the Federal Reserve wouldn’t have to be notified. Judy Lindeman is getting off with probation for testifying how that part of the scheme worked. From what Gary McGinnis told me, Ripsmatta and Castlewheel were supposed to grab Lyndzee when she walked over to the carryout and keep her for a couple weeks as punishment for Seaford dumping Wiseman.”
“And Tina wanted to punish Rachel for aborting Seaford’s baby.” Jaylynn shook her head. “I never suspected Rachel and Seaford—never in a million years. God knows how many women he slept with.”
“Yes, and in Tina’s mind the worst sin was not adultery or theft, but the abortion.”
Lyndzee’s footsteps echoed across the tiled porch. “I’ve got everything, Mommy.”
Addison reached out with her good arm and cupped the girl’s chin in her hand. Lyndzee’s bruises had healed and she seemed delighted to be home again. “You’re a pretty brave girl, you know it?” Addison said.
Lyndzee smiled and nodded. “I still miss Talley, though.”
“I know baby. He’s with Jesus now.” Jaylynn smoothed her daughter’s hair.
“I’m glad he’s with Jesus, Mommy, but I still miss him.”
Jaylynn smiled and nodded sadly, looking at Addison. “So what happens with you? How’s Isabella doing?” she asked.
“I think she’s going to be OK. We’ve got her medicine adjusted—the shaking has stopped for now. If it comes back, we’ll have to change medications.”
“What about you?”
“I’m healing—both my shoulder and my heart, you could say. I’m coming to terms with the fact that bipolar disorder can run in families. And in our case, it gallops. I just have to accept that.”
“And are you going to keep chasing stories too?”
“Glad you reminded me. I’ve got an interview in about an hour with a kid who looks pretty promising to fill that one reporter’s position. He’s just out of college, but he’s had a couple good internships. If he interviews well, I’ll probably hire him. His name is Graham Kinnon.”
“Well, I know you’ll train him right. Come here,” Jaylynn reached out her arms for a hug. “We’ve got a plane to catch.”
The two women embraced, and then Addison hugged Lyndzee.
“Well, goodbye,” Addison said.
The driver held the door open and, Jaylynn, blowing Addison a quick kiss and Lyndzee slid into the back seat. The driver slid back into the driver’s seat and, putting the car into gear, pulled away from the curb.
Addison waved until the cab was out of sight. Sighing, she walked the few steps to her own blue Taurus and slipped inside. Placing her one good hand on the wheel, she couldn’t bring herself to turn the key and drive away.
When would she be back here for the next big story? Who would fill the president’s shoes? Until the board made its choice, things at Golgotha College would go on as usual. Just as things in Jubilant Falls would do the same.
Addison would miss Jaylynn as well. Like most women, their friendship was a special part of her life, even though, when she thought about it, it just occupied one short season of her life.
Her cell phone buzzed from her purse on the passenger seat.
“Here we go again,” Addison said, grabbing the phone. She hit the ‘talk’ button and spoke: “McIntyre.”
She was silent for a moment. “Well, shit, Dennis, I left that scanner in the newsroom for a reason! That’s just the way my luck runs. I’ve got that interview for the cops’ reporter in forty-five minutes and with my arm in a sling, I’m not good for shit. How many are involved? Two cars? Any fatals? Has the Life Flight helicopter been notified? If it’s a fender-bender I’m not wasting my time.”
She listened for a few more seconds. “All right, I’m on my way. Send Pat, while you’re at it. If this isn’t a big deal, I’m coming back there and reaming you good!”
She listened as Dennis recounted the basic details: two cars had collided on the highway when one slammed on the brakes to avoid a deer jumping across four lanes of traffic. A semi pulling a load of lumber jackknifed behind the cars as the driver slammed on his brakes, sending his load of two by fours across the road. Injuries were minor, but the highway was shut down until everything could be cleared away. A quick interview with the troopers, a good shot from Pat—not a big deal. She’d be back in plenty of time for her interview.
“OK, I’ll get it.” She clicked off the call, and buckling her seat belt, turned on the ignition and pulled away from the curb. “God, I love my job.”
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the following people for their unwavering support in th
e pursuit of this dream: Doug, Merrilee, and the Mary’s in my life, who all told me I could do it and wouldn’t hear of any other course of action. They edited my work with careful detail, humor and sensitivity.
For Jennica, my favorite firefighter and reporter, on whom I relied so heavily for details on the best way to burn down barns. The things we learn on our jobs shouldn’t be discussed in polite company—but they’ll fit in this book.
For the faculty and creative writing students at Antioch University McGregor, without whom this thesis novel would ever occurred, I thank you for the most interesting educational experience of my life. Thanks to Jeanne Dams, Shelley Singer, Eleanor Taylor Bland, Dr. Kate Brooks and Dr. Jon Saari. You all taught me well.
And finally, my greatest thanks go to Greg, the man who loves me and buys me llamas, whether I need them or not.
About the author
Debra Gaskill is an award-winning journalist with more than 20 years experience in newspapers in Ohio. She has an associate’s degree in liberal arts from Thomas Nelson Community College in Hampton, Va., a bachelor’s degree in English and journalism from Wittenberg University and a master of fine arts degree in creative writing from Antioch University.
She and her husband Greg, a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel, reside in Enon, where they raise llamas and alpacas on their farm. They have two adult children and one grandson.
She is the author of three other Jubilant Falls novels, The Major’s Wife, Lethal Little Lies and Murder on the Lunatic Fringe.
Connect with Debra on her website at www.debragaskillnovels.com or on her blog, http://debragaskill.wordpress.com. You can also connect with her on Twitter at @Debra Gaskill.
If you liked this book, please leave a review on Amazon.com or the website where you purchased the book. Your support is greatly appreciated.
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