Mark stuck his head in the cubicle doorway. “Do you have Bertha’s article ready yet?”
His curt tone grated on her nerves. Since the Fourth of July picnic, they’d avoided each other. When they had to interact, communication on both sides was short and to the point.
“I’m working on it now.” She nodded at the computer screen and kept typing.
“I needed it Friday.”
“I didn’t get it until today.”
“A reminder to Bertha might have helped.”
She stopped typing and swung around to face him. “She’s been writing this column for years,” she snapped. “She didn’t need a reminder—she had an excuse. Her husband was in the hospital having emergency surgery.”
He straightened and took a step backward. “Oh, I didn’t know—” Then his chin shot up. “Okay, get it to me as soon as you can.”
“Yes, sir.” She gave a little salute.
“And here are some assignments to consider.” Instead of entering her cubicle, he leaned in only far enough to slide a paper onto her desk.
She glanced at it. “Assignments?”
“Right. You do work here, don’t you?”
“Uh, as an editor.”
“We’re a small outfit, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
She sat back and folded her arms. “Oh, I’ve noticed all right.”
“We editors do double duty. And since I know more about what’s going on in this town than you do, it falls to me to come up with, for want of a better word, assignments.”
“Okay, so what are they?” She picked up the paper and studied it. “‘Attending the upcoming city-council meeting.’ Hmm, we discussed that, and I said pass. ‘New store opening in the mini-mall.’ Hmm, that ought to be exciting. ‘Groundbreaking ceremony for the new homeless shelter.’” She paused to look up. “Are you sure I can handle all this?”
“Actually, I’m not. I’m afraid you’ll be too busy checking out what everyone is wearing to focus on the news part.”
She glared. “Cultivating a fashion sense might help the denizens of Willow Beach.”
“Just take care of these, will you?”
Before she could reply, he turned and stalked off.
She stared at his retreating back. Their Independence Day kiss at the park must have really unraveled him. Not that she’d been so calm herself since then.
She straightened and swiped a palm over her forehead, as if to chase away the memory. Letting Mark kiss her—and, okay, kissing him back—was a mistake. They had no future. As soon as her year was up, she was out of here.
*
EVA WAS PUTTING the finishing touches on Bertha’s article when the phone on her desk rang. A deep voice said, “Hey, Eva, Boyd Carlstrom here. Remember me?”
Eva sat up straight. “Dad’s old friend and partner? Of course I do!”
“Been a while, hasn’t it? Haven’t seen you since your dad and I split up. Heard about your glitzy job in Seattle. Good for you.”
“Thanks, Boyd, but that’s been put on hold.” She couldn’t help letting a note of regret creep into her voice.
“I know.”
His voice dropped as though he understood and sympathized.
“I was sorry to hear about Seb,” Boyd went on. “I couldn’t make the memorial ’cause I was traveling. Read about it, though. In the Herald. Whoever did the write-up did a super job.”
“That would be me.” His compliment lifted her spirits.
“Always knew you were a fine journalist. So now you’re taking over the newspaper.”
“No, no. Mark Townson and I are coeditors, and it’s only temporarily.”
“We need to talk, Eva. Can you get away for lunch?”
His seriousness piqued her interest. “Lunch? Sure. It’d be good to see you again.”
“Will today work?”
Eva didn’t have to check her calendar to know she had nothing planned. “Today would be fine.”
“Good. I’ll see you at the Beach Café at twelve-thirty.”
*
A FRESH OCEAN BREEZE ushered Eva into the restaurant at exactly twelve-thirty. She looked around, remembering the night she’d been here with Mark after their jog on the beach.
The hostess, dressed in a red-and-blue print dress that echoed the restaurant’s decor, stepped forward. “Eva, welcome to Beach Café.”
“Thanks. And you’re Margaret, Guy’s wife, right? We met at the picnic.”
“I am. Guy loves freelancing for the Herald. He says it makes his boring day job easier to tolerate.”
Eva smiled to herself. Boring day job. That was what she would call working at the Herald. But to each his own, as the saying went.
“Are you meeting Mark?” Margaret glanced quickly at the reservation book sitting on the counter.
Why would she ask that? “Uh, no…”
Another gust of wind signaled the opening of the front door and Boyd Carlstrom strode in, although lumbered might have been more accurate. He’d gained quite a bit of weight in the years since Eva had seen him. He wore baggy tan slacks, a dark brown sports jacket and a white shirt open at the collar. His windblown white hair swirled around his head like ocean froth.
“Good timing, Eva,” he boomed in the deep-as-a-well voice she’d heard over the phone. He carried a black attaché case and extended his free hand. A ruby ring that looked familiar caught her eye.
She took his hand and let him do the pumping. “Boyd. Good to see you.”
Boyd turned to Margaret. “I have a reservation.”
She nodded. “Got it right here in my book.”
Margaret led them to a window table overlooking the sunlit beach and handed them menus.
Boyd set his case on the floor. He opened his menu and peered at Eva over the top. “I’m starved. Order first, then we’ll talk.”
Eva nodded and studied the selections. A waiter appeared and took Boyd’s order for a calamari appetizer, onion rings and a beer. Eva inwardly cringed at the combination and chose the crab salad and an iced tea.
After the waiter left, Boyd sat back and studied Eva. “Remember when I brought you a teddy bear?”
Eva smiled. “I was just getting over measles. Mom wouldn’t let you bring it into my room, though.”
A soft smile crossed his lips. “Janice looked after all of us, didn’t she?”
“Yes, she was a caring person.” Eva looked down and smoothed the napkin on her lap.
“What a shame she went at such a young age. And then losing Brett. What an ordeal that was. I thought Seb would cash it in himself—I really did. That was no picnic for you, either.”
Eva grasped her napkin and twisted it hard. “Please, I’d rather not talk about that. The…accident was a long time ago.”
Boyd looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
The waiter came with their drinks. Boyd grabbed his glass of beer and took a long swallow, then cleared his throat. “Why doncha tell me about that glitzy job of yours?”
“All right.” That was a safe subject, and he looked genuinely interested.
She told him about her work at Seattle’s Best, including her disappointment at having her rising career interrupted. He listened and nodded and asked an occasional question.
She was still talking when the waiter came with their meals. Eva took a bite of her crab salad, then said, “Now it’s your turn. What have you been doing since you left the Herald? Did you quit the newspaper business?”
Boyd’s laughter boomed into the room, causing several diners to turn their heads. “Quit? No. On the contrary, I’m in the biz more than ever.”
“So you work at another newspaper?”
He dipped an onion ring in hot sauce, then popped it into his mouth. He chewed, his cheeks bulging until he swallowed. “I own newspapers. Many newspapers.” He straightened and puffed out his chest.
“Small-town ones, like the Herald?”
“I’ll show ya.” He reached down, snapped open t
he attaché case and pulled out a handful of tabloid-size newspapers. He shoved his plate aside and tossed them onto the table. “The Morganville Messenger.” He pointed to the logo on the top paper, flipped that aside and pointed to the next one. “The Drayton Chronicle.”
He went through the stack, reading each logo. There were eight in all.
When he looked up at Eva, pride shone in his eyes. “All weeklies, just like the Herald.”
“My goodness, how did you acquire all these?”
“One at a time, one at a time.”
She wanted to ask where he’d come up with the money, but that was none of her business.
“That’s very impressive, Boyd.” Eva pulled the Morganville Messenger over to her side of the table. “This looks like a, uh, nice paper.”
He smiled knowingly. “Oh, I know, not glitzy like Seattle’s Best. But that’s why I especially wanted to meet with you today.”
She sat straight, alert, even a little wary. “What’s on your mind, Boyd?”
“For starters, I know you’re back in Willow Beach because of Seb’s will.”
She shrugged. “No surprise there. I’m sure everyone in town knows that.” She waited for him to continue.
He leaned forward, his brown eyes intense. “Listen, Eva, when your year is up and you’re free to go, I want to buy your half of the newspaper.”
She should’ve seen that coming. “You want to buy me out?”
“Right. I know you won’t want to stay here. You just told me a few minutes ago about the bad memories. You don’t want to live with them in your backyard, do you?”
He was more perceptive than Eva would have guessed. She stared at her plate. “You’re right, I won’t stay here. The minute my time’s up, I’m heading back to Seattle. It’s my home now, whether I have a job waiting for me or not.”
“I’m sure you can find something to your liking. A talented writer like you.”
“Thanks for the confidence. But your offer is a bit premature. I have ten months left to go.”
“I learned the hard way it pays to be on top of a situation well in advance.”
She wondered if he was talking about his breakup with her father. “What went wrong between you and Seb anyway? I was in college at the time. All I remember is coming home one summer and you were gone. Dad never said what happened.”
“All right, I’ll tell you. But let me start at the beginning. Seb and I met years ago, at the U, where we were frat brothers.” He held up the hand sporting the ruby ring.
“I know. Dad had a ring just like that.”
“Yep. Good ole Phi Mu. We had a lotta good times. That’s where he met Janice. Her sorority and our fraternity got together for a dance. Actually, I met her first. She and I went out for several months. I was about to give her my ring—that’s what we did in those days—but then one day while we were in the student union having coffee, Seb came by.” He set his jaw and looked out the window. “And that was the end of me and Janice.”
His voice had taken on a flat quality, and he absently twisted his ring.
Eva had never heard that story. “And?”
“And after graduation we went our separate ways. A few years later, we met again. I was writing ad copy for a manufacturing company, and Seb was working for the Herald. It went on the block. I was eager for something new. Seb and I pooled our resources, I secured a few loans, and we were in the newspaper business.”
“You’d married by then, hadn’t you?” Eva recalled a dour-faced woman with red hair and a sharp voice.
“That’s right. I just said goodbye to number three a couple months ago. Six kids altogether. Wonder how things would’ve turned out if I’d been the one to marry Janice. But then we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation, would we?”
He drained the last of his beer and set the glass down with more force than necessary. Leaning back, he stretched out his arms. “So what do you say? Do we have a deal?”
“But you’ll own only half of the newspaper. Mark will still own the other half. Unless by then he wants to leave, too.”
He shrugged. “Not for you to worry about, is it?”
“No, it’s not my worry.” She tapped her fingers on the table and looked at Boyd. “So, how much are you offering for my half?”
He raised his eyebrows. “So you are interested. Thought you would be.”
“I need to know the particulars.”
He named a sum that was well above what her research had told her the newspaper was worth. “That’s quite generous,” she said.
He grinned. “We could seal the deal today. All it takes is your signature.” He reached into the attaché case again, pulled out a sheaf of papers and laid them on top of the stack of newspapers.
“You really think the Herald is worth that much?”
“To me it is.” He plucked a pen from an inner jacket pocket and held it out. “Are you ready to do business?”
Eva stared at the pen and then at the sheets of slick white legal-size paper. Securing a sale now might be a good idea. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about what she’d do with her share come June. She held out her hand, ready to grasp the pen.
But something made her hesitate. A lot could happen in ten months, even though at the moment she couldn’t think of anything that would keep her in Willow Beach working for the Herald. She shook her head and let her hand drop into her lap. “As tempting as your offer is, I’m not prepared to sign anything today.”
His grin faded. He sat back and twirled the pen between his pudgy fingers. “Think you’ll change your mind about leaving? I doubt it.”
“No, I won’t change my mind. But even if I end up accepting your offer, I’ll want my lawyer to look over the deal before I sign it.”
Boyd pursed his lips. “You’re careful, like your dad, and I respect that. He never would jump into anything on faith, either. Okay, I can wait.” He tucked his pen away, pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “If you change your mind, give me a call. My deal will pave your way back to Seattle, maybe not with gold, but with a hefty chunk of silver.”
He was right about that.
*
“SO, WHAT’S THIS emergency meeting about?” Bernie asked, settling into a chair in the staff room.
“You’ll find out when everybody gets here.” Mark paced from the table to the window. On the counter, the coffee urn burbled. Next to it, a couple of tired-looking leftover doughnuts huddled in a Bon Ton box.
Dora entered the room, carrying her yellow knitting tote. “Mark, why are you pacing? Has something bad happened? I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“Have a seat, Dora.” Mark stopped long enough to motion to the empty spot next to Bernie and then took up his pacing again.
April came in, wrinkled her nose at the doughnuts and slumped into a chair. Cody followed, scratching his chin and looking puzzled. He sat next to April, stretching his long legs under the table.
“What’s going on?” Cody asked. “This isn’t our usual time for a staff meeting.”
“I bet it’s about Eva,” April said in a grumpy tone. “Everything’s about her these days.”
Cody elbowed her arm. “What’s the matter? You jealous?”
“No!”
April glared at him, then slid a covert glance at Mark. He ignored them, pulling out a chair and propping one foot on a rung. “Okay, here’s what’s going on—”
“Aren’t we waiting for Eva?” Bernie asked.
“No,” Mark said. “This is about her.”
“Told ya.” April shot Cody a triumphant look.
“Where is Eva?” Dora asked.
Mark waved a hand. “Probably out buying a new wardrobe.”
“Huh!” April said. “Not in this town, she isn’t.”
“Okay, I don’t know where she is. She could come back anytime, so listen up, please.” All eyes focused on him as he cleared his throat. “Boyd Carlstrom is nosing around. Margaret told Guy that he an
d Eva had lunch yesterday at the Beach Café. He was showing her his newspapers. I’m guessing he wants to buy her half when her time is up.”
Dora shook her head. “Seb wouldn’t like that.”
“I know.” Mark propped an elbow on his knee and leaned forward. “But I’m not sure why. I want to talk to Eva about it, warn her, but I need more information. That’s why I called this meeting—to see if any of you can help. Dora, you’re the best one, but I thought the rest of you might have heard something. You know how closemouthed Seb was about personal stuff—he never told me what happened between him and Boyd.”
Dora’s needles clicked off another row. “I think their relationship was touchy from the start. They appeared to be friends, but underneath there was a rivalry. First over Janice. Seb took her away from Boyd, back in their college days. They were Phi Mu fraternity brothers at the U. My niece’s husband was a Phi Mu, the one who came to the picnic? One of the best houses…”
Mark cleared his throat. “Please go on, Dora.”
“Anyway, they got together and bought the newspaper when the Drakes retired. I think Boyd had most of the money. I figured he came because he wanted to be near Janice, never got over her. None of his marriages lasted very long. For a while, he and Seb got along fine, but then trouble started.”
“Didn’t their falling-out have something to do with Brett?” Bernie said.
Dora nodded. “Seb wanted Brett to work for the Herald after he graduated college and to eventually take over leadership. Boyd wanted his son—Arthur, I think his name was—to be top dog. They fought over whose son was going to be boss.”
“What did their sons think?” Mark asked.
Dora shrugged. “I don’t know. But when Brett drowned, Seb was devastated. When he recovered enough to put his mind to work again, Boyd and Arthur were running the show. Seb and Boyd’s relationship got worse and worse. Seb wanted to buy out Boyd, and finally, he could.”
“How could he do that?” Cody asked.
“Boyd had financial problems. I think he made some bad investments. He’s an impulsive guy, likes to throw money around. Seb managed to borrow enough to buy him out. Of course, Boyd didn’t want to go and vowed that someday he’d end up owning the Herald again.”
Eva's Deadline Page 8