by Sylvia Nobel
“Yeah. I guess.”
My half-hearted response snuffed out the fiery glow in his eyes. He dropped his arms to his side. “So, what are you saying? That nothing is going to make you happy unless you and only you get to follow up on this story?”
He was right. Perhaps I was overreacting, but the yearning inside me was so strong, it was almost a physical pain. I looked away. “There’s no point in discussing it further. We don’t have enough support staff, so there’s not a chance in hell I could do it anyway. And that’s that.” I knew I sounded like a petulant child, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
He grasped my shoulders hard. “You’re about as subtle as a loaded freight train. Listen, you know I’d help you out if I could, but if you’ll recall, you assigned me to cover the Cardinal’s training camp in Flagstaff next week. And after that, you know I was planning to go down to San Pedro and buy that stallion I told you about.”
“Thanks for depressing me further.” At the look of displeasure clouding his face, I regretted my words instantly. When? When would I ever learn to keep my big mouth shut?
He gave me a long, level stare. Unlike me, he seemed to be mentally counting to ten before speaking. “What’s wrong with giving Morton Tuggs a call? He and Mary got home from their cruise last week.”
I shot him a look of disbelief, remembering Tugg’s final words before he’d left. ‘Can’t do it anymore, Kendall,’ he’d said to me. ‘The damn job’s too short on fun and too long on stress.’ “Tugg? What makes you think he’d be willing to sub for me?”
“How long will it take you to get the story?”
“I’m not sure. A week, maybe. And who knows, this girl may not want a nosy reporter delving into her private family history.”
“Call him.”
“Even if he did agree, I’d never get past Mary,” I reminded him ungraciously.
Tally tossed me one of his inscrutable looks and strode towards the door, calling back over his shoulder “Your mulishness will always be one of your most endearing qualities.”
I watched him walk away feeling more than a little remorse. Well, that was priceless. Not only had I ruined the romantic moment, I’d solved nothing. If we were still on for this evening, I’d make it a point to make my apology memorable for him.
My despondent mood worsened when Harry announced that the old press we’d been nursing along until the new one arrived had stopped dead in the middle of the print run. Then, Jim called in to say his car had broken down so he couldn’t get to the council meeting and Lupe went home sick.
Sure, I thought glumly, Tugg would be champing at the bit to come back to all these problems. The dream of getting the story wilted and died.
It was closing in on seven o’clock before I wearily shouldered my purse and headed for the front door. I had my hand on the knob when an unseen force seemed to grab hold of me. I stood perfectly still for a minute and then as if in a trance, I retraced my steps to the reception desk and picked up the phone. My mouth was powder dry when the female voice answered. “Mary?” I managed to croak. “This is Kendall O’Dell. Would Tugg happen to be around?”
Chapter 2
People never ceased to amaze me, I decided as I sat sipping a glass of fragrant sun tea in Mary’s tidy kitchen the following afternoon while waiting for Tugg. Having come there fully cognizant of the woman’s propensity for zealously safeguarding her husband’s health and welfare, combined with her notorious reputation for pretty much directing every aspect of the man’s life, I expected her to take after me with a broom when I tentatively floated the idea of Tugg temporarily re-assuming his duties as editor. Instead, she dropped her dishcloth and rushed at me, mouth agape, eyes bulging, and crushed me to her generous bosom in a breath-robbing embrace.
“You’re an absolute lifesaver,” she squealed before abruptly lowering her voice to a fierce whisper. “He’s driving me crazy. Stomach ulcers or no, if he doesn’t get busy on something soon and get out of this house for a while...” she paused before concluding ominously, “there may be bloodshed.”
Underneath her bravado, I knew what she meant. Tugg, a big bear of a man, crusty and likable, fit perfectly into the category of workaholic. Life as an invalid would never suit him and I had the feeling he’d rather die with his boots on.
Appearing tanned and rested, Tugg greeted me with enthusiasm and then, with a flushed and anxious Mary urging him on, he readily agreed to my request. Would he be able to fill in for a minimum of one week, possibly two? Absolutely, they both chimed in at once and as I drove away their beaming faces mirrored relief and gratitude.
Elated, I finished out the rest of the week, packed my bags and headed for Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix by seven o’clock Monday morning. As Castle Valley receded behind me, I had to admit to myself that as much as I’d grown to love this dusty little town, it had become my prison. One I’d created for myself albeit, but a prison nonetheless.
My only regret was leaving Tally. Last night, he’d been particularly attentive and again this morning, after likening me to a falcon being freed, he had reluctantly sent me on my way. I could still taste the remains of his urgent, deliciously prolonged kiss that had left my ears ringing and a heat rushing through my veins that rivaled the air temperature.
A master at hiding his true emotions, Tally had worn an expression of tolerant benevolence as he settled me behind the wheel of my car. But when I looked up at him after starting the engine, a wary glint had entered his eyes.
“Think you can stay out of trouble this time?”
I flashed him an impish grin. “Now what fun would that be?”
“I mean it, Kendall.”
Hoping to allay his fears, I’d reminded him again that this assignment bore no resemblance to my previous one. This one was safe. Purely a human interest story. What possible danger could there be?
Content with my decision, I watched the cactus and rock-strewn landscape gradually give way to the vast expanse of asphalt and concrete that transformed Phoenix into a sizzling griddle each summer. I joined the mass of humanity choking the freeway system and crawled my way to the airport.
It was much later than I’d planned by the time I reached the garage and began the quest for an empty space. After circling endlessly, I was fuming aloud as I sped toward the outdoor parking on the roof.
As I searched anew, my mind replayed yesterday’s phone call from Patrick. After giving me the flight number and a brief description of the girl, my sister-in-law, Margie, picked up the extension and filled in some more blanks.
According to her, Angela was still in a complete state of shock over the strange turn of events and even more mystified following Dr. Orcutt’s telephone call on Friday informing her that the attorney in Tucson was holding a confidential letter from her mother. He’d told her it was vitally important that she read it before coming to Morgan’s Folly.
“Angela had other questions but he refused to answer them on the phone,” Margie continued in a gossipy tone. “Don’t you think that’s odd? None of us can figure out why the man is being so secretive about everything. I’m wondering now if we advised her correctly. We might be sending her out there on some wild goose chase.”
My anxious heart thumped harder. “You’re sure she’s really going through with this?”
“Unless she changes her mind at the last minute, that’s the plan,” Patrick broke in. “The poor kid’s never flown before and she’s scared half to death about that, too.” That floored me. I didn’t know anyone who hadn’t been on a plane at least once and decided that this young woman must lead a very sheltered life.
I told them that I’d decided to handle the story personally and to tell Angela or whatever her name was, I’d be available to drive her to Tucson, Morgan’s Folly, or anywhere else she needed to go.
“Do me a favor, would you?” Margie added. “Go easy on her, Kendall. Emotionally, she’s pretty fragile.”
“Well, I was planning to shut her in a small room with a r
eally bright light and grill her with questions.” When I was met with complete silence, I added hastily, “Just kidding, Margie.”
“Oh, good,” continued my humorless sister-in-law. “She’s a darling girl, but kind of...different.”
“Don’t worry,” I’d replied before hanging up, “I’ll be gentle.”
So now, as I parked the car and hurried across the scalding pavement to the elevator, I hoped I’d be able to put this girl at ease enough to confide in me. Uptight people were generally pretty close-mouthed.
Inside the terminal, I checked flight information on the monitors. Crap. Angela’s plane had landed fifteen minutes earlier. It seemed to take hours to get through the congested security area and I was glad that I’d opted for sneakers as I broke into a lope. Dodging the ebb and flow of two-way foot traffic, I finally decided that my attempt to hurry was as useless as trying to swim in a riptide. And, as fate would have it, her flight was at the very furthest gate. The crowd thinned as I reached the far end of the terminal and I picked up my pace again, thinking that perhaps Margie was right. Anxious as I was to learn Angela’s story, I’d best not come on like gangbusters if this girl proved to be as shy and withdrawn as she’d been described.
Short of breath, I pounded down the carpeted hallway, which had suddenly become as noiseless as a hotel corridor on a Christmas morning. I rounded the corner to the waiting area only to feel my heart sink into my shoes. Rows of empty plastic chairs gaped back at me.
I turned in a slow circle, peering in all directions, examining each person who happened by. No one matched the picture I’d formed in my mind of a frail, young woman with dark hair. Where could she have gone so quickly? I wasn’t that late.
Shading my eyes, I squinted through the massive panes of glass out onto the shimmering tarmac where a giant blue and gold jet sat parked. People on carts scurried back and forth while maintenance crews swarmed around the aircraft, prepping for the next flight.
I cursed my fate. This was hardly the best way to begin what might prove to be a tenuous relationship at best with the young stranger. And since I’d already failed the simple test of showing up on time to meet her flight, she just might tell me to take a flying leap and give the story to someone else. And who could blame her?
Mentally kicking myself, I turned to retrace my steps. She must have gone to baggage claim. Where else could she possibly be?
“Oh, miss? Wait a minute!”
I swiveled around to see a blonde woman clad in a blue and gold flight attendant’s uniform, running towards me. “Are you Kendall O’Dell?” she gasped, closing the gap between us.
“Yes, but...”
She assessed the obvious question in my eyes and waved a small piece of paper in the air. “It says here to look for a tall redhead wearing a green T-shirt, so I guessed that had to be you.”
A small knot of consternation formed in my stomach. “Where did you get that?”
“One of our passengers had some kind of a seizure. We found this note in her hand. Can you come with me?”
“Of course.” I fell into step with her. “Where is she?”
“Still on the plane. Her medic-alert bracelet identifies her as epileptic. Do you have any experience with this sort of thing.”
“I’m afraid not.” I followed her up the jet-way wondering what I was getting into. It was ironic that I’d gone to the trouble of picking up two books before leaving Castle Valley. One detailed the history of mining in southern Arizona, and I’d read most of that. The second was a book on epilepsy and unfortunately, it was now residing unread at the bottom of my suitcase. All I could remember from various magazine articles was that seizures were usually categorized as either grand mal or petit mal. The latter would be preferable, I thought grimly.
A tall gray-haired man who appeared to be the pilot and several other flight attendants looked around expectantly as we approached the rear of the airliner. Their collective expressions conveyed a mixture of concern and relief. I hoped I appeared more confident than I felt as the small crowd parted to reveal a young woman with short-cropped brown hair slumped in the aisle seat.
Recalling Patrick’s description, there was little doubt in my mind that this was Angela Martin. As I knelt next to her, noting her pale, almost translucent complexion, I wished I’d taken the time to read the book.
“We’ve sent for the paramedics,” announced the pilot, “and we’ll be boarding passengers as soon as we refuel.” He sounded impatient.
As if she’d heard him, the girl stirred slightly and I noticed an almost imperceptible flicker of her eyelids. Seconds later I was staring into glassy brown eyes. “Angela?” I began in a gentle tone, “I’m Kendall O’Dell. Are you all right? Is there anything we should do?”
She appeared disoriented and slightly fearful as her gaze roamed over the sea of faces bending towards her. She swallowed hard and self-consciously wiped the thin stream of saliva seeping from one corner of her mouth. “No, no,” she said faintly, sitting up straight and taking a few deep breaths. “I’m...I’m fine now. I’m terribly sorry for inconveniencing...”
“That’s quite all right, dear,” said one of the flight attendants, patting her gently on one shoulder. “We’re just glad you’re...awake.”
“Would you like a drink of water or something?” I asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
I made eye contact with the woman who’d chased me down and she gave me a quick nod before heading to the plane’s galley.
Satisfied that the crisis was over, the pilot hurried to cancel the paramedics and the group began to disperse. At Angela’s direction, I located her carry-on luggage a few rows forward and after she’d drunk the water and thanked the attendants once more, we made our way into the terminal.
Judging by the pinched expression on her face, and sensing it was important that I not dwell on what had happened to her on the plane, I bit back the questions I was dying to ask.
While we threaded our way through the burgeoning crowd, she appeared confused, dazed, spacey even, like a small child lost at an amusement park. Patrick had mentioned that she was eight years my junior, but even at twenty she somehow struck me as much younger.
Even though we’d been delayed at least a half an hour, apparently so had the luggage. People were three rows deep at the baggage claim by the time we arrived and the air rumbled with a vociferous chorus of complaints.
Another ten minutes passed before it was announced that the problem had finally been repaired and a cheer erupted as the first bag tumbled down the metal chute.
“It’s about time,” I sighed, turning to Angela. “You’d think that they’d...” My voice trailed off when I noticed her strange expression. Goggle-eyed, she stared as various pieces of luggage slid down and began their journey around the carousel. When the same bags began to pass for the fourth time, I broke the silence between us.
“What exactly are we looking for?”
She turned puzzled eyes on me. “What?”
“What do your suitcases look like?”
“Oh. They’re light blue with red trim.” Her obvious chagrin triggered the faintest flush to appear on her high cheekbones. The small dots of color made the rest of her skin look ghostly white, bluish almost. Was she going to have another seizure?
I pointed to the benches beneath the windows near the exit. “Why don’t you go sit down over there. I’ll get your things.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, pressing a hand to her forehead. “It’s just that I was so nervous about flying and I’m kind of... fuzzy after I have one of my...spells.”
“No problem.” I wished she’d stop apologizing for something she obviously had no control over. After snagging her two bags from the carousel, I motioned towards the door. Being a relative newcomer myself, I sympathized with her reaction of pure shock when the suffocating wall of heat slammed into us.
She stopped dead in her tracks. “It feels like a thousand degrees out here! How do you stand it?”
>
“With great difficulty. I’ve been burning up since I got here last April but it’s much worse now because of the high humidity. Welcome to Arizona’s rainy season which is called the monsoon.”
“I can hardly breathe.”
I punched the elevator button. “Don’t worry, it’s supposed to be a little cooler where we’re headed.”
“I hope so.”
By the time we reached my car, her steps were faltering and her beet-red face glistened with perspiration. As I loaded the luggage into the trunk, I said with a smile, “People who’ve been here awhile keep assuring me that eventually one does get accustomed to this.”
She cast me a look of sincere doubt when I opened the passenger door and a blast of hot air poured out. “Sorry about that,” I said with an apologetic shrug. “I couldn’t find a space inside the garage.”
Gunning the engine, I dialed the air-conditioner to high and headed for the freeway that would take us south to Tucson. “Do you have the address of the attorney you’re supposed to see?” I asked, glancing in her direction. “What time are you expected?”
She fumbled in her purse. “I told his secretary what time I’d get in and she said anytime after one was okay.”
I glanced at the clock. It was a two hour drive and if we added another hour for lunch that would be just about right. “All right. Just sit back, relax and enjoy the scenery.” She gave me a faint nod, leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
It seemed to take forever to get beyond the sprawling suburbs and strip shopping centers but, as the Phoenix skyline diminished behind us and we cruised into the open desert once more, a heady feeling of freedom gripped me. I was looking forward with great relish to visiting a portion of this fascinating state I’d never seen before, not to mention the anticipation of tackling the new assignment.
We’d passed several towns with interesting names like Sacaton and Casa Grande before I heard her stirring beside me. “Miss O’Dell?”
“Please call me Kendall.”
“Okay. Um...thank you for...everything. I haven’t had an attack like that for a long time. Stress can cause them and with everything that’s happened...”