“Wow. What was that for?” he asked as we drew apart.
“For being the world’s best boyfriend. For knowing that reference to the original king of yellow journalism and news fabrication. Also, for understanding my deep and abiding loathing of Spencer Karr. And last but not least for looking very handsome tonight.”
“Thank you. I’m trying to impress you.”
“Well done, you.”
Gabe has dark brown hair, a little long, and eyes such a deep brown they’re almost black. He also has great eyebrows, an underrated feature in my opinion. His are straight and expressive. In a shawl-collared red sweater over gray chinos, he was way more than presentable.
“Maybe I should go away more often.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Barnacle doesn’t like it.”
“Oh. Barnacle doesn’t?”
“Well, I might enjoy having you around a little myself.”
“Stop, please. I can’t take this over-the-top emotion,” he said.
“Shut up. Come on, let’s enjoy what little time we have before Spencer gets here.”
As seven o’clock arrived and Spencer Karr hadn’t, I began to relax and feel a little happier. Maybe he wouldn’t show. But then I felt guilty as I saw Paul sneaking glances at his watch, no doubt feeling rising disappointment that corresponded to my rising hope. I forced myself to stop sending stay-away vibes to Spencer. I tried instead to think happy thoughts about Mom’s pot roast and Paul’s heavily frosted birthday cake.
When the doorbell finally rang at seven-fifteen, I was feeling Zen enough to go to the door myself, mouthing I’ve got this in response to the warning look my mother gave me as I passed her.
“Spencer! Hi, come in,” I said, putting all the Mr. Rogers’ good neighbor feeling I could into my voice. I found several true, nice sounding, but non-hypocritical things to say.
“I like your new glasses.” Spencer had switched from blue plastic frames to Harry Potter-style round wire rims, which I did in fact like—on Harry Potter. On Spencer they looked like what they were, a pretentious attempt to be noticed.
“Thanks. Sorry I’m late. Had something interesting come up at the office I had to look into.” His light brown eyes fairly glittered with anticipatory joy at forcing me to ask what. He would then be able to rub my nose in another GO News scoop. I affected disinterest.
“Oh? Well, a publisher’s work is never done, right? Go right on in,” I said, waving him ahead of me. I took a small amount of comfort in his disappointed expression. As everyone greeted him, I veered off down the hall to do a quick check of the GO News site on my phone. I scanned the headlines but didn’t see anything to worry about. Which of course made me worry. I texted Troy, who was on for the weekend.
Anything come over on the scanner? I heard something might be breaking.
Weekend breaking news is typically a big fire, a major accident, or some other catastrophe. We’d begun to emphasize more county-wide coverage at the paper. That helped draw more readers in, but with our small staff we sometimes got overwhelmed trying to keep up with several different cities and a number of smaller villages and towns. Developing sources who would give him a heads-up was something Troy hadn’t done much of yet. I considered my text to him mentoring, not micromanaging. The fact that Troy didn’t text me right back was a bit unsettling.
“Leah? We’re about ready to sit down to dinner,” my mother called from the living room. I put my phone away and rejoined the group.
Dinner chatter centered mostly on how beautiful the fall weather had been the past week, the success of the St. Stephen’s Fall Carnival, the new dentist who had joined Paul’s practice, and my mother’s failed attempt to get Father Lindstrom to try out for a part in the play she was producing for the Himmel Community Players. I was mostly quiet wondering what fresh triumph Spencer was going to taunt me with.
When it was time for the cake, I felt my phone vibrate. Under cover of everyone’s hearty singing of the birthday song, I surreptitiously pulled it out. I looked at the breaking news alert from the GO News site. Amid the laughter and congratulations as Paul successfully blew out all his candles, I stole a glance at Spencer. He was looking at me with a self-satisfied smirk. GO News had beaten us to a story once again.
I excused myself, ostensibly to get the ice cream out of the freezer in the garage. As soon as I closed the door I called Troy.
“What’s going on? Why does GO News have a story about a dead body found outside of Hailwell, and all we have for weekend news is Miguel’s photo spread on the biggest pumpkin in the county?”
5
“I don’t know. I’ve got the scanner right here. I’m sorry. Nothing major came across all day,” he said, misery evident in his voice. I remembered what Miguel had said about me scaring Troy. I paused a second before I spoke.
“Okay, well, the thing is, you weren’t by the scanner all day, were you? With Miguel at his cousin’s Quinceañera, you had to take photos at the girls swim meet in Omico. Plus, you covered the guest speaker at the library in Himmel in the afternoon.”
“But I checked with all the departments when I got back to the office a little while ago. The sheriff’s office didn’t say anything about a dead body! And it’s not really a story, just a paragraph,” he said, belatedly trying to make a case for himself.
In answer I read the brief item aloud.
The body of a young woman was discovered late this afternoon in a wooded area in the southwest corner of Grantland County off Holmby Road, near the Rogers Road intersection. According to the Grantland County Sheriff’s Office, two bow hunters tracking a wounded deer found the body. The death is under investigation, and no further details will be released at this time, pending notification of next of kin.
“It’s short, but it’s definitely a story, Troy. For the time being, you need to think of the sheriff’s office as a hostile source. Lamey is royally pissed that we’ve endorsed Coop in the election. I’m sure he’s issued orders not to give us anything they don’t have to, and definitely nothing we don’t specifically ask for. You can’t just check in with them and ask, ‘Anything going on today?’ You have to be specific. ‘Any motor vehicle accidents, burglaries, fires, DUIs?’ Otherwise, they won’t tell you. Though I can see why you wouldn’t routinely ask if any dead bodies had turned up. But I guess you’d better add that to the list for now.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“Don’t be sorry. Just follow up, get the info online, and keep on top of it, all right?”
“Well, Paul’s birthday had sort of an awkward finish,” Gabe said. We were sitting on the couch at his house, me leaning against him on one side, Barnacle on the other.
“That wasn’t on me. I didn’t say anything to Spencer. He’s the one who needled me so much about the Times missing a story that his dad asked him to leave.”
“Yeah, he’s a piece of work all right. Why does he have it in for you so bad? Are you sure he’s not nursing a grudge because you spurned him? Did you crush the candy valentine he gave you in third grade under your heel? Stab him with your sharp tongue when he carved SK loves LN on the oak tree at recess?”