laugh a little. “Yeah, was that what that goose noise was?” I opened the door and swung my legs out into the sun. The heat radiating against my khakis felt really good for some reason, warming me all the way through.
“Jackass makes everyone have these weird personalized email tones for... uh, let’s see, what did he call it? Oh right I’ve got it posted above my door on an inspirational placard with a picture of two kids riding one horse. Superior synergy it says. Jesus Christ.”
“Uh-huh,” I said with a little laugh. “That’d just about drive me nuts. Do you need to call me back?” I asked, trying to give her an out if she needed one. “I was just about to go into this courthouse and do some poking around in old newspapers. I might have a new story for you?”
“Really?” she had a half-elated, half-relieved tone in her voice. “I was just about to ask you if there was any spooky stuff you could write about for an issue a couple of weeks from now. What do you have for me?”
“I’m not really sure,” I said.
Jolie let a huff of air out.
“I mean, I know I have something, but I don’t know what the angle is yet. But there’s definitely a story.”
“Oh, okay. That’s better than nothing. It is more spooky stuff right? That werewolf business was a huge hit. Please tell me it’s more spooky stuff.”
“For sure,” I said. “Damon and I,” I chewed my lip for a second, not really sure how to explain this without sounding like the world’s most prizewinning crazy-person. “He got called away on some business to a little town called Scagg’s Valley in So-Cal. Anyway, yeah, definitely some weird stories coming your way.”
It was like she barely even heard me. Which... was a very good thing.
“Yeah, that sounds great. As long as it’s witchy or whatever, you’ll be golden. And on top of that you’ll really be saving my ass. Oh, and just so you know it won’t be running in the Saturday magazine insert again.”
“It won’t? But then...”
“Sunday paper, three weeks from now. It’ll run probably at the front of the human interest section. Even if it’s about things that don’t exist. Or, you know, whatever. You’re hot shit in New York, Lily. I’m still getting emails and even a couple of letters from people too old to email about that story. Please, please, please tell me you can do it.”
I had to close my mouth before I could use it to talk. “I, uh, yeah,” I stammered. “Of course I can. Three weeks... need it in two?”
“You can write. I’m sure whatever you give me won’t need much re-working. Tell you what. It’s due to press three Saturdays from now, so get it to me by the Thursday before. Say... a thousand words?”
“A thousand ? That’s—”
“Damn near a full page. You’re my new nuke, Lily, you know that. Feel free to say no. Please say no if you don’t want to or can’t or if this is going to stress you out.”
“No!” I screamed inside my head. A thousand words? The lead-off story in the Sunday Times ? That was... I mean, there’s crazy and then there’s that kind of crazy. A year ago I figured I might be able to sell an article here and there and now I’m sitting out front of a city courthouse about to go root through old newspapers to try and solve a murder. And then I’m going to write about it?
“Yeah,” I felt myself say. “Yeah, of course. Three...” I checked my watch because I’m the kind of girl who still wears one. “Three weeks from tomorrow. I can definitely do that. Oh! Before you go!”
“Anything for my nuke,” Jolie said. “Anything at all. You’re my hit maker. Tell me what you need.”
“Well,” I said slowly, considering my words. “It may be nothing, but I’m going into this small town courthouse to poke around in their records, their back issued newspapers and things, and—”
“Ugh, how small are we talking?”
“About five thousand people? Somewhere around there.” I answered. Really, I
“Jackass makes everyone have these weird personalized email tones for... uh, let’s see, what did he call it? Oh right I’ve got it posted above my door on an inspirational placard with a picture of two kids riding one horse. Superior synergy it says. Jesus Christ.”
“Uh-huh,” I said with a little laugh. “That’d just about drive me nuts. Do you need to call me back?” I asked, trying to give her an out if she needed one. “I was just about to go into this courthouse and do some poking around in old newspapers. I might have a new story for you?”
“Really?” she had a half-elated, half-relieved tone in her voice. “I was just about to ask you if there was any spooky stuff you could write about for an issue a couple of weeks from now. What do you have for me?”
“I’m not really sure,” I said.
Jolie let a huff of air out.
“I mean, I know I have something, but I don’t know what the angle is yet. But there’s definitely a story.”
“Oh, okay. That’s better than nothing. It is more spooky stuff right? That werewolf business was a huge hit. Please tell me it’s more spooky stuff.”
“For sure,” I said. “Damon and I,” I chewed my lip for a second, not really sure how to explain this without sounding like the world’s most prizewinning crazy-person. “He got called away on some business to a little town called Scagg’s Valley in So-Cal. Anyway, yeah, definitely some weird stories coming your way.”
It was like she barely even heard me. Which... was a very good thing.
“Yeah, that sounds great. As long as it’s witchy or whatever, you’ll be golden. And on top of that you’ll really be saving my ass. Oh, and just so you know it won’t be running in the Saturday magazine insert again.”
“It won’t? But then...”
“Sunday paper, three weeks from now. It’ll run probably at the front of the human interest section. Even if it’s about things that don’t exist. Or, you know, whatever. You’re hot shit in New York, Lily. I’m still getting emails and even a couple of letters from people too old to email about that story. Please, please, please tell me you can do it.”
I had to close my mouth before I could use it to talk. “I, uh, yeah,” I stammered. “Of course I can. Three weeks... need it in two?”
“You can write. I’m sure whatever you give me won’t need much re-working. Tell you what. It’s due to press three Saturdays from now, so get it to me by the Thursday before. Say... a thousand words?”
“A thousand ? That’s—”
“Damn near a full page. You’re my new nuke, Lily, you know that. Feel free to say no. Please say no if you don’t want to or can’t or if this is going to stress you out.”
“No!” I screamed inside my head. A thousand words? The lead-off story in the Sunday Times ? That was... I mean, there’s crazy and then there’s that kind of crazy. A year ago I figured I might be able to sell an article here and there and now I’m sitting out front of a city courthouse about to go root through old newspapers to try and solve a murder. And then I’m going to write about it?
“Yeah,” I felt myself say. “Yeah, of course. Three...” I checked my watch because I’m the kind of girl who still wears one. “Three weeks from tomorrow. I can definitely do that. Oh! Before you go!”
“Anything for my nuke,” Jolie said. “Anything at all. You’re my hit maker. Tell me what you need.”
“Well,” I said slowly, considering my words. “It may be nothing, but I’m going into this small town courthouse to poke around in their records, their back issued newspapers and things, and—”
“Ugh, how small are we talking?”
“About five thousand people? Somewhere around there.” I answered. Really, I
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