Sleep Don't Come Easy by Victor McGlothin Page A

as hell had never given Todd the satisfaction of seeing her bawl, but here she was, grabbing a tissue off the box on his desk to wipe her nose.
    â€œIt’s been two weeks and they haven’t arrested any goddamned body.” She blew. “How the hell could they go this long and not arrest anybody, Todd?” she stared pitifully at him.
    He looked absolutely uncomfortable. “C’mon now, Morris,” he tried consoling her. Todd shifted uneasily in his seat. “It’s tough. I know. But you’ve got to give them time. They’ll find the guy.”
    â€œShe was one of my best friends.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œLike my sister and I . . . we hadn’t spoken in months, Todd. I was a horrible, horrible friend, because I should’ve . . . I should’ve . . .”
    â€œWhy don’t you go home, Morris? Take a few more days off.”
    â€œI really need to work,” she said, composing herself. “I need to stay busy.”
    He sighed. “Then stay busy, but stay off my staff’s asses.”
    Fatema seemed to ignore him. “I have some leads I want to follow up on, if that’s ok.”
    â€œWhat leads?”
    â€œI don’t know.” As soon as she said it, she knew she’d lost him. “I went through some of Toni’s things, and came across some interesting stuff.”
    â€œI don’t do stuff, Morris,” he said sarcastically. “And I don’t want you working on your friend’s story. Doesn’t feel right, and I’m sure it’s got to be unethical or something which could get me into trouble. Besides, I need you to finish that series on food poisoning in vegetarian restaurants I assigned to you two weeks ago.”
    She rolled her eyes. “I gave that story to the intern to write. Thanks for reminding me. I’ll get on his ass.”
    â€œI didn’t assign it to the intern,” he said irritably.
    â€œToni was obsessed with that Russian college student who went missing a few months ago. Remember her? Toni had all sorts of clippings from newspapers and articles from the Internet in her personal files on the woman. What do you think that could mean?”
    â€œObviously it means you’ve disobeyed your boss and given my assignment to some idiot who doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, and I should fire you right here on the spot.”
    â€œShe had tons of articles on people gone missing from all over the country, and this fixation with human trafficking. Didn’t Abner write a story on that before he moved to Florida?”
    â€œLet the police do their job. And you do yours, which means you will stay out of their way on this one, Morris, and let them solve your friend’s murder. You are not the person for the job.”
    â€œMaybe it was the reason she was killed,” she said despondently.
    â€œTalk to the police, and tell them your suspicions, then.”
    â€œI did.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd they know what I know.”
    â€œI want you to go home, Fatema,” he said with finality. She started to protest, but he put his hand up to stop her. “That’s not a request. You’re no good to me in your state of mind right now and I need reporters who can work on stories I assign to them.”
    â€œTodd?”
    â€œTodd, my ass. You go home and finish grieving. Let the police do what they do best.”
    The way he looked at her told her more than she needed to know, and Fatema was wounded by his unspoken accusation.
    â€œYou don’t trust me,” she said, defeated. “I thought you said you let it go.”
    Todd sighed, put down his papers and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, well, I thought I had, until now. You got desperate and crossed the line, Morris. Now you’re desperate again. Do you blame me for being worried?”
    â€œYes,” she said, hurriedly, “and no. I loved her, Todd. But I’m not