Sam raised a hand, silencing her. "No explanation needed," he said. "I know. Sometimes you've just got to do these things. I've been a journalist for years, and you don't want to know about some of the things I've done. What's your name? Whom do you write for?"
With a small sigh of relief, she took a sip of the whisky. "It's Julia Rose. Julia Rose Gaultier," she said, then hesitated for a moment before adding, "and I don't really write for anyone just now. I have a blog — yeah, I know — but I'm trying to use it to catch a break. Something like this could really help me. How about you?"
"Sam Cleave." He stuck out a hand for her to shake. "I used to write for the—"
"Sam Cleave?" Briefly forgetting to keep her voice down, Julia Rose uttered Sam's name with a cry of excitement. "From the Clarion? You're the guy who broke the story about the arms ring?"
The delighted expression on her face made Sam feel bad that he could not muster more excitement. He wondered if he had ever been so young and enthusiastic. If he had, that version of him was impossible to call to mind now. "Yeah, that's me."
"Oh, my god!" Julia Rose stared at Sam as if she was carefully memorizing every detail of this meeting for posterity. "Oh, listen to me — you must think I'm just some stupid blogger fan girl. I'm not really. But I've read so much of your work, and it's been a big influence on me. I never thought I'd actually meet you!" In an instant her elation gave way to anxiousness and she crumpled. "Oh, god. And you just caught me trespassing. Are you friends with Mr. Daniels? Because I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell him I was here. I'll go right now, I won't come back. And I won't come here again."
"Don't be daft," said Sam. "I'm not going to tell on you. Yes, I know Jefferson. He hired me to help him write a book. If you like, I can introduce you some time — not just now, obviously, but while I'm here. He likes to talk about all this FireStorm stuff to anyone who'll listen, so you'll definitely get something out of him. In the meantime, we'd probably best get you home. Are you from around here?"
Julia Rose shook her head, "from Minneapolis."
Sam racked his brain, trying to remember where Minneapolis was in relation to Montana. Quite far east, he seemed to recall. "Not going home tonight then, I take it? Where are you staying?"
"Well, I… " Julia Rose would not meet his eyes. Her voice dropped to a mumble. "In my car. Oh, don't look at me like that, it's not so bad. I couldn't afford to do this any other way. There are plenty of places to wash around here, if you don't mind cold river water. And I don't. It's the heat in Arizona that I'm worried about."
"You're planning to follow her down there?"
"I have to. I don't know how much you've heard about this Mind Meld thing, but it's going to be huge. Word is that most of Silicon Valley's going, and there are plans to unveil some new tech gear that will… actually, I don't fully understand what it's meant to do. People have been saying that it's going to bring together spirituality and social media, but I don't get how that's supposed to work. But I guess I'll find out. I hope I will. Although I'm probably just going to wind up getting myself arrested, if I can't even sneak around here without getting caught."
Sam could not deny that this was true, or that being caught trespassing in the FireStorm compound was unlikely to end well for a young African-American woman. Still, that was a less-pressing problem than the issue of what to do with her tonight. "Look, do you want to stay here tonight?" he asked. The look of apprehension crossed her face again. "Don't worry, there's a spare room. It's got a lock on the door and a separate bathroom. You might as well. But you'll need to leave before anyone gets up and sees your car."
She glanced toward the open door and spacious hallway beyond, leading toward the expensively refurbished, lavishly decorated bedrooms. Her hand went unconsciously to the nape of her neck, her fingers testing the cleanliness of her hair. She was evidently tempted.
"Come on," Sam said. "Stay here. There's a little kitchenette through the back — there's not an awful lot in it, but you're welcome to whatever's there."
At the mention of food, she visibly relaxed. Sam wondered how much she was eating, while living in her car. He knew he had almost won her over and that he would sleep much more easily knowing that he hadn't kicked her out into the night to take her chances by the roadside.
But there was something that she seemed to be uncertain about. She kept glancing toward her backpack, slouched on the floor at her feet. "I hate to ask you for anything else when you're already being so generous," she said. "But… may I charge my laptop?"
Chapter Five
"Mom! Mom, I can't find my iPod!" Henley yelled from the top of the stairs. Paige, who was busy checking the labels on the family's luggage, did not even look up before yelling back that she had no idea where it was and perhaps Henley should take better care of her belongings. As mother and daughter launched into the beginning of a full-blown argument, Sam tried to make himself inconspicuous. The past few days had been somewhat tense in the Daniels household.
The peace and quiet of Jefferson's study, where Sam had been conducting the interviews for the book, had frequently been shattered by the sound of Henley's protestations. It was her opinion, frequently and vehemently stated, that FireStorm was a cult, spirituality was nonsense, and she had no interest in being torn away from all her friends and her snowboard training to spend two weeks suffering in the Arizona heat. Julia Rose could not arrive to collect Sam soon enough.
Jefferson appeared from the driveway, his chiseled features twisted in suppressed frustration. Catching sight of Sam, he plastered a smile on his face. "Hey, buddy," he said, grabbing the first of the bags. "Both our rides are here. I really wish you'd let me buy you a plane ticket, though. Your intern's car is, well… it's kind of old. Have you seen it?"
Grabbing his bag, Sam strolled out to meet Julia Rose. It was true, he had never actually seen the car in daylight. It was a 1999 Toyota Camry that had clearly seen better days. Much better days. The red paint was shot thought with little sections of rust and discolored patches where old scratches had been touched up with spray paint that did not quite match. Julia Rose had clearly tried hard to make the car look less lived in, but Sam suspected that even if it had been freshly detailed it would have given that impression. There was little she could have done to reverse the damage done by several not-so-careful owners who had the car before her.
"That's your ride?" Henley appeared behind Sam, a tiny designer backpack slung over one shoulder. She peered over the top of her sunglasses at the car. "Cool. Can I come along with you? If I have to spend five hours on a plane next to my mom, someone's going to die." She stooped down to give Julia Rose her most winning smile through the driver's side window. "Hey. I'm Henley Daniels. You must be Sam's intern. You seem cool, may I get a ride?"
"Sorry, Henley," Sam said, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently steering her back toward the cab that was waiting for the Daniels family, "nothing doing. I don't think your mom and dad would be happy with us kidnapping you. First class awaits. Off you go."
As Henley slouched toward the cab, Sam threw his bag in the back of the Camry. "Sorry about that," he said, pulling a large bag of Jolly Rancher candies from his jacket pocket as they pulled out of the driveway. "Were these the ones you said you liked? They'd better be good — I've got three more bags after this one."
"I still can't believe you managed to get me into this thing," Julia Rose said, as the car clanked and groaned its way past signs for Wolf Creek and onto the Interstate. "How the hell did you do it?"