“Very funny.”
“I’m serious. Those…those can get messy! Carla, come here.”
“Don’t bring Carla in on this.”
He heard Thompson laughing and talking to Carla. He was almost at Sunset Cove, but he was stuck wasting his time on this.
“OK,” Thompson said. “I’m back. Now, you say you were attacked?”
“Yes.” Firmer now. Aggressive. “And I’m going to follow this story through.”
“What is it?”
“A woman was murdered here. And I’ve been trying to find out why.”
“Murder? Our readers don’t want to hear about that!”
“They have to.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? Palm trees, Russo. Palm trees! And now we have a beautiful woman, Melinda Ginelli, waiting for her reporter!”
“I think she was murdered for a reason. There’s a radical environmental group. The one I told you about. I know that they were involved somehow. I just can’t put together all the pieces. But I’m starting to get close.”
“Russo.”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t listen to a word of that. It doesn’t matter. Cover Melinda in Orlando! You should hear some of the news we’re getting.”
“Like what?”
“It’s just a rumor. But…but I heard she died her hair brown. Melinda Ginelli as a brunette! Just imagine! It’s front page stuff.”
He parked the car and took the key out of the ignition. As he sat in the Sunset Cove lot, he wondered how far he could throw the phone. But he let it stay on the seat.
“Listen, I have to write this story. A woman was killed. Possibly by environmentalists gone wild. That doesn’t interest you at all?”
“Do you even know who Melinda is dating? Or the name of her newest movie?”
“A woman is dead. Nothing?”
“You need to get used to it. People die. They’re old. Our readers don’t want to be reminded of that sort of stuff. They want good news.”
“Like some celebrity?”
“Exactly! I didn’t think you understood. You know, she might even have a drug problem! Isn’t that wonderful?”
“I don’t get it.”
“Well start getting it. It’s not negotiable. I want you to start commuting there. Find out what Orlandonians think about her.”
“I don’t think they’re called Orlandonians.”
“Russo. Find out what they’re called then. Orlandonians, Orlanders, Orlandish. Just go there.”
“Fine. I’ll get you an article.”
“Not just an article. Be there. Nobody wants to read about murder in Sarasota. It’s…it’s depressing.”
“Sometimes the news is depressing.”
“Like when the cafeteria runs out of tater tots?”
Thompson started laughing. Jake heard him calling people over and repeating his joke. He squeezed the rubber of the steering wheel hard and felt it chafe against his palms. Just ignore it. It wasn’t worth getting into a fight. Thompson got back on the phone, wheezing.
“By the way, Mr. Newsman, you did a good job asking that developer the ‘Handling Handle’ questions. Let’s get more of that. And more pictures with the palm trees.”
“I didn’t want to ask those questions.”
“But you did.” Gruffer now. Not laughing any more. “Do you understand?”
“I understand.” He did understand. That didn’t mean he’d like it. And it didn’t mean that he’d do it.
“Good,” Thompson barked.
“Good.”
“Now go ahead and take lunch.”
“It’s 10AM.”
“That’s right. You’ve…you’ve probably already had lunch!”
Thompson kept laughing. Jake took the phone from the passenger seat and flipped it shut. The conversation was over. He wasn’t going to keep on debating. It vibrated in his hand a second later, but he didn’t answer. He just put it in his pocket and got out of the car. The path in front of him was blocked.
A line of people progressed along the path, led by someone who looked like a nurse. A morning walk. They were moving slowly as they looked attentively at the trees and grass. They looked happy. Some were in wheelchairs and some had canes. One man was leaning into a walker, light blue pants pulled up high on his waist, his socks taut around his ankles. They stopped and the nurse said something Jake couldn’t hear. He saw them nod their heads.
Another sunny day in Sarasota. He was used to it by now. Orlando was two and a half hours away. Who knew where this celebrity lived, or what he’d even find? Was he supposed to dig through Melinda Ginelli’s trash? If he saw her, was he supposed to ask her “Handling Handle” questions? Or maybe they’d talk about her latest movie-the one he hadn’t seen. If he was going to Orlando, he’d have to start driving now.
The last person in the line walked past. She smiled as she walked by. He took out his notebook and opened it to a fresh page. He had a story to write. He wasn’t going to Orlando. For once, the story was in Sarasota.
CHAPTER 34
Sheryl Goldfein wasn’t happy when she opened the door.
“Where’s Gary? What did you do with Gary?”
She scowled. She was wearing a pink nightgown, and Jake smelled spices. It was either potpourri or her skin. Her hair looked silver again, and he could see where the hairspray had been sprayed, still wet. She had dark red lipstick on, meticulously and thickly applied. Jake sighed.
“I know Gary told you he would be here.”
“Of course he did. Do you think I would have done this for you?”
“I hope not.”
“Ech. You’re right.”
She dropped her hand from the doorframe and motioned for him to come in. He walked in carefully and looked to the right. About thirty rose petals were piled in front of a door.
“That’s your bedroom, isn’t it?”
“None of your business.”
“You and Gary haven’t…done anything, have you?”
“Today was going to be the day I convinced him.”
“Oh. I see.”
“A poet,” she said and sighed. Jake looked around the room. No potpourri. The spices were some type of overpowering perfume. Gary Novak was a powerful man.
“So when is Gary coming?”
Better to let her know now.
“It’s just me today.”
“Ech.” She threw her arms down to her side. “I spent so much money. What am I supposed to do with these flowers?”
“I don’t know.”
“It took me forever to cut through them.”
Jake picked up a petal off the floor. It felt wrong.
“Did you use plastic roses?”
“Of course I did.” She held up a pair of scissors. “They’re reusable. I’m not going to waste perfectly good flowers.” She started collecting the petals and putting them into a metal tin. He didn’t want to know how many times they’d been reused. She didn’t open the bedroom door. Fortunately. She came back and sat down in front of him.
“So why isn’t Gary coming?”
“Well.” He wouldn’t tell her about Gary’s wife. Yet. “Gary was busy. And I have some important questions to ask you.”
“Ech. I’m sure.”
“Do you remember when we talked about Charlotte?”
“I remember.”
“Well, I’m still looking into it. I’m going to try one more time. I need to know what happened.”
“I told you. She was old. That’s it.”
She started to pick at the lipstick on the corners of her lips. Jake drew closer.
“I don’t think you did it.” It was true. “But I do think that you can help me.”
“How am I supposed to help you?”
He sighed and drew a line in the notebook. It started now.
“I need to know about the Saving Tomorrow Initiative.”
“What?”
She clamped the lid on the tin. One plastic rose petal was trapped between the edges.
“The Saving Tomorrow Initiative. I think they’re the ones who attacked me.”
He pointed to his bruises and she stepped back.
“I thought you said you fell.”
“You believed that?”