Meter Maids Eat Their Young (30 page)

“Have you found your answer?”

I started to give her the same old refrain, that I didn't know, but I wasn't so sure now it was true. I turned my head and looked out the window, surprised to see it was raining.

“I got tired of being alone,” I said, my voice cracking more than I felt comfortable with. I could feel tears welling up behind my eyelids, threatening to breach the edge and roll down my cheeks like the rain that rolled down the window.

“And?”

“And tired of chasing ghosts.”

“Robyn's ghost.”

“Chasing hers. Running from others. My parents. My past. And running from the few friends I have. You. Albert. HL. Even Marion, for Christ's sake. All those things. But, yeah, tired of chasing Robyn's ghost. I want it to end. I want to let her go but I don't know how. When HL asked me back that last time, my first reaction was to say thanks, but no thanks. But I found myself saying yes and the more I thought about it, the more the idea … excited me. Woke up something inside. Something I hadn't felt in a long time. As beautiful as Washington is, I never felt like I belonged there.”

“It's been hard on you being back.”

I brushed the tears from my eyes and looked back at her. “Next to losing Robyn and quitting drinking, the hardest thing I've ever experienced in my life.”

“There may be harder things yet to endure.”

I closed my eyes. “HL,” I whispered. “He's not going to make it out of the ICU, is he?”

“No, Teller. I'm afraid he won't. But there is more you need to know.”

I opened my eyes. She leaned forward, a deep sigh escaping her lips. Clasping her hands about her head, she began to massage her forehead with the tips of her fingers, wincing when she came too close to the spot where Keller had struck her.

“Are you okay, Felice?” I realized for the first time how tired she looked, the pain she must be in.

“As well as I can be,” she said. “There are moments when all I long for is silence, but the silence never comes.” She whispered this last and I wasn't sure the words were meant for me.

She looked up. Her eyes were dark ringed, her eyelids moist.

“After Hector died, HL went into a long decline. Of course, I was the only one aware of it. He never let it show outside this office. He was a strong man, then as now, but I knew. Just as I knew that Lawrence was a disappointment to him. They had never been close and despite his efforts to draw Lawrence closer, the gap between them just grew wider. In the end, it was to you he turned.”

“Me?”

“Yes. He admired you, admired your skills as a reporter, your perseverance in uncovering the truth and the faith you had in believing that the truth would, in the end, mean something. His admiration, I believe – I know – turned to love.

“You became, not the son who died or the one who ran from him, but a third son, different from either of them but one he could be equally as proud of. Make no mistake, distance or no, he was proud of Lawrence even as he disagreed with Lawrence's decisions but he didn't feel toward Lawrence what he felt toward you. Did you know he had copies of everything you wrote sent to him?”

“No,” I said, surprised. “I had no idea.”

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly.

“Several years ago, before you agreed to return, HL changed his will. I know because I typed it up and witnessed its signing. Hector was dead. Lawrence had no interest in the paper other than what the sale of it would bring him. The paper was HL's whole life and the idea of it falling into the hands of an uncaring, all-for-profit media conglomerate appalled him. He needed someone with the same feeling for it as his; the same love and respect. You, Teller. He needed you.”

“I'm not sure I understand what you're trying to tell me here, Felice?”

“HL owns the paper outright. The land, the building, the presses. Upon his death, it, and his private fortune, will all belong to you.”

I don't remember leaving Felice's office. One minute I was sitting there, stunned at the news she'd delivered and the next I was standing on the front steps of the newspaper office trying to reconnect with time and space.

As the world began to refocus itself, I saw that the morning mist had become a drizzle. The cracking thunder was closer now, the turbulent clouds rolling in overhead. This drizzle would soon turn into a driving rain.

Chaos continued its reign over the streets. People running to and fro. A pall of dark smoke hung head high, the smell of burnt rubber and plastic thick enough to make my stomach turn. Three burly men were doing their best to yank a parking meter free of the sidewalk. Two cops passed them by without a glance, leading a meter maid in cuffs between them.

I scanned the moving crowd, searching for Jaz, figuring that bright blue hair of hers would stand out despite the limited visibility. Most of the crowd was still on the Admin steps, a good view of which I couldn't get from where I stood. Cutting through the people in the street, I made my way to the weird clock tower and climbed it, nicking my hand twice on its sharp edges.

It took a moment but I spotted her. She was being accosted by a man in a hoody. When she managed to knock back the hood, I nearly impaled myself in an effort to get off the clock and over to her as quickly as I could. The man she was arguing with was Keller.

I struggled through the surging crowd, losing precious minutes. By the time I reached the admin steps, they were gone. I searched the crowd and caught a blur of blue as it disappeared around the corner of the building. Fighting my way back down the stairs, I chased after them.

Compared with the front lawn of the Admin building, the parking lot along the side was an island of gravel-coated calm. I ran along the side of the building, being as quiet as possible. As I turned the corner at the rear of the building, I found myself just in time to see the rear door shut with an ominous
thunk
.

I raced over to it, hoping against hope and having that hope dashed when I found the door locked. Searching my pockets, I retrieved my cell phone and flipped it open. It bleeped once and died. Damn battery. One of these days I really need to crawl into the twenty-first century with all this technological crap and learn to RTFM and plug in my cell phone.

I hurried back around to the front of the building, wended my way through the crowd and up the steps, ducking behind three cops who were trying to subdue an angry civilian.

Inside the Admin building, the lobby was empty, the lights dim. It appeared the riot outside had forced an evacuation. I was crossing the lobby when someone called out to me. I turned. It was one of the Mutts who had escorted me from the building the last time I was here.

“You can't be here, sir,” he said, striding in my direction. “The Administration building is closed due to …” He looked off toward the front doors just as one of the cops, who'd been struggling with the civilian when I came in, was knocked back against the glass with a loud crack.

“… the, uh, disturbance,” he finished.

I considered telling him what was going on but from my last encounter with him, I knew he was a klutz and a noisy one at that; I needed stealth not an announcement I was coming.

“Look,” I said. “I don't have time for this. I need to get upstairs right now.”

“I'm sorry, sir, but I can't let you do that.”

“Okay, I'll make you a deal,” I said, digging in my pocket. I pulled out two twenty-dollar bills and held them up in his face. “I'm either going to knock you on your ass or you can walk away forty bucks richer. Your choice.”

I let the bills fall to the floor and reached in my pocket for my notebook.

“And,” I said, “if you call this number and relay this message, there'll be another forty in it for you.”

I hurriedly wrote Felice's number down along with a quick plea for help.

It took Mutt all of an eye blink to make a decision. At what he was being paid, it didn't surprise me. He stooped, picked up the money and grabbed the note from my hand.

“Found Keller. He has Jaz. Cooper's office. Send help.”

“Good,” I said. “I'm glad you can read.”

I turned and ran toward the stairs. When I looked back, he was still standing there, examining the note.

“Now,” I screamed and the poor kid nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Yes sir, yes sir, right away,” and in an instant he was gone.

I was winded by the time I reached the fifth floor. My body wanted to adopt a prone position, take five, or even ten, but I refused to let it. Cautiously opening the door, I peered down the long hallway. The corridor was dark but I could see a light coming from Cooper's office, illuminating the secretary's desk.

I eased out into the hall and, hugging the wall, I made my way toward the light, hoping that Felice's whole my-boots-squeak-frog-in-heat thing was just some weird metaphor.

As I drew nearer, I could hear them talking.

“… just do it, bitch.”

“It's password protected,” she said.

“Try ‘god'. Cooper always was an egotistical little prick.”

I crossed the hall and slid up to the open door. Jaz was sitting in Cooper's chair. I could just see her head above the monitor. Keller was at the side of the desk, gun in hand, facing in my direction. Any attempt to storm the office from this angle would make me dead. I had to find another way in and that's when I remembered there was another door to Cooper's office. I began to inch my way back down the hallway.

“Not working,” she said. “Access denied. I'll bet it's case sensitive. Do you know if it's upper or lower or some combination?”

“I don't even know what that case stuff is. Besides, what difference does it make? It's three fucking letters. Try them all.”

“There may be a lockout on it,” Jaz replied. I could tell she was stalling, giving him shit, hoping help would come.

I slipped around the corner, tiptoed to the adjoining office and slipped inside. The room was bare. I looked around for a weapon of some kind but the only thing in the room was a dismantled desk top computer. I hurried over and picked up the only weapon-like thing I could find. It was one of those ergonomic keyboards, solid plastic in an adjustable metal frame. I hefted it. It had a nice, weighty feel to it. Not quite the baseball bat I wished it was, but it would have to do.

I snuck over to the door, put my hand on the knob, prayed it didn't squeak any more than my boots, and twisted it with care. The door opened without a sound.

“Okay, I'm opening a file,” came Jaz's voice. “I'll try all the combinations on it until it opens. Then I'll know what the password is.”

“Smart,” said Keller. “I like smart ladies. You and I could do some righteous business together.”

“Yeah. I'll bet,” she said.

I stepped into the room. As I lifted the keyboard over my head, it must have brushed something because Keller turned, his gun arm swinging out ahead of his body. The gun went off at the same moment the keyboard connected with the side of his head, alphabet keys and wood splinters filling the air.

“Let's get the hell out of here,” I screamed, racing across the room as Keller crumpled to the floor.

Jaz scrambled out from behind the desk, hesitated half a second, grabbed the briefcase and flew out the door right behind me, passing me in an instant. Oh the glory of youth.

Out in the hall, she skidded to a halt and I nearly ploughed into her.

“Gotta go, gotta go,” I said.

“We need another way out,” she said, turning down a side corridor. “There's a fire exit down here.”

“Right,” I said, chasing after her.

She hit the fire exit door at a dead run, slamming it back against the wall. A set of dusty, dimly-lit stairs greeted us. It didn't look as if anyone had trodden these steps in years.

“No one uses these,” Jaz said as we scrambled downward. “It leads to the outside and the door is alarmed.”