Time Off for Good Behavior (28 page)

I smiled.
“
As I
’
m pretty sure you
’
d kick my ass
, I
’
d have to say no.
”

She walked over to me and put her hand on my shoulder.
“
I appreciate that you cared enough to talk to me about it.
”

I grinned at her.
“
No, you don
’
t. You wanna pull my damn hair out.
”

She grinned back.
“
Not all of it.
”

I glanced at m
y watch and stood up.
“
On that note, I have to run.
”

She sat down at the table and grabbed the paper.
“
I thought today was your day off.
”

“
It is,
”
I said, grabbing my jacket off the coatrack.
“
But, thanks to you, I
’
ve got a wall of sticky notes that aren
’
t
resolving themselves.
”

She smiled and waved me away.
“
Go do something meaningful, then.
”

***

The Randall P. McKay Shelter for Men was a small place downtown that was stuffed between a gay nightclub and the offices for the
Hastings Daily Reporter.
I walk
ed in the front door and found an older woman sitting at a desk, her arms wrapping a sweater tightly around her. Some shelter. It wasn
’
t any warmer inside the place than it was outside.

I handed her one of the color sheets I
’
d made at the Kinko
’
s down the
street.
“
Hi, my name is Wanda...
”
I looked down at the ID tag hanging around her neck.
“
... Karen. I
’
m running the Grand Santa Station over at Osgiliath Books, and I need some Santas.
”

Karen took the paper from me and skimmed it over, then handed it back.
“
Oh, honey. You don
’
t want to come here.
”

I gave a tight smile.
“
If I didn
’
t want to come here, then I wouldn
’
t be here. I
’
m just trying to give an opportunity for a little work.
”

She shook her head.
“
I appreciate it, honey, really, it
’
s a nice thou
ght, but I
’
m not going to post that here. These guys are not the guys you want around kids. Trust me.
”

I sighed. She was probably right. But after my flaming crash-and-burn with Elizabeth that morning, giving jobs to down-and-outs was the only meaningful t
hing I
’
d come up with. Turns out, doing something meaningful was a massive pain in the ass.

“
So there
’
s no one here who needs a job, then?
”
I said. Before she could answer, I felt myself thrown forward over her desk.

“
Hey, watch it!
”
I snapped, turning to
see what big buffoon was plowing through the Randall P. McKay Shelter for Men.
“
Well, I
’
ll be damned.
”

“
Who the fuck are you?
”
Lyle
’
s eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again.
“
Do I know you?
”

“
Told you,
”
Karen said, picking up her newspaper.

Lyle p
ointed his finger at me, wobbling forward slightly and then doubling back.
“
I know you.
”

“
Six grand goes fast, huh, Lyle?
”
I said. I took the paper back from Karen and gave her a smile.
“
I think you
’
re right. Thanks for your help.
”

I stepped outside and hu
rried away from the shelter. I paused briefly outside the
Hastings Daily Reporter
office, then pushed my way inside. The girl at the front desk was hanging up the phone as I stepped in. She turned to me and smiled.
“
Can I help you?
”
she asked.

“
Yes,
”
I sai
d.
“
I
’
m looking for Jennifer, in classified ads. She owes me a favor, and I
’
m here to collect.
”

***

One Santa ad and three errands later, I pulled into the parking lot at Hastings Channel 8. I didn
’
t want to go in, almost turned around and drove out with
out stopping, but the day had been a bust in regards to sticky notes. I had to start making some progress.

I pushed through the double glass doors. Someone I didn
’
t recognize was sitting at the front desk. Not a shock. Turnaround at Channel 8 tended to be
speedy, and the receptionists whirled in and out of that place so fast I was surprised they didn
’
t get whiplash.

“
Hi, I
’
m Wanda Lane. I
’
m here to see Cate Manton.
”
I flashed the new receptionist my most brilliant smile. She looked up at me and cracked her
gum, staring vapidly at me. I cleared my throat and spoke slower and louder.

“
Is Cate in today?
”

“
Damn straight she is!
”
Two firm hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. Cate was a tall woman, of solid German stock. I believe the term used mos
t often to describe her was
brick shithouse.

She turned to the receptionist.
“
It
’
s okay, Marguerite. She
’
s with me.
”

As Cate dragged me by the arm into her office, I heard the receptionist say,
“
My name is Heather.
”
Cate either didn
’
t notice or didn
’
t care
, so I let it go. Sometimes it
’
s easier to pretend you didn
’
t hear something. Heather
’
d be working somewhere else in a week or two, anyway.

“
You are not going to believe what
’
s been going on here,
”
Cate gushed as she shut the door behind her. I held up my
hand.

“
I don
’
t want to know.
”

“
Sure you do. Blaine got fired.
”

My mouth dropped.
“
You
’
re kidding! How did that happen?
”

Cate grinned.
“
His dad was so pissed off after you filed the lawsuit that he canned him.
”

I shook my head.
“
I didn
’
t file a lawsuit.
”

“
You didn
’
t? Word has it they paid you fifty grand to shut you up.
”

I rolled my eyes.
“
Do I look like anyone gave me fifty grand?
”
I reached into my purse and pulled out the package I
’
d just picked up at the novelty store.
“
I
’
m walking around with elf ears
in my purse, for Christ
’
s sake.
”

She checked out the ears and made a minor attempt to mask her concern.
“
Oh, sweetie, you need to come back.
”

“
No way, Cate. That
’
s not why I
’
m here. Look, I need your help.
”

“
Oh, sure, but seriously...
”
She pulled her eyes
away from the bag of ears but still looked concerned.
“
You need to come back. Things are so much better since Blaine left.
”

I held up my hands.
“
Waste of time, Catie. You can only sell television for so long before you lose your self-respect.
”

“
Since when
did you have any self-respect?
”
she asked with a grin. Her eyes dropped back to the package of ears and her smile faded. I grabbed them and shoved them back in my purse. She leaned forward.
“
Seriously, honey, what
’
s up with the ears?
”

“
Nothing
’
s up with th
e ears. Do you remember Molly Zane? I need to find her. I thought you might have an address on file. You know, where you sent her last check to, something like that.
”

Cate sat back and folded her arms across her chest.
“
You know it
’
s illegal for me to shar
e that information with you.
”

“
I know, and I
’
m sorry to ask, but I really need
—
”

She laughed.
“
Oh, shut up. I
’
ll get it for you. You just owe me, is all.
”

I grinned.
“
Don
’
t you ever change, Cate.
”

She rummaged through her keys and walked over to the filing
cabinet in the corner of her office.
“
I wouldn
’
t dream of it.
”

***

“
Wanda?
”
I froze as I heard Walter
’
s voice saying my name. I dropped the pen I
’
d been using to scratch down information from my home messages and sat down at Elizabeth
’
s kitchen table, h
olding the phone tight to my ear.

“
Elizabeth told me you
’
re okay. I hope that
’
s true. I just... I hope I didn
’
t... Agh.
”
He grunted in frustration. I felt my lunch rise in my throat.
“
If you just need time, I can respect that. If it
’
s something that I
’
ve d
one, I wish you would tell me. Tony hasn
’
t located your ex-husband yet, and I
’
m... concerned. Please, call me.
”

In my defense, I did call. I called and I let it ring and he answered the phone and I heard his voice and I started to cry and I hung up like a
big stupid cowardly stupid baby.

But I called.

***

“
How
’
s it going here, Kace?
”
I ambled up behind Kacey and placed a pile of burgers and fries and sodas on the desk next to the com
puter at the Santa Station. Kacey looked up at me and pulled the headphones out of her ears, turning off the portable CD player in her lap.
“
You say something, Wanda?
”

“
If that
’
s
’
Nsync, I
’
m gonna have a fit,
”
I said.
“
Remind me to get you a Huey Lewis CD
for your birthday.
”