Wings to the Kingdom (Eden Moore 2)

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Jamie asked.

I nodded. “We’re all okay. We’re all just tired. Right?” I looked over to Benny, then over my shoulder at Jamie. “We are all okay, aren’t we?”

They mumbled assent, though Benny put his hand to his head with a wince.

I leaned forward until my brow was creased against the steering wheel. “Let’s go. ” Without looking, I jabbed the key into the ignition.

I couldn’t keep Lu and Dave waiting.

Benny showed up on the mountain shortly after the first hint of daylight, begging to be let inside. He figured that since our number was unlisted, except for Dave’s studio office, the reporters might have a harder time tracking me down. He figured right, sort of. Though Channel 3 had located Benny’s home within an hour, it took them all of three to catch up with me.

Benny cowered in the kitchen when Lu opened the door.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Nick Alders from WRCB. Is Eden available?”

I shook my head fiercely—no, no, no—but Lu just opened the door farther and invited the man inside.

“Baby,” she said, “you went out and made this mess. You clean it up. Can I get you fellows anything?”

The heavily laden cameraman and reporter duo declined, but thanked her.

Tall, brunet, and violently tanned, Nick Alders beamed his big-toothed way into my living room, hand outstretched to shake mine.

There was no statement to be made by being rude, so I took it and obliged him. He dipped his head and called me “ma’am,” same as he’d done to my aunt, but that was no surprise. He wanted to butter me up good and see what slipped out.

“Miss Moore, we were very much hoping we could have a moment of your time, to talk about the incident at the battlefield last night. ”

“Why me?” I asked, glancing into the kitchen and seeing no sign of Benny.

“Your friends have both declined to provide us with a report in the matter, but with all those rumors flying around, we sure would like to give you the opportunity to set the record straight. ”

“What rumors?”

The cameraman turned to set a blocky canvas bag down on the ground. He adjusted the equipment—pulling out digital memory cards and investigating his battery supply.

Nick didn’t answer as fast as I would have liked; and when he did respond, he was vague. “Oh, you know how it is around here. People like to talk. ”

“I do know that for a fact,” I agreed, with matched vagueness.

He flicked his eyes to the sofa as though he wanted me to adjourn to the seat, but I stood my ground. We were eye to eye and I liked it that way. I was tired and beat up from the previous evening, and pissy about the intrusion. And I felt stronger if I was ready to run, even when I didn’t intend to.

“Would you care to sit down?” he asked.

“No thanks. I’m fine. ”

He cleared his throat and motioned to his assistant. “Well. All right, then. Would you um, hang on—Calvin, if you could just bring that up here I’d appreciate it, yeah, thanks—okay, Miss Moore, would you care to give us your take on the events at the battlefield last night?”

Again I looked over into the kitchen. I hadn’t heard the door to the garage open or close, so I could only assume that Benny was crouched on the floor behind the counter.

I shrugged as Lu excused herself to the porch and left me to my journalistic fate. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“What would you like to tell us?”

“Tell you about what?”

His hundred-watt smile twitched. “Ma’am, I sure would love to be the one asking the questions, here. ”

“Then why don’t you ask me something specific?”