Gathering String by Mimi Johnson Read Free Book Online

Tess could tell he changed his next words. “Everyone must be waiting.” He looked down at the open bottle and cups, and added, “Happy hour?” The grin deepened. “If I’d known, I’d have run right over with fried cheese sticks and ice.” Stripping off one of his gloves, he offered Sam his hand. “Jack Westphal.”
    “Sam Waterman.” Sam stood and shook the hand, feeling suddenly old and pasty. “I hope you don’t mind.” He smiled, easing the sharp angles from his face. “We were just catching up and . . .”
    “I figured the least I could do was offer Sam a drink,” Tess filled in. “We worked together when we were both at the Trib . Sam’s with Politifix now.”
    Jack nodded. “Sure, I know the name. Won the Ernie Pyle a few years back, right? I always meant to read that piece ... ” Sam waved him off. For a split second, Jack studied the dark-haired man, and then inclined his head toward the bottle. “No problem about the drink. It was a cold day for old bones.” Sam’s smile faded as Jack looked back at his wife. "I hate to break up old times, but we’re really late.”
    “Right,” Sam grabbed the stopper to the liquor bottle. “I’ll clear out and let you both go.”
    “Unless you’d like to join us?” Jack asked. “I bet you’ve got some killer war stories from back in the day.” There was indifference in the deep voice.
    Sam’s sharp eyes swept the tall figure. “Thanks, she already offered, but I’ve got one of those o-dark-thirty flights in the morning. So this old man ,” Sam's hooded green eyes sparkled, like a wolf eyeing prey, “better pack it in. I appreciate the drink though.”
    “Any time. You know where I keep it.” Jack laughed again. As Sam gathered his things, Jack looked down at the liquid in the bottle and suddenly suggested, “Hey, why don’t we give you a ride back to the Inn?” It was the only place in town Sam could have a room. “It won’t take 10 minutes. You could pick up your car in the morning.”
    Moving toward the door, Sam stopped dead in his tracks, the predatory glare open now as he looked back at the younger man. But catching Tess’s eye, just beyond her husband’s shoulder, he paused, then said firmly, “I’m fine. Anyway, our photographer is over at that little café just down from the grocery store. He’s got the car, and I’m meeting him.”
    “Great.”
    Sam didn’t acknowledge Jack’s reply, just grabbed the doorknob and shot over his shoulder, “Take care, Tess,” and went out into the windy dark.

Sam and Tess
     

Chapter 4
     
     
    Waterman came awake gulping for air. Propping himself on an elbow, he gasped the ghostly smell of burning gasoline back into his memory, hoping his hammering heart slowed before it threw a valve. Brushing his hair back from his damp forehead, still breathing hard, he squinted into the dark, knowing he was in a hotel room and trying to remember where. When it came to him, he rose and pulled on some jeans, jerking a sweatshirt over his head.
    He rummaged in his computer bag and pulled out the pouch that held his laptop power cord. Inside there was also a tiny, plastic case holding two cigarettes and a book of matches. No matter which airport, the TSA agents never caught them.
    In spite of the cold, Sam opened the door of the Tall Call Inn’s non-smoking room and propped it with his hip. Cupping his hands, he lit the Marlboro and shook out the match as he looked up into the night sky. The clouds were clearing. The stars were bright, out here on the edge of town. And on the rustle of wind in the bare trees, Sam could have sworn he heard her whisper, “I think we’re going to be frightened dreamers.” Raising the cigarette back to his lips, the past pressed down on him.
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    He noticed her the first day she appeared in the Washington Tribune newsroom. Slim, with short, blond, curly hair, and wide blue eyes, she had the shiksa looks that always