Road…”
“Donny, I can’t hear you. Speak up.” She made a mental note to get her hearing checked. Use her medical insurance for something other than pap smears and mammograms.
“On Old Towne Road. They found a girl. A young girl…” He said it again, this time louder.
“Is she dead?”
“This can’t get out. I mean it. Not yet, anyway.”
“Donny…” She was yelling at this point. “… is she dead?”
“Janny, my ass will be grass if this gets out. You hear me?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She hated it when he called her “Janny.” Janice was her name, not Janny. Just because his name ended in a “Y,” he felt he could make everybody else’s fit.
“We’re trying to do the right thing, here, Janny. Notify the parents, and all. To be honest, it’s a fuckin’ mess.”
Answer my question. “Did she die?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What else?” She asked.
“There’s a sicko out there. I mean a real sicko! The girl was freakin’ mutilated down there, you know, her private parts.”
Janice tried to picture a mutilated girl. Little pieces of flesh scattered around on a hospital gurney like pickup sticks. Gross.
“I can’t talk about it. People are comin’ back into the room. Sorry, babe.”
“That’s alright.”
The line went dead. She stood, frozen, enthralled by the prospect of a story, a career breaking story no less, and, of course, the notion of possible danger always got her wet. Her two most favorite things. A story and danger. Okay, one more thing to add to the list. Her three most favorite things. Lisette . She would have to include her now too. Definitely.
Jake raised his head from the floor and tilted it to one side in that adorable way only Jake could do.
Janice ended the call and pondered her options. She was stubborn. She was terrific at following directions to a point, but don’t overload her circuits. She was tightly coiled and easily set off. Loose cannon. Unlike Lisette, Janice liked it when all hell broke loose. Chaos! As a child, she absolutely drove her mother crazy. At sixteen, her therapist informed her mother that if she didn’t get over the compulsion to destroy herself, she probably wouldn’t live to see thirty. Imagine a head doctor, a shrink for God’s sake, saying something like that. Well she had six weeks to go. Any bets?
Janice grabbed her jacket from off the chair and a steno pad. Her constant companion. She even had clothes on for a change. She hated admitting it, but there had been a few times she’d been so eager, so desperate for a story, she’d actually showed up at a crime scene still wearing her pajamas. Early bird gets the worm. No pride. No wonder she got crank calls. The cops probably had a sick bet going on. Get that female reporter, you know, the one with the big tits. We heard she fucking streaks to the scene. Almost made her want to laugh. Almost.
Lisette.
Sigh.
She was glad Lisette called. She was relieved to know Lisette was home safely. Securely tucked into her Queen sized bed. Not that Janice would know Lisette had a Queen sized bed. She had never actually been to Lisette’s house, or been alone with her in it. She tried imagining it though. All cozy and warm, made up in fall colors, burnt reds and browns, every shade to match Lisette’s hair, her skin. And that smell. She could overdose on that smell. She liked Lisette. More than she cared to admit.
As usual, Jake followed her to the front door, his stubby tail moving like a whirly bird. She leaned down and planted an enormous kiss on his snout. She took in his smell. Pure sweet dog. He loved it when she did that. He only hated it when she would leave.
“Jake, maybe we’d be better off if I just loved you. Only you. Keep things simple. Nice and safe. No disappointments, no hurts, no nasty goodbyes. What do ‘ya think?”
Jake wagged his tail. What did he