to pound. She swallowed hard and stepped onto the porch, the boards creaking in protest of her weight. Her hand shook as she reached toward the old rusted handle, hoping the whole time there would be no answer. She’d barely touched knob when the sound of breaking glass made them both jump.
“What the…”
“Oh, my god!” Sally’s heart pounded so hard she felt as if her chest might explode.
A black cat bounded away from them, artfully dodging pieces of a broken Coke bottle.
“May I help you?”
Sally jumped again, this time bumping into Yasif, who nearly fell backward off the porch. She grabbed his arm to steady him.
A young man stood in the doorway, squinting in the afternoon light. “Are you all right?”
Sally took a moment to catch her breath. “I’m Sally Singletary, a reporter for the Hidden Lake Investigator .” She fished in her bag, then with a shaking hand, handed him a card. “Are you Jake DeLancie?”
As he studied the card, Sally studied him. The guy looked awful. Aside from the grungy clothes, there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His skin was dry, his face gaunt. “Yeah, I’m Jake,” his voice croaked. “What’s this about?”
Sally closed her eyes and steadied herself. “Can we come in and talk?”
“I really don’t think…” He scratched his head nervously. “Look, right now is really not a good time…”
“We just have a few questions about someone you once knew.”
He stared at her, one eye partially closed as if in pain. She had his attention, at least.
She turned, handing some money to Yasif. “Try to get him to wait for us.”
Yasif nodded and hurried off.
Sally pointed behind her. “That’s my co-chief, Yasif Zerriouh.”
“Where did you say you were from?” Jake asked.
“Hidden Lake Prep School,” Sally replied.
A look of recognition crossed his face. “Isn’t that that rich kid’s boarding school? Who the hell would I know there?”
“If we could just come in and talk…” Sally moved forward. Jake made no indication of letting her pass.
Yasif returned. “He said ten minutes.”
Sally turned back to Jake. “Do the names Billy Martin or Daniel Sherman ring a bell?”
At the sound of Daniel’s name, Jake’s eyes grew wide. “I… uh… Look… I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He pointed toward the cab. “Get the hell out of here.” He slammed the door.
“That went well.” Sally debated knocking again, but decided that would only make matters worse.
“You’re giving up?” Yasif followed her up the walk.
“Of course not. We just need a new strategy.”
Yasif pulled open the cab door and let her in. “Guess we won’t be needing that ten minutes then.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JAKE STOOD IN THE DARKNESS with his back to the door, old memories surfacing in his mind. It had been three years since he’d last seen Daniel. Why did these kids want to bring it all back? He thought he’d finally gotten over what had happened. But the truth was, his feelings were just as strong as they’d been that day.
Jake pushed himself away from the door and made his way through the dark space that was his home. As he moved through the trash strewn about—empty beer cans and bottles, paper, wrappers, and various other empty food canisters—he cleared a spot on the couch and sat, pondering. Why now?
Sadness overwhelmed him and he buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t hold back the flood of emotion that he’d kept locked up. By the time he regained control, evening had settled and the living room was nearly pitch black. He picked up the card the girl had given him and rummaged through the mess until he found his phone. Flipping it open, he dialed the number on the card.
“Hello?” Her voice had sounded just as calm and collected as it had been when she spoke at his house.
“I’ll meet you at the diner in town at six.” Before she could respond, he snapped the phone shut, his heart pounding, his eyes
The Heritage of the Desert