Page 158 of Hello, Summer
“Conley! We just got a Google Alert from Silver Bay about the kidnapping and the shooting and the other thing. I’ve been trying to call your cell all day. Are you all right?”
“Just a little shaken up,” Conley said. “My phone’s temporarily out of commission.”
“Your colleague Michael? He filed some amazing photos. That one of the car with the porch roof falling down on it? And the body bag in the yard? Unbelievable.”
“That’s my grandmother’s front porch,” she said quietly. “And her front yard.”
“Oh my God. That makes it worse.”
“It doesn’t get much worse than what happened this morning,” Conley agreed.
“I hate to ask, but are you too shaken up to work? Because I’ve got a crew on the way down there. We want to do an on-camera interview with you, of course, but from that brief Michael filed earlier, I can tell there’s a lot more to this story. I mean, what? A rogue cop? And I understand he was stalking you?”
Conley felt her face flush. “Yes.”
“And the deejay, the one who got shot, trying to save your life, he was a fugitive?”
“It seems so.”
“I know I keep repeating myself, but this whole thing is so unbelievable. And coming so close on the heels of this whole Robinette story. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle of bad news down there.”
“Yeah,” Conley agreed, remembering her complaint that nothing ever happened in Silver Bay.
“It’s too late to get anything out of Atlanta now, but tomorrow I’m gonna fly into… Where’s the nearest airport?”
“Probably Pensacola,” Conley said.
“I’ll text you when I land, okay? Wait, you said your phone’s broken?”
“Call the office like you just did,” Conley said. “I’ll be here.”
“Unbelievable,” Selena said. “You’re like my shero. Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.”
She hung up the phone.
“Well?” Michael had been unashamedly eavesdropping, but that was typical of every newsroom in which she’d ever worked.
“She’s coming down tomorrow, and they’re bringing a camera crew,” Conley said slowly.
He pounded his desktop. “I knew it. This story is your ticket out of here.”
“What?”
“You know, your ticket out. To the bigs. First, the Robinette thing, and now this? You said you were just here temporarily, right?”
“Right. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to work for the network. That’s a big leap, you know.”
“Not for you,” he said, ever loyal.
“So. What have you found out about Walter Poppell?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, man. So much. For one thing, he had a juvie record.”
“Huh. My friend Skelly played football with him back in high school. He mentioned that Poppell got kicked off the team, but he said nobody ever knew why. It was hushed up. What did he do?”
“Beat up a girl and sexually assaulted her.”
“Oh my God,” Conley whispered. Her stomach lurched, and she was afraid she’d vomit again. She swallowed hard. “How does something like that get hushed up? How did he get hired as a cop?”
