Page 20 of True Ruin

She wanted to know everything, which wasn’t uncomplicated at all.

Neither was wanting to tell her.

Lloyd Halpern snapped his fingers in front of Dallas’s face, bringing him rudely back to the present. “You’re not here, True.”

Dallas blinked at the random doodles. No. He was not.

His editor peered over his shoulder at the meager progress and plucked one suspender in disapproval.

Dallas glanced back with a frown. “You realize I’m a volunteer, right?”

“Story’s due today, Hotshot, no matter the specifics of employment.”

Dallas closed his eyes and let the sounds of the school assembly filter in, picturing parents’ faces lighting up as they watched their children perform. What it meant to have a supportive community behind you, everyone working toward a common goal. It had to feel good.

There was plenty there for a solid story.

“Don’t forget to add something about the fire alarm going off,” Halpern said, feeding copy into the fax machine. “’Cause you were just about the only person around when Bob showed up. He’s not the swiftest of sheriffs, but he’s reliable. He never did figure out who pulled it, which isn’t a surprise.”

“I was the only person.” He’d slipped out through the same door Gabi had, then positioned himself out front. When the group of teens burst from the building, he’d pointed them toward the back parking lot—an easy escape across the football field—with a stern look he hated admitting he was old enough to pull off. If they’d gone down the main drive, Promise’sreliablesheriff’s department of one would have seen them running and blamed the wrong offenders.

“Kinda interesting you were still hanging around,” his editor murmured, trying for idle curiosity and coming out somewhere near interrogation.

Dallas lifted his booted foot from beneath the table and flexed his ankle. “I still had the cast. Waiting on my ride.”

Halpern grunted. “Is driving advisable now, with that thing?”

Dallas traced his pen along the page, rereading what he’d written. Now his editor sounded like Justin, even though the trip from the cottage to theDispatchoffice was three miles total, if that.

“Hey, almost forgot,” Dallas said, keeping his head down so Halpern wouldn’t see his smile. “About that editorial you had me review. Slight revision in the first paragraph:e.g., noti.e.You were giving examples.”

Halpern went still. “I know that. Simple error. I’ll fix it right up.”

Dallas hummed and kept writing.

Halpern turned and leaned back against the filing cabinet, hooking his thumbs in his suspenders. “Hey, almost forgot. Gabi Wilder stopped by this morning, placing an ad for her food truck. Back when you worked here, she’d come in now and again with cheerleading bake sale stuff, and you’d get twitchy.”

Dallas leaned back and cracked his neck. “I never got twitchy.”

When they both knew he had.

“Great girl. Woman, I should say.” Halpern rolled a sheet into the typewriter, though Dallas doubted the man had anything to type. “Fine mother, too. That waste of an ex-husband shows up when it suits him, leaves her to carry the rest. She even volunteers at the Children’s Center with your cousin Campbell and his missus. Nice person, that one.”

Dallas swiveled his chair to face him, folding his hands over his stomach. “Chief, if there’s advice you’re circling, say it straight.”

Halpern grinned, setting the paper against the drum. “Family can be a good thing. Grounding for a roving soul such as yourself. Justin lives here now. Campbell, too, after getting tired of that fancy career that had him jetting all over the world taking photographs. William’s been home an awful lot lately. Maybe he’s the next to move back, unless you beat him to it.”

Pushing his glasses up, Dallas rubbed his eyes. “Ransom hasn’t been called William since Reagan was in office. And he’ll never leave Brooklyn. I’m just saying.”

“Well, I’m just saying, you could do a lot worse than Miss Wilder. And since my ambitious visions for you more than came true, she could do a lot worse thanyou.”

“I’m begging you, Chief, please don’t say this to Kit when he’s working with me.”

“Can’t help that my advice’s as outstanding as your stories, Hotshot.” Halpern cleared his throat and gave the typewriter carriage an unnecessary turn. “There’s something else I should tell you. Well, you see, I might retire soon. Mabel’s been talking about getting an RV and traveling around the country, spending more time with the grandkids in Virginia and whatnot. I’m not getting any younger, but Promise needs a newspaper, same as any small town. Like I always taught you, it’s a community lifeline, but there isn’t?—”

“They offered me Cairo,” Dallas interjected before Halpern could finish his heartbreaking plea. His breath slid out in a ragged rush. “Deputybureau chief.”

Halpern rocked forward, his chair squealing beneath him. “Bureau chief.”