Turning Secrets by Brenda Chapman

Author:Brenda Chapman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2019-05-10T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Marci was at her desk by 7:00 a.m. She’d brewed a pot of coffee and was on her second cup when the other reporters straggled in just before 9:00. The urge for a cigarette made her fingers twitch but she refused to give in. She wanted to call Rouleau but she wouldn’t give in to that craving, either. He’d sent her a text the evening before, around eight, saying that he wouldn’t be over and she’d been disappointed, even though she’d already guessed that he wasn’t going to show. Waiting around for him to call was so high school. The very idea of letting a man do this to her again filled her with disgust. The question was, what was she prepared to do about it?

She looked out the window at the morning haze blotting out the view of the sky. Her drive to work had been done in darkness; the sun started peeking over the distant treeline when she pulled into the parking lot. A ribbon of pink-and-violet sky broke the line of indigo by the time she’d locked her car and entered the front door. She’d had the radio tuned to CBC and sighed at the forecast. Unsettled weather. Periods of sun but mainly cloudy. Carry an umbrella to be on the safe side. Another day of crazy weather north of the forty-ninth parallel.

Screw this, she thought, reaching for the phone on her desk. Better to know if Rouleau’s dumped me than wait around like a Jane Austen bimbo.

Rick breezed into her office and she pulled her hand back. He plopped down in the visitor chair, dunking a tea bag into a bright-yellow mug while he looked her over. “Is that a new sweater?”

“I do have some half-decent pieces in my closet.”

“Well, pull them out more often, girl. It’s refreshing to see you in something from this decade. The green goes well with your coppery hair.”

“Stop. You’ll have me blushing.”

“I doubt that. How’s it coming with the murder case? Still making meaningful music with the delish sergeant in arms?”

“None of your business.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes.

“Coy becomes you.”

“Goes with the sweater.” The phone rang and her heart jumped until she saw Scotty’s name on the screen. She picked up and listened to him tell her to make the trek to his office before the phone went dead. She stood and grabbed her iPad. “Duty calls,” she said with false gaiety.

“Give my best to Scotty,” Rick said. “I know I’d sure like to.”

She was still running Rick’s sexual innuendo around in her mind as she took the seat across from her boss. She’d wondered about Scotty’s personal life since she started at the paper. The thing was, Rick said that same suggestive line about every man around, regardless of his orientation. She suspected Scotty preferred women but couldn’t pinpoint why. He was unmarried, forty-something, and short. The jury could swing either way.

Scotty looked at her over his computer screen. “I got your piece on the Nadia Armstrong killing.

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