Black Swan Rising by Lisa Brackmann

Author:Lisa Brackmann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: black swan;black swan rising;lisa brackman;lisa brickman;lisa brickmann;mystery;mystery fiction;mystery book;mystery novel;CVR02072018;CVR03012018;CVR07022018
Publisher: Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.
Published: 2018-08-02T15:41:24+00:00

26

Come around to the back, Jane had texted. Someone will let you in. As soon as Sarah pulled up to headquarters she saw why: media vans and cars had gathered there, waiting, it seemed, for something to happen. One of them was from News 9.

Jane herself opened the door. “Thanks for coming.”

They walked down the hall that led to their office suite. “The News 9 people are here.”

“I saw them.”

Jane paused for a moment by the restrooms. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Sarah nodded. “I’m sure.”

She wasn’t, not at all. But she wanted to stay on the campaign. Ben’s job was open right now, and this was a way to prove herself.

I don’t look the way I used to look, she told herself. And she didn’t think anyone would recognize her voice. No one had ever much cared about what she had to say.

Casey Cheng was taller than Sarah had expected—maybe an inch taller than she was. But she was slender, even a little frail—the aftereffects of the shooting, maybe. Her hand trembled slightly as it grasped the head of the cane; the skin around her eyes seemed almost translucent beneath the camera-ready makeup.

I could bench-press her, Sarah thought. Which made her feel better, somehow. Like she wasn’t the weak one in this situation, as weak as she felt.

“Hi, Sarah, thanks so much for agreeing to talk to us.” Cheng smiled in a way that sparkled. You’d forget about any frailty, seeing that smile. She stuck out her hand for Sarah to shake. Her grip was firm, confident. “I know it’s not an easy thing to do.”

It seems easy enough for you, Sarah wanted to say.

“You can set up in my office,” Jane said. There was no other place in the headquarters that was remotely private. Everyone tried to act like things were normal as the big Latino cameraman from News 9 took shots of the headquarters, of Tomás doing vol-calls, trying to round up a few more volunteers for phone banking and canvassing, of Sylvia working on her laptop.

But nothing was normal. There were the news crews ringing the parking lot, the police car parked at the curb. Inside, a volunteer taped sympathy signs and cards to a blank wall, and someone had sent over several bouquets of flowers, teddy bears, and heart-shaped balloons.

Ben would be here if things were normal.

Ben was doing better, Jane told her. They were still worried about his kidneys, but he was doing better. His parents had flown in from Michigan and they were at the hospital now, so at least he wasn’t alone.

Sarah wished she were doing this someplace else, but where? Not at her apartment. Not at the station—the last thing she wanted to do was walk into a newsroom. Headquarters at least was familiar. Comfortable.

She wished she wasn’t doing this at all.

As they walked into the office, Jane rested her hand on Sarah’s arm for just a moment. “If there’s any point where you’re not comfortable, just stop,” she said in a low voice.

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