It’s been a long day. I arrive at the Riverside anxious for dinner and a drink, as I do more often than I like to admit. I scan down the bar looking to claim my usual spot at the upper end. Not very busy. I like that.
Mercury, also a regular, is seated at my usual spot. Cassie is with her, that’s how slow things are this evening. That they are probably chatting about the investigations in progress. because, let’s face it, what else is there to talk about in Middle Valley?
Mercury and Cassie notice me and Cassie gives me a wave as she abruptly gets up. Mercury grabs Cassie’s arm and holds her for a few final words. I don’t think it’s paranoid to think that had to do with my being here.
I wave back to Cassie and immediately grab her stool. Merc and I quickly exchange pleasantries,
“Pretty quiet here tonight.”
She nods.
I order a gin and tonic, a departure for me. I’m not sure why.
“I convinced my boss to give me the assignment I requested — to write about Carson, or did I tell you that already?”
Mercury nods again.
Unusual for her not to say much.
“Am I right in thinking that Carson is a murderer? … Fact is, I think I am sitting on a scoop the likes of which Middle Valley has never seen..”
Mercury is visibly upset. “I knew about your assignment to write about Carson but that was the extent of it. I’ve always been a little suspicious, maybe even wary, of Carson … ever since he and Lindy tried to start that magazine, but that was just my amateur read of his personality before I’d even met Silas.”
Cautiously, I decide to keep pushing.
“Am I right in thinking you’ve been piecing this case together? There’s more than we know, isn’t there?”
Merc shakes her head and looks at the last swallow of wine in her glass. “Confidential. Sorry.”
I can tell I’ve hit a nerve. “We can work together, you know. Share information. … I mean, I have an open budget for this one, so I figure at least one visit out West, maybe two, to poke around a bit.”
I pick up a cocktail napkin and draw a loose rendition of the United States with a line representing Route 66, from LA to Oklahoma.
“I think the trip might look something like this, beginning in Tulsa, Oklahoma with various stops along Route 66 and ending up in Silicon Valley. I’m just not sure where all to stop … but you know, don’t you?”
Mercury motions to the new bar maid for check.
“Wait,” I say, “Let me buy you another. It’s always been kind of a dream of mine to drive Route 66, actually …”
Mercury shakes her head and stands up.
“Thanks, Bernie, but I don’t think so.”
“See what Silas says,” I say, my last ditch effort to get into her good graces on the subject.
She nods and turns toward the door.
Well, there’s some progress.
Jenny Page