Page 8 of Devil's Hour
“I’m Detective Locke, and this is my partner, Detective Key.” She shook both their hands and looked at them expectantly, but Royce wasn’t willing to conduct the interview in the lobby where anyone entering or exiting the building could overhear them. “Is there someplace we can speak privately?”
Her mouth tipped up on one corner. “Locke and Key? Really?”
“Really,” Sawyer replied with a warm chuckle.
She relaxed her posture slightly. “Let’s chat in my office, then.” Without waiting for them to respond, Minerva pivoted and headed in the direction from which she came. “I have a phone conference scheduled in thirty minutes. Should I ask my assistant to reschedule or will that be enough time for us to speak?”
“Thirty minutes is more than adequate,” Royce said.
The paper’s motto, “Light of the Coastal Empire and Lowcountry,” was painted in an elegant script on one wall of the hallway leading to the offices, and more framed headlines adorned the opposite wall. Royce wished he had time to look at each one because the daily newspaper was a big part of his childhood. His father had started each morning with black coffee laced heavily with whiskey, half a pack of unfiltered Marlboros, and theSavannah Morning News. His mother, and later his aunt, never threw them out. They’d found numerous things to use them for around the house from washing windows to helping fruits and vegetables ripen.
“Delivering newspapers was my first job,” Royce said when Minerva Driscoll stopped at her office door. He’d loved earning money to buy cool stuff like comic books and enough ice cream to make himself sick. Royce had taken pride in delivering his papers on time, earning both praise and bigger tips from his paper route customers. The job had kept him out of trouble until he’d figured out the cool things his dick could do.Some things never change.
Minerva ushered them inside an elegantly decorated office that suited her and shut the door to give them privacy. “The newspaper industry on the whole played such a huge role in our nation’s history and development, and it makes me sad to think of a time in the not-so-distant future when it will no longer be relevant. So much has changed from the way we get our news to the integrity of the people reporting it.”
“Very true,” Sawyer said, and Royce could tell he was thinking about her star reporter, Fleabag Franklin.
She gestured to a cozy sitting area consisting of a loveseat, club chair, and coffee table tucked in the corner. “Is this okay?”
“It’s perfect,” Royce said, sitting on the loveseat beside Sawyer while Minerva gracefully lowered herself onto the club chair across from them, crossing her incredible legs.
“What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
Without giving her any particulars, Royce began asking questions about the process from printing the papers to bagging and delivering them to homes in Chatham County. She told them the newspapers were printed off-site and delivered in large bundles each morning. “Delivery personnel—commercial and residential—are responsible for sorting papers for their own routes. Our commercial carriers leave them in the bundles and cut the strings when they stack the retail shelves or load them into machines. Our residential carriers count, fold, and place each paper in a bag before setting out to deliver them. Our carriers begin their day at four in the morning.”
With the papers arriving in large bundles, there would be no way someone at the printing company could know which paper would be launched toward the Goodwins’ door. That left the carrier or someone who came along after the newspaper was delivered. If it was the latter, The Purists either tampered with the Goodwins’ paper or quickly swapped it out with one they brought with them.
“Can I ask why you’re curious?” Minerva inquired. “Is one of our employees a suspect in a crime?”
“We’re not able to comment on an open investigation, ma’am,” Sawyer said kindly.
“That’s neither a yes nor a no,” she replied, shifting her gaze to Royce. She looked hopeful he might be more forthcoming.
Royce smile apologetically. “It’s the only answer we can give you at this time.”
She nodded, then rose from her chair. “Well, if there’s nothing else I can help you with, I need to prepare for my conference call.”
Royce and Sawyer rose too. Sawyer smiled politely and wished her a good day, and Royce thanked her for her time and help.
Once alone in the hallway, Sawyer chuckled. “Man, she’s not at all what I expected when you told me we were coming here to meet someone named Minerva. I was thinkingHarry Potternot some fifties pinup model lookalike.”
“Well, that will teach you not to make assumptions about people based on their names and job titles,” Royce said smugly.
“You’re so full of shit,” Sawyer said. “You practically swallowed your tongue when you caught sight of her. You weren’t expecting her to be so hot and young. Hell, you even forgot to use your new fancy title.”
“Fine, she caught me by surprise, but I didn’t swallow my tongue.” Royce’s bisexuality was one of those important things they’d skirted around. Royce knew that needed to change, but it would wait until they had privacy. “I was thinking Betty White,” he admitted.
“Golden GirlsBetty White orHot in ClevelandBetty White?” Sawyer asked, sounding just as relieved as Royce to change the subject.
“Golden Girls. My mom loved the show. Aunt Tipsy and I used to watch reruns of her favorite episodes together on her birthday while eating Mom’s double chocolate cake. Aunt T taught me how to bake it.”
“It sounds like a beautiful way to remember someone you love,” Sawyer said, lightly bumping his good shoulder. “We also need to have a conversation about why you’ve been holding out on me for seven weeks. I love double chocolate cake.”
Royce usually only baked it once a year on his mother’s birthday, but he’d make an exception for Sawyer. “I’ll introduce you to my double chocolate cake soon.” He also decided it was time to stop avoiding potentially sensitive conversations too.
Sawyer stopped in the hallway suddenly, causing Royce to pull up too. “I didn’t mean anything by my comments about Minerva. I don’t want you to feel as if you need to walk on eggshells every time a pretty woman is near. People in a committed relationship still notice attractive people.” On the one hand, Royce was grateful his bisexuality didn’t seem to be a problem for Sawyer, but on the other, he hated the idea of Sawyer noticing other men. “Attraction doesn’t mean action.” Then Sawyer started laughing. “You should see your face. You look like you’re ready to club me over the head and drag me back to your cave. I’ll tell you a little secret,” Sawyer said, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “I think your caveman routine is hot. I shouldn’t, but I do. Right now, you’re thinking about taking me to bed and imprinting yourself on my brain so I couldn’t possibly notice any other men, let alone want them.”
“It wasn’t your brain I was thinking about, GB.” Royce inhaled a shaky breath and stepped back. They hadn’t touched each other in a sexual way, and their proximity could be explained by them not wanting to be overheard, but Royce knew things could quickly spiral out of control. “We need to change the subject to something more appropriate.”