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EIGHTEEN

“Alex! You’re still here,” Howard says, attempting to make his voice casual. He raises a hand in greeting, but his eyes flutter wide open under his glasses. Like he’s been caught, Alex thinks, swallowing anxiously.

His tie is pulled loose around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt undone. He starts toward her, his legs shooting out in jerky movements, and she fights the urge to run.

“Yes, I’ve been staying late, you know, to finish up all the letters. There are a lot of them.” She stumbles over her words, still recovering from the shock as she wipes coffee that’s splattered on her hand onto the leg of her jeans.

“I’m glad you’ve been settling in all right.” He comes to stand awkwardly next to her. He looks garish under the fluorescent lights. There are bags under his eyes she hadn’t noticed before, a gray paleness to his skin that makes him look like he may be getting sick. Alex wishes she could tell him about the threatening letter. Ask him if Francis ever received one. But doing so would put her in a negative light, she thinks. She doesn’t want him to think she’s already causing problems, or that she can’t handle it.

“Yes, Lucy has been a big help.” He gives her a funny look, one she can’t quite read. She thinks he might be angry. Maybe this is it, the moment she gets fired.

Instead, he apologizes. “Alex, I’m so sorry I haven’t come by to see you sooner. I know I said I would. Time just got away from me.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure you’re busy with real news,” Alex says. “There is a lot going on in the world.” She glances down the hall, acutely aware that they are the only two people in the office. In the whole building, as far as she knows. Anything could happen and no one would be here to see.

He gives a little snort and waves his hand in front of him. “Please. Real news these days is always the same. Bad. Your column, that’s the important thing. That’s what our readers want.”

Alex doesn’t know what to say. “It’s fine. Really, I’m doing just fine. It’s only been a couple of days anyway.” She suddenly wants this uncomfortable exchange to be over.

“No. It’s no excuse.” He shakes his head, disgusted with himself. “I always make sure I give my best to my staff. I want you to know that this is not typical of me.”

“I’m sure. I remember reading about how much Francis respected you,” Alex says diplomatically. It’s true. In every interview Alex had read while Francis was alive, she’d mentioned Howard’s name. A great editor , she called him. A moral compass. What would she think of the man sneaking around by her office after hours? Was this his normal behavior? Alex looks at the man before her and tries to see him as a moral compass but just can’t.

Howard’s face goes slack at the mention of Francis’s name. His legs waver and he reaches a hand out to steady himself against the wall, but he stumbles and falls toward her. Alex winces, closing her eyes as his hand flies toward her face. His palm lands flat against the wall just next to her head.

As she carefully opens her eyes, she notices the pale stripe on his ring finger. The indentation where his wedding band had been. What has happened? Alex thinks of the beautiful woman from the photos. Now she can see the strain in his eyes. Is that what she has been witnessing this week, the end of Howard Demetri’s marriage?

“Oh, my goodness, look at me! Long day and I completely missed lunch,” he says in nearly a whisper, pushing himself back upright. And then she smells it. Something sharp and familiar on his breath. Whiskey . She draws away from him, against the wall. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Francis always had a way of finding the right letter,” he says suddenly, his posture straightening.

“What was that?” Alex asks, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

He frowns. “She always said that she would answer the first one in a week that made her cry.”

“Thank you,” Alex says, her heart thudding. She eyes him carefully. But he turns away from her now, swaying as he goes back toward the newsroom, the scent of whiskey trailing him down the hallway.

She feels a shiver at her back as she starts down the hall in the opposite direction. As jarring as the exchange was for her, Alex can tell that Howard hadn’t expected to see her either. Which makes her question, if he wasn’t coming to see her, what was he doing there?