Rob Blackwell - A Soul To Steal

“See you guys later,” she said. Quinn waved and the two walked out the door.

Kate pulled her jacket closer to her and shivered in the night air.

“God, it got cold,” she said.

“Yeah,” he responded.

“You don’t need to walk me home,” Kate said, though in truth she felt like some company.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I could use the exercise.”

He paused a minute.

“So I hope you had a good time tonight,” he said.

“I did,” she replied. “I really did.”

She opened her mouth to say something more, then shut it. She liked Quinn, but what did she really know of him? It was unwise to say too much. It would raise questions she did not want to answer.

“Good. It’s tough when you join up with a new paper. New editors, new beats. But we’re a nice bunch. At least some of us are, at any rate.”

Kate laughed. “Who isn’t very nice?” she asked.

“You don’t want to hear me gossip, do you?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. “I’m dying for some good gossip.”

“Well, Helen you know about,” he said.

“Rebecca seems kind of controlling too,” Kate said.

“She is that, but she is also good at her job,” he said. “Helen… well… Helen is good at coming up with ideas for other people. And Ethan thinks she just walks on water.”

“Who’s Ethan?” she asked.

“Ethan Holden-the owner of Holden Inc.,” Quinn said and laughed. “You’ll meet him soon enough. He is a piece of work. He pays us shit, then demands at every meeting that we need to work harder-with substandard equipment and crappy benefits.”

“Seems like a great guy,” Kate said.

“He also doesn’t have a backbone,” Quinn continued as they walked. “Last year, I had a great story about Paul Gibson, who is now the chairman of the board of supervisors. I had sources who told me he had taken money from developers on the side, all the while promising that he would stop development in the county. But Ethan wouldn’t let Laurence run it. Or at least that is what Laurence claims…”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Paul and Ethan are friends, of course. Ethan is friends with all the local politicians. Hell, he knows Senators Mark Warner and George Allen personally. He is one of the wealthiest guys in the state and gave pretty decently to their campaigns.”

“And Laurence didn’t stand up to him?”

“One thing I should warn you-in this job, don’t expect much support from Laurence,” he said. “Rebecca will fight for you, but Laurence would lose a boxing match against a one-legged man in a wheelchair. I’ve only seen him angry a few times, and even then, he didn’t do anything about it.”

“My editor at the Gazette was a great guy,” Kate said. “I saw him yell at just about everybody-from advertising guys he felt had crossed the line by approaching reporters, to the publisher for interfering.”

“Well, Laurence isn’t that,” Quinn said.

“Why did you come out here?” she said. “People would kill for a job at the Congressional Quarterly. You didn’t say why you left the other day.”

He paused before launching into the whole sordid story.

“My parents died,” he said. “They had moved down here from Pennsylvania and just loved it. But some drunk guy from Hillsboro hit them one night and they were gone.”

“God, I’m sorry,” Kate said.

“I moved into their house for awhile while I sorted everything out and I suddenly felt I couldn’t go back. I didn’t want to be in D.C. It was too self-involved and politics suddenly lost its appeal. It just didn’t seem to mean that much anymore.”

“I can understand that,” she said.

“So I sold their place and bought an apartment,” he said. “I couldn’t think of where to go and this just seemed right. So I stayed.”

They were approaching the Leesburg Inn.

“That must have been hard,” she said, “to lose both your parents.”

“It’s one of those things that every time I think I’ve moved on, I get pulled back. I’m not sure I’ll ever really move on.”

Kate nodded.

They stopped in front of the hotel.

“Well,” Quinn said self-consciously, and looked down at his shoes. “Here we are.”

Kate stopped and looked at him. “Thanks for walking me home.”

She wanted to say something more-about her own mother maybe-but she couldn’t. She felt overwhelmed by fatigue and didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“Sure,” he said. “I hope you’ll join us again.”

“Anytime,” she said.

And then she did something unexpected for both of them. Without thinking about it, she leaned in and kissed Quinn on the cheek. Startled by her own action, she pulled back a little, so that their faces were only inches apart. It felt like something electrical crackled in the air and she pulled away as suddenly as she had started.

“Thanks again,” she said.

And then she was through the door and out of sight.

Quinn stood outside looking up. He touched his cheek reflexively. Despite the cool October air, he felt warm inside, like he had drunk a gallon of hot coffee.

He walked home in a kind of daze, not really sure what had happened. There had been something, he thought. And whatever it was, it was powerful. Something had seemed to move between them and only time would tell what.

Across the county, Dee glanced at the waving branches around him and pulled his jacket closer to him. This place gave him the creeps. It had been Jacob’s idea, of course, and you couldn’t argue with him about something like this.

He twitched reflexively and rocked back and forth on his heels. It was cold, it was dark and he was tired. He wished again for a cigarette and reached in his jacket pocket out of habit.

But there was nothing there, and if Denise had her way, there would never be cigarettes for Dee again.

“Fuck,” he swore, and nervously watched as the wind blew through the trees again.

He didn’t like it, mostly because the way the branches blew out, it was as if some invisible giant was pushing them aside. It gave him the impression that things were happening all around him and he had no idea what.

“Fuckin-A, Jacob. Where the hell are you?”

As if on cue, he saw headlights appear around the curve on the side of the road. Why they had to come all the way out to Purcellville only God knew. Why they had to come out to the darkest, most isolated place in the goddamn county he was even less sure.

The cops here don’t care, Dee thought. They never have and they never will. Maybe they were dumb to it, or maybe they just didn’t give a damn. What did he care? Either way, there was no damn reason to come out here.

Dee watched as the car slowed down and pulled up next to his. He continued rocking back and forth on his heels.

Jacob practically threw open the door to his old Volkswagen Jetta and stepped out.

That was Jacob, Dee thought. Never does anything half way.

“What’s up, gee?”

It bugged Dee that some skinny white kid would throw around lingo like he was a brother or something, but he was used to it. His friends called Jacob a live wire and though Dee was confident he could kick Jacob’s ass, he also knew any victory would be short-lived. Jacob had friends and given who his father was, the temporary satisfaction of putting him down wouldn’t be worth it.

“Not much,” Dee replied.

Jacob came around the car and pulled a pack of cigarettes out. He held one out.

“Want a smoke?” he asked.

“Shit, man, you know I can’t,” Dee replied.

“Right, right,” Jacob replied. “That bitch Denise got you wound around her little finger, doesn’t she?”

“Don’t call her that, J,” Dee replied.