Page 68 of Head Room
Back in Tom’s truck and with Yvette waving us off cheerily, while Hiram was already nowhere in sight, I puffed out a breath.“That man is exhausting.I’d rather interview most politicians than him.”
“Most?”
“Yeah.There are others I wouldn’t want to be in the same county with, much less interview them.So, yeah, I’d take Hiram over them.But it’s such a low bar it’s basically slithering across the dirt.”
He chuckled.
Then he cut me a look.“Why’d you ask him about where the vets might be?”
“You mean because you probably have a good idea where they are, so why not just ask you?Because I wanted to hear what he said.”
“Not much.”
“No.Not much.So, where are they?”
“Near the Circle B.I’ll take you out there tomorrow morning with Shadow.Should give me time to connect with them.Still, no guarantee they’ll meet you, much less answer your questions.”
“Maybe they’ll talk to Shadow,” I half-heartedly grumbled.
****
Tom dropped meoff in the station’s parking lot.
I went inside for a pit stop and to check in with Audrey.
“Oh, Elizabeth.I wanted to ask you.What do you think?Put this Congress story at the top of B Block or toward the end of A Block.It is a big story, but you know some of the repeat complainers want to pretend there’s nothing outside the borders of Cottonwood County, so they’ll be on the phone screaming about it.But the top of the B Block...how many people miss that?This isn’t a story they should miss, whether the complainers recognize it or not.You’re right, it needs to go in A Block.”
“Happy to help.”
No sarcasm there, because it did help her to have a sounding board.Soon she wouldn’t need to say it aloud.
I made a phone call, received the okay to visit I’d requested, grabbed a package of cookies from my desk, and hit the road again, heading north toward the other town in Cottonwood County, O’Hara Hill.
It’s the home of the sheriff’s department’s substation, one of the county’s best restaurants, and two of its strongest personalities — Mike’s Aunt Gee and Emmaline Parens.
As fate would have it, they lived next door to each other.
Or maybe living next door to each other contributed to those strong personalities.Like a carbon steel blade continuously whetted against a stone.
Which of them was blade and which stone I couldn’t begin to guess.Maybe they traded off.
On the way, I called the group to share my conversations and frustration.Voice only, since I was driving.
I shared the non-answers from Ned Irvin and minimal encounters with Kam Droemi and Miles Stevens.
“I know Kam.When I was a kid—” I wished Jennifer wouldn’t do that.She was still a kid to me.“—she was an instructor at the first computer program I took.Pretty sure it was a junior college project for her.”
“She’s a computer whiz?”I asked.
“Not unless you consider teaching basics to little kids a whiz.I never considered it before, but she was more interested in another instructor than the kids.”
Mike asked, “How long did it take you to know more than she did?”
She tipped her head.“Mmm.Two, maybe three weeks.That’s why Mom and Dad gave me my first computer.What else, Elizabeth?”
I skipped the Haber House lunch, figuring Mike would tell them what he wanted them to know about discussions with Orson Jardine, and my personal conversations with Mom and Tom.
That brought us to Hiram.
