Killing Me Softly (#Wattys2016)

FIFTY-NINE

FIFTY-NINE

When the shit hit the fan, no one could escape the splatter. Cicely had called Sondra that morning to let her know that Rick Jones, investigative reporter for Channel Four, was running with the story about Carol and Tracy on that night's ten P.M. news. Carol's family had hired an attorney who would be speaking on their behalf in the piece and confirming they would be bringing suit against the police department. The jungle drums said they'd been in contact with the rabble-rousing community activist, Joe Johnson. Cicely warned her it wouldn't be long before the national media picked up the thread and the whole thing would become a powder keg. Sondra thanked Cicely and determined she would lay low for a while and hope Nicky found Phillip first.

It was dusk and she had drawn all of her drapes, shrouding her apartment in darkness. She'd been chain-smoking for hours as she rambled aimlessly from room to room, the low hum of the TV droning in the background. Sondra had just stubbed out what was probably her millionth cigarette of the day and was about to light up another when her cell phone rang.

"This better not be fucking CNN," she mumbled as she looked at the caller ID. The number was blocked and she was about to let it keep ringing when it occurred to her it might be Nicky.

"Hello?" she said.

"Yooooo. What's up?"

Sondra wanted to kiss herself for answering the phone. "Nicky." Sondra swallowed then took a deep breath. "So? What'd you find out?"

"He's going by the name of Pierce now. Phillip Pierce. Married to a lady named Paula."

"Are you sure it's him?"

"Oh, yeah. It was a little tricky, but I am fo' sho', baby."

"Where is he?"

"Livin' in St. Louis. He works for a clinic as a pharmacist. Wife stays home. No kids. Shitload of cash in the bank."

"Do you have an address? A phone number?"

"You know it, baby. You got a pen?"

Sondra fumbled in the darkened apartment in search of a pen and paper. "Okay, shoot."

Nicky gave Sondra all of Phillip's information, including his unlisted phone number, work and home addresses and work schedule.

"Goddamn, you are good," Sondra said, shaking her head.

"You know how I do."

"Next time you're in New York, let me buy you a drink."

"Yeah, man, I would be down. I'll hit you when I'm in town. Bring G, too."

"Oh, the stories that would come out of that night. Listen, Nicky, I gotta go, but definitely, call me when you're in town."

"You got it baby. Tell G I can't wait 'til Caaaabo!"

The phone went dead and Sondra could only laugh at Nicky. She looked down at the piece of paper in her hand, feeling triumphant. She'd come this far; she just had to go a little further.

Sondra shook herself back to the business at hand. "All right, flight to St. Louis," she said as she pulled up the American Airlines website on her laptop. Her phone rang again and groaning, she answered without looking to see who it was.

"Yeah?" she said, annoyed.

"Sondra? It's Kevin. Henderson."

"Oh, hi. I'm sorry. You caught me at a weird time. I'm on my way to St. Louis."

"St. Louis?"

Sondra put the phone on speaker so she could tap out flight information. "My ex-husband, Gary, is, strangely enough, friends with a bounty hunter. Nicky. Anyway, I asked Nicky to find Phillip and he did and I'm on my way there now."

"Wow. It's really him? I mean, he couldn't have made a mistake?"

"Nicky doesn't make mistakes."

"I want to be there."

"What?"

"I want to know why he did this, why-"

"No, no way. This is between me and him."

"I'm in this too. I can meet you in St. Louis, probably make it there before you."

Sondra snorted. "Considering I'll likely be going out of LaGuardia, you're probably right."

"I'll book the flight now. I could even drive down."

"Kevin, I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to stay out of this."

"I'm just as involved as you are. More."

Sondra kneaded the skin of her forehead like it was pizza dough before she looked up and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Kevin. I have to do this alone."

Before he could say another word, Sondra hung up.