Slow Kill - Michael Mcgarrity [133]
“I got home last night, just in time to find a woman named Brenda slipping a note to you in our mailbox.”
“Who?” Johnny asked.
“Brenda,” Madeline repeated, handing Johnny the opened note.
“Did you talk to her?”
“No, she left before I could approach her. But I read her little note. She wants you to call her when you get home because she was worried about you in Santa Fe. Did you really tell her that your father had a stroke?”
“I don’t know what this is all about,” Johnny said, scanning the note, knowing full well that he’d been busted.
Madeline scoffed. “From what Brenda wrote, she appears to be smitten with you, Johnny. Those earrings you gave her made quite an impression.”
“I can explain everything,” Johnny said.
Madeline stepped to his desk and dropped a business card on the table in front of him. “No, you can’t. The movers will be here in the morning to pack up all your personal possessions and get you out of my house. After you check into a hotel for the night, I suggest you start apartment hunting.”
“Can’t we talk this out?”
“We just have,” Madeline said, her hand outstretched. “Give me your house key.”
Johnny smiled sadly, looked crestfallen, spread his arms wide in a gesture of supplication. “Look, sweetie pie, I’m sorry. I screwed up. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t. Pack an overnight bag, leave my house, and don’t speak to me again.”
He dropped the key in Madeline’s hand, and watched as she turned on her heel and left. He checked his wallet for cash, pulled out his last bank statements for his personal accounts, and checked his balances. He could rent a place and get by for a month or two before he would be forced to use his credit cards to cover his business and living expenses.
The thought struck him that maybe Brenda would put him up. She had an extra bedroom he could use as an office. That way he could his cut his overhead in half and save a chunk of money. He worked on a story to tell her as he dialed the phone.
“Hey, sweetie pie,” he said when she picked up, “I got your note.”
The following morning the script Johnny had promised arrived, and Kerney spent his lunch break at his desk, reading it. The story was a good one with some interesting plot twists. The climax to the film occurred during a working cowboy rodeo held at the end of the cattle drive, which turned into a free-for-all after the cops showed up to arrest the rancher and his neighbors for trespassing. Although set in present time, it had the feel of a classic Hollywood western.
He put the screenplay away. Tonight, Sara, his career Army wife, would be flying in with their son, Patrick, for a long weekend break from her current Pentagon assignment, which was scheduled to end at the end of summer. For the past two months, they’d had been debating how to spend the thirty days of leave Sara would take before her next posting. Mostly, she’d talked about just wanting to settle in at their Santa Fe ranch to nest and relax. Would she consider giving up a large portion of her vacation time so that Kerney could work on a movie?
Last night he’d called Dale Jennings to get his take on Johnny’s offer. Dale told him that Barbara and the girls were excited about it, the money was too good to pass up, and it would be fun to see firsthand how movies got made.
Dale’s enthusiasm had made Kerney think more positively about signing on. But in the end, it would be Sara’s decision to make.
The worried-looking patrol commander who knocked on his open office door made Kerney postpone any further thoughts about the movie. He smiled, wrapped up his half-eaten sandwich, dropped it in the wastebasket, and invited the officer to enter.