Paula ambled into the kitchen and plugged in the coffee maker. A glance at the clock told her she could make it to church, but did she want to?
She pulled her silky robe around her and eased onto a barstool to await the aroma of her favorite Starbucks Breakfast Blend coffee. One of these days, if she could get David hooked on espresso, maybe he wouldn’t balk at the price of a commercial espresso machine.
A slip of paper on the counter caught her eye, and she reached for it. David’s neat script slanted across the paper.
Paula, sorry for my reluctance re: the testing. Wanted you to know I did make an appointment. Love you. David.
A smile pulled her lips upward. Well, that was a nice surprise in the morning. Sundays with a real estate agent husband meant a day alone while he shuffled from one open house to another. He would at least get home in time for dinner, and at the moment, some warm place in her heart wanted to fix him something special.
The phone rang, and she picked it up off the battery base. “Hello.” Still possessing her morning voice, she cleared her throat.
“Hey, it’s Natalie.”
“Good morning. Did you get my message yesterday?”
“I did. Thanks, that’s why I was calling. I’ve never done an interview. Should I do something to prepare?”
“No, relax. Russ is a real pro. The interview will last about five or ten minutes, but the clip they’ll show will be very short. Don’t worry if you mess up or have a memory lapse or something. They’ll pick something clean for the clip.”
“And it will air tomorrow?”
“Yes, in the evening. Russ will put you at ease and tell you what to expect, but don’t be caught off-guard if he asks you some sticky questions.”
“Sticky questions? Like what?”
The coffee stopped dripping, and Paula slipped her favorite coffee cup from the cupboard and poured the dark, rich brew.
“Well, if I were doing the interview, I’d probably ask something like, ‘Doesn’t the anti-abortion stance taken by the Hope Center encourage violence on abortion providers like the Women’s Health Clinic?’” She took a sip of the coffee, her taste buds instantly awakened. “Nat?”
“I just thought—well, I guess I thought he’d go easy on me since I’m your sis.” Her chuckle sounded wry.
“In a perfect world, he would. But this is the news, and they’re not going to air a boring, pat-on-the-back interview. It could be tense for you at moments, but you can handle it.”
“I’d feel a lot better if it were you.”
Paula gave a sharp laugh. “Oh no, you wouldn’t. I’d have to be my usual barracuda self, and you’d get all angry with me for it. No thanks. I don’t interview family.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“You might be interested to know that we did get some unhappy phone calls and e-mails about our coverage of the Health Center, though. One of the first ones was Gram.”
Natalie laughed. “Good for Gram.”
“How’s she doing these days? The Alzheimer’s—does the medication seem to be slowing it properly?”
“It really has. Thank God for meds. And, Paula, really, you could just pick up the phone and call.” Her voice softened the words. “Or go see her at the lodge. She and Hanna aren’t so busy they couldn’t stop and have lunch with you or something.”
Nat was right, she knew. She was so bad about staying in touch with people. She even had trouble staying in touch with her own husband, and he lived with her. “You’re right. Maybe I’ll pop in at church today.” If she hurried, she could be presentable in an hour. She could see her whole family in one shot; how was that for efficient?
“That would be nice. Just no matchmaking, OK?”
“You didn’t like Kyle?”
“I didn’t like being set up for the slaughter.”
Paula laughed. “It was hardly that. Just a friendly dinner. So does that mean he hasn’t called?”
“Paula …”
“All right, all right. If you don’t recognize a catch when you see it, I can’t help you.”
“I don’t want a catch right now, good or otherwise. Why is it so hard for you married people to understand that? And for your information, Kyle isn’t looking to make a catch anytime soon either. He told me so rather explicitly.”
“Ahhhh, that’s what I interrupted in the dining room that night. He’s got your hackles up.”
“I don’t have hackles—whatever they are. And in case you didn’t know, you can’t know if someone’s a good catch in one meeting.”
Paula knew Natalie was referring to Keith. Who knew when they’d gotten married that he would cheat on her and conduct his bank business so unethically? He was lucky to get off with only eight months in the pen after trying to sabotage Gram’s lodge. It was only because of Hanna’s mercy on Keith and Natalie’s boys that he got off so easily.
Paula heard Taylor squeal through the phone line. “Listen, I’d better go if I’m going to make it in time for church.”
“You? We’re all still in our pjs.” Natalie’s voice grew muffled, as if she held a hand over the receiver. “No, Taylor, don’t put the Cheerios in your hair!”
Paula smothered a laugh that somehow turned to a groan. She looked around her pristine kitchen and longed for a little pajama-clad boy or girl slurping up a bowl of cereal. Her eyes started to sting.
She cleared her throat and turned on her TV voice. “Well, it sounds like you need off even more than I do, so I’ll see you at church.”
She placed the phone back in its cradle, her heart clenching as she looked back at the empty kitchen.
“So, how did the interview go?” Hanna asked.
Hanna and Micah, Gram, her mom and dad all sat around the TV set in her living room waiting for the news to begin.
“I think it went OK. Mostly he asked good questions, and I think I handled it all right. He did ask a couple sticky questions, but Paula told me to expect that.” Natalie glanced at the clock on the wall. Four minutes and she would be on TV. It was enough to make her as nervous as she’d been at the interview.
“Have they found out anything more about the bomber?” Gram asked.
“I don’t think so,” Natalie’s mom said. “And what with all the people coming and going through town, I’ll be surprised if they do.”
“How much time are they going to give the interview on the news, Natalie?” Micah leaned back and put his arm across the back of the sofa behind Hanna.
“Paula didn’t say for sure.”
“Don’t be surprised if it’s short.” Her dad crossed his shoes, a burgundy pair of wingtips that he thought went with anything he wore. “They like to keep things brief.”
“They sure didn’t keep that Barbara Franklin brief,” Gram said.
“Guess you have to be a big name to get that much time,” Micah said.
“I’m sure they’ll be fair to Natalie,” her mom said. “She’s a hometown girl, after all. That should count for something.”
Alex plopped on her dad’s lap. “I’m hungry, Mom.”
“We’ll eat after the news, honey. Remember, Mommy’s going to be on TV tonight.”
“Shh-shh-shh, it’s coming on.” Her dad picked up the remote and jacked up the volume.
“—and I’m Paula Landin-Cohen.”
Everyone grew quiet while Paula covered three different local stories. Natalie felt her heart thumping in her chest. Her mouth grew so dry she nearly got up for a drink but didn’t want to take the chance of missing it.
“In other news tonight,” Russ began, “the person responsible for the bombing of the Women’s Health Clinic still remains at large. Police are asking that anyone with information on the crime contact them directly. The bombing of the clinic has stirred up local controversy about abortion. Earlier today, Natalie Coombs, director for the Jackson Hole Hope Center, had this to say.”
The screen switched to a picture of Natalie behind her desk at the center. “Our goal is to help the young women who come through our doors. We try to educate them about the facts of pregnancy and abortion.”
Russ’s voice sounded, though the screen continued to show Natalie. “Does that education include telling them that an abortion takes a life?”
“Well, yes—”
“Does the center take an anti-abortion stance?”
He skipped her whole answer! She’d given a long, detailed—
“Yes, we are against abortion.”
Fire burned in Natalie’s gut. “He skipped the whole—”
“Do you feel that anti-abortion groups such as the Hope Center play a part in creating the political climate that feeds violence on abortion clinics?”
“Of course we’re against all violence. We view the taking of a baby’s life as tragic as any person’s life.”
The screen changed to Russ behind his desk. “The bombing of the Women’s Health Clinic has temporarily closed the clinic, but they hope to be up and running within a month.”
Natalie could hardly see straight for the emotions whirling in her. “I cant believe it.” She stood up and paced across the room.
“What’s wrong, Nat?” Hanna asked.
“Those answers didn’t sound anything like what I said. He took bits and pieces of it and—I qualified those answers. Like the one on whether we were anti-abortion or not. My answer focused on the women, our clients. I talked for a good two minutes about how the women are our main concern, and how we’re trying to do what’s in their best interest, and he took it all and boiled it down to ‘Yes, we’re against abortion.’”
Her hands shook as she smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “I wish I’d never had the interview. It’s done nothing for our cause.”
“Now, honey,”—her mom stood up and put her arm around her—“the start of it sounded positive.”
“How could Paula have let this happen?” Nat asked.
The room grew silent. Her dad crossed his legs. Natalie didn’t know how much say Paula had in the editing of these tapes, but surely she could have done something. If she cared nothing for the pro-life cause, she should have at least cared enough for her own sister to step in and do something.
Natalie was still mulling over the broadcast interview on the way to work the next morning. Her family’s presence had been comforting the night before, and she thought perhaps she’d overreacted to the coverage. They had played that bit at the beginning about helping clients and giving them information. And people were smarter than they were sometimes given credit for. Some would see through the editing and know there’d been more to her answers.
She turned off the ignition and grabbed her purse, finding the center’s key on her key ring. She stepped outside and breathed deeply of mountain air and the refreshing scent of spruce trees. This was still Jackson Hole, the hometown she loved with the views no other place could compete with.
She rounded the corner onto the sidewalk. Maybe she’d hear from Linn today. She’d behaved strangely on Saturday when she’d come to Natalie’s house. She suspected she might have felt overwhelmed by the size of the house and the grandeur of the neighborhood. It hadn’t taken long for the boys to warm up to her, though, and things had seemed OK after that.
In front of the center, a flash of red on the light brick caught her eye, and she turned. Oh no. She froze in place, her eyes skimming the words that seemed more gruesome because of their blood-red color.
Go away liars.
Who had done this? It was that news interview that had ticked someone off. She had to get the spray paint off the brick. She took another few steps before her shoes crunched on something. She looked down. Eggshell pieces lay scattered across the concrete as if a massive hatching had just occurred. Her gaze skimmed up the brick wall of the center, following the clear line of lacquered liquid.
Only then did she see the mess on the picture window. Tiny fragments of shell were set in the hardened splats of liquid. What a mess. It looked like the work of teenagers. She sighed as she unlocked the front door. It would take all day to clean it up, and that was assuming she’d be able to remove the spray paint from the brick. She turned the key with more force than necessary and jerked it from the keyhole. A whole day lost because some stupid—
“Wow, what a mess.” A voice from behind made her jump.
She turned. It took a moment to place him. Kyle. He looked different than he had at Paula’s that night. More professional. Cuter somehow. She turned and pulled open the door, disliking her train of thought.
Her heart still raced from the scare he’d given her. She wasn’t sure what bugged her most. His sneaking up on her or his inane comment about the graffiti. “Just what I needed today.”
He followed her inside as she dumped her purse on top of the filing cabinet. “I saw the interview last night.”
“Some interview. Score one point for pro-abortion people everywhere.” She glanced pointedly to the blurry front window. “Make that two points.” She turned and perched on her desk. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, looking boyishly charming.
She crossed her arms. He wasn’t boyish. More like boorish.
“I guess I thought you might need a little encouragement.”
Oh, really? What happened to that gigantic wall you had so firmly in place at Paula’s? She cocked her head, in no mood to make things easy on him.
“I know how the media can creatively distort things. I’m sure your real answers were much better than the ones they aired.”
So she’d come across as a dunce on TV? “Thanks a lot.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his suit coat flapping out and around them. “Hey, I’m on your side.”
The phone rang, saving her from responding. She hesitated before picking it up. What if it was the person who’d vandalized the center? What if they started getting ugly phone calls?
So what? Some jerks weren’t going to stop her from helping these girls. Defiantly, she picked up the receiver. “Hope Center, Miss C speaking.”
It was a young, pregnant girl they’d been working with for several months. Since she wanted to talk to a particular volunteer, Natalie looked at the schedule and told her when she’d be working.
When she was finished, she hung up the phone. Kyle was still standing around. She noticed the briefcase in his hand. “Can I help you with something?”
The center’s door opened, and Natalie leaned around to see who’d come in.
“Linn!”
“Hi, Miss C—I mean Natalie.” Linn looked awkwardly at Kyle’s back, then at her again.
Just then Kyle turned to face Linn, and Natalie couldn’t miss the change in expressions on Linn’s face. The smile fell from her face. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, her lips going taut. She darted another look at Natalie. “Did you call him?” It was an accusation as much as a question.
“Call who?” Natalie looked at Kyle, then to Linn.
“Hello, Linn,” Kyle said.
Linn’s eyes narrowed farther. She crossed her arms over her chest protectively. “What’s he doing here? I thought you said everything was confidential.”
Natalie felt Linn’s trust slipping away and was desperate to save it. “It is. I didn’t call him, Linn.”
“She didn’t call. I just stopped by,” Kyle said.
“I take it you two know each other.” Natalie moved closer to Linn, but she took a step back.
“I was married to her sister.”
Oh, my. Married, past tense. Probably a divorce situation. Obviously there was bad blood between the two of them. Natalie had thought Linn was an only child.
“If you didn’t ask him here, what’s he doing?”
“I didn’t even know the two of you knew each other,” Natalie said.
“Natalie and I know each other, Linn. That’s the only reason I’m here.” Kyle rubbed a hand across his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
His softened tone did nothing to alter Linn’s demeanor. Natalie needed to get him out of here before she lost all the ground she’d made with Linn.
“How’s the family?” he asked.
“None of your business.”
Natalie spoke. “Kyle, why don’t you—”
“Why should you care anyway? It’s all your fault,” Linn said.
Natalie glanced at Kyle. His gaze fell to the floor.
“I wish you’d just leave us alone. You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to us!”
“Linn, you know I didn’t—”
“Just go away!” Linn started for the door.
“Wait, Linn.” Natalie rushed ahead of her and stopped her with a hand on the arm.
“I’m sorry.” Worry lines creased Kyle’s forehead, and his eyes drooped at the corners like a sad puppy. “I loved your sister.”
“You killed her!” The words shot from Linn’s mouth like an arrow, and judging by the look on Kyle’s face, they’d made their mark.