Archive for the ‘Post 7.4’ Category

Friday, March 30, 10:51 a.m.

I drive straight from my house to downtown Seattle without going to the office. I have two early morning interviews to knock off before the press car is due back at work. Given Jack’s free hand with my number, I turn off my cell phone before leaving the house.

Standing in the overpriced Seattle Center  parking lot after I wrap up the second interview, I turn my cell phone back on. It immediately begins to ring. Startled, I drop it. It bounces alarmingly on the hard pavement, with the sound of an egg cracking. It’s sturdy, however. It continues to ring as I pick it up.

“Hello?” I say.


“Yes, who is this?”

“John Whiteclay. From the Washingtonian. We met last week —”

“Oh sure!” I say. “Hi, how’re you doing?”

“Could you and I have a conversation about Jack O’Lies? In private—not over the phone. It’s urgent.”

I think my heart has stopped. For real. Only a corpse could feel this cold.

“What happened?” I say.

“Where are you at right now?”

“Actually, I’m not that far from you. I’m at Seattle Center. Is he okay?” I say.

“Let’s meet at the 3 Coins. It’s a restaurant about two blocks west of the Washingtonian. It’s—” he says.

“I’ve been there before. Give me ten minutes. Fifteen if the traffic’s bad. Is he hurt or in jail or…” I say.

I shut up. I’ve probably said too much.

“Let’s talk in private,” he says.