Page 49 of An Unfinished Story
“Not bad with the windows down. And I bring a cooler with drinks.” He pulled back the screen door. “Let’s head inside. We don’t want to give away our position.”
Following him, she asked, “Did you find the perp?”
“Not even close. I’m beginning to think that whoever it is has a military background.”
“They’re that stealthy, are they?”
“Incredibly so.”
They sat at the table in Whitaker’s dining room. Knowing her way around by now, she asked if he wanted something to drink on the way to the kitchen. She did a double take when she noticed a bowl of lime and lemon wedges resting on the counter near the fridge, just like she’d told him David used to do. One wedge of each in his ice water.
When she returned to the table, she asked, “What’s with the lemons and limes?”
“I figured you’d notice,” he said, taking his first bite of pizza. “God, that’s good.” He finished chewing. “Just trying to get into his head, you know. I keep feeling like I’m missing something. The writing is going really well, but I’m only working with what he’s already written. What I’m nervous about is the actual last part of the book. I want to know where he was going.” He laid his slice down. “What his thought process was. I feel like he knew how it was going to end, whether he’d written it out or not. Does Kevin save Orlando from getting into deeper trouble, or is it more tragic? Does one of them die?”
Claire frowned. “No, I don’t think anyone dies.”
“Me, either, but it’s important to stay true to the story, not necessarily to make it a happily ever after just because.”
“David was a happily ever after kind of guy.”Even though his life didn’t go that way,Claire added to herself.
Whitaker picked up his slice. “That’s good to know. I’ll tell you, he definitely knew a lot about the foster care system. Any idea where that came from?”
Claire shook her head. “I wouldn’t put it past him to have done a lot of research. Like I said, when he got into something, he fully committed himself.” She reached for her first slice and fought to keep the cheese from sliding off the end.
“I’ve been doing some research myself. Read everything I can get my hands on. And I’ve connected with a few people involved with the system here, so I’m getting a better feel for what this world is like. I’ve also reached out to the lead agency for child welfare in Sarasota, who is contracted by the state to run the foster system down there. They manage the case managers, track the kids, all that. If they’ll talk to me, it will bring a much more truthful feel to the story.”
“Look at you, Sherlock. I’m actually impressed.”
“Well, I was in journalism before I tried my hand at a novel.”
Claire folded her slice. “I guess I knew that. It’s just that sometimes I underestimate you.”
With a mouthful, Whitaker said, “That’s very easy to do.”
“You went to Emory, right?” As he nodded, she asked, “An English major?”
Another nod, still chewing. With crumbs spilling out, he said, “A triple major in French, Spanish, and English.”
“Impressive! How about grad school?” She finally dug in, noticing how perfect the sauce was, not too rich with a nice zing.
With a final swallow, he answered, “A one-way ticket to Europe was my grad school. I sold just enough of my work to newspapers and magazines to keep me afloat.”
“What kind of stuff were you writing?”
“It was mostly travel pieces. I wrote for my high school and college newspapers and built my portfolio from there. Back then, it was so much easier to make money freelancing. So mostly travel, but they’d accept almost anything I proposed.”
“AndNapalm Treeswas your first dive into fiction?”
“No, I wrote a collection of short stories in college.”
“Why don’t you publish it?”
“It was absolute trash. And long gone by now.”
She wiped pizza sauce from her lip. “We really do need to talk about this dog poop thing, the investigation. It’s not normal. You know that, right? You’re staking out your neighbors.”
“It’s my civildoody.”
