“And you didn’t call us first? Fuck, Zack, what’s with you?”

“I just got back, Dick. It’s been kind of a long night.” I glanced into the bathroom, saw steam escaping from around the shower curtain.

“Okay, look, the radio, other papers, all they can get is the basics. We need the good shit, the color, from you. So how did you track her down, this Chicoine chick? That her real name? Because she was going by Snelling, right? Let me check these spellings with you.”

“Dick, I got nothing to say. I’m gonna have a shower. The water’s running.”

“Zack, hello? This is your paper calling. I know you probably think you should write this one up yourself, but you ask me, you’re too close, you’ve got a conflict, just like with those other big pieces you did, but fuck, that was okay with them then, but this time, I don’t think so. So you’re going to have to tell me what you’ve got, I’ll write it up, but you’ll look good just the same.”

I thought I caught a whiff of him over the phone.

“No comment, Dick,” I said. “I’m on suspension.” I hung up.

I was almost back to the bathroom when the phone rang again. I picked up. “Dick, I mean it, I have nothing to say.”

“Zack.” It was Sarah.

“Oh,” I said. “I just finished hanging up on Cheese Dick. I thought it was him.”

“It’s all over the newsroom, the thing about you and Trixie,” Sarah said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

“What happened?”

“I found Trixie. Police were following me. They raided the place in the night, took her away.”

“She did it? She killed that man? The reporter?”

“No,” I said, thinking, not that man. “The cops’ll probably figure that out eventually.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Trixie said she was going to tell them that I went up there to tell her to turn herself in, and that’s the spin I just heard on the radio. I guess we’ll see.”

“Do you want me to come home?”

I shook my head, then realized that Sarah couldn’t see me. “It’s okay. I’m going to shower, maybe go to bed. How’s everything here? Kids okay?”

“They’re fine. Worried about you.”

“And you? How are you doing?” What I really was asking was how we were doing.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m…I can’t stand it here. Working with Frieda. Every day, it’s like we’re planning a church supper instead of a newspaper. I can’t swear here. It’s driving me fucking crazy.”

I let out a small laugh. I couldn’t recall when I’d last done that.

“Is it over, Zack?” Sarah asked.