Free The Writer by D.W. Ulsterman Page B

T.J. Levine. T.J. worked as an investigative reporter in Seattle for nearly thirty years. After retiring from the newspaper business, he accepted a position at the university three years ago to supervise the college newspaper. As the faculty editor, he was tough but fair. His opinions were based on first-hand experience in the business, and that meant a great deal to Adele.
    T.J. told Adele that Decklan Stone’s publicist had called an hour earlier to schedule a follow-up interview with the author next week. Adele, still shaken from the brief encounter with the stranger, failed to immediately respond.
    “Ms. Plank, are you there? I figured you’d be a bit more excited about this. You got a call back from a guy whose last interview took place before you were even born!”
    Adele cleared her throat as Carl continued to look at her like a concerned grandfather.
    “Thanks for the good news, T.J. I have a favor to ask though.”
    “Oh, what is it?” the editor said with cautious curiosity.
    “I want to make a trip to the islands again before I meet with Mr. Stone. There are some parts of the story I want to look into.”
    T.J. knew the sound of a reporter chasing a potential story well enough to realize he could do little to dissuade Adele from proceeding with her plan, regardless of what he said.
    “What story is that?”
    “Decklan Stone, his wife’s death, something happened in those islands, T.J., I can feel it. Something that was left unsaid, covered up, I’m not sure exactly. I just know it.”
    T.J. tried to convey the seriousness of what Adele was investigating.
    “Ms. Plank, Adele, you’re to be conducting an interview, not an investigation . There is a significant difference between those two things.”
    “I’m going where the story is leading me, T.J.”
    Adele was proving the newspaper editor right; she wasn’t going to be dissuaded.
    “When are you leaving?”
    Adele gave Carl a reassuring smile before she continued.
    “First thing tomorrow, I’ll be going to Roche Harbor to speak with a woman there.”
    “So what’s the favor?”
    “I was hoping you could let my professors know that I’ll be away for a few more days on a newspaper assignment.”
    T.J. already suspected that was only part of the favor Adele was requesting.
    “Is that it?”
    “And I’m going to need some money to cover expenses. The ferry ride, food, transportation, the basics.”
    Adele could hear her editor shaking his head over the phone.
    “You know we’re already running this paper on fumes, Adele, and now I’m supposed to explain to the department why I’m sending reporters on multiple paid trips to the San Juan Islands?”
    “Yes.”
    The editor was unable to avoid chuckling. Adele’s enthusiasm, her pursuit of that unknown truth that drove all good reporters, was a reminder of his own idealistic beginnings as a journalist.
    “OK, Adele, I’ll have the funds ready for you to pick up in the office tomorrow morning, so long as you can do me favor as well.”
    “Sure, T.J., what is it?”
    The editor paused for a few seconds. Over the years, he had seen colleagues lose themselves to the pursuit of the unknown only to be devoured by the process, leaving little more than empty shells of their former selves.
    “Be careful.”

8.
    The ferry ride back to the islands via the terminal in Anacortes was a leisurely journey that allowed Adele a second chance to more fully appreciate the stunning beauty of that part of the world. By the time the ferry navigated the access ramp in Friday Harbor, the small urban hub of the San Juan Islands, Adele was only mildly surprised to find herself enjoying a sense of having returned to a place she could easily call home, even though it was only her second time coming to the islands.
    She spent some of the time during the water-born journey reviewing the photographs from the magazine feature on Decklan and Calista Stone that Adele had taken with her following the scare in the basement