Free Indiana Belle (American Journey Book 3) by John A. Heldt Page A

liberty to say."
    "When will she be back?"
    The receptionist returned to her work.
    "I can't tell you."
    Cameron glanced at the nameplate on the desk, noted the name, and considered a different approach. Perhaps he could catch more flies with honey.
    "Look, Mrs. Franklin, I just want to know when Miss Bell will be back. I don't know how long I'll be in Evansville and would like to speak to her about a strictly professional matter."
    Mrs. Franklin, a thin, stern-looking woman of about fifty, lifted her eyes from her work and stared at Cameron as if deciding whether to kill him or grant his wish. She frowned, pushed her chair back, and stood up.
    "Wait here," she said.
    The receptionist turned around and retreated to the middle of the smoky newsroom, where three men talked, laughed, and slapped backs. She approached the nearest of the men, pointed at Cameron, and uttered a few words the visitor could not hear over the clatter of typewriters.
    The man glanced at Cameron, said something to Mrs. Franklin, and nodded a few times when she spoke back. He returned to his friends about the time the receptionist returned to her desk.
    "This is your lucky day," Mrs. Franklin said to Cameron. "Mr. Grant, our managing editor, has agreed to speak to you. He can answer any questions you have about Miss Bell."
    "Should I wait for him here?" Cameron asked.
    "Yes. He'll be with you shortly."
    A few minutes later, Mr. Grant, a boyishly handsome man in his early thirties, escorted the other men to the lobby. He smiled and extended a hand as he approached the visitor.
    "I'm Thad Grant."
    Cameron shook the hand.
    "Cameron Coelho."
    "I'm told you wish to see Candice Bell," Thad said.
    "I do."
    "Are you a friend?"
    "No," Cameron said. "I've never met her."
    "Then what is your business with her?"
    Cameron fidgeted as Thad, the other men, and Mrs. Franklin looked on. He had not expected to answer that question before an audience of four.
    "I'd like to speak with her about the social customs of Indiana," Cameron said. "I understand she's something of an expert on the matter."
    "She is," Thad said. "Candice is our society editor and the author of dozens of articles that have appeared in national journals and magazines."
    "I know. I've read some of them."
    "Are you a writer yourself?"
    "No. I'm a doctoral student," Cameron said. "I came here from Providence, Rhode Island, to gather information for my dissertation."
    "Did you just get into town?"
    Cameron nodded.
    "I arrived yesterday. I stopped here around two but found the place closed. I didn't think newspapers ever closed on weekdays."
    "They normally don't," Thad said. " We normally don't. We closed the office for two hours yesterday so that the staff could attend the funeral of a former publisher."
    "I see," Cameron said. "I'm sorry to hear about your loss."
    "Thank you."
    Cameron saw why Candice had written fondly of Thaddeus Grant in her diary. He was a friendly and sensitive man, the kind of person most people would want as a supervisor.
    Cameron gave Thad and Mrs. Franklin thoughtful glances and then focused on the business at hand. He started to ask again about Candice's whereabouts when the largest man spoke up.
    "Did you say you were from Rhode Island?"
    "I did," Cameron said. "Who are you?"
    "I'm Richard Paine. I'm a partner at the law firm across the street."
    The men shook hands.
    "It's nice to meet you, Richard."
    "The reason I ask about Rhode Island is that I'm from your neck of the woods," Richard said. "I grew up in Brockton, Massachusetts."
    Cameron felt his stomach turn. The last thing he needed was a question about New England. He knew as much about the region in 1925 as he knew about quantum physics.
    "How did you end up in Indiana?" Cameron asked.
    "I attended law school in Bloomington and took a job here shortly after graduation," Richard said. "I've lived in Evansville since 1910."
    Cameron did not like where the conversation was headed. He did not like it at all. So he turned to