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“Grover…?” I felt a sudden coldness settle on my chest – a chill of formless understanding and disbelief.
Nancy’s voice became spiteful with triumph. She thrust an accusing finger into my ribs like she wished it were a knife. “You’re fucking lying!”
I felt the first dark clouds of an unholy rage boiling up within me. A red mist of hatred burned behind my eyes so that when I spoke it took all my willpower to keep the words stilted and restrained.
“Grover saw us?”
“Through the blinds between the booth and the studio when you were airing the sub-club session. He saw you fucking her, Jericho!”
I recalled last night’s program – the frantic rush as I put down the blinds because we were behind schedule. Suddenly I knew.
I went very still. “Nancy, what Grover saw was me on my knees behind April. I had my jeans on. April had her panties on. I pulled her against me and we simulated sex so I could describe the curve of her back and the way her body moved to listeners – to give the session a sense of reality. At no time did I touch April. She had her bra off – her choice – but I didn’t even touch her breasts. What Grover told you is wrong.”
“She’s making a fucking play for you! Can’t you see that?”
I shook my head. “She’s not,” I said emphatically. I could have told Nancy then that April was gay – I could have… but I wouldn’t betray April’s secret or her trust. “We are nothing more than friends. Nothing more.”
Nancy’s expression became wrenched with fresh torment. She was leaning towards me, but doubts held her back. “You have to trust me,” I said again gently.
Long seconds of agonized silence followed. Nancy stared into my eyes, looking for any sign of betrayal. Finally she sighed, and all the tension seemed to drain away from her body so that she went limp. Her features softened, but there was still a hot flush of temper on her cheeks.
“Swear it to me,” she insisted. “Swear that you didn’t fuck April, and that there is absolutely nothing going on between you two.”
I stepped closer. I took her hand gently in mine and placed it over my heart. I looked into her eyes. “I swear it,” I said.
Nancy blinked, then nodded slowly. She let out a long weary breath. “Okay… I believe you.”
“Trust,” I said yet again. “Everything between us hinges on trust.”
Nancy looked up with a flicker of a defiant challenge. “Does that work both ways, Jericho? Do you need to trust me as completely as you are asking me to trust you?”
I thought about that seriously for a long time.
“Yes,” I admitted.
We lapsed into another long silence. There was still tension in the air, but it was dissipating like dark clouds clearing from a sky. Nancy kept pacing the room restlessly. But the agitation had gone from her.
“Where is Cecily?” I asked at last.
Nancy glanced at me in surprise at the sudden change of subject. “She arrived back this morning.”
“Back? Has she been on holiday?”
“No. Her mother passed away. She got the call last week here at work… it might even have been during your first program.”
I thought back. I remembered Cecily on the phone, the secrecy and the expression on her face. At the time I had thought it proof that she had been Sondra. Now that phone call made sense.
“Get her in here,” I decided. “I need her to produce the program tonight.”
Nancy looked perplexed. She started to shake her head. “But Grover is slated to your show…”
She saw the blaze of fury in my eyes and her voice faltered.
“Grover won’t be able to work tonight…” I said. “Not when I am finished with him.”
Chapter 29.
I arrived at work early and prowled the halls of the radio station, still simmering with anger. April arrived and saw the dark look on my face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said. This was between Grover and me.
“Has it got something to do with this morning’s meeting? The dragon was pretty pissed. Did she say something to you?”
I shook my head. “Only that she was happy with the way the program was going,” I told the little lie, and then changed the subject. “Did you see Cecily in the parking garage?”
April shook her head. “No. Should I have?”
I frowned. “She’s producing the program for us tonight. I thought she might come in early… try to get up to speed with what we’re doing with the different segments.”
April looked surprised. “Really? I didn’t get the memo. I thought Grover was – ”
At that exact moment, Grover appeared in the foyer. He had a hippie bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a ‘Bon Jovi’ tour t-shirt and faded jeans with sandals on his feet. He saw April and me standing together, and his face broke into an artificial, insincere smile.
“Hiya, guys,” he said in an artificial, insincere attempt at friendliness. I glared at him and he turned his attention to April. “How was the meeting with the evil one this morning?”
April shrugged. “Same old, same old,” she said.
Grover nodded like he wasn’t listening. We headed down the hallway and Grover went straight into the producer’s booth.
I led April into the studio and carefully lowered the blinds. She gave me a puzzled, curious look.
She dropped down into her chair, threw her handbag on the floor. I leaned over the desk and pushed my face close to hers.
“I want you to call 911 on your cell phone,” I said in a slow calm voice. “I want you to get paramedics here to the radio station.”
April’s eyes went wide and filled with alarm. “What? Why?”
“Tell them we have a man here with severe abdominal pain. He will need to go to the hospital.”
April stared at me like I was crazy. “When did this happen?” she asked.
“In about five minutes from now,” I said pointedly.
She shook her head, utterly confused. “Jericho, I don’t –”
“Just do it,” I said, and then walked out of the studio, pulling the door closed behind me.
I pushed the door open to the producer’s booth and stood for a long menacing moment on the threshold. Grover saw me. He was sitting at his desk with his feet up, ankles crossed, on the tabletop. His face went pale. He swung his legs to the ground and his body seemed to shrink within the chair. I stepped wordlessly into the room and glared at him.
Grover got unsteadily to his feet. I could see ghastly fear in his face. His eyes were enormous and there was a twist of panic across his lips. He held up his hands.
“Whoa,” he said. “What… what’s up, man?”
I crossed the room slowly. Grover edged away until he was up against the desk with nowhere else to move. He was shaking like a man in the grips of a fever. I clenched my fists and the knuckles cracked.
“Do you remember what I told you last time you looked through the window into the studio while April and I were recording a sub-club segment?” My voice was low and filled with menace. I took a step closer to Grover. I wanted him to see the intent in my eyes.
He bobbed his head pathetically and licked his lips. His eyes darted around the room looking for an escape that didn’t exist. I saw him steal a glance at the phone, but he realized there was no way he could make a call in time.
“I… I remember, man!” he said. He tried to make his voice sound confused and bewildered. All I heard was guilty fear.
“Well you got your only warning,” I said. “Now I’m here to fulfill that promise.”
Grover bumped against a pile of folders and they clattered to the floor. He was sweating. I could hear his breath – short sharp gasps of air.
“I found out what you did,” I said.
Grover started to babble a denial. I slapped him open-handed across the face. The blow wrenched his head to the side, and the crack of sound was like a gunshot. Grover’s eyes filled with stinging tears.
He held his hand to his cheek as if to reassure himself that his face was still intact.
“Shut up, and listen,” I said in a cold, dead-voiced threat. “I said last time that if you did it again I would gut you – take a knife and slit your deviant body from your chest to your abdomen – rip you open like a fish so that your entrails spilled out on the floor. Remember that?”
