Fiction
When Toxic Rivers Flow Part 2
A Sunny Alexander-Johnson and Henry James Series By P.G. & Sharon Barnett
My name is Sunny Alexander-Johnson, and I’m Henry James, and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth Magazine.
Here’s a riddle for you readers. What do you get when you pair up two teams of writers on a single article, and both teams have their minds set on how to investigate, corroborate, and write the story?
If you’re thinking chaos, you’d be right.
“I said no, Henry, and that’s final.”
“Who the hell died and left you judge and jury Rice? Unless I miss my guess, this is still a democracy. I say we put the idea to a vote.”
“That’s not going to happen, Henry. You and Sunny don’t have a say in this. This story belongs to Robert and me. We’re calling the shots on this. Roberto and I have been chasing this story down for weeks, and just when we get a solid lead…”
“Somebody kills him, and you two lunkheads end up contaminating a crime scene. Did you even bother to get the local authorities involved, or does one of you have the man’s body in the trunk of your car?”
“Don’t be ridiculous James, of course, we got the police involved. We led them to the body, they peppered us with questions, then let us go.”
“Roberto, please tell us neither of you mentioned what you were working on.”
“We didn’t Sunny, but what difference would it have made?”
“Because the cops would have immediately started sniffing around your precious textile plant, which would have effectively put your story on ice. Did this man have any identification on him?”
“No. We checked.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake Rice. You went through the dude’s pockets?”
“I tried to tell him that it wasn’t a good idea.”
“Thanks for all the support, partner. Yes, James, I went through his pockets. We needed to make sure it was the person we were supposed to meet.”
“Hang on Tim. Couldn’t you just identify the man by his face?”
“Uh, no, I’m afraid Roberto and I have never met the man Sunny. All of our correspondence has been through telephone.”
“So let me get this straight. You get an inside tip from an unknown source about a textile plant pouring unknown shit into the Colorado River, and you don’t know whether this dead guy is that unknown source or not? Does that pretty much sum it up, Tim?”
“Well, when you say it that way, Henry, it does sound like we don’t have very much to go on, but if the guy was our source, then someone either killed him or had him killed to keep him from talking.”
When Tim and Roberto started nodding their heads, we realized both of them were going to require a little more head-bashing before we were going to make any traction on this.
“Pardon me, Tim, but from where Henry and I sit, I’d say you and Roberto have a whole lot of nothing. Nada. Zip. You can’t just connect those two dots without having proof. People kill other people for a lot of reasons.”
“Maybe so, Sunny, but we found this guy very close to where we were supposed to meet, so we just assumed…”
“Tim, come on. Both you and Roberto know better than that. We can’t assume anything in this business.”
We could tell we were wearing them down. Although Tim and Roberto had been offering firm resistance, it was easy to see expressions of self-doubt creeping across their faces. The way both men stared at the floor, the chairs, their laptops, anywhere but at us, clearly demonstrated how compelling logic can sometimes be when wielded by someone who knew how to present it.
When Tim broke first we knew Roberto would follow.
“Okay, okay. You’re right Sunny. It looks like Roberto and I are right back to square one. But we don’t need Henry rushing in with his gun drawn shooting up the place.”
“Point taken. We can always make him go sit in the corner while the grownups are talking.”
“Bite my ass, Johnson.”
“So, where do we go from here?”
“Well, first we ID this guy. Did either of you think to take photographs, Tim?”
Tim turned his head aside and shrugged at the same time offering us a sheepish look which told us the man hadn’t thought it necessary.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Excellent, Roberto. I think Henry and I are going to keep you around for a while.”
“You realize the police are going to be trying to do the exact same thing, don’t you Sunny?”
“Yes Tim, they will be, but they don’t have the inside track to the super-spy twins. We’re going to have to move fast, but I think we might be able to stay one or two steps ahead of them.”
“One car or two?”
“What that’s James?”
“Tim. We’re going to pay a visit to the offices of Sunny’s husband and Manny Hermanos, where the spy-twins do their magic. It’s about twenty minutes from Dark Sides by car. Do we take one car or two?”
“Two preferably. Not that I don’t love your superlative social graces and roguish charm, I’d prefer to ride with my partner if you don’t mind.”
“Suit yourself. Come on Johnson, let’s saddle up.”
We stood and returned to our desks then began shutting down and packing up.
“You can’t tell me you missed that old man.”
“Naw, I didn’t miss it, my Nubian queen. I’ll let Rice think his superlative attempt to poke this bear with his elocution stick went way over my head. You know what they say.”
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”
“Uh, no. I was thinking of the one about keeping your mouth shut and letting him think I was an idiot rather than opening my mouth and removing all doubt.”
“Oh, that one. Interesting choice, since that’s never stopped you before.”
“Bite me, Johnson. You coming?”
Read On — When Toxic Rivers Flow Part 3
Let’s keep in touch: P.G. & Sharon Barnett ([email protected]) © P.G. Barnett, 2020. All Rights Reserved.