When Never Comes

by Barbara Davis

the good they’ve done me. So what I need you to do right now is put me on hold and go find him. Don’t come back and tell me he’s in an interview or out on a case. I’m a case. My dead husband is a case. So unless you want me to come down there and camp out in the lobby, you’ll put him on the phone.” There was no response, just a curt click followed by empty silence as she was put on hold. While she waited, she picked up her water bottle and pressed it to her cheek, then her neck, wondering what excuse she’d be given this time. She nearly dropped the phone when Connelly’s voice came over the line. “Christine, I’m sorry. I’ve been swamped. As I’m sure you’ve seen, there’s been . . . a development.” “Yes, I’ve seen,” she snapped. “I’ve seen that my driveway is so full of reporters I can’t get out to attend my husband’s memorial service. I thought you said you could keep things quiet.” There was a long pause, then a gravelly rumble as Connelly cleared his throat. “There was a leak, Christine. It sucks, but it happens. If the brass ever finds out who it was, they’ll be fired, but at this point the genie’s out of the bottle.” “The genie’s out of the bottle? That’s what you have to say to me after a reporter just stuck a half-naked picture of your Jane Doe in my face? That’s how I found out about the leak. Not a phone call—a mob of reporters on my front steps.” “I didn’t mean it like that, Christine, and I’m sorry. But it all just blew up. The pictures are out there, and the media...