The Word Master Read Online Free PDF Page B

air.
    I glanced up and saw Cecily standing with her face pressed close to the glass window of the producer’s booth. She had put down the phone and was miming for me to fill in extra time by pinching the fingers of her hands close together and then drawing them apart.
    I nodded. “Well listeners,” I glanced furtively at the big clock on the wall, “we’re almost out of time for our first night together. I’ve got to say it was a lot of fun –” I paused for just an instant as April suddenly came scurrying back in through the open studio door. Her hair was awry, and there were hectic splotches of high color on her cheeks. She threw her handbag down on the floor and reached out over the desk to swing the boom arm of her microphone close to her mouth.
    “And I am sure every single lady in Boston tonight enjoyed your company too, Jericho!” she said gaily. She flashed sparkling green eyes at me, and her lips curled into a smile like satisfaction. “Lovers and lonely hearts, this is your girl April, saying goodnight, and sleep tight… if you can.”
    April stabbed a finger at the keyboard and I heard the sound of a commercial for a local finance company fill the headphones. April drew a delicate, painted fingernail slowly across her throat in the ‘cut-out’ gesture, and I wrenched the headphones off my head and slumped back in the chair, utterly exhausted and vaguely disturbed.
    And suspicious…
    “Sorry!” April breathed. She was flustered. She waved her hand apologetically and then combed her fingers hurriedly through her hair. “I was a bit longer in the ladies’ room than I thought.”
    I narrowed my eyes for an instant, and then shrugged. “It’s okay,” I said with offhanded coolness. “I managed.”

Chapter 4.
     
    I woke to the sound of my cell phone ringing insistently. I pried one eye open. I was lying fully clothed across the bed. There was a wedge of bright sunlight creeping across the threadbare carpet, angling through a chink in the curtains. I reached for the phone and grunted.
    “I don’t know who you are,” I said thickly, “but piss off.”
    I threw the phone down and rolled over.
    I could hear the muffled sounds of footsteps in the stairwell beyond my tiny apartment, and somewhere through the paper-thin walls a baby was crying.
    The phone rang again.
    Before I could swear, the bright but urgent voice of a young woman started talking. “Jericho, it’s Cindy, Ms. Collett’s assistant from the radio station. Ms. Collett would like to see you in her office as soon as possible.”
    I sat up with a groan. Cindy?
    Suddenly I remembered the nervous young woman. I squeezed at my temples and then scraped my fingers through my hair.
    “What time is it?”
    “After nine,” young Cindy said earnestly, and somehow made the words sound like an accusation.
    I took a deep weary sigh of breath and swung my legs off the bed. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
    I dropped the phone and stumbled down the hall. My head felt stuffed with the cotton wool of fatigue so that I swayed on my feet in the shower.
    When I reached the ground floor of the downtown building, a security guard met me in the foyer. He eyed me suspiciously. It was a different man from the old guy who had let me into the building the previous night. He hooked his thumbs into the bulky equipment belt around his waist and ran narrowed eyes over me.
    “You in the right place, fella?” he asked, with a wary edge to the genial tone.
    I pointed up at the ceiling. “Radio station,” I said.
    The guy nodded. He went to his desk to make a brief muttered call and came back more relaxed. He followed me to the elevator.
    “Have a nice day,” his mouth tugged into the shadow of a smile.
    “Not bloody likely,” I said and thumbed the button for the eighth floor.
    My body craved sleep. I caught my reflection in the polished steel wall of the elevator and tried to flatten the unruly curls of dark hair. My eyes were