A Thousand Miles

Part 5

The Interstate Inn wasn't new or luxurious by any stretch of the imagination. But it was worth a solid four out of five on JoLynn's weary wanderer scale of hotel accommodations, though her standards might have been compromised by the day's events. She slid her card key into the lock and pulled it out quickly. The green light flashed, and she opened the door to the decently appointed if twenty or so years out of style room she'd be sharing with Mel for the night.

"So, what's the word?" Mel glanced up quickly from her spot at the double room's little desk, then she fastened her attention back on her laptop.

JoLynn shrugged, tamping down the irritation that rose at the memory of Mel's automatic acceptance of Shane this morning. It wouldn't really be an issue, except that the day so quickly started to go wrong, and now Shane had proof of her incompetence to take back to Truman. "I don't know. Some part needs replacing. They don't have it in stock, but it should be in on the parts truck in the morning."

"Which part?" Mel asked without looking away from her computer.

"I don't know." JoLynn crossed to the room's dressing area, unwrapped a plastic cup, and filled it with tap water.

"They didn't tell you?" Mel finally looked at her again.

JoLynn took a long drink before she answered. "The mechanic told Curtis."

Mel seemed to think about that for a second, then nodded and looked back at her screen.

JoLynn clenched her jaw and took a deep breath. She and Mel had been friends since college. Good friends. Best friends. And she hated this tension between them, especially since it felt so one-sided.

Let it go.

She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. "So, what are you looking at?"

"Something you should see." Mel pushed the chair back and stood up.

JoLynn took her place, tipping the laptop's screen back to reveal the contents of the document displayed there. It was the American Highways website. And there, prominently displayed inside a frame on the right side of the page, was a picture of Shane Quinlan. And right under that was a blurb describing his "celebrated, award-winning" series of articles on touring the Lone Star state.

JoLynn leaned forward, planted her elbows on the desk and buried her face in her hands, fighting the urge to groan out loud. She was dead; her career, finished. Might as well pack up her bag, collect her beat up old Suburban and head on back to Daddy's house. Wouldn't he just love this turn of events?

"They really are good articles, JoLynn." Mel's voice was firm, but not without a measure of understanding.

"I'm sure they are." JoLynn sat up. "They're 'award-winning.'"

"You should read them."

She turned and looked up at Mel. For a second she thought maybe she'd stand up and confront her outright. Maybe demand to know whose side she was on, and what was that secretive little conversation about as she came out of the office with him. Was it possible Truman really did have a plan and Mel already knew about it?

JoLynn consciously unclenched her jaw and took a long, deep breath. Now Mel thought she should read the articles. "So I can see just how talented my replacement is?"

"JoLynn." Mel's tone at least sounded concerned. "You're sounding a bit paranoid."

She leaned back in her chair. "Am I?" She sighed and the irritation drained away, leaving her with the sheer need to confide in her friend of ten years. "I don't know. I've just got this feeling... In my meeting with Truman, he practically swore that it's not his intention to replace me with Shane. But...I can't explain it. I just have this feeling that that's exactly what his plan is. To get him started and see how the public responds. And how could they not respond to him? Look at him.

"He had this idea yesterday for a naturalized Texans segment, and it was a good idea. And he and Truman have had no telling how many meetings and phone calls about this without me even knowing about it. Good grief, Mel. For all I know you and Curtis could have been in on it for weeks, too. How can I not feel paranoid?"

JoLynn finished her tirade and held her breath, instantly sorry she'd said anything about yesterday. Mel would just think she was crazy as well as paranoid. Maybe she was.

"Calm down, JoLynn." Mel's voice was steady and reassuring. "Curtis and I had no idea this was coming. Don't you know we'd have told you if we did?"

JoLynn let her breath out and blinked back tears. She nodded and looked down, relief rendering her unable to speak. The weight of Mel's hand on her shoulder brought down her halfhearted defenses.

"I don't know what Truman's plans are." Mel said softly. "I can't imagine he'd replace you. The show wouldn't be the same. But you ought to read the articles if for no other reason than to see what you might be up against. But, you know, Shane might actually be a good thing for this show."

JoLynn nodded again and resigned herself. Mel was right. All this suspicion and anger, not to mention anxiety, was giving her a headache. And there was no use jumping to conclusions about Truman's plans when he'd told her outright that he didn't intend to replace her. He'd never dealt dishonestly with her before. Still, doubt lingered in the recesses of her mind.

"I think I'll take a little cat nap while you do that." The sound of Mel's voice stopped JoLynn's train of thought before it could turn itself completely around again. "Then we should probably have something for supper. I'm thinking we ought to order a pizza, invite the guys over, and get to know our newest crew member a little better."

Mel tossed back the covers on one double bed and got in, bunching a pillow under her cheek as she curled up on her side.

JoLynn turned to face the page Mel found for her. She sighed and leaned forward, tapping the computer back to life. Then she stared at Shane's digitized picture for a long moment. She sighed heavily and shook her head. It'd be a whole lot easier to hate him if he didn't look so darn easy to like.