Diamonds and Dreams (17 page)

Mike
finally made an attempt to pick up the conversation and started talking about a
dance that WQXL would sponsor, but Lindsay tuned out most of his words.
 
Not knowing if she could fully trust him, she
murmured an excuse to leave and left him staring curiously behind her.

I need
to stop feeling suspicious of every person I meet,
she
scolded herself.
 
But how could she ever
feel safe enough to let her guard down when somewhere out in the world an
evil-minded person refused to allow her any peace?

For
several days Lindsay felt bothered by thoughts of her missing journal.
 
She still had no idea who could possibly have
been more intrigued by her private thoughts than by the large sum of money that
lay untouched beside the book.
 
The
circumstances didn’t make sense, but she gave up hope of recovering her property.

On
Sunday she leisurely glanced through the morning paper, glad that the print
edition hadn’t become extinct yet, as she scanned the personal ads.
 
It always amused her that people were willing
to publicize the private aspects of their lives so freely.
 
Suddenly her heart felt tight within her
chest.
 
There, for
all
the
world to read, were the most difficult words she ever wrote:

“My
closest confidante, where are you now?
 
Can you still see me?
 
Life will
never again be as it was when you were here to share it with me.”

Lindsay
made this entry in her journal when she’d finally described her anguish and
soul-searing pain as she reluctantly accepted the reality of Constance’s
death.
 
Now the agony started all over
again.
 
Each day presented more proof
that someone tried to terrify her or perhaps they wanted to drive her
insane.
 
This latest incident confirmed
that the culprit maliciously stole her diary and probably even knew she
subscribed to the newspaper.
 
How long had
the ads been in the paper?
 
Was this the
first one or did her innermost thoughts become common knowledge to anyone who
bothered to read the column in the past?

The
next morning she called the newspaper office to inquire as to the identity of
the person responsible for placing the ad.
 
“We’re sorry, ma’am,” a female voice told her, “but that information
must remain confidential.”

“Let
me explain why this ad concerns me so much.”
 
Lindsay went on to tell about the recent events.

“I’d
like to help you, but I’m not allowed to divulge any of the details you’re
requesting,” the woman responded before she hung up.

Lindsay
sighed as she ended her call.
 
She came
up with nothing again.
 
In her mind she
pictured a face that was a blur, and the only part of it that was clear to her
was the mouth that was twisted into a smirk as if it laughed at her.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

On
Thursday morning the telephone rang as Lindsay entered the house after going to
the bank to make deposits.
 
She managed
to reach the phone on the sixth ring before she breathlessly answered, “Hello?”

“Is
this Lindsay Blair?” asked a male voice.

“Yes.
 
How can I help you?”

“My
name’s Frank Thomas.
 
I own WCIT, an
adult contemporary radio station in New York.
 
Ever hear of it?”

“Yes.
 
Your format is terrific!”

“Glad
you like what we’re doing.
 
Do you think
you’d be interested in becoming part of our team?
 
I’m looking for an announcer.
 
When I traveled through Columbus, I tuned in
to WBKB a few times and heard your show.
 
You’ve got a nice style.”

“Thank
you.”

“My
station needs someone like you with charisma so we can attract a younger
audience along with more mature adults.
 
Interested?”

“I—I
don’t know,” she stalled.
 
“Your offer
caught me by surprise.”
 
Although radio
personalities often received offers from other stations, she didn’t expect that
anyone would notice her enough, at least not right away, to single her out from
the others.

“I
don’t mean to rush you into making a decision, but I need an announcer
immediately since my old one already left WCIT.
 
One of my other employees pitched in and worked additional shifts, but I
know that would exhaust any host, so I’m interested in getting some relief for
him as soon as possible.”

“That’s
understandable.
 
Tell me more about the
job.”

He
gladly provided her with more details.
 
The job seemed ideal for her, even if it would mean an out-of-state
move.

“If
you’ll leave a number where you can be reached, I’ll call you back tomorrow and
give you my decision.
 
I need time alone
to consider it and my current contract obligations.”

“Fine.
 
I’ll look forward to hearing from you,” he said, leaving his number.

Lindsay
felt dazed as their call ended and she settled into a soft chair.
 
Everything happened so quickly.
 
She could hardly believe that she had only
about twenty-four hours to decide whether or not her life would take a new
direction.
 
The job at WCIT would mean a
raise in her salary and a giant step forward for her career.
 
Tension at WBKB had built up for a long time,
even before Brant became her partner.
 
Many times she didn’t approve of Desi’s ideas, but he forced her to
promote them anyway.
 
Then there was
another problem—she feared she’d lose listeners at WBKB since many pictured her
and Brant as a team and now she did the program solo again.
 
Brant’s winning the contest proved that they
preferred his outgoing style to her conservative attitude.
 
What if they switched over to WBKB’s rival
station where Brant worked now?

Of
most importance, she had to consider her relationship with Brant.
 
If she moved away from Ohio, there would be
little hope that they’d ever get back together again.
 
Yet, she’d really lost him already, hadn’t
she?
 
From the beginning, she warned
herself that she shouldn’t fall in love with him or she’d only be hurt.

First
thing the next morning, she called Frank Thomas.
 
“I’ve decided to accept your offer.”

The
rest of the week she busied herself by making plans for her new job.
 
There was a lot to do in such a short
time.
 
Most of the packing still remained
to be done as well as deciding what to do with the house.
 
She could put it up for sale, but it could
take
awhile
before it sold.
 
Maybe the best solution would be to rent it
with a purchase option so she wouldn’t have to leave it empty.
 
Then came the problem of finding another home
for
herself
besides getting accustomed to a strange
city.

Soon
after she faced the awkward situation of breaking the news to
Desi
that she, like Brant, decided to quit WBKB and accept
a job elsewhere,
Desi
didn’t waste time in hiring a
replacement for her.
 
He also added
gruffly that she no longer needed to come to work at WBKB during the short time
she’d have until she left for New York.

Thinking
about how much she’d miss her friends, her favorite spots around the Buckeye
State, and especially Brant, she wondered briefly if she made her decision too
hastily.
 
Then she counted all the
advantages which her new job would present.
 
She’d meet many new friends as well as meeting the challenge of a better
job.

Remembering
that this was the night Brant would work at WQXL, she tuned in to his first
program.
 
Who knows?
she
thought.
 
It
could be the last time I hear his voice.
 
She didn’t plan to see him before she left; saying goodbye would be too
painful.

Brant
was halfway through his show when she switched on the radio.
 
“This is request and dedications night,” he
said.
 
“I’ve got another caller on the
phone.
 
What song would you like me to
play, sir?”

“The
one called, ‘Honey, Don’t Leave Me Alone.’”

“Would
you like to dedicate that to anyone?”

“Yes.
 
To Sheila from Don.”

“I’ll
play it next for you and Sheila.”

“Thanks.
 
Maybe if she hears you playing our song,
she’ll come back to me.”

“I’ll
do whatever I can to help.
 
Here’s your
song.
 
Sheila, it comes to you with a lot
of love from Don.”

How can
Brant feel so calm, so content, when all the disturbing things happened lately?
 
He’s a true professional,
Lindsay
reminded herself.
 
Even if he’s in a terrible mood, he never lets his audience know it.

“Hello,
who’s this?” Brant answered the phone again.

“Annie,”
came
a soft, feminine voice over the air waves.

“What
song would you like to hear, Annie?”

“‘Call
of the Wolf,’” she said, “and I’d like to dedicate it to my boyfriend, Billy.”

“Annie?”

“Yes?”

“Is
Billy a wolf?”

She
giggled, “Yes, sometimes.”

“Yikes!
 
There’s a full moon out tonight, so if Billy
is nearby, don’t stand too close to him while I play this song.”

He never
jokes around like that with me anymore,
Lindsay thought forlornly.

When
the song ended, Brant put another caller on the air.
 
“Grandpa?” a childish voice asked
hesitantly.
 
“Is that you?
 
My loose tooth finally fell out.”

Brant
chuckled.
 
“It did?
 
What’s your name?”

“Johnny.
 
You’re not Grandpa.
 
Is Grandpa there?”

“Sorry, Johnny.
 
He’s not, but you can still talk to me.
 
How old are you?”

“Five.”

“What
city are you calling from, Johnny?”

“Juneau, ‘
laska
.”

“Alaska?”
 
Brant repeated.
 
“Wow, so your tooth fell out in Alaska, did
it?”

“Yes!”

“Don’t
worry, Johnny.
 
You’ll grow a brand new,
shinier tooth soon.
 
Is your mom or dad
around?”

“Mommy’s home.
 
Want to talk to her?”

“Yes,
please.”

“Mommy,
the nice man wants to talk to you,” Johnny said, his voice growing more
distant.

“Hello?”
 
His mother spoke softly over the phone.
 
“Who’s this?”

“This
is Brant Diamond of WQXL in Columbus, Ohio.
 
Your son, Johnny, with the missing tooth accidentally called our music
request and dedications hour.
 
You’re on
the air right now!”

“Oh, dear!
 
I told him not to play on the phone!”

“If
you promise not to scold him, and if you’ll make sure that the Tooth Fairy visits
and leaves him a handsome sum tonight, I’ll arrange for the long distance
charges to be reversed if you’ll remain on the line and give my production
engineer your name, address and phone number.
 
I’ll also throw in a gift certificate that you can use online, just in
case the Tooth Fairy’s offerings aren’t enough to please Johnny.”

“Oh!
 
Thank you, Mr. Diamond!
 
You’re the greatest!”

“You’re
welcome, but first, I’ll dedicate this next song to Johnny.
 
It’s called, ‘My Long Distance Friend.’”

Music
played again and Lindsay, reclining on the sofa, thought,
It sounds like Brant enjoys his new job.
 
Already he’s at ease with it.

Closing
her eyes, she dozed off and dreamed of Brant.
 
When her eyes fluttered open again, Brant’s voice remained on the radio
as he prepared to end his show.
 
“We’ve
got time for one last dedication, folks.
 
This one is called, ‘Love’s Broken Wings,’ and it goes out from
Crayton
to a very special lady so she’ll know he still
thinks about her all the time.”