was experiencing. Uncertain what to say, she remained quiet.
He finally sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Lifting his head away from his palms, he twisted and speared her with his gaze. “Maybe you better start at the beginning.”
She nodded, uncertain where the beginning actually was. “To be honest, the bigwigs I was interviewing were pretty boring, and I just got their canned speeches of how wonderful their departments are. Then I interviewed Sidney Kilton, who is the supervisor for HR. She told me I should get away from the supervisors and talk to some of the people who do the real work in the company.”
She hesitated, waiting to see how Kyle was taking her story so far. He appeared calm, offered a small nod, so she continued.
“Well, my landlord works there, and he introduced me to a lot of warehouse workers. I had lunch in their workroom, and it was really interesting. Some of them have been there for a long time and had stories about the way things used to be. Some of them came from other companies or warehouses and had thoughts on how Kilton works as opposed to other places.”
Her gaze left his as she glanced out into the room, collecting her thoughts. “I know it might not sound like much, but I was interested in meeting these people and talking to them. All I could think of was what I wanted to do. Showcase the average worker doing their job.” Remembering Tammy, she barked out a laugh. “I also got to meet a lady that’s been working there since the company opened, and she was a hoot. I learned all about how the delivery routes were designed and she told me about the robbery.”
A flash of something undefinable flew through Kyle’s eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He didn’t say anything, so she continued. “I guess that’s where I got the idea that it might be cool to not only do human-interest stories for Kilton marketing but for the readership at Hope City Happenings as well.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze still pinned on her. “Okay, I get that. So, tell me who Father James is and what the blankets have to do with the call from your editor.”
“No, no. The blankets don’t have anything to do with my editor. The blankets have to do with Father James.”
Once again, she was sure she could hear him slowly counting under his breath. “Kyle, I don’t think you’re paying attention.”
“At the risk of being called a jerk again, Kimberly, I’m going to have to say that you’re not making a lot of sense.”
She sighed heavily and began again. “When I was younger, I used to help our parish priest collect bags of things that he would give to those less fortunate. I stopped by the other day and met with him and found out that he still has a group that does that, and they deliver blankets and food to some of the people at Cardboard Cottages. I also received a call from my editor who encouraged me to add more people to my Faces of Hope City. He sent articles about illegal opioid use and homelessness, and I started thinking that the Cottages might give me some people to talk to. You know… the real faces, not just those at Kilton but from all walks of life.”
“The real faces…?” Kyle leaned back and twisted his body so that he was now facing her directly. His brow furrowed and, if possible, the intensity of his gaze sharpened. “You’re not an investigative reporter—”
Nodding emphatically, she agreed. “I know, but it seemed interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“The article link he sent described the opioid crisis and how a drug called fentanyl is added to other drugs making it a lot more potent and addictive—”
“Jesus, Kimberly. And that’s how you wound up at the Cardboard Cottages this morning? Alone, unprotected, vulnerable.”
She pinched her lips together once again, knowing no matter what she said he was not going to be happy with her decisions.
“Just like with getting your street name, babe, I’ll sit here till you decide to tell me, so you might as well go ahead and get it over with.”
“Jerk,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Heard that before, still ignoring it. You can think what you want about me, but I want to know how you ended up there this morning.”
She lifted her hand and rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the dull ache that had settled behind