Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
M itch brought Harper a bottle of water. He and Kyle already had some. She was at one end of the couch in his office, Kyle at the other. Bunny lay on the rug equidistant between them, but she faced Kyle.
Mitch pulled his chair around from behind the desk and brought it over. He took his seat. “It’s really good that you could come on short notice.”
“It was no problem,” Harper said. “Happy and eager to help.” She twisted the cap off and took a sip, then set the bottle on the side table to address Kyle. “Your first book was such a page-turner. Do you have thoughts about the next one?”
He nodded. “I do. I have an outline of all my ideas, but ideally, I’d like this next book to be the introduction to a series. Unlike Cold Blue Murder , which is really a standalone, I’d like to do a series next. I think it makes sense.”
Mitch approved of that. “It does. Series are great. Readers love them and they can give you great sell-through once you build up your backlist.”
“I think I understand all that,” Harper said jokingly.
Kyle chuckled. “We’ve talked about the publishing business so much in this house, all my life really, that it’s become like a second language. I guess we take that for granted.”
“Fortunately,” Harper said. “I’m a quick study. So a series, huh? Are you thinking about a detective series?”
“A series, yes. I don’t know about the detective part.” He hesitated. “That’s really what I need to figure out.” He glanced at Mitch. “I’d love to replicate the success of someone like Lee Child, but obviously, I am not going to copy another author. Not only would that be unethical, but readers would see right through it.”
“You want to stay in the thriller genre?” Harper asked.
“I do,” Kyle answered. “And I’d like to break some of the standard rules. There’s a certain kind of a formula for a lot of thrillers, there is for most genre books, really. I don’t mind coloring inside those lines, but I want to make it interesting.”
“You definitely did that with your first book,” Harper said.
Mitch leaned back, curious to see what his son was thinking about. “Do you have an idea for a main character?”
Kyle chewed his bottom lip. “I sort of do, but it might not be great. Or people might hate the whole idea. I don’t know. I like it, but I’m not sure if that matters.”
Harper, in true fashion, didn’t react negatively. “Why don’t you tell us who the character is, and we’ll see if we can shape them into something that makes you feel more confident. Or maybe they’re already great and you just don’t realize it.”
Kyle blew out a breath like he was getting rid of nerves. “Okay. The character is not your typical retired police officer. He’s autistic, on the spectrum anyway, and he sees things in a really analytical way. Almost with a sort of computer logic.”
“Robby,” Mitch breathed out, the image of Kyle’s childhood friend instantly appearing in his head.
Kyle looked up and nodded. “Yeah. Just like Robby.”
“I’m lost,” Harper said.
“You explain,” Mitch said to his son.
Kyle shifted in her direction. “Robby was my best friend growing up. We went through middle school and high school together. He didn’t have a lot of friends, but we connected.” He laughed. “Mostly through Legos. But as we got older, we stayed friends.”
“He was autistic?” Harper asked.
“Yes. Fully functional, but not big on eye contact or touching,” Kyle answered. “He got a little better about that as the years went on. He worked with someone on that. He was incredibly smart.”
“Computer-like,” Mitch offered. “Had a brain like Google. He knew all kinds of obscure facts and figures, could rattle off statistics on just about any subject at the slightest mention. It was really something.”
“Wow.” Harper looked at Kyle again. “So he’s your inspiration?”
“Yes. What do you think?”
“I think it’s interesting,” she answered. “I like that you have a real person to base this character on. What happened to Robby? Are you still in touch with him?”
Kyle shook his head. “Not as much as I should be. He had a ton of scholarships when he graduated and ended up going to MIT, where he got into artificial intelligence. Last I heard he works for Owen Monk.”
Harper’s eyebrows shot up. “The billionaire?”
“Yep,” Kyle said. “Robby did all right for himself.”
“I’d say so.” Harper crossed her legs under her. “So what else is this series going to have?”
“I feel like the main character needs a sidekick. Probably someone who hasn’t got his genius IQ but is street smart.”
“The Watson to his Sherlock.”
Kyle grinned. “Yeah. But more like the Watson in the Benedict Cumberbatch version of Sherlock. Someone who can protect the main character, because I don’t see Robby being especially good at fighting or weapons or anything like that.”
“Okay,” Harper said. “Male or female?”
Mitch approved. “Good question.”
“Hmm.” Kyle tapped his fingers on his leg. “I was thinking another guy, but a woman would make for a nice twist.”
Harper leaned toward him, a sure sign that she was getting invested. Mitch had seen her do that enough times to know. “What if she was former military? Maybe not even U.S. military, maybe Israeli. They’re pretty tough.”
“Oh.” Kyle’s eyes widened in obvious excitement. “I hadn’t considered anything like that but wow, I like that a lot.” He sat back and went into thinking mode, his gaze somewhere distant, his lips rolled in.
“Maybe,” Harper went on. “She’s the sister of Robby’s college roommate, who died for reasons as of yet unknown, and on his death bed, he made her promise to protect Robby.”
“Oh, wow, yeah,” Kyle said. “I could do so much with that.”
Harper smiled at Mitch. He winked at her. She was good. He never would have thought about the female soldier angle or the death-bed promise. In all truth, he probably would have suggested another male character, an older mentor type. But her idea was better. Her idea would bring in a wider demographic of readers.
“How did you get so good at this?” he asked quietly.
She just grinned. “I read a lot. I watch too many movies. And I know what I like.” She shrugged. “It’s a blessing and a curse, I guess.”
Mitch shook his head. “All blessing, I promise.”
Kyle got up. “I need to go make notes and write some of this down. Work on names. Things like that. I’m sorry, but I need to get this down. I have all kinds of ideas now and I don’t want to lose them.”
Bunny stood, ready for anything.
“Go ahead,” Harper said. “Whatever the process is, embrace it.”
“Thanks.” Kyle started to leave, then stopped. “You were really helpful. I mean it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled.
He took off, Bunny jogging after him.
Mitch shrugged. “I guess we’re done. I’ll still pay you for the whole hour. That’s only fair.”
“Whatever you think.” She tugged at the cuffs of her shorts. “Willa, Jack and I are going to the beach. Archie, too.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It should be. Unless the paparazzi figure out we’re there. Well, that Jack is there. They don’t care about the rest of us, obviously.” She snorted. “You want to come? You’re welcome to. You and Bunny.”
Having to say no was a bummer, but he really wanted to stay on track with the book. “As much as I would like to, I need to get some pages done. Especially if I’m going to have this draft done before we leave for L.A.”
She nodded. “I figured. Don’t worry about it. We’re just going to hang out. It’s not like we’re doing anything special.” She inched toward the edge of her seat. “I heard from Jack that Angelo got things taken care of with Addison. I don’t know if I was supposed to know that or not.”
Mitch grunted, a little peeved at himself. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself. I meant to. It was kind of a late night last night and then Ruthie was a little fussy this morning and things just got away from me.”
“No worries,” she said with a smile. “I’m just happy that’s behind you. Both of you. It has to be such a huge weight off your mind.”
“It is.” He sighed. “She signed those papers without even trying to negotiate for more money. She took the first offer.”
“You seem bothered by that.”
“I am. I don’t get how a mother can be so cavalier about her child. How she can care so little.”
Harper pursed her lips. “I do.”
“I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” At a soft humming, she reached into her back pocket and retrieved her phone. After a glance at the screen to see who was calling, she said, “I should take this.”
“Go ahead.”
“Hello? This is she.” Harper’s face went blank. Then all the color drained out of her. “I see,” she said softly, her voice oddly thin. She sucked in air, nodding. “Okay. I will. Yes. Thank you.”
She hung up and held the phone in her lap, staring past him.
“Everything okay?”
Liquid lined her lower lids. A tear spilled, tracking down her cheek. She swallowed as she shook her head and put her hand to her mouth. After a moment, she spoke. “That was the assisted-living facility. My mom just died.”