Running Read online

  But even though he lived for a cause more important than himself, he still believed in fighting for what was right, even if that got him into trouble. It’s the reason he wasn’t a college professor anymore.

  The problem was that Rebecca, behind her sweet smile, had the same passion for justice as her Aunt Melissa. Which never seemed to go over well with her more risk-adverse mother.

  Melissa would tell him to stay out of it. He sighed. Like I’ve ever been very good at that.

  _____

  As Jim looked at his phone, he saw a notification that the Courier news desk had posted something new to Twitter.

  Assemblywoman Delores Holcombe shot and killed in Emerald Valley. Gunman still at large. Details to follow.

  “Brian’s going to love that,” Jim muttered as he called to leave a message for his boss.

  “Hi, Jim. What’s going on over there?”

  Jim was momentarily speechless. “I didn’t think you could use your phones in the Emergency Room.”

  “One of the board members is—was a supporter of the Assemblywoman. I mentioned that I was shot once and could be attacked again. After that, they moved me to a private room and were less concerned about my phone usage than before. One of Emerald Valley's finest is outside to make sure I'm not 'disturbed'.”

  “How's your arm?”

  “The x-ray shows I was only hit by a bullet fragment. They’re going to do surgery soon to remove it. They’re saying I'll probably go home by the weekend, but who knows. Until I’m better, the staff can run the day-to-day stuff, but you will be our face and voice.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’ve got to go soon. By the way, I saw the Tweet from the Courier. I know you have to keep the media informed and all, but watch out how much red meat you feed to those sharks.”

  “Don’t worry. I used to be one of those sharks, remember? I can hold my own. Besides, if the shooter’s still at large, it’s not the reporters I need to be worried about the most.”

  “Good point. Well, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Until then, take care, OK?”

  “Always.”

  _____

  Sunset had dissolved into night by the time Gibson was prepared to give a press conference. Jim watched as media vans and reporters descended on City Hall, a scene that eerily mirrored one eight years before at the site of a horrific mass suicide. That event defined Jim’s career as a reporter. It also ushered in the lowest point of his life.

  Shaking away the memories, he approached the police chief and finalized the arrangements for the conference, agreeing to follow Gibson.

  A few minutes later, Gibson approached the lights and microphones and introduced himself to the ever-growing pool of video and digital reporters. He glanced down at his notes as he spoke.

  “As you know, State Assemblywoman Delores Holcombe was shot and killed earlier this evening. We have a press release with the particulars up on our website for you to access. In addition, I have a short statement to make right now, and then I’m going to turn things over to Jim Mitchell with the Assemblywoman’s office to say a few words and answer some questions.”

  He read from the paper in his right hand. “Police officers responded to the scene within minutes, as did emergency medical personnel. Delores Holcombe was pronounced dead on the scene. Mr. Brian Coulter, her chief of staff, was hit by a bullet fragment and was taken to Emerald Valley Hospital for treatment. Several others were treated for minor injuries and released.

  “An M1911 pistol was recovered about 50 feet away from the shooting in some bushes behind a short wall.” Gibson pointed in the direction of the parking lot between City Hall and the Community Center. “There were 4 bullets left in the clip. The bullets were Hydra-Shok jacketed hollow point cartridges. In layman’s terms, it’s designed to expand on contact, with shards breaking off from the main bullet. More than half the bullet is dispersed and can send bits of metal everywhere. Thankfully, nobody was close enough to get hit other than Mr. Coulter. The other bullets didn’t hit anyone and were recovered in the west-facing wall of the City Library.

  “The shooter is believed to have fled the scene. A driver passing City Hall almost collided with a man running away from the scene about a minute or so after the shots were fired. She didn’t get a good look at him but noticed he seemed to be a Caucasian male wearing a dark, long-sleeved shirt and jeans. She remembered the clothes because of how warm it was earlier today.”

  As Gibson paused to look at his notes, several questions were shouted out. He raised his hand to stop the queries. “Let me see if I can answer a few of your questions. The type of gun has been used by the military and police for years, but we have no reason to believe the shooter was active military or law enforcement. The bullets were hollow point but can be purchased by everyday citizens. And we have no evidence yet as to what the motive was for the shooting. To help us on that front, we’re working with the Assemblywoman’s office. Speaking of which, here is Mr. Mitchell.”

  Jim approached the lectern and microphones, exuding more confidence than he felt. He’d acquitted himself well in front of audiences before, but his years as a reporter had ingrained in him that he was on the wrong side of the microphone. He took a sip of water to steady his nerves and quench his thirst.

  “As Chief Gibson said, we’re working with law enforcement to figure out who might have wanted to do something like this. We don’t have any solid ideas, but we’re committed to giving them any help we can.”

  Jim took a breath. “Obviously, we’re all in shock at what happened. Our thoughts and prayers go out to Larry Holcombe and the entire family, as well as Brian Coulter, who's in surgery to remove the bullet fragments from his arm. He's expected to stay in the hospital for a couple of days to rest and recover.”

  He paused for another sip. “Most of you are aware I was a reporter in what seems like a previous life, so I know you all have questions. I’ll take a couple, but then I’ve got to go the hospital to get some x-rays done to make sure this”—he raised his arm—“is just a sprain and nothing else. OK, who’s first?”

  “Aaron Peterson, NBC News. You said don’t have any solid leads, but had you received threats of any kind against Assemblywoman Holcombe in the days and weeks leading up to the shooting?”

  “Aaron, as you can probably imagine, we get letters and emails of all sorts that come into our office. People complained about the Assemblywoman’s stance on the environment, taxes, immigration—you name it. She was a Republican, but she had friends on both sides of the aisle. We have a standard protocol that we use to evaluate potential threats, and none of the letters made us concerned enough to contact the police.” He found Dale and pointed to him. “Yes, Mr. Henzie.”

  “Thanks, Jim. Some people might not know this but, you were at a similar shooting at Hill Pointe Community Church in town earlier this year and today, like at that event, you jumped in and helped. You seem to have a knack for being at the right place at the right time.”

  “My wife probably wishes I didn’t.” He bit his lip before continuing. “I’m sorry. I’ve often joked that my first language is sarcasm, and sometimes I let it get the better of me. I’m happy to do what I can, but the people who deserve the credit are the police officers, firefighters and paramedics who put themselves in harm’s way every day. I did what I did for 10 minutes; they do it 24/7 every day of the year and are worthy of much more credit and praise then they tend to receive. I’ve got time for one more question.” He signaled out a reporter to his left.

  “Lauren Hickox, Sacramento Bee. While I know it’s still very early, has there been any talk about who might fill Delores Holcombe’s seat?”

  Jim took a deep breath to help stave off his natural response. “Lauren, I understand the need for the question, but forgive me if I say that’s not our primary concern right now. I’ve had calls from the Assembly Speaker and the Governor and both have expressed their deepest sympathy and support. There will be plenty of time for such considerations,
but today we are focused on Delores Holcombe. She was an excellent public servant who channeled terrible tragedy in her own life into a dream of making her district, and the state, a better place to live.”

  He allowed himself a smile. “Heaven knows we didn’t agree on everything, and we had quite a bit of a past together, but that didn’t stop her from hiring me to help serve her constituents. When people remember her, I hope they can put today’s terrible events into context and remember that she gave her life serving a higher cause. I’d argue there’s not much better that can be said for any one of us. Thank you.”

  Leaving the spotlight, Jim found Melissa. The two drove to the hospital before picking up their son and going home.

  3

  With his left wrist wrapped tightly in a bandage, getting ready Thursday morning was easier than Wednesday, but not much. Still, Jim didn’t want to be a burden on Melissa, who worked two days a week at the Courier and wrote the other three from home.

  “You don’t need to drive me in today. I can manage on my own.”

  She huffed. “I don’t think so. You’re under strict orders to rest your wrist for 48 hours.”

  “Yes, Dr. Mitchell.”

  “Joke all you want, but you’re not 25 anymore. You’ve got to ice your wrist every two hours and take ibuprofen regularly so it doesn’t swell up. Don’t be a hero, OK?”

  “I’ll take care of myself, little missy.” A grin accompanied his trademark John Wayne drawl.

  She smiled in reply, but it quickly faded. “Oh honey, I was so worried. You and Rebecca could have been hurt so much worse. Promise me you won’t put yourself in any more danger than is absolutely necessary.”

  Jim reached out and put his good arm around his wife. “I promise.”

  They held the embrace for several seconds.

  “Hey, maybe later, if you feel up to it, maybe we could…you know…” He raised his eyebrows flirtatiously.

  She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Jim. You have a sprained wrist, I’m six months pregnant and you want to ‘you know’?”

  “Well, I’m not saying we wouldn’t have to be careful…”

  “I don’t think so, buddy. Besides, I’m not in the mood to explain to the ER doctors how you hurt yourself this time.”

  “Come on. You know it would make a great story.”

  They both shared a stress-relieving laugh.

  “Jim Mitchell, sometimes you are quite impossible.”

  “I get that a lot.”

  _____

  When Jim entered the office, he was surprised to see campaign manager Lizzie Wilson waiting for him. Brian and Lizzie had worked several races together, and Jim trusted her instincts. She was petite and, because of that fact, people tended to underestimate her. But with a bachelor’s degree from Berkeley and her master’s in public policy from Pepperdine, Lizzie picked good candidates, gave them shrewd advice and, more often than not, found herself celebrating on election night.

  She extended her hand. “How’s the wrist?”

  “Getting better. I won’t be able to play racquetball anytime soon. Then again, I couldn’t play it before, so no great loss.” He smiled before pointing toward his office. “I need to check in with Mina, but I’ll be there in just a minute.”

  As Lizzie entered his office, he glanced at Delores’s now empty office before leaning over to talk with the receptionist, whose ever-present alert smile had understandably been replaced by a stern countenance.

  “It just doesn’t seem real.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Mr. Holcombe said he would be by later to pick up some of her effects. I said you would be happy to help, but he declined. He seemed a bit…”

  “Angry?”

  She nodded.

  “I would be if I were in his shoes.” He looked toward his office. “Anything else I need to know before my meeting?”

  “Brian asked you to call him once you started your meeting with Ms. Wilson.”

  “OK. To be honest, I didn’t even know I had a meeting with Lizzie. It wasn’t on my schedule.”

  “Brian set it up.”

  “From the hospital. You know, sometimes he seems like the kind of person who hands you a tissue even before you know you need to sneeze.”

  She chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

  Jim pointed to the office. “Did he say what exactly the meeting was about?”

  “Nope.”

  He took a breath. “Well, this should be interesting, then.”

  _____

  Entering his office, Jim called Brian as he started up his computer. The chief of staff answered on the second ring.

  “Hi Brian. I’m here with Lizzie on speaker. Since Mina said you called this meeting, why don’t you tell us what’s on the agenda? I guessing we have some names for…a replacement candidate.”

  “Yes, we do. Lizzie and I talked last night, and we think we have the perfect person in mind.”

  “Really? Who? I was thinking Linda Dooley. I know she’s looking to move up from her city council seat.”

  “Linda would be a good choice under normal circumstances, but this is far from normal. Lizzie, why don’t you run down what you’ve heard out of Sacramento?”

  “Gladly.” The strategist pulled up her email on her phone. “I’ve got a friend in the governor’s office who gave me some interesting background information. With Delores’s passing, Leland Chilcote out of Bakersfield will probably be the new Republican Leader.”

  Jim nodded. “That makes sense. He’s pretty popular and, assuming he wins reelection, he’ll have another two years before he’s termed out.”

  “Right,” she said. “Well, according to my source, he and Speaker Carmen Muñoz have been having a pretty heated dialogue about who would fill Delores’s seat.”

  Surprise tightened his jaw. “Last I checked, it was the governor’s job to fill such vacancies.”

  Brian joined the conversation. “Yeah, but they always get advice from the parties. That’s just Politics 101.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “With Delores gone, the Assembly is 54–26, which is one short of the two-thirds majority the Democrats need to pass any spending measure they want.”

  Jim raised his hands in frustration. “Which was why Delores was so adamant about being a Republican, even if she was more moderate than some of her constituents would have liked. She didn’t want one party to have all the power.”

  Lizzie nodded. “And that’s the problem. Governor Jackson may talk like a centrist when it comes time for people to vote, but Matt’s a Democrat at his core, and he’s not keen on giving up the chance to pass whatever bill he wants. And while he’s got some good ideas on spending reductions, you know full well some of his other plans would not go over very well in the 42nd.”

  Jim thought for a moment. “So, what you’re saying is that the Republicans don’t want to give up their last defense against one-party rule, and Governor Jackson is set on putting another Democrat into the seat? Anything I’m missing?”

  Lizzie pulled up another app before replying. “Well, we do have one option. Of the 275,000 or so voters in the 42nd Assembly District, about 40% are Republicans and 35% are Democrats, but 20% have no party preference. They’re independents.”

  “OK, but where are you going to find someone with enough name recognition, who knows the district, will vote with the Republicans when it matters, but also can appeal to enough crossover voters to keep the seat from going to the other guys?”

  Brian’s voice was quieter than normal. “We’ve got someone in mind.”

  “Who?”

  The silence stretched beyond what was comfortable. Jim bolted upright in his seat when he realized what the two were hinting at.

  “No way. You’ve got to be kidding. Lizzie, please tell me this is a bad joke.”

  She shook her head. “We’re not kidding at all. I floated the idea with my friend, and she thought Governor Jackson would go for it.”


  “You want me to fill Delores Holcombe’s seat? You know I have no political experience, right?”

  Brian jumped in. “That’s why it works. Both the Democrats and the Republicans think they can flip you to their side, and the governor knows that without a solid incumbent the seat is weak, which means they think they can pick it up in November.”

  “So, you want me to fill the assemblywoman’s seat for the next two months while I run for office in a race I am more than likely to lose to Kenny Burdo, who was 3 points down last I heard.”

  Lizzie pulled up the latest poll numbers. “Actually, they did a flash poll yesterday and Burdo is tied at 45% against a general Republican candidate.”

  “Great. And what happens if Dooley decides to run as a write-in candidate or can get the Republicans to put her name on the ballot instead of mine?”

  Brian came back on the line. “Chilcote told me personally that if you agreed to be appointed, he will make sure you received the party’s endorsement.”

  Linda Dooley had been a good city councilwoman and, while muscling her out of the race was a smart political move, that didn’t make him feel like any less of a jerk for doing so.

  Lizzie nodded. “With that, and the governor’s backing, I think it’s the best shot we have of keeping the seat.”

  “Yeah, but you know both sides would work night and day to get me to join them. And that still doesn’t stop Dooley from running or Burdo from stomping all over me on November 8th.”

  Brian exhaled. “Listen Jim, I know this is a lot to process all at once, but I’ve run the numbers with Lizzie, and we both believe it can work.”