ELLE
“Psst,” Lucy hissed, poking her head in my office the next day. “I heard from a little bird that there was a big secret meeting at the mayor’s office yesterday.” “Do tell,” I said, motioning for Lucy to come in.
She stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. She took a seat across from me, leaning in as if telling me a secret in a room full of people. “Well, as you know, Peter Montgomery and I are pretty close these days.”
Peter was essentially her boyfriend and held an administrative role in the mayor’s office.
“He told me they suspect James didn’t just run off to protect himself, but that he’s dead. They found a body;
they’re waiting for the police to identify it.” I cocked an eyebrow. “James Fitzhenry?” “Who else?” she asked.
“The whistle-blower? He might be dead?” My heart sunk at those words. I didn’t know James too well, but I didn’t care for him much. Not only because he was the one who spoke out against Jeremiah, but also because he’d dated George Holt’s daughter. Still, I didn’t wish death upon anyone.
I also feared what it might mean for Jeremiah.
“Mmhmm, and they say the FBI might be getting involved.”
I leaned back in my chair, feeling numb. “Wow.”
“I know, right?” Lucy seemed to be on the edge of her seat, as if this were some murder mystery television show.
“Lucy, this is real life. This is our town, and someone from our town could be dead, while another man may be investigated for crimes he didn’t commit.”
Lucy cocked her head to the side. “How come you’re so certain Jeremiah is innocent?”
“Because I know him. I know what type of man he is.”
“Are you sure you know the real him, though? Maybe you know-”
“I know him, Lucy,” I snapped.
“Fine, alright.” She held her hands up to surrender. “I’m just saying-”
“You’re jumping to conclusions along with everyone else. That’s not responsible reporting. We don’t run a tabloid here. We wait for facts.”
Lucy’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t mean to be so bold, but are you sure your personal relationship with Jeremiah might not be clouding your judgement here? Maybe a bit?”
“Innocent until proven guilty,” I reminded her. “We stand by that philosophy here. If you have a problem with that, maybe the National Enquirer is hiring.”
Lucy snapped her lips shut and frowned. “I didn’t mean we’d report on anything that wasn’t factually true.”
“Good. Then we’re done here.”
Lucy stood up carefully, and I could tell she wanted to continue the conversation. She was proud of herself for having the gossip. I hated gossip that wasn’t backed up by fact. She should have known better than to run her mouth to me without proof.
Except I had a feeling she was right. Peter did work in city government. As soon as Lucy was gone, I grabbed the phone and dialed Jeremiah’s office number.
A friendly female voice picked up. “Office of Mayor Jenkins. This is Mary speaking. How may I help you?”
“Hi Mary. This is Elle Schaeffer. Is Jeremiah in?”
“No, he’s not, I’m afraid. I can give him a message, but he’s not open to talking to the press right now.”
“This isn’t a press issue,” I insisted. I wanted to argue with Mary, tell her that Jeremiah was like family to me, but I dropped it. I knew a better way to reach him. I thanked her and said goodbye, then hung up and dialed his cell phone.
Jeremiah’s gruff voice answered on the second ring. “Elle?”
I told him everything Lucy had told me, which wasn’t much. Jeremiah remained quiet when I finished, and I thought maybe we’d lost our connection. “Jeremiah?”
“I’m here.”
“Can you verify any of that?”
“Not to the press, no.”
“It’s off the record, I promise.”
He sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it, Elle. It’s nothing personal, but I’d rather not talk about it with
anyone – even if it’s on a personal level.”
“Jeremiah, are you in trouble?”
“Of course not. It’s all a misunderstanding. I didn’t take bribes, and I sure as hell didn’t kill anyone. The truth will come to light soon enough.”
“Is James dead?” He didn’t answer me. “Jeremiah!”
“Elle, I said I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not even sure I can talk about it yet, press or not. So please, respect that.”
The line went dead and I slammed my phone down on my desk.
“Dammit.” I wasn’t cursing because Jeremiah wouldn’t work with me; I was worried about him. What had started as nothing but some rumors turned into so much more, and I didn’t like Jeremiah’s neck on the chopping block.
I only wanted to help. Couldn’t he see that?
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. It wasn’t even lunch time and already I was on the verge of a migraine. And just when I thought the day couldn’t get any worse, there was a knock on my door.
“Yes?”
My administrative assistant, Taylor, spoke up from the other side of the door. “There’s someone here to see you.”
“Tell them to call me and make an appointment-”
I was cut off by someone opening the door. The woman who stepped into my office wasn’t my admin, but I recognized her. And my day just went from bad to worse.
I stumbled to my feet, taken off guard. “Ms. Holt, I wasn’t expecting you today.”
Lauren Holt was all legs. Without heels, she was probably 5’8″ or so, but she always wore heels, the tallest ones she could find. Her blonde hair was impeccably colored – highlights and lowlights in all the right places, and not a stray strand of hair on her head.
Lauren’s painted lips were pursed, her hands on her hips, her perfectly manicured nails tapping on her hip. I reached out a hand to shake hers, as a professional courtesy, but she didn’t take it. I dropped my hand and steeled myself.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I spoke through gritted teeth. She knew as well as I did that I wasn’t pleased to see her. We never had liked each other.
She took a seat across from me, crossing her legs as if she was trying to show off her perfect calves. She was in a designer suit, perfectly tailored to her body. She looked at me pointedly. “I read your article on Jeremiah Jenkins.”
“Okay.” I sat down at my desk. “And you’re here why?”
“Because you need to give my father the same attention you’ve given Jeremiah,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“I have written about your father.”
“Nothing to the same caliber as the article on Jeremiah,” she retorted, uncrossing her legs and crossing them again as if she couldn’t get comfortable. I rather enjoyed her discomfort; I certainly wasn’t comfortable with her there.
“Well, I grew up with Jeremiah. I know him. I have more material to work with.” It was also easier to paint him in a positive light, considering he wasn’t an asshole, but I kept that part to myself. I could be professional when I had to be.
Lauren sighed and waved her hand as if to dismiss me. “Please, you don’t even try to talk to my father. It’s clear you’re biased, which is incredibly unprofessional as a journalist, as you know. You’re letting your personal relationship with Jeremiah cloud your judgement, and you’re not living up to your duties as impartial press. You owe the people a fair and balanced view.”
As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. I tried not to let my personal relationships get in the way of the job, but even if Jeremiah had been a complete stranger, I think I’d have preferred him. The competitor was truly awful, which was the real reason I hadn’t tried to talk to him more. Every time I did, I left with my blood boiling and a desire to punch something. It made it nearly impossible to write an unbiased piece on the man.
But I owed the people fair and balanced reporting.
“Alright, what do you propose?” I tried to keep the annoyance out of my voice. I may have even succeeded.
“An interview with my father at his home with his family so you can see what type of man he is outside of the office.”
“Fine.”
Lauren raised her perfectly arched eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You’re going along with it that easily?”
I held up my hands in defeat. “You’re right. I should present both sides equally. I’ll meet with your father in his home and see him as you and your brother do.”