“He can get us ex-FBI and ex-CIA agents. We’ll need a lot of money to pay for the best, but I want them on retainer for us, and strictly nu,” she said.
“Of course, but…”
“No buts. Start right away. Call me if you have any problems. By the way, I’ve set up a private meeting room on the Internet. Here’s the address.”
Jack heard the rustle of paper.
“The password is Caesar. Make sure Winston Cain has it, but no one else. Either of you can leave me a message anytime, I check it frequently.”
The tape ended.
He knew that the recording was meant to tie the woman’s voice to the E-mail address. Proof, Jack thought, he needed proof.
He pulled a notepad out of his pocket and reached for the phone to call Maureen. A crumpled business card fluttered to the floor. He retrieved it, then turned it over, recognizing Katherine Seal’s writing and phone number. On impulse he dialed her work number, but the line was busy. Disappointed, he hung up, then dialed Maureen.
She answered immediately. “Jack, where are you?”
“Missouri.”
“I thought so. Pat Mead called. He told me you left the trade conference early, and he wasn’t happy about it.”
“I’m sure he wasn’t.” Jack reached for his pack of cigarettes, brought a smoke to his lips, and lit it.
“You don’t sound like yourself. What’s going on?”
Jack took a drag off his cigarette, then said. “I can’t get into that right now, but I’ll take care of Mead.” He stood, taking the phone with him. He pulled the wall-cord out to its full length, and began prowling the room like a caged cat.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, because Pat is going to be furious.”
“Don’t worry about it. I know what I’m doing.” He walked back to the nightstand, replaced the receiver, and resumed pacing.
Son of a bitch, Jack thought, he was sick of being on a short leash. In fact, he wasn’t used to any kind of a leash. Every other news organization he’d ever worked for loved his independent drive and lust for a scoop. They encouraged – shit –
Now, he found himself spending almost as much time finding a way around his employers as he did following the leads. What a mess, he thought. He hated having to sneak around, but the damned contract had him by the balls, a contract that he’d never imagined could be used to keep him from publishing his material.
Frustrated, Jack sat back down on the bed and stabbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. He wasn’t giving in. Not now, not ever. He had too many questions, and he was determined to find the answers.
Jack’s glance fell on the business card with Katherine’s phone number. He dialed her number again and smiled when he heard her answer.
“What brings you to Missouri?” Katherine asked.
“Let’s have dinner and I’ll tell you all about it. I know it’s last minute, but does tonight work?”
She hesitated. “All right.”
Jack followed the directions Katherine had gave him to an older, well-developed neighborhood. Large oak trees lined the sheets and towered over manicured lawns. He pulled up to a little yellow house with white him.
“The perfect neighborhood,” Jack mumbled to himself, walking to the door and ringing the bell.
Jack’s breath caught when she answered. Her curly auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders.
And her luminescent green eyes left him speechless.
She stepped back from the door. “Come in.”
He struggled to recover.
At his hesitation, she continued “I’m not sure this is such a good idea. I mean with our history and all, maybe it would be best if we just left things as they are.”
Jack stepped over the threshold, realizing that she’d misunderstood his reaction. “No, no, it’s just… you look beautiful.”
She blushed and turned to get her coat.
They walked to an old-world Italian restaurant not far from her house. Katherine looked up at the sky. “What an incredible night. I’ll bet I could count a thousand stars if I tried.”
“I’m sure you could, but that’d take awhile and I’m too hungry to wait.”
“Obviously a romantic, through and through.” She punched his arm, and he faked pain.
Puffs of breath appeared in the air as they talked. Jack jogged ahead and held the door of the restaurant open.
Handsome, Katherine thought, in a rugged sort of way. He wore a fine, navy wool sweater over a white turtleneck, jeans, and a leather bomber jacket that was well worn and stylish. She remembered his jacket, a faithful garment he’d relied on for years. It suited his personality, warm and durable.
As Katherine stepped through the entryway, she skidded across a spot of ice. Jack reached out and pulled her to him. She looked up to say thank-you, but instead met his lips in a tender kiss.
The cold air whipped around them and gusted into the restaurant.
“I’m sorry, it just happened.” he started to apologize. “I didn’t mean to catch you off guard like that.” His eyes searched hers.
Katherine smiled at him and touched his cheek. “It’s okay.”
