Emphasizing each word, she said, “Did you talk to him?”
He’d expected a reaction from her, but not one this extreme. “No, I didn’t. All right? Can we move on?”
“No, no,” she said, wagging her finger at him. “I want to know why you went behind my back to—”
“I didn’t go behind—”
“You absolutely did. You didn’t trust me, so you had me validated.”
“Okay, I did.”
“Why did you?”
Now, angry in his own right, he shot to his feet. “Self-preservation.”
He rounded the end of the sofa and braced his hands on the back of it. “Yes, I checked you out, because you met me yesterday looking like a coed that I’d have liked to get on when I was in college. Then I learn that you are someone who can fuck up my life more than it already is.
“And since your appearance on the scene, life has already turned rocky. Even if it wasn’t your intention, your repeat calls to the police station sent up Tom Barker’s antennas. When he discovers—and he will—who you represent, he’ll implode.
“This morning when he warned me off giving interviews regarding the Mellin case, I confronted him about his handling of it. He became incensed, red-in-the-face livid. Which is a clear indication of just how badly he fears it will be reexamined.
“His tirade didn’t squelch my interest; it spiked it. I came away from our shouting match with one goal in mind, and that was to hear what you had to say about the Mellin story, even if your source is a crystal ball.”
She didn’t say anything, but he could tell by her demeanor that her anger had cooled. He relaxed his stance and moderated his tone. “Self-preservation, Beth. As much as it sucks, I need the job. Before I got myself into an unholy fix with Barker, I damn well needed to vet you first. If you’re offended, try putting yourself in my place. I think you would have done the same. In fact, you had. You admitted to researching me before setting up our tête-à-tête.”
“You’ve made your point. I overreacted.”
“Thank you.” He returned to his seat on the sofa and took a drink from his bottle of water.
She said, “Who did you talk to?”
“At the network? I went through an endless menu but finally reached a man named Richard.”
“My assistant.”
“So he said. He also told me that you were out of town. I asked to speak to Longren. Richard informed me that Mr. Longren had just left for his lunch date with the mayor. Acting like a hayseed, I said, ‘Wow. The mayor of NYC? Are you kidding?’
“Unable to resist an opening like that, Richard boasted that it’s not unusual for Mr. Longren to lunch with the honorable mayor but he’d almost missed this luncheon date because his right hand, Ms. Collins—who, Richard confided in an undertone, is essentially Mr. Longren’s keeper—wasn’t there to remind him.”
“That was terribly indiscreet of him.”
“He must have realized it, because after that he clammed up. He wouldn’t give me your cell number or tell me where you were staying while on vacation. No amount of wheedling worked.”
“You could have told him you were a police officer.”
“No, I didn’t want to play the cop card because… well, because I didn’t know what I was dealing with yet.”
“You played the cop card with the car rental company.”
“Because they don’t know you, they don’t work with you every day.”
She gave a light laugh. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t trust my integrity, you thought I might be a little wacko, but you wanted to safeguard my reputation among my coworkers?”
The irony had merit, but he didn’t pursue it. “Who’s Longren?”
“The retiring executive producer of—”
“I already know. I just wanted to see if you would admit it. You’re the boss’s right hand.”
“He recently became the former boss,” she said ruefully. “Max is a living legend in the network news industry. After I’d been with Crisis Point for a couple of years, he took me under his wing as an apprentice. I was thrilled because I knew I would be trained by a master. Writing, editing, all aspects of production. We’ve been working side by side for the past five years.”
“Why’s he stepping down?”
“It isn’t by choice. A year ago, the network was acquired by an international media conglomerate. The expected corporate shake-up ensued, but because Crisis Point is so highly rated and one of the network’s cash cows, Max maintained his position as executive producer.
“Then he began experiencing some health issues, minor at first, then one serious health scare. He recovered, but the medical setback was the opportunity that his detractors, led by a smarmy shark named Winston Brady, had been waiting for.”
“He’s been elbowed out?”
“Internally. Publicly, a fanfare has been made of his impending ‘retirement.’ His official departure date isn’t for another three months, but Brady, who was appointed the new EP, is already making all the decisions on Crisis Point content.”
“How does this baton passing affect you?”
“My situation is tenuous. Ruffling Brady’s feathers is one reason Max discouraged me from coming down here. He warned that my ‘obsession’ with the Mellin case could be unhealthy for my career path.”
“It’s certainly been toxic to mine,” he muttered.
“But you haven’t been fired. Max thinks that I’m at risk and that if I want to keep my job, I should leave well enough alone.”