The Cost of Commitment - KJ2 Page 5

  On the other end of the line, the receiver went dead.

  “Heh. This is even more fun than I thought it would be.”

  His gloating was cut short by the ringing of the phone.

  “Breathwaite.”

  “David, we have to meet. Lunchtime at the club. Be there.”

  “Enright.”

  “Hey, Technowiz. Hungry?”

  “When and where?”

  “Now, Lombardo’s.”

  “See you in fifteen.”

  “Right.”

  “What do you think you’re doing, Breathwaite?”

  “Bob wanted results, I’m getting him results, Bill. What part of that don’t you understand?”

  “You’re being so heavy-handed, it’s starting to raise eyebrows. The commissioner wants to know what the hell’s going on, and so do I. What have you done?”

  “Just using a little leverage. Putting a little pressure in the right places.”

  Lynn Ames

  William Redfield wanted nothing more at that moment than to wipe the smug expression off the little weasel’s face. “If this backfires and one of your ‘projects’ talks, you’re on your own,” he snapped.

  “Bill, has anyone ever told you you worry too much?”

  Redfield stormed out of the room.

  “Okay, Spinmeister, what’s going on?”

  They were settled into a high-backed booth at the back of Lombardo’s, a family-style Italian restaurant at the lower end of downtown Albany.

  “Nothing good, my friend.” Kate pulled a blue manila file folder from the briefcase at her feet and placed it in front of Peter. Inside were a series of newspaper clippings.

  After reading the first five clips, he looked up, both eyebrows hiked into his hairline. “Huh,” he whistled softly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d have to say somebody gave these folks a little help with their stories.”

  “My thought exactly. But that’s not the worst. Keep reading.” Kate reached over, locating a clipping halfway down in the pile. It was dated September 21, 1987—two days earlier.

  Peter uttered a string of expletives as his eyes scanned the top of the page. The editorial headline read, “The Woman Behind the Deceptions at DOCS.”

  Just four months into the job, it seems that the State Department of Correctional Services’ lead spokeswoman has settled in quite nicely, thank you. In instance after instance, Katherine Kyle, the governor’s controversial choice as public information officer for the nation’s third largest prison system, has buried the truth, misleading the public and abusing her position. When an inmate was murdered last month at the Auburn Correctional Facility, Ms. Kyle told our Daniel Wenger that the incident was unrelated to a series of violent outbursts earlier that same week. Reliable sources and further investigation prove that Ms. Kyle lied: the victim and the killer belonged to rival gangs that had been involved in several scuffles over the course of a two-week period. It is our considered opinion that Ms. Kyle should either resign or be fired: she can no longer be trusted to tell the truth about anything.

  When Peter’s eyes met Kate’s, they held fire. “There aren’t too many ways that ace reporter and his editors could have gotten that little tidbit, now, are there?”

  The Cost of Commitment

  “No. But what bothers me more is that they’re questioning my credibility in ways that are difficult to combat.” Kate’s wounded eyes met Peter’s. “In this business credibility is everything. Without it, I can’t do my job effectively.”

  He put his hand over hers in sympathy.

  “The sad thing is, I told the truth. That inmate wasn’t killed as a result of anything gang related, he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Unfortunately, the newspaper has just enough of the basic facts right: there were members of rival gangs planning a turf war, there were several violent incidents during those two weeks, and the perp and the vic were members of opposing gangs. Since nobody ever asked me those questions in that way, the information was never made public. But the way the editorial is worded, why should anyone believe me now?”

  Peter’s jaw muscles stood out in bold relief. “None of the line staff would be stupid enough to talk to the newspaper. Hell, none of them would’ve been able to supply all of that information. No, it had to be someone much higher up. My guess would be Breathwaite. But speculation and proof are two different things.”

  “Not to mention motive,” Kate added dejectedly. “What the blazes is his game, anyway?”

  “I’d say it’s pretty obvious he wants to discredit you and shove you out the door. The question in my mind is the same one it was a month ago: why?”

  “I’ve been puzzling over that one myself. Why would he want to take what many would consider a demotion to come back to DOCS? What’s in it for him?”

  “If we can figure that out, we may be able to stop the train before it runs over you. Where are the governor and the commissioner on this?

  I’m assuming you’ve heard from them, right?”

  Kate thought back to her meeting earlier that morning with her boss.

  “C’mon in, Kate. Have a seat.”

  She sat down in one of the visitor’s chairs facing the commissioner’s desk.

  “Seems as though you’ve been taking a hell of a beating lately from our friends in the fourth estate.”

  “So it would seem, sir.”

  “Look, Kate.” Sampson leaned forward, placing his palms flat on the smooth wood surface. “You remember when I had you in here about a month ago? We talked about the increasing scrutiny we were going to face from those assholes at the DNC?”

  She nodded.

  Lynn Ames

  “Well, now the bastards are all over me to fire you. They’re saying you’ve become a liability.” He couldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Sir, you do whatever it is you need to do.” Her tone was calm, her voice clear and unwavering, even as the words tore a hole through her insides. Kate prided herself on being the best at whatever she did.

  Failure was not an option. And while she knew with certainty that she was being set up to fail, her inability to turn the situation around was eating at her.

  “Kate, I appreciate your willingness to take one for the team, but you and I both know that this whole thing is bullshit. Whatever’s going on, it has nothing to do with your competence. You’ve been doing an extraordinary job, and scathing editorials to the contrary, I have no intention whatsoever of either asking for, or accepting, your resignation.”

  It was not what he said that surprised her so much as the vehemence with which he said it. Defying the party bigwigs was serious business.

  “And I am ever so grateful for your support, sir, but are you sure this is the wisest course?”

  “The governor and I agree, Kate. It will take more than a few lousy editorials and some unfortunate news coverage for us to lose faith in you.

  You have our full support.”

  “Huh,” Peter grunted, “I’m assuming you didn’t share your suspicions with him about the root of this whole mess.”

  “Right. First of all, I didn’t want to sound as if I was making excuses, and, second, I didn’t want to come off as some paranoid wacko. Not to mention the fact that we don’t really know yet what’s going on.”

  “No, we don’t, but we will. I swear to you we will.”

  “I know you’re right, Technowiz, I just hope it doesn’t take too long.”

  Wanting nothing more than to lift his best friend’s obviously sagging spirits, Peter changed the subject. “What’s going on with you and Jay?”

  He loved the way Kate’s eyes lit up at the mere mention of her fiancée’s name.

  “Everything’s great, except that we don’t seem to have nearly enough time for each other. I never thought I could feel this way about someone.

  The second she’s out of my sight I miss her.”

  “She’s clearly just as crazy about you, you know.”

  “Yeah,”
Kate sighed dreamily. “I know.”

  “Have you guys talked any more about when the wedding is going to be, or where, for that matter?”

  “We made a date to talk about it tonight, in fact. I can’t wait.”

  Her enthusiasm made Peter smile. “Well, just make sure you give me enough warning so that I can rent a tux.”

  The Cost of Commitment

  “A man-about-town like you doesn’t own a tux? Why, Peter Enright, I’m shocked and appalled!” She slapped him playfully as they made their way out the back door of the restaurant.

  “Yeah, yeah, tell it to somebody who believes you, Kyle.” After a pause he added, “Hey, Kate, make sure you keep in close contact with me about this, okay? Don’t second-guess yourself. I want to know everything that looks even remotely suspicious.”

  “I promise, you’ll be the second to know.”

  “See ya.”

  “Yeah, try to keep your hands off things that go boom and stay out of trouble in the meantime.”

  “Right.” Peter winked as he got in his standard-issue blue Ford sedan.

  “My God, Jay, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. How did I ever get so lucky?” Kate stood behind Jay with her arms around her waist. She was admiring her profile in the brilliant shaft of moonlight that shone down on them as they stood outside on the deck overlooking the backyard.

  The moon was bright and full, and as they gazed up at the profusion of stars overhead, Jay sighed contentedly. “Sweetheart,” she rotated her head and kissed the corner of Kate’s mouth, “I’m the lucky one.” She turned fully to nuzzle the expanse of neck and shoulder that were within easy reach. “What happened today...” She trailed off as slender, graceful fingers covered her lips.

  “I don’t want to talk about work right now, babe. I just want to be here with you, okay?” Kate replaced fingers with lips, punctuating her words with a long, slow kiss.

  “Mm. You won’t get any arguments here.” Breathless, Jay pulled back in the circle of Kate’s arms and regarded her. “Shall we talk about the future, love?”

  “As long as it involves you, me, and a lifetime of togetherness, I’m easy.”

  “Sounds wonderful to me. Well, then, I guess there’s nothing more to say.” Jay made as if to go inside.

  “Hey, wait a minute!”

  “What?” Jay batted her eyes innocently.

  “Get back here, you.”

  “Something you want, honey?”

  “Mm-hmm. You. I can’t wait to make you mine, love.”

  “I am yours, sweetheart.”

  “I know, but I really want to formalize it, sooner rather than later.”

  She looked into Jay’s eyes. “Jay, you mean everything to me, and I want Lynn Ames

  something tangible to reflect how I feel about you. I want to marry you, even though it’s not legally binding.”

  For several heartbeats, they both were lost in bittersweet memory.

  The moment Kate had first proposed marriage and Jay had accepted had been the happiest of their lives. That was just before all hell had broken loose and the future had seemed lost.

  The shadows receded just as quickly as they had come. Jay smiled up at the woman with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life, lightly brushing her fingers over chiseled cheekbones. “Darling, I would marry you right here, tonight, if you wanted.”

  “This might surprise you, but I’m a pretty old-fashioned kind of gal.

  No elopements here.”

  Jay laughed. “No kidding.”

  “I would prefer a traditional kind of ceremony.” Kate glanced down at Jay. “What do you want, love?”

  “When I was a little girl and my father was abusing me,” Jay began, squeezing Kate’s hands reassuringly when she stiffened, “I would escape in my mind into fantasies. In one of them, it was my wedding day, and I was dressed in a beautiful, flowing gown with a long train. I felt like a princess in a fairy tale.”

  “I want to give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of, Jay, including a fairy-tale wedding.”

  “You don’t have to do that, love.”

  “Babe, that’s what I want, too.”

  Jay bit her lower lip in thought. “What do you think about going back where it all started? The chaplain at college was a good friend of mine. I think she might agree to perform some kind of ceremony for us.”

  “That sounds perfect, sweetheart. I’d love that.”

  “I’ll get in touch with her to see whether she’s willing to officiate, and if so, when she and the chapel might be available. Oh, darling, I can’t wait.” She snuggled into Kate’s embrace, the safety and security of those arms the only home her soul would ever need.

  The Cost of Commitment

  CHAPTER FOUR

  t was shortly after 7:00 a.m. on a mid-October morning, and Jay sat Iin her customary seat on the Amtrak train headed from Albany to Grand Central Station in New York City. Although she held a book open in her lap, she barely glanced at it, her mind wandering as she regarded the passing landscape. The ride along the Hudson River was always scenic, but never more so than at this time of year, when the leaves were changing colors in preparation for their winter shedding. The riots of red, orange, yellow, and green were a sight to behold.

  She sighed. Despite the beauty of her surroundings, she was troubled.

  It was hard to remember the last time Kate had gotten a full night’s sleep.

  Ruefully, Jay thought, It was probably just before she took this job, which is to say, way too long ago. The hours alone were clearly taking a toll on her partner, but even more disconcerting was the suspicious circumstances and innuendo swirling just beneath the surface at DOCS.

  Had it been her integrity or credibility being called into question, Jay would have been far less concerned. But to have the media, and by extension, the general public attack Kate made Jay’s blood boil. It was all so absurdly ridiculous. Anyone who knew Kate knew she was the most upright, fair, scrupulously honest person on the planet, didn’t they? The hardest part, though, was that there wasn’t a thing Jay could do to help except to be supportive, offer an ear and a different perspective, and express her outrage at the situation.

  As for her own job, perhaps Kate was right; maybe what Jay needed to do was to try pitching her editor a story of her own. Heaven knew the ones she’d been covering lately had been less than groundbreaking.

  By the time the train had pulled into the station, she had made up her mind: she would talk to Trish first thing.

  Lynn Ames

  Jay found the editor sitting in her office with the phone to one ear, an assistant talking in the other, papers strewn across the surface of her sizable, modern workspace, and her head resting in the palm of one hand, fingers splayed through already disheveled light brown hair. Trish rolled her eyes and mimed to her ace reporter to sit in one of the visitors’ chairs in front of the desk.

  “No, Chad, I don’t care if he has to crawl in here, I’m not gonna accept another lame excuse. I want that story on my desk by noon today, got it? Good.” She slammed the receiver down without waiting for a response.

  “Have you ever noticed, Trish, that your New York accent gets more pronounced the louder you yell?”

  “Can’t say as I’ve paid that little tidbit any mind, Jamison. But now that you mention it, I’ll be sure to keep an eye on the situation.” Sharing the usual banter with her favorite writer always managed to calm her considerable temper. Jay had that effect on everyone, Trish suspected.

  “What can I do for you, other than provide your amusement for the day?”

  Jay shifted in her chair, suddenly feeling slightly foolish about her desire to ask for better assignments. “Um, you know I’m grateful for the way you’ve supported me these past few months, right?” When Jay had, of her own accord, revealed to Trish that she was the other woman in the National Enquirer picture, the editor had stood by her without hesitation.

  “Yeah.” The editor drew the word out. She
couldn’t remember ever seeing Jay this uncomfortable, not even when she had outed herself earlier in the year. “It sure sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

  “It does?”

  “Mm-hmm. Out with it, Parker. You can’t even look me in the eye.”

  Jay peeked up from where she had been staring at the hands in her lap.

  “Ohmigod.” Trish knew a moment of sudden panic. “Please don’t tell me you’re leaving.”

  “What? No, of course not. Why on earth would you think that?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve only ever seen you look this uncomfortable once before, and I can’t imagine what could be bigger than that, except maybe a new job. So please, tell me whatever it is already before I have a heart attack.”

  “It’s nothing like that, Trish. It’s just...” Jay paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. “The stories I’ve been doing lately have been less than inspiring. I guess I’m just getting a bit restless. I know it sounds stupid, but—”

  “Oh, Jay, I’m sorry.” Relief coursed through the editor. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. Truth is, I’ve been trying to keep you close to The Cost of Commitment

  home so you and that gorgeous woman of yours could have some time to get used to living together and establish a sense of normalcy.”

  “Really?” Jay was touched by her friend’s thoughtfulness.

  “Yeah, really. Guess I shoulda talked to you about it first, huh?”

  “That’s all right. I didn’t understand. I thought maybe I’d done something to get on your bad side and that’s why I was getting all the lousy assignments.”

  Trish laughed, a deep, throaty sound that prompted Jay to join in.

  “Nah, kiddo, if you’d been on my bad side, believe me, you wouldn’t have had to wonder—you would’ve known it. Here I was trying to do you a favor, and all you can do is bitch about it.”

  Jay’s trademark smile was back. “I’m not complaining, Trish, just looking for an upgrade, that’s all.”

  “Does Kate know you’re tired of spending every night with her already?” The editor was thankful that the problem wasn’t anything serious and overjoyed to yank her friend’s chain about it.