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“I haven’t made a mistake,” I lie through my teeth. Well, it’s not technically a lie. It’s so much more than a mistake.
“Kal, I’m not calling to argue with you.” She snaps.
“Jule—”
“Do you know Regan Landel née Wilde?”
Her question and the mention of Regan’s name completely startle me.
“Yes. Well, kind of…”
“She’s a rich, bored housewife who is also a failed journalist and is a sometimes gossip columnist,” she says without any judgment, like she’s reading from a list. She’s putting Regan into a context she can understand. Underestimating her in a way that I think a lot of people do. I feel like I should defend her, but that would only make things worse.
“Okay, so why are we talking about her, then?”
“Apparently, Regan was overheard telling someone that Remington Wilde is missing.”
“I don’t understand,” I mumble dumbly.
My plan from earlier goes up in a fiery blaze. How the hell did anyone overhear us?
“Neither do I, but you’re going to go and find out if the two are related. And if they are, you’re going to write a story about it.”
Surprise explodes inside of me and panic starts to build.
“Woah. No… That’s not the story I’m here to pursue. Wh — why would they be related?” My brain is moving at a thousand miles an hour as I try to figure how in the world she could have found out.
“Last time he was seen, he was leaving the hospital in the wee hours of the morning the day after Gigi Rivers was shot, but no one knows who he was there to visit. He was supposed to be the keynote speaker of an event the ACLU was holding and he didn’t show up. His family has declined to comment, but I have this bead on Regan. Find out everything you can about him.”
“What about the Rivers’ story?” My voice comes out in a squeak, and I clear my throat. Holy Shit. This is a cluster.
“They’re related. I just know it. My inner
bloodhound is on fire.”
She sounds more animated than I’ve ever heard her. My stomach sinks.
“If you can get this story, Kal, the job will be yours. People would die for a peek behind the curtain one of the country’s biggest families has draped themselves in. It’s catnip for our audience.” She is practically crowing.
“Okay. I’ll work on it today.” The contrasting lack of conviction in my voice is startling.
“Kal.” Jules’ voice takes on an uncharacteristic softness that’s as jarring as someone’s shout would be.
“Yes, Jules?” I ask tentatively when she doesn’t speak.
“I want you to do well. Right now though, I feel like I’m doing your job for you. I know you’re probably trying to find your feet and that you’ve got stuff going on at home. So, I’ll cut you some slack. But, just today.” Her voice loses the warmth that tinged it.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. I hate that I’m letting her down. She stuck her neck out for me. I know her credibility is on the line.
“I’ve just given you a substantial lead. I want the next one to come from you.” She pauses and waits for me to agree.
“Okay.” I know I sound lame, but right now, I don’t know what else to say that wouldn’t be a lie. I need to come clean.
“Get your head in the game. Slugman’s just as hungry as you are.”
“I know.” I feel like a thousand-pound weight has been strapped to my shoulders. “I’ll call you when I have something to tell you,” I promise and hang up before she can ask me another question.
I’m going to be sick. Why is this happening? This job was my chance. I glance back at the house. But, so was this…
