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“Well, there is this one thing… Though it’s not really a ‘human interest’. A source from forensics called in a suicide two nights ago. A single gunshot to the head. I checked it out and everything seems legit. Police reports say a body was removed from the five-starHelios Hotelon the Upper East Side. No suspicious circumstances.”
“There’s one suicide every five hours in this state, honey. What makes him so special?”
“It’s a woman. They sent me over the initial report about thirty minutes ago. Forensics noted a tattoo on her shoulder and it’s kind of distinctive—”
“How distinctive?”
“Like an ‘A’ intersected with an inverted pentagram—”
“Spooky. And?”
Give him the punchline, Ella. Don’t make him wait for it.
“It’s the same as one they found on another suicide victim at a differentHelioslast month. I remember reading about it inThe Tribune. Here, I think I kept the clipping...” Flicking through my red folder, I hold it up to show him.
A slow smile spreads across Rob’s face. “Cops caught onto this yet?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“I’ll give my contact a call and check. Let’s keep it quiet, just in case. Good work, beautiful… Ivy?” He turns to my friend. “Go check it out and take Ella with you. She’s earned it. Report back to the mid-afternoon meeting. I want to know if it’s a non-starter… Now, will someonepleasego get me a stash of those fucking bagels before I start eating copy editors.”
Everyone files out of his office and Ivy squeezes my hand as she passes. “Pulitzer within five years, easy-peasy,” she whispers. “Just don’t forget us poorEagle-erswhen you have a corner desk atThe Times.”
I laugh. “I wouldn’t fit in. I like the bargains in Targettoo much.”
“Miller, hang on a minute.” Rob’s voice pulls me back into the room as Ivy plucks the empty Starbucks cup from my hand and gives me a gentle shove of encouragement before shutting the door on us.
“Is everything okay?”
“Not really.” My heart is in my mouth as I watch him limp over to his desk and drop into his chair with a groan. “I have budget cuts coming out of my ass, bad arthritis in my left knee, a gallstone the size of a golf ball, and my wife’s threatening to send me to fat camp.”
I bite back a relieved smile. “Sounds painful.”
“Not as painful as hemorrhoids, so that’s something.”
Most Editors bark and bite and drool red pen all over everything. Not Rob. He’s more like Santa Clause on a good day, just so long as you keep feeding him newsworthy cookies.
“Moans aside, how are you settling in?”
“Fine. Ivy’s been amazing—”
“Good, because your mom’s worried about you.”
I gape at him in shock. “What…?”
How the hell does he know my mom?
“We worked together in Miami,” he admits, leaning back in his chair and grimacing at the ominous creak. “She was the best investigative reporter I ever had until she went AWOL. I hadn’t heard a word from her in twenty-two years until three months ago when an email showed up in my inbox. She told me that her eldest daughter had just dropped out of NYU, but that she was far more talented than she ever was, and I’d be an idiot if I didn’t snap her up.” He grins. “I always loved your mother’s directness. She’s one in a million.”
“She, er, really said that about me?”
But instead of being flattered, I feel flattened.I was proud to land this job on my own merit. It stings to know it was really nepotism that hired me.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I wouldn’t have offered you the position on her recommendation alone. I do my own research. Make my own enquiries. Turns out, you were on course to be Valedictorian until you stopped showing up.” He leans forward to steeple his hands on the desk. “Look, it’s none of my business what made you quit. Some kids find the job easier than the classroom, and it seems you’re one of them. Keep going, Miller. You’re living up to the name.”
I’m not good at accepting compliments. It comes from being part of a family where everyone is either brilliant or ruthless and the inbetweeners get comfortable in second place.
His words mean everything, though.
