But youre lookin into it, arent you, son?
Im following up on everything we have, which isnt much. An anonymous call from someone who said businessmen were paying graft to get contracts at the Coast Guard base. A couple of anonymous letters saying the same thing, but giving no other details.
Cyrus nodded, musing, absently patting the round belly he was supposed to be dieting away. We need to get on the inside, thats what we need.
Im working on that now, sir. I have an appointment with someone down at the base this afternoon.
Maybe it was best not to mention who. And even more important not to mention that tantalizing fragment hed overheard from Amandas grandmother.
Good, good. Keep at it. Cyrus rubbed his palms together, as if he were already looking at a front-page spread. We cant afford to let this slip through our fingers. This is the real dealI can feel it.
I hope so. For more reasons than one.
Like Cyrus, he wanted a big story for the Bugle, but even more, he wanted one for himself. He wanted to erase the pain and humiliation of the past year.
Irrational. No one could erase the past.
But one great job of investigative reporting could get his life back again. The need burned in him. To go back to the life he was born for, to dig into important stories, to feel he was making a difference in the world.
This was the best chance hed had since hed come to the Bugle. As Cyrus said, he couldnt let it slip between his fingers.
Amanda stood outside the redbrick building on Tradd Street that was headquarters of Coast Guard Base Charleston, waiting with C.J. while Ross parked the car. She was beginning to wish shed had a chance to talk to the intern about proper professional clothing before taking her out on this initial assignment.
Ross came around the corner of the building, and before he could reach them C.J. nudged her. So, you and the bossare you together?
Together? For a moment her mind was a blank. Then she realized the implication and felt a flush rising in her cheeks. No, certainly not. What would make you think that?
C.J. shrugged. Dunno. Vibes, I guess. Im pretty good at reading them.
Not this time. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag. What on earth had led the kid to that conclusion? Were people talking, just because shed taken him to the beach house?
Well, wouldnt they? The inner voice teased her. Youd talk, if it were anyone else.
That should have occurred to her. The newsroom was a hotbed of gossip, mostly false. She could only hope Ross hadnt gotten wind of it.
Our relationship is strictly professional, she added. Obviously shed have to make that clear to C.J. and to the newsroom in general. To say nothing of herself.
He joined them, and that increased awareness made her feel stiff and unnatural. She nodded toward the door. Shall we go in?
Fortunately she knew the petty officer on duty at the desk. That would make it simpler to ask a favor.
Hey, Amanda. Kelly Ryans smile included all of them. Youre expected. Go on up. She thrust visitor badges across to them.
Is anyone free to take our intern on a tour while were in with my father? Sensing a rebellious comment forming on C.J.s lips, she went on quickly. Id like her to gather background color for the articles were doing. Okay?
C.J. subsided.
Sure thing. Ill handle it. Kelly waved them toward the stairs.
They headed up, leaving C.J. behind with Kelly, and she was still too aware of Ross, following on her heels. Drat the kid, anyway. Why did C.J. have to suggest something like that? It wasnt as if she didnt feel awkward enough around Ross already.
Ross touched her elbow as they reached the office. One thing before we go in. This is my interview, remember.
How could I forget? She just managed not to snap the words. Shed like to blame C.J., but the annoyance she felt wasnt entirely due to the interns mistaken impression.
She shot a sideways glance at Ross and recognized what she felt emanating from him. Tension. A kind of edgy eagerness that she didnt understand. What was going on with him?
They walked into the office. Her father, imposing in his blue dress uniform, rose from behind his desk to greet them.
Under the cover of the greetings and light conversation, she sought for calm.
I dont know whats going on, Father. Im not sure what Ross wants, but it must be something beyond what hes told me. Please, guide me now.
Her gaze, skittering around the room as the two men fenced with verbal politeness, landed on the framed photo on her fathers desk. The family, taken at the beach on their Christmas Day walk last year. It was the same photo she had on her desk. Somehow the sight of those smiling faces seemed to settle her.
She focused her attention on Ross. He was asking a series of what seemed to be routine, even perfunctory, questions about her fathers work and the function of the base.
The Coast Guard is now under the Department of Homeland Security, her father said, clearly not sure Ross knew anything about the service. Our jobs include maritime safety. Most people think of that first, the rescue work. But theres also security, preventing trafficking of drugs, contrabands, illegal immigrants. We protect the public, the environment and U.S. economic and security interests in any maritime region, including lakes and rivers.
This was her father at his most formal. He could be telling Ross some of the kinds of stories shed heard over the dinner table since she was a kidexciting rescues, chemical spills prevented, smugglers caught. Why was he being so stiff?
A notebook rested on Rosss knee, but he wasnt bothering to write down the answers Daddy gave. Maybe he was just absorbing background information. She often worked that way, too, not bothering to write down information she could easily verify later with a press kit.
But that didnt account for the level of tension she felt in the roomtension that didnt come solely from Ross. Her fathers already square jaw seemed squarer than ever, and his lips tightened at a routine question.
I dont see why you need information on our local contractors. He bit the words off sharply.
Wed like to show how much money the base brings into the local economy. Rosss explanation sounded smooth.
Too smooth. Shed already sampled his interview style, and this wasnt it. As for her father
Ordinarily when Daddy looked the way he did at the moment, he was on the verge of an explosion. No one had ever accused Brett Bodine of being patient in the face of aggravation.
There was no doubt in her mind that he found Rosss questions annoying. But why? They seemed innocuous enough, and surely that was a good angle to bring out in the articles.
So youll let me have the records on your local contractors? Rosss expression was more than ever that of a wolf closing in for a kill.
She braced herself for an explosion from her father. It didnt come.
Instead, he tried to smile. It was a poor facsimile of his usual hearty grin. Ill have to get permission to release those figures.
He wasnt telling the truth. Her father, the soul of honor, was lying. She sensed it, right down to the marrow of her bones. Her heart clenched, as if something cold and hard tightened around it.
Her father, lying. Ross, hiding something. What was going on?
Please, Lord.
Her thoughts whirled, and then settled on one sure goal. She had to find out what Ross wanted. She had to find out what her father was hiding. And that meant that any hope of keeping her distance from Ross was doomed from the start.
Chapter Four
Ross paced across his office, adrenaline pumping through his system. Lt. Commander Brett Bodine had been hiding something during their interview. He was sure of it. His instincts didnt let him down when it came to detecting evasion.
Too bad those instincts hadnt worked as well in alerting him that his so-called friend had been preparing to stab him in the back to protect the congressman.
He pushed that thought away. Hed been spending too much time brooding about what had happened in Washington. It was fine to use that as motivationnot so good to dwell on his mistakes.
This was a fresh case, and this time he would do all the investigative work himself. He wouldnt give anyone a chance to betray him.
Hed have to be careful with Amanda in that respect. All of her wariness with Ross had returned after that interview with her father. Was it because of Rosss attitude? Or because she, too, had sensed her fathers evasiveness?
He didnt know her well enough to be sure what she was thinking, and he probably never would.
Pausing at the window, he looked out at the Cooper River, sunlight sparkling on its surface. A short drive across the new Ravenel Bridge would take him to Patriots Point and its military displays; a short trip down-river to the harbor brought one to Fort Sumter. Everywhere you looked in the Charleston area you bumped into something related to the military, past or present.
The Bodine family was a big part of that, apparently. Brett Bodines attitude could simply be the natural caution of a military man when it came to sharing information with the press. Ross didnt believe that, but it was possible.
Hed have to work cautiously, checking and double-checking every fact. Still, he couldnt deny the tingle of excitement that told him he was onto something.
Once he had the list of suppliers that Bodine had so reluctantly agreed to provide, he could start working from that end of the investigation. Finding the person who was paying the bribes would lead inevitably to the one accepting them.
Sliding into his chair, he pulled out the folder containing the anonymous notes and the transcript of the phone calls. He hadnt felt this energized in over a year. This was the real dealhe could feel it.
Hed just opened the folder when a shadow bisected the band of light from the door he always kept open to the newsroom. He looked up. It was Amanda, with an expression of determination on her face.
Id like to speak with you.
Closing the folder, he leveled an I-cant-be-disturbed stare at her. This isnt a good time.
Instead of backing off, she closed the door behind her and advanced on the desk. Its important.
Not now. He ratcheted the stare up to a glare.
Her gaze flickered away from him. Good, intimidation still worked. Amanda believed that her job depended on his goodwill.
Whether it really did, he wasnt so sure. Cyrus seemed to have a soft spot for her, for some reason. But as long as she believed it, shed do as she was told.
Except that right now, she wasnt. She clasped her hands together as if she needed support, but she didnt back away.
What exactly is the slant of the story youre planning to do on the Coast Guard?
He raised a dismissive brow. I thought we were clear on this. Your only role is to arrange the interviews, not to contribute to the story, no matter how well you feel you know the subject matter.
Im not talking about my contribution. Or lack of it. I want to know what youre after.
My plans for the story dont concern you.
They do when you use me to get to my father. She shot the words back at him like arrows.
Get to him? Annoyance rose, probably because she was exactly on target. That implies that he has to be protected from the press.
Those green eyes widened. In shock? Or because she agreed and didnt want him to know it? He expected backpedaling on her part. He didnt get it.
My father doesnt need protection. But he also doesnt deserve some kind of hatchet job, if thats what you have in mind.
Apparently Amanda could overcome her fear of him when it came to her family.
Why would you assume that? Im sure my interview style isnt quite as laid-back as the one you generally employ in your painstaking search for the facts about the latest dog show or charity ball, but that doesnt mean Im planning a hatchet job.
That was below the belt, and he knew it. After all, he was the one who assigned her those stories. And hed been the recipient of enough sarcasm from his father to dislike using it on anyone else. Still, he had no choice but to keep Amanda away from the truth.
A faint wash of color came up in her cheeks. Youre after something more than a profile piece, arent you?
He stood, forcing her to look up at him. Youre an employee of this newspaper, Amanda. If you want to continue in that, Id suggest you keep your imagination in check. Anything I print about your father or anyone else will be the exact truth.