Full Tilt - Rick Mofina 19 стр.


He dropped fast food into it, then locked the door.

Then he unlocked the second one, opened it and hesitated.

Please! Ill be good, please! Please! A soft voice rose from the darkness.

Ignoring it, he dropped the food and locked the door.

Then he sat in the corner and as he listened to the small movements of life coming from the boxes, he stared at them, thinking.

Thinking hard about what he was going to do.

26

Utica, New York

Lori Koller, an assistant at Essential Office Supply, set her fresh cup of orange tea on her desk and looked at her calendar.

Day by day. She sighed.

Ever since her husband, Luke, had died ten months ago, shed struggled to carry on with their two little girls, the way he wouldve wanted. He was devoted to his family.

She glanced out the window of her building on Genesee Street.

Luke had been a construction worker. He was killed after falling ten stories at the site of a new apartment complex. But Lori hadnt received much in the way of compensation, because the investigation found that Luke routinely unhitched his safety harness. It complicated everything. Lukes life insurance policy was small. They had been planning to increase their coverage before he died.

After the funeral costs and the loss of Lukes income, debts started piling up. Friends helped by holding a small memorial banquet but in grappling with her grief, caring for the girls, who cried for their daddy, Lori had had a rough time. She got counseling for her and her daughters, sold their SUV, their van, Lukes tools, his boat and trailer, got a smaller car and paid down some bills.

Things were not easy and the hurting never went away, but day by day they were getting better, Lori thought, sipping her tea. She had gotten busy updating the monthly reports when her phone rang.

Hey, its me. Did you see todays OD?

Her younger brother, Dylan, was a city bus driver, and, judging from the background noise, he was calling from the yard. Why would he ask if shed read todays Observer-Dispatch?

No. Why?

Go online now and look for the story about Rampart.

Im kinda busy.

You have to do it, right now.

Dylan.

Right now, itll only take a moment. Ill stay on the line to be sure you find it.

All right. Her keyboard clicked. You are such a pain. She went online to the newspapers website, found the story and started reading.

Did you find it? Her brother was anxious.

Shh!

Lori read fast, and her attention shifted from the text to the images, particularly the photo of Carl Nelson.

See the picture of the guy theyre looking for?

Oh, my God!

Its him! Thats the guy who bought your van.

But he said he was from Cleveland and I dont think thats his name. Id have to check the sales papers.

Lori. I was there with you. Thats him! You have to call the police line and tell them.

I dont know, Dylan, this is all scary. Its all too much.

You have to, Lori. Do it right now!

After Dylan hung up, she looked at the article. At the bottom was the toll-free number of the police tip line. Lori took a few breaths then reread the story. What happened in Rampart was such a horrible thing. Then it occurred to her that she wouldnt want police to think she was somehow involved. Okay, okay, shed do what any good citizen should do. Before she realized it, shed dialed the number.

As the line rang in her ear she stared at the article and the photos, the search for human remains, then into the eyes of the man who had bought her family van.

27

New York City

Kate scrolled through news stories on her phone while sitting in the upholstered chair in the reception room of her daughters dentist.

Still no confirmation out of Rampart on the ID of the remains.

Kate bit her lip to push away the fear.

It had been a day since shed returned and in that time, between pursuing leads, shed reconnected with her home life. While shed only been away a couple of nights, it felt longer. Getting Grace to todays appointment gave her a sense of being a mom again.

КОНЕЦ ОЗНАКОМИТЕЛЬНОГО ОТРЫВКА

Holding Graces jacket in her lap, she traced the little hearts that were on the cuffs, thinking how lucky she was to have her. Grace was her rock, her anchor. Shed kept Kate sane through the years, just by being a kid.

Grace was practically the same age that Vanessa was when the accident happened. She even looked a little like her. Kate smiled and lifted her face to the opposite wall, which was plastered with snapshots of children showing mostly gap-toothed grins.

The display was called Smiling Angels, and it propelled Kate back to: her mother setting down a tray of fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies, the kitchen smelling so yummy. You can each have one, girls. I dont want you getting cavities. She and Vanessa each took one but split a second cookie when Mom wasnt lookingVanessa laughing so hard.

Kate suddenly thought of dental records and human remains.

Hi, Mom! Grace appeared, clutching her new free toothbrush, floss and toothpaste. No cavities!

Thats great, sweetie!

Mom, were you crying? Grace tugged on her jacket as Kate helped.

No, just a little tired from the plane. She blinked. Lets get you back to school.



After taking Grace to school and signing her in, Kate got on the subway to Penn Station, then walked to Newslead. At her desk she again scanned the latest stories out of Rampart, checking to see if her competition had broken anything on Carl Nelson.

Nothing had surfaced.

The first message she checked was from Chuck.


Find something today to advance the story, keep us out front.


Im working on it, Chuck.


Kate was still checking her messages when a new one arrived from Reeka.


Could you please come to my office?


Reeka had her face in her phone, texting, when Kate tapped softly on her open door. Shed noticed how small Reeka seemed behind her desk, as if it, or her position, was oversize for her.

Please sit down. Reeka kept her face in her phone. Kate saw that the flat-screen TV in the corner was frozen on footage of the Rampart case. So Reeka exhaled and put the phone down. Howd things go for you?

Okay. Kate was guarded. Considering everything.

And howre you holding up, considering everything?

Im okay.

Your stories are solid.

Thanks. Kate remained wary, the way a mongoose is wary of a cobra.

But you do have the inside track.

Excuse me?

I wanted to show you something. Reeka played the footage of Kate being interviewed at Rampart, then froze it. Youre aware of Newslead policy about reporters giving interviews to other press?

Yes.

Reporters dont comment on the news without prior permission from a supervising editor. Its decided on a case-by-case basis. You needed prior permission.

Reeka, what is this? You do know what this storys about? Youre aware of what was agreed to in my covering the case with Chuck, Morris and Ben Sussman? You were part of it. Ive been digging my ass off. Youre aware of what Im going through here, and how my inside track, as you call it, my personal anguish, is being exploited by Newslead?

Of course. And I couldnt begin to imagine the heartache youre enduring, but I have to keep in mind what happened in London. That situation eroded our credibility and our integrity. I have to insure we do things by the book, Kate.

This is not the same thing as what happened in London, Reeka, and you know that.

A knock sounded at the door and both women turned to see Sussman standing at it.

There you are, Kate. I just wanted to say pickup rates on this story are sky-high. We understand how hard this must be personally for you, Kate. Were all praying for you, so whatever you need, you let us know.

Thank you, Ben.

Be assured, Newsleads behind you. By the way, Ive heard through the grapevine Good Morning America and the Today show, are showing interest in having you on soon. So lets see how things go.

After Sussman left, Kate turned to Reeka.

Id like to get back to work.



Kate detoured to the restroom to check her face and contend with the corporate hypocrisy. Were all praying for you. A few days ago they all wanted me fired. If I didnt love the job here-if Chuck didnt have my back Id-calm down. Just calm down and stop thinking about yourself.

Back in the newsroom, Kate was struck with an idea.

She went to the business section and the desk of Hugh Davidson, who reported on computer technology. Hugh was otherwise known as Newsleads Emperor Nerd. He was partial to bow ties and pastel shirts.

Hey, Hugh, got a sec? I need your help.

He swiveled in his chair, crossed his arms.

Shoot, Kate. I got five minutes before I have to go talk to some Apple honchos.

Youve written about hackers and the best of the best out there.

Thats correct. Nice that youre familiar with my work.

Youve got contacts in hackerdom, or whatever its called.

Correct.

You know about my situation?

Yes, I also read your work.

Do you think you could put me in touch with some of your hacker friends? I want to write a deep bio on Carl Nelson.

Hugh touched one finger to his lips.

I do know of some entities in the cyber mists whore remarkably skilled and would be up to the challenge.

Kates cell phone rang.

Great. Ive got to take this, Hugh.

Ill put some feelers out there and get back to you.

Kates phone rang a second time.

Thanks, Hugh. Kate Page, she said into her phone.

Hello. This is Will Goodsill in Denver. I got a call from a cousin who said you were trying to reach me.

Yes, Will, thanks for calling. This concerns a story you wrote fifteen years ago for the Denver Star-Times, about a missing Canadian girl.

So you said in your message. I looked you up and your current work. Youre looking for a connection to Alberta, Denver and New York?

Exactly, yes. Kate was impressed. Can you help me?

Im a hoarder of files and notebooks, but we had some flooding a few years back, so I cant say if Ive still got everything from that time. I remember that story, and I did some digging on it myself. Ill have to look to see if it survived and get back to you, Kate.

28

Rampart, New York

Lori Koller, the woman on the phone from Utica, was uneasy.

Youre certain you sold your van to the man in the photograph, Carl Nelson? asked Ed.

Yes. Only he said his name was John Feeney from Rochester. But I swear thats him in the picture. Please dont give out my name.

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