A Good Kind of Trouble (A Trouble in Twin Rivers Novel Book 1) (34 page)

Lindsey's anxiety grew as she watched him. She preferred his mercurial persona to this one. At least when he was yelling, she knew who he was angry with and why. This quiet and serious Sam was a stranger. She did not like it.

"Bad news," Sam said finally.
 

Lindsey swallowed and waited.
 

"Got a call this morning from the mayor," he said. "Seems that he and Councilwoman Waters are concerned about the interview you did on the EFB bonds."

"That was, like, two weeks ago," Lindsey said. "Since then, I've tried to call both of them for follow-up interviews and they're not returning my calls."
 

Sam leaned back in his chair and stared at her, his face chiseled into a stern expression.

"I don't doubt that," he said. "They're worried that you're going into the story with an agenda. That you’re trying to gin up a scandal that’s unsupported by the facts."
 

Lindsey shook her head and gripped the arms of the chair. "That's not true. I'm just trying to find the truth about the real cost of this project. I don't have any agenda other than that."
 

"Mayor Darlington says that he spoke with the city attorney. They think you were asking questions that would imply there were other reasons for the bond contracts' approvals. Illegal reasons."
 

Lindsey thought back to the short interview with Rae Waters and Teri Schulman. She hadn't broached the topic of why the contracts were approved. They hadn't given her time before ushering her out of the office.
 

"But—"
 

Sam held up a hand and she paused.
 

"I told him to go pound sand," he said.
 

Lindsey exhaled and some of the tension left her shoulders. But then she saw Sam wasn't any more relaxed.
 

"That's good?" she said, unsure if Sam was finished with his story.

He shook his head. "The next call was from our esteemed leader, Franklin Bryant."
 

Lindsey closed her eyes and willed herself not to panic. The mayor calling the publisher of the newspaper meant that either she was onto a huge corruption scandal, or was completely off-base.
 

"Bryant is pulling the bond story from the Sunday digest," he said. "He doesn't see a scandal here. Not without more research and reporting."
 

Lindsey felt the office start to spin as the blood left her head. "I don't understand.”

"He doubts your source. He thinks your premise is wrong," Sam said. "He just read that big piece on EFB in the Los Angeles
Press-Herald
. He says if EFB were this corrupt, they would have rooted that information out. Bryant says he talked to a couple experts who say this is how bonds are structured and how municipal financing gets done. There's nothing to see here. There's no outrage. There's no story."
 

"But, that's not true. I've researched all this. You've seen all of it. My sources say—"

She stopped as Sam stared at her, an expression on his face she'd never seen before. Defeat.
 

"We're not running the story, Lindsey," he said.
 

Lindsey's breath shortened, her heart rate picked up.
 

"What about the story about the property sales around the arena site?"

Sam shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry. It's not looking good. If you can get something soon, I'll see if we can get it past the suits, but—"
 

"But they don't think I have any credibility," she said. "They doubt my news judgment."
 

Sam didn't respond right away. "It's going to have to be solid. Really solid. On the record. All of it."
 

"Fine." She paused, her brain scrambling to find a way to save the last month of work. A way to save her reputation. And her job. "I have something else. My source says he saw something. It might not be related, but I think it's important."
 

Sam tilted his head and nodded, so she continued.
 

"He saw Ms. Petrie meeting up with Teri Schulman, the city attorney. He thinks they're having an affair and I know that Ms. Schulman was meeting with an attorney who's connected to Bear O'Bannion, and..."
 

Her voice trailed off as doubt crossed Sam's face like a shadow.
 

"Let me start over. See, Teri Schulman worked on the site committee for the arena. The work was supposed to be kept confidential until the announcement so speculators wouldn't rush in and buy up the property before the city could secure it. But she was having an affair with this attorney who represents Bear O'Bannion. Well, at least I think he represents Bear. But anyway—"
 

"Wait, I thought you said Ms. Schulman was having an affair with Ms. Petrie?" Sam said.

"Yes, I did. I think she is also having an affair with Lara Petrie," Lindsey said. "But the thing is, the property near the arena site was leaked to someone because the shell companies bought up most of the surrounding parcels right before the announcement. And I think it was Ms. Schulman, getting that information to Bear through the attorney, or possibly through her husband—"
 

She paused, watching as the doubt grew to disappointment. At the same instant, she realized how ridiculous her theory sounded.
 

Oh, dear lord. I sound as crazy as Charlie. Is this how it happened to him? Was he once a regular sane person who one day snapped and started believing in Bigfoot and UFOs?
 

Sam’s head dipped and from his expression, Lindsey saw the battle was lost.
   

"Ms. Petrie is married. And what she does with some city attorney doesn't concern me or you unless you have some sort of proof that she did something illegal," Sam said.
 

"But she's been fighting against this bond story so hard, for no good reason."
 

Sam rubbed his face. "She's been fighting it because she agrees with Bryant that there's nothing there."

Her stomach was in knots. All her life she'd absorbed the news, knew what made a good story, knew how to parse the flood of information—what was valid, what was suspect. She'd grown up with nightly discussions dissecting the evening news and front-page stories. She had learned from the best. She'd never doubted her instincts.

Until now.

Sam Wagner was a good editor and knew how to find holes in a story. If he doubted her, then what had happened to her? Was she too distracted? Too desperate to keep her job? Too afraid to lose face in front of her peers? Her family? Had she bought into a conspiracy theory that just didn't exist?
 

She stood on shaking legs and started to leave, wanting to get out of the room before she lost the battle against the tears.
 

"In the meantime, I'll need you to cover the city council meeting Tuesday," Sam said.
 

"You mean I'm not fired?" she asked, turning to look at him.
 

"No, you're not fired," he said. "If anything, you'll get laid off. But if there are lay-offs, they won't happen until after the first of the year."

She appreciated his honesty at least.
 

"But I'll do what I can to spare you." He cleared his throat and stood up. "Look at the council agenda and give me a summary of what's on tap and an estimate of how many inches you'll need for your story."
 

Lindsey paused. "The bond vote is Tuesday."
 

"So, what do you think? About ten inches to explain how the deal works?"
 

She shook her head. "At least twice that," she said.
 

"No one is going to read seven hundred words about municipal bonds, even if that money were going to be used to construct a stadium made of candy and rainbows," Sam said, his usual gruff demeanor returning. "You've got 15 inches. And I'll send photo. But Lindsey—just the vote, just the facts. None of this conspiracy bullshit."
 

It was better than nothing, she thought, trudging back through the newsroom to her desk.
 

The piles of folders and stacks of papers on her desk only served to further undermine her self-confidence. Why had she spent so much time researching this story? Maybe Sam's insight was better. He was more removed from the story. He could see the forest, not just the trees. She was mired in the trees. The crazy, crazy trees.
 

She sank into her chair and stared at the blank computer screen.
 
The phone on her desk rang and she debated for a second whether to let it go to voicemail. Then she saw the caller ID was from the Los Angeles
Press-Herald
and picked up the receiver.
 

"Hey there, sweetie."
 

Her father's voice nearly made her throat close as the unshed tears she'd suppressed tried to escape.
 

"Hi Dad," she said, clearing her throat. "What's up? Is everything all right?"
 

Unexpected calls from her dad used to be alarming. She had always worried it was bad news about her mother, off on some assignment. Though Liz was safely ensconced in the academic world now, it was such a conditioned response that she still half-expected her dad to be delivering bad news.
 

"Everything's fine. Just checking in with you."
 

There was a pause and Lindsey shut her eyes for a long moment, feeling the sting behind her eyelids. She could count on one hand how many times her dad had called her at work.
 

He knew.
Somehow, West Fox had learned that she was getting let go. Probably also
why
she was getting let go. And if he knew, who else did?
 

"Are you sure that's all?" she asked.
 

He sighed and confirmed her worst fear.
 

"I, uh, I wanted to let you know of an opening here, in L.A., on the general assignment desk," he said. "It'd be a good fit for you. I mean, Maggie runs a good newspaper up there, the
Beacon
's a great mid-sized news organization. But you know, it's not the
Press-Herald
."
 

Since she'd graduated from college there had been hundreds of job openings at the
Press-Herald
and her dad had offered her exactly zero of them. Her classmates had dreamed of working there, but she had never wanted to take a job that might look like she was taking advantage of a family relationship. And her dad had always respected that she wanted to make it on her own merit, not on his name and title.
 

She sat in stunned silence, unable to respond.
 

There was another long pause and she could picture him squinting as he tried to figure out how to convince her to fall into the safety net he was providing.
 

"Well, you know, you'd be able to come back home to Southern California. Be near your family," he said. "Now that Adam and Vi are settled in Ventura, it would be nice for your mother and I to have both our kids nearby."
 

It was so tempting. He was offering a way out. She could quit on her terms and no one in Twin Rivers would question her decision. Of course it was better to go to work at a larger newspaper. Especially since she grew up in Los Angeles and her family was there. Leaving meant she’d never have to confront Ben, knowing that she got him fired and messed up any chance they had to be together. She wouldn’t have to face Lyle, who would probably lose his job and retirement because of her. She’d be able to slowly forget all the times she’d imposed on Dave and Kath. If she took her dad’s offer, she could save herself all of that humiliation.

But she would know the truth. She would always know that her dad had gotten her the job. That she had failed at the
Beacon
and left under a cloud. And that she had left behind a man who risked, and lost, everything for her.

"You should think it over," West said.
 

"Why are you offering me this now?" Lindsey asked.

Her dad heaved another sigh that echoed over the phone line. Lindsey shook her head and laughed grimly. The newsroom was nearly empty, but she lowered her voice in case any coworkers wandered by her cubicle. "You heard I'm getting cut loose."
 

"Sorry, kiddo. I did hear something. But this is a good job and a real offer. I mean it."
 

Lindsey pressed her fingers against her forehead where a dull pain throbbed. He meant well. But it wasn't helping.
 

"It's absolute nepotism," she said.
 

"You've got credentials. A degree from the best journalism program in the country. Seven years of daily news experience. Plus, you'd be working under so many layers of editors, I wouldn't have a thing to do with your supervision," he said. "I've got plenty to do. I'm not going to be running interference for you with some assistant city editor."
 

The
Beacon
was structured the same way, with the managing editor delegating authority for sections to lesser editors who were in charge of news, features, sports and business. Those editors supervised editors underneath them for more specialized coverage—politics, technology, arts, and education. And each of them had an assistant. She wouldn't be working with her dad on a day-to-day basis. But his name was prominent on the masthead and his influence was vast.

"I couldn't help but notice that you didn't turn it down," West said. "Look, don't dismiss it without taking some time to think it over."
 

She couldn't believe she was even considering it. What about Ben? Just as she finally met someone wonderful, someone she could fall for, she would be leaving. She wouldn’t be able to fix all the damage she’d inflicted on him. If she even could fix Ben’s situation.

"Fine. I'll think it over." Her throat felt thick and she had trouble getting the words out.