Клэр Донелли - Hiss And Tell

“More like a shark.” Sunny shuddered. “He is a murderer, and he was going to throw me away like a piece of garbage once we got far enough offshore. That’s what would have happened if you hadn’t turned up.”

“Well, we know he had you tied up while sailing out to sea,” Will said. “But can you prove the blackmail scheme?”

“I found a bunch of cameras set up to record the scene. They have a wireless connection, and I suspect that when you trace the other end of that, you’ll find a computer with lots of incriminating evidence. Cale was clever, but arrogant.” She paused for a second. “But to do that, you’ve got to report to the police. How is Captain Ingersoll going to take all of this?”

“I followed his orders to the letter,” Will replied with a grin. “He told me he didn’t want to see me on the streets of Wilawiport.” He gestured at the open water around them. “Does this look like a street?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Sunny said. “Although it is pretty clever.”

“You mean why am I here?” Will put both arms around her. “That was pure luck. We were just arriving when I spotted the rowboat heading for the yacht. That orangey pink dress of yours caught my eye.”

“Coral,” Sunny told him.

“I always liked you in that dress. It’s very pretty.” He held her a little more tightly.

Sunny looked down ruefully. “I hope I can get it clean.” She relaxed in the circle of Will’s arms—and then stiffened. “Shadow! No!”

*

Scrambling down fromthe big curtain on a stick, Shadow had an excellent view when Sunny’s He arrived—and it was very good to see. Sunny kicked the bad Smells Good two-legs, and her He knocked him down. That was good. Even better, Sunny and her male friend stood very close together.

Maybe things will work out all right, Shadow thought. Sunny and I will go back to live with the Old One, and her He can come and visit.

He still had some business with Smells Good, though. Chase me around, will you? Shadow thought, strutting up to the helpless human who was just beginning to stir and mutter. You like made smells? Well, here’s one for you. Shadow braced himself, thankful that he hadn’t had a chance to relieve himself before this adventure. By the time he was done, Smells Good smelled very different.

20

By the timeSunny and Will got to Shadow, the damage had been done. A reeking Caleb Kingsbury was taken into custody by several state troopers coming out on the commandeered launch from the Neal’s Neck compound. Ben Semple had been busy on the radio.

In the end, plenty of law enforcement wound up represented. Lieutenant Wainwright was there, and Captain Ingersoll, alternating between a slow burn at Will’s insubordination and astonishment not only at Will’s story, but how quickly it was proven—and how the story kept growing. Even the Maine Marine Patrol turned up to deal with the stranded Merlin .

Police technical types quickly tracked down Cale’s computer. Apparently in his rush to get to the bower after spotting Sunny on camera, he’d left the system on. And her prediction proved true. They found plenty of evidence of previous “little projects,” as Cale had called them.

Scenting a sensational story, the media responded in its usual voracious way. But Sunny left the law enforcement types to deal with that. By arrangement with Ken Howell, she only gave one exclusive interview, to the Harbor Courier —well, semi-exclusive, since Randall MacDermott participated.

“We wouldn’t have gotten the lead on the Taxman if it weren’t for Randall,” Sunny explained to Ken, who grudgingly went along with her request. Will insisted on accompanying her for the joint interview.

I don’t know why he feels he has to be here, Sunny thought as Will took a chair beside her in the Courier office while Ken and Randall set up their recorders. Does he think Randall is going to throw me over his saddle and head off to New York with me?

Of course, she realized, Will had just decked a guy—literally—who’d tried to run off with her, so maybe he was operating under an excess of testosterone.

She outlined the Taxman’s extortion business in general and then gingerly made her way into the specific scheme that had led to murder. It wasn’t easy. Ken and Randall were both proficient Q and A types who put her through an interrogation that would have made Lieutenant Wainwright green with envy.

Sunny fought to keep Beau Bellingham’s pill problem out of the discussion, just vaguely referring to blackmail. What was the use of ruining his life? But the story of Eliza’s sex tape had already surfaced, and she had to give some explanation of the plan to ensnare Carson. Neither of her interviewers was happy at her unwillingness to spill all the dirty details, but Sunny felt she owed that much to Priscilla and Carson. Sunny and Will had already warned them about the coming media firestorm as soon as they got on dry land, so it wouldn’t hit the couple out of the blue. At last, realizing he wasn’t going to get any more out of her, Ken turned off his recorder, eager to get going on the story and a new special edition of the Courier . Randall did the same, before rushing to his computer and getting the story down to New York before the Standard went to press. By the time Randall flew back to the big city, his front-page story would be hitting the streets.

But now, he hesitated. “I want to thank you, Sunny, and to apologize for those stupid comments I made about you not being much of a reporter anymore. You’re a hell of a newsperson, digging up the facts, putting them together—”

“And nearly getting killed for it,” Will put in, shooting an unfriendly glare at Sunny’s former beau.

“Thanks, Randall.” Sunny did her best to drown Will out.

“That’s not all I’m sorry for.” Considering that he was a guy who made his living with words, Randall seemed to have a hard time getting these ones out. Maybe it was Will’s hostile presence. “If things had been different . . .”

“An old J-school professor of mine once told me that ‘if’ is one of the most treacherous words in the English language,” she said gently , thinking, so he’s not eating crow in front of the Pulitzer committee, but it’s a lot more than I ever really expected.

“So is ‘regret’—but that doesn’t mean that even hard-boiled old editors don’t feel it sometimes.” Randall looked over at Will. “Good luck with the election.” Then he looked back at her. “Good-bye, Sunny.”

With that, Randall raced off to his keyboard. Will reached over and took her hand. Sunny wondered what kind of expression she must have on her face for him to look at her the way he was.

*

Soon enough, newscandals and disasters pushed the blackmail story into the category of old news. Augustus de Kruk’s publicity machine remained remarkably quiet on the subject, but obviously the de Kruk-Kingsbury merger was on hold indefinitely—at least, that’s what Eagle Eye had to say when the original wedding date came and went with no marriage.

Sunny knew that already; Robin Lory had told her. After her brief brush with the Kingsburys and de Kruks, Robin had a very proprietary feeling about the whole story.

So, Sunny, had to admit, did she—along with a very un-journalistic wish that Carson and Cillie might yet reach a happy ending after all. Maybe all the negative stuff about Uncle Cale will scare both families away, and it will come down to what Carson and Cillie want, Sunny thought. I guess I can only hope.