Эбби Луби - Nuclear Romance

“It’s me,” Diana said. Her tone was cool.

“Hey.”

It had been two days since they last spoke—the night he told her about being followed to the sex house. He respected her silence and hoped she would reach out to him. Her timing wasn’t great, but it was still good to hear her voice.

“I take it you’ve seen the Metro Record story by our own hometown girl Chrissy Dolan?” she said.

“Yeah. Owen’s pissed we were scooped. My batting average ain’t so good right now, all things considered.”

“Will you follow up?”

“Damn straight I will.”

“Are you okay? Want to talk later? E-mail?”

“Sure. Diana?”

“Yes?”

“Are things okay at school?” He hoped there was no blowback from their nocturnal escapade. The rumor mill at schools could be vicious.

“So far, everything’s quiet. I’ve moved past the anger, but I’m still on edge. I’m more worried about you.”

“Thanks. But listen. This stuff happens all the time. Papers get scooped but then they can write a better follow-up story. Owen’s such a lunatic. He’s stretching me thin and wants me to be in two places at the same time. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Sounds stressful.”

“Yeah. Gotta go. Can I call you later?”

He hung up and immediately punched in Bob’s number only to get his voice mail. He tried Bob’s cell phone, but no luck. He called the county executive, Al Kresch, who said he would e-mail him a prepared statement.

Lou called Dan Lipsey, the ALLPower man quoted in Chrissy’s story. The phone rang several times before he finally answered.

“Mr. Lipsey? Lou Padera here from the Daily Suburban . I have a few questions about the underground lakes.”

“That story in the Metro Record is bogus. I have no comment.”

“What do you mean, ‘bogus’? Are you saying it’s not true?”

“I have no comment.”

“Mr. Lipsey, if you’re saying the lakes don’t exist, now’s your chance to say so publicly and discount that story. The public needs to hear your voice, don’t you think?”

There was momentary silence.

“There’s no lakes. That’s it. No lakes.”

“What about the size? How did Chrissy Dolan get those measurements?”

He heard the man flip open a cigarette lighter, his voice muffled as he lit up.

“We’re really just guessing. We don’t know the real parameters of what’s leaking underground.”

“So there is leaking below the plant, you just don’t know to what extent or how much is feeding into the lakes?”

“Not lakes. Plumes.”

“What’s the difference?”

Lou heard the man blow smoke into the phone.

“The water is leaching into layers of bedrock—it’s not a large body of water, it’s more like water in and around the layers of rock.”

“Is that how you explained it to Chrissy Dolan?”

“She got it all wrong. Look, Mr. Padera. I’ve said more than I should have.”

“Wait. Can I quote everything you’ve told me?”

The phone went dead.

The NRC was no better.

“Yeah, we know about the plumes,” Dick Isling drawled into the phone. “But this is the first time I heard it called ‘lakes.’ Check with our NRC inspector who is stationed right there at the plant.”

The NRC inspector at ALLPower couldn’t verify the actual size of the lakes.

“We have rough measurements of how much water is leaking out, but nothing conclusive about the volume of water. Sorry, that’s all I know right now.”

Lou wasn’t getting any real facts. He tried Bob again,—not that he would shed any real light on the story. If he couldn’t get a quote from the bastard, he would go with Lipsey’s statement and assume it was on the record.

A few hours later Lou looked at his notes. His story didn’t add up to a pile of beans, and there wasn’t much in the way of new information. He rummaged through a pile of business cards. It would be a desperate call.

An hour later Lou sat down at a table in a coffee shop on the other side of town.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” he said to Chrissy.

“No problem. What’s on your mind?”

Lou’s call caught Chrissy off guard. She was trying to regain her composure from just being fired, a secret she hoped to keep as long as possible.

Lou guessed she’d gotten the ax. One week she was headlined on the front page, and the next she’d sold a story to a big city tabloid. If she hadn’t quit, for sure she’d been fired.

Alternately, Chrissy thought Lou might be out of a job, something Bob assured her would happen when she told him about his nocturnal jaunt with Diana. Maybe Lou wanted her contact at the Metro Record .

“A few things,” he said cautiously. “First, congrats on breaking the ‘radiated lakes’ story. I like the spin. It took a lot of guts, especially since it can’t be verified.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you questioning the validity of my story? A story right under your nose you didn’t even know about?”

For a pretty girl, she looked downright ugly.

“Let’s not get off on the wrong foot here,” he said. “Yeah, I’m miffed. Worse, my job is on the line because of your story. Either everyone at ALLPower is lying to me, or they lied to you. I’m hoping it’s the latter.”

“They are backpedaling Lou, can’t you see that? They are trying to discount my story and want you to help them do it.”

“Did they show you anything? A map? Blueprints? Scientific records?”

She felt a sheer sense of power—she knew something about the power plant the great Lou Padera didn’t. Suddenly she got cocky.

“So how’s Diana?”

He froze.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. You love birds visit the most interesting places, especially one in Pennsylvania. The Bearded Iris, is it?”

So she was the one who was following him.

“The real question is why the hell are you following people around in the middle of the night? Is that your take on investigative reporting?” He fought to keep a lid on his anger.

“I was curious. And motivated. Not that I need the payback now.”

“Payback? Someone put you up to this for some kind of reward?”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t really matter now. I got what I wanted. A byline in the big leagues.”

You smug little bitch. “Well, if your deal was with that turd Bob Stalinsky, you’ll be happy to know he’s already squealed to my boss. I can just see him groveling at your feet, handing you a line as if you were the new high priestess of journalism, promising you anything and everything. Bet those promises are gone, now that you turned on him with your lake story. Just what were you expecting for your choice piece of gossip, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Your job.”

She sipped her coffee, eyes on him.

“Jesus. You’re way too young to be so cutthroat. I gotta tell you—your writing has come a long way, but Sweetie Pie, there’s a lot of room for improvement. A lot more.”

“Gee, you really think so? I’m writing for a big city tabloid now.”

“Yeah, a tabloid that’s known as a picture paper with copy geared for ten-year-olds. Just how much was rewritten by the editors? I’d love to see your original submission.”

Her words started before she could think.

“Don’t fuck with me. You’re just another puffed-up news guy, overconfident and oversexed. You may have years of experience over me, but that doesn’t mean you know it all. I may be young, but I’m not stupid.”

Lou leaned across the table, inches away from her face.

“There’s no reason for you to be so bitchy. Burning your bridges is ill advised in this business, but I suppose you’ll learn that eventually. As for me and Diana? No one really gives a shit.”