Casanova(31)

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t be.” I pulled my phone out of my purse and opened my calendar. Two minutes later, I had both assignments written in.

It was a strange feeling. I usually marched to the beat of my own drum, but I quite liked being told where to be and what to cover. It saved me time, and, well. Mr. Reeves was a nice guy, and if I could help him get his paper back on track, I would.

“There. Now I won’t forget.” I smiled and awkwardly showed him the calendar screen.

“Perfect,” he said as I locked the phone and put it back into my purse. “Now, the real reason for why I wanted to meet with you today...it’s about the Walkers.”

I blinked, momentarily taken back. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is my agreement with William Walker going to get in the way of my work for you?”

He laughed. “No, dear. Quite the opposite. It’s going to be helpful. Very helpful indeed.”

That sounded kinda sinister. You know, like in the movies. It’s the kind of thing the double-crossing sidekick says right before they show their true colors, or the words the villain utters moments before blowing up the local Wal-Mart or something.

My stomach tightened, but ultimately, my curiosity was stronger and more convincing than my wariness. “Okay,” I said slowly. “Can you explain?”

He picked up the remote control for the TV and turned it off. The silence hung thick in the air until he cleared his throat, closed his laptop, and met my eyes. “There’s been rumors about Brett Walker for some time now.”

“Some time now?”

“Months,” he corrected himself. “Not many people have heard about this one.”

“Okay...” My stomach flipped again.

“Word is he fucked up big time and it cost his family a lot of money to cover it up,” Mr. Reeves went on. “I’ve been trying to find out what it was, but not only are they notoriously tight-lipped about the inner happenings of their family, it’s almost impossible to find out anything more than what I know. Which happens to be nothing more than there is something major they paid a lot of money to bury.”

The lump in my throat formed quickly and fiercely. Swallowing it was impossible—It was lodged there. “Where do I come into this?” I asked, my voice quiet.

“You have the inside line to the family. Camille trusts you—they all trust you. They might tell you...things.”

“Mr. Reeves, my job is to make Brett look good. They’re not going to tell me anything that could destroy what I’m trying to do.” Even all the shit Camille told me was nothing more than harmless gossip, and she knows it. She simply wanted it to come from her and not the grapevine. “I don’t see how I can help here.”

He rubbed his hand across his jaw. “I think you can. You’ll be in the house, Lani. Alone, presumably, on occasion.”

Alone was a stretch, but still...

“If what he did is as bad as it sounds, and I believe it is, then Brett Walker will get a real taste of karma.” He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk. “My research so far has pulled up nothing more than kiss and tell stories from disgruntled women.”

“And you think what they’re hiding is more than kiss and tell?” I asked slowly.

“Much more.”

“And you want me to find out what that is.”

He jerked his head in a sharp nod, almost knocking his glasses off his face. He reached up and slid them back into place. “Yes.”

“What will happen when I do?” I already knew the answer, but I asked it anyway.

“I’ll know where to look for the proof and then I can publish it.”

My heart clenched. Deep down inside me, I wanted to do it. What was wrong with me? This was a horrible thing to do, but did he deserve it?

Maybe.

Mr. Reeves leaned forward slightly. “Lani, if he’s done something bad, the people of Whiskey Key need to know. He’ll one day own the company that, at present, owns sixty percent of the town’s buildings. The people of Whiskey Key deserve to know.”

“Okay,” I said. There was way more strength in my voice than I thought there would be. “I’ll see if I can find anything out. But if I don’t, I don’t. If they’ve already buried something, there’s no need to talk about it.”

“No pressure,” he said, sitting back.

No pressure my left tit.

“Okay,” I replied quietly. “Was that everything?”

He nodded. “Thank you, Lani. This will help a lot.”

I’m sure it will, I wanted to say. But I didn’t. I confirmed I’d cover the paint run at the weekend and email him the article the following day, and then I left. Something gnawed away at my insides, a feeling I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it, and it was most definitely connected to the fact I’d just agreed to do something so...underhanded.

I knew the Walkers had a secret. I could sense there was something they weren’t telling anybody and figured it was about Brett, but I thought it was more on the stupid side of the scale than the serious one. If I was wrong...would the revelation of such a thing hurt the entire family and not just Brett himself?

The chance was a good one. Pretty damn solid, actually, but then again...Maybe Brett did deserve it. Maybe he needed to be given a taste of his own medicine and be humiliated.