For the Record (Record #3)(94)
“Well, still . . . thank you.” She could feel her cheeks burning under his gaze. She held no lingering feelings for Hayden, but it was clear that he still cared for her. And he was doing this because of that.
“Don’t thank me yet. We have to stop her first.”
“What exactly are we stopping her from doing?” Brady asked, pushing off of the wall and leaning over the desk.
“The specifics I don’t have. I only know what I heard and have gathered from this,” he said, pointing at that paperwork. “I overheard Calleigh on the phone a couple times in the past few weeks talking about an ad spot, and Brady’s name came up. It was never anything solid, and over the past couple weeks I debated messaging you again to let you know that she was planning something. But you said I needed evidence, and I got you some.”
He slid the manila envelope across the table to Liz and Brady. She opened it and saw that there was a small stack of Calleigh’s emails. Liz’s eyes widened. “How did you get these?”
“Calleigh had a computer glitch one day and came into my office freaking out. She asked me to look at it. When I didn’t immediately fix the issue she got irritated and said she was going to see if anyone from IT was back from lunch. I tinkered with the computer a few minutes and got it running again. When everything came back up that email was on the screen. I’d heard Calleigh mention the name Ted before, and I saw that it matched the email address. So, I just printed the whole conversation and hoped that was enough.” Hayden sighed. “I’ve read it all. It doesn’t detail exactly what the ad spot is for, but they’re filming something negative. And she has a meeting with this Ted person tomorrow in Greensboro.”
“Hmmm . . . I have an idea.” Both guys looked at her skeptically. “You’re not going to like it.”
Liz stood in front of a large gray building, staring up at the small gold plaque that announced it was a production studio. Strange place for a meeting, but a perfect place to film an ad spot. She hoped that she was making the right decision.
Her hair was slicked back into a ponytail and she was wearing dark jeans and a blazer. Her voice recorder was tucked into her front pocket—conveniently hidden from sight. She switched it on before walking inside and felt the familiar flutter of butterflies at what she was about to do.
She squared her shoulders and hoped she looked confident and professional. Then she pulled open the heavy door and walked inside. A receptionist was on hand. Her face was buried in her computer, and from what Liz could gather she was playing a computer game rather than working. Perfect.
“Excuse me,” Liz said, drawing the woman’s attention.
“Yes. Sorry. How can I help you?”
Liz took a deep breath. “I’m here to see Ted. I have an appointment with Miss Hollingsworth.”
The woman checked her computer and seemed to confirm that both Ted and Calleigh were supposed to be here today. “Oh, you’re right on time. Ted is already in the studio.” The woman stood, waved her card across the door, and opened it for her. “All the way to the back.”
Liz thanked her and then quickly passed through the door before the woman could reconsider. She made her way down the hallway. The door was closed, but there was a window that Liz could peek through. There was a guy sitting in a chair who she assumed was Ted, a few cameramen, and a handful of women off to the side. One woman was standing in front of the camera. No one looked familiar. No Calleigh.
As quickly as she could, she pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the room, zooming in on the faces of the people standing around, and then the sign next to the room. It read CT AD SPOT and underneath it LEAD: CALLEIGH HOLLINGSWORTH. CT . . . hmm. Probably Charlotte Times. Did the paper know what she was doing or had Calleigh just used their name?
Liz pocketed her phone again and backtracked down the hallway. She peeked into some of the rooms. Most were empty. Few people used a production company on a Sunday afternoon. Where was Calleigh?
She heard the door opening behind her and swiveled. Calleigh stormed through the front entrance, all flowing red hair and tight black clothing. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Liz.
“What the f*ck are you doing here?” Calleigh demanded.
A smile spread on Liz’s face. “We need to talk.”
Calleigh glanced uneasily down the hallway to the production studio. “How the hell did you know I would be here? Are you stalking me?”
“No. I just came here to talk to you. Can we have a minute or do you have to be in production?” Liz asked casually.
“What do you know about the production?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Perhaps that’s something we could talk about.” Liz gestured to a few of the empty rooms.
Calleigh seemed to be deciding whether or not it was worth it to ignore her. “Fine,” she muttered, and walked into the nearest room. She plopped down into a chair and Liz took the one opposite her. “So, what is all this about?”
“I could ask you the same thing. You do realize what you’re getting yourself involved in, right?” Liz asked.
“I’m not getting involved in anything,” Calleigh said, crossing her arms.
“Sure. You know, when this blows up, it’s blowing up in your face. You’re going to take the fall. Your name is on that door.” Liz pointed back out to the hallway.