Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry(58)

Tears gushed down her cheeks as her finger pushed SEND.





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Michael Carter could not escape the feeling of foreboding. He had to admit there was also a certain irony in his dilemma. His efforts to protect one of America’s foremost news organizations were potentially being undermined by a reporter or journalist or whatever she called herself. How did Gina Kane find out about Meg Williamson? He had contacted Lauren Pomerantz, who had given Meg’s name to him. He’d believed Lauren’s assurance that she had abided by her nondisclosure agreement, just as he’d believed Meg’s. Could Paula Stephenson or Cathy Ryan have reached out to Kane? He had no way of knowing. Did one of the other victims who’d settled talk to her? Maybe a victim he didn’t know about yet had opened up to her.

After viewing Meg Williamson’s Rye home, Gina had to know Meg had received a settlement. But is that all she knows? Did she go beyond asking questions about Cathy Ryan’s time at REL, and start digging into whatever happened in Aruba?

He considered keeping the information about Gina Kane’s inquiries to himself but decided against it. Why should I be the one doing all the worrying? he asked himself.

Opening his laptop, he began typing an email to Sherman, with the usual blind copy to Junior: “Houston, we have another problem.…”





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Gina spent the afternoon rereading the notes she had made from the Aruba trip a week and a half earlier, the “vacation” as Geoff had referred to it, and the ones she had jotted after her meeting with Meg Williamson. She was grateful for the periods of time, ten minutes just now, fifteen minutes earlier, when her mind focused on something other than Ted. You’ve got a job to do, she reminded herself. You can’t let your personal life interfere with that.

She had two decisions to make regarding Williamson. Did she tell her she was 100 percent sure that Cathy Ryan was murdered? She was virtually certain someone tampered with her Jet Ski, so it was almost the truth, she reasoned. Gina smiled as the reporter in her kicked in immediately. She could hear herself asking, “Will you please explain to me what you mean by ‘almost the truth’?”

The other challenge was how to reengage with her. Gina was convinced that Meg had been coached when she talked to her about Cathy Ryan being a troublemaker and difficult to work with at REL News. If she phoned or emailed and Meg made a date to see her again, whoever was coaching her would have an opportunity to prep her in advance. That assumed, of course, that Meg would agree to a second meeting. Gina recalled how abruptly and emphatically Meg had ended the interview at her home.

Another possibility was to surprise her and just show up, Gina thought. Show up where? Going to her house when the daughter’s there would be a mistake. She was a protective mother. She wouldn’t be able to focus on what Gina was saying if the whole time she was there Meg’s mind was on her daughter.

Gina assumed Meg worked conventional hours and finished around five to five-thirty. She must have an after-school sitter for her daughter. That would give them a little time to talk. If she insisted she had to go immediately to pick up her daughter, Gina would be ready with a response.

The tinkling noise from Gina’s phone signaled the arrival of a text. The sender was Ted! It was four-thirty. His plane must have just landed at JFK. Her breath caught in her chest as she read it.

Ha ha. Very funny. If this is your idea of an April fools joke, you’re off by 6 months. Confirm where and when tonight.

Oh my God, Gina thought. Could Ted possibly believe I was only joking? She looked at his text. He would always write “Love” or include a series of Xs and Os at the end. None of these were present. Ted must have some doubt, some suspicion that her text meant what she said.

She pictured him walking off the plane and down the long corridors at JFK, his tie loosened and lowered an inch, one hand pulling his rolling suitcase, the other holding his cell phone, glancing at the screen, waiting for the message that all was well, that his only problem was that his girlfriend, the woman he wanted to marry, had a weird sense of humor.

Unable to wait, he would try phoning. As if on cue, Gina’s cell phone began to vibrate on the table. She had forgotten to reset the ringer after this morning’s meeting. Less than a minute later her landline sounded. She put her head in her hands as she listened to the rings. Six long, loud ones with a pause between each. Her cheerful message followed by a beep.

“Call me” was all he said before hanging up.

I can’t be alone tonight, she decided. Gina dialed Lisa’s cell.

“Hey there. What’s up?” Lisa answered.

“If you’re not busy tonight, I could really use some fun company.”

“Sure, I’m free. I thought tonight was the big dinner for you and—”

“I’ll explain when I see you. Pedro’s at eight o’clock?”

“We’re on.”

“Oh, Lisa, one more thing. I told you I was working on a story about REL News.”

“You did. That they might have some MeToo issues at the company.”

“Have you told anybody else about what I’m working on?”

“No.”

“Good. Please keep it that way. See you tonight.”





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