“That would be me. And you know why? Because I can trust her to think of more than ratings. That relationship is why whoever leaked this saw that the story went to her. That’s your kind of maneuver, Chang.”
The hand around the throat image was appealing enough that she used it herself. She caught him one-handed, rapped him back into the wall, and lifted him to his toes. “All this spin, all this storm, all this fallout. That’s going to keep you a very busy boy for a while, isn’t it?”
“Get your hands off me. I’ll have you arrested for assault.”
“Yeah, you can bet a whole squad of cops is going to rush in here to save your oily ass from me. You’re going to get a lot of play out of this—fees, bonuses. Add screwing me over to the pie, and it’s real tasty. Did you leak the story, Chang?”
He was turning an interesting shade of puce as he batted and shoved at her hand. “Get away, get away!”
“Did you leak the goddamn story?”
“No! This isn’t something you leak until you’re prepared. Until the spin is in place. You leaked it.”
“No, I didn’t.” She released him so that he dropped to the flats of his feet with two sharp thuds. “Think about that. Now get the hell out of my office.”
“I’m filing a complaint.” He yanked at his collar. “You’ll read the statement or—”
“Bite me,” she suggested and shoved him out bodily.
“That was very entertaining,” Roarke commented.
“We’re not done yet. Act two should be starting any minute.”
“Until it does . . .” He smoothed his fingers over the ends of her hair, then slid his hand around the back of her neck. She stiffened, looked so mortally embarrassed that he laughed. “What?”
“I’m on duty here. Just back off. Really.” She turned away quickly and moved to the AutoChef. Even as she programmed coffee, she heard the fast, hard click of high heels. “That’s my cue.”
Franco sw
ept in. She looked every bit as furious as Chang had, if more elegant. “Lieutenant Dallas.” She bit down on the words as if she could chew them to bits. She gave Roarke a brisk nod. “I’m sorry, but I need to speak with the lieutenant privately.”
“Of course.”
“You may want to go give Feeney a hand, Conference Room B,” Eve told him. “He’s working on some tech stuff you’d be interested in. One level down,” Eve added. “Sector Five.”
“All right. I’ll leave you ladies to your business.” With one casual glance at Eve, he slipped out, closed the door.
“You’ve gone too far this time.” Unlike Chang, Franco kept her voice down, and controlled.
“In what area?”
“Who are you to decide Mayor Peachtree is guilty, to leak information that will ruin his political career, damage his personal life. And all before you’ve so much as questioned him. You gave him no chance to defend himself.”
“Leaking the story screwed him pretty good, didn’t it? Coffee?”
“You dare stand there, so arrogant, so goddamn cocky after what you’ve done?”
“Yeah. Same as you.” Eve leaned back on the AutoChef, sipped her coffee. “You leaked the story, Franco.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, neither are you. You’re a very smart woman. What I can’t figure is if you did all this, formed your organization, killed people, ruined a number of lives because you wanted to smear Peachtree or you really believed in what you were doing. I’ve thought about that a lot this morning, but I’m just not sure. I think it was both.”
“If you think you can save yourself by painting me with the same brush you’re using to paint the mayor, you’re very wrong.”
“He didn’t make the transmissions.”
“What are you talking about?”