Hard News (Rune 3)

"How come everybody talks about her like she's some kind of dragon lady?"

The Model exhaled a sharp laugh through his nose. "I like you, Rune, which is why I'm not going to ruin your evening by telling you anything more about Piper Sutton."

chapter 3

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" THE WOMAN'S RASPY ALTO VOICE barked. "Who are you?"

She was in her early forties, with a handsome, broad, stern face. Her skin was dry and she wore subtle, powdery makeup. Eyes: deep gray-blue. Her hair was mostly blonde though it was masterfully highlighted with silver streaks. The strands were frozen in place with spray.

Rune walked up to the desk and crossed her arms. "I--"

The phone rang and Piper Sutton turned away, snagged the receiver. She listened, frowning.

"No," she said emphatically. Listened a moment more. Uttered a more ominous "No."

Rune glanced at her cream-colored suit and burgundy silk blouse. Her shoes were black and glistened fiercely. Names like Bergdorf, Bendel and Ferragamo came to mind but Rune had no idea which name went with which article of clothing. The woman sat behind a large antique desk, under a wall filled with blotched and squiggly modern paintings and framed photos of Sutton shaking hands with or embracing a couple of presidents and some other distinguished, gray-haired men.

The phone conversation continued and Rune wa

s completely ignored. She looked around.

Two of the walls in the office were floor-to-ceiling windows, looking west and south. It was on the forty-fifth floor of the Network's parent company building, a block away from the studio. Rune stared at a distant horizon that might have been Pennsylvania. Across from the desk was a bank of five 27-inch NEC monitors, each one tuned to a different network station. Though the volume was down, their busy screens fired an electronic hum into the air.

"Then do it," the woman snapped and dropped the phone into the cradle.

She looked back at Rune, cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay. What it is is this: I'm a cameraman for the local station and I--"

Sutton's voice rose with gritty irritation. "Why are you here? How did you get in?" Questions delivered so fast it was clear she had a lot more where they came from.

Rune could have told her she snuck in after Sutton's secretary went into the corridor to buy tea from the ten A.M. coffee service cart. But all she said was "There was nobody outside and I--"

Sutton waved a hand to silence her. She grabbed the telephone receiver and stabbed the intercom button. There was a faint buzz from the outer office. No one answered. She hung up the phone.

Rune said, "Anyway, I--"

Sutton said, "Anyway, nothing. Leave." She looked down at the sheet of paper she'd been reading, brows narrowing in concentration. After a moment she looked up again, genuinely surprised Rune was still there.

"Miss Sutton ... Ms. Sutton," Rune began. "I've got this, like, idea--"

"A like idea? What is a like idea?"

Rune felt a blush crawl across her face.

"I have an idea for a story I'd like to do. For your show. I--"

"Wait." Sutton slapped her Mont Blanc pen onto the desk. "I don't understand what you're doing here. I don't know you."

Rune said, "Just give me a minute, please."

"I don't have time for this. I don't care if you work here or not. You want me to call security?" The phone rose once more.

Rune paused a moment. Took a figurative breath. Okay, she told herself, do it. She said quickly, "Current Events came in at number nine in nationwide viewership according to the CBS/TIME poll last week." She struggled to keep her voice from quavering. "Three months ago it was rated five in the same poll. That's quite a drop."

Sutton's unreadable eyes bore into Rune's. Oh, Christ, am I really saying these things? But there was nothing to do but keep going. "I can turn those ratings in the other direction."

Sutton looked at Rune's necklace ID badge. Oh, brother. I'm going to get fired. (Rune got fired with great regularity. Usually her reaction was to say, "Them's the breaks," and head off to Unemployment. Today she prayed this wouldn't happen.) The telephone went back into the cradle. Sutton said, "You've got three minutes."