Exclusive

Daily grunted. “How come you’re so rusty on this? Where were you when this was going on? It wasn’t that long ago.”

“Howie was mad at me for something or other, so he had me covering alleged misconduct in professional wrestling. I missed out on Bondurant’s return and then his split from Washington.”

“Actually, there wasn’t much to miss. Bondurant had every reporter in Washington frustrated. He dodged cameras and granted no interviews. The tabloids printed their usual tripe, but of course they didn’t give the true story.”

“What was the true story?”

“I don’t know. But if Merritt had thought that Bondurant was humping the First Lady, why would he have picked him to lead that rescue mission? He made Bondurant a national hero. That doesn’t sound like the act of a jealous husband, does it?”

Daily wagged his index finger at her. “And there’s another fact you’ve got wrong. The President didn’t fire him. Following the mission, he asked Bondurant to resume his position at the White House. Bondurant said, ‘Thank you, but no.’ ”

“How do you know all this?”

“You’re not the only one with sources, missy. I may have one foot in the grave, but the other one is still welcome in several camps in Washington.”

“If you’re so in-the-know, where is Bondurant now?”

“He moved someplace out West. To one of those square states.”

Chapter Eight

She went so far as to invite him to lunch. They went to his favorite deli. She even let him eat before pleading her case.

“Please, Howie. Give me the green light. A few days should do it.”

He mopped up the juice from his meatball sandwich with the last scrap of bread and stuffed it into his mouth. Chewing, he said, “Travel’s expensive, you know. We’ve got no budget for it.”

“I’ll pay as I go with my own money. I’ll keep receipts. The station can reimburse me later. But only if I produce the story.”

She hoped this self-sacrifice would win him over. It also heightened her incentive to produce an exclusive that would electrify the nation, which she believed she was on the brink of doing. Only a story of this magnitude would have compelled her to break bread with Howie Fripp.

He ruminated—on a raw onion and her request. “Where are you going?”

“I can’t say.”

“You expect me to give you the go-ahead when you won’t tell me where you’re going or what the story is?”

“It’s explosive. Secrecy is the key to breaking it.” She lowered her voice to a hush and leaned in closer, although the onion and garlic fumes emanating from his mouth caused her eyes to tear. “If word got out that I was working on this, it could be dangerous for anyone who knew.”

“Gimme a break,” he moaned. “Why don’t you try selling that crock of shit over at NBC? Some schmuck over there might actually buy it.”

“Thanks, Howie. I was hoping you’d say that.” She reached for her satchel.

At first taken aback, Howie narrowed his eyes shrewdly. “How come you’re not sore?”

“Because now I can go to Jenkins with a clear conscience. I didn’t want to jump the chain of command, so I asked you first. Since you’ve denied my request, I’m clear to go to the G.M.”

The mention of WVUE’s general manager struck terror in Howie Fripp’s heart. “Jenkins will back my decision,” he said, feigning confidence. “He’ll laugh himself sick because you had the gall to ask for travel time.”

“I don’t think so,” Barrie said cheerfully. “Didn’t I tell you about the memo he wrote me?”

Howie narrowed his eyes again.

“It was a glowing review of my SIDS series. He wants me to do more special reports like that. He says my talent is being squandered on crap stories. He’d also like me to do some public service programming. Maybe some outside p.r., too, like personal appearances, speeches, things like that.” She frowned. “I thought he would have mentioned it to you by now. No? Well, I guess he’s just so busy, he hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”

She was making it up as she went along, but he was swallowing it. “I’ll think about it,” he grumbled.

“No need. Really. Forget it. I’ll just take it up with Jenkins.”