The Best Laid Plans

Chapter 8

Washington, D.C., was a much larger city than Dana had imagined. This was the power center of the world, and Dana could feel the electricity in the air. This is where I belong, she thought happily.

Her first move was to check into the Stouffer Renaissance Hotel. She looked up the address of the Washington Tribune and headed there. The Tribune was located on 6th Street and took up the entire block. It consisted of four separate buildings that seemed to reach to infinity. Dana found the main lobby and confidently walked up to the uniformed guard behind the desk.

"Can I help you, miss?"

"I work here. That is, I work for the Tribune. I'm here to see Matt Baker."

"Do you have an appointment?"

Dana hesitated. "Not yet, but - "

"Come back when you have one." He turned his attention to several men who had come up to the desk.

"We have an appointment with the head of the circulation department," one of the men said.

"Just a moment, please." The guard dialed a number.

In the background, one of the elevators had arrived and people were getting out. Dana casually headed for it. She stepped inside, praying that it would go up before the guard noticed her. A woman got into the elevator and pressed the button, and they started up.

"Excuse me," Dana said. "What floor is Matt Baker on?"

"Third." She looked at Dana. "You're not wearing a pass."

"I lost it," Dana said.

When the elevator reached the third floor, Dana got out. She stood there, speechless at the scale of what she was seeing. She was looking at a sea of cubicles. It seemed as though there were hundreds of them, occupied by thousands of people. There were different-colored signs over each cubicle, EDITORIAL...ART...METRO...SPORTS...CALENDAR...

Dana stopped a man hurrying by. "Excuse me. Where's Mr. Baker's office?"

"Matt Baker?" He pointed. "Down at the end of the hall to the right, last door."

"Thank you."

As Dana turned, she bumped into an unshaven, rumpled-looking man carrying some papers. The papers fell to the floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was - "

"Why don't you look where the hell you're going?" the man snapped. He stooped to pick up the papers.

"It was an accident. Here. I'll help you. I - " Dana reached down, and as she started to pick up the papers, she knocked several sheets under a desk.

The man stopped to glare at her. "Do me a favor. Don't help me anymore."

"As you like," Dana said icily. "I just hope everyone in Washington isn't as rude as you."

Haughtily, Dana rose and walked toward Mr. Baker's office. The legend on the glass window read MATT BAKER. The office was empty. Dana walked inside and sat down. Looking through the office window, she watched the frenetic activity going on.

It's nothing like the Claremont Examiner, she thought. There were thousands of people working here. Down the corridor, the grumpy, rumpled-looking man was heading toward the office.

No! Dana thought. He's not coming in here. He's on his way somewhere else -

And the man walked in the door. His eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Dana swallowed. "You must be Mr. Baker," she said brightly. "I'm Dana Evans."

"I asked you what you're doing here."

"I'm a reporter with the Claremont Examiner."

"And?"

"You just bought it."

"I did?"

"I - I mean the newspaper bought it. The newspaper bought the newspaper." Dana felt it was not going well. "Anyway, I'm here for a job. Of course, I already have a job here. It's more like a transfer, isn't it?"

He was staring at her.

"I can start right away." Dana babbled on. "That's no problem."

Matt Baker moved toward the desk. "Who the hell let you in here?"

"I told you. I'm a reporter for the Claremont Examiner and - "

"Go back to Claremont," he snapped. "Try not to knock anyone down on your way out."

Dana rose and said stiffly, "Thank you very much, Mr. Baker. I appreciate your courtesy." She stormed out of the office.

Matt Baker looked after her, shaking his head. The world was full of weirdos.

Dana retraced her steps to the huge editorial room, where dozens of reporters were typing out stories on their computers. This is where I'm going to work, Dana thought fiercely. Go back to Claremont. How dare he!

As Dana looked up, she saw Matt Baker in the distance, moving in her direction. The damned man was everywhere! Dana quickly stepped behind a cubicle so he could not see her.

Baker walked past her to a reporter seated at a desk. "Did you get the interview, Sam?"

"No luck. I went to the Georgetown Medical Center, and they said there's nobody registered by that name. Tripp Taylor's wife isn't a patient there."

Matt Baker said, "I know damn well she is. They're covering something up, dammit. I want to know why she's in the hospital."

"If she is in there, there's no way to get to her, Matt."

"Did you try the flower delivery routine?"

"Sure. It didn't work."

Dana stood there watching Matt Baker and the reporter walk away. What kind of reporter is it, Dana wondered, who doesn't know how to get an interview?

Thirty minutes later, Dana was entering the Georgetown Medical Center. She went into the flower shop.

"May I help you?" a clerk asked.