Dirt (Stone Barrington 2)
Page 13
“Thank you for your candor. Now, why do you want to know who circulated this sheet?”
“Mr. Barrington, until very recently I was in negotiations for a new contract with my newspaper and their news syndicate. The fax arrived at a very awkward time, so much that I had to accelerate the negotiations, and at very great risk to my career.”
“How did the negotiations go?”
“I got exactly what I wanted.”
“Did your newspaper see this sheet before you reached agreement?”
“I very much doubt it; I moved too quickly for that.”
“So you are safe on that count, for the moment.”
“For the next four years. However, revelations of the sort in that sheet tend to undercut my credibility, and credibility is the basis of my success in my work.”
“I understand. So you would like me to try and stop this person or persons from doing this again?”
“No. You find out who it is, and I’ll do the stopping, believe me.”
“That sounds rather ominous, Ms. Dart. I hope you aren’t thinking of doing anything foolish.”
“I am not a foolish person, Mr. Barrington, I assure you.” She suddenly smiled. “And I would be pleased if you would call me Amanda.”
“Of course; please call me Stone.”
“Will you assist me in this matter, Stone?”
“If I may be sure of your continued full cooperation.”
“You may indeed.”
“Then I will begin by asking you a great many questions,” Stone said.
“Let’s get started,” Amanda replied.
Chapter 9
The gardens were lovely now, Amanda noticed, half in sunshine and half in shadow. A lone gardener knelt and pulled at weeds.
“Amanda?” Stone said quietly.
“I’m sorry,” Amanda replied, returning her full attention to him. “I was just admiring the light in the garden.”
“It is lovely, isn’t it?” Stone said. “I’ve sat whole days watching it.”
“Please ask me your questions,” Amanda said, crossing her legs and adjusting her skirt. She was aware of Stone’s glance at her legs, which she knew were one of her best features.
Stone knew he had been caught looking at her legs, but she didn’t seem to mind. “How many people knew you were going to spend the weekend at the Trent?” he asked.
“Only my secretary, Martha,” Amanda replied. “Martha always knows where I am, in case of emergency.”
“Last name?”
“McMahon.”
“And how long has Martha been with you?”
“For fifteen years; she’s my most trusted employee.”