“The council thing is a big part of it, though…” Jeremy demurred.
“Surely you’ve got enough with the protection racket and all the rest of it? Can’t you stick with that? Spill the beans about Rocky’s part in it all, and mention that he employs runaway mental cases, or whatever that girl is? That’s enough, Jeremy. It really has to be. Because if you decide to involve Daddy…”
Jeremy let that thought hang in the air for a couple of beats.
“What?” he asked softly.
“I…won’t love you anymore. Does it mean anything to you, that I’d sacrifice Rocky so you can have your moment of glory? I’d do that for you. Rocky is nothing to me now.”
Jeremy considered this proposition, frowning at the unopened beer can.
“Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”
Laura put a shaking hand on his thigh.
“My hero,” she said, before kissing him tenderly on the lips.
Chapter Nine
“Good morning, Goldsands Gazette, Lynda speaking, how may I help you?”
Michelle put a hand over her mouth, trying to mask her sudden shuddering breath. It wouldn’t do for the receptionist to think she had some kind of pervert on the line. Though actually…
She swallowed a bubble of hysterical laughter, drew a breath and uncovered her mouth.
“Hello, yes, I need to speak to a reporter, please. I think I have a story they might be interested in.”
“Okay, is it about a local event?”
“A…local event?”
“Y’know, fete, school concert, charity fun run…?”
“Oh, no, no. It’s something that needs to be looked into. Investigated.”
“Oh, right. Hold on a second. I’ll see if anyone’s free.”
Placed on hold, Michelle contemplated ending the call, but somehow the soothing sounds of Fleetwood Mac’s “Albatross” coming through the receiver calmed her into waiting.
“Hi again.” Lynda the receptionist again, sounding mildly flustered. “Sorry, could you give me an idea of what you want to talk about? Is it to do with something controversial, for instance, or a campaign or some kind?”
“I think controversial about covers it,” Michelle said with a bark of a laugh. “If I said the name Charles Cordwainer…” She bit her lip, waiting for the light to dawn.
“Oh. Just a moment, please.”
The albatross batted lazy wings through the blue skies for another few minutes, then the phone was snatched up and Michelle heard a hubbub of background voices before a man spoke.
“Hello, my name’s Jeremy Weill. You have a story regarding Charles Cordwainer?”
“Yes, I do. Could I meet with you, please? I don’t feel I can really do this over the phone.”
“Of course. Are you in Goldsands?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s a good place for you? Could I come to your home?”
Michelle baulked