In her office, she closed her door, set her breakfast aside, her blood pulsing with the thrill of a news story, and fired up e-mail.
Deanna Robertson was her girl on the ground in Brighton. She worked at theInformant, but Gigi had launched the woman’s career when she came begging to write for thePostright after college. Deanna was well connected too.
Then there was Madeline Stone. Goodness, how could she forget Maddie? She was the cohost of the popularMadeline & Hyacinth Live!show—Gigi caught an episode on YouTube now and then—but ten years ago, Maddie was aBeaumont Postintern.
If Deanna and Maddie came up empty, Gigi would widen her reach to London and New York, but for now these two carefully selected, well-paid informants would serve nicely. She sent a private e-mail to Deanna, then Madeline, with her clandestine subject line.
Subject: Love this recipe!
On the DL. Corina Del Rey, an international socialite, is also aBeaumont Poststaffer. She attended Knoxton University, you may recall, and freelanced for me.
I would love some stories or tidbits about her. Where she lived, who she socialized with, how she got on in the aristocratic world of Cathedral City.
Any ideas, connections, thoughts? I believe there’s a story here. Just can’t get a thread to pull. Your help is greatly valued and will be well compensated.
Sincerely,
GB
SEVEN
Friday morning, Stephen walked the beach, his phone pressed to his ear, waiting for his brother to come on.
He leaned into the stiff breeze and listened to the rumble of waves crashing down on the shore. The storm—Anna, was that it?—was making her way ashore.
He wanted to leave this afternoon, before the storm locked them in, and had Thomas on the telly with the pilot to lay a plan, but he must get Corina’s signature before he left or he feared he’d never get it.
Corina.This jaunt to America was to be simple with a defined task. “Please sign these annulment papers.”But whatever possessed him to believe such a thing would be simple? Without complications?
Careful of his ankle, freed from his walking boot, Stephen’s footsteps sank into the cool wet sand, the wind pressing his Brighton Eagles T-shirt against his chest.Blimey, Nathaniel, did they have to track you to the loo?
“Stephen?” Finally!
“What took you so long?”
“On another call. So how’re you getting on with Corina?”
Stephen ran his hand through his hair, facing the wind. “They’re predicting a tropical storm here.”
“Is that some kind of sign? You’re experiencing a storm with Corina?”
“She won’t sign.”
“She what? Why not?”
“Said she wants me to find out what happened to her brother.” Stephen sank a little deeper as the waves washed the soft sand from under his feet.
Nathaniel whistled. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her I don’t know anything. She argued my brother is the king and I have access to the Defense Ministry, so I can find out.”
“Stephen, the events of that day are sealed. You know what’s at risk. Mum doesn’t even know the details.”
“Don’t preach to me. I’m giving you an update. Besides the details being a matter of national security, and I dare say my future in rugby, I don’t want to tell her. If she hates me now, she’ll despise me with the whole truth.” And rightfully so. He believed that with his whole being.
“Not to mention she’s a member of the media. Didn’t you say she works forBeaumont?”
“She’d not betray us, Nathaniel. She’s not the sort.”
