“I don’t understand.”
Kit played with the strap of her purse. “My boss, the features editor, asked to see an early draft, which I thought was kind of odd. He knows I still want to conduct a couple more interviews and he’s always been good about waiting until I’m done. So, I sent him what I had so far. Then, he wanted to see all my research. I gave it to him, thinking I was in trouble with one of the fact checkers. But no. They did a catch and kill on me.”
“A catch and kill?” Now dread filled Wren’s belly.
“Yeah. He told me to drop the story, said we won’t be publishing it. He wouldn’t go into why, just said it didn’t fit theMarkeranymore, which is bullshit.” She twisted the purse strap around her hand.
“I have a feeling that editorial decision comes from higher up, maybe even the publisher himself. I can’t sell the story to another paper without losing my job. Though, after this, it’s tempting just to quit.” She laughed bitterly. “Can’t afford to lose my medical insurance though.”
Wren scoffed. “Can you say ironic?”
“Right?” Kit sighed.
Wren seethed. “This isn’t fair. You’re right—this is total bullshit. People need to know about this…thispredatoryhospital. Who do you think told the publisher to kill it?”
Kit blew out a hard breath and stared at Wren’s coffee table, looking like she was debating with herself. Then she nodded slightly and looked at Wren.
“My boss was excited when I first pitched the story and whenever I gave him an update on my progress. But when I let him know at our last meeting that I wanted to interview Milestone’s CEO, that’s when he got back to me saying he wanted to read my current draft. Next thing I knew, the story was dead.”
They were silent for a moment, both staring off into the distance, sharing their anger.
“Dead for you, maybe,” Wren said quietly.
Kit curled her lips in and huffed through her nose. “So, are you saying that if you were walking somewhere, eyes on the ground, and you happened to see a thumb drive just lying there, you’d get curious, pick it up, and see what’s on it?”
“I would.”
“And, let’s say it was full of research on a story you’d just photographed.”
“Well. I think I might take up writing or find someone who knows how to write up a feature already.”
“Interesting.” Kit stood up. “Well, it’s been great catching up with you but I’ve got to run. I’ll see myself out.”
As she walked toward the front door, she reached into the front pocket of her purse, then stretched her arm straight out to the side and opened her hand. A thumb drive bounced on the carpet.
“Oops,” Kit said without slowing her stride. “Clumsy.”
Wren didn’t waste time picking up the drive, or her breath telling Kit she’d dropped it. She stood in her doorway watching Kit walk away.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Wren said. “It’s been educational.”
Kit turned and waved. “Can’t wait to see your next project.”
EIGHTEEN
Wren stood in the middle of her living room and studied the thumb drive lying on her palm.
Two hours later, back at Elias’ house, she finished looking at Kit’s research, which came to the same conclusion she’d reached. She stared at the name on the screen as if it were at the end of a tunnel. Don Weisser. CEO of Milestone Hospital.
And a right bastard.
Then there was the second name, one she hadn’t thought of. But it all made sense.
Her head throbbed. Wren was beyond mad. Beyond furious.
She needed to talk to someone. To do something. Elias was busy with his shift and she didn’t want to bother him.
I’ll talk to him tonight. Maybe he and his friends can help. She grinned.They kinda owe me one.
