“He turned down the story I was working on with Wes.”
“Shit.” Lisanne leaned against the counter. “I’m sorry. What are you going to do?”
What was she going to do? The question troubled Nadine as she went back to her desk later, after Lisanne was sure she was feeling better.
What was she going to do?
Daniel was worried she would embarrass John Wilson. Not that he should be held accountable.
He was concerned about her ability to see it through and her judgment. Forget that she was an experienced reporter with a proven track record.
Remember Dot Voline’s shameful obituary, he said. Not that this was a chance to fix it.
She stood up and ducked into a phone room, where she called Wes and gave him the rundown of her conversation with Daniel.
“What’s your plan?” he asked.
Nadine told him, and he laughed.
“I should have known.” He paused. “Are you sure? This won’t be easy.”
“I need to do it.”
“Okay, Barbault,” said Wes. “Then do it. I’ll be waiting for you.”
She hung up and opened her folder to the document she’d beenplaying with for three weeks. This time, Dot would have had nothing to complain about. The obituary was what Nadine wanted for theHerald. Featuring a photo of a very young Dot Voline that Brent had dug up from a family album, it was amusing and engaging yet respectful, briefly covering the significant milestones and impact of Dot’s long and illustrious career, particularly her early days as Mildred Cross working in politics before the Wilson travesty.
That was the first part. The second section was the part she put the finishing touches on now, laying out the proof of John Wilson’s misdeeds from Dot’s clues and the need for further inquiry into his actions. It was strong writing, and a persuasive story.
It was worthy of Dot Voline.
By the time she was three hours into her night shift, Nadine was the only one in the office. She pulled up Dot’s story and read it over. Did she have the courage to do what she needed to? She wavered. Perhaps she could try Daniel again. Wes was correct. She’d seen the viciousness with which Wilson reacted to threats. Although she’d been careful to keep the focus on Wilson’s treatment of Voline, the story demonstrated there needed to be further inquiry into his actions throughout his career and his alleged connections to organized crime. It was everything theSpearstory should have been.
“Wait.” The voice from behind her made Nadine almost fall off her chair.
“Irina?” Adrenaline caused the name to come out as a gasp.
“Wait. In another hour, it’s more likely management will be asleep and won’t see it to take it down.” Irina’s shawl was a deep crimson, and it was wrapped tightly around her body as if she was cold.
“How do you know what I’m doing?” Nadine was flabbergasted.
“Please. Give me some credit.”
True, Irina was omniscient.
“Why are you getting involved?”
Irina looked down her long nose. “Why are you?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Then you’ve answered your question.” Irina shrugged, the shawl pulling across her shoulders. “Plus, that asshole is the reason I’m no longer a reporter. He can take what he’s owed.”
With that, she simply left, leaving Nadine trying to get her breath back under control. Perhaps Irina was right; it would be better to wait. An hour was enough time to give it a final check.
Then it was fifty-nine minutes, and she clicked the Post button before she could second-guess herself.
By Nadine Barbault
