I looked at Raleigh with my nerves jumping around like Mexican jumping beans. If I couldn’t trust him, then when we got back to town, I could be facing maximum rebuke. I would have Roth at my desk, or worse, Mercer. But I already felt I could trust him.
“So I’m gonna catch a ride back to town with Ms. Thomas,” I said, waiting for his response.
“Cindy,” the reporter said with renewed determination.
Raleigh began to nod in a gradual, acquiescent way. “I’ll finish up with Hartwig. I’ll talk to you soon. Ms. Thomas, an unexpected pleasure.”
I shot him a grateful smile. Then I took the reporter by the arm and said, “C’mon, Cindy, I’m gonna explain the rules along the way.”
Chapter 32
&
nbsp; I DON’T KNOW WHY I DID IT.
It was risky and rash, precisely the opposite of whatever had gotten me as far as I was.
Maybe I just wanted to say screw it in the face of authority. To Roth, Mercer. To play things my own way.
Maybe the case was widening, and I just wanted to keep the illusion that it was in my control.
Or maybe all I wanted to do was let someone else in.
“Before we go anywhere,” I said, grasping Cindy’s wrist as she started up the car, “I need to know something. How did you find out about what was going on down here?”
She took a deep breath. “So far, all that’s happened is you’ve pushed me away from the story of my career. Now I have to give up my sources, too?”
“Anything we do from here on is dependent on it.”
“I’d kind of prefer it if I can keep you guessing,” Cindy said.
“If this is gonna work, it’s gotta be based on trust.”
“Then trust goes two ways, doesn’t it, Inspector?”
We sat there, baking in the hot Mazda littered with empty fast-food drink cups, sort of squaring off.
“Okay,” I finally relented. I gave her what little we knew about why we were in Napa that afternoon. The DeGeorges missing in action. That they had been married Friday night. The possibility that they were couple number two. “None of this goes to print,” I insisted, “until we have confirmation. I give you the okay.”
Her eyes beamed with her suppositions suddenly confirmed.
“Now it’s your turn. There was no press here. Even local. How did you get onto this?”
Cindy put the Mazda in gear. “I told you I was from Metro,” she said, as the car putted out onto the main road, “and I’ve been fighting to stay on this story. My boss gave me the weekend to come up with something solid on this biggie. You had already brushed me off, so I parked myself down your street since yesterday and waited for something to turn up.”
“You followed me?”
“Pretty desperate, huh? But effective.”
I scrolled back over the past two days. “To the movies? To the marina this morning?”
She blushed slightly. “I was about to call it quits when your partner came by. I just tagged along for the ride.”
I pressed myself back in my seat and started to laugh. “Not so desperate,” I muttered. “Bad guys’ve been falling for it for years.” I was both embarrassed and relieved.
On the drive back to town, I fleshed out the rules of our agreement. I had done this before when a reporter got too close on a story and threatened an investigation. She couldn’t go out with this story until we had confirmation. When we did, I’d make sure she had it first. I’d keep her ahead of the story, but just slightly ahead.
“There’s a catch,” I said firmly. “What we have now is what you call a prioritized relationship. It goes past anything you already have — with your boyfriend or someone at work. Even your boss. Anything I give you is totally between us, and it stays with us, until I give you the okay to run with it.”