25

Rebecca was prepping her notes for the afternoon press conference when her phone went. She reached for it without taking her eyes off the screen, annoyed at the interruption. She glanced up at the clock. Twenty minutes. This better not be another agency call asking for advance sight of the release and one-on-ones with Burns, the Area Commander or the Chief.

“Press office, Summers.”

“Rebecca? Rebecca, it’s me.”

She straightened in her chair, a cold prickle running down her back.

Calm, Rebecca. Calm.

“Doug? How’s Skye?” Tone light, casual. Good.

“Great, you should have taken me up on my offer,” he said, his voice hesitant but, she was glad to hear, sounding more like himself. The stress she had heard when he called this morning, like the creaking of a guitar string being over-tightened, was gone, replaced by something perhaps even more worrying.

Excitement.

“Maybe next time,” she said, her voice sounding harsh in her ears. “Anyway, why the call? Wasn’t just to say hello, was it?”

He gave that laugh that only he thought was shy. “Ah, no. ’Fraid not, Rebecca. Look, I heard about Montgomery, wondered if there was anything you could tell me. Don’t think I’m going to make the press conference.”

She swallowed back the anger, resisted the urge to snap the pen she was holding. Just. “Don’t worry, it’s covered. I got a call from Angus about twenty minutes ago, he’s covering it for the Trib with Robbie.”

“What, the Dynamic Duo? You’d be lucky if they could write a once-upon-a-time story, let alone this. Come on, Rebecca, please. If there’s something, anything…”

“Why, Doug?” she snapped, surprised by the sudden anger. “Why ask me? You’re not working at the moment, Walt’s orders, Angus told me. So who are you writing this for? And why call me? It’s not like we can go out for a cosy drink and chat it over afterwards, is it?”

Silence on the other end of the phone. For a moment she thought he had hung up, wasn’t sure whether she felt disappointment or relief. Then his voice, slow, hesitant. She could see him running his hand through his hair, spiking it up in that way he did.

“Look, Rebecca. I’m sorry about this. Really, I am. Sorry about the other night, sorry if things got out of hand and I crossed a line. But it’s not like it’s been a normal week for me, is it? I’m a reporter, I want to report. I…” He coughed, frustration as he fumbled for the words. “I need to. If you can’t, or won’t help, I understand, I’ll check the wires and my other contacts and do it that way. But if there’s anything you can do, please…”

Rebecca chewed her lip, torn. She hated this. He hadn’t crossed any line she didn’t want him to, so why did she feel he had? Why was she at once hurt and elated when he called, why the flash of anger when the call turned out to be all about the work. It had only been one drink, one night, but still…

Other contacts.

She sighed. “All right. But this is strictly on embargo until the press conference is over, okay Doug? I’ll send you the release and the copy of the statements by Burns and the AC. But that’s it, okay?”

“Okay,” Doug said. He sounded like a kid being given a puppy. “That’s great, thanks Rebecca. And listen, I… I really am sorry about all this. Guess it was a bad week to go for a drink.”

“You can buy me another one to make up for it,” she said, instantly regretting it.

“It’s a date,” he replied, a little too quickly.

Fuck it, she thought, go for broke. He owed her. “Look, Doug. I know this is a tough time, and I really hope that seeing your old boss is what you need. But I don’t want to be messed around. Happened too many times before. If that’s that, fine, but don’t string me along, okay?”

“I wasn’t,” he said. “Really, Rebecca. It’s just, I…”

Her mobile pinged, no doubt another reporter. Funny how she was everyone’s best friend when there was a big story breaking.

“Doug, I have to go. I’ll send you that stuff across, let you know how the presser goes.” She closed her eyes. Took a breath. Jumped. Added: “For all the good it’ll do you.”

“Oh, I’ll talk Walter round,” Doug said, the old practised charm in his voice. “Angus can butcher the presser, I’ll do the follow-up when I get back tomorrow.”

“It’s not Walter you have to worry about Doug, it’s my boss. And the courts, if and when this goes to a trial. Can’t have a witness for the prosecution being cited as a reporter in the pre-trial media storm.”

“What? Burns? Look, I know Third Degree doesn’t like me, but he can’t stop me on this one…” His voice trailed off as the penny dropped. Must have still been in shock. It took him longer than Rebecca would have supposed.

“Wait, Rebecca. Trial? A trial? You’re treating these two murders as one case?”

“I never said anything, Doug. Just be careful about the questions you ask, okay? And call me when you get back tomorrow, I think we should talk.”

She cut the line before he could reply, stared blankly at the screen. Hit a few keys and sent him the press release and statements before she could change her mind then rocked back in her chair and thought about two nights ago, when the wine had flowed and the talk had been a world away from murder and press conferences and work. Wondered if that story was over, found herself not wanting to know the answer.