JACK FARON WAS back from Los Angeles. There was a message waiting for me when I got to work the next morning. He wanted to see me in his office immediately.
“What do you think he wants to talk to me about?” I asked Maggie after I showed it to her.
“Gee, what do you think?”
“Well, there are several possibilities. 1) He wants to give me a pat on the back—and maybe even a big raise—for the great job I’ve been doing, 2) he’s going to promote me, or 3) he’s still mad about me going on the air with the Marty Barlow story while he was out of town. I’m betting its either 1 or 2.”
“Really?”
“I’m a glass-half-full kind of gal.”
“This isn’t going to be pretty, Clare. I’m glad I’m not in your shoes right now.”
She was probably right. I decided to put it off as long as possible. Before I went in to see Faron, I asked Maggie to run down for me all the top stories she was working on for the news meeting later that day. Then I called Terri Hartwell’s office and got an appointment to see the Chad Enright guy Dani had told me about. I also called the media consultant, Gary Weddle, and rescheduled our meeting that I’d blown off the other day. After that, I went downstairs and bought myself a big cup of coffee and a poppyseed bagel with cream cheese. I ate the bagel and drank the coffee at my desk. Finally, when I couldn’t think of any other way to delay the inevitable, I went to see Faron.
Trying to maintain my positive attitude, I greeted him with a big smile and a cheery, “Welcome back, Jack. How was your trip to LA?”
“How was my trip to LA? Well, let me try to answer that question for you. We didn’t get any of the new advertising accounts we wanted. It rained the whole time I was there. The airline lost my luggage on the trip home. And, worst of all, the woman I left in charge of the station here ignored my instructions and went out on the air with something that I didn’t want—and that is now causing me and the station all sorts of repercussions. That’s how my trip to LA went.”
“I have an explanation,” I told him when he was finished ranting at me.
“I certainly hope so.”
“I don’t believe Martin Barlow died in a random mugging. I found out some new information about Barlow and what he was doing before he was murdered. I think there’s a good story here.”
I went through everything I’d found out so far. About the connection between Marty’s son-in-law and Terri Hartwell. About the buildings that Marty seemed to be investigating. About how Marty had talked about murder—maybe lots of murders—being involved in this. And about the big guy that warned me off the story after I went to visit one of the places.
“But what is the story?” he asked after I finished. “There is no story. Just a series of individual pieces of information and events that might or might not be related. Murder, corruption, illegal payoffs, Terri Hartwell, this Thomas Wincott guy … you have no evidence, no hard proof of any kind to put on the air.”
“How about the guy who told me to stay away from the building—or else? Why would he not want me around unless he had something to hide?”
“Maybe he just didn’t like you.”
“How could anyone not like me?”
“Hard to believe, I know.”
He then talked about the meeting with the media consultant that I’d missed. He explained again how important it was for the station and our ratings and our ad sales to incorporate the consultant’s ideas in our planning going forward. He said the order to hire the consultant had come from Brendan Kaiser himself, the owner of Channel 10 and a lot of other media properties.
“This media consultant has an excellent reputation,” Faron said. “He’s one of the best in the business.”
“Well, you know what I always say about consultants,” I said. “Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach. And those who can’t do either become consultants.”
I’ve never had much use for consultants of any kind, particularly media consultants. I don’t understand the logic of paying someone who doesn’t work at a TV station a lot of money to tell the people who do work at a TV station what they should be doing. And their ideas never seem to be any good.
Faron repeated to me again how important this meeting was for the station. He said that I needed to show up for the meeting this time. And he said I should keep an open mind and not display any kind of negative attitude to the consultant.
“Be nice, Clare.”
“I’m always nice.”
“Yeah, right …”
“Don’t worry, Jack, I’ll try to work with the guy.”
“Thank you.”
“No matter how big a jerk he is.”
Before I left Faron’s office, I asked him again about the Marty Barlow story.
“There is no Marty Barlow story.”
“I’m supposed to have an interview with Terri Hartwell’s top aide, a guy named Chad Enright. Hopefully, he’ll let me talk to her directly. I might find out something good.”
“Okay, go ahead with the Enright meeting. If you find out something good from him or Hartwell, we’ll put it on the air. In the meantime, forget about the damn Barlow story and concentrate on spending time with the media consultant.”