Saturday night—technically Sunday morning now—Janeal boarded an airplane and dropped into her first-class seat. Her PDA had been beeping prior to her call to board, and she’d been methodically answering as many of the messages as possible before having to turn off the device in flight.
Brian Hoffer had sent a note. Conceptual pitch on your story idea attached. Tough subjects, play close to the chest, not sure they’re right for the concept. Speak to me.
She opened the file and skimmed the two-page synopsis. She’d speak to him all right. There was nothing here. Nothing that sang, anyway, nothing that would make for any story idea she could use in All Angles, nothing that would make a publisher drool instead of yawn.
Nothing that she could skim off by way of personal information.
This young reporter obviously would not do. All these decently written words and nothing to show for it but two decently portrayed figures, one Robert Lukin and one Katie Morgon, smiling out of the page like Macy’s mannequins.
She’d have to do this herself.
Do what herself? She hadn’t been after a story in the first place.
She wanted information. Not information about how this Desert Hope House functioned or how much funding had dropped in the past five years, as Brian had reported. She wanted personal information that only she would know how to ask for. She should have realized that in the first place.
Janeal sent Brian a reply.
Not strong enough, nothing to discuss. Idea’s dead at the starting gate. If we decide to revive this thing, I’ll call.
She turned her mind toward the next steps. How would she get to Katie? How could she find out what Katie intended to do with all these cards she held? How could Janeal do it without exposing herself?
No clear answer presented itself.
A second message came in from Brian half a minute later, politely announcing the unreasonable kill fee he expected, along with canned language about how he hoped All Angles might reconsider or use him in the future, blah blah blah. She squashed her initial irritation and decided that since he hadn’t called to argue with her, he was worth whatever fee he wanted. His own lack of passion was indication enough that he found the story not worth his talents. All the better.
Not only that, but as if aware that his demands were unusually high, Brian had included the following information: Fee includes one-way ticket back to Phoenix, as my transportation—Lukin—has decided to make a vacation of it here in the Land of Enchantment.
Janeal replied, Send mailing address. Allow three weeks for payment, and set her PDA aside. She didn’t expect to hear from him until after he learned that she had not paid for his airfare. He got himself there of his own will; he could get himself home.
She hadn’t expected Robert to spend an extended time with Katie either, she realized. His presence might add a fresh wrinkle to Janeal’s already rumpled quandary.