Part 12 (1/2)
”I don't know, and I probably won't get to know. Let's drop it, okay?”
”What do you mean?”
”Jo blew me off this morning, like she's been doing to everyone else. I don't have any answers because now I've p.i.s.sed her off too.” Gabe looked defeated. ”I think we need to back off for a while.”
”You can back off if you want to, Gabe, but I can't. If we don't get it together around here, we are all on a sinking s.h.i.+p. Do you really want to go through job interviews again and the starting-over process? Are you prepared for that? Because, I'm not. In the event Madeline ends up doing some kind of public face plant, I don't want the stain of it on my resume. Even if we don't have to worry about Jo messing things up, we can't sit around and pretend everything is just peachy.”
”I want to be informed and kept up to date as much as you do, but we're not going to get anywhere by hammering either of them with questions. Trust me, I tried.”
”Did you? How hard did you try? You're so afraid of p.i.s.sing Jo off that you walk on eggsh.e.l.ls around her. She's single-handedly hijacking this operation. You get that, don't you? She's been the one calling the shots, saying where Madeline goes, what she does-and what she doesn't do. Suddenly she outranks me, you and Ian. How do you feel about that?”
”I think you're overreacting. In any case, I'm pretty sure she's relinquished that responsibility,” Gabe replied, his voice shaking from frustration.
”What do you mean?” Jacquelyn's curiosity was piqued. ”Did something happen between them? Are they fighting?”
”I don't know, Jacquelyn. Drop it.”
”What exactly did she say? Is she going to lose her job?” Jacquelyn tried to breathe through her rapid-fire questions, but this was too good.
Gabe sighed. ”I don't have details. If you want to know so bad, you ask one of them.”
They stood in silence for a few moments. Jacquelyn was determined to get to the bottom of this. Jo Carson had done things she considered unforgiveable, not only practically destroying the relations.h.i.+p between Madeline and Jacquelyn that Jacquelyn had worked so hard to develop but also standing in the way of keeping Madeline in the spotlight, something that was essential leading up to an election. Ian eventually would serve as volunteer campaign manager with a separate campaign staff-and she wouldn't be in the mix of campaign messaging-but she needed to make sure that Madeline didn't mess up. If she was not reelected, they would all be out of jobs. She needed to know what Jo's agenda was and exactly what had caused her fall from grace.
Good, bad or ugly, they needed to get Madeline's face back in the news, needed her to start doing on-camera interviews and answering the questions that people had been asking. Questions that Jacquelyn could not address, because Madeline hadn't told her anything. Questions that she was sure Jo knew the answers to but wasn't sharing with anyone.
She had received about twenty press questions a day since the news of John's affair broke-to all of which she had simply said, ”No comment.” She needed time with Madeline. She needed to know: Did Madeline know John was cheating? Had she suspected? Was she planning to file for divorce? What would happen to their property?
”I want answers, and I want Madeline back,” Jacquelyn said, leveling her gaze at Gabe.
”That's what I want too,” Gabe finally admitted.
When had life come to this? Looking at the crumpled m.u.f.fin wrappers and empty Red Bull cans scattered around the van, Isaac Williams had to ask. When the need to pay child support got critical, he supposed. He put his head in his hands, wis.h.i.+ng desperately that he could take a nap. To say he was a man down on his luck would have been putting it mildly.
The pamphlet he had been handed during college about the exciting life of a cameraman for a news station had lied. There was no glamour or excitement. There was just a van that he felt like he had been pretty much living in for days.
Something had to give soon. It had to, he thought, recalling his last conversation with his boss.
”They're not commenting,” Isaac had told him after several unsuccessful attempts to get a statement out of Mayor Stratton's staff.
”That's just great, Isaac. Our compet.i.tion stormed her house and got live coverage, and you can't even get a d.a.m.n written statement.”
”I've been by her house. She's not staying there, apparently,” Isaac had argued.
”I'm not paying you to tell me where she is or isn't staying. If you want to keep this job, get me something new. Get me something that other stations haven't run. h.e.l.l, do some more digging on the husband. Get the other woman to talk. I don't care, but produce something-and fast. News doesn't sleep, and neither should you until you have something for me.”
”Yes, sir,” Isaac had said softly before heading out again. What he had really wanted to tell his boss was that he could shove the news up his a.s.s. The truth was, as much as he loathed his job, he was going to do whatever it took to be able to spend one weekend a month with his son-even stalk the mayor.
He was staked outside of her house for the second day in a row, waiting, watching. There had to be activity around the place at some point. He had tried all of his phone options, but everything had come up flat.
Badly in need of a nap, he called the mayor's office again. After three rings, someone answered-an intern, he guessed.
”Mayor Stratton's office, this is Chris. May I help you?”
”Hi, Chris. It's Isaac from Channel 4 News. Can I talk to Jacquelyn?”
He knew the drill. The intern would check and see if she was available while he sat and listened to on-hold music that made him want to slit his wrists.
”This is Jacquelyn.” Stress and frustration filled her voice.
Good, he thought, maybe he'd actually get her to break this time.
”Jacquelyn, it's Isaac with Channel 4. How are you today?” He tried his best to sound cheerful.
”Good.” Judging from the tone of her voice, she was probably forcing a smile. ”How are you?”
”I'm good. I was just checking to see if you all had issued a statement or were planning to at some point in the near future?”
”Not at this point, but I have your contact information and will send you anything in the event that we issue a statement.”
He wanted to scream. This meant he would be getting the statement at the same time as everyone else. There would be no breaking news, and Channel 4 would not come out on top.
”Thanks, Jacquelyn. If you have anything else you would like us to run, be sure and let me know that too.”
”I will, for sure,” she replied.
”When will the mayor be back at the office?” He tried another approach, getting a tired sigh from the other end of the phone in response.
”The public wants to know,” he urged. ”Remember-these are the people who put her in office. They deserve to know what she's doing.”
”At this point, I am unable to comment on the mayor's schedule,” she said curtly.
”That'll be all then, but do consider issuing something soon. Thank you.”
As he hung up, he decided this wasn't going to cut it much longer. Obviously, the mayor wasn't coming home anytime soon, and the husband was obviously laying low. He wasn't staying with the little blond he had been caught with, though. Isaac had checked that out.
He needed someone at that office to talk. He would find them, find out what he needed to knew. But first he was going to get some sleep.
Chapter Sixteen.
Chicken simmered in vodka sauce, and Tracy Chapman played softly on the stereo.
Jo stirred the chicken, attempting to get her mind off the situation at hand. Alcohol had not been the answer. She knew that much. It had only made her head swim with more questions and thoughts of Madeline.
Every time she successfully diverted her attention from her-even if for a few seconds-something pulled her back instantly. It didn't matter if it was as simple as a song, or as complex and stressful as the conversation she had with her mother this afternoon, peppered with questions about whether Jo's job was in jeopardy.
She pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the meal in front of her. Cooking in an empty kitchen-another meal alone-had not made anything better. ”Looks like it's back to eating alone, buddy,” she said, reaching down to pat Jaws on the head. ”I guess it's not going to get much better than this.”