Markson wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead, glancing around nervously like he expected Chatterton to beam into his office. “I never thought about the story going public. This will all come out, won’t it? Everyone is going to know I was the informant.”
“I think the FBI will try to keep that quiet initially, but yes, eventually Delco will know it’s you. But I think, in order to protect your best interests, you should grant me an exclusive interview with you. We’ll hit the public right away with your story, how you wanted to save average Americans hundreds of dollars, how you wanted to stop corporate theft. We’ve got to spin you as the hero that you are right up front, Stan.”
Reese wondered if using his first name was pushing too hard, but she didn’t have much time here. Markson already looked ready to throw himself out the window. And she meant every word. Someone needed to look out for this guy and make sure he didn’t end up losing his career and his reputation when the whole case blew open.
“I don’t know. I really hadn’t thought about what would happen afterward.” Stan sank into the camel colored leather chair in front of his desk. “Oh, damn. This has gone so much farther than I ever intended.”
Reese felt sorry for him. Here he was, trying to do the right thing, and he might very well get squashed in the process.“Think about the interview, Stan. Go home, talk it over with your wife, and let me know. I want to help you.”
She reached onto his desk and took one of his business cards from the little gold case. Scribbling her name and phone number on the back, she handed it to him. “I’m going to be here at Delco until the investigation is over, and I’m going on the New Zealand trip. Let me know if you ever need to talk about anything. I can do and say whatever I want, unlike the FBI agents, who have rules to follow.”
Even if she had rules, she probably wouldn’t follow them, but she knew how Knight was skating on thin ice with his boss. She knew he wouldn’t be able to go to bat for Markson if need be.
“Okay, I’ll think about it.” Markson took the card and stared at her, his pale gray eyes searching. “You know, this company is going to be rocked to its very foundation if we get the evidence in New Zealand. There are all kinds of illegal activities going on. The price-fixing is just the beginning.”
“So I shouldn’t invest in the 40IK plan?”
Markson gave a nervous laugh. “Not if you want your money tostayyour money.”
Watching the agony on his face, Reese felt bad for him.
She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Hey, for what it’s worth, you’re doing the right thing. That takes guts.”
“Or stupidity.” He dragged his hand across his face.
“Stupidity is wearing these shoes.” She bent her knee and stuck a spiked heel in his face. “You’re being courageous.”
With another pat on his shoulder, she headed for the door. “Now, I’ve got to get back or Jennifer will have a cow. Think about the interview and let me know, okay?”
Markson sat motionless in the chair. “Thanks,” he said absently, waving at her as she unlocked the door.
When she got back to the copy room, her perfectly collated piles of papers were tossed on a table in a massive jumble and Amber, the twenty-year-old intern, smiled at her.
“I moved your stuff. I hope I didn’t mess anything up.”
Forget theNew York Timesbyline. Reese wanted a freaking Pulitzer Prize after all this hassle.
But first she had to collate.
FORTY-EIGHT
“Areyou really going through with this?” Derek lifted Reese’s suitcase, along with an overflowing shopping bag, and headed for the door.
“Yep.”
“Why?” He didn’t want Reese to move in with his sister. Or more accurately, he didn’t want her to move out. Three days, and he was already used to her being around all the time.
“Because it’s what Claire and I planned to do.” Reese was wearing a pair of his sweat pants, and her ankles looked like the sticks on cotton candy. Two little skinny strips of flesh surrounded by yards of puffy navy cotton.
She might be moving out, but she was taking half his wardrobe with her, including an assortment of sweat pants, T-shirts and jeans.
It amazed him that Reese never seemed to think her permanently borrowing his clothes, a huge girlfriend thing to do, was a big deal, yet she freaked out at any mention of that G word. Nor did he understand why he was allowing her to rob him of practically every item of casual clothing he owned.
“It just seems like a lot of hassle, and you’re not going to be in Chicago for that long.” He wanted to add,Are you?but refrained himself. “Claire can find another roommate.”
Reese blew her hair out of her eyes. “Are you jealous or something? Don’t you want me to be friends with Claire?”
“Of course I want you to be friends with my sister. But if you’re there, and I’m here...” He reached out and tugged on the waist of the sweat pants she was wearing. “I can’t do this whenever I want. ”