by Gail Bowen
“Are you sure about this, Jo?”
“I am. When you told me about Mieka turning to stone when she saw you, I realized that, for all our sakes, we have to keep trying.” I reached over and touched her hand. “It was my Saul on the road to Damascus moment.”
Jill’s half smile was mocking, but her extraordinary tawny eyes were filled with hope. “You saw the light?” she said.
“Something like that. Jill, we all have to move on. It’s been almost twenty years since Ian died. The Kilbourn family that you knew — Ian, me, Mieka, Peter and Angus — doesn’t exist anymore. We’ve grown older, we’ve added new people to our family and we’ve all changed.”
“Even Angus?” Jill said.
I laughed. “No, Angus is still Angus. He loves working at the Calgary office of Falconer Shreve; hiking, skiing and going for beer on the Red Mile with the other associates after Stampeders’ games.”
“Life has always been a cabaret for Angus,” Jill said fondly.
“It has,” I agreed. “But at his request, Angus is coming back to work in the firm’s Regina office. His first love, Leah Drache, is moving back here to practise medicine.” I’d been watching Jill’s face carefully, and I was almost certain she was wavering. I waited a long moment. “Jill, why don’t you stay in town long enough to see if Angus’s first love turns out to be the one.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am,” I said. “There’ll be some rough patches along the way, but I’ll be there.”
Jill set a soft hand on my shoulder. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll stay.”
We cleared away the tea things and the next time we looked out the window the men had returned. They were in the driveway peering at the engine of Kam’s Chrysler hybrid: Zack’s expression was as intense as that of a person who had just discovered the one true faith, and Kam’s face shone with the bliss of a zealot who had just snagged a convert.
When they finally came in, they carried with them the bracing scent of fresh cold air and more information about real-time power readings, pre-programmed charging and the efficiency coaching tool than I was able to process.
Finally, they wound down. “Time to deal with the issue at hand,” Zack said. “Before we begin, can I get anyone anything? If you’re up for a beer, Joanne and I discovered a very nice local lager.”
“Sounds good,” Kam said.
Jill and I exchanged a look. “Jill and I’ve been hitting the Constant Comment pretty hard,” I said. “I think we’ll pass.”
When the four of us had settled at the partners’ table, Zack leaned forward. “We’re here to piece together the information we have, so we can figure out what the hell is going on. Kam, do you want to get us started?”
“Sure.” Kam took a sip from his glass and gave a quiet sign of satisfaction. “Patti Morgan came to my office this morning. The fact that she was even in the building was unusual. The cancellation of Sunny Side Up had been difficult for her. She understood that the network needed a stronger local lead-in to the news hour they’d scheduled, but Sunny Side Up had been her life.
“The parting was amicable, but as far as I know, Patti hadn’t been at MediaNation since the farewell show. This morning she was only in the building for a few minutes, but that was long enough for me to realize that she needed help. Patti was raging. Her words came in a torrent, and they made no sense. She said, ‘Don’t believe anything anybody tells you about my son. Don’t let them taint his memory. He was perfect in every way.’
“Patti’s arms were flailing, and I was afraid she was going to hurt herself, so I took hold of her wrists. I tried to reason with her. I told her that no one was going to say anything, that Nicholas had been gone for years and that what happened was in the past.
“She wrenched away from me. She was sobbing. ‘People always leave something behind,’ she said. ‘Mike Braeden has been trying to force me to see a therapist. Those people can give you drugs that make you tell secrets. Every time I leave the house, Mike goes through my personal things searching for ugly lies about my son that he can give to a therapist to use against me.’”
“What did you do?” Zack asked.
“I tried to reason with Patti. When that failed, I tried to soothe her, but she was unreachable. Finally, she just turned and ran up the stairs that lead to the main entrance. That’s when I went to Jill.”
“I’d just ended a call from a source telling me that last night Mike Braeden ended up in Emergency after he’d been attacked with a broken bottle,” Jill said. “Our source said she’d overheard Mike asking the admitting nurse not to call the police because it was a ‘family matter.’”
“After Jill related what the source told her, she and I agreed it would be wrong not to warn Mike that Patti was out of control. We tried his home and office — Mike wasn’t there, but I spoke to his executive assistant. I explained the situation and she said that you were Mike’s lawyer, and that you could get a message to him if you felt it was necessary.”
Zack nodded. “That was sound advice. Had Ms. Morgan been drinking when she came to your office?”
“I don’t think so. Patti has suffered so much. Everyone who knows her was hoping that she’d find peace when she married Mike Braeden. And for a while, it seemed she had. Then just before Christmas last year, something happened. Rosemary noticed the change in Patti too, and she asked me if Patti had mentioned anything to me about a family problem. When I said no, she thanked me and walked away. In the next few months, Rosemary came to me several times to ask if Patti had spoken to me about the difficulties she was experiencing. I hadn’t seen Patti in weeks, but by that point, I’d heard enough about her risky behaviours to be concerned. I suggested we talk to Patti’s husband about professional help for her. Rosemary said she wasn’t sure that was wise, but she’d consider it. She never mentioned the idea again. Then after the May long weekend, Rosemary’s behaviour started to deteriorate, and MediaNation had a far more pressing problem.
“The morning after Rosemary left the building for the last time, I discovered this under a script on my desk.” Kam removed a torn piece of paper from his laptop case and placed it on the partners’ table.
My husband reached over, smoothed the paper and read aloud the words handwritten in black ink: “I am warning you not to be fooled. This person is young, charismatic, narcissistic and capable of . . .” Zack narrowed his eyes. “Kam, I’m assuming that whatever came before and after those words had been torn off when you found the paper. Is this Rosemary Morrissey’s handwriting?”
“Yes. She always used a fountain pen and black ink, but her handwriting was like Rosemary herself — strong, distinctive and controlled. This is almost a scribble, but there’s no doubt in my mind that she wrote it and that she tore this section from a larger piece of writing.”
Zack leaned back in his chair. “A letter to you, but she decided against sending the entire letter, so she just ripped off the part that mattered — the warning. Kam, did you show this to anyone else?”
“No. Not until today.” Kam gestured towards the fragment of paper on the work table. “Look at it. A few scribbled words written by someone who removed the words that completed her thought because she didn’t trust what she was thinking. At the time, this scrap of paper just seemed to be further proof that Rosemary was non compos mentis, and her reputation was already in shreds.”
“The interns’ exit letter certainly points to the fact that Rosemary had an enemy,” I said. “Her suspicion that something was very wrong seems to be well founded.”
Kam shook his head. “Except there’s nothing in the exit letter that isn’t factual. The three people who were in the room when Rosemary criticized Thalia for reading Nietzsche believed Rosemary was simply trying to protect Thalia. Thalia felt Rosemary’s comment was gratuitous and condescending. Clearly, the interpretations of the four people, including Thalia, who heard what Ro
semary said, differ, but they agree on the words she used. And Thalia’s account of the words I used when she reported on her encounter with Rosemary is factually true, but she and I perceived the exchange differently. I saw my advice as an attempt to soothe troubled waters; Thalia saw it as a warning that she and the other interns should keep their complaints to themselves.”
Zack placed his forefinger on the fragment of paper on the work table. “Once again, it’s a matter of interpretation,” he said. “And, squaring the circle, it takes us back to the question of whether the person who wrote this warning was of sound mind. And the only person who can answer that is Ms. Morrissey.”
“Who has seemingly disappeared,” Kam said. “Rosemary’s colleagues — and that includes me — dropped the ball on that one. When the days turned to weeks, and we still hadn’t heard from Rosemary, we should have followed up, but we didn’t. Rosemary had frequently travelled to places most of us couldn’t identify on a map, and she wasn’t a fan of sharing her life on social media, so we assumed that she was simply doing what she’d done before. Of course, that meant brushing away an inconvenient fact. In the past, Rosemary believed we were her friends and on her last day at MediaNation, she had learned that we had all written letters that betrayed her.”
“From what I’ve been told, the rationale for writing the letters was compelling,” Zack said. “MediaNation was gambling heavily on the new season, and, for reasons no one could comprehend, Rosemary was screwing up. She was a burden the corporation could no longer afford to carry, and they felt it was time to cut their losses. All the head of HR at MediaNation was asking you to do was to tell the truth.”
“And the truth destroyed a gifted woman who was suffering a health crisis,” Kam said.
Zack wheeled his chair over to Kam and, in a gesture he seldom made with anyone outside the family, he put his arm around Kam’s shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. You and your colleagues did what most of us do when we’re offered the easy way out of a situation in which we know we behaved badly. Now, let’s finish our beer and go out and look at that hybrid of yours. I still have some questions that I’d like answered.”
Jill and I went to the door with the men and watched as they ran appreciative hands over the Chrysler’s shining flanks and chatted.
“We’re witnessing what appears to be the beginning of a friendship,” I said.
“And you and I have taken the first steps towards resurrecting a friendship that I thought had ended,” Jill said quietly. “Despite everything, it’s been a very good afternoon.”
“It has,” I agreed, “and I wish we could just bask in the glow. But, Jill, there is something else.”
My account of Concerned Friend’s communications with Taylor was delivered in broad brush strokes, but Jill was quick to see the picture. “You’re wondering whether the fact that Concerned Friend had access to Vale’s publicity itinerary suggests that they have a connection with MediaNation. I would say that’s a strong possibility. The information about hotel accommodations is distributed sparingly. Hotels don’t want their lobbies filled with fans and paparazzi, and there are always security concerns.”
“Any ideas about the identity of Concerned Friend?” I said.
“That message Rosemary left on Kam’s desk is significant,” Jill said. “Despite their betrayal, Rosemary cared about the people in her unit. She wrote that message as a warning. At the last moment, she might have lost her nerve and ripped off the specifics. But she left enough of the message to alert her colleagues to the fact that they were facing danger.”
“The exit letter was presented as a collective effort, but Kam is sure Thalia Monk was the driving force behind it. Do you believe that Thalia was also the danger Rosemary felt compelled to warn her colleagues about?”
“I think we have to face the fact that’s a distinct possibility,” Jill said tightly. “And ridding ourselves of Thalia will not be a simple matter.”
“Because her parents are Patti Morgan and Joseph Monk,” I said.
“Patti’s too mired in her own misery to do much of anything,” Jill said. “Over the years, Joseph Monk has formed some powerful alliances at MediaNation, but Thalia is her own winning lottery ticket. She’s pitched a project that Hugh Fairbairn is very keen on.”
“The millennials on millennials project,” I said.
Jill’s eyes widened. “That’s supposed to be under wraps. How did you hear about it?”
“Alison Janvier came to our place this morning to talk about it.”
“Then you know all the pieces are in place except for Harper Janvier’s involvement,” Jill said. “It’s a good gig for him. Why did Alison throw up a roadblock?”
As I described Thalia’s strategy for ensuring that she and Harper would be a team, Jill was first curious and then amused. “Thalia really is daddy’s little girl,” she said. “Joseph knows how to move the pieces around the board too, but it sounds like little Thalia may have met her match. She was not happy about having to wait twenty-four hours for Harper’s decision. Neither was Clay Fairbairn. He was afraid Harper was going to deep-six the project, and he went straight to his grandfather. When we were on the way out here, Hugh called to ask me if I knew anyone who could talk to Harper. I said that Harper was nineteen years old, and he would not take kindly to being pressured.”
“And he accepted that? From what I’ve heard, Hugh Fairbairn is not a man who takes no for an answer.”
“He trusts my judgment, Jo. Hugh and I have always been fond of each other, but working together on this new programming has been exciting for us both and it’s drawn us together.”
Jill spotted the concern in my eyes. “We really are just friends. I won’t lie to you. The attraction has always been there, but Hugh would never do anything that would jeopardize his relationship with his grandson.”
“Where does Julie fit in?”
“Hugh never talks about Julie. Clay is another matter. He loves that boy, and he worries about him. Hugh sees this millennial project as something that could earn Clay the approval he so desperately seeks. And Hugh believes that Thalia — brilliant, creative, committed — could help Clay become the man he has the potential to be.”
“Jill, if Hugh loves Clay that much, you should find a way of convincing him that Clay doesn’t need Thalia Monk. Thalia will always overshadow anyone with whom she works. That’s not a value judgment; it’s simply a fact. If Clay handled the production of the podcast on one of the other campaigns, he’d be the golden boy, and he would be the one positioned to expand the millennials on millennials concept in new directions.”
Jill slumped. “You’re right, of course, and I’ll try. But Hugh is convinced Thalia is the one ‘capable of bringing Clay into himself.’ And as much as Hugh respects me, he’ll have questions that I can’t answer. Jo, we have no proof that Thalia has done anything wrong. All we have is a scrap of paper that appears to have been written by Rosemary Morrissey to her colleagues, warning them that somebody is capable of something. We’re the ones who are filling in the blanks. Hugh won’t buy that.” Jill took both my hands in hers. “But I do. Watch your back, Jo, and pass the warning along to the people who need to know.”
Chapter Fourteen
Zack and I followed Kam and Jill outside to say our goodbyes and watched until Kam’s Chrysler passed through the security gates and headed for the highway. When it was out of sight, I turned to my husband. “So, is there a hybrid in our future?”
“That’s a decision we’ll make together,” Zack said. “And it will be a relief to have something positive to focus on.”
“I take it that when you and Kam took your walk in the woods, you talked about more than the pleasures of country living.”
Zack nodded. “We did. But the first order of business is to call Warren, so he can alert Mike Braeden to the fact that Patti Morgan continues to be in a very dark place and that Ka
m believes she poses a threat.”
Zack placed his call, and when it appeared that he and Warren were going to talk for a while, I went to the kitchen and rummaged around in the freezer for something quick, tasty and easy for dinner. No luck. The coupon drawer was more fertile ground. On the very top of the pile was a flyer for a new East Indian restaurant in Fort Qu’Appelle that reputedly made dumplings to die for, and — bingo — they delivered.
I’d just opened up my laptop to order online when Zack wheeled in.
“Warren’s glad we gave him the heads-up about Patti, because when Lyn Goldman, the lawyer Mike hired for his divorce, met with Patti, she came away shaken. Not much shakes Lyn, but in her opinion, Patti’s a loose cannon. When Lyn learned that Mike was staying at the Webers’, two doors down from the house he owns but where Patti lives, she was not happy. Mike is now staying at the Marriott.”
“So many lives turned upside down,” I said. “It’s eerie.”
Zack raised his eyebrows. “What’s even more eerie is the fact that all these lives are connected to MediaNation. Kam Chau says that every time he gets home after work and sees Ellen’s cats waiting, it’s a reminder that she isn’t coming back. The uncertainty is getting to him, Jo. Kam’s a level-headed guy, but he’s convinced himself that Thalia is somehow connected to everything that’s going on.”
“Kam’s not alone,” I said, “Jill believes that too, but as she correctly points out, we’re the ones who are filling in the blanks. I’m going to call Taylor and ask her to come by when she has a moment. She may remember something more about Thalia.”
By the time Taylor picked up, her phone had rung so often I was prepared to leave a message. She was clearly distracted. “Sorry, I was working, and you know how spacey I can get.”