Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry

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Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry Page 17

by Mary Higgins Clark


  I certainly do, Gina thought to herself.

  58

  “Why did you have her come to your house?” Michael Carter screamed into the phone.

  “You’re the one who told me to get back to her,” Meg pleaded.

  “I told you to speak to her, not meet her. If you felt the need to meet her, why couldn’t you do it at a Starbucks or a Barnes & Noble?”

  “I didn’t want to take a chance someone would overhear us and learn something.”

  “I’m sure she learned plenty when she saw your place in Rye.”

  “There were no restrictions on how I could spend my settlement money and you know it. Mr. Carter, please calm down. Remember, I was a reporter. Any reporter with half a brain would be able to find out what I paid for my house.”

  “I guess you’re right,” he admitted reluctantly. “Did you tell her what I told you to say about Cathy Ryan?”

  “Word for word I did.”

  “And what was her reaction?”

  “She was taken aback. Clearly it did not jibe with the impression she had of Cathy.”

  “At least that’s a plus.”

  “What do you want me to do next?”

  “What are you talking about, ‘next’?”

  “She’s a reporter. She’s going to reach out to me again.” It was probably the first time Michael Carter wasn’t so cocksure of himself, Meg thought. He didn’t know what to say.

  “I’ll get back to you,” he said. The red circle on her iPhone signaled the connection had been terminated.

  59

  On Wednesday morning Gina was wide awake when her alarm clock chimed six-thirty. For the past two days she had been rehearsing in her mind the presentation she would make to Geoff. Sometimes in the solitude of her apartment she found herself speaking aloud the facts that she found so persuasive.

  More was riding on today’s meeting than the REL News story. It was one thing for Geoff to say he was a fan of her work. Those were just words. An easy compliment to give. For Geoff to put the prestige of the magazine behind the REL News investigation, she needed to convince him not only that the story was genuine, but that she had the necessary skills to pursue it to wherever the trail would lead.

  Her thoughts wandered to an experience she’d had in the early days, at her first job. It never failed to ignite a burn inside her. She had accompanied a college friend to visit the friend’s grandmother in a nursing home on Long Island. Suffering from dementia, the old woman drifted between reliving stories of the hardship her family endured during the Depression and complaining in the present about the shoddy care she received. Gina’s friend believed her grandmother’s unhappiness with the staff was the product of constant pain and a confused mind.

  Gina wasn’t so sure. With her friend’s permission she had gone back repeatedly to visit the grandmother. In the parking lot she had talked to other families. They also had not taken seriously their relatives’ similar complaints about the staff.

  When Gina presented her findings to her editorial board, they were convinced the story had legs and could be an important one for the paper. So important, they decided, that their most senior male reporter was assigned to investigate and write what became an award-winning exposé. Nowhere in the series of articles was Gina’s name or the work she had done ever mentioned.

  As she headed for the shower, her father’s advice echoed in her ears. “Live in the present, dear. That’s all you’ve got.”

  After a light breakfast Gina paused in front of her closet. Business casual was the dress code at the magazine. Geoff kept a sports jacket on a rack in the corner of his office, but she had never seen it on him. At her request a lawyer would be at the meeting. Would he be dressed, well, like a lawyer? Not for the first time she lamented how much time she spent—wasted—trying to decide which were the right clothes to wear. She chose a navy-blue suit and white blouse.

  Dressed and with about twenty minutes to kill before departing, Gina sent an email to Meg Williamson thanking her for being so generous with her time. I’m probably the last person Meg wants to hear from, she mused. Scanning her Inbox, she clicked on one sent from her father.

  Hello Gigi.

  She smiled at the nickname he would call her when she was little.

  Just want to let you know your old man is doing fine down here. Took the boat over to Marco Island yesterday and had a great lobster lunch. Driving tomorrow to Lake Okeechobee to take their tour boat. Hoping to see some manatees.

  Turning into a gym rat. Getting over there 4 or 5 times a week.

  Friends have told me what a great time they had in Costa Rica. Seriously considering heading down there for a visit.

  Will you have a chance to get down here? There’s somebody I’d really like you to meet.

  Love,

  Daddy

  So that explained the more upbeat tone and movies and dinners he’d been going to, Gina thought. Dad has a lady friend. She smiled. He’s happy. At least that’s one less thing I have to worry about. But she couldn’t avoid the lump in her throat, missing her mother.

  Gina glanced at her watch. Time to get moving. Today of all days she didn’t want to be late.

  60

  When the elevator doors opened, Jane Patwell was waiting to greet her. She looked Gina up and down. “Looking good, honey,” she said approvingly. “A little free advice. Wear skirts more often.”

  Gina chuckled. From anyone else she might have been annoyed. But she knew Jane meant it as a compliment.

  As she followed her down the hall, Jane warned, “You might find him a little cranky. His flight got delayed and didn’t land until two o’clock this morning.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” Gina said gratefully.

  Jane knocked and then opened the door to Geoff’s office. The editor was seated at the conference table. Next to him was a silver-haired man in a dark three-piece suit and pale blue tie who appeared to be in his mid-sixties. Coffee cups and legal pads were in front of both of them on their side of the table. They stood up as Gina entered.

  She declined Geoff’s offer of coffee. Jane left, quietly closing the door behind her. Gina noticed that both coffee cups were less than half-filled. It was obvious their meeting had started well before she arrived.

  Geoff shook Gina’s hand across the table. “Gina, I want to introduce you to Bruce Brady. Bruce is our chief counsel. I’ve asked him to join us.”

  After the introductions were completed and pleasantries exchanged, they took their seats. Geoff continued, “I’ve taken the last fifteen minutes to bring Bruce up to speed. We’re both looking forward to hearing how you fared with Meg Williamson.”

  Gina reached into her small briefcase and pulled out several folders. “In my original email, I should say my only email, from Cathy Ryan, she said that after a ‘terrible experience’ at REL News, she had been approached about a settlement. Cathy had added, ‘And I’m not the only one.’

  “We lost the opportunity to talk to Cathy after her,” she paused, “untimely death in Aruba. But Cathy’s family was able to provide contact information that resulted in my meeting with Meg Williamson four days ago.

  “Ms. Williamson is twenty-nine years old, divorced with a six-year-old daughter. She went to work for REL News straight out of college after being approached on campus by a recruiter for the company. Williamson began at REL at the same time as the late Cathy Ryan. Williamson left REL,” Gina glanced down at her notes, “three months after Cathy did but for different reasons. Williamson claims that she left REL News to work at a PR firm because she had a young child and wanted more stable hours and that a live-in nanny would have been unaffordable. According to Williamson, Cathy Ryan was a ‘troublemaker’ and difficult to work with. It’s not clear whether Ryan left by her own choice or was forced out.”

  Geoff said, “That troublemaker business puts a different spin on things if that’s true.”

  “Or that’s certainly what REL News would want us to believe,” Brady
said. “Do you know anything more about what type of employee she was?”

  “I was able to speak to her boss at the magazine group Ryan went to work for in Atlanta.”

  “Usually they won’t say very much about a former employee,” Brady said.

  “Well, I guess this guy was unusual,” Gina responded while flipping through her notes. “Milton Harsh, the associate publisher, spoke glowingly of Ryan’s work at the company, how shocked they were at her passing, and how much she is missed.”

  “Doesn’t sound like a troublemaker to me,” Geoff commented.

  “My feelings exactly,” Gina stated. “Let’s get back to Meg Williamson and let’s assume she also was a victim of whatever happened at REL News. Cathy Ryan, who didn’t settle, ended up dying. So where does that leave Meg?”

  “She reached a settlement,” Brady speculated.

  “Or she’s still negotiating with them,” Geoff suggested.

  “Both are possibilities, but based on the research I’ve done all signs point to her having accepted a settlement.”

  Gina pulled two sheets out of one of the folders in front of her. “I assume you’re familiar with the online real estate company Zillow.”

  They both nodded.

  “This is a Zillow sales report of the home currently occupied by Williamson,” she said as she handed them the sheets. “It sold just under four years ago for nine hundred ninety thousand dollars.”

  “Do Zillow reports show if there’s a mortgage?” Brady inquired.

  “No,” Gina answered, “but that’s where having a friend in real estate comes in handy. A Realtor who is a member of the Multiple Listing Service system can look up any property and find the name of the owner and if there’s a mortgage. According to my friend, Meg Williamson is the sole owner and the property is mortgage-free.”

  “I assume you’ve looked into other ways Meg could have got her hands on a million dollars for a house,” Geoff said.

  “I have,” Gina responded, “and they’re all dead ends. Keep in mind we’re dealing with somebody who is still in her twenties. Lots of young people coming out of college want to work in broadcasting. As a result, the media companies don’t have to pay them very much. Remember, when she was considering child care, Meg said she couldn’t afford a nanny.”

  “Is it possible she’s making enough in her new job to account for the house in Rye?” Brady inquired.

  “No way,” Gina replied. “Hannon and Ramsey is a small PR firm with a modest client base, mostly small health-care companies. A woman I graduated college with works at Hill and Knowlton, one of the biggest PR firms in the world. She said an account supervisor in a small shop would be lucky to be making one hundred thousand per year. Tops.”

  “So she didn’t earn her way to a one-million-dollar home,” Geoff stated. “You said she was divorced. Did that involve a big payday for her?”

  “Quite the opposite,” Gina replied. “Meg told me her ex was a seldom employed musician.” She opened a folder and pulled out a document. “I visited the Manhattan County Courthouse and got a copy of the divorce decree. In exchange for the father giving up all custody and visitation rights, they agreed that he would owe no alimony or child support.”

  “Is family money behind her?”

  “I checked that out,” Gina said. “Before he died from a heart attack five years ago, her father was a high school English teacher in a small town in Iowa. Her mother was a nurse’s aide. She remarried less than a year later.”

  Gina flipped a page in her notebook. “Something Meg Williamson said to me stood out. When I asked how she heard about Cathy Ryan’s death, she appeared flustered. She then said she read about it someplace online. Not too many twentysomethings experience a friend the same age dying. I’m pretty sure she would remember exactly how she found out about Cathy, if she was telling the truth.”

  “I agree, Gina, and that leads to a question that has been percolating in my mind,” Brady continued. “If Williamson took a settlement from REL News, and if she didn’t want anyone to know about it, why on God’s earth would she agree to meet with an investigative reporter?”

  “And why did she ignore my early emails and phone messages and then after ten days decide to get back to me? I don’t have good answers to those questions.”

  Geoff appeared lost in thought. He seemed to be trying to stifle a yawn as the previous night’s short sleep began to catch up to him. “Gina, is there another possibility we haven’t considered? Describe Meg Williamson.”

  “She’s about five feet six, blond hair, blue eyes, slender, athletic build.”

  “Is she attractive?”

  “Very.”

  “Is there any chance she’s a kept woman or she has what is quaintly known as a sugar daddy?”

  Gina exhaled. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought of that. My first-blush reaction is to say no. She doesn’t seem like the type. And she has a full-time job and a young daughter to take care of every night. I don’t think she has time to be anybody’s mistress.”

  Geoff stretched in his chair. “Excellent work, Gina. I’m convinced that Cathy Ryan’s death was not an accident. I am even more certain that Meg Williamson is a victim who accepted a sizable sum of money from REL News to keep quiet about bad behavior at the firm. What puzzles me is why the sense of urgency on the part of REL News now? Cathy Ryan’s bad experience happened years ago. Why was she such a threat to them that a few weeks ago they would arrange an accident to silence her?”

  “I believe I can answer that,” Brady interjected. “REL News just announced they’re going public. If it were shown that they failed to disclose relevant facts including potential lawsuits, high penalties and substantial exposure to litigation would result. A living, breathing Cathy Ryan would have been a major problem for them.”

  “Mr. Brady,” Gina said, “you just provided a good segue into why I asked Geoff to have you sit in on today’s meeting. I’m sorry to have taken you away from your other work.”

  Brady waved his hand. “It’s Bruce. And I assure you, what we have been discussing for the last twenty minutes is infinitely more interesting than the dull-as-dishwater legal brief I have been working on for the past two days.”

  Gina smiled. “Okay, Bruce, here we go. As you stated earlier, REL News is beginning the process of going public. They’ve hired two investment banks to advise them during the process. The man I’ve been dating for the past year and a half works at one of those banks and will be part of the team making the pitch to early investors.”

  “Oh boy.” Bruce shook his head. “Have you shared anything about your investigation of REL News, even that you’re considering doing an investigation? Does your gentleman friend know that?”

  “Not a word.”

  “That’s good. That gives you more options. I’m sorry for being indelicate. You and your friend, uh…”

  “Ted.”

  “Do you and Ted cohabitate?”

  Gina tried to hide her discomfort. “No.”

  Brady folded his hands together in front of his face. “That’s a plus, but it still leaves the two of you with a very difficult dilemma.”

  “I’m sure Ted will understand if I tell him that I can’t disclose what I’m working on. He can’t be responsible for what he doesn’t know.”

  Brady shook his head. “If only it were that simple. If the REL News story you’re pursuing exposes serious wrongdoing at the firm, it will affect the firm’s value. When investors learn that Ted was not only a member of the bank team that pitched them on the REL News investment, he was at the same time dating the journalist who broke the story, no one is going to believe for a minute that Ted didn’t know what you were working on.”

  “But it would be the truth,” Gina said emphatically.

  “In litigation, the truth rarely gets the best seat in the theater.”

  She looked startled. “Will Ted be all right?”

  “Far from it,” Brady cautioned. “Odds are the bank will immediatel
y fire him. He’ll spend the better part of the next several years answering depositions from disgruntled investors suing the bank. Ted could sue the bank for wrongful dismissal, but it will be a long, ugly process.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Gina sighed.

  Brady leaned forward. “When was the last time you saw Ted?”

  “Between my travel and his, not for the last three weeks. I’m having dinner with him tonight.”

  “Gina, think carefully. Have you ever discussed REL News with him verbally, or in an email or a text?”

  “I’ve been racking my brain. I’m sure the only time it ever came up was this past weekend when he told me his bank had been chosen and he would be working on the road show.”

  Brady’s eyes looked sad as he faced her. “Gina, there is one way you might be able to extricate yourself from this situation and leave Ted’s career intact.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Ted should not have shared with you non-public information before it was formally announced. But he’ll be all right because I’m sure half the bankers did that with their spouses and significant others. Here’s what you have to do. Immediately and without explanation, end the relationship. Refuse to see him. Send an email or a text. ‘I’ve chosen to go in a different direction. Goodbye.’ ”

  Gina felt her eyes well with tears. Geoff walked to his desk, grabbed a box of tissues, and put it in front of her. Then he broke the silence. “Bruce, I’m thinking out loud. I don’t know if the ideas popping into my head make sense. Suppose I, with Gina’s permission, assign this story to another journalist. Can Gina step back and not be part of it going forward?”

  She felt a sick feeling in her stomach. It was the nursing home investigation all over again. She developed the story while someone else would get the credit.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Brady replied. “Gina is intimately involved with this investigation. She can’t stop knowing what she knows just because another reporter is going to take over.”

 

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