Beyond a Doubt
Page 23
“She might as well have described him as a white knight coming to your rescue. And I’m afraid, despite all your hard work, that’s the story corporate would like us to focus on.”
“The rescue,” I said. “Nothing leading up to it? Nothing about the girls? How they were targeted and kidnapped? Or Diamond selling organs on the black market? Just the rescue?”
“It’s a delicate situation, Carol. They’re happy for you, delighted you did what you did to bring the girls home. And between your broadcast and what our air traffic reporter in the helicopter above the boat described, we got a real play-by-play of the girls’ rescue and exit. But, as I’ve been told, corporate’s put a lot of money behind positioning the station as the feel-good format for women, and they think too much detail concerning exactly what it is these girls have been through might prove upsetting for our listeners. They’d like you to keep it light. However, on the bright side, corporate loves you. Right now you’re their new golden girl. So I leave the decision to you.” Tyler smiled, disingenuously, I thought.
“Message delivered,” I said.
He turned and walked away. The decision was mine. I wasn’t going to shortchange this story. I could keep the more morbid details about sex slavery to a minimum, but I wasn’t going to omit anything about the pain and fear these girls had gone through. The public needed to know. Sex slavery and trafficking didn’t just happen somewhere else; it was happening here, right here in the homeland.
As for Sheri and my boyfriend coming to my rescue, I shook my head. I couldn’t fault Sheri for exposing my relationship with Eric, and making a big deal about him coming to my rescue. As a reporter, I know how difficult it is to fill airtime in the middle of a tense situation. When the facts are slow coming in, reporters improvise. We reach for anything, chat about past experiences as we wait for the story to unfold. No doubt Sheri was feeling the same pressure. Trying to explain where I was. Why. And who it was she had called to help. Without even hearing the broadcast I could imagine just how nervous she was, and how she might have gone on about my personal life.
I knew in my mind how it would have gone down. Sheri would have picked up the boys and come by my place for dinner. Exactly as planned. When I wasn’t there she would have known something was wrong. It wouldn’t have taken her but seconds to check her iPhone for a readout from her fitness watch, and when she got a report showing my elevated blood pressure, and noticed my location, somewhere in the middle of the Santa Monica Bay, she knew I was in trouble. That’s when she would have sprung into action, rounding up the troops for my rescue. She would have called everybody, including Cate, exactly like I had told her to. She called Agent Delfino, LAPD, and Tyler, who put her on the air with Cupid.
I had called Cate on the way home. Eric had arranged for a car to take me home and I needed to tell her it was over. But she already knew. She had been following the story on the radio and had talked with Sheri. She asked about the girls. What would happen to them? I told her I didn’t know for sure, but that by tomorrow, I’d have some answers. I said she might have to listen to the station because much of what I’d be learning would come from interviews I’d yet to set up for tomorrow’s show. Stay tuned, I joked.
When I arrived home, there was a note from Sheri waiting for me on the kitchen counter. Charlie’s with me. Call when you get a chance. Congratulations. In the refrigerator was leftover lasagna with instructions to reheat it in the microwave.
No, I couldn’t fault Sheri. Sheri was family. We may not have been related, but we supported one another. She was there for me and the kids. As for what I did for Sheri? I wasn’t so sure. She once said she lived vicariously through me. If so, I figured, at least for the moment, I better come up with something better—I’d had enough close calls to last for quite a while.
Cupid was blasting I Will Survive when I walked in the studio. He stood up and greeted me with a big bear hug.
“That’s twice now you’ve saved my life,” I said. “Or at least the song did.” I explained when I found Leticia last night, she had a small radio with her and that we’d tuned to the station and heard it. “You’ve no idea just how strong it made me feel.”
“Speaking of which.” Cupid nodded to the studio window. “Did you know they’d be here?”
Outside the studio Detective Browne, Bessie Bixby and Leticia stood with Brandy. I motioned for them to come in. I had asked several people if they’d come by the studio for Cupid’s show. I had no idea how many would show up. I left messages everywhere, hoping I’d get either calls-ins or that those I’d called would show up. In the aftermath of last night’s rescue I wasn’t certain where anyone would be, and I wanted to get as many people as possible to share their story.
Cupid and I opened the show with Bessie who announced that she was happy to have her granddaughter home and was planning on adopting Brandy.
Tanya Day was our next guest. She was a call-in and said she had been listening to the radio last night when she heard Cupid and Sheri going on about the rescue. She wasted no time in getting herself down to the marina, where she met up with members of the LAPD rescue operation and insisted she take the girls home. With her, on the air, was Holly.
“I wasn’t going to let them keep any of those girls, much less Holly,” Tanya said. “After spending several long hours with the FBI and LAPD, they released her to me. She has a long road ahead of her, but she’s not going to be spending it in jail. Not if I can help it.”
I was glad to hear that.
Earlier that afternoon I had called Mr. King, KCHC’s legal guru and Dr. Diamond’s attorney. I was hoping to get a statement from him regarding Diamond’s arrest. What I got instead was a flat answer. He would no longer be representing Dr. Diamond, but that he’d received a call from Tanya Day, asking if he might be interested in doing some pro bono work for Holly Wood.
I asked Holly how she was doing. She sounded relieved that she had finally slipped beyond Diamond’s tyrannical grip and had found someone who could help her find her way out of the nightmare she’d been living. I hoped she was right.
My next guest was Dr. Miles Ericson. He explained he was calling from the hospital where his fiancée, Gabi Garrison, was recovering. He put her on the phone for a moment and she sounded weak but happy to be safe. She said was sporting a nice sparkler on her left ring finger and looking forward to getting back to work. Miles said that on the advice of legal counsel he couldn’t comment on the case, only that he was glad to that Tony and Dr. Diamond were out of their lives.
“So,” Cupid said, “Carol, you must be feeling pretty good. You’ve found Hollywood’s Missing Girls and, as you suspected all along, Dr. Diamond was connected, but that still leaves—”
“My client, Tony Domingo. You’re right. He wasn’t aboard the ship last night and I—”
As I was about to explain I’d received a voicemail on my office phone early this morning, Eric walked into the studio. He looked whipped, like he hadn’t slept, his hair finger-combed into place.
“Actually, if I might interrupt.” Eric reached for a headset and took a seat at the console next to me. “We picked Tony Domingo up at the Burbank Airport less than an hour ago.” Eric winked at me and explained that thanks to Holly Wood, they’d been able to track Tony down and make an arrest.
“And one last question,” Cupid asked. “What happens to Sweet Dreams now that Diamond’s been arrested? What becomes of a boat like that?”
Eric looked over at me. The Sea Mistress had formerly been a drug smuggling vessel he had bought at auction. I hoped he had no intention of buying this one. He smiled like he’d read my mind.
“That, Cupid, depends upon the outcome of the charges against Dr. Diamond. If he’s found guilty, we have forfeiture laws in this country that allow the government to seize property used with trafficking and organized crime, and it’s likely somewhere down the road she’ll be sold at auction.”
“So, ace reporter, is it?”
“That’s what they’re calling me. Today anyway,” I said.
“I have to say, there’s just one thing about all this that bothers me.” He paused and looked up at the sky, then back at me, a faint twinkle in his eye. “And I’m afraid it’s a deal breaker, Carol.”
“What?” I couldn’t imagine what was bothering him.
“You weren’t seasick. I’ve seen you seasick and you weren’t. Not for a moment. I came up behind you on the boat and you were cold, and you were shaking, but you weren’t seasick. Diamond would’ve gotten away if you were, but you were totally in control.”
I laughed. Eric was right. Once I had gotten on board and realized Diamond was there and I was going to have to deal with him, that my life depended on it, and so did the girls’ lives, I couldn’t allow my stomach to rule my defenses.
“I suppose it was mind over matter. Who knows, maybe I’m cured,” I said.
“So then, Catalina? You, me, and the Sea Mistress, this Saturday?”
About the Author
Nancy Cole Silverman credits her twenty-five years in news and talk radio for helping her to develop an ear for storytelling. But it wasn’t until 2001 after she retired from news and copywriting that she was able to sit down and write fiction fulltime. Much of what Silverman writes about today she admits is pulled from events that were reported on from inside some of Los Angeles’ busiest newsrooms where she spent the bulk of her career. In the last ten years she has written numerous short stories and novelettes. Today Silverman lives in Los Angeles with her husband, Bruce and two standard poodles.
In Case You Missed the 1st Book in the Series
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