Final Cut (The Kate & Jay series Book 4)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EPILOGUE
About the Author
Other Books in Print by Lynn Ames
FINAL CUT
© 2016 LYNN AMES
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
ISBN: 978-1-936429-13-4
OTHER AVAILABLE FORMATS
PAPERBACK EDITION
ISBN: 978-1-936429-12-7
PUBLISHED BY
PHOENIX RISING PRESS
PHOENIX, ARIZONA
www.phoenixrisingpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
CREDITS
EXECUTIVE EDITOR: LINDA LORENZO
AUTHOR PHOTO: JUDY FRANCESCONI
COVER DESIGN: TREEHOUSE STUDIO
Dedication
To the brightest light shining in the night sky, my beautiful sister of choice, Sandra Moran. Our loss is Heaven’s gain. Keep shining that light, sister. You inspire me every day to live life to the fullest. Sending you so much love in Heaven.
Acknowledgments
There are two aspects of every book I find hardest to write—the first is the back cover blurb (the synopsis). If I could adequately describe the novel in two or three paragraphs, why would I write a 300-page book? The second hardest piece is the acknowledgments. And here we are.
Although novel-writing is a singularly solitary pursuit, it takes a village to accomplish the finished product. Once I settle upon the story I want to tell, I make a list of experts in order to ensure that every aspect of the plot is possible and plausible. In this particular instance, Final Cut required a lot of research and a bevy of extraordinary experts. I consulted hacking experts; government officials; Washington insiders; former CIA operatives; FBI agents; Hollywood producers, screenwriters, and editors; corporate private jet pilots; and accountants. I would name all of these individuals, but, for obvious reasons given the list, there are some who would prefer to remain anonymous. As a result, I won’t name any of my experts. They know who they are, and I extend my deepest gratitude to each of them.
As I write, I have a closed group of trusted readers who provide me with critical feedback. Two of these readers are former editors, two are among my oldest and dearest friends. As always, my thanks to Laney Roberts, Ruta Skujins, Jenni Levy, and Dana Francis for coming along for the journey and for turning the pages around so quickly.
Behind every great writer is a better editor. I am so blessed to have the best editor in the business. To Linda Lorenzo, may you always look forward to receiving my manuscripts and improving my work.
Now we get to the creation of the physical product. My extra special thanks to Toni Whitaker for creating the e-book versions of my work and for taking care of my publisher website so that the reader can buy directly from me.
Finally, last but absolutely not least, if a book is only as good as its cover, then I am in great luck, because I have the most talented, best cover designer in the universe. To my fabulously talented little sister, Ann McMan, Famous Graphic Designer, I have run out of superlatives to describe you and your work. Beyond that, the friendship I share with you and your lovely wife, Salem West, means more to me than words can express. I love my North Carolina family. You make me rich beyond measure.
And to you, my readers. Thank you for your unwavering support. Thank you for clamoring for more, and for supporting me as I strive to tell stories that are entertaining, deep, intricate, and enlightening. You rock.
CHAPTER ONE
“Hey, babe. Check this out.” Katherine Kyle folded her copy of the New York Times Book Review section in half and held it out to her wife. “You know I always love the way the photographer has you cock your head to the side for these publicity shots.”
“Yeah, well. It keeps me from squinting into the strobe lights and highlighting my wrinkles.”
“Jamison Parker, you don’t have any wrinkles.”
“Really? What do you call these, then?” Jay pulled at the sides of her eyes.
“Those are laugh lines. That’s different.”
“You say tomato—”
The flight attendant interrupted. “Ladies and gentlemen, please make sure your seatbelts are securely fastened and your tray tables are in the upright and locked position. We’ll be closing the doors shortly for departure.”
Jay laid the newspaper in her lap and buckled her seat belt. She picked it up again and studied the quarter-page ad.
“From the pen of New York Times best-selling author Jamison Parker comes a tale of government intrigue and corporate greed that will leave you breathless…”
“Did you know Black Quill was doing pre-release publicity for the book?” Kate asked. “Isn’t it a little early? The book isn’t due out for another ten months.”
“I didn’t. But then, I’m usually the last to know.”
“Nice cover art.” Kate fumbled for her phone as it buzzed. “Who the heck would be texting me now?” She swiped the screen and read. “Shit.”
“Shit? That’s eloquent.”
Kate tilted the screen so that Jay could see it.
“The Frog is on the move. Code red.”
“What does that mean?” Jay asked.
“It means Sabastien is in trouble.” Kate put on her Bluetooth and dialed a number.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now closing the cabin doors. It’s time for you to turn off and stow all cell phones and large electronic devices for takeoff.”
“Enright.”
“Peter? It’s Kate.”
“I see you got the text.”
“Listen, Jay and I are en route to Los Angeles, and we’re just about to take off.”
“What’s in LA?”
“We’re honorary co-chairs for the GLAAD Media Awards. What’s going on?”
“You know, the usual. All hell is breaking loose.”
“Can you tell me in five seconds or less?”
“Let’s just say he’s wanted, and not in a good way.”
“For what?”
“Hacking into Homeland Security’s servers and leaking classified data.”
“What? Sabas… would never—”
“Ma’am, you’re going to have to turn off your cell phone now.”
Kate gave an exasperated nod to the flight attendant. “I’ve got to shut down. Quickly, what do they think he leaked? And to whom?”
“Our 1989 run-in with the Commission and all of the Hyland Commission
Report, and to a reporter Jay knows well.”
Kate winced. “Oh, no.”
“Ma’am?”
“Peter, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you as soon as we land.”
“Fly safe.”
Kate ended the call, powered down her phone, and dropped it in her bag.
“What’s going on?” Jay asked.
“It doesn’t make any sense.”
“What doesn’t make any sense? And why are you suddenly so pale?”
Kate waited until the roar of the engines was at its peak. Then she leaned over and whispered in Jay’s ear. “Peter says Sabastien is wanted for treason for leaking classified documents from Homeland Security.”
“What?” Jay practically screamed it, then, remembering where they were, lowered her voice to match Kate’s whisper. “Why would he do that? He’s saved their butts hundreds of times from hackers trying to get into their systems. What would his motive be?”
“It gets worse.”
“How much worse can it get?”
Kate reached out and stroked Jay’s hand.
“Kate? How much worse?”
Kate closed her eyes. Surely this couldn’t be happening. She didn’t want to tell Jay, but she knew she must. “He’s accused of stealing the sealed materials from the Commission investigation and the plot against President Hyland.”
Jay practically jumped out of her seat. “No. No, no, no.” She shrugged off Kate’s touch, buried her head in her hands, and grabbed a fistful of hair.
“Jay.”
“Oh, Kate.” When Jay looked up again, her hair was standing out at odd angles. “Who was the recipient of the leak?”
“I don’t know for sure.”
“Kate.”
“I mean it. Peter didn’t give me a name.”
Jay studied her wife. “I know that look. There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”
“All Peter said was that it was a reporter you knew well.”
“Oh my God! Do you realize what this means?”
“Jay, we don’t know everything yet. Let’s just wait until we land, then we can call Peter back and get more details.”
“The book…” Jay looked down in her lap, where her face gazed up at her from the ad for her upcoming novel.
“Is a fictional account of something that only a dozen people know about,” Kate finished.
“Knew about, you mean,” Jay said, glumly.
“We don’t know the extent of the leak, or what the reporter did with whatever information he got.”
“Come on, Kate. If it was minor, we probably wouldn’t even know about it. The FBI would have handled it, and it already would’ve been buried by now.”
Kate stared at Jay.
“What?”
“Who are you, and what have you done with my normally sunny, optimistic wife?”
Jay heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” She sat back in her seat. “But I’ve worked so hard on this book.”
“I know you have, sweetheart.”
“It’s taken me twenty-seven years to bring myself to write about what happened.”
“I know.” Kate reached out again, this time intertwining their fingers. “How about if we wait until we know more before we jump to conclusions about what this means for the book?”
Jay glanced down at her lap one more time. She let go of Kate’s hand, grabbed the folded newspaper, and stuffed it in the seat pocket in front of her. “Let’s talk about something else.”
After a moment’s silence, Kate said, “Okay, what if we focus on tonight’s event? How exciting is it going to be to meet Dara Thomas and her wife, Rebecca?”
“Hollywood’s ‘it’ couple. Dara was so gutsy, coming out at the Oscars like she did.”
“She was. Then again, standing up there accepting the award for Best Actress makes you the hottest property in town. It’s the ideal time to do something bold if you’re going to do it.”
“True. But you’ve got to give her props. She could’ve lost millions in salary and some major movie roles.”
“She could have,” Kate acknowledged. “But to me, the coolest thing is that she didn’t.”
“No, she didn’t. She went right back into production for the second Constance Darrow adaptation without batting an eyelash.”
“Good for the studio for standing by her. What’s the name of the new film again?”
“Love Above All Else,” Jay said. “The book was exquisite. I can’t wait to see the movie. It opens in theaters next week.”
“I’m always leery of adaptations. Somehow, they’re never as good as the books on which they’re based.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you. But the movie version of On the Wings of Angels was amazing. Then again, Rebecca wrote the script. She’s the world’s preeminent Constance Darrow scholar. That’s how she and Dara met, isn’t it, on the set?”
“I think so. You know I don’t pay any attention to the gossip rags.”
“But it’s such a beautiful love story. It’s like something straight out of a romance novel.”
Kate laughed. “You’re a hopeless romantic.”
“Takes one to know one.” Jay leaned over and kissed Kate on the cheek. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For pulling me back from the brink. That was an excellent deflection.”
“Any time.” Kate reclined her seat. “It’s going to be a long night. How about we try to get some sleep?”
“Honey? Have you seen my black strapless bra? I could’ve sworn it was in this drawer.”
“No need to shout,” a warm, mellifluous voice hummed in Rebecca Minton Thomas’s ear, as strong arms wrapped around her naked torso. “I’m right here.”
Heat flowed through Rebecca’s body as she responded to her wife’s touch. “Mmm.”
“Did you say you were looking for this?” Dara nuzzled Rebecca’s neck.
Rebecca tipped her head back. “No. But it’s a nice appetizer.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And if you keep it up, we’ll be late.” Rebecca reluctantly broke the embrace.
“Spoil sport.” Dara closed the open dresser drawer. “Your strapless bras and sexy panties belong in your ‘high fashion’ lingerie drawer.” She made a show of removing the bra in question, along with a pair of black lace panties, from the next drawer down.
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “I have a ‘high fashion’ lingerie drawer?” She took the bra and panties from Dara, put them on, and walked to the closet where her dress was hanging.
“You do. We have so many formal functions to attend, it only made sense to give these specialty items their own space.”
“You know that’s a little OCD, right?” Rebecca laughed and removed the little black dress from the hangar and stepped into it. “Zip me up?”
“You say OCD, I say efficient,” Dara said as she complied, then spun Rebecca around and held her at arm’s length.
“What?” Even though they’d been married for almost a year, Rebecca still marveled at the raw hunger in Dara’s eyes.
“You’re gorgeous, that’s what.”
Rebecca swallowed hard. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Nope. Only to the one who owns my heart.” Dara ran her thumb over Rebecca’s bottom lip. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The kiss was long and lingering. By the time they separated, Rebecca was completely breathless.
Dara glanced at her watch. “Oh my God! We’ve got to get going.”
“I tried to tell you,” Rebecca said. She gave herself a last once-over in the full-length mirror. In the reflection of the glass, she watched Dara slip into her shoes. The electric blue Oscar de la Renta dress hugged her in all the right places. She blushed as Dara turned and held her gaze in the mirror.
“Why are you embarrassed?”
Rebecca shrugged. “I guess I still fret sometimes that you’ll feel like I’m objectifying you.”
Dara came over and took Rebecca’s hands. “Sweetheart, you’re the one person in the world I never worry about that with. I hope you always, always look at me just like that.”
“That’s a given.” Rebecca risked one more kiss. “Okay. Let’s go before we don’t.”
“Right.”
Together, they headed for the front door.
The limo sped down Wilshire Boulevard on its way to the Beverly Hilton. Kate and Jay had barely had time to check into their hotel and change for the awards gala before meeting the driver downstairs.
“Kate? Please.”
After almost three decades together, Kate understood the shorthand request without the need for further elaboration. She closed the privacy partition between them and the driver, affixed her Bluetooth to her ear, and called Peter. “Is he safe?” Beside her, Jay sat rigidly with a knee bobbing up and down and her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Kate reached out and put a hand on Jay’s leg to still the nervous motion, then let go.
“He’s left the building.”
“Was that an answer?”
“It’s what I have right now.”
Kate didn’t like how tense Peter sounded. It wasn’t the cryptic nature of the conversation. She was well used to his insistence on secrecy. No, there was something different in his tone, something she couldn’t quite identify. Yet.
“Does that mean you don’t know where he is?”
“How was the flight?”
Kate accepted the change in topic for what it was—either Peter didn’t have any idea where Sabastien was, or he wasn’t comfortable giving the information over the phone. It also occurred to Kate that, depending on the details of the situation, she might be better off not knowing the answer.
“The flight was smooth. Jay didn’t get much shuteye though. She’s a little preoccupied.” Again, Kate put a hand on Jay’s thigh. “Surely there must be something more you can tell me?”