One Way or Another

by Rhonda Bowen

  Toni shook her head. There it was—that Silver charm. It didn’t hurt also that Silver didn’t look a day over thirty-five even though he was well into his forties. And from the photos, Toni knew that his coffee-colored skin, chiseled features, and rugged handsomeness were the same as they were twenty years ago. Toni didn’t know who was hanging on Silver’s arm these days, but she was one lucky woman.

  She accepted the seat he offered her across from his desk and tried to remember she was a veteran reporter and not a seventeen-year-old schoolgirl with a crush.

  “So, what can I do for you today, Toni?” Silver asked, once she was seated.

  “Well, I am actually working on a series for the AJC on one of our local youth facilities,” Toni said, easing into the topic. “You might have heard of it, the Jacob’s House Young Men’s Center?”

  Toni watched Silver carefully. But if he recognized the name of Jacob’s House at all, he didn’t show it.

  “I am a little familiar with it,” he said, nodding for her to continue.

  “Yes, well, there is a young man at the center, Jerome Douglas, who about eighteen months ago began to serve out time there because of a carjacking that he was alleged to be involved with. He has almost completed his time but his case has been reopened in court and there seems to be an attempt to have him resentenced so he ends up serving hard time.

  “There have also been questions at high levels about the effectiveness and value of the center as an alternative sentencing option for young men who pass through Atlanta’s justice system. There have even been suggestions about having it shut down.”

  Toni paused, waiting for Silver to say something. Anything.

  “This is all quite interesting, Ms. Shields,” Silver said, a small, cautious smile still playing at his lips. “I am just not sure what this all has to do with me.”

  Toni sat back. So he wasn’t going to give away anything. She would have to pull it out of him. That was fine. She could do that. She could do that very well.

  “We’ve been doing a lot of research on Jacob’s House and have found out that over the more than twenty years that it has been around, it has helped a number of young men within this city,” she said purposefully, her eyes still fixed on him. “Many of whom have gone on to be outstanding citizens, loved and respected by the Atlanta community.”

  Silver leaned back in his chair.

  “We were hoping to interview one or two of these men for our series,” Toni said, smiling. “Men like you.”

  Silver rocked back in his chair thoughtfully and considered Toni for a long moment. “I’ve always loved your stories, Toni. For a while your front page pieces used to be the first thing I would read in the morning when I got to the office.”

  He chuckled. “That exposé you did on the mayor a couple weeks ago was actually what made me reconsider running in the next mayoral election. You seem to have a knack for finding the most elusive information.”

  Toni smiled tightly. “I just do my job, Silver.”

  “Yes,” Silver said, nodding. “That you do. And very well, it seems.”

  “Haven’t seen you on the front page for a while now, though.” He cocked his head to the side as he considered her. “But a story like this, about a current mayoral candidate’s potentially seedy past, that just might put you in the headlines again, right?”

  Toni’s smile faded a little. “That’s not why I’m doing this. The young man in question, Jerome Douglas, I have met personally. He’s a good kid who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And I know it sounds clichéd but it’s the truth,” Toni said earnestly. “I’ve also met a lot of the boys in that home, and others who have gone through it. Most of them are good people who just needed a second chance. If they shut down Jacob’s House, a lot of young men now and in the future will suffer because of it.”

  He continued watching her but said nothing.

  “I just want people to see that something good can come out of this place—that it’s worth keeping around,” Toni finished.

  Silver pressed the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully before swiveling his chair around to face the window. He sat there looking out a long time, until Toni began to wonder if he had forgotten that she was in the room.

  “Let me tell you a story.” He was still facing the window, with his back to Toni. “There once was a young boy who grew up in the projects in Atlanta. His mother was sixteen when she had him and was in no condition to take care of herself much more a child. So the city took him. He bounced around for a while and ended up in a wonderful foster home where his foster father would pay him five dollars for every cocaine drop he would make for him. By the time this young man was fifteen he was making his own drops independent of his foster father, who happened to have been shot for being stupid.”

  Toni grimaced. If she had a dollar for every time she heard a story like this, she could buy herself some designer shoes. She had lost her parents, but while they were alive she had been very fortunate. They had been good people.

  “This young man was out doing one of his drops one day when he got caught by the police in a raid,” Silver continued, still staring out the window. “He got taken to the station and was crowded into a cell with a bunch of other pushers and hard criminals. Most of them went to jail, but a social worker who knew his case took pity on him and got him into a special center where he could serve out his time instead of becoming another statistic.”

  Silver turned his chair back around to look at Toni. “I think you know the place they sent him.”

  Toni nodded.

  “During those two years, he was fortunate enough to meet people who showed him that there were paths his life could take that wouldn’t end with him dead or behind bars before he turned twenty-five,” Silver continued. “He got cleaned up, finished school, went to college, and eventually became a mayor of Atlanta.”

  He gave a sad little smile. Toni could tell that talking about his past brought up a lot of difficult memories for him.

  “That is quite a story,” Toni said honestly. “One that I am sure the people of Atlanta would love to hear—especially about one of their favorite politicians.”

  Silver sat forward and folded his arms decisively. “That may be true, Ms. Shields, but that is not a risk I am willing to take.”

  Toni tensed. He had gone back to calling her Ms. Shields.

  “I love the people of this city, but I have known them for many years. They don’t want mayors with shady pasts. They want a clean, spotless image that can stand up against that of the mayors in New York, Chicago, and the other major US cities. If this hits the press I don’t have a chance.”

  “I think you underestimate your supporters,” Toni tried.

  “Maybe,” Silver said. “But I would rather err on the side of caution.”

  Toni sighed, starting to feel a little frustrated. Silver had been her golden ticket to securing major coverage for this story. Having his story would almost guarantee that the right attention would come to Jerome’s case. As she sat there looking at a pleasant but unyielding Silver, she realized that things again would not work out as she had hoped.

  “I respect your desire to have this part of your past remain confidential,” Toni said. “But if I could find this information, so could someone else. Wouldn’t you like to have the opportunity to decide how this story is told when it goes to the public?”

  “That’s a bridge I think I’ll wait a while to cross. Especially since I never had to cross it the last time I ran for mayor.” He looked at his watch, and Toni knew the meeting was over. She shook her head and stood to leave.

  “Oh, and Ms. Shields?”

  Toni turned around.

  “I may be charming, but don’t cross me. You print one word of what I just told you, or connect my name with your story in any way, and I will sue you and your entire newspaper,” he said easily. “And this time, sweetheart, you won’t be able to sweet talk some ten-dollar cop out of jail time.”

&nb
sp; So he had done his research on her. She was impressed. If he was a couple years younger, she might have been tempted to break her no-politicians rule just for him.

  He flashed her a campaign smile, and Toni couldn’t help but shake her head. Only Silver could make a threat like that sound as smooth as butter.

  As she headed toward the door again she stopped short to look at a photo hanging on the wall.

  “Is that a Cessna Citation Mustang?” she asked.

  Silver looked up from his desk, surprised. “Yeah. You know about planes?”

  “A little,” Toni said.

  “Is that one yours?” she asked, pointing to the picture.

  A nostalgic look slipped into Silver’s eyes as he leaned back in his plush leather chair to admire the photo of the top model aircraft. “I wish,” he said. “I just got my pilot’s license about six months ago. I’ve flown a couple small crafts, but this baby here, I can’t wait to get in the cockpit for.”

  Toni bit her lip thoughtfully. “You know, my brother uses one of those all the time on his small private trips. He’s a pilot.... He could probably let you take one up if you want.”

  Silver’s eyes widened like a child’s on Christmas morning. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Toni said, shrugging. “He does it all the time.” She dug into her purse and pulled out one of Trey’s business cards, handing it to Silver. “Give him a call. He’s been giving lessons for about a year now, so he could probably arrange something for you.”

  Silver looked at the card as if it was made of gold, then looked back up at Toni. “Thanks,” he said hesitantly, still a little in awe.

  Toni smiled. “No problem.”

  She knew he probably expected her to try and bargain for what she wanted with what she had just offered him. But she was too smart for that.

  “Have a great day, Mr. Maxwell.” She walked out of the office, pulling the door closed behind her.

  So much for that.

  Chapter 19

  “Who’s this Ann Armour chick and why is she stealing our byline?”

  Toni cracked an eye open and glanced at her bedside clock. “Afrika, it’s six o’clock in the morning,” she said, her face still in the pillow. After playing tug of war with her sheets for most of the night, she had finally fallen asleep at 2:00 a.m. And she had been enjoying those few golden hours until her cell phone rang.

  “I had an early client and she came in with the paper, talking about some kid getting fleeced by the city for the sake of some extra votes,” Afrika said. “You couldn’t even tell me the story was coming out today?”

  Toni hadn’t even been sure when it would be out herself, after Silver refused to be a part of things. However, she had still been able to write the articles with some less glamorous names included instead. She had been exhausted by the time she ran the whole thing through the fact checkers, made some last minute edits, and sent it to Naomi, but she had been satisfied.

  “And who’s this Armour person?” Afrika asked again.

  “It’s me,” Toni said, rolling over in bed and pulling the covers closer around her. “I had to write under a moniker. If Gordon knew I was behind this, I would be lining up downtown collecting unemployment about now.”

  “Oh, it’s like that?” Afrika asked, the hostility leaving her voice.

  “Yeah, it’s like that,” Toni said. “But don’t worry. I got something for you.”

  “Okay,” Afrika said. “Did you tell Thug-Life that he’s a celebrity for the day?”

  “No. I was gonna wait and bring the paper over to Jacob’s House this morning,” Toni said, sitting up.

  “Well, you better get on top of that,” Afrika said. “ ’Cause by the time Miss Paula here tells the whole world about the story, it will be fully sold out.”

  Toni yawned. “Okay, will do. Thanks again for your help, girl.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Holler at me later.”

  Toni hung up the phone and glanced at the night table. It was barely 6:10 now, but she was fully awake. Plus she was more than a little curious about the story.

  Getting out of bed, she slipped on some sweats and a pair of slippers and took the stairs down to the front of the building where she knew she could get the paper. The cold air nipped her but she didn’t even notice as she flipped through the sections. There it was. Front page of the Metro section: 17-YEAR-OLD TAKES A HIT IN ELECTION CROSSFIRE.

  A picture of Jerome sat parallel to one of city councilman Jim Wilson addressing the media. Toni knew that picture. It was taken at the press conference where Wilson had announced his intention to run for mayor in the coming election.

  As a member of city council, Wilson was directly connected to the decisions that had led to the reopening of Jerome’s case. The article even included statements Wilson had made about the case at several different occasions. A few staff from the councilman’s office had also provided comments about how the councilman felt about the case. He’d had no mercy for Jerome, and in turn, Toni had had none for him. So when she had written the story, she hadn’t spared any details. Needless to say, it wasn’t looking good for Wilson.

  Toni smiled and got a second copy of the paper before heading upstairs. She could already tell that it was going to be a great day.

  She had just opened her apartment door when she heard the phone ringing again. She barely managed to pull the door closed behind her before dashing over to the nightstand where the phone still sat.

  “Hello?”

  “Toni, I’m so sorry.”

  Toni didn’t like the way this phone call was starting.

  “Who is this?” She glanced at the caller ID but the number was private. She started to feel even more apprehensive.

  “It’s Tricia, and I have some info you’re not going to like. I hope you’re sitting down.”

  Toni had started pacing. Tricia almost never called her. And the fact that she was calling before seven on the morning that Toni’s story broke was more than a little disconcerting.

  “What’s going on, Tricia?”

  She heard the young woman take a deep breath. “It’s Adam Bayne. Remember I told you his name came up and I was waiting on some more info?”

  “Uh-huh,” Toni said. “That was weeks ago. I figured since I didn’t hear from you that it turned out to be nothing.”

  “I’m so sorry, Toni,” Tricia said, irritating Toni with her multiple apologies. “I thought I had sent the info to you, but when I saw the story this morning, I realized I must not have. I know you would have never run the story the way you did if you knew—”

  “Knew what?” Toni rushed her to the point.

  “Adam Bayne,” Tricia said. “Turns out he has open warrants in the state of Maryland. And not just one.”

  Toni felt her heart stop. “Please tell me that you’re talking about unpaid speeding tickets.”

  “No,” Tricia continued. “These are felony warrants. Breaking and entering, assault, accessory to robbery, possession of firearms. Plus my contact dug a little deeper and found Adam’s name on a bunch of other cases involving criminal gangs in the area.”

  Toni shook her head. “You’ve got it wrong, Tricia. That’s impossible. Not the Adam Bayne I know. I mean, how could the army have even taken him with all those charges?”

  She heard Tricia snort. “Are you serious? You remember what was happening ten years ago, right? They were shipping troops out to Afghanistan so fast that they pretty much enlisted anyone with ten fingers and toes who was willing. The charges that were actually on his record at that time probably got waived. My guess, though, is that a lot of the others showed up after the fact. You know how people start implicating others when they’re in a tight spot.

  “I’m sure about this, Toni. We have his social security number. It’s him.”

  Toni wanted to curse. This was really bad.

  “Do you have the files?”

  “Yeah, I had already scanned them. Check your inbox. I just sent them to you.” Tricia’s voice be
gan to crack. “Oh God, I feel so horrible.”

  The girl was so distressed that Toni almost felt sorry for her.

  “Toni, I’m so, so—”

  “I know.” Toni cut her off. “Look, I gotta go.”

  Toni hung up the phone before Tricia could respond and turned on her laptop. She continued to pace as she waited for it to boot up and for her wireless to kick in.

  Adam was a fugitive?

  This was bad.

  How could she not have known this? She knew everything about Adam. She knew he was originally from Baltimore. She knew that he was involved with gangs when he was younger. But really, what young man growing up in the projects wasn’t? She knew he was ex-army. She even knew the exact dates he was in Afghanistan. But she had missed this. The most important part. She had missed it.

  This was really bad.

  What was she going to tell Naomi? She had burned Jim Wilson like bad fried chicken on the morning’s story. No doubt he would be looking for a way to defend his actions. And if Tricia could find this info on Adam so could someone else. Before they knew it, the AJC would be accused of defending an institution run by a fugitive of the law. The AJC would look bad. And then they would want to know who the Ann Armour behind the story was. When they found out it was Toni Shields she would be an outcast. It wouldn’t be a Stephen Glass New Republic type scandal, but it would be close.

  The little wireless icon finally popped up in the corner of her screen and Toni clicked into her mail and downloaded the attachments. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She hit print and heard her Canon spring to life. She had to see this up close.

  She paced the living room again as her eyes read the two pages of charges and connections over and over again. She looked at them so many times she was sure the images were burned onto her brain.

  This was real. Adam could go to prison for this mess.

  She stopped suddenly, sitting down hard on the sofa as the reality hit her full force.

  Adam could go to prison.

  For some reason the thought made her really angry. How could he be so irresponsible with his life? How could this be true? Why didn’t he tell her? She had asked him all about his past, about his time in Baltimore, but he had never mentioned being charged. And he had to know about them. You didn’t get charged for breaking and entering and not know. So he had lied to her.