Authors: Mallory Monroe
SIXTEEN
Two months later
Story after story and Nikki was running on autopilot.
Cathy was bitching because she didn’t get the big kidnaping assignment even though she was the first reporter on the scene, but it was too big a story for her limited experience so Nikki sent Eddie Harris instead.
Coop was complaining because his story on the drug bust of a Jaguars player didn’t make the front page, just the sports page, and Nikki was telling him that an athlete getting busted was no big deal anymore and he was telling her that she didn’t know what the hell she was talking about.
And Phil was sitting back and letting her, as his newly promoted assistant editor, handle it all.
Only she was about ready to tell him to take this so-called promotion and shove it, but she couldn’t, because a woman was waiting in her office and she had been waiting for nearly an hour as it was.
Nikki finally exhaled.
And sat behind her desk.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she told the woman, “but it’s been one of those days.”
“Quite all right,” the lady said and crosses her legs.
She was one of those big, bosomy women, with an arrogant air about her even though she may be the sweetest person in the world.
Her name turned out to be Katherine Marveaux and she was, until recently, a senior executive with the Ambri Corporation.
Before Nikki’s job as assistant editor consumed most of her time, she was working the Ambri case.
It was a case where the CEO publicly accused the city council president of misappropriating funds when she worked for Ambri back in the ‘90s, an allegation she denied, and this Katherine Marveaux was here to tell Nikki that the councilwoman was telling the truth.
“I was there,” she said, “when it was all set up.
It’s a lie.
A total fabrication.
They’re just trying to dissuade her from running against the mayor, who, as you know, used to be on their board of directors.
They’re just trying to bleed off some of her popularity.”
As she talk Nikki was only half listening because she was also trying to decide which reporter could handle the story.
It wasn’t a juicy one yet, but it could be, and the right reporter could make all the difference.
Helen could handle it, but she wouldn’t want it, and Cathy would want it, but she couldn’t handle it, so she split the baby and settled on Andrea.
Her writing was sometimes sloppy and she has been known to leave chunks of relevant information out of some of her stories, but with some guidance she could make it work.
In fact, Nikki was just about ready to tell her visitor to hold on a minute while she called in the reporter who would handle the story, when that visitor said the darndest thing.
“I was shocked when you didn’t get in touch with me,” she said, and Nikki was immediately shocked herself.
“Why would I have gotten in touch with you?” she asked her.
“You were questioning everybody who worked for Councilwoman Hughes.
I was certain you would check out the flip side too.”
Nikki looked confused.
“What flip side?”
“Those who know the accuser.
Shouldn’t you talk to those people too?
I mean, Ambri accused the councilwoman, not the other way around.
Ambri’s the one who should be investigated.
And I don’t mean you should talk to the people who Ambri recommends you talk to.
They’re good.
They cover their tracks.
You aren’t going to find anything on them unless you look beyond the surface.
And I mean well beyond it.
That’s when you’ll find people like me, those proverbial disgruntled employees.
We’ve got a lot to say and we’re not hampered by any loyalty either.”
And that was what threw Nikki.
They cover their tracks, her visitor had said.
Talk to the people who knew the accuser, she said, not just the people the accuser told you to talk to.
And Nikki realized it as soon as she said it.
That was what she didn’t do, that was what Jake’s investigation didn’t do.
They checked out Mo’s background thoroughly, questioning everybody who worked for him.
But what about the people who knew his accusers?
Not the ones Jameela and Tonya and Marlene told them to talk to, but the other people.
The flip side.
Those who would give an opposing view.
Nikki was too focused on the appearances of it.
Jameela French, on paper, checked out.
And so did Tonya Wright.
But it was all too neat, and she should have realized that.
They cover their tracks.
They always cover their tracks!
On paper Jameela French was this wonderful, conservative judge, a member of numerous conservative organizations, a grandmotherly figure with all the right words on paper.
What more could there be?
But what was behind the paper?
What about the people who really knew her, not the list of colleagues she recommended they speak with?
Suddenly it was making sense to Nikki.
Mo’s nomination was rescinded, his entire world was devastated, based on what?
The strength of a damn paper tiger?
She should have caught it.
She was so busy watching the magician that the trick was pulled in plain sight, right before her very eyes, but she was watching the wrong thing.
She was watching Jameela French.
Not the rabbits in her hat.
Nikki thought about Mo and the pain on his face when she invited that woman to her home, a woman she had just met, but all she had to do was tell her story and present her papers.
She was perfect, those papers said.
She didn’t have to prove a thing.
She just had to show up.
But Mo, the man she purported to love, had to do the impossible.
He had to prove his innocence.
The word of Jameela French, Nikki believed on its face, when Mo’s word wasn’t quite enough.
What in heaven’s name was she thinking?
What in heaven’s name, she thought with great dread, had she done?
She called Andrea into her office, told her to get Katherine Marveaux’s statement and take it from there, and then she hurried out of the Gazette building, jumped into her mustang, and drove like a bat out of hell to Baker County.
Maybe everything would check out on Jameela French, maybe it wouldn’t.
But she owed it to Mo to see; to at least take a closer look at the right things this time.
She was doing 90 in a 55 mile an hour zone, flying instead of driving, zooming in and out of lanes as if interstate 10 was the Talladega Speedway, and just like that she was on the roller coaster ride she swore she’d never get on again.
She was thrown by events once more.
But this time she didn’t see where she had a choice.
Lynette Harris was Judge French’s secretary.
She was the one Nikki wanted to see.
But first she had to check the docket.
Wayne, the Baker County courthouse security guard, was glad to see her when she walked in and didn’t hesitate to tell her that Judge French was in court right now, and it was a messy custody case that could take a while.
Nikki thanked him, and thanked God, and hurried upstairs.
Lynette was behind her desk doing what she did best: running her mouth on the phone.
When she saw Nikki she waved her in, took another two minutes telling her phone partner to let the dude spend his money on her if he wants to.
And then she said her goodbyes and hung up.
“Hey Nikki,” she said.
“I haven’t seen you around here in a good lil’ while.”
“How you doing, Lynette?” Nikki asked and helped herself to a sit down.
Lynette was around Nikki’s age but acted younger.
Nikki liked her.
But right now, she needed to use her.
“I’m doing good,” Lynette said.
“But I’ll be doing better when five o clock rolls around.”
“I hear that.”
“I’m afraid you may have made a blank trip, though.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Judge French is in court.”
“Oh, is she?”
“Yeah, ‘fraid so.
They may not even break for lunch.”
“Damn.
That’s tough.
And all I needed was a little background information from her.”
Lynette leaned back.
Her natural nosiness peaked her interest.
“What kind of background information?”
“The Gazette’s doing a story on successful women and I thought Judge French would make a good candidate for one of the articles.”
“Oh, she’ll love that.
But you already have enough information on her.
Don’t you?”
“I thought so,” Nikki said.
“But you know how bosses are.
They’re never satisfied.
They want a little dirt.
Which doesn’t make any sense to me.
I mean, how could you want to praise these great women but at the same time ditch the dirt on them?”
“Uh-hun,” Lynette said, folding her arms.
“Tell me about it.”
“But the boss still wants the dirt.
He doesn’t care.
He wants dirt.
So I came by thinking that maybe Jameela could just give me something.
I don’t know.”
“You ain’t too good a reporter if you think Judge French is gonna gossip on herself.
You ain’t gettin’ no dirt from her.
She’s an angel, if you listen to her.”
“What about you?”
“Me?
Hey, I’m an angel too.”
Nikki smiled.
“No, I mean, would you agree that Judge French was an angel?”
“Nobody’s an angel, Nikki, at least nobody I know.
But she’s cool.
She ain’t perfect, but she’s okay.
“You ever had any problems with her?”
“Not really.
She gets on my nerve sometimes with her complaining about how slow I type, but other than that she’s all right.”
“You ever hear her mention any trouble she may have had with anybody else?”
“You mean besides Judge Ryan?”
Nikki nodded her head.
“Yes,” she said, sadly, “besides Judge Ryan.”
Lynette thought about it.
Then she shook her head.
“Not really, no.”
“Nobody?”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.
My boss is going to be ticked but hey, I’ll just have to keep digging.”
“Well...,” Lynette said, and Nikki’s heart beat began to accelerate.
“Well what, Lynette?”
“There was this one girl.
Judge French had to fire her.”
“Really?
Who was she?”
She said this and took out her writing pad.
“Chick name Nancy Block.
She was her secretary before I got the job.
I replaced her, in fact.
But from what I heard, this Nancy Block had it in for Judge French.
She hated her.
She even threatened to file a complaint with the Judicial Conduct Board.
But she didn’t go through with it.”
Now Nikki felt that she was getting somewhere.
“Why was she fired?
And why did she hate Jameela so much?”
“Judge didn’t like Nancy’s politics, was what I heard.”