by Lynn Ames
“The hack was catastrophic and surgical. That’s why the Feds immediately focused on our guy. Whoever got in there was that good.”
“Does Sabas… the Frog know who did it, or how?”
“No, and it’s eating him up.”
“I can just imagine.” Kate pictured Sabastien, his fingers flying across a keyboard, smashing through virtual back doors to gain access to highly protected information, tracing every keystroke that preceded his. “Peter?”
“Hmm?”
“Who was the reporter?”
“I was wondering when you were going to get around to asking that. It was Niles.”
“Niles Masterson?”
Jay gasped. “That was who the hacker sent the files to? Niles? Any word—”
Kate held up a hand. “Do you know what Niles did with the information?”
“I don’t know everything yet. I’m still trying to get a handle on it, but I can tell you this much—he called the former First Lady to verify that her husband was asthmatic and that his inhaler was tampered with.”
“He called Mimi Hyland? Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
“Niles called—”
“Give me a second, honey,” Kate said to Jay. To Peter, she said, “And you know this because…”?
“Because, after she alerted the Secret Service about a reporter for Time magazine knowing details of the incident that were never made public, Mrs. Hyland decided she should check with me to see if I had any idea what was going on.”
“I didn’t realize you’d remained in contact with her.”
“Do you remember last June, at President Hyland’s funeral, when she asked me to stay behind for a minute?”
“Yes.”
“She told me she wanted to let go of the former President’s Secret Service detail. She didn’t feel comfortable with the taxpayers footing the bill for her safety. So she asked me if she could keep in touch with me. She asked if I would watch out for her. She said that she trusted me because her husband trusted me and because we had a history.”
“That’s nice.”
“We don’t talk often, but when something comes up and she thinks I can be helpful, she calls.”
“Is that the reason that our guy managed to stay a step ahead?”
“Katherine Kyle, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t. Anything else you want to share?”
“That’s all I’ve got right now.”
“You’ll keep us posted?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks. See you when we get back.” Just as Kate ended the call, Jay’s cell phone rang.
“Oh my God! Not already.”
“Who is it?”
“My editor at Black Quill.” Jay answered the call. “Jamison Parker.” She listened for a minute.
“Yes, I know who Niles is. He was my fact-checking intern at Time before I left. I was the one who got him a job on staff as a reporter.” Jay listened some more.
“He’s asking you to verify that the details of my plot are based on real incidents that are still classified?” After another second, Jay asked, “What did you tell him?” Jay went pale underneath her makeup. “No, I understand. Thanks for the heads up.” She cleared her throat. “Well, I’m in Los Angeles right now at a function. I can sit down with you and the publisher when I get back in a few days.”
Jay turned away to stare out the window. “Yes. Two o’clock Thursday afternoon. I’ll be there. Bye.” She put the phone down on the seat and faced Kate. “That didn’t take long.”
“What did he say?”
“In light of the questions being asked, the publisher is being advised by counsel to put the book on hold until they can do more fact gathering to ensure that I haven’t revealed any state secrets.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“I wish.” Jay opened her clutch and stuffed the phone inside. “What did Peter say?”
“He said that Niles called Mimi Hyland to ask about the asthma inhaler. And that Mrs. Hyland called the Secret Service to report it. Then she called Peter to ask him about it. That’s how Sabastien managed to disappear before the Feds showed up at his door.”
“Peter alerted him.”
“Yes. We all know Sabastien didn’t do this. But someone with a similar skill set did.”
“And Sabastien is our best hope to figure out who that someone is.”
“Exactly.”
“And he can’t do that if he’s locked up somewhere.” Jay shook her head. “Kate, what am I going to do?”
Just as she was about to answer, the limo pulled up in front of the Beverly Hilton. Reporters and television cameras lined a red carpet. Kate took Jay’s hand. “For right now, you’re going to smile for the cameras and we’re going to get through tonight.”
“What if someone asks me a question on the way in?”
Kate considered. “I doubt word would’ve spread that quickly. But if someone does ask something, just act like you don’t hear the question and keep moving.”
The limo driver opened the door and Kate squeezed Jay’s hand. “We’ve got this, sweetheart.” She looked deeply into her wife’s eyes. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
CHAPTER TWO
The ballroom was abuzz with A-list celebrities, movers and shakers from the world of politics, chief executive officers of Fortune 500 companies, media giants, and assorted others, all dressed in their finest formal wear.
Dara guided Rebecca to the assigned table for honored guests and GLAAD board members at the front of the room. As she scanned the room, her eyes alighted on a striking couple striding toward them. Although she recognized them from publicity photos, she thought idly that the pictures didn’t do them justice.
“Hi, Dara. I’m Kate Kyle, and this is my wife—”
“Jamison Parker,” Dara said, before Kate could get the words out. She put her hand out and shook Kate’s hand, then Jay’s. “I’m so glad to meet you both.”
“Jay, please. You know who I am?”
When Jay’s cheeks turned an endearing shade of pink, Dara smiled. “I’m sorry. I wish you could see the expression on your face right now. Of course I know who you are. I’m a big fan.”
“She particularly loved Six Steps from Heaven. Hello. I’m Dara’s wife, Rebecca.”
“I know,” Jay said. “I loved your adaptation of Constance Darrow’s work for the big screen. She’s one of my favorite authors—her themes are so nuanced and complex, and you absolutely kept the integrity of the story. That was brilliant and no mean feat.”
“Well, my wife is brilliant.” Dara beamed proudly and slid her arm around Rebecca’s waist.
“Oh, my gosh. You were fabulous in the role of Celeste, Dara,” Jay added. “I should have said so, first.”
“No, you got the order of things exactly right. If Rebecca’s revision of the original script hadn’t been so inspired, I never would’ve won the Oscar.”
“Not true,” Rebecca said. “You’re a Constance Darrow fan?” she asked Jay.
Dara noted the pride in Rebecca’s voice and prayed that it wasn’t as obvious to everyone else. She subtly increased the pressure of her hold on Rebecca’s waist in warning.
“More like a devotee. I wish my prose were half as elegant as hers. I can’t wait to see what you did with Love Above All Else.”
Before Rebecca could say anything more, Dara asked, “Why don’t you two come to the premiere with us? It’s the day-after-tomorrow here in LA.”
Jay’s eyes grew wide. “Y-you can’t be serious.”
Dara laughed easily, completely charmed by Jay’s guilelessness. “Utterly, one hundred percent serious.” She watched as Jay and Kate communicated in that silent way that only couples who had been together for a long time can do.
Kate put her arm around Jay’s shoulder. “We’d love to. It’s incredibly gracious of you to ask.”
“Excellent. I’ll put you on the lis
t. Where are you staying?”
“Chateau Marmont.”
“I’ll have a car pick you up at five o’clock. Will that work for you? We can go to the premiere and then have dinner afterward.”
“Pinch me, because I must be dreaming.”
“Thank you,” Kate said. “You just made my wife’s week.”
“That was easy.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance Constance will be attending? I mean, she’s never made a public appearance that I’m aware of, but this is her work. Surely she’d make an exception,” Jay said.
“Kate. Jay. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Dara breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption.
“Good to see you, Jasper,” Kate said. “Have you met our Vanguard Award winner yet? Jasper Lyons, Chairman of the GLAAD Board of Directors, meet Dara and Rebecca Thomas.”
“A pleasure to meet you, ladies. We’re so honored that you could make it.”
“I appreciate the recognition,” Dara said. “We love the work you do.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, but we’re about to get started and I need to borrow our honorary co-chairs.”
“We understand,” Rebecca said.
When they were alone, Dara leaned over and whispered in Rebecca’s ear. “Darling, you have got to work on your poker face. You nearly gave Constance away.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just so proud of you it’s hard to resist the urge to make the connection. Surely you don’t think it would be problematic if we shared your alter ego with Jay?”
Dara sighed. Jay was a gifted writer and she’d been telling the truth—she was an admirer of Jay’s work, as was Rebecca. More than once Rebecca had told her that if she’d still been teaching American Literature, she would have loved to include Jay’s books in her syllabus. Still, the fact that Constance Darrow was Dara’s pseudonym remained a closely guarded secret. Only Rebecca and Dara’s agent and best friend, Carolyn Detweiler, knew the truth.
“You don’t have to answer that.” Rebecca broke into Dara’s rumination. “I promised you a long time ago that I would never divulge anything about Constance, and I meant it. Whether you want to share all of yourself with anyone else is completely up to you, and I will always respect that.”
Dara kissed Rebecca on the cheek. “I know.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please take your seats,” Jasper announced from the podium on stage. “Welcome to the 2016 GLAAD Media Awards, sponsored by…”
Jay cinched the belt of her robe around her waist, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and opened the door to admit the bellboy.
“Good morning, ma’am. Where would you like this?”
“Over there will be fine, thanks.” Jay pointed to the coffee table in front of the couch in the living room of their small bungalow. She waited for the young man to finish, signed for their breakfast, and handed him a tip on the way out.
“Breakfast is served,” she called in the direction of the bedroom. She lifted the cover off one of the plates and sniffed appreciatively as the smell of bacon wafted up toward her. “I will wait for Kate. I will wait for Kate.” She replaced the lid in order to resist temptation.
A copy of today’s USA Today caught her eye. She picked it up from the tray and unfolded it to scan the headlines.
New Hacking Scandal Rocks Homeland Security. Jay nearly stumbled as she sank onto the sofa.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t you eat…”
Jay barely noticed as Kate sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I can’t believe it’s already out there.” She read the story, her heart sinking a little more with every word.
Confidential sources tell USA Today that the FBI is searching for a single suspect who allegedly breached sophisticated firewalls and leaked highly classified Homeland Security documents to a Time magazine reporter.
Officials with Homeland Security and the FBI refused to comment, but one anonymous, high-ranking source identifies the alleged hacker as Sabastien Vaupaul, a private contractor who reportedly has worked closely for many years with the federal government.
Thus far, Time is withholding the extent of the information it obtained and the source of the leak, except to say the files date back decades to the presidency of Charles Hyland.
Conspiracy theorists have long argued that the Hyland administration covered up crucial facts about the murky circumstances under which the President was taken hostage as part of a treasonous plot to overthrow him by his vice president and associates.
This is a breaking news story. Please go to www.usatoday.com for the most recent updates.
“It’s just supposition. Look at the number of times they use the words ‘allegedly’ and ‘reportedly.’”
Jay shook her head. “For now. You and I both know they must have an ironclad source to publish Sabastien’s name without corroboration from an official source. They would never risk it otherwise.”
Kate took the paper from Jay and laid it aside. “Maybe. But that’s not your primary concern.”
“What do you mean?”
“What you’re really worried about is that they’ll connect the hack to you and the book.”
“That’s not fair. I’m truly worried about Sabastien.”
“Of course. But you and I both know it’s more than that.”
Jay tucked her legs underneath her and folded her arms across her chest. “It won’t take them a day to dig up the story I wrote for Time back then.”
“You’re right. But remember, in the name of national security, the president’s staff convinced Time to edit out a lot of the specifics of the incident, including the existence of the Commission.”
“I remember it well. And I agreed with it at the time. If anybody knew how pervasive and extensive that organization was, or how close they came to controlling some of the world’s most influential governments and industries, it would have been disastrous.”
“A secretive organization comprised of hundreds of operatives from all walks of life, embedded in all public and private sectors, intent on running the world its own way, by its own code, heedless of the consequences, and acting above the law. I don’t know that anyone would’ve believed it,” Kate said.
“That’s why it would’ve made great fiction.” Jay swallowed around the lump in her throat. She had worked so hard on this book. In many ways, she believed it was her best work to date.
“Don’t use the past tense.”
“Black Quill is pulling the plug on the book.”
“Not necessarily.”
Jay rolled her eyes. “Come on, Kate. Why do you think they want to meet with me on Thursday? They’re not going to risk the controversy.”
“Controversy sells books.”
“Or ruins publishing houses.”
Kate stared at Jay.
“What?”
“I’m trying to figure out when you became such a pessimist.”
“I’m not—”
“I wish you could hear yourself.”
Jay bit back the sharp retort. This morass wasn’t Kate’s fault. “You should eat before your omelet gets cold.” She stood up.
“Where are you going? We both need to eat.”
“I don’t have much of an appetite now, thanks.” Jay walked away and into the bedroom.
“Jay…”
Jay sat down on the side of the bed. She just needed a minute to get control of her emotions. Was Kate right? Was she overreacting? Perhaps, once she had a chance to sit down with Black Quill, they would move ahead with the book as scheduled.
“Hey.” Kate stood in the doorway.
“Hey, yourself.”
“Do you need some alone time? Or can we talk through this together?”
The uncertainty in Kate’s voice cut directly to Jay’s heart. All these years, they’d gotten through every crisis, every tough moment, together. She went to Kate and stepped into her welcoming embrace.
“I’m sorry. I
don’t know what’s going on with me.”
Kate pulled her closer and kissed her on the top of the head. “You’ve got a lot invested in this novel. This story is personal in a way that transcends any fiction you’ve written before. I know what it took for you to dredge up all those memories, all that emotion you worked so hard to heal.”
Jay rested her head against Kate’s neck and placed her hand on the center of Kate’s chest. “We,” she corrected. “All the emotion we, as in you and I, worked so hard to heal. It was painful for both of us, believing we’d lost each other, learning to open ourselves fully and to trust again. Thank you for letting me back in.”
Kate tipped Jay’s chin up and kissed her softly on the mouth. “You were my heartbeat. You still are. I stopped living the moment I got the news that your car had been forced over that cliff and that there were no signs of survivors. When you found your way home to me, it took some time for me to accept that it was real, and that you wouldn’t be taken away from me again.”
Jay felt Kate’s back tighten and she rubbed soothing circles to ease the tension there.
“I understand that feeling. When I saw your face on CNN and they were saying you were dead, everything came flooding back for me. I’d been trying so hard to regain my memory after the accident, it was downright cruel to remember who I was only to learn that the life I was fighting to return to no longer existed.” Jay caressed Kate’s face and gazed into eyes that held traces of long-buried suffering. “I knew that without you, my life was over. When Peter told me you were alive and on the run from the Commission, I had no idea what to think and no way to process all that had happened.”
Kate stilled Jay’s hand, drew it to her mouth, and kissed her palm. “Even now, those events have power for both of us. Is it any wonder that you’re off balance? I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”
“What do you think is really happening with this hack?” Jay asked.
“I’m not sure. Why don’t we sit down and map out what we know. We can look at synchronicities and try to extrapolate reasonable explanations. That should give us a starting point.”
Jay let Kate lead her back out to the couch in the living room. She grabbed the pen and the pad of paper with the Chateau Marmont crest from the end table and wrote: Facts. Then she looked up expectantly at Kate.
