The Cost of Commitment - KJ2

by Lynn Ames

  “Actually, she kicked me out the door this morning—wanted to know when you were going to get me out of her hair.” Jay winked.

  “Well, far be it for me to disappoint that woman. After all, I hear she has connections in dark and dreary places.” Trish consulted her ever-present storyboard. “Okay. It’s action you want, eh? I think we can do something about that...”

  “Hi, baby. The honeymoon’s over.”

  “Um, Jay? Don’t we have to be married before you can say that?”

  “Well, normally I’d say yes, but in this case...”

  “Have I done something wrong?”

  “Quite to the contrary you beautiful, sexy woman.”

  “Okay, now I’m really lost.”

  “Katherine Kyle, you’re a genius, and if I were there, I’d give you a big, wet kiss.”

  “I can live with that, but what does all this have to do with our honeymoon?”

  “You were right pushing me to talk to Trish. Seems she’s been intentionally keeping me close to home so you and I would have more time together.”

  “I knew I liked that woman.”

  “Ahem. But now that she knows I’m itching for good stories...”

  Kate sighed. “I’ve shot myself in the foot, haven’t I?”

  Jay laughed. “Pretty much.”

  “Where’re you headed, Scoop?”

  Lynn Ames

  “There’s an upstart AIDS awareness political action group: the AIDS

  Coalition to Unleash Power.”

  “That’s a mouthful.”

  “Right, smart girl, which is why they go by the name ACT UP.

  They’re just starting to make some serious waves and Trish wants someone on the inside to chronicle their rise.”

  “Cool acronym. You’re going undercover? As an activist? Oh, that could be fun. Jay as a zealot. Very sexy.”

  “Very funny, Stretch. Keep it up and I might just have to cut you off.”

  “C-cut me off? You wouldn’t. You couldn’t.”

  “Do you really want to find out, hot stuff?”

  “Jay, sweetheart, honey, doll? This assignment sounds perfect for you.”

  “That’s better.” Jay’s laughter faded. “Actually, I’m not going undercover at all, I’m just going to shadow the group and its leaders—

  learn about their tactics and philosophy—talk to them.”

  “That sounds like it should be really interesting, baby.”

  “I think so, too. Honey, the downside is that I’m going to have to stay here in New York for a little while.”

  Kate tried to hide her disappointment. Jay’s talents had been wasted in the past few months on second-rate stories that didn’t challenge her considerable intellect, leaving her restless and frustrated. The assignment was just what she needed to get her out of her funk. “Well, sweetheart, that’s why you kept your apartment in New York. At least you’ll be comfortable while you’re working and not stuck in some generic hotel room.”

  “Thank you for understanding, Kate. I wish you could be here with me.”

  “That would be fun, but there are pressing matters here I have to attend to.” Kate thought about the cryptic phone call she’d gotten from Wendy Ashton of the Associated Press half an hour earlier. She was scheduled to meet her in a parking garage downtown after dark, and she hadn’t a clue why. The reporter had refused to say over the phone and sounded downright panicked when Kate tried to push her on the matter.

  She returned her attention to Jay. “Do you want me to send Fred down to keep you company?”

  “No, Kate. He’ll be much happier up there with you. I’ll be fine. Call you tonight?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll tuck you in and put you to sleep.”

  “Don’t forget the warm milk and cookies, Mom.” Jay’s chuckle echoed down the phone line as she hung up.

  The Cost of Commitment

  “Hello, Wendy.” Kate considered making a joke about reporters having clandestine meetings with sources in dark parking garages when she got a good look at the woman approaching her. She was gaunt, her razor-sharp features made even more pronounced by stress. Her navy slacks and tan blazer were rumpled, and her salt-and-pepper hair was in disarray. While Wendy Ashton wasn’t the sharpest dresser or the neatest person she knew, Kate recognized her disheveled appearance as being out of character.

  “Kate. Thanks for meeting me here like this.” The reporter’s eyes darted around the garage.

  “What’s going on, Wendy? You look out of sorts.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t usually have assholes threatening to toss me out of the closet.”

  “Who?” Kate was instantly alert.

  “Your lovely predecessor, that’s who,” she spat out.

  “Breathwaite threatened to out you as a lesbian?”

  “Yep.” The reporter took a deep breath, apparently satisfied that they were alone. “It was the strangest thing. I get a call at my desk at around 2:30 this afternoon and it’s him. He starts off wanting to know what I think about the job you’re doing at DOCS.”

  Kate tried to look surprised for propriety’s sake, but the truth was that Breathwaite blackmailing reporters into writing damaging stories was exactly the scenario she and Peter had surmised. Perhaps now they would get closer to finding out the rest of his game.

  The reporter continued, “I thought that was pretty odd, so I pulled out my tape recorder and plugged it into the line. I figured he’s always up to something, and whatever he had up his sleeve this time, I wanted to be prepared.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Wendy smiled weakly. “Thanks, but there was no way I was ready for this.” She pulled a small microcassette recorder out of her blazer pocket and pressed the “play” button.

  “So, ah, here’s the thing.” Breathwaite’s nasal twang filled the air between Kate and Wendy. “What if I told you Kyle wasn’t telling you everything about what happened yesterday with that officer at Coxsackie?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “What if I told you she regularly leaves out facts, the net result being that you look like a fool, your ass hanging in the breeze.”

  “If that were true, why in the world would you tell me? Aren’t you and Kate on the same side of the equation?”

  “Perhaps I just want to help you.”

  Lynn Ames

  The reporter’s taped laughter echoed loudly in the stillness of the dark concrete structure.

  “David, you’ve never cared about anyone but yourself. So why don’t you get to the point and tell me what this is really about and stop wasting both of our time.”

  “Listen to me, you two-bit dyke,” he hissed, “I can end your career in less than the time it takes you to turn on your tape recorder.”

  “What do you want, you slimebag?”

  “I want you to write a story that will be carried wide—every major daily in the state, and radio, too. I want you to discredit Kyle.”

  “Or?”

  “Or I will out you in spectacular fashion to your bosses, your peers, every news outlet worldwide. I’ll get you so much ink you won’t be able to find a job taking out the trash. Oh, and your lovely girlfriend? I’m sure all of the attention will sit well with her father the ultraconservative congressman.”

  “You prick.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty.”

  “What kind of story are you looking for?”

  “It has to be something that will end her fledgling career as a PIO.”

  “It will take me time to put something like that together.”

  “You have seventy-two hours. Good-bye, Wendy. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Wait!”

  “Yes?”

  “What’s in it for you, Breathwaite?”

  “That’s of no concern to you, Ms. Ashton. Just take care of business.”

  The dial tone turned to a faint hiss.

  “My, isn’t he just the charmer.” Kate forced a smile. “Why are you sharing this with me
?”

  “Because you’ve always dealt fairly with me. Because I know what you went through, and I would be the last one on Earth to put you through yet another undeserved professional hardship. Because I like you. But most of all because it pisses me off to be blackmailed, especially by a twerp like Breathwaite.”

  “Fair enough. What are you going to do?”

  “I haven’t figured out a game plan yet. But I’m going to take him down if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “I can’t say I’d shed a tear if that happened, but I’m not sure that’s the best course of action for the immediate future.”

  “What? Kate, I like what I do. If I don’t take him down, I either have to go along with him, which puts you in jeopardy, or I get outed and lose my job.”

  The Cost of Commitment

  “Wendy, if you take him down now, he’ll out you anyway. While exposing him might make you feel better in the short term, it won’t solve your problem.”

  “You’re awfully cool for someone whose neck is on the line.”

  Kate laughed humorlessly. “He can’t take away from me the things that really matter. He can ruin my career.” She looked pointedly at the reporter. “Don’t get me wrong, that would pain me greatly. I’ve worked very hard to get where I am in life, and I like to think I do a damn good job. But my professional life pales in comparison to what I have personally, and he can’t touch that.”

  “Okay, I can understand that. So what do you suggest?”

  “You’ve got another two days to work with, right?”

  “Yes. Tick tock.”

  “Give me until tomorrow night to come up with something, okay?”

  “I guess.” The reporter began to turn away.

  “Wendy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for coming to me with this. You’re a good person.”

  “Don’t tell my mother that. She thinks I’m the demon spawn from hell.”

  “By the way, did Breathwaite know you were taping him?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Oh.” Kate was disappointed, knowing that such evidence might never be admissible in a court, if it ever came to that.

  “But Kate?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t ever pick up the phone until the caller hears my taped voice informing him that the conversation may be taped, and that by staying on the line, he is consenting to being taped.”

  “Wendy, I love you!”

  The reporter smiled for the first time that evening. “Does your girlfriend know?”

  “Very funny. Hey, can I borrow the tape? I promise to give it back to you.”

  “You know a good reporter never gives up a tape.”

  Kate blew out a breath. “I understand.”

  Wendy touched her on the arm to force eye contact.

  “But I did make you a copy.” She winked. “I’ll call you at home tomorrow night.”

  “Better yet, let’s meet at the Falcon at 10:00.”

  “Oh, very wicked, Ms. Kyle. The asshole would never think to look for us in a gay bar.”

  Lynn Ames

  Later that night Kate and Peter sat at his kitchen table, Fred at their feet and a speakerphone between them.

  “What’s going on, you two? You call me on speakerphone at 11:00 at night? You must be up to no good.”

  “Why half-pint, I believe I should be objecting to your insinuation.”

  “Oh, big word for you, big guy.”

  “Okay, you two, knock it off before I send you both to your rooms without supper.”

  “She’s such a killjoy, Jay, isn’t she?”

  There was a snort on the other end of the line. “Um, Peter? Do you really want me to answer that?”

  The technology expert had the good grace to blush. “I suppose not,”

  he mumbled.

  “Right, then,” Kate said. “I had a very interesting meeting this evening with Wendy Ashton, a reporter for the Associated Press. Seems our friend Mr. Breathwaite tried to blackmail her today.”

  “Now there’s a surprise.” Peter couldn’t help himself.

  “With what?” Jay chimed in.

  “Her sexuality.”

  “Oh, that’s original.”

  “It doesn’t have to be original, Jay, it just has to be effective.”

  “I know, honey, it just galls me that living your life honestly makes you vulnerable.”

  Kate wondered if her lover would ever get past being angry about the circumstances surrounding Kate’s dismissal from WCAP. “Me too, babe, but it’s a price I, for one, am happy to pay.”

  Peter forced their thoughts back to the issue at hand. “Why is she telling you this? Why not just do what the asshole wants and save herself?”

  “I asked her the same thing. She’s clearly no fan of his, I’ve always given her a fair shake, and she’d love to nail his slimy butt to the wall.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “What does he want from her?” Jay asked, the indignation clear in her voice.

  “He wants her to write a story for wide distribution that will force the governor and the commissioner to fire me.”

  Jay’s growl echoed in Peter’s kitchen, prompting a chuckle from Kate.

  “Down, girl.”

  “I’d like to wring his scrawny little neck.”

  “I know the feeling, sweetheart, but I’m not sure that homicide would solve our problem.”

  The Cost of Commitment

  “What do you mean?”

  “She means,” Peter said, “that Breathwaite can’t reinstall himself as PIO, so he must be only part of the equation.”

  “Exactly. Which is why we need to carefully consider our next move.

  If we flush him out now, we’re still going to be on the defensive, wondering who else is out there and reacting to whatever their game is.”

  “Kate’s right, Jay. We need to let this play out further until we can identify whoever else is behind all this.”

  “So we’re just supposed to sit here and watch him shred her publicly like this?”

  “To some extent, yes.”

  “No way.”

  “Jay, sweetheart, I love your protective side, but Peter’s got a point.

  And neither one of us is advocating that we let the jerk succeed, just that we let him keep trying.”

  “But what about Wendy? If she doesn’t do his bidding, he’ll go after her.”

  “Which is why we have to help her write a story that will satisfy Breathwaite, but not be sufficiently damaging to Kate to require her removal.”

  “Got any ideas, Jay?”

  The line went quiet for several moments as all three contemplated the possibilities.

  “We can’t let him continue to attack your credibility, that’s for sure.

  How about if we let her write something personal?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Give her the story every tabloid’s been clamoring for.”

  “No.”

  “Kate...”

  “Absolutely not. Out of the question, Jay.”

  “Just hear me out.”

  “No. I’ve spent how many months protecting your identity, keeping the vultures away? Now you want me to let them have at you intentionally?”

  “Well, Breathwaite could hardly argue that Wendy didn’t give him something big, and it wouldn’t weaken your standing on the job, since your sexuality is hardly a secret.”

  “Jay could be on to something here, Kate.”

  “Unacceptable. I won’t do it.”

  “Honey.” Jay’s gentle tone touched Kate’s heart, as it never failed to do. “Trish already knows, and she’s stood by me. He can’t hurt me, and I’d be damn proud to be identified as your lover. Heck, imagine the envy out there. I’d acquire a reputation as a stud overnight!”

  Lynn Ames

  “I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.”

  “Kate, you know I’m right.”

  “Y
ou’re correct that giving him something personal, rather than professional, might be the right thing to do. But not that. Tell you what,”

  Kate sighed, “let’s make the story about my parents’ deaths.”

  “How does that satisfy Breathwaite?”

  “The drunk who killed them never served time. We could slant the story to sound like my bitterness at the criminal justice system affects my performance in the job.”

  “That’s professional.”

  “Not really. The focus would be on this orphaned eighteen-year-old with an axe to grind who schemed for years to get back at the system that abandoned her. Like all the other stories that have been written to date, it has elements of truth, but this time she gets extra points for bringing in a personal angle.”

  Peter considered. “I like it. It’s different than what’s being written now, which might satisfy Breathwaite temporarily, yet so far-fetched that it won’t even raise the commissioner’s eyebrow.”

  Kate added, “And we get the added bonus of controlling the story.”

  “Right.”

  “Kate, I know that was a painful time for you. Are you going to be all right with this?”

  Kate tried to ignore the ache that always accompanied thoughts of her parents’ deaths. This was an area that she held most private; even Jay didn’t know the depth of her feelings or thoughts on the subject. As she had for years, she shut down the emotions that threatened to swallow her.

  “Thanks, baby. It was a long time ago, and while I miss my parents every day, I don’t waste a second of my time on the scumbag who ran them into that tree.”

  “Do you think Wendy will go along with it?”

  “I think there’s a good chance she might if I can convince her that the story will be enough to get Breathwaite off her back and out of her bedroom.”

  “What was she planning to do with the tape?”

  Kate laughed. “I think it has something to do with proctology.”

  “Delicately put, love.”

  “Yeah.”

  “When will you talk to her next?”

  “We’re meeting at the Falcon tomorrow night.”

  “I do love your sense of humor. Don’t be letting any strays follow you home.”

  “No worries, my love, you’re the only one with a key.”

  The Cost of Commitment