He was getting off track, though.
The point was that if he could just get his hands on the killer, and make him say who’d hired him, none of the rest would matter.
Whereas, if he abandoned that plan, he’d have a whole list of suspects to work his way through. Plus, the hit man would still be walking around free, which would leave Billy’s life in danger.
“I want to hang in here for at least a few more hours,” he told Ken at last. “My gut’s been saying that our guy’s going to show up today. Of course, that was before I knew about Sherry Sherman.”
“Yeah, well what are the odds he was watching her show?”
Probably not high, yet not zero, either. That was the trouble. However, there was no sense getting into a discussion about something they were both aware of, so he simply said, “I’ll check with the airlines. See how late I can leave here and still make it to New York before show time. There must be a redeye I could catch.”
“Okay,” Ken said. “But hopefully you won’t have to. With any luck, Billy will be in the next place I hit.”
“Right. If our killer doesn’t show here, though, and you don’t find Billy in the next little while…”
He rapidly thought through his plan one more time and concluded it had to be the best option.
“Well, I’ll check in with you later,” he said. “See where we’re at then. And good luck.”
“You too,” Ken said before clicking off.
Dan put down his phone and scanned the wall of monitors again. At the exact instant he realized Mickey Westover was no longer standing in the yard, she said, “Sounds as if you’ve got a problem.”
MICKEY MIGHT CONSIDER herself the queen of glaring contests, but the look Dan skewered her with when he wheeled around almost made her shiver.
“How long were you listening?” he demanded.
“A couple of minutes,” she said, setting her things on the counter so she could break eye contact without obviously backing down.
“I got chilly waiting outside,” she added, even though there wasn’t a chance he’d buy that. This was the middle of July and it was a hot day.
She didn’t feel even a twinge of guilt, though. Not when he’d been lying to her since the moment he’d hit her with that tackle. And especially not when an awesome story had just fallen into her lap.
But she’d better be sure she had all the blanks filled in right.
“So somebody’s out to kill Billy Brent,” she said. “And you’re expecting the guy to show up here.”
“Forget you heard that.”
“It’s not an easy kind of thing to forget. Are we talking a hit man? A hired killer?”
When Dan didn’t reply, she said, “Don’t you know?”
Wow. She could actually see him getting madder. Obviously, he didn’t like the implication that he was even marginally in the dark.
“It’s probably a contract,” he muttered at last.
Good, she was getting somewhere.
“And has this guy already tried to kill Billy? Or did someone warn him that there was a contract on him? I mean, how did he know he was in danger?”
Dan remained silent again, so she decided that asking him direct questions wasn’t the way to go. She might be better off just hypothesizing.
“I gather Billy’s been in hiding,” she pressed on. “But now he’s gone to New York. And if the killer’s heard about that TV appearance, he—”
“Look,” Dan snapped. “First, this is none of your business. Second, I don’t intend to discuss it with you. And third, just keep it entirely to yourself.”
She stared at him for a moment, wondering whether he actually thought there was even a remote chance of that.
For a journalist, a scoop like this one was heaven-sent. And she was the only journalist who had even an inkling about it, which made it that much better.
“Obviously,” Dan added, “Billy is thousands of miles away, and that means you’re not going to get your interview. So since I am expecting the killer to show up, the sooner you get out of here the better. Where’s your car?”
“Down the road.”
“Fine. I’ll drive you to it. Let’s get going.”
“Uh-uh. I’m staying.”
“What?”
His expression said he didn’t believe he could have heard right, so she said, “Look, whether the killer comes here or you go to New York to help your friend find Billy, this is a major story. And I want it.”
“What?” he said a second time, giving her an even more incredulous look.
“I said I want the story. Don’t you think I have aspirations beyond Arts and Entertainment?”
“How the hell should I know? We’ve barely met.”
“Well, I do. I want to see my byline on the front page every now and then. Preferably, more than every now and then. Dan, this is the kind of story that will do a lot to make that happen, and I might never get as good a chance again. So however things play out, I want an exclusive for the Post.”
“Listen to me carefully,” he said, enunciating his words clearly. “There is no story. There are only the two of us heading to your car. Period.”
Telling herself it was time for another change of tactics, she shrugged and reached for her laptop.
“Okay. If that’s the way it is, then I’ll have to simply write up what I have and e-mail it to my editor. It won’t be nearly the scoop I was hoping for, but just the fact that somebody’s trying to kill Billy Brent will sell a lot of papers.”
“Fine. If selling papers is so important to you, go right ahead and put Billy’s life at even greater risk than it already is.”
“How would I be doing that? If somebody’s already trying to kill him, how would my reporting it put him at any more risk? In fact, it could do the opposite. The publicity might make the killer back off.”
Dan was clearly annoyed by her logic, but he didn’t try to argue with it.
Not arguing, though, was a long way from cooperating. And without his help she wasn’t going to get the whole story, which she desperately wanted.
“Do whatever you like,” he muttered at last. “It doesn’t really matter, because by tomorrow’s edition this will be over. Either the killer will have shown up here, in which case I’ll have taken care of him, or we’ll have Billy back in hiding.”
“Tomorrow’s edition?” she said in her best puzzled manner.
“Well, you’re too late for today’s—unless the Post comes out hours after most papers.”
“But I wasn’t talking about the print edition. This is what we call breaking news. If I give the story to my boss it’ll be the lead in our online edition within minutes. So…well, maybe you’d like to reconsider. Because if you promise me an exclusive of the entire thing, I’ll hold back now.”
“You’re trying to blackmail me,” he snapped.
“No. I’m only negotiating a deal.”
“I HAVE TO KNOW whether I can trust her,” Dan said into his cell phone.
As Lydia said “No problem,” he glanced at the library door.
He’d