Different Circles

“I’m not bluffing, Veneer,” she told him. “I am dead fucking serious about this. You print that story and KVA will spare no expense to go after you. We will drag your asses through the fucking mud for however long it takes for this thing to go to trial. And you may ultimately prevail in the end. The judge and jury might just follow the letter of the law and come to the conclusion that we could not prove that what you suggest was not the truth, but that’s a pretty big chance to take, isn’t it? Because we will not accept a settlement. We will go all the way with this thing. And, win or lose, we will make sure that the court of public opinion is on Meghan’s side and not on yours. We will do everything within our power and financial means to make sure of that.”

Another long silence. At last: “Well, this has been an interesting discussion, Pauline.”

“Not the word I would use for it,” she said.

“I will take your words under consideration,” he said. “I will talk to Jack about the story and see what he thinks.”

“You do whatever your need to do, Veneer,” she said, “but just remember that if you print this story, it means war. Total, complete, unrestricted warfare. If you want to print articles about Jake, about Laura, about Celia, hell, even about me and Obie, you go right ahead and sling your mud. But we are not going to let you get away with smearing this young girl who has done nothing but accept a job to take care of a child.”

“As I said,” Veneer told her. “I’ll take your words under consideration.”

The phone call ended. Pauline sat and looked at her notes for a moment, feeling the buzz of battle adrenaline flowing through her body. Finally, she stood and left the office. Obie was still sitting on the couch, sipping a drink. Tabby was still watching Blue’s Clues.

“How’d it go?” Obie asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I gave it my best though.”

Obie smiled. “Then I’m guessing that story ain’t gonna run come Friday.”

“Time will tell,” she said.

His smile got a little wider. “You know, you look really hot when you’re in battle mode.”

“Do I?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “You figure we could slip away for a bit while Blue is entertaining Tabs here?”

“I think maybe we could,” she said.

The week went on. Pauline concentrated her energies on looking into the references and background of one Miles O’Leary, a forty-two-year-old who was a crop duster pilot for a small outfit that operated out of Colusa, California by profession and the saxophone player for the semi-professional jazz band the Dixie Doodles, who had performed at the Dixieland Jazz Jubilee. Meghan continued to take care of Caydee each day while her stomach flirted with the beginnings of a peptic ulcer caused by stress.

Friday morning came. The new edition of the American Watcher hit the newsstands. The lead story on the front page was concerned with the Monica Lewinsky and Slick Willie scandal. There was no new information in this story, just a rehash of already printed allegations. It had all the looks of a stock story that had been composed weeks earlier and held in reserve for when it was needed.

There was not a single word written about Meghan Zachary.

Chapter 26: The Tour Packages

Oceano, California

June 15, 1998

It was Monday morning, the start of the new workweek, and there was a slight difference to the routine in the Kingsley household. Jake, Laura, Caydee, and Meghan still gathered at the breakfast table at 7:20 AM to eat what Elsa had prepared for them (it was a kielbasa, egg, and cheese scramble with onions and peppers, served with toast). Jake and Laura were freshly showered and dressed for the day. Caydee was still in her pajamas because she always ended up wearing a good portion of her breakfast, making it pointless to dress her until after the meal. Meghan took her showers before going to bed, but she was dressed in her clothes for the day: a pair of white shorts and a maroon sleeveless blouse. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail. She seemed a little restless this morning, unable to sit still. Elsa, like normal, did not eat with them. All of this was pretty normal. The difference was the radio was playing as they ate. It was turned on and tuned to the SLO hard rock station, KLBA. At any moment now, Matt’s first release from his new CD—the title cut—was supposed to be aired for the first time.

Fuel, by Metallica, was currently in its outro. It had only been released for airplay the previous week and Jake was still not quite sure what he thought about it. It had energy, and some good riffs by Kirk Hammett, but it seemed to be missing some fundamental element that had always been present in classic Metallica. He was not quite able to put his finger on just what that element was, but he could tell it was not there.