got that 'off the record' bit on tape.'
'Just making sure my off the record is on the record.'
Paulina laughed. The waiter arrived with a glass of pineapple juice, pulpy and thick. Paulina took a small sip, then pointed a long fingernail at me.
'You know, I always thought Wallace was smart to bring you onboard at the Gazette. That place is an old man's club.
And old men don't get younger-they die. And if nobody is there to take over when they finally kick the bucket, the paper will die, too. It was smart of him to inject some new blood.'
'You've spilled enough ink calling for my blood this year,
I didn't think you cared so much.'
She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. 'This is business, honey. You sell newspapers. Cute, young guy like you.
Remember that actor from The Sopranos, supposedly killed a cop? Every day his mug was on the front page we couldn't print enough papers. Half the people that buy our rags don't
read them, sweetie, they look at the headlines and the pictures and move on to pictures of Paris Hilton in a bikini. The least we can do is give them something to hold their interest.'
'Like Mya and David Loverne.'
Paulina shrank back. I could tell I'd struck a nerve. It felt good, but I couldn't dig too deep. I was here for a reason.
'You know I never wanted to see either of them hurt.' She meant it. 'Mya is a lost soul. People like reading about lost souls, and they like to have someone to blame for it. You and
Get-Around-Town Loverne were easy marks. But you're not so innocent yourself. I checked the hospital records. She was admitted with those facial wounds. You really did hang up on her when she called you. Your own girlfriend, lying beaten on the street, and you turn the ringer off. Brave man.'
'Keep punching, if it makes you feel better. I've lived with it for a year and a half and I'll never forgive myself. But I wasn't the one who hit her. And I've learned to live with the rest of it.'
'You say potato, I say poh-tahto. So here's the deal,'
Paulina said, ignoring the waiter as he brought over her bagel.
'You don't like me. That's fine. I have a man who makes me come twice a night so I don't need more friends. But you called me, Mr. Parker. So why am I here?'
'Because I've got a story for you,' I said.
Paulina eyed me while she smeared cream cheese into the crater where the bagel had been dug out. 'You've got a story for me? I hope it doesn't end with you squeezing sour grapes, because that's a boring story and you're the only schmuck who wants to read it.'
'It's not sour grapes,' I said. 'Those are there, don't get me wrong, but that's not why I called you. I have another story.
A better story. A story that will help you beat the Gazette tomorrow if you have time to make it into the national edition.'
'I'm sorry, did Ted Allen put you on the payroll without telling me?' Paulina asked. She took a bite of her bagel, washed it down with pineapple juice. That combination couldn't taste good.
'I have a once-in-a-lifetime lead. But Wallace won't let me run with it. He said it'd stir up a ton of controversy and he doesn't need more of that from me right now. He wants me to lay low.'
Paulina's eyes lit up at the word controversy.
'So why come to me?' she said. 'Why not take it to a magazine?'
'It needs to run as soon as possible. There's a maniac out there and I think this could smoke him out. And if Wallace is too scared to run it, it's my duty to make sure it runs somewhere. I'm a journalist. My duty is to the truth first, my paycheck second.'
'It has to do with this Billy the Kid angle,' Paulina said.
'That's right.'
'Do tell.'
'Does the name Mark Rheingold ring a bell?'
She thought for a moment, tapping her nails against the tabletop. 'Religious guy, right? Had some big church down
South.'
'Close enough. Do a little digging and you'll find out just how big this guy was.'
'So what's your point?'
I told Paulina what I'd discovered. Every word of it. I told her how the Roberts family had died in that fire, along with
Pastor Rheingold. I told her how William Henry Roberts's body was never found, and the county covered it up. How
Roberts had been presumed dead for four years, and was continuing the bloody legacy of his ancestor, Billy the Kid.
Paulina listened transfixed. Yet there was fear in her eyes.
She knew I'd done enough digging so that this wasn't some half-baked concoction. She could tell from my eyes that the closest thing to a real demon this city had ever seen was currently walking the streets, had killed David Loverne and three others and tried to kill Mya. I told her all of it.
'I still don't understand,' she said, her voice much softer, the confidence gone. 'Mark Rheingold, why was he at that house? If William Roberts really did…' she paused before she said it '…kill his whole family, why kill Rheingold, too?'
I told her about the rumors of Rheingold's affairs with his congregants. I told her about the photo I'd unearthed.
'I think Rheingold was having an affair with Meryl
Roberts, William's mother. I think William's father knew about it. That's why Roberts killed Rheingold. He was killing the man who brought disgrace to his family, Billy's family.'
'Jesus,' Paulina said. She looked like she'd aged ten years in the last ten minutes. 'And you want me to print this?'
I reached under the table and unzipped my knapsack. I handed her dozens of pages of documents. Copies of all the research I'd done, the photos I'd unearthed. Everything proving Brushy Bill Roberts was Billy the Kid, and that
William considered himself heir to the throne.
'Between William and Billy they've killed almost thirty people.' I looked at Paulina, her face grave. 'You got into this business for the same reason I did. At least at first. You wanted to tell the truth. You wanted to find the stories that matter.
Well, here's one that will rewrite history, and with any luck save some lives. I don't want a byline or any credit. You can take that. But it needs to run tomorrow. And if anything I said gets on the record in my voice, I swear to God I will make you pay for the rest of your life. I've lost my girlfriend. I've lost Mya. There's nothing more dangerous than someone with nothing to lose. Right now all I have is my integrity. You take that, I will make your life a living hell. I will sue you and
Ted Allen and the Dispatch for printing that shit about Mya and me. I will lie through my teeth and tell people I fucked you and then dumped your ass and that's why you're so spiteful.'
'What happened to the truth?' Paulina said sarcastically.
'Just this once, I'll not only stoop to your level, I'll wave hello from six levels lower.'
'I'll run it,' she said, knowing I was serious. She tucked the file into her purse. It barely fit. I knew she'd take good care of it. 'But if it's going to run I need to leave. I have a story to write.'
I gave her a military salute.
'I'll pick up the check.'
'Next time it's on me,' Paulina said. She stood up, threw on her coat and purse.
I laughed, shook my head. 'If I ever have a meal with you again, expect a healthy dose of arsenic in your
