'That's all right. Can you transfer me to Mr. Powers's office?'
'Sure thing, just a moment.'
She put me on hold. A minute later, a young man's voice came over the line.
'Mr. Powers's office.'
'Hi, my name is Henry Parker and I'm a reporter from the New York Gazette. I'd like to come in and speak with
Mr. Powers today. It's a pretty urgent matter.'
'Mr. Powers has a very busy schedule today. He's not in the office right now, but if I can pass a message to him,
I'll see if he has some free time.'
'Absolutely,' I said. 'Tell him I want to speak to him about Raymond Benjamin and Dmitri Petrovsky.'
'Can you spell those for me, sir?'
'Just remember the names.'
'Um…okay. I'll call Mr. Powers right now. Is there a number where I can reach you?'
I gave the secretary my cell phone number. He said he'd get back to me ASAP. I hung up the phone and began to play the waiting game again.
I tried to think how Reggie Powers might be connected to all of this. Powers Construction employed Raymond
Benjamin, though the fact that he was a ghost at the office pretty much confirmed that he was there to do dirty work, collect a W-2, and that was all. But why would Reggie
Powers want anything to do with Dmitri Petrovsky? He seemed like the least likely person on earth to want to have anything to do with a kidnapping, especially given his background. The more the pieces came together, the more trouble I had making them all fit.
Ten minutes later, my cell phone rang. I picked it up.
'Mr. Parker.' I recognized the voice as Powers's secre-300
Jason Pinter tary. 'Mr. Powers is at a job site all day today, but he said if you can meet him there at six o'clock, he'd be happy to speak with you.'
'Where's the site?' I asked.
'He's overseeing the construction of a mall in Hobbs
County, New York, today.'
Hobbs County. Why was I not surprised. I checked my watch. It was three-thirty. I had plenty of time to drive up to Hobbs County.
'Give me the address,' I said. I jotted down the information, thanked the secretary and hung up. I chewed on the tip of my pen. I had no idea what Reggie Powers would know. I sure as hell had a few questions he needed good answers to.
I put my tape recorder and notebook into a small backpack, stopped in to Wallace's office to tell him where
I was going. He told me to check in once I was done with
Powers. I got the sense Wallace understood how big this story was getting. And that scared me.
I took the subway Uptown to my apartment, got in the rental car and began the drive up to Hobbs County.
41
'Tomorrow,' Paulina said. She was sitting at her desk, leaning back in her desk chair, the one the assistants commonly referred to as the 'bitch throne.' She'd caught
James Keach referring to it as such one day, but rather than admonish the boy, she merely laughed and told him not to be shy about it. From that day on, James commonly referred to the chair with that moniker, using the slight whisper of a child who can't believe his parents permit him to curse in the house.
The copy was set. The pictures had been laid out. She'd pored over every inch of the article with greater focus than any story she could remember. She couldn't say for sure whether this piece would be her crowning moment as a journalist-in fact, she wasn't sure she'd want it to be-but in many ways it meant the most to her. It represented a clear turning point in her career, and would mark perhaps the first official shot of the war. To this day it had been the newsprint version of Russia versus the U.S. No casualties, lots of trash talk and hidden agendas everywhere they turned.
Paulina's article would change all of that. So while nobody quite knew just who fired that first shot at Lexington and Concord, in the future they could pin this one to her blouse. The Parker stories had been small potatoes.
Going after a baby fish as though people would care. To this point, Henry hadn't been in the game long enough for people to truly care. Like Stephen Glass and Jayson Blair, the sting would have been worse if they had the tenure of, well… Paulina laughed.
A bottle of Dom was waiting in her fridge. Myron's phone number was on her cell phone. At first she debated calling him again-the last thing she needed tonight was another pity party-but ending the night with a good drink and a great lay would be the perfect capper. The end of the beginning, the beginning of the end.
And even though she hadn't seen him in many months,
Paulina rather wished she'd be able to see the look on
Henry Parker's face in the morning.
42
The sun bathed Hobbs County in a beautiful melange of reds and golds. This could be such a breathtaking town, I hated to think so much evil had taken place here. When I parked the car in the lot by the construction site, I took a moment to take it in, to breathe it in. You didn't get many views like this in the city, one of the trade-ins you had to make to live there. I didn't mind so much. Spending my whole childhood growing up way out West, I'd seen enough sunsets to quench a lifelong thirst. Living amid the steel and bustle of New York didn't quite feel like home yet, but it was getting there.
I turned off the car and parked outside the site.
The mall was coming up well. Steel beams were exposed everywhere. Tools and wheelbarrows and mixers were scattered about. I had no idea where I was supposed to meet
Reggie Powers. I figured there would be some sort of office structure set apart, or he'd just be waiting for me outside.
Yet as I took a quick look around, there was no sign of him.
As I walked through the construction area, dipping under low beams, peeking around corners, I felt a queasy sensation in my stomach when I realized there wasn't a single person in sight.
Powers's secretary had told me Reggie would be at the site all day. But there were no other cars on the lot. No discarded papers or bags. No sign that any human beings had even set foot here today. Why would Reggie be here all day if nobody else was?
A terrible suspicion grew that I was alone here. Or even worse, not as alone as I thought.
'Hello?' I called out. My voice echoed through the structure. A chill ran through my body, and I held the backpack tighter. 'Mr. Powers?'
Still nothing.
I exited the structure, walked around the exterior.
Several cranes were standing tall over the skeleton, long steel beams lying at their feet. The cement trucks were quiet, side elevators dark.
'Reggie Powers!' I called again. When again there was no answer, I decided it'd be best to get the hell out
