The phone pulled me out of a sound sleep. I looked around the strange confines of the room, getting my bearings, and my eyes fell on Rachel's.
'You better get it,' she said calmly. 'It's your room.'
She didn't seem to have nearly the same difficulty I had coming awake. In fact, for a moment I had the feeling she had already been awake and was watching me when the phone rang. I lifted the receiver on what I guessed was the ninth or tenth ring. At the same time I saw that the clock on the bed table said it was seven-fifteen.
'Yes?'
'Put Walling on the line.'
I froze. There was something reminiscent about the voice but I didn't place it in my jumbled mind. Then a thought occurred to me that Rachel shouldn't be in my room.
'You got the wrong room. She's in-'
'Don't fuck with me, reporter. Put her on.'
I covered the phone with my hand and turned to Rachel.
'It's Thorson. He says he knows you're there-here.'
'Give it to me,' she said angrily and jerked the phone out of my hand.
'What do you want?'
There was a period of silence. He must've said two or three sentences to her.
'Where did it come from?'
More silence.
'Why are you calling me?' she asked, the anger back in her voice. 'Go ahead and tell him, if that's what you want. If you want him to know. It says as much about you as me. I'm sure he'd like to know that you're some kind of Peeping Tom.'
She handed me the phone and I hung it up. She pulled a pillow over her face and moaned. I pulled it off her face.
'What is it?'
'I've got bad news for you, Jack.'
'What?'
'In this morning's edition of the Los Angeles Times there was a story about the Poet. I'm sorry. I've got to bring you into the FO for a meeting with Bob.'
I was silent for a moment, confused.
'How'd they…'
'We don't know. That's what we're going to talk about.'
'How much did they have, did he say?'
'No. But apparently it was enough.'
'I knew I should have written this yesterday. Damn it! Once it was clear that this guy knew about you people, there was no reason not to write it.'
'You made a deal and stuck to it. You had to, Jack. Look, let's wait on this until we get to the office and talk about what they had.'
'I've got to call my editor.'
'You can do that later. Bob's apparently already in and waiting for us. I guess he doesn't sleep.'
The phone rang again. She jerked the phone out of the cradle.
'What is it?' she said in a voice painted with annoyance. Then in a softer tone, she said, 'Hold on.'
She smiled sheepishly and handed me the phone. She then lightly kissed me on the cheek, whispered that she was going to her room to get ready and started to get dressed. I put the phone to my ear.
'Hello?'
'It's Greg Glenn. Who was that?'
'Uh, that was an FBI agent. We've got a meeting. I guess you've heard about the L.A. Times.'
'You're damn right I have.'
The sinking sensation in my chest was growing. Glenn went on.
'They've got a story on the killer in the paper. Our killer, Jack. They're calling him the Poet. You told me we had the exclusive on this and we were protected.'
'We were.'
It was all I could manage to say. As Rachel finished throwing her clothes on she watched me with sympathetic eyes.
'Not anymore. You've got to come back this morning and write ours for tomorrow. Whatever you've got. And you better have more than they've got. We could've had this in the paper, Jack, but you convinced me. Now we're playing catch-up on our own story, goddamnit.'
'All right!' I said sharply just to shut him up.
'And I hope I don't find that you've extended your stay in Phoenix just because you found some babe to bang down there.'
'Fuck you, Greg. Do you have the story there or not?'
'Of course I do. It's a great story. A great read. But it's in the wrong paper!'
'Just read it to me. No, wait a minute. I gotta go to this meeting. Have somebody in the library-'
'Don't you listen, Jack? You aren't going to any meeting. I want you on the next plane back here to write this for tomorrow.'
I watched Rachel blow a kiss at me and then go out the door.
'I understand. You'll have it for tomorrow. But I can write it here and ship it.'
'No. This is a hands-on story. I want to work this one right here with you.'
'Let me go to this meeting and call you back.'
'Why?'
'There's a new development,' I lied. 'I don't know what it is and I have to go and find out. Let me go and I'll call you. Meantime, have the library take the Times story off their wire and ship it to my basket. I'll call it up here. I gotta go.'
I hung up before he could protest. I quickly got dressed and headed out the door with my computer bag. I was in a daze. I didn't know how this could have happened. But a thought was pushing through.
Thorson.
We each grabbed two cups to go from a hospitality stand in the lobby and then headed to the federal building. She had packed all her things again. I had forgotten.
We didn't talk until we had finished our first cups. I imagined we had completely different dilemmas and different thoughts going through our mind.
'Are you going back to Denver?' she asked.
'I don't know yet.'
'How bad was it?'
'It was bad. Last time he'll ever listen to one of my promises.'
'I don't understand how it could've happened. They would have had to call Bob Backus for comment.'
'Maybe they did.'
'No, he would have told you. He would have kept his deal. He's second-generation bureau. I've never seen anyone toe the line like that man.'
'Well I hope he keeps the deal now. Because I'm writing today.'
'What did the story say?'
'I don't know. I should have it as soon as I can hook up to a phone.'
We were at the courthouse. She pulled into the garage for federal employees.
Only Backus and Thorson were in the conference room.
The meeting began with Backus expressing his regret that the story had leaked before I could write it. It seemed legitimate to me and I regretted impugning his integrity with my comment earlier to Rachel.
'Do you have it? I can get it on my computer if I can use the phone line.'
'By all means. I've been waiting for someone from the L.A. field office to fax it. The only reason I know about it is because Brass tells me we're already getting calls from other media into Quantico.'
