“Talk to her, Josh.” Jenna comes back on the screen. “Please. I know you’re frightened, but this is a chance to turn the tables, take back the power, be a whistleblower. You always love that kinda stuff.”
“Yeah, watching it. Reading about it.” Josh grabs a T-shirt that’s been draped over his headboard. “Shawn, why the Feds? I thought Detective Penance was on this.”
“The Feds came in because there are elements of cybercrime, and God knows what else. And according to Penance, both the Pub Murder cases have been solved, so he’s washed his hands. Thanks to Tracy’s eyewitness accounts, and emails between Billy and West you found on that first flash drive, Billy Donovan has been posthumously accused. Done. Gone. Wrapped.”
“And what about Lennox’s murder? He doesn’t still believe Jenna had anything to do with it, does he?”
“How do I put this? Let’s say Penance is opening himself up to the fact that Jenna had accomplices. But right now, he’s proceeding with caution, he says, now that the Feds are involved. And probably because the last time he proceeded without caution, he got his ass handed to him at trial. Remember who did that? Anyone? Anyone?”
“And you, Shawn?” Josh asks. “What do you believe?”
Shawn looks at Jenna, who looks away. “I believe my client.”
Josh glances at Tracy, who shrugs her shoulders again.
“I’d say Shawn is finally on our side,” Jenna offers.
“It’s true, Josh,” Shawn says. “We need to get you representation. Attorney–client privilege. That way you can feel comfortable handing over the rest of the flash drives and the SSD to the FBI.”
“Only you, Shawn, and only the flash drives. I’m keeping the SSD. It’s hidden away.”
“You mean over there?” Tracy points to a wall next to his window. Clearly the dry wall has been cut in a rectangle then replaced, the edges frayed and uneven.
Josh ignores her and addresses Shawn. “How much do you cost?”
“Me? One dollar. Just sign some paperwork and I’ll represent you. I can have my assistant draw up the agreement. From the sound of things, the FBI needs you to get back on board with West and smooth things over, maybe help him with the image of the organization. They need the company back on track for some reason. What did Pillsbury tell me, business as usual? Something like that.”
“What business?” Jenna asks. “I thought you told me Élan was in another free fall after the Billy Donovan murder.”
“I can help with West,” Tracy says. “It’s true. Élan’s stock price is hemorrhaging as tenants are fleeing from the new development. Key sponsors of the event are running for the exits. West is losing his mind. But I’ve got an idea.”
C h a p t e r 3 7
TRACY SIPS FROM her Press logo mug while finishing her research. Being named anchor of a televised news magazine has been quite the coup given the white patriarchy of Élan International. Ever since she followed her passion from modeling into journalism, her consistent ability when it comes to timely news that reflects the culture of the moment has always been what has set her apart. Although, she often wonders if her salary is anywhere close to her white co-anchor’s.
The news magazine is called Hard Press, an extension of Press magazine, and airs on Élan’s recently acquired ECN Network in the same time slot as 60 Minutes. To set it apart from its competition, Hard Press used to be live, and enjoyed winning its time slot for months. At the start of the political season leading up to the 2016 election, many a candidate was either ruined or propelled based on the questions and answers offered during the live feed.
Out of the blue, West wanted to transition to recorded segments, stating he “didn’t like the feeling of being out of control of the narrative if things went sideways.” Tracy thinks he succumbed to political pressure. Ratings took a nosedive soon after and never fully recovered. She’s been searching for a way to get their ratings back ever since.
A live interview with James West should be just the ticket. He’s already agreed.
He must be desperate.
Tracy puts the finishing touches on her questions, then mixes in West’s ridiculous mandatory questions for decent flow. Just as she hits the save button, she hears her personal email ding.
At first glance it looks like a reply from the French Foreign Legion. Her brain quickly shifts from professional responsibility to passion project. In her mind, she justifies her personal study of Bastien Morrell as being key to freeing Jenna by the end of all of this, despite her activist angle. After all, surely West hired this guy to kill Lennox, and God knows who else.
She opens the email.
From: Laura@LégionArchives.fr
RE: Inquiry
Dear Ms. Heissman of Press, please forgive English I am not good with. I have pulled psychiatric files Bastien Morrell (Caporal OR-3, Term: CUO). Since deceased with no next of kin, access grant. Please see attachments. My assistant translate best she can.
No next of kin? Tracy can feel her heart pulsing in her neck. She opens the twelve-page PDF and ends up studying them for almost an hour.
“SLOW DOWN, PLEASE,” Josh says. “You’re giving me whiplash. I thought you were working on West’s interview.”
“I was, then I heard back from the Foreign Legion.” Tracy fumbles through her notes.
“I get that. Just slow down.”
“Like I was saying …” she says, overenunciating each word.
“Stop,” Josh says.
“Bastien was reprimanded several times for false reports of enemy surveillance. He was subsequently diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. He thought enemy soldiers were following him during his tour in Afghanistan, which prompted him to escape, go AWOL. Eventually they found him naked in a ditch next to an American encampment, talking to a woman, telling her to stay down, stay down.”
“It happens. PTSD.”
“Here’s the thing. There was no woman. Nobody else was there.”
“Really.”
“In a subsequent psychiatric session, he mentioned having just slept with a woman, an American soldier who’d found him wandering in the desert. The psychologist asked if
