Hard to Handle (5 page)

“Do you need anything before you leave?”

“No. I have a bag at the safe house. Should be enough for three or four days. I'll buy whatever else I need.”

“All right, keep me posted,” Lucas requested.

They hung up, and Sam rummaged through the fridge and cupboards for water and snacks, then spent another thirty minutes securing a private plane for a morning flight.

CHAPTER 5

Kaylee remembered the day she'd met Samuel Mackenzie with absolute clarity, even four years later. It was the day that had changed her life in more ways than one.

At twenty-four years old, she had been living her dream, working as a staff reporter at the
Baltimore Journal
. The
Journal
was one of the smallest publications owned by Clement Media, and the perfect place to start her career in journalism with complete anonymity, writing as Kaylee Stone. Only the chief editor and the head of human resources knew who she really was, and both had strict instructions from George Clement not to provide any special treatment or let anyone else know that his daughter was working in the company.

The arrangement had worked fine for over a year. Kaylee had started in research, then earned her way up to writing about city politics. Her editor, Jason Holt, had seemed like a good guy, though a little lackadaisical in his job. She'd made good friends at the paper and among the city staff. She'd become close with one friend in particular, Rosalie Anderson. Rosalie worked in the mayor's office and often provided information that gave Kaylee the edge on breaking news.

It was a Tuesday in late April when Kaylee and Rosalie had met for coffee after a particularly heated city council meeting to review the budget.

“Are they really projecting a two-million-dollar overspend this year?” Kaylee asked.

“Honestly, I think that's conservative,” Rosalie replied in a low voice, looking around to ensure they weren't overheard. “It's not all from this year. They saw the problem last fall after the budgets were already approved and decided to carry most of the spending over into this year so they'd have more time to balance the books.”

“How can they do that?”

Rosalie leaned closer. “I only know that they delayed paying some invoices.”

“Like renegotiating terms, or just making the payments?”

“I don't know exactly how.”

“But for how many vendors? That's a lot of money,” Kaylee added.

“That's the thing. Most of the overspend is for only two contracts,” Rosalie explained.

“What? How is that possible?”

“It's not that unusual, really. Especially for infrastructure projects. The bids all look good on paper, then a year later, they are all delayed and way over budget.”

Kaylee could only look at her friend with her mouth agape. “How is that possible? Isn't there any oversight or fines? Or someone responsible for making sure that doesn't happen?”

“You would think so.”

Kaylee was ready to ask a load of other questions, but Rosalie looked around with obvious concern. “I have to go,” she said, slipping on her purse and picking up her still full coffee mug. “Do me a favor? Keep this to yourself for now?”

“Rosalie, this is huge. You know I can't do that.”

“Please? As a favor to me?”

“Okay,” Kaylee conceded. “I won't do anything with it for now. Not until I can get more information from other sources.”

“Thank you. I have to go or I'll be late for a meeting.”

Kaylee watched Rosalie walk away with a feeling of excitement bubbling wildly in her stomach. Something definitely smelled wrong, and every instinct told her there was a big story at the heart of it. She just needed a little bit more information to corroborate the facts.

At the next meeting with her boss two days later, Kaylee mentioned the debate at city hall about a potential budget overspend, and that she wanted to pursue a story on what was behind it.

“How much overspend?” he asked, barely looking up from his computer.

“About two million dollars,” she explained.

“For the whole fiscal year? That's nothing.” Jason dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “It's probably just an accounting error. They'll sort it out at some point.”

“I don't know,” Kaylee persisted. “Councilman Marchesi seemed pretty adamant that the mayor's office was mismanaging the budget and was demanding an answer.”

“Everyone knows that Emeril Marchesi is planning to run against Mayor Lyle Gordon in next year's election. So, there's the real story, Kaylee,” he explained in a patronizing glare. “This all sounds like political posturing more than anything else. You better get used to it, 'cause it's going to be a long and messy campaign.”

Kaylee was well aware of Emeril Marchesi's political aspirations. And while she had the urge to provide more information about potential vendor favoritism for infrastructure projects, she also remembered her promise to Rosalie. Once she had more evidence from other sources, she would give Jason an update. Then of course he would support her story.

For three weeks, Kaylee tried to uncover any information to substantiate the rumor that two building companies were overcharging the city, but hit a wall at every turn. She talked to several people in the various municipal offices responsible for city building contracts. Kaylee also tracked down a copy of the budget update shared at the last city council meeting, but it had only very high-level line items, not enough information to support or disprove her theory. None of her usual contacts knew anything more specific, nor could they point her in the right direction. Finally, she tried the Department of Audits, hoping to uncover any known incidents of waste or fraud related to building contracts, but with no useful results.

The next morning was a Friday, and Jason called her into his office as soon as she arrived at work.

“What were you doing at city hall yesterday?” he demanded before she could sit down.

“What?” she stammered, caught off guard.

“I just got off the phone with Norma Sanders. As in the city of Baltimore comptroller, Norma Sanders. She wanted to know why one of my reporters was harassing her executive assistant yesterday—”

“I wasn't harassing anyone!”

“Harassing her executive assistant and making threats to uncover mismanagement in the contract bidding process.”

“I never made any threats!” Kaylee insisted.

“I don't give a shit what you did, Stone. You were out of line! Now what the hell were you doing in the comptroller's offices?”

Kaylee bit her bottom lip.

“I was following a lead on a story,” she replied, softly.

“On what exactly?” Jason snapped back.

“The forecasted budget overspend.”

“What?”

She lifted her chin, straightened her shoulders and repeated her words.

“Are you kidding me?” he yelled, slapping the top of his desk with the palm of his hand. “I told you to leave it alone! There is no story there!”

“I know, but I have information from a very credible source—”

“Who?” demanded Jason, leaning forward aggressively.

Kaylee stepped back as tingles of dread began creeping up her back. She had known there was a risk that her boss would be mad about pursuing the story, but this reaction was way beyond what she had expected.

“I can't say,” she told him in a strong, steady voice. “But there is something going on there, Jason. I know it.”

“You know nothing,” he snapped. “And I don't need city officials calling my office, questioning the conduct of my reporters. So as of today, I'm reassigning you to Arts and Culture.”

“You can't be serious!” Kaylee protested, unable to believe what was happening.

“Deadly serious,” Jason replied as he sat down behind his desk and started sorting through the litter of documents on top. “You're just lucky the comptroller didn't call the chief with this or you would be out of a job. Now, get the hell out of my office.”

Kaylee spent the rest of the day in a fog, thinking through the conversations she'd had the day before with city workers. Yes, she had spoken to Andrea Butler, the executive assistant to the comptroller, and asked some pointed questions about managing contractor invoicing and overspend. But there had been nothing threatening or aggressive in Kaylee's comments or tone. But obviously someone, the executive assistant, the comptroller, or someone else, wanted to ensure the questions stopped, by making a formal complaint to her boss.

By the end of the day, she was too angry to let it go. Rather than hang out with her girlfriends after work, she walked twenty minutes straight home to her Harbor East apartment, quickly packed an overnight bag, and drove an hour in her car to her parents' home in McLean, Virginia.

“Miss Mikayla!” exclaimed the family housekeeper, Ida Fuentes, with a big smile. “I didn't know you'd be home this weekend.”

“Hi, Ida,” Kaylee replied as they hugged. “It wasn't planned. I tried calling my mom, but I got her voicemail. Are my parents home yet?”

“Not yet, but I'm expecting them soon,” Ida explained. “Your brother is home. He's watching television in the kitchen.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Are you in town to see Mr. Evan? I didn't know he was back in the country,” Ida continued as they walked through the large house.

“No, he's still in Europe for another couple of weeks I think,” Kaylee told her. She and Evan had been engaged for over three years, with the wedding less than eight weeks away in early July.

“Well, I'm sure Mrs. DaCosta will be happy to see you anyway. There are still so many details to be finalized for the big day.”

They entered the kitchen to find her brother, George “Junior” Stone-Clement, eating a sandwich and watching a reality television show. He barely looked up to say hello to his sister, or his mother, who also walked into the room from the entrance to the mudroom and garage on the other side.

“Yes, there is a lot to do,” stated Elaine Stone-Clement, referring to the wedding plans. “And most of it still requires your decisions, Mikayla. The planner is starting to think I'm the one who's getting married.”

“Hi, Mom,” Kaylee said as she walked into her mom's arms for a long hug.

“Hey, baby. I just got your message when I pulled up to the house,” Elaine explained. “It's so good to see you. Are you staying for the whole weekend?”

“No, just until tomorrow,” replied Kaylee. She went to the fridge to get a glass of water, slapping her younger brother in the back of the head on the way. “Will Dad be home soon?”

“Probably not until later this evening. He has a dinner meeting with the board,” her mom explained. “Now let me go get changed. We have a lot of decisions to make. Let's do it over dinner.”

Kaylee smiled, though it felt very forced. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about frivolous, meaningless wedding details when her career was going backwards. But she did it anyway, for almost three hours, and it wasn't nearly as painful as she'd imagined. Her mom had a whole portfolio of options, pulled together from months of discussions and debate among Elaine, Kaylee, and her future mother-in-law, Cecile DaCosta, who had also been Elaine's best friend for years. All the options they had shortlisted were beautiful, elegant and timeless, making it easy for Kaylee to just pick one of everything with little debate. At least, that's what she told herself as she smiled back at the look of joy and pride on her mom's face when they were all done. But, deep in her stomach, Kaylee knew she needed to seriously figure out why she had little real interest in planning her nuptials to a man she loved.

“Mikayla! When did you get home?” George Clement asked as he walked into the living room at about ten-thirty that evening. He leaned down and kissed the cheeks of both his wife and his daughter.

“Hey, Dad,” she replied with a broad smile.

George was a big man with a portly stature and a jovial disposition. He was a multimillionaire and CEO of one of the largest media conglomerates in the United States, which he had built from the ground up, yet he was always present for his family.

“George, you'll be very happy to know that we finally have the wedding plans finalized,” Elaine stated a she walked over to the bar at the side of the room and poured a glass of aged scotch for her husband and glasses of cabernet sauvignon for the two women.

“Really?” he replied. “That's great! Now we can all get some sleep.”

Elaine rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.

“I'm going to give Cecile a call with an update. At least she will appreciate our efforts, right, Mikayla?”

“Right, Mom,” she agreed, but gave her dad a big wink on the sly as her mom walked out of the room with her usual long, confident stride.

“How's work going?” her dad asked as he sat down beside her on the deep soft brown leather sofa.

“I don't know, to be honest,” she said with a deep sigh. Now that she had the opportunity to address the issue that had originally brought her back home, Kaylee was having second thoughts. She had always been so adamant that she would not use her family name to further her career, yet here she was, complaining to her daddy because she didn't like a decision made by her boss.

“What's wrong?”

She looked at the man she loved but also respected greatly.

“If I get your advice on something, will you promise not to do anything about it?”

“Okay. What is it?” he easily agreed while sipping at his drink.

Kaylee took a deep breath and told her dad a very brief summary of what had happened since the contentious city council meeting and her coffee chat with a friend in the mayor's office.

“Did I do the wrong thing, Dad? Should I have stopped pursuing the story when Jason told me to?” she asked when his expression remained completely unreadable.

“That depends on why you did it,” he replied, watching her closely.