Dead Lawyers Tell No Tales by Randy Singer

Author:Randy Singer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Christian / Suspense, FICTION / Suspense
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2013-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

47

KERRI WAS SURPRISED they were meeting at Kincaid’s Fish, Chop & Steakhouse at the MacArthur mall. She thought the great Sean Phoenix would have preferred a more private location, or at least something more exotic. He had promised her the scoop on a story that was volatile and said they couldn’t talk about it over the phone. They had to meet, according to Sean. They might as well do lunch.

She had obsessed over what she should wear. Her wardrobe was a television reporter’s wardrobe. Loud colors looked better under bright TV lights—large print patterns so they didn’t blur together. Form-fitting skirts and V-neck blouses. Avoid black; it adds extra pounds on TV.

But today, she wasn’t dressing for the cameras. She had pinned her hair back into a messy bun. She put on a straight black skirt, heels, and an aqua blouse with a wide collar and matching necklace. It was conservative and classy; she wanted to let Mr. Phoenix know she could play in the big leagues too. Today was all about impressing a confidential source, a source who had access to top-level information, a source who had promised a big scoop. Maybe, Kerri hoped, he was going to tell her to run with the story about the rescue of Pastor Seyyed Hassan.

When she saw him, she realized that Sean had apparently spent a lot less time worrying about what he was going to wear. He met her at the door of Kincaid’s wearing khakis, a black T-shirt, and flip-flops. He flashed a big white smile, carving dimples into the chiseled face, and shook her hand.

“I’ve got a place in the last booth in the back,” he said.

The restaurant had a classic feel with a dark-mahogany bar, chandeliers, and a spacious seating area. It seemed like they had stepped into a New York City restaurant in the 1930s.

They settled into their booth, and Sean was in no hurry to get down to business. Kerri didn’t push him. She had cultivated sources before. She knew the rules—keep them talking; get them to relax; build trust. When a source calls a meeting, they want to spill the information. Don’t push them or they might get spooked.

She followed her rules all the way through lunch. The only business they discussed was when Kerri lowered her voice and thanked Sean again for letting her see the Hassan rescue. She still couldn’t believe what had actually happened. Sean brushed it off, and her hopes about getting a green light to run the story faded.

When the bill came, Sean insisted on paying, and Kerri let him. She was still playing cat and mouse, waiting for him to glance around the restaurant, make sure the coast was clear, and give her the tip he had promised. Instead, he kept asking questions, just like he had during lunch, and seemed more fascinated with her life’s story than with sharing his confidential info. Had this all been just a ruse to get her to lunch?

“Are you doing reconnaissance on me?” she asked.

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