Forever and the Night (The Black Rose Chronicles) by Miller Linda Lael

Author:Miller, Linda Lael [Miller, Linda Lael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: IGLA
Published: 2012-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Melody Ling, the television reporter, agreed to a rendezvous, but only after a little fast talking on Neely’s part. Although Neely refused to identify herself directly, she had to do some pretty heavy name-dropping in order to establish credibility—and hint that someone inside the FBI had obstructed justice. The site of the proposed meeting, an isolated, long-unused wooden bridge in the woods of central Maine, was chosen by mutual consent, during half a dozen fragmented calls from as many different telephones.

Neely left Aidan’s car parked in the small garage behind Wendy Browning’s beach cottage and took the bus to the village, stopping off on the way to purchase a long red wig and big sunglasses. Of course she was taking an enormous chance, trusting a total stranger to meet her alone in an out-of-the-way place, but it seemed like a better bet than heading for New York and strolling into network headquarters with the packet of proof under one arm.When the bus stopped in snowy Danfield Crossing, Neely remained in her seat, toward the back, watching everyone else get off. Once she was fairly sure no one was lurking outside, waiting for her, she made her way up the aisle, her purse under one elbow, carrying a disreputable old duffel bag she’d found in the shed behind Wendy’s cottage.

There was no need to ask directions to the old bridge; Neely and Ben and their father had fished for brook trout there, years ago, and the place shimmered brightly in her memory. After a quick glance around, she set off for the woods, not following the county road, but keeping to the narrow, hard-packed trails left by cross-country skiers.

Melody Ling was waiting patiently behind the wheel of a rental car, looking intent in the chilly afternoon sunlight. Her dark hair was moussed, her makeup too heavy and artful for the occasion, and she seemed poised to go on camera immediately. None of which mattered to Neely.

Seeing her mysterious contact come trundling out of the woods beside the road must have been disconcerting, but Ling didn’t flinch. She opened the car door and stepped out onto the icy road in high heels.

Neely glanced around nervously, but no gun-toting criminals or FBI men burst out of the bushes, and it was still too early in the day for vampires.

She approached Ling and held out the manila packet, which was still wrapped in plastic. “Here’s the evidence we talked about,” she said, considering a preamble unnecessary.

Ling took the offering. “You’ll grant me an exclusive interview, once everything has gone down?”

Neely nodded. “I’ll be in touch,” she said. She smiled. “Good luck—and thanks.”

The reporter nodded back, got into her car, and left.

Neely immediately returned to the village, by way of the woods. She bought a fish sandwich and a diet soda in a convenience store and hitched a ride back to the coast with a trucker who wore a T-shirt with a picture of his three toothless children on the front.

It had all gone

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