Lethal Justice by Fern Michaels

Author:Fern Michaels
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Zebra
Published: 2007-03-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

The news room hummed with activity but Maggie Spritzer paid little attention. It was always like this around mid-morning for some reason. She typed the last few words of her column, ran spell check, and printed it out. Her extension would ring off the hook tomorrow when the ladies of Washington turned to her column. My oh my, what would they say when they found out Senator Myers’s wife charged 900 dollars worth of spring flowers to the taxpayers? They’d probably fall off their breakfast chairs or spill their morning coffee when they went on to read how the Secretary of State’s wife didn’t use her pooper scooper. On Massachusetts Avenue no less. The big question was, would she be fined or would she trade on her husband’s political position? Did the world care? Probably not, but the social ladies of Washington would have something to buzz about over their luncheons and teas for at least three days.

Maggie dropped off her column in her boss’s in-box and prepared to leave the newsroom.

Today, Maggie was wearing a flowered spring dress with matching jacket. She carried a tote, hating it because she missed her old L L Bean backpack. The colorful tote matched her outfit. Ted Robinson whistled approvingly as she approached his desk. “What’s up, Slick?” he asked, using the new nickname he’d given for her.

Maggie perched on the corner of Ted’s desk, showing a generous portion of leg and thigh. “Wanna go for coffee? I just turned in my column and have tomorrow’s done in draft form. I’m free as that breeze outside. How about you? I have something I want to show you,” she whispered.

“Then I’m your man.” Ted shouted across the room, “Hey, Espinosa, cover my phone, okay?”

Ted adjusted his baseball cap, slipped on his backpack, and followed Maggie from the room. She led him out of the building and around the corner to a greasy spoon that had scarred formica tables, six stools, two bar tables and the worst coffee and food in the entire District. Free refills were the joint’s claim to fame. The place was jamming.

Maggie got in line while Ted moved to one of the bar tables where a sports writer from the paper was sitting with one of the financial guys. “Yo, Garrity, can I have this table when you’re done?”

“Sure, Robinson, if you don’t mind getting your ass kicked by one of the other twenty people waiting for it.”

“But did they ask as politely as I did? C’mon, I’ve been up since forever and I need some of this swill to get me going.”

“It’s all yours, buddy,” the sports writer said, sliding off his chair. Ted immediately plopped down, ignoring the boos and hisses. A couple of minutes later, Maggie joined him to more boos and hisses. Both reporters ignored the disgruntled customers.

“Well, whatcha got? May I say you look particularly springy this morning. Is something going on that I’m not aware of?”

“Spring is in the air. Flowers are blooming. The sun is shining.

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