CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The next morning…
Faith looked at the television hanging at one end of the café with a wry smile.
On the television, a trembling James Hartford was conducting an impromptu press conference over the vehement objections of the TSA and his former employees, the Maryland Aviation Administration.
A redheaded reporter was asking him a series of questions about the cover-up behind the Unibrow Bomber attack five years ago.
Hartford was informing the press that yes, there was a cover-up, and yes, he was a part of it, and yes, the ability of the bomb to pass through security was at least partially the fault of malfunctioning equipment that Robert Stevenson reported as malfunctioning.
They chose to ignore his reports for cost-cutting purposes.
The ensuing investigation would likely result in a loss of many jobs, not to mention some very costly and high-profile lawsuits. Hopefully, it would also result in a review of security policies for both organizations and lead to better standards in both organizations.
The door to the café opened, and the redheaded reporter in question gave Faith a dazzling smile. “Hey, hey!” she said, settling across the booth. “If it isn’t my favorite Special Agent!”
“Hello, Bridgette,” Faith said, returning her smile. “I was just watching the rerun of your finest hour.”
Bridgette scoffed and flipped her hand. “Oh please. That? That’s just Tuesday in Washington.”
“It’s Thursday, though.”
“Not the point, but that’s okay. You’re still cute.” She folded her hands on the table and gave Faith another sunny smile. “So. Shall we begin with our exclusive?”
“I gave you an exclusive,” Faith reminded her. “You interviewed me and Jessica last night.”
“I did, but that was the exclusive on the case. This is the first of what I imagine will be many days of exclusives regarding your wonderful, exciting, and incredibly marketable life.”
“Ah.”
Bridgette looked around. “Speaking of that, where are Turk and Jessica?”
“They’re still sleeping. I didn’t want to wake them.”
Bridgette raised an eyebrow. “It’s eight in the morning.”
“Is that late?”
“I assumed it was for FBI agents. I’m usually out of bed by six.”
“That’s impressive.”
Bridgette flipped her hair. “Gotta do what we gotta do, right?” She smiled toothily and pulled out a recorder. “Okay, shall w—”
Faith reached over and took the recorder.
Bridgette blinked, then laughed. Her voice had an edge to it when she said, “Faith, I can still make this hard for you. New evidence comes up all the time. I can find new evidence that proves that the near disaster at Ronald Reagan was a result of yours and Special Agent Torres’s mismanagement of the case, forcing you to pull a literal miracle out of your ass. I can make people consider whether—”
Faith lifted a hand. “I have no doubt that you could spin a wonderful tale that would keep people at the edge of their seats until their asses went numb. But you won’t.
You won’t get your exclusive either. You also won’t bother Jessica or I on our cases ever again.
You’ll be just like all the other vultures and feed on carrion instead of hunting for your meals. ”
Bridgette stared at her, face frozen. “Oh?”
“Yes.”
Faith pulled a pair of earphones from her pockets, unwrapped them, and plugged them into her phone. Bridgette chuckled. “What am I looking at here?”
“Nothing. You’re just listening.”
She started to fit the earbuds into Bridgette’s ears, but the reporter flinched and took them herself.
She fitted them and looked at Faith. Faith pressed the play button and enjoyed watching Bridgette’s eyes widen, her smile slowly fade, her gaze turn to one of shock and impotent rage as she listened to the recording Faith was playing for her.
“I texted a friend of mine after our little talk,” Faith explained.
“I had him look through phone records to find the conversation you had with Craig Daniels’s lover.
Turns out it was a little different from what you told me.
Seems you actually called both Craig and his paramour and threatened them.
I also saved the recording of our phone call where you threatened me, but I don’t think I’ll need that to convince a judge that you criminally harassed Craig Daniels and Letisha Jordan in order to pressure them into dropping a very valid claim of defamation. What do you think?”
“Oh, you bitch,” Bridgette breathed. “You brilliant, evil bitch.”
"You're half right," Faith said. She smiled at Bridgette but kept her eyes hard.
"You've heard the story of Icarus and Daedalus, I'm sure.
They tried to escape from prison, so they built wings out of wax and feathers.
They made their escape by jumping through their high prison window.
Daedalus made it to safety, but Icarus flew too close to the sun. The wax started melting, and—"
“Yeah, I know it,” Bridgette said. She took the headphones out, wrapped them carefully and returned them to Faith. She looked at Faith with grudging respect. “Well, done.”
“I have a knack for stopping criminals.”
Bridgette laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, Faith. Call me names if you want, but I’m just as necessary as you are. The wheels of democracy run on lies, but it’s truth that greases the axles.”
“I think you might have that reversed.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She wagged her finger at Faith. “I could tell you that I have more than enough to ruin your career and Jessica’s too, but I’m guessing that you know that.”
“I would encourage you not to play a game of chicken with me,” Faith warned.
“Oh, I know. I won’t. I’ll lose that one for sure,” Bridgette said.
She leaned back against her seat and regarded Faith.
“You’re sure you don’t want your story told?
I would make it complimentary. Despite what some would say, propping heroes up is still more profitable than tearing them down.
I could make you out to be the greatest detective in history.
I don’t hold grudges, so if you’re worried about me getting you back for stealing my phone records, you don’t have to be. ”
Faith laughed and regarded Bridgette with something in between admiration and disgust. “You’re a unique person, Bridgette.”
“Not really. No more than you are. I’m just better at my job than most. Like you are." She sighed theatrically. "Ah well. It was fun, well, it lasted. I'll behave at least long enough for the situation with Craig Daniels to blow over. It's not like he can coerce the network to do anything."
“You’ll pay him his settlement,” Faith said. “He lost his job because of your story. His neighbors damaged his door and his car. He’s staying with his sister in Annapolis right now, and he’s going to end up moving west.”
“How do you know all this, and who cares?”
“I talked to him, and I care,” Faith replied. “You stepped on him on your way to the top, and you don’t get to leave him trampled. You can’t undo what you did, but you can give him something that will help him get started somewhere fresh where you can’t reach him.”
“Or you’ll tell on me, right?” Bridgette said, voice brittle. “That’s the deal?”
“You know, you said something that resonated with me,” Faith replied.
“You asked me what I thought happened to suspects I interrogated who turned out to be innocent. The answer is that I don’t know.
I don’t pay attention. Occasionally, I’ll follow up on a victim’s family member or a potential victim who narrowly escaped with their life, but the suspects?
I forget about them. I wonder now how many of them suffered just because the FBI interrogated them for murders they didn’t commit?
I think I might go back and find some of them.
Maybe see if I can help fix any damage I might have done. ”
“Oh, for God’s… Okay, wonderful. Good for you, Faith.” She folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot, shaking her head as she stared out the window at the traffic outside. “That’s going to…” She clamped her mouth shut and chuckled.
Faith guessed what she was going to say.
“It won’t ruin you. Yeah, I imagine Channel Six is going to be pretty upset at you for costing them…
I’m going to guess a low six-figure settlement.
Your employment with them is probably going to come to an end.
But other networks will snap you up. You made a mistake, but you can put a spin on it.
You were overeager in your pursuit of the truth.
You went a little too far, and come on, the guy was sleeping with his boss’s wife.
Was what you did illegal? Sure. Immoral? Depends on who you ask.
“That’ll be enough for someone else to take chance on you. With your ambition and your skill at managing contacts, you’ll make your way back to the top. I believe in you.” Unfortunately.
Bridgette looked at her for a long moment. Then she chuckled again. “You would have been a killer journalist, Faith.”
“No thanks. I like helping people.”
Bridgette laughed a final time. Then she picked up her recorder and put it in her purse. “Well, congratulations on your victory, Faith. We’ll be seeing each other again, I’m sure. Fate has a habit of taking care of badasses like us.”
“Yeah,” Faith replied, getting to her feet. “I have a feeling we will cross paths again.”
Bridgette smiled. “And when we do, I honestly hope it’s as friends. I’m not all evil.”
“You don’t have to be,” Faith replied.
Bridgette’s brow furrowed, but Faith didn’t offer an explanation beyond that. The reporter shrugged, spun on her heel, and sashayed out of the café. Faith’s phone buzzed. Michael. How’d it go?
She texted back. Went well. Thanks for the assist.
He sent a thumbs-up in reply. Faith called Jessica and got a frazzled reply. "Sorry! I slept in! Oh my God, it's so late! Where are you?”
"Picking up breakfast," Faith said, walking to the to-go counter. "We can eat on the way home."
“Okay. Sounds good. I’ll return the rental car. Next time wake me up!”
Faith smiled slyly. “Sure. I will.”
“Did you see the news?” Jessica asked.
Faith chuckled. “Yeah, I did. Good for him.”
“Good for Bridgette. I swear that woman’s the next Barbara Walters now. Not sure how I feel about that.”
Faith shrugged. “It takes all sorts, I suppose.”
“So when is she going to harass you? I’ll bet she’s tracking you down to that café right now.”
“Oh, we won’t have to worry about her anymore.”
“What, really? How? Faith, what did you do?”
“I’ll tell you in the car. I’m about to order.”
“Damn. Well, in advance, you are a queen, girl.”
Faith laughed. “No, I’m definitely not. If there’s one thing this case taught me, it’s that I definitely don’t want to be in charge.” She thought of her conversation with Director Smythe, and her smile faded a little.
“I don’t believe that,” Jessica said. “You’re gonna be Director someday. You’re not a Great Incompetent.”
Faith chuckled, but she really did have to order now. The cashier was staring at her impatiently, and whatever the future held, Faith was too emotionally drained to think about it right now. “All right, well, I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon. Turk, say bye!”
Turk barked, and Faith’s smile returned. She hung up and ordered breakfast.
As she waited for her order, she looked out the window at the bright morning sunshine. The clouds, for now, had dissipated. It was a beautiful day.