Forty-five
Daniel shook his head as Nadine pulled out the letter. “Just no,” he said. “Stop.”
“What?”
“I don’t need to read that,” he said. “You were collaborating with a reporter from the Spear ? Do you know what would happen if it came out we were involved in that travesty of journalism?”
“They lied and ran the story before it was ready. I have more evidence.”
Daniel laughed. “Come on, Nadine. That didn’t happen. The goal was to embarrass a powerful and influential man, and it backfired because of shoddy work.”
“The Spear —”
“You know how many people called us with additional information after the Spear story? None.”
“They might be scared. I’d be scared if it was Wilson threatening my character and the White Group was on his side.”
“Nadine.” He flipped through her stack of clippings and books. “You say this started with a Dot Voline book ? Look at what you have. People’s initials in a fiction book. Another unfinished book that is also, may I remind you, fiction. A letter that mentions men named Wilson and White and, for the record, is not addressed to and doesn’t mention Dot Voline. It could have been to anyone. You have a bunch of people who admitted to wrongdoing with no direct links to Wilson. Projects that were passed but had some unfortunate side effects for local communities. A bitter woman trying to blackmail a senator but who won’t go on the record. None of this adds up to John Wilson’s misconduct.”
“He’s being doing it for years,” she said. “He knows how to hide his tracks. You’re being deliberately obstructive.”
“What did you say?” His voice was icy.
“I have enough to warrant further investigation,” she said stubbornly. “I also have a plan for how that can happen.”
“No.”
“Daniel—”
He kept going. “After what you did to Dot Voline with that shameful obituary, I would suggest it’s better for you to stay clear of anything that would call your judgment into doubt. Again.”
“What if I limit it to the Dot Voline part of the story?” she persisted. “What he did to her?”
Daniel looked unimpressed. “That was what, forty, fifty years ago?”
“He still didn’t answer for it.”
“The Herald does not do follow-ups on stories the Spear has already butchered, and even if I thought this deserved attention, I would be concerned your ability to see it through.”
“I can do it.” She did her best to summon her old ice queen persona, but her voice trembled and tears came into her eyes.
“This is a professional office, Nadine.” Daniel’s mouth turned down. “Please control yourself.”
How could she answer that? She made it to the washroom, but her rage had overtaken her frustration by the time she slammed open the door. Thank God it was empty. She didn’t hesitate to text Lisanne, who was there within a minute.
“Who do we need to kill?” she asked when she walked in and saw Nadine’s face.
“Daniel.”
“That prick.”
Nadine laughed despite her tears. “You like him.”
“I like what he can do for my career, but I also know the kind of person he is. What happened?”
“He turned down the story I was working on with Wes.”
“Shit.” Lisanne leaned against the counter. “I’m sorry. What are you going to do?”
What was she going to do? The question troubled Nadine as she went back to her desk later, after Lisanne was sure she was feeling better.
What was she going to do?
Daniel was worried she would embarrass John Wilson. Not that he should be held accountable.
He was concerned about her ability to see it through and her judgment. Forget that she was an experienced reporter with a proven track record.
Remember Dot Voline’s shameful obituary , he said. Not that this was a chance to fix it.
She stood up and ducked into a phone room, where she called Wes and gave him the rundown of her conversation with Daniel.
“What’s your plan?” he asked.
Nadine told him, and he laughed.
“I should have known.” He paused. “Are you sure? This won’t be easy.”
“I need to do it.”
“Okay, Barbault,” said Wes. “Then do it. I’ll be waiting for you.”
She hung up and opened her folder to the document she’d been playing with for three weeks. This time, Dot would have had nothing to complain about. The obituary was what Nadine wanted for the Herald . Featuring a photo of a very young Dot Voline that Brent had dug up from a family album, it was amusing and engaging yet respectful, briefly covering the significant milestones and impact of Dot’s long and illustrious career, particularly her early days as Mildred Cross working in politics before the Wilson travesty.
That was the first part. The second section was the part she put the finishing touches on now, laying out the proof of John Wilson’s misdeeds from Dot’s clues and the need for further inquiry into his actions. It was strong writing, and a persuasive story.
It was worthy of Dot Voline.
By the time she was three hours into her night shift, Nadine was the only one in the office. She pulled up Dot’s story and read it over. Did she have the courage to do what she needed to? She wavered. Perhaps she could try Daniel again. Wes was correct. She’d seen the viciousness with which Wilson reacted to threats. Although she’d been careful to keep the focus on Wilson’s treatment of Voline, the story demonstrated there needed to be further inquiry into his actions throughout his career and his alleged connections to organized crime. It was everything the Spear story should have been.
“Wait.” The voice from behind her made Nadine almost fall off her chair.
“Irina?” Adrenaline caused the name to come out as a gasp.
“Wait. In another hour, it’s more likely management will be asleep and won’t see it to take it down.” Irina’s shawl was a deep crimson, and it was wrapped tightly around her body as if she was cold.
“How do you know what I’m doing?” Nadine was flabbergasted.
“Please. Give me some credit.”
True, Irina was omniscient.
“Why are you getting involved?”
Irina looked down her long nose. “Why are you?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Then you’ve answered your question.” Irina shrugged, the shawl pulling across her shoulders. “Plus, that asshole is the reason I’m no longer a reporter. He can take what he’s owed.”
With that, she simply left, leaving Nadine trying to get her breath back under control. Perhaps Irina was right; it would be better to wait. An hour was enough time to give it a final check.
Then it was fifty-nine minutes, and she clicked the Post button before she could second-guess herself.
By Nadine Barbault
That byline felt amazing to see again.
It only took a few minutes for Wes to text her. It’s good. Excellent. Way better than Tyler’s attempt.
Thanks , she wrote back. No one has commented yet.
Oh , he replied, they will .
It only took a few more seconds for Wes to be proven right.
Can you believe this? lakeluver23 commented on the story. Looks like the Spear was onto something.
That was the beginning.
An hour after she posted Dot’s revised obituary, someone commented, I knew Milly. It happened.
Soon, other people were stepping forward with stories of how John Wilson had coerced them, threatened them, or worse. The people who waded in with comments like Innocent until proven guilty and You’re ruining the life of a good man and a good Canadian or worse—usually much worse—were roundly called out and eventually drowned out by people who finally felt safe enough to tell their stories and those supporting them. In death, like in life, Dot was having an impact.
And finally getting her revenge, as Wilson’s carefully crafted reputation took hit after hit, especially after OlwayM began to post comments detailing her story. Nadine supposed this took the place of Monica going on the record.
Nadine probably wouldn’t see any change while employed at the Herald though. She knew posting the obituary would not be the smartest career advancement move, which was confirmed when Lisanne texted her a bunch of exclamation marks and the message WTF are you doing?
But strangely, for once, she wasn’t scared. She’d been calm after posting, and calm when the calls started coming in from other reporters looking for comments, then from the Herald ’s own communications manager, reminding her in coded corporate speak that to do any interviews would be the equivalent of digging her own grave deeper.
She ignored it all, confident and at peace, like she was raking that gravel in Dot’s garden.
However, it didn’t mean she was looking forward to the emergency meeting she’d been summoned to, seven hours after her post went live. The obituary had been taken down, but copies and screenshots were circling the web. In fact, taking it down had added more fuel to the fire, with commentators inflamed by the idea the Herald was covering up the story.
“Nadine, Daniel is ready for you in the main boardroom.” It was his assistant, Tania, a woman Nadine had always gotten along with, and her face was pinched with concern as she tugged on her micro braids. “He’s pretty upset.”
“I figured.” Nadine tried to smile. Figures her composure would dissipate now that the confrontation was imminent.
Tania looked around. “The story was really good,” she whispered. “I always thought that guy was slimy, and Dot Voline was my mom’s favorite writer. She named me after one of her characters.”
She brought Nadine to the boardroom, making her feel uncomfortably like she was on a perp walk, and left her at the door. Her phone dinged and showed a single gold flag from Wes.
Then a message from Lisanne: a GIF of an octopus punching a fish, with the message, Be the octopus.
She waited to see if her heart rate would slow, then decided it was a lost cause and opened the door. Daniel sat at the table to the right of the Herald ’s owner, Freddy Majors. A woman Nadine recognized as his daughter and rumored successor, Olivia, sat to the left. No one smiled. At least HR wasn’t there.
Unless it meant they didn’t want witnesses.
Nadine didn’t wait to be asked but took a seat near the end of the table across from Majors Senior.
Daniel started. “I am profoundly disappointed in you,” he said in the deep voice of a scolding dad. “I said this was not a story the Herald was interested in running. You were insubordinate, and you embarrassed yourself as a journalist and the Herald as an organization.”
Nadine noticed Olivia watching Daniel with a neutral expression. Unlike Freddy, she wasn’t nodding in agreement.
“Your article added fire to the baseless claims the Spear put forward and that John has been valiantly fighting,” said Freddy.
Nadine waited. They waited. Was she supposed to say something? Might as well. It couldn’t get any worse.
“I understand the story would be upsetting to Mr. Wilson,” she said, grateful her voice remained steady.
“As you should,” said Freddy. “I’ve known him for a long time, and these claims are ridiculous. He’s never acted like this around me.”
She kept going. “Especially given the replies of many people in the comments who experienced similar behavior from him and who had their own stories of his use of intimidation to advance his career and illegal misconduct.”
“Allegations,” said Daniel. “Those are allegations .”
“Nowhere in that story did I state otherwise,” said Nadine. “I laid out the proof. If people take it to the logical conclusion, then I suggest again it’s a story worthy of another look.”
“I told you no,” said Daniel. “That should have ended it.”
Nadine swallowed down the fear to stand by her actions. “One of Dot Voline’s final wishes was to make his behavior known and to take it out of the shadows of fear where it’s thrived. She knew the injustice of the situation and wanted the truth public.”
Freddy snorted. “Sure. Daniel said she sent you on some wild-goose chase for clues.”
Despite herself, Nadine smiled. “That’s Dot.”
“She could have come forward herself at any time,” Freddy said. “Either she was lying or a coward.”
“She was neither,” said Nadine, louder than she expected.
Daniel spoke up. “I’ve talked to HR about your inability to handle the politics beat and your mismanagement of the obituary section.”
Nadine glared at him. “I handled the beat fine,” she snapped. “It was the death threat on top of all the other insulting, hostile, and derogatory messages and emails that Frank expected me to suck up. As for the obit, I accept responsibility for that. I was rushing to make sure we were first online with it. That’s on me.”
“What do you mean—” Olivia only got out half the sentence before Daniel started talking.
“You are—”
Olivia held up a hand.
Daniel ignored her and kept talking.
Olivia tapped the table. “Daniel, I was speaking.” Her voice was firm.
Daniel stopped and looked off to the side, lips in a thin line.
Olivia turned back to Nadine. “What threats?”
Nadine told her about her experience and what the Herald had done and how the other reporter had been doxed and had her life turned upside down when the Herald refused to take the threat seriously. Olivia said nothing as Nadine told her about the man coming to her door, but her eyes moved to Daniel for a moment before returning to Nadine.
“Well, whatever,” said Daniel dismissively. “That’s in the past.”
“Nor is it the reason we’re here,” said Freddy Majors.
“It’s time to look to the future,” Daniel said. “I see no option but termination.”
There was silence around the table. Nadine did her best to keep her face impassive. She wouldn’t give Daniel the pleasure of knowing how much that hurt to hear, but the moment she opened her mouth, her voice would betray her.
“I disagree,” said Olivia. “Nadine has made mistakes, but with coaching and support, that can be fixed.”
“What.” Daniel didn’t phrase it like a question.
“In the brief time the Dot Voline story was on the site, it generated more engagement than any other one this year to date,” said Olivia.
“Not from our core readership,” said Daniel.
“No. Our future readership. That’s the most important metric for me right now. How do we grow the company by bringing in readers from demographics the Herald has typically ignored? And ignored is being generous.”
Freddy looked exasperated. “Olivia, we’ve discussed this.”
She smiled. “I won the debate then too. Data doesn’t lie.”
Freddy pursed his lips. “I believe John and told him we would take care of this.”
“Dad.” Olivia looked at him. “We can take that offline, but given our discussions about the future direction of the Herald , it’s in our best interest to let me make this decision.”
There was a pause, then Freddy waved his hand. “Your call, but you explain it to John.”
“Absolutely and with great pleasure. Nadine stays.” She ignored Daniel’s strangled protest as Nadine listened in disbelief. “I hear there’s an open spot on the politics beat, and we need someone to follow up on this Wilson story,” Olivia continued. “What do you think, Nadine?”
Nadine blinked. This was it. Her chance to resuscitate her dream. Back to politics where she belonged. She wasn’t scared anymore. She could do it.
She thought of Dot and what she’d taught Nadine about making an impact. She thought of Wes and his faith in her. She thought of the mayor and his community potluck and how she felt after she’d finished his story.
She opened her mouth to accept, then found herself saying, “Actually, I have another idea.”