All the Pretty Girls - J. T. Ellison [49]
“Is it true, Lieutenant?”
Taylor searched the young girl’s face, trying to place her.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Edith Conrad, Channel Five News. It’s my first day,” she added proudly. “Is it true then? Detective Garrison is the latest victim of the notorious serial rapist, the Rainman? The same serial rapist that has been terrorizing Nashville’s women has gone so far as to assault a member of Nashville law enforcement.”
“You can stop proselytizing, Edith. I have no comment on the Rainman investigation. It is an ongoing investigation conducted by the Metro Nashville Sex Crimes Unit. We don’t comment on ongoing investigations. Since it’s your first day, I’ll let that transgression pass.” She strode past the camera, purposely staring at a point five feet to the left.
“Lieutenant,” the girl called out to her back. “I’ll be broadcasting the information on the ten o’clock newscast. I just want to be sure I have the background correct.”
Taylor ignored her, continued walking across the parking lot.
“Lieutenant, it’s also come to our attention that there is DNA evidence in the case. Are you sure you don’t want to comment?”
Taylor swung around. “Where did you get that information?”
Edith smiled coyly. “A well-placed source. Are you willing to confirm or deny the information? Because we both know I’m right on the money with this one.”
Taylor stared at her briefly. The girl was petite, blond and thrilled with herself. Taylor did the only thing she knew to do.
“No comment.” She crossed the street in a hurry, heard the girl’s delighted voice behind her. “Did you get that?’ she asked her photographer. “Please tell me you got all of that.”
“Fuck,” Taylor spat. She reached her truck, climbed in, and drove off before she opened her cell phone. She speed dialed Mitchell Price’s number. He answered on the first ring.
“Price, it’s Taylor. We have a problem. Channel Five has the Garrison rape.”
The string of expletives would have done any sailor proud. When Price finally calmed down, Taylor relayed the entire incident with the reporter.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“I don’t want you to do anything,” he replied. “I’ll get on the horn, see how we can spin it. Dammit, Taylor, you were supposed to keep this quiet.”
“C’mon, Cap, I have. Only Marcus and Lincoln have the information. The leak came from somewhere else. The hospital, maybe, or the lab. It was a long shot that we were going to be able to keep this quiet.”
“The press isn’t supposed to give the names of rape victims on air or in print without their prior authorization. So hopefully they won’t name Betsy personally. If they do, we’ll light them up like a Christmas tree.”
“It’s the kid’s first day, so I can’t give you an estimate on the amount of integrity she has. But you’d best find a way to quash the story.”
“We won’t be able to quash it entirely, but I’ll make sure they don’t use her name. Dammit!”
“Sorry, Cap. All I can tell you is it didn’t come from me or mine. Good luck with it.”
“Not a word about it, Lieutenant. Hear me? Make sure there’s nothing but a ‘no comment’ coming out of our side of the building.”
“Gotcha. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She hung up, desolate. Nothing was going her way today.
Nineteen
Taylor rolled into the parking lot at her favorite watering hole lost in thought. She shoved the worries about Betsy Garrison and the leak from her mind for the moment. There was nothing she could do if the press had the information. Better to let Price deal with it. She had enough worries of her own. Her conversation with ADA Page was fresh in her mind, and she had taken the drive from downtown to Bellevue to think it through. Unfortunately, she had no answers.
She was greeted warmly as she entered the bar. It was smoky and dark but situated in a large, almost cavernous space. Big-screen plasma televisions were positioned over the bar, affording sports fans multiple views and coverage of all their favorite pastimes. Regulars nursed