Look Again - Lisa Scottoline [10]
“That’s not true,” Ellen shot back, hurt for Courtney, even in absentia. Meanwhile, the photo of Timothy slid from the printer tray, showing a rectangle of clear blue sky.
“What are you working on, anyway?”
“Research.” Ellen was a bad liar, so she asked, “How about you?”
“An embezzlement piece, if Marcelo okays it.” Sarah wiggled some papers in her hand. “The police commissioner just agreed to meet with me. An exclusive, which he never gives. So, what are you researching?”
“A follow-up on an old abduction story.” Ellen wondered why she kept lying. She could have just told the truth. Funny, I just saw a picture of a kid who looks exactly like Will. But something told her to keep it to herself.
“What abduction story?”
“Sulaman, a family abduction I did a while ago.”
“Oh, right, I remember. It was so you.” Sarah snorted, and Ellen hid her annoyance.
“What do you mean?”
“It was heartfelt. Unlike me, you can pull it off.”
“You can do heartfelt,” Ellen said, though she wasn’t so sure. The photo of Timothy had almost finished printing, and suddenly she wanted Sarah gone. “Sorry, but I have to get back to work.”
“Me, too.” Sarah’s gaze fell on the printer just as the photo shot out, and she plucked it from the tray. “Aha! You’re not working.”
Ellen’s mouth went dry as Sarah scanned the photo of Timothy.
“You took more baby pictures than anybody I know.”
“Guilty.” Ellen didn’t know what else to say. Obviously, Sarah had mistaken Timothy for Will.
“See you later.” Sarah handed her the photo and took off, and Ellen bent down and slid it into her purse.
Then she picked up the phone to call Susan Sulaman.
Chapter Eight
Fifteen minutes later, Ellen had hung up the phone, and Marcelo was motioning to her from his office doorway.
“May I see you for a minute?” he called out, and she nodded, seeing through his glass wall that Sarah was still sitting in one of the chairs across from his desk.
“Sure.” She rose and walked to his office, which was lined with colorful photographs that he had taken in his native São Paulo. One was a series of exotic stone arches in warm gold and tan hues, and another of weathered doors painted germanium red, vivid orange, and chrome yellow, with a pot of magenta petunias on one threshold. Ellen realized she had a crush on Marcelo’s office, too.
“Please, take a seat.” He gestured her into a chair, and Sarah smiled quickly at her. He took his seat behind his desk, uncluttered except for stacked screen shots beside his laptop and a pencils-and-pens mug with a soccer ball on it that read Palmeiras. He sighed. “First let me say, I know it’s hard on you both, losing Courtney. If I could have avoided it, I would have. Now, Sarah just told me a great story idea.” Marcelo brightened, nodding at Sarah. “You wish to explain or shall I?”
“You can.”
“Fine.” Marcelo faced Ellen directly. “We all know that Philly’s homicide rate is among the highest in the country, we cover some angle of it every day. Sarah’s idea is that we do a major think piece on the issue, not treat it as episodic news. Sarah, this is where your editor steals your idea.” Marcelo flashed Sarah a grin, and she laughed.
Ellen, confused, couldn’t even fake a smile. Sarah had told her she was going to Marcelo with an embezzlement piece, but that wasn’t true. She had gone to him with a think piece, which was a much bigger deal. With one layoff to go at the end of the month, Sarah was making damn sure it wasn’t her.
Marcelo continued, “We need to explain why this is happening here, as opposed to other big cities in the States. What’s more important? It’s life or death.”
“Exactly,” Sarah said, and Ellen felt a half step behind, like a middle schooler during a pop quiz.
Marcelo nodded. “I see this as a cause-and-effects story. A thoughtful, in-depth examination. I will assign Larry and Sal to analyze the causes. Talk to social scientists and historians.”
Ellen blinked. Larry Goodman and Sal Natane were the