Look Again - Lisa Scottoline [70]
“Will said I wasn’t there?” Ellen couldn’t process it fast enough. “Tell me exactly what he said.”
“He told her you went on the airplane for work.”
“Oh no!” It was exactly what Ellen had told him yesterday. She rubbed her forehead and came away with flop sweat. “This isn’t good, Connie.”
“Why doesn’t she know what you’re doing for work, anyway?”
The proverbial tangled web. “My editor wanted to keep it on the QT. We generally share our assignments, but Sarah is getting a little competitive lately, between you and me.”
“Oh. Oops.”
Ellen was trying to figure what to do. Sarah had caught her in a lie, then called her to confirm it. It was great journalistic technique, and it would get her fired for sure.
“Will wants to talk to you, okay?”
“Of course.” Ellen could hear Will calling for her, so close he was probably reaching for the phone.
“Mommy, Mommy! When are you coming home?”
“Soon, sweetie.” Ellen felt a pang at the sound of his voice, even as she slumped in the driver’s seat, keeping an eye on the Bravermans’ house. “Tell me about your macaroni picture.”
“Come home soon. I have to go.”
“Love you,” Ellen called after him, and Connie got back on the line.
“We’re about to have dinner. So how bad is it?”
“Don’t worry. Just don’t let him tell any more state secrets, okay?”
“Gotcha. Sorry.”
“See you soon.” Ellen hung up and called Marcelo for damage control, waiting nervously for the call to connect. Another runner darted by on the sidewalk, glancing back at her. His shoulder cap bore a MOM tattoo, but she was pretty sure it was a coincidence.
“How are you?” Marcelo asked, his voice unusually cool, which took Ellen aback.
“Long story short, Sarah called my house and Will told her that I went away on business.”
“I know. She just left my office. She came in to tell me that you lied to me.”
Oh no. “What did you say?”
“What could I say? I couldn’t admit that we confessed our mutual admiration in your kitchen, before we fabricated a story.”
Ellen reddened. “I’m so sorry, Marcelo.”
“I shouldn’t have told them you were sick. So, in theory, you lied to me, and I lied to the staff, and Sarah came in to let me know. If I had just said that it wasn’t their business, we’d be fine.”
Ellen had undermined Marcelo’s authority. A reporter couldn’t lie to an editor without consequences. The entire newsroom would be talking about it and waiting to see what he would do. “So what did you say to her?”
“I told her I’d talk to you about it when you got back.” Marcelo shook his head. “For an intelligent man, I act so stupid sometimes.”
“No, you don’t,” Ellen rushed to say, hearing the subtext: I never should have crossed the line with you.
“I can’t show you any favoritism, and I don’t want to have to let you go.” Regret freighted his tone, but Ellen straightened up, determined.
“There’s no reason to do that, not yet. I’m still away, and that buys us a few days. I have to get clear of this situation.”
“What situation?” Marcelo asked, a new urgency in his voice, but all of a sudden the white Jaguar was pulling out of the Bravermans’ driveway and turning left toward the main drag.
“Uh, hold on.” Ellen tucked the BlackBerry in her neck, twisted on the car’s ignition, and hit the gas. She launched herself into rush-hour traffic, an overheated lineup of blaring music, cigarette smoke, and cell-phone conversations. She couldn’t afford to let too much space get between her and Carol.
“Ellen? Are you there?”
“Marcelo, hang on a sec.”
“Please tell me what is going on. I can help you.”
“Sorry, but this isn’t the best time for me and—” She lost her train of thought because Carol took an unexpected right turn before the causeway. Ellen steered her car into the right lane but the movement dislodged her BlackBerry, which slid off her lap and fell near the gas pedal.
“Good-bye, Marcelo!” she called out, then she hit the gas and swerved around the corner, in pursuit. She had to stay on track. She couldn’t worry about her job now, or even Marcelo’s. Sooner or later she had to catch a break. She ran the light, staying