The Darkness - Jason Pinter [83]
"What the hell do you want, you dried-up old mummy?"
I wondered if Jack still felt like it was the right thing
to do.
"You know the old saying, people only call you names
if they really care about you? Well, between your sweet
nothings and that big kiss of an article you wrote about
me, I'm willing to bet most New York psychiatrists would
testify that you're head over heels in love with me."
"What the hell is this, O'Donnell? Parker, you'd better have a reason for this that goes well beyond morbid
curiosity."
"Jack asked me to set this up," I said. I didn't have to
worry about throwing Jack under the bus here; he told me
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he wanted it fully known that this was his decision. "But
I knew you'd want to hear what he has to say."
"I only want to hear one of two things come out of your
mouth," Paulina said. "One, that you know who threatened my daughter. Or two, you're leaving this business
and wanted to thank me for showing this city what a
washed-up, drunk old hack you really are."
I saw Jack flinch at that, but he stood his ground. Paulina
was staring daggers into Jack's eyes, but he didn't waver.
"I can't say either of those," Jack said.
"Then why the hell am I here? Serves me right for
trusting you, Parker."
"You trusted me for a reason," I said. "Now hear him
out."
Paulina looked at Jack, shook her head. "I'm surprised
you had the balls to poke your head out from whatever
rock you've been under the last few months."
"Balls have never been my problem," Jack said. "It's
knowing when to think with my head instead of my balls
that's gotten me into trouble."
Had Jack been thirty years younger, I could see these
two having the best enemy sex in history.
"Seems like that's a problem a lot of male journalists
have. Even Henry here. Right, Parker? No reporter's had
his life threatened more times in a few years than your
protege, Jack. These balls? How would you feel if one day
Henry gets too close to the fire and gets burned to a crisp?"
"Shut the hell up," I said. Paulina smiled.
"There are those balls I talked about," she said. "You're
a reporter, Henry, not a soldier. You're not supposed to
have emotion or take sides. And you're not supposed to
come this close to getting yourself killed on every story
you report."
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Jason Pinter
"I do what I need to in order to get to the truth," I said.
"You don't seem to care much about the truth in the
story I wrote about Jack," she said. "You might hate me
for it, but every word in that was true. And you don't
judge him the way you're judging me right now."
"You see, that's where you and I aren't alike," I said.
"I don't look at life as one big story to report. There's a
big difference between blood and ink. It's a shame you
never learned that."
"Enough of this crap," Jack said. "Do you want to
hear what we found or not?"
"Fine," Paulina said, folding her arms across her chest.
I could tell this was a practiced look, sternness crossed
with just a hint of pouty sexuality. She was used to pressing just hard enough to elicit a reaction, but not hard
enough to drive people away. Jack had information she
needed, but she wouldn't stay quiet without letting him
know what she thought. And it was then that I realized
Paulina didn't write that article just to get publicity, she
did it because she truly loathed Jack.
"Does a girl named Pamela Ruffalo ring a bell?" Jack
said.
Paulina didn't give any indication that she recognized
the name. "No. Who the hell is that?"
"She's a student at Smith College," Jack said. "A
junior, I believe, according to her Facebook page."
As Jack spoke, I could see the blank look on Paulina's
face changing. She recognized the name from somewhere.
"What does Pam have to do with any of this?" she said
in an argumentative tone, hoping Jack would answer her
in a way that would vindicate Pam. Not only did Paulina
know Pam Ruffalo, but for some reason whatever Jack
was going to say was going to hit her--hard.
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"A few months ago, Pam Ruffalo began