Page 55 of Deadly Intent
He took a sip of coffee. “Nah. No way. Darcangelo made sure that the leak had no idea who’d turned her in. The fact that Irving caught her with the file was a stroke of good luck. Cate might suspect me, but it’s nothing she could everprove.”
Mia let out a breath. “Well, that’s arelief.”
“Today could be an interesting day in thenewsroom.”
12
Joaquin stepped into the elevator, camera bag on his shoulder, his mind so fixed on Mia that he didn’t notice Matt enter withhim.
The doorsclosed.
“Oh, hey,Harker.”
“What’s that smile on your face about?” Matt leaned in, even though there was no one else there to hear. “Did you get lucky lastnight?”
Were Joaquin’s emotions thattransparent?
Joaquin opened his mouth to tell Matt that he’d had an amazing evening with Mia, when he realized he couldn’t. “Nah, nothing likethat.”
Until the police caught the killer and Mia was no longer the potential focus of any newspaper investigation, he couldn’t tell anyone that he had feelings for her, not after what he’d done yesterday. Besides, he wasn’t sure how Mia would feel about him discussing their relationship, new and fragile as it was, withothers.
“Oh, come on. I know you too well. What’sup?”
“Can’t a guy behappy?”
“At eight-thirty in the morning on a workday?” Matt shook his head. “No, absolutely not—unless he spent the night before gettinglaid.”
“I did not get laid last night. I went dancing and had a goodtime.”
“You and yoursalsa.”
“I offered to teach you. As my mama says, ‘A man who can dance is worth his weight in gold towomen.’”
The elevator doors opened onto the newsroom, and the two of them made their way to the corner reserved for the I-Team.
Anna and Alex were already there. Tom was shouting at someone behind closed doors. Anna sat at Sophie’s desk holding a copy of the paper, a dejected look on herface.
“Sorry, man,” Alex was saying. “That sucks. You work hard on a story, and some nimrod of a news editor fucks itup.”
“What’s up?” Joaquin made his way to hisdesk.
“There’s a typo in my headline.” Anna held up the front page and read. “Crossing the line: Brighton cops search Section 8 housing withoutwarants.’ With oneR.”
Sothat’swhy Tom wasshouting.
“So sorry, Anna.” Joaquin felt for her. She wouldn’t be able to enter that story or any of the follow-up pieces in any journalism contests or use it as a clip when she applied for other jobs. “You did great work. Nothing changesthat.”
Cate was the last to arrive. She said good morning to everyone—exceptJoaquin.
“Did you get in touch with the source that flaked on you yesterday?” Alexasked.
Carajo.
Why did he have to gothere?
“I did.” Cate put her handbag down on her desk. “Chief Irvingjust happenedto walk in on her while she was copying documents for me. He fired her on the spot and is consulting with the city attorney to decide whether he should filecharges.”
The sharp edge of guilt pressed in on Joaquin. Whatever that source was going through right now—loss of income, anxiety, possible legal troubles—was hisdoing.
