Irene looked at Adeline. “I wouldn’t have thought that the Glaston Cove Beacon was particularly popular with the Webb campaign people, given that we broke the story of Pamela’s death.”
Adeline downed some champagne and lowered the glass. “There may have been a sligh isunderstanding regarding the exact name of the paper when I phoned to request the credentials.”
Luke studied the plastic-encased card slung around his neck. “That would probably explain why our paperwork says that we’re with the Beacon Hill Banner.”
“A temporary miscommunication, which I am only too happy to correct.” Adeline reached into her tote bag, withdrew four press cards and handed them around. “Here are your replacement credentials.”
“Misunderstandings happen,” Luke said, removing the Beacon Hill Banner card from the plastic holder.
“They do, indeed,” Adeline agreed. She looked at Duncan. “I’ll hold that plate for you while yo xchange the cards.”
“Thanks.” Duncan gave her his heavily laden plate and busied himself with the process of removing and replacing the press cards.
Adeline ate one of the sandwiches and immediately helped herself to another.
Irene exchanged her credentials and went back to surveying the room. “No one here seems to be mourning the death of Hoyt Egan.”
Adeline shrugged and selected another tidbit from Duncan’s plate. “Webb’s new campaign manager released a statement earlier today. Called Egan’s death a terrible tragedy and said it clearly demonstrates that it is time to get tough on crime and that Ryland Webb has a plan to do just that.”
“Heard that before,” Duncan said. He finished fiddling with his credentials and reached to take back his plate. An alarmed scowl widened his eyes. “Hey, that’s my food, boss.”
“Oh, is it?” Unperturbed, Adeline seized one last cocktail sausage and then handed over the plate.
Luke looked at Irene. “How does it feel to be a big-time investigative journalist?”
“Adrenaline city,” she confessed. “Don’t usually get this jazzed when I cover the Glaston Cove city council meetings or choose the recipe of the week.”
Addy rubbed her hands together. “You aren’t the only one who is in high gear tonight, kiddo. Got t dmit this story of yours feels big, very, very big.”
Irene reached into her handbag, took out the little recorder and clipped it to the shoulder strap. She switched it on to make certain that it was working. “These gadgets have a bad habit of failing just when you’re about to start an interview.
Cameras ready, Duncan?”
“Ready and waiting.” Duncan gazed longingly at the buffet table. “Do I have time to refill my plate?”
Irene saw commotion in a doorway at the back of the room.
Webb appeared. Alexa Douglass was at his side. A short, anxious-looking man hovered in the background. Hoyt Egan’s replacement, no doubt.
“Forget the food, Duncan,” she said. “Webb just arrived.”
A keen expression lit Adeline’s face. “Here we go, boys and girls.”
Irene stepped out from behind the palm, notebook in hand. “Follow me.”
“The two scariest words in the English language,” Luke said dryly.
She paid no attention. She concentrated on forging a path through the crowd.
Ryland Webb was surrounded by a group of well-wishers and potential contributors, but his height made it possible t eep him in view.
Alexa Douglass spotted Irene first. Surprise and then a frown of alarm flashed across her face. She suppressed both reactions quickly beneath a polite smile and then whispered something to Ryland.
His head swiveled as he searched the crowd. When he saw Irene and her companions, he spok rgently to his new aide.
The short man hurried forward, obviously intent on intercepting her.
“Miss Stenson?” The aide planted himself directly in front of her. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to as ou to leave.” He glanced at Luke, Adeline and Duncan. “You and your friends.”
“I have some questions for the senator,” Irene said.
“He’s not giving interviews tonight. He’s entertaining his guests.”
“Tell Senator Webb that I am in possession of a video that was recently shot on location in Europe,”
Irene said. “Make it clear that the story about that particular junket and several others to the same destination is set to appear in tomorrow’s edition of the Glaston Cove [_Beacon. _] Ask him if he woul are to comment.”
The aide’s face creased with bewilderment. He glanced back over his shoulder at Webb, who ha urned his back on the small group.
“Better not make this decision on your own, son,” Adeline advised the aide. “This is big.”
The short man dithered briefly
“Wait here,” he said.
He spun around and worked his way back through the throng to where Ryland stood surrounded by people. Irene watched him deliver the message in low-voiced tones.
Ryland jerked as though he had been tapped by a cattle prod. He turned slowly to look at Irene. Sh ad to hand it to him, she thought, his expression was well schooled, giving nothing away But she could see raw fury burning in his eyes.
“If looks could kill,” Adeline murmured, “I think we’d all be smoking cinders about now.”
“Oh, man, he looks pissed, all right.” Duncan sounded remarkably cheerful. He took aim with a video camera. “This’ll be great for the online site.”
Ryland said something to the aide and to Alexa. Then he started toward Irene.
“Showtime,” Irene said softly. She stepped forward to meet him, raising her voice.
“Senator Webb,
what can you tell us about your last trip to Europe?”
“Not here.” Ryland glared at Luke, Adeline and Duncan. He angled his head toward a hallway. “I’l peak to you all in private.”
He moved off through the crowd, not waiting for an answer. Irene followed quickly, aware that th thers were close behind her. She checked the recorder clipped to her shoulder bag one last time.
Duncan selected another camera.
Ryland strode swiftly down a hall and turned into a small conference room. Irene, Luke, Adeline and Duncan trooped in behind him. He slammed the door shut and whirled to confront Irene.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded in a voice that vibrated with rage.
“Senator Webb, the Glaston Cove Beacon is in possession of some computer files containing evidence and videos that appear to show you in the act of raping an underage girl in a European brothel,” Irene said. “Do you have a comment?”