Charlotte Lamb
CHAPTER ONE
'I'M OFF!' Stacie said in William's ear, and he jumped, looking round at her in surprise, his brown hair dishevelled and his tie off.
'I wish you wouldn't creep up on me like that! I get jumpy working in this place with Atkins breathing down my neck.'
Stacie glanced down the long room to where the stolidly ominous figure of the Night Editor was looming over one of the other reporters. 'Giving you a hard time, is he?'
'Is he ever! He's got two of us trying to track down Nicholas Kinsella. I've rung everybody I can think of who might know where the guy is, but nobody is talking. They all say he hasn't left the States, but Atkins got a tip from someone in New York who says Kinsella's over here and up to something.' William massaged his right arm gloomily. 'I'm getting cramp from holding this phone, and I'm beginning to think Atkins is wasting his time.'
'How good is his source, did he say?'
William shrugged. 'He claims the guy is a hundred per cent reliable. I got the feeling it was someone close to Kinsella, but Atkins isn't parting with any names.'
Stacie made a wry face. 'I'm glad I'm getting out of here for a few days. This is a crazy place at the moment, everyone seems to be frenetic. It must be the run-up to Christmas making them so jumpy.'
William shot a wary look down the editorial office, saw that the Night Editor was otherwise engaged, and quickly slid an arm
round Stacie's shoulders, pulling her face down towards him. 'Give me a kiss before you go.'
She kissed him lingeringly. The bald man at the next desk watched, saying plaintively: 'Hey, watch my blood pressure! I can't take all this excitement in the office at my age.'
'Shut up, George,' said William, as Stacie straightened again, the overhead lights gleaming on her auburn hair and giving it the brilliance of newly minted gold. His hazel eyes held warmth as he watched her. He was a slim attractive man in his late twenties with a humorous, lively face and an even temperament; he and Stacie had been seeing a good deal of each other for several months. It was a relationship poised on a knife edge which could go either way at any moment. They were not in love—yet she felt that at any moment it might happen, their friendship could become something very different. They liked so many of the same things, they shared a common attitude to life, she couldn't remember dating anyone she liked more. At the same time she instinctively did not want to hurry into love, she wanted their feelings to grow naturally. She did not want to turn on the heat too soon.
'I'd better be on my way,' she said, smiling down at him. 'See you on Monday—and good luck with the Kinsella story. I hope you find him.'
He lowered his voice so that only she could hear him. 'I'd like to get on to his track before Gerry does. We're both in line for the deputy chief reporter job, remember. Atkins will be keeping a close eye on both of us over the next month. I'd like to get ahead of Gerry on this story.' William was ambitious, he was a good
reporter and he had a shrewd intelligent mind, but, as in any office, it was necessary to take account of the internal politics of promotion. The Night Editor was an empire- builder, he liked to place his own men, men he could rely on to support him in any office warfare, in key positions and William's chief rival, Gerry King, was one of the Night Editor's drinking buddies and supporters, which meant that William would have to work twice as hard to get the job he wanted.
'What does Atkins think Kinsella is up to over here,^ anyway?' Stacie asked. It was very warm in the spacious yet crowded room; the central heating was turned right up and all the men were in shirtsleeves and had taken off their ties and undone their collars. Outside the night sky was clear and dark; not a cloud in sight, which meant a heavy frost, no doubt, and icy roads before morning. Stacie had a long drive ahead of her and should be on her way by now, but she was concerned about William. It meant so much to him to get that job.
