Madeline McCormick anchored the nightly news for the network that owned Channel Four.
Despite Cassidy’s words, she and Jerry knew that bigfooting happened all the time. A junior reporter would get a lead, do all the work, and then before it could go to air, the more senior reporter would take the story and claim it as his—or in this case, her—own.
“You don’t have a choice,” Jerry said, twisting his hands. “We can’t afford to make Madeline angry.”
“You can’t do this to me. This is my story. I broke it, and I’m the one making it happen.”
“And Maddy appreciates that,” Jerry said, as if he and “Mad Maddy” were now best buddies.
Cassidy was sure he had probably spoken only to the woman’s assistant.
“No, you don’t understand. You know all the good leads I’ve been getting? Well, the sources I have inside this investigation are my sources, and my sources only. How do you think I broke the story about Katie’s blog? How do you think I knew before anyone else that the blood on Jalape?o was the dog’s and not Katie’s? You give this story to Madeline and that will be the last we hear from any of my sources, I can promise you that.”
Jerry stared at her. They both knew Cassidy was telling the truth.
She allowed herself a small smile. “Tell you what. Madeline can do the intro and bring viewers up to date. But this is my interview. And mine alone.”
That evening, a calm descended over Cassidy as she waited for a signal that they were on air. Until then, it seemed that the senator and his wife were in no mood for small talk. They sat together on a blue love seat, facing her, but not looking at her or each other. They both wore pained expressions. It was clear that the only reason Senator Fairview was here was to make a last-ditch effort to save his reputation.
What they didn’t know was that Cassidy had instructed one of the cameras always to be on them, even now, before the program officially began. You never knew when an outtake might be the most valuable piece of film you shot. Senator Fairview looking bored, or shifting his eyes from side to side, or ignoring his wife—all of it could be used to make a point in later coverage.
The story had gotten so big that it was now drawing crackpots. Twice now Cassidy had gotten voice mails ordering her to stop asking so many questions about Katie, warning her that it was none of her business. She was hoping that the next call would be even juicier so she could play it on the air.
The cameraman counted down with his fingers, and they were on.
Cassidy took a deep breath. TV viewers sometimes complained that women couldn’t do serious news, not with their tendency to half smile even when announcing horrendous death tolls. Not with their singsong, high-pitched voices. She was careful to keep any hint of a smile from her lips as she spoke in a low-pitched, even voice.
“Senator Fairview, Mrs. Fairview, thank you so much for joining us tonight. Senator, I would like to ask you what everyone in Oregon—and in the nation—is wondering. Do you know what happened to Katie Converse?”
Even as the words left Cassidy’s mouth, Fairview was already answering. “No, I do not.”
Now he looked at her steadily. Next to him on the navy blue love seat, Nancy held her husband’s hand. Her expression had changed to one of concern.
“What was your relationship with Katie, Senator?”
He looked up and to the right, as if he were searching his memory instead of trotting out another carefully rehearsed answer. Cassidy was sure Fairview had practiced every word, every expression, every turn of phrase. Just as she had.
“Well, I met Katie Converse last spring when she applied to be sponsored by me as a Senate page. Which I agreed to do. And then in September she became one of dozens of young people who work as pages in the House and the Senate.”
“Did you have anything to do with Katie’s disappearance?” Cassidy kept her pacing quick. She wanted to get to the good stuff, to the topics that might knock Fairview off balance.
“No, I didn’t.” His answer was smooth. Concern with just a hint of anger.
“Did you kill Katie Converse?”
“I did not.”
She decided to switch it up a bit and project sympathy. “Have all the rumors and speculation been hard on you and your family?”
Fairview turned to Nancy, and they exchanged a glance that appeared private and that Cassidy bet had also been rehearsed a dozen times.
Then he turned back to her. “The media have tried to go through my wife’s medical records, and the tabloids have chased my children. But the fact of the matter is, this is not about the Fairviews. This is about the Converses. And what we’ve experienced is minor pain compared to what Mr. and Mrs. Converse are going through. Our hearts go out to them.”