The Ramsey Security team offers a private jet for the flight to New York City. They claim it belongs to a friend. I don't ask questions though Nell does. She worries about the favors we're calling in, and what they'll cost her. Marx only laughs and says she watches too many movies. He loves the idea of these badass people with their killer contacts.
I hate flying and take pills for airsickness and nerves. Imagining Saskia traveling the world, I can't have her see me freaking out over turbulence or a busy airport. Lawrence warned me not to play a part, but the real Brad is a chickenshit too often. The Brad needing to woo Saskia fears nothing. I'll lie if it means I get the girl in the end.
We arrive in the city hours later and check into the hotel. My first concern is how closely Saskia's and my rooms are situated. During the flight and arrival at the hotel, she refuses to make eye contact and keeps her distance. I'm not fooled, though.
The interviews take place in one of the hotel's conference rooms. The publicist and Mom organize everything. All I have to do is sit next to Marx and answer the same questions from each reporter.
Saskia catches my eye. Wearing a white sweater, beige leggings, and brown knee-high boots, she's the picture of elegance. I can't look away, even when the first reporter enters. I only want to watch Saskia own the room.
The questions are pretty standard.
"What have you done the last ten years?"
I keep my answer short and to the point, just as Mom instructed. She doesn't trust reporters, and Marx is dying to do most of the talking anyway. After I tell the reporters how I've been writing songs for country musicians, they immediately want to know if I'll return to acting.
"I have no interest in being in front of the camera."
"What do you hope to gain with your book?"
"I wanted to confront what happened, and Marx helped me put it all together."
Hearing his name, Marx takes over by explaining how he researched the police records and learned all he could about the cult's possible origins. While he talks out of his ass, my thoughts linger on Saskia.
The day moves slowly but surely as one reporter after another arrives, sets up, asks their questions, and leaves. I'm on autopilot by the third interview. Mostly, I'm wondering if I can talk Saskia into having dinner with me. The city scares the shit out of me, but this place has a romantic element that I'd be a fool not to capitalize on with Saskia.
So lost in my head, I don't know many interviews we've done when I hear a name that knocks the wind out of me.
"Let me ask you about Dennis Stein," Jackie says, and I truly focus on the reporter for the first time.
Dennis's face flashes before me. I remember him showing me the blade he intended to use to cut symbols into my back and chest. I also replay the moment when I used a lamp to smash in his head.
"What about him?" I ask, swallowing hard.
"His family continues to claim he wasn't involved in a cult. In fact, they claim he was an addict you killed in a drug-related dispute. How do you respond to these accusations?"
Her words make me want to puke. Feeling cornered, I nearly lash out. What can I say, though? If I deny the allegations, she'll twist my words. If I say nothing, she'll twist my silence. If I call her a bitch and storm out, she'll look like the victim.
Marx sits dumbfounded next to me. How did we not expect a little gotcha journalism from at least one of these reporters? I see Mom itching to speak up, but she restrains herself. To my surprise, Saskia walks past my mother and in front of the camera.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Ms. Pinard," Saskia says, startling the reporter and cameraman. "I'm curious if your family's history with drug addiction has biased your questions."
"Excuse me?" Jackie demands. "Who the hell are you?"
The room pulses with tension, and everyone seems a little startled by the change in tempo. The reporter's face is beet red now, and I have the urge to laugh. Saskia's words erase my anger. She's a damn goddess.
"Several members of your immediate family suffer from addictions," Saskia continues, "and have been forcibly treated as part of their criminal sentencing. I can't help wondering if your defense of Dennis Stein is related to your family's problems."
“'How do you know this shit?" Jackie yells, jumping to her feet.
Once again, I watch someone larger challenge Saskia and smile at how she doesn't even flinch. The reporter looms over the redhead.
"I did security checks on all of the reporters speaking with Mister Sloane today. Your family's history gave me pause. Your brother has been in rehab twice, leaving me to suspect you're overly sympathetic to the idea of Dennis Stein as the victim addict."
"You investigated me?"
"It's called Google," Saskia says in a deadpan voice. "Everything I found is easily discoverable by anyone with an internet connection."
"And you think this protects your client from answering real questions about the murder of Dennis Stein?"
"You will either deal with your bias before the interview airs, or we will respond to your flawed interview afterward by pointing out your biases."
"Are you threatening me?"
Saskia says nothing. Her cold eyes do all the talking.
"This interview is over," Jackie growls, storming past the cameraman.