Page 12 of Thief of Night
Don would probably be thrilled to handle things.
Hauntress stood. “And if you feel nauseous or see double or anything like that, you need to go to urgent care. Head injuries are nasty. I knew a girl who hit her head onstage anddied.”
“Maybe we don’t need to tell her that, dear,” Odette said.
“I’m fine,” Charlie muttered, leaning back and closing her eyes. Her bodystill hurt from the fight with the Blight the night before. Maybe she should thank Fred for hitting her. At least it gave her an excuse to lie down.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she woke to her phone ringing. Fumbling for it, she answered without thinking, slicing her index finger as she swiped over the broken screen.
“Is this Charlotte Hall?” The voice was unfamiliar.
“Charlie,” she corrected muzzily, sticking her bleeding finger in her mouth. “I don’t want to buy anything.”
“I’m calling fromVulture—part ofNew Yorkmagazine? I want to talk to you about Edmund Carver. I understand that you and he are friends?”
“No,” she said, coming wide awake. “Wait. What?”
“I know you won’t want to reveal anything your friend would want to keep hidden and I know he must have been through a lot, but I can promise that this conversation will be completely confidential unless you say otherwise.”
“I don’t understand,” Charlie said, sitting upright. As soon as she did that, the room tilted alarmingly. For a moment, she had to close her eyes. What was it Hauntress had warned her about head injuries? “How do you have this number?”
“Someone is going to write his story,” the person on the other end of the phone said. “AtVulture,we care about getting things right.”
I want to talk to you about Edmund Carver. I understand that you and he are friends?
Notwerefriends.
Adeline had told Charlie that she’d had her lawyer working to get Edmund “Remy” Vincent Carver declared “not dead.” She’d already put out the story that Remy had been locked up in the basement of Salt’s mansion. According to Adeline, as quoted in theHampshire Gazette,“People venturing down into the bowels of the house after Salt’s death had discovered not just prisons, but Salt’s own son shouting for help.”
It was a pretty good story. In a better world, maybe it would have even been a true one.
Red will be very wealthy,Adeline had said, back when she’d thought she’d be the one tethered to him.He’ll be able to pick up where Remy’s life ended.
Suddenly, Charlie had a very good guess how a reporter fromVulturehad her number.
“So,” Charlie asked the reporter. “How well do you know Adeline?”
There was a long pause. “You got me,” the man said. “I went to school with a friend of Addy’s. That’s how she knows I’ll handle her cousin’s story respectfully. She thought you could let Remy know I was a safe person to talkwith. Since the news broke, he’s been quiet. No statements. No interviews. He’s not going to be able to do that forever.”
“Adeline’s technically his aunt. He’s her nephew.” Charlie really hopedthatmade it into the final article.
There was another pause as the reporter seemed to decide to change tactics. “Other news outlets will be calling. Remy’s story isn’t going to stay a paragraph in some longer piece about Lionel’s crimes forever. This is national news. And look, I’m not trying to warn you off of anyone, but there are some unscrupulous people out there.”
“Unscrupulous people, eh?” Charlie echoed, but her mind was racing.
The reporter gave an appreciative laugh, like he didn’t mind the implication. “The story is too good,” he said. “Filthy rich guy locks up his good-looking socialite grandson for more than a year while he frames him for murder? And I understand there were drugs involved. Nightly news will be all over this. Morning shows too, especially if he’s willing to cry. He could write a book.”
The reporter was right—audience interest in the wealthy was always intense, and the idea that one of them was engaged in something this lurid was compelling. The sufferings of young, handsome Remy Carver would thrill people.
Too bad young, handsome Remy Carver was actually still dead.
Charlie’s voice wavered, thinking of the scrutiny that was going to be applied to Red. “I’ll tell him you called.”
“We could also talk—you and me,” the reporter said. “Nothing too personal. Everything off the record. Just a few background details. His mother died of a drug overdose, didn’t she? That must have been hard. As his girlfriend—”
“If he wants to talk, he’ll let you know,” Charlie told the guy.
The reporter started to say something else, but Charlie hung up. Then she called Adeline.
