Breathless Secrets by Elizabeth Lennox

Chapter 12

Eleanor tapped an elegantly manicured fingernail on the polished table as she contemplated the picture in front of her.  She hadn’t read the article, too livid to focus that hard. 

“Would you like more coffee, ma’am?” one of the maids asked.

Eleanor turned her head and forced her lips into a polite smile. “No.  Thank you very much.”

She walked out of the dining room.  Her husband of five years had already left for his office in downtown Manhattan and Eleanor knew that she had a full schedule of social activities today.  Still, this latest insult couldn’t go unpunished. 

Eleanor had been quite clear the other day.  She’d set down the rules and, if there was one thing she simply couldn’t stand, it was for someone to disobey her.  Yes, she was fully aware that her animosity towards people who ignored her was caused by a childhood of living in a trailer that could have toppled over in a spring wind.  The people of the small town had looked down on her for her poor upbringing.  She’d hated every moment of living in that trailer park, where there was more rust than metal holding those trailers together. 

But now, she was a woman to be feared.  Since leaving that horrible trailer, she’d punished anyone who disobeyed her.  She’d even been quite strict with her son until he’d grown up and left the house.  No, that wasn’t quite true.  James had ignored her even before he’d become an adult.  The horrible boy had disobeyed her since he turned five years old.  Then he’d hide from her, knowing how terrible her wrath could be. 

Even so, the boy had managed to grow into a respectable adult.  One she was proud to call her son.  For a while there, Eleanor had been concerned, even to the point of telling her suitors that she didn’t have children.  It wasn’t until James had won his first multi-million dollar lawsuit that she’d found him acceptable. 

Thankfully, she’d been in between marriages when that had occurred. 

Eleanor sat down at her antique desk and flipped through the contacts on her computer.  She’d done an excellent job of networking over the years.  But it took her several minutes to find what she needed. 

When she’d figured out all of the pros and cons, Eleanor considered the details, the traps and issues that might cause her plan to fail, then worked on ways to ensure that her plan would succeed. 

When all of the details were fixed in her mind, she started working.  A certain person with less than enviable scruples was her first phone call.  Once that was in place, she worked on her computer for over an hour, setting up the details that would need to be in place before her plan could work. 

Then she called her favorite reporter.  She liked him because he didn’t have an ethical code.  Ethics could be a stumbling block in the way of a good story, Eleanor thought with a tight smile. 

“Mike!” Eleanor gushed.  “How are you today?”

Mike Daines ended the call, looking out the window of his one bedroom apartment as he contemplated this new information.  It was probably a lie, but…hell, what a great lie!  He could get back onto the major news agencies with this story, if he spun it right.  By the time the rest of the world discovered that it wasn’t fully accurate, he’d be a national name, someone that others would take seriously.

Leaning back in his cracked, faux-leather chair, he tapped his pen against his nose, ironing out the details.  Eleanor Morgan was a handful, and then some, but she’d given him a few good stories over the years.  Mike also knew it was worth his life to stay away from her bad side.  So it was better to just do as she’d instructed and figure out a way to cover his ass through innuendo versus accuracy. 

Decision made, he sat up and started typing on his laptop.  Within minutes, he’d already sketched out a rough draft of the story that he’d submit to his editor, once he had a few more…“facts” of course. 

With a sigh, he snapped his laptop shut and stuffed it into the cross-body bag that he carried everywhere, grabbed a few more pens and his cell phone, on which he’d get snippets of conversation.  He suspected that any recorded conversations he obtained would need a great deal of editing, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d manipulated a recording.  He suspected that it wouldn’t be the last, either.  It was almost comical how easy it was to edit interviews so that only the words he needed the interviewees to say were heard by the pansies surfing the internet for juicy stories. 

With a chuckle, he grabbed his car keys and headed out, eager to get to work. 

Forty-five minutes later, he parked his car across the street from his target and pulled out the camera already fitted with the long range lens.  He’d been here several times over the past month and had already gotten several excellent shots of the couple.

Sitting back, he pulled a caffeine drink out of the bag that he kept in the back of his car.  Of course, the back seat was filled with trash and debris from previous “stake outs”, so the first can he grabbed was empty.  He had to fish around to find one that was full.  He really should clean out his car, Mike thought.  It was getting pretty bad. 

But not today, he told himself and slouched into a more comfortable position to wait.