Page 75 of Hidden

Carrie didn’t want to fight, and she also didn’t want to admit that she felt safer with Peter around, so she drank her coffee and read the news on her phone until he announced it was time to leave.

A half hour after he dropped her off at her office, she was in a cab on her way to the Cabaret. They had cleared the scene in the middle of the night, but there were still some FBI agents hanging around. The club wouldn’t open until closer to noon, but some of the staff would come in early to get the place ready to open.

Lola was one of those people. Carrie was waiting for her by the employee entrance.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lola hissed. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble.”

“I just wanted to ask if you knew what happened last night and when you saw Savannah last.”

Lola backed away as if she was heading for her car again. “Nope. Sorry. Not talking to you. Savannah should have kept her big mouth shut.”

Carrie followed Lola. “Is she still alive?”

“Excuse me. Are you a cop?” Lola flagged down a man who seemed to be in charge of the scene.

“FBI. Agent Flinn, ma’am. Is everything OK?”

Carrie stepped in front of Lola and offered her hand. “I’m a reporter with UNN. Just looking for someone from last night’s incident who can answer a few questions.”

The agent looked back and forth between Carrie and Lola. Thankfully, the girl didn’t make a scene, just muttered something about needing to get to work and backed away.

“We’re not currently commenting on the incident. There will be a press conference at two this afternoon with an update on the case.”

Carrie nodded and pretended to enter the information into her phone. There was a text from Peter on her screen.

What the hell are you doing at the Cabaret?

Carrie battled with her response. They were forming a relationship, and she respected his worry, but she also couldn’t let him interfere with her job. In the end, she decided on a one-word response.

Working.

Since she had spooked Lola, she left, content to wait for the two o’clock press conference. By then, the club would be open, and she might get some better information from people who didn’t recognize her. As she climbed into the cab, Tom called her.

“Come to my office as soon as you get back to the studio.” There was no hello.

“Everything OK Tom?”

“I just need to talk to you.”

He sounded tense, so she didn’t push him.

In his office, he motioned to the couch. “Shut the door and sit down, please.”

Carrie pushed the door shut and sat on the edge of the couch. Something was wrong.

“I’ve been asked to bench you from the Upwood story. He’s in protective custody and his detail doesn’t want anyone making waves or putting him in danger.”

Carrie stared openmouthed at her boss. She’d never known him to be a coward. In all her years working as a journalist, she had never been removed from an assignment. It was a shock to her system, and she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Then it hit her.

“Did Peter Mercer put you up to this?” she asked.

“Who?” Tom scratched his temple and looked away from her.

“Never mind. Who asked you to bench me?”

“That’s not your concern. You’re off this story and you start full time as Gina’s EP on Monday. Take the rest of the week off.”

Carrie stared at her boss. “You’re sending me home? I’ve never known you to back down like this, Tom. What the fuck is going on?”

---