Read Online Nobody Knows by Mary Jane Clark - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mary Jane Clark
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using had to be parked in a protected area. The camera set up for live shots should be kept dry. A hotel suite with sliding glass doors to the terrace would work fine for the latter concern. Cassie could go out on the terrace and get blown around in the wind and pounding rain while the cameraman, Felix Rodriguez, could shoot, nice and dry, from inside the room.
Leroy had been to Sarasota several times before. As he scrolled through the hotel listings, he remembered there was an inn with terraces and covered parking facinga marina on Sarasota Bay leading out to the Gulf of Mexico. Yeah, there it was. This should work out fine. All those boats tossing about in the angry waters would be just out their window. He dialed the number and booked two rooms on an upper floor and two downstairs, all facing the marina.
They had to get going on the drive across state. These tropical storms could turn into hurricanes even when the weather service wasn’t really expecting them to. Giselle was gathering speed quickly, and Leroy didn’t want to get caught with his pants down. And what did they have to do anyway? New York wasn’t putting them on TV for anything else. If this kept up, someone up there might have the bright idea that there was no need for a Miami Bureau. For the umpteenth time Leroy resented the hell out of being saddled with Cassie Sheridan.
Go figure. Once, being Cassie’s producer was one of the most prestigious spots for any of the
Evening Headlines
producers. Working with her ensured that your work would be regularly on air. You’d have a shot at Emmy and Peabody Awards. But no more. That was too bad for Cassie, but he had to make himself valued by the powers that be. He couldn’t be tainted by his association with her.
Leroy clicked off the website and walked over to the next office. The correspondent was at her desk, frowning, watching a television monitor tuned to the Weather Channel. She looked up at Leroy as he stood in the doorway and waited for him to speak.
“Go home and pack your gear. We’ll drive over to Sarasota this afternoon.”
Cassie let out a sound, somewhere between a sigh and a groan.
Leroy’s eyes narrowed behind his black-framed glasses. “Bad attitude, Cassie. I’d think you’d be eager to get out and try to get on the air. I know I damn well want to.”
“I know you do, Leroy. And I feel for you. I do. We both know what’s going on, though we don’t talk about it.”
He watched Cassie as her shoulders slumped. He might even have felt sorry for her, if his own fate weren’t so entangled with hers. Instead, he felt angry at her defeatist attitude. “Look, I’m not interested in a lengthy discussion of what’s going on with you and your career right now, Cassie. Let’s just get out of this office and cover some news. Go ahead, go home and pack your boots and rubber pants.”
Cassie got up, switched off the television, and hitched her carry bag onto her shoulder. Leroy stepped aside as she silently passed him on her way out the door.
How the mighty had fallen.
CHAPTER 13
Sarasota’s elderly population ensured that J. Harrison Lewis, M.D., had a thriving practice. There was an endless supply of cloudy cataracts that needed to be removed, and Harry had the best reputation in the city for getting the job done. Business was so good that the wait for an initial appointment was two months, and surgeries were scheduled another month to six weeks after that.
Perhaps the wait wouldn’t have been so long if Dr. Lewis had put in more working hours. But life was short, and what was the point of all those years in medical school and internship and residency and pushing himself at Manhattan Eye, Ear and Throat if now, after building his private practice here in the Sunshine State, he didn’t enjoy the fruits of his labor? He instructed his nurses not to schedule anything after two o’clock, he took every Wednesday and weekend off, and he made a point of taking at least six weeks of
Leroy had been to Sarasota several times before. As he scrolled through the hotel listings, he remembered there was an inn with terraces and covered parking facinga marina on Sarasota Bay leading out to the Gulf of Mexico. Yeah, there it was. This should work out fine. All those boats tossing about in the angry waters would be just out their window. He dialed the number and booked two rooms on an upper floor and two downstairs, all facing the marina.
They had to get going on the drive across state. These tropical storms could turn into hurricanes even when the weather service wasn’t really expecting them to. Giselle was gathering speed quickly, and Leroy didn’t want to get caught with his pants down. And what did they have to do anyway? New York wasn’t putting them on TV for anything else. If this kept up, someone up there might have the bright idea that there was no need for a Miami Bureau. For the umpteenth time Leroy resented the hell out of being saddled with Cassie Sheridan.
Go figure. Once, being Cassie’s producer was one of the most prestigious spots for any of the
Evening Headlines
producers. Working with her ensured that your work would be regularly on air. You’d have a shot at Emmy and Peabody Awards. But no more. That was too bad for Cassie, but he had to make himself valued by the powers that be. He couldn’t be tainted by his association with her.
Leroy clicked off the website and walked over to the next office. The correspondent was at her desk, frowning, watching a television monitor tuned to the Weather Channel. She looked up at Leroy as he stood in the doorway and waited for him to speak.
“Go home and pack your gear. We’ll drive over to Sarasota this afternoon.”
Cassie let out a sound, somewhere between a sigh and a groan.
Leroy’s eyes narrowed behind his black-framed glasses. “Bad attitude, Cassie. I’d think you’d be eager to get out and try to get on the air. I know I damn well want to.”
“I know you do, Leroy. And I feel for you. I do. We both know what’s going on, though we don’t talk about it.”
He watched Cassie as her shoulders slumped. He might even have felt sorry for her, if his own fate weren’t so entangled with hers. Instead, he felt angry at her defeatist attitude. “Look, I’m not interested in a lengthy discussion of what’s going on with you and your career right now, Cassie. Let’s just get out of this office and cover some news. Go ahead, go home and pack your boots and rubber pants.”
Cassie got up, switched off the television, and hitched her carry bag onto her shoulder. Leroy stepped aside as she silently passed him on her way out the door.
How the mighty had fallen.
CHAPTER 13
Sarasota’s elderly population ensured that J. Harrison Lewis, M.D., had a thriving practice. There was an endless supply of cloudy cataracts that needed to be removed, and Harry had the best reputation in the city for getting the job done. Business was so good that the wait for an initial appointment was two months, and surgeries were scheduled another month to six weeks after that.
Perhaps the wait wouldn’t have been so long if Dr. Lewis had put in more working hours. But life was short, and what was the point of all those years in medical school and internship and residency and pushing himself at Manhattan Eye, Ear and Throat if now, after building his private practice here in the Sunshine State, he didn’t enjoy the fruits of his labor? He instructed his nurses not to schedule anything after two o’clock, he took every Wednesday and weekend off, and he made a point of taking at least six weeks of
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