Free The Naked Eye by Iris Johansen Page A

nothing.”
    “Have I ever told you how uncomfortable I am with that nickname?”
    “Only because it reveals an ability you’d prefer to keep hidden. And at this moment, your comfort really isn’t all that important to me, Puppetmaster.” Kendra grabbed a stack of notebooks and shoved them into her leather satchel.
    “What now?”
    “I’m going to talk to Sheila Hunter.”
    “Like hell you are.”
    “Just try to stop me.”
    “I will.” He grabbed her wrist as she tried to push past him. “I’m telling you, it’s a bad idea. You can’t win.”
    “You think I should just shrink away without a word of protest?”
    “I’m not saying that at all. But you don’t want to give her fodder for a follow-up story. Trust me, you’ve given her too much already.”
    “Well, what I’m about to give her, no news organization could ever print.”
    “Wanna bet? If you go at her like a lunatic, not only will she pick out some choice quotes, she’ll record the whole thing. Just as I’m sure she did yesterday. And if you sound sufficiently deranged, that audio file will be all over the Web by the end of the afternoon.”
    “I can’t let it go, Lynch.”
    “At least let me go with you.”
    “No, this is between me and her.”
    “And possibly hundreds of thousands of readers. You’re not used to dealing with the media.”
    “I usually just ignore them.”
    “Excellent strategy. That’s exactly what you should be doing right now.”
    She thought for a moment. He was probably right. She knew all wisdom dictated he was right. But what about justice, dammit? Didn’t that count for anything?
    She turned toward the door. “Sorry, I just can’t do that. I’m talking to her alone. Lock up behind you, won’t you. You obviously won’t need a key.”
    She left the studio.
    *   *   *
    “SHEILA … SHEILA HUNTER!”
    Kendra ran across the plaza that fronted the Imperial Avenue headquarters of Hobart News, the media conglomerate that owned The Kinsley Chronicle. Two phone calls from her car was all she needed to know where to find Sheila, and the reporter was now practically sprinting from the building.
    Sheila pretended not to hear her, but Kendra cut her off. “It was all a big lie,” Kendra said fiercely. “That picture that you showed me yesterday.”
    “Dr. Michaels, I have a meeting I need to—”
    “Tough. You have a meeting with me right here, right now.”
    Sheila pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped it. “Look, I’m running late, so whatever you want to say to me—”
    Kendra grabbed her hand and turned it around to look at the phone’s front screen. A recording app was working away, with two graphic spools slowly spinning. Kendra pushed the apps red STOP button. “You do not have permission to record this conversation. Just as you didn’t yesterday.”
    “I stand by my story,” Sheila said.
    “Stand by it, don’t stand by it, I really don’t give a damn. The core of your story is correct. I believe Eric Colby is still alive. But until your piece appeared, he didn’t know I knew. That was a major advantage I had over him. He didn’t know I was looking for him, and now there’s a strong possibility he does.”
    Sheila’s lips curled in a disbelieving grin. “Dr. Michaels, everyone but you seems to know that Eric Colby is dead. I really did watch him die.”
    “And yet you mocked up those photos to offer me proof that suggested otherwise.”
    She shrugged. “I knew it was the only way I could get an interview with you. It was a gaping hole in my story.”
    “How did you even do those pictures?”
    “A friend of mine is a real-estate agent, and she got me into an identical unit in that building.”
    “ Almost identical,” Kendra said.
    “Close enough. A bit of Photoshop helped out, too.”
    “That’s why you wouldn’t let me have copies. You didn’t want me to be able to study them for too long.”
    “Well, they did their job.”
    “Your ‘story’ doesn’t even