SEALed With A Kiss(6)
Ophelia rubbed her hands together briskly, wishing she’d thought to bring gloves. The beat of a bass drum filled her ears, overlaid by the blare of trumpets as a marching band tramped closer. She and Bella had arrived late and still managed to insinuate themselves among the crowd. They stood on the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum, right where the parade ended. As float after float passed them, each one more colorful than the last, Ophelia’s excitement about the upcoming holiday rose. Christmas motifs abounded, lifting her spirits. I’ll tell Vinny about the baby at Christmas, she decided. Wouldn’t that make a nice present!
Now she had a good reason for keeping her secret.
When at last the city council float came into view, marking the end of the parade and decorated with a massive Christmas tree that spired twenty feet into the air, the crowd roared with appreciation. Most of the people in attendance recognized the mayor of Philadelphia, a swarthy Italian whose expressive gestures made him enormously popular. The mayor blew kisses back at the crowd as he accepted their accolades, taking credit for the event that was in its 94th year.
His appearance was Ophelia’s cue to rendezvous with Lt. Governor Jay Rawlings in the office complex adjacent to the museum. They’d arranged for the interview to take place just as the parade disbanded. Rawlings wanted to keep it short. He’d scheduled lunch with the mayor right afterward.
Ophelia leaned toward Bella, who was snapping off pictures with her Nikon camera, and shouted in her ear. “Hey, I forgot to tell you that I’m supposed to interview someone right after this. It’ll take me twenty minutes. Stay right here, and I’ll find you when I’m done.”
Bella’s cherry-colored eyes widened with alarm. “Why can’t I come with you?” she asked. “The parade’s almost over.”
Figuring Bella wouldn’t take no for an answer—those DeInnocentis were so damned stubborn—Ophelia conceded with a shrug and led the way down the museum steps and across the street to an office complex leased by the environmental advocacy group that Rawlings chaired.
As they approached the building number Ophelia was looking for, a man wearing a wool trench coat, his cheeks ruddy from the cold, studied her approach with a hopeful look. “Ophelia Price?” he asked. She had kept her maiden name for the sake of simplicity.
“Yes.” Adopting the demeanor of a top-notch reporter, Ophelia extended a hand. “And you are?”
“Dave Collum. I’m Jay Rawlings’ assistant. He’s expecting you.” His tepid smile faded as his dark eyes shifted toward Bella. “I understood it would only be you.”
“Oh, this is my camera woman,” Ophelia asserted, thinking fast. “With the lieutenant governor’s permission, we’d like to film the interview.”
Collum’s gaze fell to the Nikon camera hanging on a strap around Bella’s neck and he shrugged. “It’s up to him,” he decided, pulling open the door behind him. “Follow me.”
They stepped into a wide, echoing stairwell blessedly warmer than it was outside. Chatting about the weather and the magnificent parade, they climbed marble steps to the second level and stepped into a dark, deserted hallway and through a set of double doors. Ophelia’s gaze lit immediately upon Jay Rawlings, who rolled out of the chair he was lounging in, fixed a plastic-looking smile on his face, and said, “Ah, here she is.”
“I hope I didn’t keep you,” Ophelia apologized, taking a mental snapshot of his overall physique. The lieutenant governor was built like Vinny, only taller. The former Marine claimed the body of a much younger man, with broad shoulders and hewn thighs. While he admitted in his bio to having served in the CIA after his stint in the Marines, he’d never been forthcoming about the type of work he’d done for the Agency.
“Not at all. I just sat down. That was quite a parade, huh?” His astute gray eyes swiveled in Bella’s direction.
Ophelia made introductions. “This is my camera woman, Bella. She’s an intern.”
“I didn’t realize you’d be filming me.” Jay Rawlings smoothed his thinning hair. “I thought this was just a write up for a Virginia paper.”
She’d misled his secretary intentionally. And while Ophelia meant for this interview to be little more than a fishing expedition, filming Rawlings’ reactions to her questions might be just what she needed to convince her boss to grant her exposé extra air time. “Well, no, I work for a news station—WTKR. We’re located in Norfolk with a large military population.”
“I see.” His plastic smile returned as he gestured to the seats behind them. “Should we have a seat or do this standing up?”