“I knew my law degree was worthless. No reputable firm was going to hire Garth Montgomery’s daughter. So I fell back on my journalism degree. I moved to California and took a job at the LA Times. I broke a big case about a missing kid in Florida, and it got a lot of attention. I was invited to appear on American Events to tell the story. Mack Carter and I hit it off. Soon, I was guest hosting once a week covering other missing persons stories and the like.”
“As Avery Mason.”
She nodded. “I found my niche with a strange combination of morbidly fascinating cases and the inspirational.”
“Like the lady who crashed into the lake and managed to save her four kids.”
Avery smiled. “You really are a fan of the show.”
Walt nodded. He waited for her to continue.
“Last summer, Mack Carter died while on assignment and HAP News tapped me to take over. I agreed because there was no way I could turn the opportunity down. It’s been a year now, and there have been lots of stories about my success after taking over for one of America’s most beloved newsmagazine hosts. I found myself in this sort of whirlpool I couldn’t get out of. No one’s made the connection to my father yet. But sooner or later, someone will.”
Avery lifted her vodka.
“So that’s what I’m running from.”
“No one knows about your father?” Walt asked.
“People know. I spent twenty-nine years as Claire Montgomery, creating a life and laying down roots. I’m still very much Claire Montgomery. I’ve heard from plenty of friends and former classmates who watch the show. The network sends my checks to Claire Montgomery. It’s a common enough name that no one important has made the connection yet. But it’ll happen. At some point, it’ll happen. The only reason it hasn’t yet is because my popularity is too new and came too quickly. If you add up all the people who know me as Garth Montgomery’s daughter you might come to, what, a couple hundred? A thousand? Do we each personally know a thousand people? The American Events audience who knows me as Avery Mason is fifteen-million strong.”
“So what happens when it comes out?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe I lose it all. I just finished my first full season as host of AE. There hasn’t been a lot of time for my past to come out. But the reality is that I can’t hide nearly thirty years of life.”
“Why would you? You don’t need to hide anything. So you have a shitty father—join the crowd.”
Avery laughed. “Mine’s shittier than most. And infamous.”
“So what? None of it was your fault. None of his sins are a reflection on you. You’re an investigative journalist who has a wildly popular show. Why are you hiding anything?”
“I didn’t plan to hide anything. Not really. This whole thing happened so fast that I haven’t had time to right the ship.”
“So get out in front of it. That’s how these things are handled and put quickly to rest. That this part of your past exists is not the problem. Hiding it is.”
“I plan to. Get out in front of it. But . . .”
Walt waited. “But what?”
He saw Avery hesitate, and sensed she was choosing her words carefully.
“But what?” he asked again.
“But I have a few things to take care of first.”
CHAPTER 50
Manhattan, NY Sunday, July 4, 2021
IT WAS 9:30 P.M. WHEN THEY LEFT THE RUM HOUSE. THEIR NEXT DESTINATION was not discussed, but they headed back toward the Lowell. As they walked, they heard a pop behind them, turned, and saw the cascading streaks of an arching firework far off in the distance. The fireworks display was staged near the Brooklyn Bridge and set off from barges on the East River. A pinwheel rocketed into the sky and expanded into a burst of brightness. The subtle boom came a second later, delayed by having to travel halfway up the island of Manhattan to reach them. They stood quietly and watched for a minute. Walt felt Avery take his hand and intertwine her fingers with his. After a few minutes they turned and headed to Avery’s hotel.
When they reached the front entrance, Avery tugged and he followed her inside. The elevator deposited them on the eighth floor. Walt felt his shirt begin to stick to his back again, and preemptively blotted his forehead with the back of his hand. He followed Avery down the hallway and stood behind her as she unlocked the door. Following her through the entryway, he spotted the thin metal box on the edge of the coffee table. To him, it was as obvious as if another person were standing in the room waiting for them.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Avery said. “I’ll be right out.”
As soon as the bathroom door closed Walt exhaled, allowing his shoulders to relax and his chin to drop to his chest. He hurried over and grabbed the box. If he planned to plant the bugs, now would be the time to do it. It took him only a fraction of a second to decide against it. He would not allow Avery’s private conversations to be recorded. Jim Oliver could go to hell. He dropped the box into his pocket just as Avery walked from the bathroom.
He checked his watch. “You know what? I think I’m going to get going.”
Avery walked over to him and put her hands on his chest. She kissed his lips, and all the guilt and apprehension Walt had felt earlier in the night evaporated. He pulled her close so their hips touched, then he lifted her off her feet and carried her a few paces until they fell onto the bed. The pages of Victoria Ford’s manuscripts flew like confetti into the air. Neither noticed.
CHAPTER 51
Manhattan, NY Monday, July 5, 2021
THEY JOGGED THE TRAILS THROUGH CENTRAL PARK ON MONDAY morning. When they had woken thirty minutes earlier, the awkwardness from the previous morning was gone. Avery had felt no need to sneak out. Instead, she had leaned over his sleeping body and whispered in his ear.
“I need a run.”
Walt slivered an eye open. “Is that your way of making me leave?”
“No, I just don’t want you to think I snuck out again. Want to come with?”
“I’ll have to grab shorts and shoes from my hotel.”
“Central Park. Meet you at Columbus Circle in twenty minutes.”
As they jogged now Avery could see that the paths were more congested than they had been over the weekend. Tuesday would mark the return to normal, and before long the city would be as crowded as always. A tinge of melancholy soured her stomach. The past weekend had felt like some sort of oasis that belonged to just her and Walt—it had started with dinner at Keens and was, sadly, ending this morning. In addition to reviewing the Cameron Young case, they had shared painful secrets about their pasts. Aside from Connie Clarkson, Walt was the first person Avery had discussed her father with. He hadn’t seemed stunned or scared or appalled or any of the other reactions Avery imagined people having when they found out who her father was. The truth, Avery finally understood, was that Walt’s reaction was normal. Her father’s crimes were not a reflection of who she was.
They ended their run at 9:00 a.m. and each headed back to their hotel to shower and change. Avery arrived at the restaurant first and was seated at a table for two on the outdoor patio. She sipped coffee and scrolled through her phone. Christine Swanson had gotten back to her on the research Avery had asked her to do on Natalie Ratcliff. Christine believed in only two modes of communication—text messages or face-to-face meetings. And so, when Avery checked her phone she found it filled with foot-long texts from Christine containing links to articles and stories about Natalie Ratcliff, her husband, and his wealthy family, along with Christine’s own commentary. As Avery scrolled, she learned that Natalie Ratcliff wrote books for the pure joy of storytelling, not due to any fiduciary obligation to support her family. Her in-laws more than had life’s finances covered. The Ratcliffs owned and operated the second largest cruise line conglomerate in the United States, the fourth largest in the world. But unlike the other behemoths in the industry, Ratcliff International Cruise Lines was privately owned with no outside money.