A/N: Thanks to Max2013, Leya, Guest, Jackie, Guest, Cheryl, Red, and Cameron1812 for reviewing! I loved reading what you had to say. And it makes me laugh how paranoid those of us who follow the Hardy Boys get during a story. Must be Joe's trouble magnet. Lol Thanks again, and thanks to those who are reading!
Chapter 9
Iola was nervous as she stepped onto the set of Conversation with America. The first thing she noticed was how small it was. It seemed so much larger on TV. Also, what she had always thought was a cozy living room, was actually just a corner, decorated with furniture and a fake fireplace.
The producer led her over to an armchair and clipped a microphone to her cardigan sweater. Her new cardigan, unlike any she's ever seen before. It was chic and stylish…no Mr. Rogers vibe whatsoever. And pairing it with the new shirt, skirt, belt and shoes, made Iola feel wonderful. The stylist had been so helpful. She'd studied Iola for a bit, told her that her look was very classic, and that retro clothes with a modern twist were made for her. After trying them all on, Iola couldn't agree more. And she'd loved trying clothes on. It made her feel normal again.
Agent Castellano was sitting just off to the side of the set, in order to make sure that any questions Iola was asked would not compromise their investigation. Some details of her case were still classified, and couldn't be discussed on the air. Just having her close by made Iola feel better.
Agent Castellano stood and approached Iola. "You look beautiful, and I know you'll do a great job. I do want to warn you that they're not going to pull any punches during this interview. Just be prepared for whatever you might be asked. Some of it will be unpleasant and uncomfortable, and we can discuss it afterwards. If a question references anything off limits, I will raise my hand, and you say that you can't answer it. Your personal life will be exposed during this. Are you okay with that?"
"I'm okay with anything that will end this nightmare for good," Iola said, making sure her voice was firm. "I want the country to know the king is an insane psychopath, and I want him to be so embarrassed, he'll never show his face on the world's stage again."
Agent Castellano nodded. "Good. Then let's do this. Here comes Dana now."
Dana Stephens, long-time reporter and TV host, and the female maverick at the network, approached Iola. Her smile was warm and friendly, but Iola knew the woman was as tough as nails. That was fine.
Iola was ready.
OOOoooOOO
Callie stood outside the door of Vanessa and Joe's condo, balancing four bags of Chinese food in her arms. She rang the doorbell with her elbow.
Vanessa opened the door and smiled. "Here let me help you," she said to Callie, taking two of the bags Callie was carrying.
As Vanessa headed toward the kitchen, she called back, "Did Frank text you?"
"Yeah," Callie said, following Vanessa with another two bags. "I guess he and Joe are going to be stuck at the office on a case for a while."
Callie knew darn well the case they were working on was Iola's, but since Frank had told her to keep the info under wraps, she wasn't going to say a word. Besides, she didn't think Vanessa would appreciate it.
"Maybe we should just start eating then," Vanessa said, taking a few cartons out of the paper sacks and opening them. "Who knows when the guys will finally show up."
"I agree," Callie said, reaching for an eggroll.
Vanessa smiled. "Let's take this in the other room and binge watch something on TV."
"Sounds good to me," Callie replied, "but can we check out Conversation with America first?"
"Um, sure, but why?"
"Iola texted me earlier saying that she couldn't have lunch because she was being interviewed tonight. And she's staying overnight in the city so that she can be on Daybreak tomorrow morning."
"Wow," Vanessa said. "Yeah, sure."
Callie was relieved. She hadn't been sure how Vanessa would react to Iola's name being mentioned. She was grateful things seemed to be going so well between everyone.
She only hoped it would last.
OOOoooOOO
Joe sat in front of the television in the conference room at work, his knee bouncing up and down. He was nervous. He had been since the two federal agents left Bayport with Iola. He didn't like it. He didn't want her away from him. He needed to be close to her to protect her, and he wasn't. It was driving him crazy.
Frank slid into the seat next to him. "I was going to ask if you wanted some coffee, but clearly, caffeine is the last thing you need right now."
"This entire situation has me on edge," Joe said. "I should be with her."
"Joe, there's no reason to believe Iola is in any immediate danger," Frank said. "In fact, she may not be in any danger at all. The feds are just trying to be proactive. This is a delicate situation, with international implications."
"Something about this interview bugs me. I feel like they're using Iola. Like this is a set-up."
"They're protecting her, by having her get her story out first," Frank said. "Once the American public knows everything, King Butthead gets himself three hundred million enemies. Everyone is going to be on Iola's side, and that's her protection."
"I wish I could be sure it'll be enough."
Joe wasn't convinced. He needed more information on this king and how he operated. This guy could pull something like he did last time. An operation where the trail led far away from the truth. And that scared the hell out of Joe.
Frank reached for the TV remote control. "It's starting."
Joe felt like he was going to be sick.
OOOoooOOO
Iola willed herself to be calm as Dana introduced her segment. She started by playing news footage from the day of her kidnapping. Iola wasn't able to see any of it, but she caught bits and pieces of the audio, and a chill ran through her.
News crews had already been at the mall that day to cover the rally for Philip Walker's presidential bid, and they'd made it to the scene of the car bomb only minutes after it had happened. She could hear Joe screaming her name, and the agony in his voice tore at her heart. She couldn't help the tears that filled her eyes.
Dana turned to her with a sympathetic look on her face, and said in that reporter voice of faux concern. "That must have been horrific. Can you tell us what you remember about that day?"
Iola related the events of the afternoon, focusing on what happened after the explosion. Her eyes became a little misty when she said, "The worst part was when I was on the airplane, not knowing what was happening, but knowing that my family and friends thought I was dead, and that nobody would come looking for me. I felt very alone."
The next series of questions focused on Iola's life on the island. Iola explained that she lived in virtual isolation, and while she was never harmed or molested, she was a prisoner. She had access to the library, and spent most of her time reading and trying to educate herself to a college level. She had been forced to take classes on courtly behavior, and learned dancing, poise, and other royal necessities.
"It was like charm school. They stopped just short of making me walk around with a book on top of my head to improve my posture." Iola smiled at the absurdity of it all.
When Dana asked if there was anything that brightened her days a bit, Iola spoke of being able to work with the youngest children who attended school in the palace. "I really loved spending time with the toddlers and preschoolers. They always gave me something to feel happy about."
Dana then asked her questions about the king's motives for kidnapping her, showing a graphic of the line in the prophecy that spoke of a violet-eyed virgin becoming the island's queen, and said, "Were you really kidnapped because of your eye color?"
Iola shook her head. "Ridiculous, isn't it?"
"This prophecy was problematic for you right from the start, wasn't it Miss Morton? Because you could only meet half of the requirement," Dana said.
Iola froze for a moment, and then spotted the gleam in the interviewer's eye. Oh, no, she couldn't possibly know.
Could she?
"You had a sexual relationship with your high school boyfriend," Dana continued. "You're not a virgin. Are you, Miss Morton?"
