A/N Sorry this chapter took so long, but I wanted to get it right. This whole story had turned out a bit more angsty than I had originally intended, ahh well. I would also like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has been following this story. I appreciate the feedback that you have given me, as well as the encouragement. I can only hope that I will continue to write things that make you smile, or make you think, or even make you cry; because that means I'm doing it right.
POE1911
THE LEGACY – CHAPTER 24
After class on Monday, Ruthie and Teressa went to see the realtor about the condo across from McGinty's. The meeting probably would have gone smoother and faster if Ruthie hadn't had ten pages worth of notes that Simon had given her about what to avoid and where to push. In the end she had put in an offer significantly lower than the asking price, but an offer that Simon was convinced the seller would go for. If it had been up to Ruthie she just would have paid the asking price and not bothered with offers and counter-offers at all. 'I guess that's why Simon's in business and I'm not' Ruthie thought. Anyway, she made the offer at one in the afternoon and then the two of them had headed over to McGinty's. The first thing that Ruthie had done was drop the painting that she had done off with Marissa. After letting the blind woman see the painting, she had headed out into the bar to see if anyone needed any help. Ruthie was behind the bar helping Brent, when a very good looking guy stepped up to the bar, "Ruth Camden" he asked.
"In the flesh, what can I do for you?"
"I need some work done, do you have the time?"
Ruthie smiled to herself; one of the benefits of having her work in the Sun-Times was that it brought her name to the attention of a lot of people. This in turn brought people wanting sketch work done to McGinty's looking for her. She charged fifty bucks an image, but the customer always left with the work the same day, so Ruthie didn't feel too bad about the amount she charged. "Sure, what do you need?"
"It's my grandparents' 50th anniversary soon, I was hoping you could do a then and now piece for them.
"Sounds doable; you do realize that for two images in one sketch, that's a hundred dollars?"
"I had heard that."
"Cool, you got the pictures with you, ore am I gonna have to work from your descriptions?"
"No, I've got the pictures right here."
"Alright then, head on over to that booth" Ruthie indicated her favorite spot to work "and I'll be there in a second."
The guy headed over to the booth while Ruthie went to get her materials. She picked up her sketch book and pencils and paused a second. Something wasn't right; she wasn't sure what it was, but something was off kilter with the whole situation. As she thought she realized that the best she could do would be to play along and wait for whatever wasn't right to become evident, and just remain on guard until then. She paused at the bar to pick up an Oberon Ale and headed over to her work both and the cute guy that was there. She sat down and arranged her stuff, took a sip of the beer and then said "alright, let's have the pictures."
The guy handed over the pictures with a grin. One was a very young couple, he was in an army uniform and she was wearing a flower patterned dress. The other showed a much older, but still handsome couple.
"OK, do you want one to blend into the other; have two separate pictures or the two different frames on one background?"
"The last I think, both pictures on the same sheet."
"Easy enough then" Ruthie said as she started. She began chatting with the guy, asking about the couple, trying to figure out who they were. In addition she asked his opinions of them, what he liked about them and what he didn't, things that they had done together, that kind of information. In order to do her best, she had to understand what kind of people the subjects were, because without that knowledge she was just putting charcoal onto paper. Every once in a while, the guy, whose name was Michael, asked her a question as well; what she did, what she liked, slightly personal questions, but not that intrusive.
During a lull in the conversation, Ruthie looked up to see Michael looking a bit nervous, she went back to her sketch and waited for him to get out whatever was on his mind.
After a minute or two of silence, he leaned forward "I imagine you meet a lot of people while working here."
"Sure" she replied, keeping it simple.
"Do you think you could help me find someone?"
"You mean like a potential wife, or something like that?"
"No" he said blushing "I mean like a friend that kind of dropped off the map, I'm not really worried, but I'd feel better just knowing where they were."
"I could possibly help, but you'd have better luck asking Crumb" she pointed to the older man that was now behind the bar. "He's a PI and former cop, so he knows everyone and he knows how to investigate."
"I'm sure he's good" Michael said, turning back to her "but I would want someone a bit more" he hesitated "talented. Like the person that helped my aunt Deb find my cousin when she was lost." He went on to describe a situation that Ruthie was very familiar with.
As he was doing that, she realized that all of this was a set up. He was trying to get her to admit her psychic status, which she would do if she agreed to help this guy. When he finished, she looked up from the sketch "that was mostly luck. I was in the area sketching some Greek revival stuff from the 1800's when your aunt started yelling about her kid. I remembered seeing a kid heading past the stuff I had been sketching, so I went in the same direction and found your cousin crying in an alley. Simple as that, I imagine anyone would have done the same thing."
"I doubt that" he replied "so you just knew where she was?"
"Nope, I remembered the direction she had been going in and went that way, like I said the rest was just luck."
He leaned back with a bit of a skeptical look "Whatever you say, but thanks for helping out."
"Hey, no big deal, like I said I'd bet anyone would have done the same thing."
"Maybe; but they didn't, you did."
"True, so you're welcome; and your sketch is done."
She handed over the paper to Michael and he looked at it with a mixture of admiration and disbelief on his face. "This is fantastic" he finally managed "I can't believe you finished it that quickly."
She blushed a little at the praise then replied "hey, it's what I do. So you gonna go talk to Crumb, I could introduce you?"
"I'm not sure" he replied "but I'll give it some thought." He got up and paid her, and headed out into the late afternoon.
"You gotta do better than that, Aguilera" Ruthie muttered as she put her materials away. She was sure that Michael had been planted on her by the reporter. This told her that for whatever reason, Aguilera couldn't publish her story. Ruthie smiled as she headed back to put her things away, which meant that the story would probably die a quiet death very soon, and then she could get back to her important work. Ruthie put her materials in her personal drawer and stretched, and then she headed behind the bar to see if Crumb needed a hand.
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"Sorry Ags" Michael said "she wasn't buying." The intern handed her the sketch she had paid for and the tape of the conversation and started to walk off.
"Thanks for trying Mike" Janet said "I appreciate the effort."
"No problem J, but why don't you talk to Steve, he's a smart guy and he can help."
"Thanks Mike, I was planning on it" Janet said, grateful for the concern in the guy's eyes. She got up and approached the editor's office, not sure if she should really be doing this or not. Scratch that, she knew she shouldn't be doing this but she couldn't abandon her story, not if there was a way to save it.
She knocked and when he looked up she said "can I talk to you"?
He waved her in and she closed the door. "I've got this story I've come across and I don't know what to do with it" she said.
"Why not" Steve asked "is it a good story?"
"God yes, it's one of those once in a lifetime stories; however, there are some technical problems with it."
"What are they?"
"Well, I don't have complete confirmation, and it's about a girl who I believe to be a genuine psychic."
Steve looked at her for a second "did you say psychic"?
"Yeah, and I know it sounds like something a tabloid would love, but let me show you what I've got." Janet proceeded to show Steve the article as well as all of the collaborative material, the letters and the interviews with the people that had been saved. "But you know how it is" she said finally "something like this is impossible to do without direct confirmation, and she won't give it. In fact she maintains that she isn't a psychic."
"Did she kind of ease around it or did she say it directly?"
"Directly, no doubt about that and she has a plausible excuse for being where she was and when she was."
"So drop it, sounds like she's telling the truth."
"I can't, cause she isn't. I can't prove it directly, but I know it, she's lying and the excuse is just that, a cover story. I don't know how I know this, but I'm as sure of it as anything. So what should I do?"
"Did you ever think of filing it, just do it in the 'pending' section; then you've got five years to collect more data and make the coincidences overwhelming."
Janet thought for a moment, it was her story, she had sweated blood over it, and put everything she had into it, did she want to give up control of it now. But if she did, it would always have her name on the by-line, even if she wasn't here to finish it up. "Sure, can I transfer the file to you, and have you make sure it gets where it needs to be?"
"Sure kid, and hey, I hope it works out for you."
"Thanks Steve, I hope it does too."
She went back to her desk and collected all of her work into one file and transferred it to the Features Editor. She knew that Steve was a stand up guy and would take care of everything for her. Just as she was finishing, a message that Meredith wanted to see her popped up on her terminal. Janet sighed, because she knew this couldn't be good, and turned off her computer and headed up to the Investigative department.
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Meredith had been putting this talk off for a while, hoping she would calm down a bit, unfortunately it had just given her more time to stew and therefore she was just that much more angry. Her fuming was interrupted by a knock on her door; unfortunately the person knocking was the subject of her anger. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she motioned for the girl to come in.
"You wanted to see me" Janet asked.
"Yes, by the end of the day I expect to have a very contrite letter of resignation on my desk, with your name on the top."
"I'm not quitting."
"Janet, either you quit, or I fire you. If I fire you then your job prospects are limited at best; resign and I'll give you a recommendation. That's it, take it or leave it."
"Why, what specifically did I do?"
"You really don't know, do you?"
"If I knew I wouldn't ask, so what was it?"
"You recently tried to extort a confirmation from a Ruth Camden, a girl who was the subject of a story that we had talked about. After that, you tried to trick her into providing confirmation. Do you have the slightest comprehension of who it is you went after?"
"She's a twenty three year old art student from California, not exactly the Mayor or someone important like that."
Meredith just shook her head "you moron, just because it's not a name you recognize doesn't mean it isn't someone who's connected. Is the light starting to dawn now" Meredith asked in a nasty tone of voice. "Allow me to enlighten you, Ruth Camden is one of the finest young artists in the world, a conservative estimate put her work at five hundred grand a painting. That doesn't even touch the fact that the art school wants to hire her after graduation, to be a professor there. Now how do you think they'll react when the new professor tells all her colleagues how she was treated by a reporter from the Sun-Times, do you think they'll co-operate with any of us; not likely."
"So we lose out on stories having to do with art, not a major problem in my book."
"Well if that were all it was, I'd agree, but there's more. She works at a bar called McGinty's. A bar owned by a former city commissioner by the name of Gary Hobson, he wasn't in office long, but he earned a reputation in the short time he was there. I don't have to tell you what politics in this city are like, do I. Hobson is married to a police detective named Toni Brigatti. Now both of these people think of Ruth Camden as a daughter, imagine how they'll react to her story. Then imagine how our reporters will be treated by them because of their hatred for you. I don't even want to speculate on what kind of influence Hobson would bring to bear, but losing connections with the homicide cops would be nearly fatal for the paper. Camden's brother is an up and coming guy in business around here, and do you think he'd be silent about how the Sun-Times roughed up his baby sister; not to mention the guy's wife is a new lawyer, and probably dying to make a quick reputation by burning some un-ethical reporter. Oh, and I almost forgot the bar-tender at McGinty's. He's an ex cop, now PI named Crumb, and if Camden wanted to get you back, he'd do it for free; so you best pray that you don't have any skeletons in your closet, cause he'd dig em up, and the Trib would print em just to burn us. So what it comes down to kid is that you are just too much of a liability for us to keep around. So you can quit, or I fire you right now, what's it gonna be?"
Janet was defeated and knew it; she had no choice what so ever. "You'll have it by the end of the day" she said, and got up.
"Where is this story by the way" Meredith asked.
"I gave it to Steve, and he filed it in the 'pending' section."
Meredith turned ashen for a second, and then regaining her composure said "whatever, now get out of my sight."
There were so many things that Janet wanted to say, apologies for what had happened, thanks for what she had learned, railings against the unfairness of it all; but in the end she said nothing. She just closed the door and walked away.
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Meredith Carson had been through a lot in her life. Some of it was great and some of it was awful, but mostly it had been good. What she had to do now definitely fit into the 'not good' category. She was trying to find the right words and failing when she realized she was already standing outside McGinty's. Steeling herself, she walked in, and almost turned and walked right back out; because the first thing she saw was Ruth Camden dancing around with a huge smile on her face. What had been 'not good' slipped into the realm of 'awful'. Slowly she walked up to the bar "what's with the celebration RC"?
"They accepted my offer, I've got a place to live now."
"That's great, where's it at?"
"Right across the street, in the same building as Mr. Paige."
"Sounds like a winner" Meredith leaned over the bar "could I talk to you alone?"
Ruthie really looked at Meredith now, her face seemed haggard and worn; like she had aged ten years in the last couple of days. "Sure Meredith, how private do you need?"
"As private as we can get."
"How about the guest room; that's about as private as you can get."
"Sounds good" the older woman said with a sigh, then followed Ruthie up to the guest loft.
Ruthie turned and looked at Meredith "so now that we're alone, what's so important?"
"I've got a question first, how far would you go to protect Gary and the paper?"
"As far as I had to" the girl answered immediately and with complete sincerity.
"Even if it hurt you?"
"Even if it hurt me" she replied "what he does is too important."
"OK then, Janet got let go today."
Ruthie brightened "that's a good thing, right?" Then as she watched Meredith's face, her look fell.
"No, it's not a good thing. She was a good kid that made a couple of bad decisions; she doesn't deserve what had to happen."
"Maybe not, but you weren't the one she was threatening. It's tough for me to be objective."
"Understandable, anyway after I told her the situation I asked for all her work, including the story of course."
"And" Ruthie said; she could feel the dread welling up inside her.
"And she had already filed the story with the features department as a pending story."
"What does that mean" Ruthie asked, feeling as though she was standing on a cliff in a high wind.
"That means that if you are associated with anything in the next five years, that the story will be called up and could be referenced."
"So if I help someone in the next five years that could be used as confirmation of the earlier story and then the original could be published if the editors feel that it should be?"
"Exactly, it would mean that even if you just happen to find yourself in a situation like the bank robbery, you would have to stay uninvolved, no matter what. Do you think you could do that?"
Ruthie thought for a moment, really thought about it; "no, I'd have to do something" she said finally.
Meredith's face fell even more; the answer was unfortunate, but not unexpected. "I was afraid you'd say that, but you realize how much damage that could do."
"Yeah, but there's no way I could just stand and watch."
"I know, it's the kind of person you are, and that's not bad; but given the circumstances it's very inconvenient."
Ruthie looked at Meredith for a moment, her mind working a mile a minute; then she came to a realization. "You're telling me I have to leave Chicago, aren't you?"
"Yeah I am Ruth, it's unfair and I know it's devastating to you, but it has to be done."
"Devastating" Ruthie said, her voice almost coming out as a scream "you're telling me I've got to leave my friends, people that have become as close to me as my family, a perfect job, and a place that I love" her voice kept rising in passion and volume "I'd say that devastating is one hell of an understatement. I'll have to lie to my family, and to people who trust me, I'll have to leave people who are depending on me high and dry; I'll have to go back to California and scrape for work again while living in my parents garage; and everything in my life except my family will be ripped from me. Sorry Meredith, you'll have to do a lot better than devastating to describe that." Tears were pouring unnoticed down the young woman's face. "I've found something that gives my life meaning and people that I want to have in my life and now you're telling me that all those things that I love; I'm going to have to walk away from them all." Ruthie looked utterly defeated "that's too much for one person."
Meredith felt crushed under the weight of the girl's grief, and she felt a huge amount of guilt at the part she played in it, but she pressed on "you can't stay kid, you know that."
"Yeah" Ruthie said, almost too quietly to hear "I know that, but I hate it and I hate the circumstances that make it necessary."
"Do you hate her" Meredith asked, she was after all a reporter, and was naturally a very curious person.
"No, I don't hate her, but I'm not gonna run for president of her fan club either" Ruthie said with a watery smile.
"Good, because she's not worth destroying the good person you are" Meredith said with a sigh of relief.
Ruthie stood in the middle of the floor, thinking for a moment, finally she looked up "could you ask Teressa to come up here before you go and tell Gary?"
"Sure" Meredith said to the girl, giving her an encouraging smile "you want anything else sent up?"
"No thanks, just my best friend will do" Ruthie said, the tears still running down her cheeks.
Meredith paused at the door "for what it's worth, I'm sorry it came to this."
"Thanks, but it's no ones fault, not really; just the whims of venomous fate."
Meredith left, and as the door closed, Ruthie collapsed back onto the bed, the tears pouring again. She curled up on the quilt, she wasn't sure how she'd survive this, she really wasn't.
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Janet had written her letter of resignation, and left it on Carson's desk. She looked around the office where she had worked, not really accepting the fact that she'd never be here again. Then something occurred to her, one last thing she needed to do. She sat down at her terminal and searched out everything that there was on Ruth Camden. The reporter sat there and read every article, and it began to dawn on her what exactly had occurred. 'I've killed her' Janet thought; not literally but in every other way that matters, I've killed her. A good person's life was shattered beyond redemption because Janet had let her ambition over-ride her sense of right. She sat back and turned off her terminal for the last time. She wrote out a short note, and left it on Carson's desk, on top of her letter, then without a backwards look, she left the Sun-Times for good.
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Meredith got back to her office emotionally drained. She had never seen Gary as angry as he had been, and Gary hadn't come close to how Toni had reacted. Even Marissa, who was the embodiment of emotional equilibrium, looked ready to put her hand through a wall. Teressa was just too worried about her friend to be angry just yet, but Meredith was sure it would come. Ruth looked catatonic, as though she was completely without emotion. Actually her reaction scared Meredith the most. She had to consider the real possibility that the young woman would just shut down, and the artist that she was would cease to exist. Meredith just hoped Aguilera was smart enough to head out of town tonight, and send for her stuff later. She walked in and immediately saw the Aguilera's letter, and the note. Meredith picked it up, read it and smiled in relief. "Tell her I'll find her and apologize one day, once I'm able to forgive myself" was all the note said, but it was a start.