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chapter fifty-seven

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the situation's always the same
you got your wolves in their clothes whispering hollywood's name
stealing gold from the silver they see
but it's not me
-Sara Bareilles, "City"

xx

2:30 pm

Vivian sat the conference table, pouring over a stack of paperwork that appeared to be bank and phone records when Sam and Naomi reentered the bullpen. Both women carried large cardboard boxes full of photographs and negatives that they got from Mark Roche, Brian's tabloid editor. Sam set her box down on the table with a resounding thud, breaking Viv's concentration and causing her to look up suddenly.

"What's all that?" she asked and motioned towards the boxes.

"Photos, negatives," Naomi explained, setting her box down in a much quieter fashion, "All of Brian's work from the last eight months."

Sam slid the lid off of the first box and continued, "We figured we would bring them back here and organize them based on the degree of scandal; maybe then we can get an idea of anyone who might have had a reason to want to take him down a notch or two."

Vivian nodded and replied, "Did you get anything else from Roche?"

"Not really," Sam shook her head and glanced over the top of the box and to the paperwork Viv was sorting through. "What about you?"

"A couple of cash deposits, but nothing else that jumps out at me."

Naomi slid the second box forward and sat down beside Vivian. "Want to help us sort?"

Viv looked up and smiled conspiratorially and replied, "You bet."

Sam emptied the contents of both boxes onto the conference table, and the three women began to sort through Brian's photographs. Sam felt herself conflicted as she sorted through photo after photo, looking through private moments of other people's lives. In the past, she always found leafing through photos in the tabloids to be a guilty pleasure, secretly enjoying the insider shots of everything from honeymoons to scandals. It somehow made her feel better about her own life that she was not the only dysfunctional person in the world.

But now she had been on the receiving end of the whole machine, and she felt genuinely guilty for having fed into it in the first place. She was by no means a particularly recognizable figure on her own, but the more she was seen with Martin, the more paranoid she felt herself getting if a passerby on the street lingered to look for a split second too long.

Naomi looked up and waved a photo in the air. "Who's got the female nudity pile?" she asked, "I've got Natalie Portman topless."

"You mean the pictures Danny is going to want copies of?" Sam grinned and watched intently as Naomi rolled her eyes. "That would be me."

As she reached across the table to take the photo from Naomi, she noticed that Vivian was entirely distracted by a set of photos that she held close to her chest. Viv frowned, shuffling the photos back and forth, and Sam looked at her curiously.

"Have you got something, Viv?"

Viv looked up and met Sam's eyes almost hesitantly. "Yes and no."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

Viv sighed heavily and laid the photographs out on the table between them. They were slick and glossy, and the fluorescent ceiling lights reflected off of them as Sam leaned forward to take a closer look.

"Sam," Naomi exclaimed breathlessly, "These are pictures of you!"

Sam picked up the photographs and slowly flipped through the series one at a time, aware that both Viv and Naomi were watching her with a curious, intense gaze, waiting for her reaction.

There were over fifteen photos of her and Martin.

Eating dinner together at an outdoor café on a particularly sunny day in the fall.

Running together early on a Saturday morning as had become their custom.

Another as they came to a stop, Sam's leg cramping up on her as it sometimes still did.

The night they got box seats to see Wicked with Caroline, Tim, and some of Martin's friends from college.

Together at the Statewide Democratic Party Dinner in the beginning of January.

Attending a benefit dinner for Breast Cancer research as one of the guests of honor just a few nights later.

She sighed and set the photographs back down on the table. She set her shoulders back resolutely and met Viv and Naomi's gaze, determined not to shy away from this. Whatever 'this' was.

"Are you alright?" Naomi asked, concern for her friend evident in her voice.

"Yeah," she exhaled and set the photographs to one side. "I think I'm going to hang on to these for now." She shuddered inwardly as she remembered the way Mark Roche eyed her when she and Naomi went to interview him, as though he knew something she didn't. Now she understood.

Naomi stood up from the table and said, "I think I'm going to get some coffee. Do either of you want any?"

She waited for Sam and Vivian's affirmative response before retreating to the break room.

Vivian looked across the table with a soft, motherly expression. "You didn't know about those pictures, did you?" she asked.

She shook her head and inhaled sharply. "I had no idea," she replied, holding her arms protectively close to her upper body.

Viv picked up the photographs and held them carefully in her hands. "We're on your side, Samantha. I understand why you want to hide from everyone else, but you don't have to hide from us."

Sam felt her knee jigging up and down nervously. She forcefully steadied it and replied, "I know."

"He seems like a good man," Vivian offered, smiling at her friend. "His heart always seems like it's in the right place."

Sam smiled to herself and relaxed against the back of her chair. "He's got the disposition and the willpower for politics, but he wears his heart on his sleeve. I remind him that he believes too much in the good of every man." Sam raised her eyebrows and made eye contact with Vivian, a scheming smile tugging at her lips. "He tells me that's why he keeps me around, that pessimism is what I'm good for."

Viv smiled and raised her head, "And what do you say to that?"

"I tell him that it's realism, not pessimism, and he's lucky I stick around to keep him in line."

Viv laughed. "You tell him, Sam."

xx

January 25, 2004
4:00 pm

Sam shut the front door behind her and turned the dead bolt before slipping off her navy blue FBI jacket and hanging it in the front closet. She slipped off her shoes and padded softly up the stairwell and into Martin's room, where she found him sitting up in bed, reading over policy files and watching ESPN's Super Bowl preview. He looked up as she entered and put his files to the side, setting them down carefully on his nightstand. He picked up the remote and the sound on the television clicked off.

She gave him a tight smile and lay down on the bed beside him.

"Rough day?" he asked, running his palm along her shoulder. She lifted her head off of the bed and met his eyes before folding her arm underneath her. "What happened when you and Naomi went up to Ashton?"

Sam sighed, swallowing hard as she braced herself. "We found him by Hugo Wyland's vacation cabin," she said. Martin looked at her curiously, and she fought the tears that threatened at the corners of her eyes as she began to explain everything that had happened over the past two days. From finding the photographs of them together to how she connected the mystery woman in the photographs that Eric Larson took to the woman in the Planet Rescue protest, and how that led them to go to Ashton that morning to investigate.

He rubbed her back supportively and listened with rapt attention as she explained what was really going on at the Wyland Industries Plant in Ashton and how 26 children in the neighborhood were being treated for various kinds of cancer because Wyland Industries was dumping untreated waste in the storm drains.

When she finished, she saw the look of shock and abhorrence on Martin's face as he asked if they had already taken Hugo Wyland into custody. His repugnance only multiplied when she recalled the conversation she had with Jack just before she left the office for the afternoon after returning from the hospital.

xx

Sam stopped in her tracks as she watched through the glass windows into Jack's office where Jack was handing Mike Carter a large file folder before shaking hands. Carter left the office and, seeing her chance, stepped forward and rapped softly on Jack's office door before entering.

"He's in surgery now, but they think they're going to be able to save his leg. The orthopedic surgeon... he's a friend of Caroline Fitzgerald's. He promised to give me an update when he got out of surgery, but it looks like he's going to be okay."

"That's good news," Jack nodded solemnly before motioning to the door to the direction that Mike Carter had gone. "He's going to be on Carter's list now, but I don't think he'll mind."

"Not really," she replied. "What's the next step, Jack? Do we bring in Wyland and the foundry now?"

Jack held a pen in his hand and he clicked the top once before declaring, "We move on; the case is closed."

Sam felt her spirits fall, realizing that Wyland must have bought someone off in Washington in order to keep the whole thing under wraps. But after meeting Mrs. Wilson, seeing the direct consequences of Wyland Industries' actions, Sam could not just let it drop. There was nothing that could be done to bring Sean Wilson back or to improve the odds for the 26 other children who were now fighting cancer, but they had to do something to prevent this from happening to anyone else.

"That's it, then?" she said, crossing her arms defensively and holding them close to her chest. "We got the call from Washington so now we're just going to give up?"

"Samantha," he warned. "This is real life, not Erin Brockovich. It's not that easy."

"I never said it would be," she replied icily, feeling suddenly threatened. "But if you're just going to let some petty bureaucrats push you around, then you're not the man I gave you credit for."

She knew that she hit a nerve when Jack visibly flinched and withdrew. He inhaled and set his pen down on the desk and said, "Well, you know people in Washington. Make some calls."

Sam frowned. "Don't make it about that, Jack. This has nothing to do with Martin and everything to do with the fact that Guthrie was right: Wyland is untouchable."

"There's no use on this one, Sam. It is what it is, and nothing is going to change that."

Sam turned and put one hand on the doorknob before turning back to him. "Maybe you're right," she replied, "but that's not going to stop me from trying."

xx

"I want to help," Martin said, sitting up in bed. "I have connections. I can get them to run Brian's pictures on the front page; I can make it an issue that people will care about."

Sam shifted in bed and sat up against the headboard, feeling instantaneously better by his unwavering support. "What do you think we could do about it?"

He sat still for a minute and carefully considered their possible options before replying, "We could go a few different routes. I'll want to consult with my staff to play up the best angles, but first I think it would be helpful if we could figure out who Wyland bought out to keep it quiet."

"That's going to be harder than it sounds," Sam said. "We can't blanket subpoena every politician and lobbyist in Washington."

Martin nodded. "I have a few ideas. When I get back to Washington tomorrow morning, I'll look into it and let you know."

"Do it as fast as you can," she agreed, smiling softly back at him. "I checked the weather reports for Ashton..." she hesitated, breathing deeply as she paused for emphasis, "They're expecting heavy rain next weekend."

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