"Callahan!"
Instinctively, the young reporter jumped at the sound of her editor's voice as he entered his office. She grabbed a notepad and pen, nearly fell over her chair, and scurried across the room.
"What is it?" she asked at the doorway.
"Sit down." The order wasn't even combined with a gesture, one of Phil Gibbons' most annoying habits, she thought to herself.
"The CFO of Lilt Financial was just indicted. I want you to do this one. It's big, Callahan," Gibbons said emphatically. "Bigger than anything you've done for us. Want it?"
Lindsay Callahan looked up from her notepad, nodding at the same time. "Of course."
Gibbons looked at her as if giving her one more chance to think it over. When she didn't blink, he said, "Have the guys in Business help you if you need it. They should know her."
"Her?"
"Yeah. A babe CFO. No wonder the economy's in the can," he said without a hint of remorse.
Lindsay fought back a chuckle, angered by the aging editor's unrelenting sexism.
"I'll get on it." Almost to the door, she turned and added, "Thanks."
Somehow she knew he'd be watching her. He always watched her. She was used to having men stare at her near-perfect twenty five year old body. But his was a perverted gawking every time they crossed paths.
'Pig,' she mumbled under her breath once outside his office.
Back at her desk, Lindsay allowed the magnitude of her assignment to sink in. In her six months with the paper she'd never been given a story any more interesting than a suspicious house fire. Even that turned out to be nothing more than an overly curious cat who learned the hard way not to chew on electrical wires.
Now she was faced with real news. She'd have to do her homework. Lilt Financial was big in town...real big. She knew that much, but the actual players and inner workings would have to be studied. And she didn't have much time.
Lindsay's first call was to Jim Adams, the paper's beat writer at the court. He'd know the process and maybe the name of somebody who could give her some inside information.
Her presumption was right. In fifteen minutes she had the phone number of the lead investigator in the case and Caroline Hunter's attorney. But first, some research was in order regarding Lilt's Chief Financial Officer.
A quick search of the paper's picture archive resulted in numerous shots of Caroline Hunter. Each one made Lindsay stare even more intently at her computer monitor. Ms. Hunter was one of the most stunning women she'd ever seen.
She stopped at one particular photo which showed the CFO at a crowded formal affair. Caroline stood with a drink in one hand, talking cheerfully to three men in tuxes. Her long gown accentuated every faultless curve of the tall woman's body. Tiny straps drew Lindsay's eyes down to a plunging neckline, highlighting a pair of full, firm breasts that Ms. Hunter obviously had no qualms about displaying.
The midriff of the gown was pulled in to showcase Caroline's flat stomach and tiny waist. Below that, the fabric followed the swerve of her hips and ass, and then flowed to her ankles.
'How old is this woman?' Lindsay asked herself silently.
A second search for stories related to Hunter revealed she was forty one. Botox was the first word that popped into Lindsay's head, but further examination of a dozen pictures of Caroline Hunter convinced her the woman was all natural.
'Bitch. Serves you right,' Lindsay thought, dismayed a little by her sudden jealousy.
Which reminded her that she needed to get moving on the most important matter at hand: What did the gorgeous Caroline Hunter do to raise the ire of the authorities?
The lead investigator basically read from the prosecutor's news release: ten counts; securities fraud and conspiracy; tax evasion; forgery. Ms. Hunter likely did not act alone. The investigation continues. No further comment.
Persistent questioning by Lindsay was met with increased levels of frustration by the investigator until the young reporter chose not to push it any farther, in case she needed this guy later. She thanked him and dialed the attorney for Caroline Hunter.
"My client will be proven innocent of all counts in the indictment," Charles Hood told Lindsay immediately after she introduced herself. "In fact, it's our intention that this case never go to trial. The evidence and testimony used before the grand jury concentrated solely on Ms. Hunter. She was a pawn, manipulated by people at Lilt Financial to conceal their own illegalities."
"Who would that be, Mr. Hood?" Lindsay asked.
"Needless to say, we can't name those names at this time," Charles Hood said with all due solemnity. "But given a chance to respond to these indictments, the truth will be known. And the truth is: Caroline Hunter was USED."
Five additional questions by Lindsay resulted in a dozen variations of the attorney's previous remarks. Sensing a dead-end, she ended the interview.
But Mr. Hood's unrelenting pointing towards others within Lilt Financial forced Lindsay to pull up their web site and, eventually, a copy of an annual report. She got names and titles, but that wasn't what she was after. Lindsay needed to put faces with the names.
She called Julie Wells in Business, an occasional drinking partner with Lindsay and overall straight shooter. A promise from Lindsay to buy two rounds the next time they went out produced an e-mail from Julie containing pictures of every officer and board member at Lilt. It was worth the price, Lindsay decided.
She began to scan the montage, beginning with CEO Charles Oster. Lindsay had already decided she would attempt to talk to him first. When she saw the tall, surprisingly young looking man standing by his desk overlooking the city, her decision was reinforced. In fact, it might now require an in-person interview.
Next was the ever-lovely Caroline Hunter in a glamour shot that would have made any aspiring model proud. Assorted VPs and Directors followed, mostly middle-aged white males except, of course, for the HR and Marketing Directors.
Then the Board of Directors were shown individually and in a group. Nothing about the pictures seemed out of place to Lindsay. None of the names caught her eye: Mark Abel, Barry Black, Nelson Eldridge...a baker's dozen people she knew nothing about...yet.
She sighed, filed the e-mail in the appropriate folder for future reference, and made up her mind to get hold of the boss. Lindsay was amazed that she was put on hold by the secretary in her first attempt to reach Charles Oster. Surely, the secretary would come back and ask if she could take a message. Instead, Lindsay was being transferred to him in less time that it took her to open a diet Mountain Dew.
"Charles Oster."
The booming voice caught Lindsay by surprise. "Hello. Mr. Oster, this is Lindsay Callahan of The Journal. May I ask you a couple questions about the Caroline Hunter indictment today?"
"Certainly," he replied.
Lindsay took a deep breath. "Mr. Oster, what can you tell me about Ms. Hunter?"
Charles Oster smiled to himself. It wasn't the question he expected and appreciated the approach taken by what sounded like a very young reporter. "Well, she'll be missed by this company until the situation is settled. I know very little about the details of the case and can't comment on the specifics, but Caroline was...is...a fine CFO."
"What details DO you know?" Lindsay asked.