The Templar Reprisals (The Best Thrillers Book 3) by James Best (free ebook reader for ipad .TXT) 📗

“This is not about the attack,” Tiller said. “We’re here to figure out how the university handles the aftermath.”

“What aftermath?” Baldwin asked.

“We’ve received over a hundred emails and phone calls from the media asking for an interview. They want your name.” She shook her head. “I don’t have the time or staff for this.”

Out of the blue, Baldwin asked, “Are you going to make introductions?”

“We haven’t settled on whether your husband remains.” She turned toward Evarts. “I’m sorry, Greg, but we need to deal with some sensitive subjects. If you would just—”

“What sensitive subjects?” Baldwin demanded.

Tiller appeared nonplussed. She was not used to being questioned. “Patricia, I’m sure you’re aware that we have hundreds of Muslim students, plus dozens of Muslim faculty and staff. This could ignite … well, let us just say uncomfortable conversations. You see that, don’t you?”

Baldwin sat and crossed her arms. “No. You’ll need to explain it to me.”

Mr. Horn Rims Glasses broke in. “Ms. Baldwin, if I may, the Muslim—”

“Excuse me, who are you?” Baldwin asked.

Tiller answered. “This is Mr. Glass. He’s here to help us craft our messaging.”

“Here from where?” Baldwin asked.

Glass looked at Tiller, “If I may?” After an affirmative nod, Glass addressed Baldwin and Evarts. “I’m with a public relations agency that specializes in Muslim issues. I’ve been retained by the university to mitigate the fallout from this unfortunate incident.”

Baldwin bristled. “The unfortunate incident that left nineteen dead and another thirty-one seriously injured? That unfortunate incident?”

“I know how you feel,” Glass said. “That kind of experience can be traumatic.” When she started to object, he added quickly, “You’re right, of course, the attack was dreadful. But we certainly don’t want to make matters worse by stoking religious biases on campus.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Baldwin said. “You think I’ve never been in front of a microphone before. You’re afraid I’ll say something impolitic?”

“No, no, that’s not our fear, Patricia,” Tiller said. “In fact, we don’t want you in front of any microphone at all. The university will issue a carefully crafted press release. A bare bones narrative. That’s it. No interviews … and as a matter of policy, we won’t disclose your name, department, sex, or ethnicity.”

“Then why don’t you just do it?” Evarts interjected. “Why do you need us? We don’t need to contribute to your carefully crafted messaging. That’s what Mr. Glass is for.”

“We don’t need both of you,” Tiller said irritably. “Greg, you have serious responsibilities. There’s no need to pull you away from civic center. You’re free to go.”

Both Baldwin and Evarts stood to leave.

“Patricia, dear, we need you to stay,” Tiller said.

“My husband was with me on the bridge, and he will be with me during the aftermath, as you call it. You can have both of us or neither of us.” She paused dramatically. “Your choice.”

Exasperated, Tiller said, “Sit back down … you too Greg.”

They did.

“Now, I’m going to allow Mr. Glass to lead the discussion. This is his area of expertise, not mine.”

With no objection, Glass opened with, “Thank you. Let’s start at the beginning. Why were you in Paris?”

“What difference does that make?” Baldwin asked.

“It’s important that we understand everything so that when we issue a statement, it can’t be debunked by an outside party. You may—”

“What outside party?” Evarts asked.

Glass appeared surprised at the question. “Any outside party.”

“Who would want to debunk a milquetoast press release?” Evarts asked.

Tiller nervously tapped her finger on the tabletop. “Excuse me Greg, this is the reason I didn’t invite you to this meeting. You’re a cop, not a public relations expert. You naturally ask awkward questions. Please allow Mr. Glass to do his job.”

Ignoring Tiller, Evarts directed another question at Glass, “Have you read the newspaper accounts of the attack?”

“Of course.” He looked smug. “I prepare for assignments.”

“Then you know as much as any outside party. I see no reason to rehash events. Use newspaper clippings.”

“You’d be surprised, Mr. Evarts, how some little detail can add interest and believability to an otherwise dull press release.”

“This is a French national security issue.” Evarts gave Glass a direct look. “The French don’t want details reported that they haven’t already made public. I’m sure you know how it is … after all, you’re in public relations.”

“Don’t worry, I’m aware of the security issues. I won’t reveal anything sensitive. I’ll be listening for personal interest aspects that I can weave into the story. We need something new and enticing to satisfy the news people.”

“That doesn’t smell right,” Evarts said. “I thought you were going to issue a wham, bam, thank you ma’am press release. No details. Now you want to tell a story?”

“You need to understand, if we’re not going to give them your wife’s name, then we need to give them something else, something new that can carry the story. That’s why I want to hear an account from your wife mouth. I won’t know what will work until I hear it.”

“So, you want a complete debrief, and you expect us to believe that this is for a perfunctory press release?” He used his hard ass cop mien. “Who do you really work for?”

“I work for Baylor & Company. We’re a premiere—”

Tiller interrupted, “Mr. Glass’ credentials are not in question here. Greg, he’s been engaged by the university, not you. This is beyond rude. Please restrain yourself or I’ll call campus security.”

Baldwin jumped into the conversation. “Greg, give it a rest. Please.” When he shrugged, she asked, “Mr. Glass, we want to cooperate. Please explain. How much detail do you want?”

He smiled. “Everything. Describe the reason for your trip, how you came to be on the bridge at that moment, what happened on the bridge, how you escaped, and then tell us everything about your interaction with the French police. I’ll never know what might be useful until I hear it.”

Baldwin gave Evarts an exasperated look. “Oh hell, he’s all yours, dear.”

Evarts smiled and leaned toward Glass. “You’re asking for a full debrief.