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in your personal email.”

Celia opened her inbox and looked for Marlene’s message. It was just a link.

Former Journal Editor Arrested for Fraud and Embezzlement.”

“Oh my,” Celia said. “This is interesting.”

“Keep reading,” Marlene replied.

According to the story, John Talbot had been arrested on charges of fraudulent business practices and the embezzlement of almost 100,000 dollars. In addition, he was being investigated for harassment.

“Well, I guess you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Unless you’re one of the complainants?”

“I’m not. I was ready to be if he came back to the restaurant; money be damned. But now I don’t have to.”

“William didn’t say a word about any of this, even when I probed him about things.”

“He probably couldn’t.”

That was true, Celia thought. She did wonder who had filed the harassment charges, but William would probably keep that quiet too. He’d want to protect whoever it was for as long as possible. No wonder Natasha trusted him, she thought, her respect for the man growing.

“Well, I’m glad for your sake that he’s got more on his plate than stalking your restaurant.”

“Me too,” Marlene replied. “I’m getting too fat to outrun him!”

“I doubt that,” Celia laughed.

“I’m serious. I’m having more and more trouble seeing my feet every day. But I love it.”

“Better you than me. But I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Thanks,” Marlene said. “I know you’re in work mode, so I’ll let you get back to it. I just wanted to share.”

Celia hung up the phone and reread the story. It was brief, but she had no doubt the speculations would fly around the office. Maybe she could charm some more details out of William later in the day.

By lunchtime, Celia had gotten her writers back on schedule, reassured her source, and unsuccessfully tried to pry information out of William. He wasn’t sharing, and while it frustrated her, it did give her insight into his character. Again, she thought about how valuable his friendship must have been to Natasha.

At 2:00, Natasha’s attorney called. Celia sighed when she saw the number. “Hello, this is Celia Brockwell.”

“Andrew McMillian here. I wanted to talk with you about Celia’s impending execution. I think we may have to work together to stop this.”

“What is it you’d like to do?”

“I can arrange for you to visit Natasha. This afternoon if necessary. We need to convince her to allow you to publish at least part of her story. If you can paint her in a sympathetic light, maybe it will make a difference to the governor.”

“Have you talked with Natasha about this? What does she want to do?”

Andrew sighed. “I’ve tried more than once. She won’t listen to me. But I think she’d listen to you. For whatever reason, she seems to trust you even more than she trusts her legal team.”

Celia ignored his tone. “So you’re saying she’s made her wishes clear.”

“She has, but she isn’t thinking clearly. She’s so stubborn and...arrogant. I can’t believe she’s willing to die to prove a point.”

It isn’t to prove a point, Celia thought, but she knew her attorney wouldn’t understand. Celia was never going to beg for her life. She was going to be in control of it in whatever way she could be. Keeping her silence had been part of her control.

“I’m sorry, Andrew. If Natasha asks to see me or get my help on this, of course I’ll go. But if she’s clear about this story, I am not going to interfere. To be blunt, I work for her, not you.”

She heard him curse under his breath. “Fine. You two are peas in a pod, you know.”

“Thank you. Now I have work to do.”

Celia cursed too after she hung up. The attorney meant well, but he was also stubborn and arrogant. From the beginning, Tasha had been very clear about the timing and parameters of her story. Even if Celia thought she was crazy, she wasn’t going to do anything except what the actress asked. It wasn’t just because of Natasha’s wishes. Celia knew if she pushed her, Natasha would take the article off the table completely. Not that Celia couldn’t decide to publish it after her death anyway, but it wouldn’t change anything now.

At 6:00, it was time to shut things down and head home. Since Keith had insisted on staying the night again, Celia decided to pick up her favorite pizza on the way home. It was fine for him to stay and be the protector, she thought, but she wasn’t going to let him buy all the dinner.

Julio’s Pizza was Celia’s favorite splurge. It was a great place for deep-dish Chicago-style pizza, and Julio knew her by name. He greeted her warmly when she walked into the restaurant.

“Celia, my love! Vegetarian for you, yes?” He always greeted his patrons with an exaggerated and completely fake accent.

“Not today, Julio. I have a dinner guest, so I’ll have your special.”

“It must be a man guest if you are ordering Italian sausage, pancetta, and pepperoni.”

“Just a friend,” Celia laughed.

They chatted while the pizza was baking, and Julio showed her the latest photos of his daughter and grandchildren. Celia noticed a new photograph of his wife above the wall menu. She had died two years before, and Julio periodically changed the photo, wanting to share all of her beauty, he said. He handed her the large pie and then returned to the kitchen to yell at the staff, most of whom were family members.

It was almost 6:30, and since Julio’s was in the opposite direction of home from the office, it would take Celia over half an hour to reach her house. She zipped around cars and tried to make up a little time by pushing the speed limit. When she crested a hill and saw a backup of traffic, probably due to a rush-hour fender bender, she sighed. The pizza was going to get cold. She took her foot off the accelerator and prepared to stop.

Nothing happened. The car didn’t slow at all. Trying again, Celia pressed the brake pedal harder,

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