The Baby Scheme

Alli Gardner had just arrived at her newsroom desk on Thursday morning when she spotted the startling front-page headline. As she sank down and read the story, her feeling of shock shifted to outrage.

The allegation that the recently named mayor of Serene Beach, California, had run backroom gambling tournaments to benefit his computer stores didn’t surprise her. After all, she’d done the research and written the story.

The problem was, it didn’t carry her byline.

She read the first few paragraphs again. Those weren’t only her facts—they were her words. Yet she hadn’t quite finished the exposé the previous night and therefore hadn’t submitted it, although the assistant managing editor had known she was working on it.

The byline belonged to Payne Jacobson, the assistant managing editor’s nephew.

In her five years with the Orange Coast Outlook, Alli had never considered the possibility that someone might raid her computer. That is, not until Payne joined the staff six months ago.

After he’d twice written articles based on her research and quotes, she’d complained to his uncle that he must have found a way to access her computer files. But not only had Ned Jacobson sided with his nephew, he’d hinted that Alli feared competition.

This time, she’d deliberately kept all the notes on her personal laptop to prevent Payne from accessing them through the newspaper’s networked computer system. She’d taken the laptop home at night, too, but she’d left it unattended on her desk several times during the past few days.

The jerk couldn’t have read her files last night. That meant he must have installed spy software.

Alli felt as though steam were pouring out of her ears. If that weasel thought she was going to sit still over this, she had news for him—the kind of news he wouldn’t want to steal.

She flipped open the laptop and typed in “You little thief!” then added a few more colorful insults for good measure. As she saved the file, she glanced across a group of desks to where the twenty-three-year-old sat smirking while typing on his keyboard.

His blond, designer haircut and trendy suit couldn’t offset the thinness of his face or the deceitful cast of his small eyes. Of course, she wasn’t exactly an unbiased observer.

As she waited for his spyware to steal her latest keystrokes, Alli reflected on how hard she’d worked to earn her reporter’s job, while Payne had waltzed into it, courtesy of his connections. After completing journalism school, she’d labored for two years as a writer in a public relations office, then spent three years at a weekly before landing this position against stiff competition.

Even so, she wouldn’t object if Payne were honest and did good work. But his writing—when he did any of his own—had a clunky, amateurish quality despite Ned’s editing. In addition, according to his annoyed interviewees, he often misquoted them. Surely anyone other than a doting relative could tell that he hadn’t written this exposé.

Across the room, she saw Payne’s cheeks flush and his gaze flick toward her. Insult received. She’d proved her point about the spyware.

Beyond him, behind a glass office window, J. J. Morosco stood up and stretched. Despite the early hour, the short, rotund managing editor had been at work for quite a while.

A forty-something go-getter, J.J. had stepped on more than a few toes during his first year at the Orange Coast Outlook. Hired from a newspaper in the San Francisco Bay area, he’d revamped the sports and entertainment sections, turning them into showpieces that the publisher trumpeted in TV ads. The result had been an increase in subscriptions and newsstand sales.

Alli hated to bother him with an intramural quarrel. But how could anyone tolerate having stories stolen? Besides, this act of plagiarism threw the newspaper’s ethical stance into question.

After unfolding her five-foot-nine-inch frame from behind the desk, she marched across the linoleum. Reporters nudged one another and turned to watch, probably expecting a showdown. She’d made no secret of her allegations about Payne.

The sight of her reflection in the glass made Alli pause. Where she’d stuck a pen in her shirt pocket, a telltale spot of ink revealed that she’d forgotten to cap it. The way her skirt had swiveled around her hips didn’t improve her appearance, either.

What a mess, and at only nine o’clock in the morning. She lacked the patience to repair to the ladies’ room, however, especially since she could do nothing about the inkblot.

After hiking her skirt into place, Alli realized she’d done so in full view of the managing editor. With a sigh, she resumed her approach. She couldn’t back down now.

When she stepped into his office, J.J. rose out of courtesy. Noticing that she loomed over him, she quickly found a chair.

“I’m here about the story in this morning’s paper,” she said. “The one concerning Mayor LeMott.”

“Ned tells me you were working on something similar.” J.J. eased into his seat. “He says Payne warned him you might have a complaint.”

“It wasn’t similar. This is my story,” Alli told him. “Word for word.”

“But you hadn’t filed it yet.”

“I’d written it, but I was holding off so I could double-check a couple of points,” she explained. “And there’s a side-bar I didn’t have time to complete. Mr. Morosco, Payne’s planted spyware in my laptop. He stole every bit of that piece from me.”

The editor’s forehead wrinkled. He’d been putting in such long hours that he’d begun to lose his tan and had gained a few pounds, she noted.

“The two of you have never gotten along, have you? He’d only been here a month when you accused him of stealing your notebook.”

“It disappeared from my desk right after he passed by, and the next day he turned in a story based on my research!”

“A guard found your notebook outside that afternoon, right next to where you usually park,” the M.E. replied.

“I didn’t drop it. I’m not that careless.” Alli hated being put on the defensive. “Look, you can talk to any of the people I quoted in today’s story and they’ll confirm who did the reporting.”

“Except that most of your sources spoke anonymously,” he pointed out.

“I was going to identify them to Ned when I handed in the piece!” That was standard procedure. “Also, since when does this paper assign two people to the same story?”

She’d heard of a few big papers that ran their operations in such a cutthroat manner, but the Outlook couldn’t afford such a waste of staff time. Besides, that kind of competition did horrible things to morale.

“He says Payne asked if he could pursue the same subject. He decided to let the kid show what he could do, and he beat you to the punch.”

How could she win when the assistant managing editor was stabbing her in the back? If she were in J.J.’s seat, she probably wouldn’t believe her accusation, either.

“Give Payne his own assignment, something he can’t steal from anyone else,” she said. “He’ll blow it.”

“As it happens, he’s going to have plenty of chances.” J.J. fiddled with some papers. “I’m sure you’re aware that I’ve streamlined two other sections. In the meantime, the publisher and Ned and I have been tossing around ideas for the news operation. I’m about to put those proposals into effect.”

Why was he telling her this? Allie wondered uneasily. And why was he avoiding her gaze?

“The publisher believes we’ve got too much duplication and dead wood,” he went on. “Some of the older staff members will be asked to take early retirement, but I’ll have to cut deeper. After careful consideration, I’m afraid we have to let you go.”

“What?” Alli stared at him in disbelief.

Until six months ago, she’d been one of the Outlook’s stars, a feat she’d accomplished through hard work, drive and an instinct for news. Despite her abilities, she knew as well as anyone how few jobs opened up in the newspaper business. Being laid off might mean banishment from the career she loved.

“I was going to wait a few more days, but this seems as good a time as any,” J.J. said. “It’s best if you clean out your desk and leave immediately. Naturally, you’ll be eligible for unemployment, and we’ll give you two weeks’ severance pay.”

“You can’t—” She stopped. Of course he could lay her off if he wanted to. But it was so unreasonable! “Was this your idea, the publisher’s or Ned’s?”

Ignoring the question, he began to talk about issuing her last paycheck. Alli didn’t ask again because she was too busy trying to absorb the awful news that she’d just been fired.

A minute later, when she emerged into the newsroom, a hush fell over the place. Even through the glass, people must have realized what was happening. Payne buried his face inside that day’s paper.

Alli ignored him. Obnoxious as he was, he’d never have gotten away with this thievery if his uncle hadn’t condoned it.

She walked over to Ned Jacobson. Swiveling in his computer chair, he peered at her from beneath a shock of graying hair.