Page 31 of Silent Watch
"Don't be.She was right."He looked down at his hands.They were shaking now, fine tremors he couldn't control."I was destroying myself.I couldn't let it go.Couldn't accept that everything I'd built for thirty-five years was just—gone.Like it never mattered."
His voice broke.He turned his face toward the window and went quiet.His shoulders rose once, twice.Harper watched him fight for control, and she kept still, and she breathed, and she waited.
When he turned back to her, his eyes were wet, but his voice was steady.
"I haven't talked about this in a long time," he said."Most people don't want to hear it.They want the quick version—paper went under, sad story, moving on.They don't want to know what it actually costs."
"I want to know."
He looked at her for a long moment.Whatever test she was being given, she must have passed it, because something in his posture loosened.
"Do you know who was behind it?"she asked."Not the shell companies.The person."
"I have suspicions.Nothing I can prove."He met her eyes."Douglas Sattler was one of the names in my story.Big real estate developer.Very connected.A week after I published, he came to see me.Sat right where you're sitting now."
"What did he say?"
"He said I was a good journalist.Said the community was lucky to have someone like me.Said it would be a shame if something happened to the paper."Marsh's hands curled into fists on the armrests."Never threatened me directly.Never raised his voice.Just smiled and talked about what a nice town this was and how important it was to keep things peaceful."
"And two weeks later, everything fell apart."
"Like clockwork."
Harper set down her coffee.
"Edward.Did you ever hear the name Harrison Montgomery in connection with any of this?"
His hands went still on the armrests.The trembling stopped cold.
"Montgomery owns a lighting company.Donates to half the charities in the state.Why would he be connected?"
"I don't know yet.That's what I'm trying to find out."
Marsh was quiet for a long moment.
"I saw him once," he said slowly."Montgomery.At a Chamber of Commerce dinner, about six months after my paper died.He was sitting with Sattler.Laughing about something.Old friends, you could tell.Comfortable with each other."
"Did you talk to him?"
"I tried.Introduced myself, mentioned I used to runThe Herald.He looked right through me like I wasn't there."Marsh's voice went flat."Sattler saw me approach.Put his hand on Montgomery's arm.Just a touch.And Montgomery walked away without another word."
Harper filed that away.Montgomery and Sattler.Connected.Coordinated.
"Thank you," she said."For talking to me."
"Why are you really here?"Marsh leaned forward."You're not writing a book.Or if you are, that's not all you're doing."
Harper considered lying.
"I'm a journalist," she said."Like you.And I'm investigating the same people who destroyed your paper."
Marsh stared at her.
"Then be careful," he said quietly."Be very careful.Because they don't just take your paper.They take everything.Your reputation.Your savings.Your marriage.Your will to fight."He looked down at his hands."I used to write every day.Couldn't imagine not writing.Now I can't remember the last time I opened a notebook."
Harper looked at this man—his dusty awards, his shaking hands, his empty desk three miles away—and saw her own reflection.Not who she was.Who she could become, if the people hunting her won.
"I'm sorry," she said."For what they did to you."
