All Night Long

out from behind the palm, notebook in hand. “Follow me.”
    “The two scariest words in the English language,” Luke said dryly.
    She paid no attention. She concentrated on forging a path through the crowd.
    Ryland Webb was surrounded by a group of well-wishers and potential contributors, but his height made it possible t eep him in view.
    Alexa Douglass spotted Irene first. Surprise and then a frown of alarm flashed across her face. She suppressed both reactions quickly beneath a polite smile and then whispered something to Ryland.
    His head swiveled as he searched the crowd. When he saw Irene and her companions, he spok rgently to his new aide.
    The short man hurried forward, obviously intent on intercepting her.
    “Miss Stenson?” The aide planted himself directly in front of her. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to as ou to leave.” He glanced at Luke, Adeline and Duncan. “You and your friends.”
    “I have some questions for the senator,” Irene said.
    “He’s not giving interviews tonight. He’s entertaining his guests.”
    “Tell Senator Webb that I am in possession of a video that was recently shot on location in Europe,”
    Irene said. “Make it clear that the story about that particular junket and several others to the same destination is set to appear in tomorrow’s edition of the
Glaston Cove
[_Beacon. _] Ask him if he woul are to comment.”
    The aide’s face creased with bewilderment. He glanced back over his shoulder at Webb, who ha urned his back on the small group.
    “Better not make this decision on your own, son,” Adeline advised the aide. “This is big.”

    The short man dithered briefly
    “Wait here,” he said.
    He spun around and worked his way back through the throng to where Ryland stood surrounded by people. Irene watched him deliver the message in low-voiced tones.
    Ryland jerked as though he had been tapped by a cattle prod. He turned slowly to look at Irene. Sh ad to hand it to him, she thought, his expression was well schooled, giving nothing away But she could see raw fury burning in his eyes.
    “If looks could kill,” Adeline murmured, “I think we’d all be smoking cinders about now.”
    “Oh, man, he looks pissed, all right.” Duncan sounded remarkably cheerful. He took aim with a video camera. “This’ll be great for the online site.”
    Ryland said something to the aide and to Alexa. Then he started toward Irene.
    “Showtime,” Irene said softly. She stepped forward to meet him, raising her voice.
    “Senator Webb,
    what can you tell us about your last trip to Europe?”
    “Not here.” Ryland glared at Luke, Adeline and Duncan. He angled his head toward a hallway. “I’l peak to you all in private.”
    He moved off through the crowd, not waiting for an answer. Irene followed quickly, aware that th thers were close behind her. She checked the recorder clipped to her shoulder bag one last time.
    Duncan selected another camera.
    Ryland strode swiftly down a hall and turned into a small conference room. Irene, Luke, Adeline and Duncan trooped in behind him. He slammed the door shut and whirled to confront Irene.
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded in a voice that vibrated with rage.
    “Senator Webb, the
Glaston Cove Beacon
is in possession of some computer files containing evidence and videos that appear to show you in the act of raping an underage girl in a European brothel,” Irene said. “Do you have a comment?”

    “You stupid bitch, how dare you suggest anything of the kind? I’ve never raped anyone in my life.” Ryland turned a dark shade of red. “If you’ve got film, I guarantee you, it’s fake. If you go public wit t, I will see that you and your damned newspaper are ruined. Do you hear me? I’ll destroy you.” He looked at the others. “All of you.”
    Irene nodded at Luke. “Show him what we’ve got.”
    Luke set the computer on a table, raised the lid and powered up the machine. Ryland watched with an expression of gathering horror.
    “You can’t do this,” he said. “Do you realize who you’re dealing with? I can make your lives iving hell.”
    Adeline gave him a sunny smile. “I love threats. They make great quotes. Is that recorder working, Irene?”
    “Yes, boss.”
    Ryland stared, face working, at the little device clipped to Irene’s shoulder bag.
    “Stop it. Stop it right now.”
    “My paper is also in possession of a video recording made by your daughter, Pamela,” Irene