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much name his or her own price.
    “That’s about all I was able to come up with. Other than that the man is beyond wealthy. He’s also a big philanthropist. As in big. People, and that means reporters, too, tread lightly around Lincoln Moss. If anyone gets too pushy or too inquisitive, they get a visit from some very important people and are pretty much never heard from again. I want to stress that while they are seen, they are not heard from again. The White House carries a really big stick, and if you’re best buds with the big guy, you got it made in the shade. Plain and simple, Lincoln Moss is off-limits.”
    Nikki laughed out loud. “I think what you meant to say, Charles, is that Lincoln Moss is off-limits to the masses but not to the Vigilantes.” The others hooted with laughter.
    Charles playfully slapped at his forehead. “Whatever was I thinking? That’s exactly what I meant to say.”
    “It’s all right, dear, you were up all night working for us. We understand these little lapses,” Myra said.
    “We’ll be starting out on the plus side. We have the power of the Post behind us. No one can shut us down, not even the leader of the free world no matter if his name is Gabriel Knight or Lincoln Moss.”
    This time the group clapped and hooted their approval.
    “Let’s not forget Jack Sparrow, our friend at the FBI,” Kathryn said.
    “And our gold shields,” Maggie chirped. She rubbed her hands together in glee. “Where and when do we start?”
    “Oh, good Lord!” Pearl bellowed. “Look at this! Dear God, how did this happen?” She held up her phone to show the same picture of Amalie Laurent that Charles had just used in his PowerPoint presentation. “It was on the cover of this week’s edition of that tabloid, In the Know, which came out three days ago. They have a circulation of around 2 million and are front and center at every checkout counter in every grocery store in the nation. I read that somewhere,” Pearl said, panic ringing in her voice.
    Annie let loose with a shrill whistle. The room went silent. “Just because Amalie Laurent’s picture is in the paper doesn’t have to mean anything. When it’s a slow news day, they print my picture. Just to fill up space. I know how that works since I own the Post. Is there an article? What does it say?”
    “I don’t know; 390 just sent the picture.”
    Kathryn’s fist slammed down on the table. “I thought we agreed no more numbers! Who the hell is 390?”
    Pearl flinched as she looked around the table. They all wore the same expressions Kathryn wore. “Audrey Blake is 390. She was one of my first ‘saves.’ She’s my third in command after 389, my second save. Her name is Beverly Hopkins,” Pearl said as she saw Kathryn raise her arm to bring it down on the table again.
    “Don’t just sit there like some ninny, Pearl. Send her a text and ask her to send you the article or have her fax it here. You have the fax number.” Myra looked at Charles, and said, “Give her the number again, dear.” Charles obliged, as Pearl’s nervous fingers tapped out a text.
    Pearl read off the return text that said Audrey had to make a copy of the article, then she would scan it to Charles, who would then put it up on the big screen for them all to see.
    Ten minutes later, they were all looking at the beautiful woman named Amalie Laurent, aka Patricia Olsen. The text was a rehash of her modeling career, her marriage to Lincoln Moss, and her passion for privacy. Then came the clunker in the form of a question as Isabelle put it . Why would one of the most beautiful women in the world want to undergo plastic surgery to change her appearance? If true, who is going to be the next face of La Natural ? Our intrepid reporters here at In the Know want to know.
    The article went on to say that the thousand-dollar monthly bonus and a five-year free subscription to the paper for hot news would go to someone named Jane Petrie, but only when she submitted proof