Nothing But the Truth Read Online Free PDF Page B

time, confirm the information it contains as genuine. Again, obtained illegally, as no one but me should have access.”
    He brushed aside the question of legality as easily as he would a mosquito. “Do you know whose number that is, highlighted in yellow?”
    “No, I don’t. Enlighten me.” If Griffin thought it belonged to Leo Simonetti, he was crazy. But whoever it was, she’d called him or her a lot. She examined the paper more closely. She’d called this person at all hours, too—daytime, evening, weekends, and…at 2:30 a.m.? She never called anyone at that hour. She would have been asleep.
    Had anyone else had access to her phone late at night? No, absolutely not.
    Griffin Benedict’s next words were spoken with relish. “The number belongs to Leo Simonetti,”
    Criminy. She couldn’t panic. Not when the camera was rolling. “Turn the camera off, please.”
    “Why? Did I hit a nerve?”
    She folded her arms and waited. She wouldn’t say another word until he complied with her request, but she wouldn’t run away, either. She would stand here and smile at the dead air he was collecting on his camera.
    Finally, with a sigh, he lowered the camera. The red light went off. “Do you have something to say?”
    “I don’t know who the number belongs to,” she began. “But I have never spoken with Leo Simonetti in my life. Not once.” She took out her BlackBerry. “If I ever called that number, it will be in my call history.” She scrolled through her list of outgoing calls. It went back as far as a week. No sign of the mystery telephone number.
    She handed the phone to Griffin. “Check for yourself.”
    He did. He scrolled through the list, then checked the phone bill again. “This phone bill covers a time period before last week.”
    She pinched the bridge of her nose, then snatched her phone back. “Has it ever occurred to you that your source, whoever it might be, is playing you? That someone is trying to embarrass me, publicly, or worse, and they’re using you to do it?”
    He handed the phone back to her. “I don’t think that’s the case.”
    “So, who’s your source? I have a right to know who is saying these terrible, false things about me.”
    He flashed a disarming smile. “Now, you know a good journalist doesn’t reveal his sources.”
    “Who says you’re a good journalist?” It was a low blow, and though she was fed up with Griffin Benedict and his lying source, she immediately regretted her words. Griffin Benedict might be tenacious, and he might be distractingly sexy, but he appeared to be a good journalist.
    So far.
    “I guess you’re not a fan,” he said, not seeming troubled by the fact.
    “The funny thing is, I am. I mean, I’ve read a few of your articles. Although the stories you pursue are…out there, and your writing style is…irreverent, you don’t strike me as careless or foolhardy. You don’t pander. I would go so far as to say you don’t even go for sensationalism.
    “So why this story? It doesn’t seem your style.”
    “Anything that involves human emotions, human weaknesses, is my style. I’ve found that subjects intriguing to me also draw in my readers. For whatever reason, I find you and your possible ethics violation highly intriguing.”
    “Well, your publisher isn’t going to be so intrigued when the Telegram gets slapped with a libel suit. And don’t start with your ‘public figure’ nonsense.” Public figures had to prove malice in order to win a libel claim—a pretty high standard. “I’m not a public figure. I’m simply doing my job. I have never sought fame or publicity.”
    “Even if you were a public figure, I wouldn’t print anything that wasn’t a provable truth. You have my word on that.”
    His word. As if that counted for anything. She didn’t even know the man. Yet, for some reason, his promise did reassure her slightly.
    Oh, man, where was she going with this? Could a handsome face and a charming smile disarm her to the