The video Josh sent me was more damning than I could have hoped. On my phone screen, Fiona and Adrian Thorne stood in what looked like a basement parking garage, their faces illuminated by the harsh fluorescent lights overhead.
"No one will ever know it was me," Adrian was saying, his voice smug. "The whole thing was seamless."
Fiona nodded, brushing her perfectly manicured hand through her hair. "As long as you keep your mouth shut about our arrangement. I've held up my end."
Then the camera jostled. Fiona's head whipped toward the movement.
"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice sharp with panic.
The footage captured Josh backing away as Fiona advanced toward him, her expression morphing from shock to fury.
"Delete that right now!" she hissed.
"I'm a journalist. This is public property," Josh's voice came from behind the camera.
"I don't care who you are. Delete it or I'll make you regret it."
