Talk Is Never Cheap

A reporter gets his dream interview

"Does a snowball have a chance in hell?" retorted Manny.

Wes rolled his eyes. "You gotta admit, there's a remote chance, at least, that he'll take the interview."

Manny snorted. "From what I hear, Delarosa's been so tight-lipped, you couldn't fill one single column-inch if you sit with him for half a day!"

Wes looked around and leaned in close. "Guilford said whoever got him to talk would get a promotion. I know you're already sitting pretty, Manny, but I need this!"

Manny's eyes narrowed, and he nodded, looking around. He wrote on the back of a thickly stuffed envelope. He leaned in and murmured quietly, surreptitiously handing Wes the envelope. "Here. I was gonna go for it myself, but you go ahead talk to this guy. Give this to him; he can pull strings to get you in..."

Wes took the paper with slick aplomb—reporters get used to slipping info back and forth under the radar pretty quick.

That evening, Wes looked around as he stood outside Martini's. At five o'clock sharp, a man in a tan suit coat ambled up to him. Wes looked around and held the envelope out to the man. Instead of taking it, the man quickly grabbed Wes's wrist, spinning him around and pinning him against the wall.

"Wes Leyland, you are under arrest for trafficking fentanyl pills with intent to distribute. You have the right to remain silent..." Manny had set him up!

@-----@-----@

"At least it was a quick trial," Wes told the fellow from cell 3B44. The man chuckled.

"Wanna know how it went down at my trial?"

"Sure," Wes replied, trying to suppress a smile.

Manny had gotten him what he wanted after all. He was having as long an interview as he wanted with Esposen Delarosa.

NOTES: ▼

Word Count: 298
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the words remote, hear, and collumn