A Meeting In The Ladies' Room by Anita Doreen Diggs

as possible. That means you should buy and sell books, talk to your colleagues about anything except this case, and try not to look anxious. Okay?”
    â€œThat detective may have put all kinds of strange thoughts in Craig’s head. What if he says something terrible like ‘Jackie, why did you kill my wife?’ ”
    Keith’s voice turned hard. “Did you hear what you just said on a company phone that may be tapped? Just for the record, did you kill Craig Murray’s wife?”
    â€œNo, I did not.”
    â€œThen I suggest that you hunker down and do what Welburn Books is paying you to do.”
    I felt utterly stupid. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œNo problem. I’ll see you in about half an hour.”
    There was a click and Keith Williams was gone.
    Even though I was a nervous wreck, I still needed to settle the cover feud. Normally, editors do not have any control over what their author’s cover will look like, but due to Annabelle’s insistence, Helen, the art director, had to get my approval on the covers that were aimed at African-American readers. When I saw the direction that the artists were taking for Willow Van Silver’s latest romance novel, I hit the roof. It was one of those cartoony-looking covers with the usual screaming primary colors.
    I took the cover with me down to Helen’s office and knocked on her door. She looked up and gave me a faint smile which turned to a Thin Pink Line when she caught sight of the sketch in my hand.
    â€œGood morning, Jackie.”
    â€œHello,” I answered pleasantly. “May I sit down?”
    She nodded at the empty guest chair and I sat.
    â€œIs there a problem, Jackie?”
    Helen knew goddamned well there was a problem. She’d had her assistant deliver the cover to my office and I had refused to sign off on it.
    â€œActually, there is. Perhaps we can work out a solution together.”
    She didn’t want me to take this conciliatory approach. What she wanted was for me to flat-out accuse her of not understanding the audience that the cover was meant to reach so that she could go screaming to Leigh that I was “too sensitive” about racial issues. We’d been down this road many times and I had no intention of falling into that trap today.
    â€œWhat do you think the cover needs?” she inquired through gritted teeth.
    â€œWell,” I answered pleasantly, “perhaps you could tone down this screaming red, put some faces on the characters instead of blanking them out . . . better yet, you could hire real people to pose for it.”
    â€œAnything else?” she snapped.
    â€œYes. Do you think it is appropriate that both the man and woman are doing a jitterbug with their butts arched high in the air? I mean, the book is about a teacher and the handsome pediatrician who has come into her life. They aren’t dancers.”
    Helen leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. “Why must you and I go through this with just about every cover that is created for your books?”
    This was my cue to say something that she could twist around to make me sound like an unreasonable militant.
    I stood up and gazed at her with a sympathetic expression on my face. “Why, Helen, I didn’t realize you felt that way. Let’s go to lunch real soon and I’ll be happy to listen to all your concerns and ideas. All right?”
    She just stared at me—all angry eyes and red cheeks set above the Thin Pink Line—and said nothing.
    I slammed her door on my way out.

16
    REPRIEVE
    T here was a flurry of excitement in the hallways when Keith arrived. People stared, waved, smiled, and more than a few women preened in his direction. I led him into Leigh’s office.
    Craig greeted me like a long-lost friend. He seemed to have aged in the last two weeks. He stood up like a gentleman, shook Keith’s hand, gave me a chest-crushing hug, and kissed me on the cheek when I