Murdered by News

by Dianne Harman

  “To… to me?” Kat said in a surprised tone of voice. That was the last thing she’d expected. Then she remembered the whole incident with the Judge and wondered if Ashlee was somehow going to try and pin Chance’s murder on Kat. One thing was for sure, Kat certainly had not expected to come to the Nelson home this morning to be accused of being a killer. It was probably nothing like that. Besides, she was sure Lacie would have given her a heads up if that had been the case.

  Just as all of those thoughts were going through Kat’s mind, she heard footsteps in the hallway, and turned to see Ashlee trudging her way into the kitchen. She looked twenty years older than the last time Kat seen her on TV, which was only a week ago. Her shoulders were slumped, her clothes were dirty, and her makeup from the previous day had dried up and smudged, giving her the look of a wax museum figure.

  “Hello, Ashlee,” Kat said, trying to sound neutral. With considerable difficulty she tried her best to hide her shock at Ashlee’s appearance. She wondered what Ashlee wanted to talk to her about.

  “Thank you for coming over,” Ashlee said quietly, then she grabbed onto the kitchen island as if she was going to topple over.

  “Come, drink your coffee, and sit down,” Tyler said to her. He placed the coffee cups out on the island, then hovered around next to her as she struggled to sit on one of the kitchen stools.

  “I’m fine, Tyler, I really am,” she said.

  Tyler sat on the stool next to her and sipped on his coffee.

  He was so tired he hadn’t even asked Kat if she wanted cream or sugar, and Lacie was so tired, she hadn’t either. Kat generally didn’t drink dark black, unsweetened coffee, but this clearly wasn’t the time to ask for cream and sugar. She took a few small sips and looked expectantly at Ashlee.

  Ashlee looked back at Kat and despite all her unkemptness, there was a spark in her ice blue eyes. “I know I’m not one of the police forces’ favorite people,” she said. “I’ve done a lot of stories about them and all of them were unfavorable attacks on the police department.”

  “Hmm,” Kat said, thinking that with the exception of Chance, Ashlee was probably not anyone’s favorite person, and now she didn’t even have him.

  “But… well…” Ashlee paused. It was the first time Kat had ever seen her sound uncertain or hesitant. “Here’s the thing, I don’t think they’ll be proactive in the investigation of my husband’s murder. They may even try to pin it on me.” Her eyes fluttered down uncomfortably. Kat knew Ashlee was thinking about the times she had pinned things on other people.

  “And… well, Tyler told me what Lacie had told him about you. You know, that you’ve… solved murders, and things. So…” Ashlee took a deep breath, then looked Kat straight in the eye. “I want you to solve the case. I want you to find out who killed Chance and bring that person to justice.”

  Kat rocked back a little on her stool, stunned. She didn’t know what to say.

  “Money’s not an issue,” Ashlee said. “I’ll pay you, and I’ll pay you well. No amount is too much for my Chance.” Her voice caught in her throat in a little sob, then she swallowed it down. “So, what do you say?”

  Kat looked down into her coffee cup, her head reeling. She’d never expected to be pulled into the center of this tragic situation. Certainly, she felt for what Ashlee was going through. But, as much as she didn’t like to admit it, she was having a hard time letting go of how she’d felt about Ashlee after she’d practically accused Blaine of murdering Judge Dickerson.

  It especially unnerved her when Ashlee’s looked at her with those piercing blue eyes of hers. There was something so intrusive and penetrating about her look of defiance that all Kat wanted to do was get as far away from her as she could. She wanted to shout angry words at her for everything she had put Kat and Blaine through with her false accusations.

  But she didn’t.

  “I’ll think about it,” Kat said.

  “I don’t have time for you to think about it,” Ashlee said, her voice tinged with desperation. “I need to find out who did it, and fast. Please, will you help me? I have nowhere else to turn.”

  Kat was beginning to feel claustrophobic. “I do need to think about it. I’ll let you know what I decide within the hour,” Kat said. She drained the last of her coffee, hurriedly hugged Lacie and Tyler, and left.

  She took a deep breath as soon as she stepped outside the house and felt the claustrophobic feeling begin to lift. Being out in the open air felt fantastic. After she drove a block down the street, she pulled over to the curb, and called Blaine.

  “Hi sweetheart,” he said, picking up on the first ring. “Is everything okay?”

  Kat explained what Ashlee had asked of her. “I’m really conflicted, Blaine. I don’t know what to do.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Blaine said. “But you might want to consider this. Tyler may very well end up as your son-in-law. If you don’t agree to help Ashlee, it could easily get your relationship with him started on the wrong foot. It could also hurt your relationship with Lacie.”

  “That’s true,” Kat said, biting her lip. “But I’m still furious with Ashlee, especially after what she said about you. Helping her out would make me feel disloyal to you.”

  “Honey,” Blaine said gently. “This is much bigger than that incident. It’s bigger than Ashlee. I understand your reluctance completely, but you need to think of Tyler and Lacie. You also might want to think about getting justice, justice for Chance.”

  “Blaine, I feel like I’m between a rock and a hard place,” Kat said. Neither option seemed the least bit attractive to her. The very idea that she’d be working for Ashlee Nelson, the one woman in the world she liked the least, and who had falsely accused her husband of murder, was totally repugnant to her. And the thought of disappointing her daughter and potential son-in-law was equally bad. “The last thing in the world I want to do is have anything to do with that woman. But…”

  “But?” Blaine said in a gentle tone.

  “But I can’t help thinking about what Tyler said, you know, about Chance being like a father to him.”

  “Yes,” said Blaine. “Kat, I think you need to put your personal feelings aside. Lacie needs you, and I think Tyler needs you.”

  “You’re right,” Kat said. She let out a long breath. “It’s not going to be easy, though.”

  “No, it won’t,” Blaine agreed. “But I want you to know something. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  “Thanks, Blaine,” Kat said, warmth filling her heart. “I know you will. I’d better go and let them know.”

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll see you later on, Sexy Cissy.”

  She mustered a smile from somewhere deep in her. “Later, Mr. District Attorney.”

  Within minutes, she was back at the Nelson home, standing in the kitchen, facing three disheveled, desperate looking people. “All right,” she said. “I can’t make any promises. But I’ll see what I can do.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  When Kat returned to the Nelson residence to tell Ashlee she’d help find Chance’s murderer, she found Ashlee nursing her second cup of coffee at the kitchen island. When Kat told her of her decision, Ashlee nodded and in a rather business-like fashion said, “Good. I was sure you’d help me. I hope you’ll start right away. I can pay you weekly, if you’d prefer.” Her earlier desperation appeared to have disappeared, replaced by a smug assurance that irritated Kat and made her question her own willingness to help.

  Kat was rather taken aback for all of a nanosecond until she remembered who she was dealing with. This was Ashlee Nelson, the cutthroat news queen. What had Kat been expecting? “All right, I’ll send you an invoice at the end of the week. First, I’m going to have to ask you a lot of questions, some of which may not be too pleasant.”

  “I’m ready. Let’s do it,” Ashlee said. “We can go in the living room.”

  “That would be fine,” Kat said.

  “Would you like some more coffee?” T
yler asked.

  “I sure would, Tyler, thank you,” Kat said. “I hate to ask this, but if you have cream and sugar, I’d like one with those in it.”

  “Coming right up,” Lacie said.

  Ashlee was already on her feet, and walked confidently into the living room, her back straight and her shoulders back. She was already becoming more like her former self, with her trademark boldness and sharp spiritedness on display.

  When she was away from her computer, Kat always carried a pen and paper in her purse in case she had an idea pop into her head for one of her sizzling romance or cozy mystery books. She took out the pen and paper and sat down on one of the silver velvet couches.

  Ashlee sat in the adjoining one and leaned forward in her seat. “Shoot,” she said.

  It seemed like everything had stepped up a notch. Ashlee had clearly had a surge of energy, and Kat had to keep up. “Ashlee, can you think of any enemies Chance might have had?”

  “No, everyone loved him,” Ashlee said defensively. “He didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He was the president of his fraternity when we met in college.” She had a slightly frenzied look in her eye and shot Kat a stare of such intensity that Kat squirmed in her seat. “He was always at the top of whatever he did, just like me.”

  She smiled, turning away from Kat with a faraway look in her eyes. “You know, he was just elected president of the Kansas Newspaper Owners Association. In fact, he was the first president of the association, since the organization is just starting. He was like that. People trusted him. People adored him.”

  “Okay.” Kat made a note about the Kansas Newspaper Owners Association. Then her mind tracked back to what Blaine had told her, that the chief of police had said Chance was receiving threatening calls. “So no one had ever… made it clear they disliked him?”

  “No… Oh!” Ashlee checked herself. “Yes. He’d mentioned some threatening calls he was getting. But that was at the newspaper office. It was probably some nut job jealous of him because the paper had won the Pulitzer. He was pretty sure it was nothing more than that.” She shrugged. “He’d told me if someone really had a personal grudge against him, then the person would have probably been from around here and would have called his cell phone or the number here at the house. But they didn’t. He just laughed it off.”

  Kat tapped her pen on her notebook. “Do you think it might have been something more? Something connected to…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word for the moment. Murder. “…I mean, to all of this?”

  “Maybe.” Ashlee’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, and one more thing. Chance said some guy called… Mike? Mack? Rick? Mickey! That’s right, his name is Mickey. He’s the owner of the Topeka Tribune. He was angry his paper didn’t win the Pulitzer instead of Chance’s. Mickey told Chance he’d get even with him.”

  “Okay,” Kat said. She began to write all of it down, wondering about Mickey. Could he have been connected to the mysterious calls? But if he had been, why had he called Chance personally and told him he’d get even? And what did ‘getting even’ mean, exactly? Was it just that Mickey was ambitious in his career, and planned to outdo Chance in some other professional arena? Or did it mean something much more sinister? It was impossible to tell. Kat also had to keep in mind that she was hearing the story second-hand.

  Ashlee’s home phone began to ring. She leaned over to where it sat in the cradle on the end table next to the couch and pressed a button.

  “Hello?” a man’s voice boomed out into the room.

  Ashlee slumped back on the couch. “Who’s this?”

  “It’s Tommy.”

  Ashlee rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. “Tommy who?”

  He laughed a little. “Ashlee, is that you? It’s Tommy, the station manager. Tommy, your boss.”

  “Oh, Tommy,” Ashlee said, her voice weary. “My mind is all over the place, I’m sorry.”

  “I called to give you my sincere condolences about Chance. He was a great man. A truly fine man.”

  “Thank you,” Ashlee said. She straightened up, and a look of grief crossed her face. Kat watched as the younger woman struggled to control her sadness. “So,” Ashlee said with fake brightness. “I expect you’re wondering when your most popular newscaster will grace the studio again.” She let out a little tinkly laugh, which sounded dangerously close to crying. “Well, Tommy, I think I’ll be back at the station in three days.”

  Tommy sighed. “I know this is awful of me, but is there any chance you can come back sooner? We’ve put Randy on everything for the time being, and he’s doing a horrible job. He’s okay behind a desk, and he can play second fiddle to you in a somewhat limited way, but he can’t handle the limelight. He’s trying to interview people for stories, and he looks and sounds ridiculous. He’ll make the station a laughingstock before the week’s finished.”

  Ashlee laughed, and this time it was genuine. “Maybe now you’ll appreciate me, Tommy, but I really do need three days. I can’t budge on that.”

  “Not even for… triple pay, Ashlee?”

  She shook her head. “No, not even for triple pay, but I promise, I’ll be back in three days.” She tittered again. “You can give me triple pay then, Tommy.”

  “I don’t know about that, Ashlee,” he said good-naturedly. “Take care of yourself, and we’ll see you soon. Bye.”

  “Thank you, Tommy. Bye.” The phone clicked off. “Typical,” she said to Kat, as if they were much better friends than they really were. “That’s Randy, screwing everything up.”

  “I’ve heard his newscasting skills aren’t up to much,” Kat said, remembering her call with Mitzi. “Why do you think he took that position if he’s not capable of doing a good job?”

  “Probably because he wants my job. Everyone does.”

  Kat nodded. It was as if a switch had been flipped and the boastful, ice queen Ashlee was back. Kat could feel anger starting to rise up in her chest. She wanted to be as far away from Ashlee as possible, but if she left now, no progress would be made on the murder investigation.

  “Let’s face it,” Kat said, steeling herself for what was to come. “You say everyone loved Chance. But it’s a well-known fact that not everyone loves you. Do you think someone might have… killed Chance, to punish you?”

  Ashlee recoiled, as if Kat had slapped her in the face. Her eyes narrowed in anger, then she opened her mouth as if ready to unleash a torrent of angry responses. But almost immediately she closed her mouth and flopped back on the couch as if she was the one who was dead. “I don’t know.”

  Kat pressed on regardless. “Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge against you?”

  “Yes,” Ashlee said, looking at her nails, then the ceiling. Anywhere but at Kat.

  “A bad enough grudge to want to destroy you?”

  Ashlee groaned. It was as if all the energy she normally possessed had been sucked out of her. “I don’t know.”

  “Think about it,” Kat said.

  Lacie came in with Kat’s cup of coffee, with cream and sugar in it this time, and set it on the coffee table.

  “Thanks, sweetie,” Kat said. “Do you have anything you need to do, by the way?” She asked her daughter. “I could give you a ride somewhere if you need one.”

  “Oh, no, it’s okay, Mom,” Lacie said. “I’d rather stay here. All I had planned for today was to clean out my room at the sorority house. That’ll hold for another day.”

  “Okay, darling.”

  They exchanged smiles and Lacie left the room. Kat sipped on her warm, sweet, creamy coffee and thought about what she was going to ask Ashlee next. She was wondering just how many enemies Ashlee might have made. She’d certainly insinuated awful things about Blaine and Deborah.

  She was sure there must be more, many more people who had run afoul of Ashlee’s mean-spirited in-your-face form of television reporting. “Ashlee,” she said sharply, hoping to jerk the woman out of her self-pit party. “You’re a hard-hitting newswoman, wouldn’t
you agree?”

  Ashlee sat up and finally looked at Kat, but she was still bleary. “Yes, I’d have to agree with that.”

  “You’ve already said the police aren’t too thrilled with you. Have you made other enemies?”

  “Of course, I have. That’s what I do. I find out the truth and bring it to the attention of the public. A lot of people don’t want the truth to come out, so they’re mad at me for exposing it. Hatred comes with the territory.” The pompous expression on Ashlee’s face indicated she thought she was some kind of martyr.

  Kat had to keep her mouth tightly closed for a moment in order to stop herself from blurting out that maybe what Ashlee reported wasn’t always the truth. Maybe it was because of her own biased assumptions that she came to by jumping to conclusions. After all, it had been proven that Blaine and Deborah had nothing to do with either Judge Dickerson’s murder or that of the coed who was murdered. Yet if anyone had listened to Ashlee’s news show back when both of those cases were in the headlines, they were definitely led to believe that both of them were murderers.