When Day Breaks

by Mary Jane Clark

  Ursula held the needlepoint canvas out in front of her and admired her handiwork. She had designed this piece as a tribute to Constance, and if something happened, it could help the police solve Constance’s murder—as well as her own.

  In block letters, the first stanza of the sonnet was outlined in black wool:

  Lady of allure,

  A lonely shining star,

  Determined and so sure,

  And worshipped from afar.

  Ursula knew that it was her duty to go to the police and tell them what she’d seen. But she wasn’t going to, at least not yet. Maybe the police could figure things out themselves. She hoped so, because she didn’t want to end up like her sister. A good citizen who had come forward as a witness to a crime, but lying dead now, six feet under the ground.

  CHAPTER 43

  As soon as her twins were out the door and off to school, Annabelle jumped into the shower. She put on her makeup in the bathroom, listening to the raised volume of the bedroom television set, which was tuned to KEY.

  Applying her mascara and listening to another report on Constance Young’s death, Annabelle marveled: One weekend could change things so drastically. On Friday, KEY to America had said good-bye to Constance, and Annabelle had been scheduled to come in very early on Monday morning to be part of the production of Lauren Adams’s first day as host. Today Constance was dead, and Annabelle no longer worked for KTA.

  Annabelle finished in the bathroom and walked into the master bedroom, pausing at the television to turn the volume a bit lower. As she put on her clothes, all the attention to the Constance Young story was beginning to seem excessive to her. Yes, everyone at KEY News, perhaps even in the entire news business, was riveted by the story. And true, the American public was fascinated by the trials and tribulations of celebrities. But there were actually other things happening in the world, events of more importance than the death of Constance Young. You’d never know that from the coverage on KTA this morning, however.

  Switching channels, Annabelle noted that Daybreak was joining in the Constance Young frenzy. She clicked the remote control again and again, finding that the other stations were doing their versions of the story as well. But then a face she recognized from the past appeared on the screen. Annabelle put the clicker down.

  It was Jason Vaughan, a man Annabelle remembered from all the media coverage about two years ago. Vaughan was hawking his new book, and the interviewer was holding up a copy of Never Look Back.

  Annabelle had heard that Vaughan was writing a book about the media and its ability to ruin someone’s reputation and then move on to the next news cycle without a backward glance or any regard for the havoc wreaked in the subject’s life. She’d also heard that Constance came in for quite a lambasting in the book. She’d done an interview with Vaughan after he was declared a hero for rescuing several people from a burning building. Under Constance’s persistent and blistering questions, Vaughan had stuttered and contradicted himself and ended up looking like an impostor. Immediately following the interview, witnesses came forward and said that in the confusion and smoke of the fire, they weren’t entirely certain it had been Vaughan who’d extricated them from danger. Other media got on the bandwagon, and Vaughan went from being heralded as courageous and noble to being derided as suspicious and untrustworthy.

  “I still maintain that I rescued those people,” Vaughan explained to the interviewer on the screen. “But after that interview with Constance Young, no one ever believed me. I ended up losing my job on Wall Street—no one wanted to trade with somebody they couldn’t trust. I had to move out of the apartment I was living in. People who’d been hailing me as a hero began avoiding me in the elevator. Not to mention I couldn’t afford the rent in a luxury building anymore. The strain of it all was too much, and my marriage ended as well.”

  “What are you doing now? How are you making a living?” asked the interviewer.

  “I’m trying to make it as a writer,” answered Vaughan. “But it hasn’t been easy.”

  Annabelle studied the careworn face, the deep creases in the man’s forehead, his earnest expression. She was relieved she hadn’t had anything to do with the background research or production of the interview Constance had done with him. If it turned out Vaughan was telling the truth, his life had been ruined.

  Slipping on her shoes, Annabelle recalled that the woman who produced the KTA book segments had mentioned that Vaughan’s book had been dismissed by the major publishing houses as predictable sour grapes and that he’d garnered a pretty measly advance from what was considered a second-rate publisher. But from Jason Vaughan’s perspective at least, with interest in Constance Young at an all-time high, the timing of the publication of Never Look Back couldn’t have been better.

  CHAPTER 44

  Near the end of KEY to America, Harry Granger, with Lauren sitting beside him, introduced the last piece of the show.

  “Our broadcast this morning has focused largely on the untimely death of our colleague Constance Young, whom so many of you have watched here every morning. We are all in shock, but, as you all know, Lauren Adams succeeds Constance at the anchor desk, and this is Lauren’s first day. She’s already familiar to you from the many stories she has contributed as KTA lifestyle correspondent, but we thought you’d like to get to know more about the woman we hope you’ll be starting your day with every morning.”

  Harry disappeared from the screen, and a picture of a little girl on a pony appeared.

  “Lauren was born in Frankfort, Kentucky, the daughter of a homemaker and a stable manager for one of the Blue Grass State’s biggest horse farms. Even before she could walk, Lauren loved to ride.”

  Lauren appeared on-screen in an interview that had clearly been shot recently. “I remember waiting for the school bell to ring every afternoon, just so I could get out and get to the stables. I loved trailing my dad around and seeing him watch over the horses. I loved feeding them and brushing them and talking to them. I even didn’t mind cleaning up after them. I adored them, and I still do.”

  Up came a picture of Lauren, in riding clothes and velvet helmet, jumping a fence on her Thoroughbred mount, followed by a shot of her wearing a sparkling tiara and holding an armful of roses.

  Harry’s narration continued. “Lauren rode competitively, winning many equestrian prizes, but when she was a senior in high school, she won the title of Miss Kentucky Reel, excelling in the talent competition with a mesmerizing display of baton twirling. From there she went to Kentucky State University, where she graduated with honors, earning a degree in communications.”

  The piece went on to include videotape of Lauren covering different stories over the years. When the piece was over, the camera came back to a two-shot of Harry and Lauren on the sofa.

  “Miss Kentucky Reel, eh?” Harry smirked.

  Lauren smiled as she protested. “Hey, don’t knock beauty pageants. The lives of many prominent television journalists and personalities have been influenced by their participation in those competitions. As you know, Harry, Constance won the Miss Virginia title, Diane Sawyer was America’s Junior Miss, Deborah Norville was a Georgia Junior Miss, Paula Zahn was a finalist in the Miss Teenage America Pageant, and Gretchen Carlson was Miss America. Even Oprah Winfrey was involved in a pageant. She won Nashville’s Miss Fire Prevention title in 1973.”

  “Do tell,” said Harry.

  Lauren laughed. “All right, make fun if you want to. But I never learned more from any other single experience than I learned from that pageant.”

  CHAPTER 45

  It was early, but already the bouquets of flowers were arriving from well-wishers eager to impress Lauren on her first day. Boyd made several trips back and forth from Lauren’s office to the Broadcast Center lobby to pick up the lavish arrangements being dropped off by Manhattan’s finest florists.

  He shifted the bouquets around the office until he was sure they were displayed to their best advantage. Then he turned on the televis
ion monitors mounted to the walls, knowing that Lauren was obsessed with keeping track of the competition. Boyd set out some new magazines in a neat pile on Lauren’s desk, made sure every pencil in the drawer was sharpened, and booted up her computer. He stood in the doorway and gave the office one more look, wanting to be certain that everything would be pleasing to Lauren when she came up from the studio. Satisfied, Boyd turned to go back to his desk in the outer office when the image on one of the televisions caught his eye.

  Boyd felt his stomach tighten.

  Jason Vaughan was being interviewed. Then a book cover flashed on the screen. Never Look Back.

  Boyd sank down onto the sofa and aimed the remote at the television to turn up the volume. The more he listened to Jason Vaughan talk, the more worried Boyd felt.

  Months ago it had seemed like a good idea to talk with the disgruntled author. Boyd had been so angry himself, so fed up, with Constance and the dismissive and disrespectful way she treated him. Vaughan had promised that he wouldn’t reveal his source. Yet even as he’d answered Vaughan’s probing questions, Boyd had a nagging feeling that he could be making a big mistake.

  Now he knew for certain he had. Even if Vaughan kept his word, somebody might be able to read something in the book and deduce that the information had come from her personal assistant. And with Constance dead now, anyone who had expressed such awful things about her might be looked at as a person of interest in her death if the autopsy showed there’d been foul play.

  CHAPTER 46

  As she stepped into the elevator, Eliza didn’t know how long Lauren would be staying around after her first show. Not wanting to miss her, Eliza bypassed the second floor and went up to the seventh.

  The door to Lauren’s office was closed, but Boyd Irons sat in the anteroom.

  “I’ll buzz her and let her know you’re here,” he said.

  The door opened almost immediately. Linus Nazareth stood in the doorway.

  “Eliza, Eliza,” he said in a loud voice. “To what do we owe this honor?”

  “I just wanted to come up and personally congratulate Lauren on surviving her first day,” said Eliza as she walked into the office. Lauren was leaning against the edge of her desk.

  “Well, thank you, Eliza. That’s very sweet of you,” she said. “And thank you for the flowers. They’re gorgeous.” Lauren pointed to the glass cylinder filled with two dozen long-stemmed white roses.

  Eliza laughed. “It looks like a florist shop in here.”

  “People have been very kind.” Lauren smiled.

  “As well they should be,” Linus said. “They know that Lauren is going to be the next queen of morning television.”

  Neither Eliza nor Lauren said anything.

  “All right,” said Linus. “Maybe, under the circumstances, that wasn’t the most tactful thing to say. But the fact remains, Constance is dead, and that creates a vacuum. Lauren is going to do the filling.” Linus smiled confidently. “Now I’ll leave you two girls to it.”

  Both women watched as the executive producer walked out of the office.

  “You’ve got to give credit where credit is due,” said Eliza after he was out of earshot. “Linus is absolutely devoted to making KTA a ratings success. I bet his first waking thought is about KTA and he falls asleep thinking about KTA. No doubt he dreams about KTA, too.”

  “You’re right. He does,” said Lauren. “I don’t know what I would have done without him. He’s helped me every step of the way. I wouldn’t be here without Linus.”

  Eliza searched Lauren’s face. “It’s a lot of pressure sitting in that chair, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “If only the two hours the viewers see was all of it,” said Lauren as she walked around her desk and signaled for Eliza to take a seat opposite her. “It’s the research and prep time and the time spent doing publicity interviews and trying on clothes and experimenting with makeup and hairstyles and knowing that everything you say and do on-screen is being analyzed. I never understood how important privacy is until I was named as Constance’s successor.”

  “Yes,” Eliza acknowledged. “It can be a lot, but let’s not forget that if we don’t want to do it, there are plenty of others who would jump at the chance. As far as the privacy is concerned, it’s really important to have friends you can trust and to be able to carve out time that’s all yours.”

  “I can tell already you’re right about that,” said Lauren, snapping her gum. “Thank God I have my riding. When I was a little girl, I could get so involved in the stable and in riding that I’d be lost for hours at a time. It’s still pretty much the same way. Horses mean so much to me. When I’m riding, I’m in a zone.”

  “Do you have your own?” asked Eliza.

  “Yes,” answered Lauren. “I used to ride at the Claremont Riding Academy here in the city, but when I signed my new contract, I decided I could afford my own horse. I keep him in upstate New York. I was up there Saturday morning when I got the call about Constance. That’s how I got there so quickly.”

  “About Saturday,” said Eliza tentatively. “I’m sorry about what happened in our two-way on the Evening Headlines that night. I truly had no idea that you didn’t know about the stolen unicorn. I hope you believe me when I tell you I wasn’t trying to make you look foolish.”

  “I realize that now, Eliza. But to tell you the truth, I was reeling mad then. I screamed blue murder to Linus about it, but I regret that now. I didn’t treat Annabelle Murphy and B.J. D’Elia well enough. That’s why B.J. went to you with the information instead of telling me. Because of that, we’ve lost two good people on KTA—and now the Evening Headlines has Annabelle and B.J. Our loss is your gain.”

  CHAPTER 47

  Paige was waiting when Eliza reached her office.

  “The Cloisters wants to know if you would consider being the mistress of ceremonies Wednesday night for the reception and preview of their Camelot exhibition. It’s primarily for their major donors, but there will be a limited number of tickets available to the public. Constance was supposed to do it, but obviously that isn’t going to happen now.”

  “Gee, Paige, I don’t know,” said Eliza, grimacing a bit. “I don’t really know enough about the Middle Ages.”

  “They say they’ll send down some research if you like, but they don’t expect you to be anything approaching an expert. Basically they’re looking for a charming, well-known personality who will bring some prestige to the evening—more of a hostess than a lecturer or teacher.”

  “Another night away from Janie? No,” said Eliza. “Tell them I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to do it.”

  “All right,” said Paige, “but I really had to feel bad for the woman who called. Not only has she lost her emcee, but the focal point of her exhibition is missing. She sounded beside herself.”

  “Surely she could find someone else,” said Eliza. “I bet Lauren would be happy to do it.”

  “I actually suggested Lauren to her,” said Paige, “but she wasn’t enthusiastic. She said Lauren isn’t well known enough.”

  “Lauren would love to hear that,” said Eliza. She thought for a moment. “All right, I’ll do it. I know how it is to be organizing something like that and have things seem to fall apart right before the event. And since Constance was going to do it, it would be nice if KEY News came to the rescue. Call the woman up, tell her yes, and ask her to send me that information about the exhibit.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Annabelle came into Eliza’s office and held out the report.

  “I thought you’d want to see this.”

  Eliza took the document and scanned the autopsy findings. She looked up at Annabelle. “Cardiac arrest was the cause of death?” she asked. “That makes even less sense than drowning. Constance was in amazing physical shape.”

  “Keep reading,” answered Annabelle.

  There’d been alcohol in Constance Young’s system, but not an excessive amount. Her skin was rough, swollen, and wrinkled, consistent wit
h being immersed in water. But there was no sign of the struggle usually associated with drowning, nor were her lungs or stomach filled with water. There were hemorrhages in her middle ear, sometimes seen in drowning cases, but the report noted that hemorrhages of this kind could also occur in cases of head trauma, mechanical asphyxiation, and electrocution.

  The document went on to cite the police report finding that the lights and heater at Constance’s pool had shorted out, suggesting a possible surge of electricity. Eliza knew that electrocution victims die of cardiac arrest when current flows through the heart, disrupting the normal coordination of the heart muscles. The muscles lose their rhythm and begin to fibrillate. Death soon follows. Death when the heart stops. Cardiac arrest.

  Taken together, the findings suggested that Constance Young had been electrocuted. But the question was, had the electrocution been accidental? Or deliberate?

  Just as Annabelle was about to leave, Boyd Irons arrived at Eliza’s office.

  “Constance’s sister called,” he announced. “She wants to have the funeral service tomorrow morning. At eleven.”

  “Tomorrow? Isn’t that a bit quick? The autopsy was just released today,” said Eliza. “That makes me think the body is only being released today as well.”

  “Yes, it’s quick all right,” Boyd agreed. “Faith told me she wants to get this over and done with. So I’m calling around like a crazy person, inviting people to come to the funeral home.”

  “What kind of response are you getting?” asked Eliza.