Murdered by News

by Dianne Harman

  “Of course,” Kat said. “You’re great with dogs. Is that what you’re going to specialize in?”

  Tyler shrugged. “Well, I’m comfortable with small animals, but my family once had a small ranch east of town, so I’m used to horses and cows, too. My dad made us pitch in, and I saw lots of veterinarians when they came to the farm to treat our animals.”

  Kat nodded. “Us? Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  Tyler loaded up his fork with some mashed potatoes and a big piece of a meatball, looking down at it longingly. “I have a sister, Ashlee Nelson. She’s the news anchor woman on the four o’clock news and the ten o’clock news. You’ve probably seen her.”

  Kat’s chest constricted. She’d done plenty more than see Ashlee Nelson on television. She and Blaine exchanged a quick glance. Ashlee had been broadcasting live on the air when she’d accused Blaine of being Judge Dickerson’s murderer, which obviously didn’t endear her to Kat. She wasn’t the only one with reservations about Ashlee. A lot of people had since told Kat they thought what Ashlee had said on the air about Blaine was terribly unethical.

  “Oh, yes,” Kat said, trying to keep her voice light. “I think I know who you mean. So, Ashlee’s your sister. Lovely.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tyler continued, unperturbed. “Yeah, actually we’re really close, and her husband’s great.” He scraped the edge of his fork along the plate, not wanting to let any of the Marsala sauce go to waste. “Maybe you know him, too… Chance Nelson?”

  “The name rings a bell,” Kat said. “Where have I heard it before?”

  Tyler grinned. “The Lindsay News. He’s the owner and editor.”

  “Oh, of course,” Kat said. She leaned out of the way, so Blaine could clear her plate. “Didn’t his paper recently win a Pulitzer Prize?”

  “That it did,” Tyler said, then he laughed good-naturedly. “A couple of real overachievers, right? If they have kids, they’ll probably get admitted to Harvard before they’re ten years old.”

  Kat laughed and stood up. “Anyone care for some ice cream for dessert? We have rum n’ raisin.”

  Lacie’s eyes lit up and she gave a cartoonish little squeal.

  “Lacie’s favorite, too, I take it,” Tyler said, grinning.

  “You bet,” said Lacie.

  “We also have a double dark chocolate brownie flavor, because that’s my personal favorite,” Kat continued. “And a real good quality Tahitian vanilla which Blaine likes. So the question, I guess, Tyler, is which one do you like?”

  “Oh, he’s a total ice cream freak,” Lacie said. “If you give him cabbage ice cream, he’d probably like it.”

  Kat grinned at them. “One scoop of each flavor, then?”

  Tyler flushed and nodded. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  “Remember when we went to Jenna’s that one time, and you ordered that humongous sundae?” Kat heard Lacie say as she was on her way towards the kitchen.

  Blaine was already in the kitchen, standing at the sink, covering the dishes with warm soapy water. “Hey, don’t worry about that, honey. We can do that after they leave,” Kat said as she opened the door to the freezer.

  “I’m nearly finished,” he said with a smile.

  “All right.” Kat got out the bowls and the special ice cream scoop that had become an indispensable kitchen utensil for her and began to dish out the ice cream. She’d previously prepared a bowl of chopped strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries to go with the ice cream along with a bowl of chopped nuts, and a dish of whipped cream, all of which were ready to be taken out of the refrigerator. Somehow it didn’t seem enough to serve ice cream just on its own, plain, with no toppings.

  Her mind began to wander to Ashlee Nelson. Her body tightened just thinking about the woman, and she could feel the tension start to pinch at her temples. She took a deep breath and tried to put Ashlee out of her mind––the anger would have to come later.

  She couldn’t even allow herself to feel it, because she knew Lacie could read her mind like a book, even when Kat had her ‘everything’s-just-fine’ mask on. Lacie would prod and poke, and it would all come tumbling out over the dinner table which wouldn’t be the most welcoming way to greet Lacie’s new boyfriend for the first time.

  Just as she was dishing up Lacie’s rum n’ raisin bowl of ice cream, Blaine walked over to her, and said in a low voice. “What are the odds of that?”

  Kat looked up, startled. Blaine had an uncanny ability to read her mind at times. “You mean, Tyler being Ashlee’s brother?”

  Blaine nodded darkly.

  “Well, I sure didn’t see it coming,” she said. Kat glanced up and saw that Blaine’s face was darkening like a storm cloud. She paused dishing up the ice cream and placed her hand gently on his arm. “Blaine, let’s talk about this after they leave. If I go back in there thinking about it, I probably won’t be able to hold it together. It would be unfair to involve Tyler in his sister’s wrongdoing or hold it against him in any way.”

  Blaine’s frown deepened for a moment, and then he shook it off altogether. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s just… that awful woman, and…” He paused and looked at Kat.

  She gave him a playful, pointed look, and he sighed with as much of a smile as he could muster.

  “Yeah,” he said. “This really does have to wait until later.”

  Kat nodded. “I’ll bet some of your favorite Tahitian vanilla will cheer you up a little, and you can help me by taking the fruit and nut bowls out of the refrigerator.”

  “Not even Tahitian vanilla could save me now,” he said, in a faux-dramatic voice. He opened the refrigerator. “Ooh, but these raspberries might.” He popped one into his mouth.

  “Hey!” Kat said. “Leave those alone. They’ll be all gone before…”

  But she couldn’t finish her sentence, because Blaine had popped one into her mouth, too. He stood next to her, his eyes dancing with fun. “What were you saying?” he asked with a grin. He reached over and tenderly tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

  Kat held the ice cream scoop up near his face and gave him a menacing look. “You better watch out, Mr. District Attorney.”

  He flashed her the most impudent smile she’d ever seen, then headed off to the dining room with the fruit and nut bowls. Kat laughed to herself as she put the ice cream containers back in the freezer. That was one of the things she loved about their relationship. Even when there was something angry or sad that they had to deal with, they always found that whatever the situation, a little humor made it all go down easier.

  As soon as Kat returned to the dining room, she said, “When I was dishing up the ice cream, I noticed that the vanilla ice cream has a picture of Tahiti on the box. A long, white sandy beach with turquoise water. It made me think of where I’d like to go on vacation. Tyler, if you could go on vacation anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

  Sure, it was contrived, but it worked – it took their minds off of Ashlee. Tyler began talking about his fascination with Japanese culture, and everyone chimed in with their trip of a lifetime preferences until all the ice cream, fruit and nuts were gone.

  “I can’t thank you enough for such an excellent dinner, Ms. Denham,” Tyler said, stretching as he got up. “I’m so full I don’t know what to do with myself.”

  Lacie grinned. “Trust me, Mom’s celebration dinners tend to have that effect.”

  “Speaking of which,” Kat said, “I have to take a photo to mark this occasion.”

  “Yes!” Lacie said. She whipped her iPhone out of her pocket. “I’ll just lean it here…” She began some complicated maneuvering of the empty bowls, so she could lean her phone up against them. “I want all of us to be in the picture.” Her phone fell flat on the table. “Oh, man.”

  “Let’s just take turns shooting the picture,” Tyler suggested. He picked up her phone. “I’ll do the first one.”

  “Okay,” Lacie said.

  Lacie pulled bot
h Blaine and Kat into a side hug.

  “Say cheese!” Tyler said.

  Right before the iPhone camera flashed, Lacie whispered, “Do you like him, Mom?” through her posed smile for the picture.

  Snap! The iPhone captured the moment.

  Kat turned towards her daughter and smiled at her. “Yes, Lacie, yes, I do.”

  Lacie broke into a wide, genuine, relieved smile in return. She gave Kat a big hug and couldn’t stop smiling until they were out the door, into the car, and well on their way home.

  Kat and Blaine waved at them until they turned the corner at the end of the street. Kat felt the dinner had really gone well and wanted to savor the moment. She stood in the doorway, taking in the late spring breeze. There, with Blaine’s strong hand gently placed against the small of her back, everything seemed right with the world for a moment. Just a fleeting moment.

  Blaine sighed from behind her, a bittersweet sigh that made her feel weary, though somehow comforted.

  “Well,” she said, closing the front door, “he’s a very nice young man.”

  “Yes,” Blaine said. “Although…”

  “Although how on earth could he be Ashlee Nelson’s brother?” Kat said, speaking aloud what they were both thinking. “Well, darling, they’re gone, so we can vent, but the very least I ask is that we get the rest of the dishes done during our Ashlee rant session.”

  Blaine nodded, looking so serious it was almost comical. “Fine,” he agreed to the deal. “I’ll wash, you dry.” He walked into the kitchen with the focus of an army general, then as soon as he’d plunged his hands into the water, burst out with, “I’m sorry, but I still can’t stand her.”

  “And you’re usually such a forgiving, tolerant man,” Kat said as she took a fresh dish towel out of the second drawer down. “That’s how you know she’s got to be bad, right?”

  He sniffed as he turned the faucet on. “Let’s just say she is not one of the creator’s finest specimens. Her problem is when she gets something in her head, she’s absolutely certain she’s right. And she’s so determined. She’s like a dog with a bone, she’ll just keep going and going and going with that one idea, no matter who she destroys along the way. Even if the idea is totally and completely ridiculous.

  They both knew exactly what the other one meant – when Ashlee had accused Blaine of murdering Judge Dickerson.

  “And don’t forget, you’re not the only one,” Kat said. “She insinuated that my friend Deborah was involved in the murder of Courtney Adams, the coed. The only reason she insinuated that was because she found out Deborah’s husband was cheating on her.”

  “Ashlee just likes scandal,” Blaine said tightly.

  “You’re wrong,” Kat said. “She doesn’t like a scandal, she loves a scandal. It’s the lifeblood of her career.”

  “Career… Huh… Well, all I can say is that she should be ashamed of that so-called profession. She’s not an impartial reporter, she’s a sensationalist.”

  Both of them sounded off the whole time they were cleaning up the kitchen and even while they were getting ready for bed. Blaine wasn’t even able to break the conversation off when he brushed his teeth. He continued his slurs through a mouthful of toothpaste – right until the lights were out and they were in bed.

  Blaine looked at her. It was as if he’d suddenly woken up. “Ha! Well, now I feel better.”

  Kat grinned. “Me, too. Goodnight, Mr. District Attorney.”

  “Goodnight, Sexy Cissy.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Although Luke Morrison despised his mother, he knew she could be counted on for one thing––supporting him in doing something that was in no way in his best interest, her moral code not being her strong point. And hopefully, letting him live with her for a while until he got things sorted out in his mind.

  He knew he could have gone to stay with his brother Mark (his mom had really been quite unoriginal, and uncharacteristically religious, in naming her four boys, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John), but Mark would have insisted on all kinds of straight-laced conditions that would make Luke feel like the failure of the century. Of course, the I’m-Better-Than- Everyone-Else-Mark thought Luke was guilty as charged and had deserved the prison sentence he’d received.

  “High standards,” Mark always called his views and attitudes.

  “A load of bull,” their mother, Jane Morrison, countered with a sneer in her voice.

  Exchanging Christmas cards was the extent of Mark’s communication with Jane these days. Mark hadn’t even let her meet his children, much less develop a grandparent relationship with them.

  Staying with Matthew or John was no longer a possibility for Luke. He’d left Matthew back at the same prison from which he’d just been released. His older brother was behind bars for murdering a gas station attendant in an armed robbery that went bad. He wouldn’t be seeing freedom for a long time.

  John, the youngest sibling, had been estranged from the family for many years before he died, chasing after the high from drugs that had become his sole focus in life. He’d died of an overdose, two years earlier.

  When the bus he was riding on stopped, Luke got off and stepped onto the sidewalk of his childhood neighborhood. Anger coursed through him. He’d vowed never to come back here. Rather than leaving his mother behind, like Mark had, Luke had made a promise to himself that someday he’d buy her a nice condo in a fancy development project. One that had a little park and maybe a lake, or at the very least an ornamental pond. And it definitely would have a restaurant where there weren’t any roaches or rats.

  At one time he’d been slowly and surely on his way towards that dream. As a child, he hadn’t realized what poverty really was, although he lived in it every day. He didn’t know it was something he could overcome with hard work and a good education. When he was a kid, poverty was Just- The-Way-Life-Was, and that had been fine. Actually, looking back, at times it was great.

  The four brothers got to run through the streets on summer nights with water guns and popsicles, dressed in nothing but tee shirts and threadbare shorts, with the smell of barbecue all around them. They threw rocks at the boys they didn’t like, chased and kissed squealing girls, stole cigarettes from their mom’s supply so they could smoke on the corner, and generally had a marvelous time.

  Mark was the first one to drop out of their little gang when he was in ninth grade. He’d gotten a girlfriend by the name of Isamar De La Cruz. She had arrived recently from the Dominican Republic and was in his class. Isamar was resolute that despite her environment and poor schooling, she was going to end up being a doctor.

  She was also absolutely certain that Mark would become a doctor, too. And, because he wanted to keep her, he made himself absolutely certain of these outcomes. Everyone else laughed until they were blue in the face. Mark, a doctor? But as it turned out, Isamar had been right.

  They were married now, both physicians, with a big house in the suburbs, latest model shiny cars, and two picture-perfect bilingual little girls. They took two vacations a year, one to the Dominican Republic, and another to whatever fancy destination they wanted to go to. One year it was London, the next year Monaco, and the year after that, Dubai.

  Jane made a point of keeping the Christmas letters Mark and his wife sent out every year detailing these trips. She pinned them up on the fridge and complained about how Mark never gave her a cent. In reality he did, but it all came with strings attached about how she should use it to better herself.

  But if truth be told, Jane didn’t want to better herself. She wanted to live out the rest of her years chain smoking, watching daytime TV shows, and gossiping with her neighbors. Isamar was also from a poor background, but she was obsessively clean and hardworking, and found Jane’s lifestyle so disgusting that she, Mark, and the children never visited.

  Luke trudged down the street, feeling himself spiral downward. These streets meant nothing but failure to him. And really, none of it was his fault. He was a couple of years younger tha
n Mark, and back in the early days of Isamar, he’d watched his older brother like a hawk. He wondered if Mark would throw in the towel, and decide he was going to be a drug dealer, like he’d said he was going to be before he met Isamar? After all, it made sense, because drug dealers were the only people making real money in the neighborhood. But Mark didn’t waver. He started getting better grades and quit drinking and smoking dope as well.

  Luke took heart and dared to hope. The moment that stood out for him was when he attended Mark’s high school graduation. Alone. Mom hadn’t made it. She said she had a migraine or something. Luke was very proud of his older brother as he watched him walk across the stage in his burgundy cap and gown, beaming from head to toe. Isamar was wiping tears off her face with her long black curly hair. Something moved in Luke’s chest. If Mark could do this, maybe he could too. Maybe there was another kind of future out there for him.