Murdered by News

by Dianne Harman

  Once Kat had herself under control, she spoke in a calm voice. “Think back over the past year or so. Does anyone stand out? Anyone who might have been particularly angry with something you said about them?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ashlee groaned again. “My brain’s not functioning.” With a dramatic gesture, she raised a hand to her brow and said in a loud voice, “Tyler, come in here.”

  Tyler appeared in the doorway in seconds, concern in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

  Lacie appeared a moment later, also looking worried.

  “Yes, we’re fine,” Ashlee said. “Now Tyler, tell me, who would have a grudge against me after the news reports I’ve done this year? Who did you and I and Chance all talk about at some point? My memory is pretty much a blank.”

  Tyler’s eyes widened. Kat knew that meant they’d talked about a lot of people who’d held grudges against Ashlee over the course of the past year. He rocked back and forth on his heels in the doorway, trying to get his thoughts together.

  “Come on in here,” Ashlee said impatiently. “Don’t just stand there like a tree stump.”

  Both Tyler and Lacie entered the room and sat on one of the other couches.

  “I can think of one,” Lacie said. “Jenna.”

  “Oh, yes, her,” Ashlee said, screwing her nose up. “She’s always hated me ever since Chance chose me over her way back when we were in college. I mean, come on, move on with your life already, right? All I did was factually report that she had some nasty creepy pests crawling around in the kitchen of her diner, and ever since then I’ve been hearing rumors that she hates me.” She sighed. “How unfair can you get? I didn’t do anything except tell the truth. I think people deserve to know what’s going on in the kitchen at the place where they’re eating.”

  Lacie looked at her hands in her lap. In any other situation, Kat knew she would have spoken up, as Kat would have. After all, everyone knew what a huge fuss Ashlee had made about Jenna’s Diner, and how she’d exaggerated and single-handedly practically put Jenna’s out of business. Kat watched Tyler carefully. He looked nervous, and his eyes darted around the room a little too fast. Was he scared of his older sister, she wondered? She couldn’t exactly blame him. Ashlee was a formidable figure, especially since she was eight years older than he was. Perhaps she’d always dominated the family.

  “Okay,” Kat said. She’d been taking notes of what was said. So far she had Mickey at the Topeka Tribune, Randy Bryan from the station, and Jenna on her people of interest list. If she were being honest, she also should have put Blaine, Deborah, and the Assistant DA on the list. Her heart sank when she realized there were going to be so many suspects to follow up on. She hoped she was up to it. “Anyone else you can think of?”

  “What about that drug dealer guy?” Tyler said. “The handyman.”

  “That was ages ago,” Ashlee said dismissively, waving her hand.

  “Yeah,” said Tyler, “but I saw in the paper a couple weeks ago that he’d gotten out of prison.”

  Kat’s heart started beating faster. “What happened?”

  “Oh, he was just some seedy drug pusher guy I helped bust,” Ashlee said airily. “He was supposed to be a handyman or whatever at one of the fraternities, but that was obviously just a cover for his illicit drug activity. Anyway, I made sure the chief of police arrested him, so I suppose that makes me the bad guy. This world is crazy, I tell you.”

  Kat frowned. “He sounds like a very likely suspect. What’s his name?”

  Ashlee shrugged. “Um… I don’t really like drug pushers, so I can’t say I remember his name. Let me think for a minute. Maybe Luke Morrisey? Or Morrison? I’m not sure. Look it up online.”

  Kat pressed her lips tightly together while she wrote his name on her list. With the condescending tone of voice Ashlee used when she spoke to her, it was as if Kat was her personal secretary.

  “I’ve thought of a couple of others,” Tyler said. “The Bartons.”

  “Who are the Bartons?” Kat asked.

  “Scumbags,” Ashlee interjected. “Sunny Barton thinks she’s the queen of the world because she was a three-thousandth generation Pi Beta Phi or whatever and keeps inviting everyone to her McMansion to extend the glory of her college days while pretending to do things for charity. And her husband, Johnny Barton, is nothing more than a sleazy car dealer who only cares about money.”

  “It was the whole BMW incident in Illinois,” Tyler explained to Kat. “I don’t know if you saw it. That was when ‘Mr. Buyer’ as they call him, had an accident in a BMW he’d bought from one of Barton’s dealerships. It was misrepresented to him, and the dealership and Barton tried to cover it up. Ring a bell?”

  “Oh yes, I remember a little something about it,” Kat said. She’d seen a couple of the news reports, although those hadn’t gotten particularly into the details of the story. “I think I’ve heard of the Bartons locally, too, come to think of it.” She added the Bartons to her list. “Can you think of anyone else who can’t stand you?” she asked, and couldn’t resist thinking, apart from me, when she looked in Ashlee’s direction.

  “Probably,” Ashlee said airily. “How long have you got? The more people I antagonize, the more comfortable I feel in knowing I’m doing my job properly. For instance, take the time when…”

  The phone began to ring again. Ashlee gave it a menacing look, as if it had deliberately interrupted her “Very Important Story” just to spite her. “Yes?” she said. “Oh hello, Chief Moore.” She didn’t sound very interested in speaking to him and put the call on speakerphone before sprawling back on the couch.

  “Hello, Mrs. Nelson,” he said gently. “I’m calling with the results of the preliminary coroner’s report. “Is now a good time to talk?”

  “As good as any, Chief.”

  “All right. The report shows that Chance died from being hit in the head multiple times with a blunt instrument.”

  Ashlee winced.

  “Tests will probably show that it was the fire extinguisher found next to his body,” he continued. “But we can’t say we’re 100% certain about that just yet.”

  “All right,” Ashlee said.

  There was a long, drawn-out, awkward silence between them. “So,” he said. “Do you have anything you want to talk about?”

  “May I speak with him?” Kat asked. “I have a couple questions I’d like to ask him.”

  “About your investigation, you mean?” Ashlee asked, her eyes suddenly focused and intense again.

  Kat nodded.

  “Okay, but come over here, or you’ll have to yell for him to hear you.”

  Kat came over and sat on the couch at the far end next to the side table. “Hi, Chief Moore. It’s Kat. Blaine’s wife.”

  “Oh, hi, Kat,” he said, sounding surprised that she was with Ashlee.

  “Ashlee and I’ve been talking about who might have had a motive for murdering Chance, and I was just wondering if you’d been able to get any fingerprints yet.”

  “You’re helping Ashlee?” he asked in an incredulous tone of voice. “After what she said about Blaine?”

  “I didn’t say anything that any other sane person wouldn’t have said,” Ashlee snapped.

  Kat laughed awkwardly. “You’re on speakerphone, Chief.”

  Ashlee crossed her arms. “Yeah, and I’d appreciate a little professionalism, Chief, if you don’t mind.”

  The chief was quiet for a moment, then evidently decided to let the issue go. “No fingerprints at all,” he said. “It looks like whoever did it wore gloves.”

  “What about DNA?” Kat asked.

  “It’s too early for those test results,” the Chief said, “but we should have them back soon.”

  “Okay. I’d appreciate it if you could you give me a call when you get those results back.”

  He paused, and then said, “I don’t see any reason why I can’t.”

  “Thanks,” Kat said. “Talk to you soon, Chief.” Then she en
ded the call.

  “I can’t believe the nerve of him,” Ashlee said. “Bringing up something that happened such a long time ago. And just when my husband has been killed. You’d think—”

  “I don’t mean to cut you off,” Kat said, looking at her watch. “But I have to go home to check on my dogs.” Somehow the time had flown by, and it was nearly noon. “Is there anyone else you can think of who might have it in for you?”

  “Evidently, Chief Moore,” Ashlee said. “And perhaps…” Then she shut her mouth. Kat got the distinct feeling she was going to say Blaine, and then had to reign herself in.

  “I’m going to get in touch with Blaine’s brother Nick,” Kat said. “He’s a private investigator. I’ll send him the names we’ve gone over this morning and see if he can come up with anything on them.”

  Out of nowhere, it seemed, Ashlee burst into tears. It rattled Kat, and she didn’t quite know what to do.

  “Chance was such a good man,” Ashlee cried. “If it’s one of those people on the list that killed him, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Wow, Kat thought. That was unexpected. Suddenly the cocky, arrogant façade had crumbled.

  “It would be all my fault, wouldn’t it?” she said, her voice thick with tears and emotion.

  “No, it wouldn’t,” Tyler said.

  Yes, it would, Kat thought.

  “The only thing Chance and I ever argued about was my way of sometimes being aggressive and insinuating or suggesting derogatory things about the people involved in the stories I covered,” Ashlee said. “He said it made for very exciting news, and he respected my take no prisoners approach, but… but… he was worried that someone would want to hurt me.” She stopped talking and started sobbing uncontrollably. Then she blurted out, “And instead of me getting hurt, it might be me that got him killed.”

  This time, even Tyler remained silent.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  By the time Kat got home, Jazz and Rudy were so desperate to get outside, they rushed her at the door and tried to escape around her legs.

  “Come on, Jazz and Rudy,” she said, “let’s get both of you out to the back yard.”

  She hurried through the kitchen and opened the double doors out onto the yard. The warm May sun shining in the brilliant blue sky along with the sunlight streaming into the kitchen made Kat instantly feel better. Spending the morning with Ashlee had made her tenser than she’d realized.

  She decided she’d had enough coffee, so she poured herself a glass of grapefruit juice before sitting down at the kitchen table. She took a sip of the juice, took her notepad out of her purse, and called Nick.

  “Hi, Kat, how are you doing?” he asked when he answered his cell.

  “I’m fine, thanks. We’re all well. How are you doing?”

  “Great, thanks.” Nick was a private investigator with a busy practice and he didn’t engage in idle pleasantries. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

  “Well, a local man by the name of Chance Nelson was murdered here in Lindsay. It looks like he was bludgeoned with a fire extinguisher.” She explained more about who he was, and how he was found. “His widow, Ashlee Nelson, has asked me to delve into the case a little, and she’s given me the names of some people who might be of interest. I was wondering if you could find out more about them for me.”

  After he voiced his shock about her helping Ashlee Nelson, since he was well aware of what had happened with Blaine, and Kat had assured him she knew what she was doing, he said, “Sure, I’ve got a pen. Shoot.”

  “Okay,” she began, and paused from time to time so he’d have enough time to write everything down. “I’ve got a Mickey, who’s the editor of the Topeka Tribune… Randy Bryan, a newscaster here in Lindsay… Jenna from Jenna’s Diner just off-campus from the university… Luke Morrison, a guy who worked at a fraternity house and was charged with selling drugs to students… and lastly, the Bartons.

  “He owns car dealerships throughout the Midwest and recently had a scandal in the news about a car one of his dealers misrepresented. I’m particularly interested where all of these people were at the time of the murder. It was the day of the graduation here in Lindsay, May 15th.”

  “Yesterday,” Nick said.

  “Yes, you’re right.” It felt like a very long time ago. “Chance was in his office, apparently writing an op-ed piece.”

  Kat heard a beep beep on her phone, alerting her that she had another call. It was Mitzi.

  “This should be no trouble at all, Kat,” Nick said. “I’ll jump on it as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you so much,” Kat said. “I really appreciate it. I’ll say hello to Blaine for you when he gets home.”

  “Please do. Tell him I’ll give him a call pretty soon. We need to catch up.”

  “Bye, Nick.” Kat switched over to Mitzi’s call. “Hi, Mitzi.”

  “Hi, Kat. How’s your day going?”

  It was the first time Kat had paused to consider the stressful day she was having. She leaned one elbow against the table and rested her chin in her hand. “Is it bedtime already? Please let it be.”

  Mitzi chuckled sympathetically. “One of those days, huh? Have the dogs been running you ragged? Or maybe it’s the character in the latest book you’re writing.”

  “Neither. I’ve been trying to help Ashlee Nelson, and even in her grief she still seems to suck the life out of me.”

  Mitzi paused. “Are you kidding?”

  Kat let out a long sigh. “Lacie called me this morning and asked me to come over to the Nelson home. I don’t know if I told you that she’s staying there with Tyler and Ashlee for now. Anyway, when I got there Ashlee asked me if I would consider investigating the murder of her husband.”

  “You didn’t agree, did you?” Mitzi asked, clearly astonished at what she was hearing.

  “I did,” Kat said. “Although it may have been against my better judgment.” Her stomach began to make rumbling sounds, and she stood up to fix herself a sandwich. “But I thought that I had to, really.” She opened the refrigerator, looked inside, and quickly chose one of her favorites, cream cheese and a slice of ham.

  “You are in no way obligated to Ashlee Nelson,” Mitzi said firmly. “You had every right to say no.”

  “That’s true,” Kat said, “but what about Lacie and Tyler? Tyler could very well end up being my son-in-law, and he said Chance Nelson was like a father to him. His own father died several years ago. How could I look him in the face and tell him that no, I didn’t want to investigate Chance’s murder? It wouldn’t exactly get us off on the best footing, would it? And then Lacie would feel torn between him and me, and the whole thing would end up in one big mess.”

  “Hmm, I see what you mean,” Mitzi said. “Still, I have to tell you you’re a better person than I would have been. I’d hate to have to work so closely with her. She’s slippery as a snake. How on earth do you think you’ll be able to stand it, knowing that she accused Blaine of murdering Judge Dickerson?”

  “I felt torn about that,” Kat admitted. She assembled her sandwich makings on the kitchen counter and began to prepare it. “But Blaine said I shouldn’t feel at all guilty about that, or disloyal to him or anything. Also… you know, I kind of felt sorry for Ashlee.”

  “Hmm,” Mitzi said in a noncommittal way.

  “I mean, her husband’s just been murdered. And the way she wailed, Mitzi, it went right through my heart. It was the most tortured sound I’ve ever heard. It was terrible, just terrible. You’d have to have a heart of stone not to respond to that with compassion.”

  Mitzi sighed. “I’m sure she is going through a rough time. I can’t even imagine how I’d be if Rex… God forbid… if anything ever happened to Rex.”

  “I agree,” Kat said. “I was thinking the same thing about Blaine. As much as I can’t stand her, I can’t just turn a blind eye to what she’s going through.”

  Mitzi sounded thoughtful. “Do you think the whole thing will change her? M
aybe she’ll change and be nicer to people. Did she act any different?”

  “She seemed to switch between two modes,” Kat said. “Sometimes she was totally lethargic, like she couldn’t bear to put any energy out into the world. Other times she was her usual razor-sharp self and seemed perfectly business-like. Maybe that’s her way of coping.”

  “Maybe she’s just hard-hearted,” Mitzi said bitterly. “Perhaps she’s just an ice woman.”