“Interesting,” Kat said. “That doesn’t really sound like the profile of a killer.”
“You wouldn’t think so,” Nick said, “but you never know. I also took a look at Randy Bryan. I watched him on television last night and he definitely is no Ashlee Nelson, that’s for sure. I found out a couple of strange things about him. He has a very, how shall I put this? Let’s say he has an unusual relationship with his mother. Very close, but also very tempestuous. He’s also had quite a lot of therapy.
“After one particularly bad episode between them, he vowed to make it big as a broadcaster in Los Angeles. According to people who knew his mother, she’d taunted him by telling him with his face and body, he’d be lucky to get a job as a bus boy out there.”
Kat paced the hallway, listening intently.
“He did go to LA, got married, which didn’t work out, and then he came back to Lindsay,” Nick went on. “There was an opening at the station for an assistant newscaster. Supposedly, the reason the station hired him was because he’d had a little experience at a fourth-rate radio station in Los Angeles for a few months. His mother got him the job in Lindsay through her friendship with the station manager’s mother. They play bridge together. The station in Lindsay was pretty desperate because there weren’t that many people to choose from, so they hired him. Word has it he told his mother that his entry level job was just a start, and he’d be taking Ashlee Nelson’s place one of these days. As far as an alibi, Kat, nada.”
“Ooh. That’s interesting,” Kat said. “He’s definitely someone I want to take a long look at.”
“I’d say so. Gotta’ go, Kat, hope that helps.”
“It certainly does. Thanks, Nick.”
“My pleasure.”
Kat returned to the kitchen and saw a fresh cup of creamy coffee waiting for her on the island.
“There’s something I want to tell you,” Ashlee said, then added a bit acidly, “that is, if you’re finished with your important calls.”
Kat could barely swallow her anger. She tried to keep her tone level. “Those calls were about the work I’m doing for you, Ashlee.”
“Good, I would certainly hope so,” Ashlee said, ignoring the color that had risen in Kat’s cheeks, and the way her hands were clenched, obviously not happy with Ashlee’s comment. “Anyway, the station has been forwarding my emails. Last night I felt well enough to check them, and there was one from that druggie guy we were talking about, Luke Morrison. He actually thanked me, for turning around his life.”
Kat remained standing, and savored her warm sweet coffee, willing herself to be calm as Ashlee recounted the message from Luke.
“He said he’s just started attending a seminary school outside of Kansas City. He went on to say he almost faltered and went back to his bad ways when he got out of prison, but then the parents of one of the men he counseled in prison felt he’d helped their son so much they offered to pay for his schooling. They did have one condition, that he would continue to counsel those in prison. He thanked me for being instrumental in his going to prison and finding his life’s true work and meaning.”
“Wow,” said Kat. “That’s really something.”
“That’s amazing, sis. You must feel pretty good about that,” Tyler said.
Ashlee teared up a little, and again, Kat saw just a glimmer of human kindness in her. “At least I did something right,” Ashlee said. “Although it seems most of my news reports have… not had the intended effects I’d hoped for. I mean, I never meant to hurt people.”
“You just report the truth,” Tyler said. “If the truth hurts, then the truth hurts.”
That sounded to Kat like a line Ashlee had told Tyler over and over, until he’d internalized it and now repeated it as his own.
“Yeah, but…” Ashlee trailed off. She didn’t seem quite ready for that level of self-reflection. “I don’t know.”
Kat was preparing to leave and looked down at her notes. “Do you know the name of the seminary, Ashlee?”
“Hmm… Saint something. Saint James? No. Peters? No. Oh yes, I remember now. St Joseph’s Seminary. That’s it.”
“Good,” Kat said, then wrote it down. “I’m leaving now. I’ve got plenty to do. Thank you for this information. This gives me more to go on. I think we’re getting somewhere, Ashlee.”
Ashlee smiled with her signature tight smile. “Well, did you really think I’d ask for your assistance if you weren’t any good at this?”
Kat decided to take that as a compliment. “Thank you,” she said briskly. She finished her coffee, hugged Lacie, and said goodbye to Tyler and Ashlee.
“That woman,” she said to herself as she got in her car, “would try the patience of a saint.”
When she got home, she sent Nick a text, asking him to find out if Luke was at St. Joseph’s Seminary at the time Chance was murdered, and also letting him know she’d be at home for a while if he had anything more for her. She needed to work in her office and answer some emails that had piled up.
But first, she opened the double doors and played with Jazz and Rudy in the back yard. They were reveling in the spring weather, and were super energetic, leaping and jumping to catch the balls she threw. All three of them had a great time, but when the dogs began panting heavily, she knew it was time to end their playtime.
“I’ve got things to do, you lovable rogues,” she said, ruffling their fur. “I have a cozy mystery series I need to start writing and a killer to catch. I can’t throw balls for you all day.”
She was hoping to get her series plotted out, so her mind could be free, and she could concentrate on questioning the suspects in the Chance Nelson murder case in person.
chapter twenty
Kat had decided to call her new cozy mystery series, Around the World with Murder. The few pages she’d written were just preliminary. She was one of those writers who liked to get into the writing process a little before she planned the ultimate direction the new series would take. That way she could get a ‘taste’ of the fictional world she was about to create. She’d completed a few hundred words the night before, and she felt she was ready to flesh out how the series would develop and then she could start to plan the individual books.
Kat quickly learned that her favorite part of writing a cozy mystery, even though it was the most complicated, was plotting out the clues and the red herrings, then making sure they all tied together. For every red herring, she had to be able to provide an explanation for it at the end of the book. Readers needed to know how it turned out to be something perfectly innocent and wasn’t the proof that someone was the murderer.
She was sure she’d get more competent at it as she became more experienced in writing cozy mysteries, but for now the plotting process was both exciting and frustrating, in equal measure. Trying to keep all the pieces of the puzzle separate and then make them fit together at the end was a challenge.
She was almost glad when the phone rang. It pulled her out of the intense cozy mystery world she was creating in her head and on her computer screen and pulled her back into the reality of Lindsay, Kansas.
“Luke Morrison was at the seminary,” Nick said when she answered the phone.
“Well, that means there’s another suspect I can cross off my list,” Kat responded. Her head was still caught up in her fantasy murder world, and now she had to think about a real murder. She was having a problem separating the fictional world she’d been creating from the real world that involved Chance and Ashlee.
In fact, for a brief moment, she thought one of her fictional characters was a possible suspect in the murder of Chance Nelson. It took a moment for her head to clear. She pulled her writing pad toward her and looked at it carefully. “Based on what you’ve told me Nick, I think the only two viable suspects left are Jenna and Randy. Would you agree?”
Nick paused to think for a moment. “Out of those you’ve given me, I’d have to say yes.”
Kat took a deep breath. “I think I need to go spe
ak to them. Can you find out their home addresses for me?”
“Sure, that should only take a couple of minutes. I’ll get right back to you with them.”
“Thanks, Nick,” Kat said, and ended the call.
As soon as she was off the phone, she plunged back into her fictional mystery world. She’d decided the same characters would be featured throughout the series. Of course there would be different suspects in each book, but the principal characters would remain the same. She thought about it and came to the decision that her main character would be a woman who resembled herself in many ways.
Like Kat, the character would adore cooking and entertaining. Her character, unnamed as yet, would give themed dinner parties. They both lived in the Midwest. Kat in Kansas, her character, in Iowa. They both loved to travel, but her character jetted off far more regularly, going around the world to get authentic recipes and ideas for her dazzlingly creative dinner parties.
Kat was deep in daydreams about far away sun-soaked lands when Nick called back with the addresses she’d asked him for. Once he’d given them to her he said, “Don’t do anything rash, Kat. I don’t mean to sound patronizing, but if the murderer is one of those people, obviously they could be dangerous. Be extremely cautious and be careful how you proceed.”
“I will, don’t worry,” Kat said in a rather flippant tone of voice.
Nick didn’t seem convinced at all. “Actually, Kat, I think I…”
But before he could finish what he was about to say Kat cut him off and said, “I might just drive by their homes and see what I can pick up from taking a quick look at them.” She found herself mentally apologizing to Nick for telling him a white lie. She was definitely going to go talk to them, but she’d have both Blaine and Chief Moore on speed dial, in case anything went wrong.
Nick was quiet for a moment, then said, “Kat, you’ve been in some pretty dicey situations in the recent past. Do me a favor and at least take Rudy with you. I hope he doesn’t have to become involved, but let’s face it, he’s saved your life before.”
“I will,” she said. It was actually a pretty good idea. “Don’t worry, I’ll be safe. Talk to you soon.”
Now that she had Randy and Jenna’s home addresses, she wanted to get going and see what she could find out. She rushed downstairs, kenneled Jazz, and opened the back door of her car so Rudy could jump into it. “Come on, boy,” she said to him. “Let’s go catch a killer.”
She knew from the street names that Randy’s house was closer to where she was than Jenna’s. She punched his address into her navigation system, then revved up the car and took off. It was very tempting to speed, especially with the way her heart was beating, both out of trepidation and the thrill of it all, but she managed to keep within the speed limit.
Eventually she came to the right street and drove slowly past Randy’s home. The one-story home was exceptionally well-maintained with white trimmings and shutters. Not a blade of grass was out of place. A car was parked in the driveway, and it was also immaculate. The silver wheels glinted in the sunlight, and even the dark black tires shined.
Kat drove farther up the street, pulled over to the curb, and parked, ignoring the fluttering sensation in her chest. “Come on, Rudy. Let’s go have a little chat with Randy.”
He heeled next to her as she walked up the tidy pathway leading to Randy’s home, and then she knocked on the front door. It took a while to get an answer. She was beginning to think he’d gone out, maybe for a walk, but then she heard a voice ask, “Who’s there?” The man’s voice sounded hostile and annoyed.
“My name’s Kat Denham,” she said. Her mind raced, trying to think of the right thing to say to get him to open the door and talk to her. She was with a charity? She had a package for him? She couldn’t find an address? So many ideas knotted themselves up in her head that she ended up confused, so for simplicity’s sake, she told the truth. “I’d like to talk to you about Chance Nelson.”
After a second or two, the door was opened by Randy Bryan, wearing a robe, even though it was already close to noon. “What about Chance Nelson?” he said, narrowing his eyes.
“Well, I don’t really want to do this on the porch,” she said.
“I don’t allow pets inside,” he replied quickly, looking disdainfully at Rudy.
“Oh…” Kat bit her lip. She remembered Nick mentioning Randy’s mental health difficulties. “Well… I have anxiety attacks. The doctor told me getting a dog might help me, and Rudy does. It would really help if I could bring him inside. He’s a very well-behaved dog. He won’t jump on you or the furniture or anything. He’ll just sit at my feet.”
“Fine.” Randy turned his back and motioned for them to come in.
Kat closed the door behind them and marveled at how clean the house was. It was like a home showcased in some magazine. It didn’t look like anyone even lived on the premises. Kat considered herself to be a good housekeeper, but this took it to another level. The wooden floor gleamed, as if it had just been polished.
Kat had a fleeting thought that if having some kind of mental health difficulties caused one to have such a clean home, she wouldn’t mind having them herself. She then scolded herself for having such a silly thought. But she still couldn’t help marveling at the cleanliness. She could have happily eaten off the floor.
Randy led her into the living room, and she sat down on one of the couches. He sat in a black leather armchair, crossed one leg over the other, and looked at Rudy suspiciously. “So why are you here?” he asked.
chapter twenty-one
Kat tried to break the ice with a friendly smile and a softball question. “You’re a newscaster for the same station as Ashlee Nelson, aren’t you?”
She saw a quick flicker of hatred cross his face. “Yes, I am. So what?”
“She’s a… friend of mine,” Kat said.
“I didn’t know she had any friends,” he said, his lips turned up in a sneer.
Kat smiled tightly. “Well, she can be a little… intense, at times, I’d have to agree.”
He drew in his breath and looked at her as if he wanted to call Ashlee something a lot, lot worse.
“Anyway,” Kat said gently, “I was just wondering if you can shed any light on the murder of her husband.”
“Why would I be able to?” he asked in a suspicious tone of voice. “I don’t know anything. It was my day off, and I was out doing my thing for the day. I got a call from Ashlee’s brother that evening, and that was the first I'd heard of it. He wanted me to substitute for Ashlee.” That was the first time his voice lightened.
“So, ‘doing your thing’. What does that mean? Where were you the morning of the graduation?”
His eyes narrowed again. “Why?”
Kat sighed. “Let me be straight with you, Randy. Your name has come up as a possible suspect, since it’s well known that you wanted Ashlee’s job.”
He gasped, and his eyes flamed with anger. “Who said that?” He lurched forward, and Rudy, sitting at Kat’s feet, stirred.
Kat kept a grip on Rudy’s collar, ready to set him loose on Randy if required. “Well, a couple of people have told me that you’d like the station to give you more stories, increasing your airtime to Ashlee’s level, that sort of thing.”
“Oh,” he said defensively, folding his arms over his chest. “And being ambitious in one’s career is now equated with being a murderer, is that it?”
“No, of course not,” Kat said calmly. “But you could also be considered a suspect in the case, because if Ashlee was unable to work, you’d be next in line for her job.”
Randy jumped to his feet. “That’s ridiculous! Before people started opening their mouths and talking about me, did they ever consider that I actually have an airtight alibi?”
“Oh, that’s good,” she said. She wanted to give the impression she was on his side, because the more agitated he became, the more she felt on edge. Rudy sat at attention, aware of the escalating situation. “So, tell me
, Randy, what’s your alibi?” Kat asked.
His face creased in anxiety. “I’d rather not say.” His eyes were full of worry, darting around the room as he started to pace back and forth, but he never looked at her.
“Randy,” she said gently, “I’m not law enforcement. But you know sooner or later the police will be questioning you, and they’re going to need proof of an alibi. You might as well tell me.”
He made a pained noise, and Rudy tensed his body in response. Then he flopped back down in his chair and mumbled something.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t hear you,” Kat said.
“I’m a nudist, all right?” Randy snapped. “I was at a private nudist beach out by the dam. There, are you happy now?” He looked away.
Murdered by News Page 12
