“DeeDee, could you come to my office, please?” Jeff’s voice rang out.
“Our master’s voice,” I said to Ren.
I heard Ren laugh as I headed for Jeff’s office. “You’ve got to admit that he’s easier to take than Kate,” I heard him say. Although I felt a little guilty, I silently agreed with him.
Jeff was in his usual position hunched over a computer. “Hi, Jeff,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
“Just a second,” he said, holding up one finger. “Let me finish this thought.” He pecked for a few more moments. “All right, that’s my editorial for tomorrow,” he said, rubbing his temples wearily. “Damn but it’s going to be hard without Kate here. I’m going to have to write three editorials each week instead of one. So I hear you were with Fritz Scheider last night?” Jeff inquired.
“Yes,” I said.
“What were you doing with him?”
“Having coffee.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Yes…” I still had no idea of what Jeff wanted from me.
“Suppose we could get a story out of this?”
“A story?”
Jeff leaned toward me, his face more excited than I’d ever seen it. “Yes, an eye witness account of what happened. You know, that Scheider guy is a pretty big wheel over at Kutrate Kemical. Might make a nice write up to describe how he went down right in front of you.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” I began as I desperately tried to figure out a way to get out of writing the story Jeff was describing. I couldn’t tell him that it was not only tacky; it was also disturbing and definitely not anything I’d want to write about. “It all happened so quickly.”
“But you were there,” Jeff said, “and we need filler. Write it like a column. If it’s any good, who knows? It might lead to some regular kind of column.”
“I’m already doing the diet column,” I said, stalling for time.
“No, you’re not. I thought about it and I don’t like the diet column anymore. It’s boring. Write about Fritz instead.”
“I don’t know…I’m not really comfortable writing about Fritz Scheider and what happened to him. It was awful.”
Jeff stared at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. “I still don’t get what you two were doing together.”
“Having coffee,” I repeated firmly.
“And?”
“And nothing,” I said. “Just coffee.”
Caroline Osborn poked her head into Jeff’s office. “Hey, Jeff, I’m heading out to cover a fire on the other side of town. Do you still want me to do the story on the old lady who got mugged too?”
“Yeah. And drop by the police station too. See what’s going on with that hit and run.”
Caroline sighed elaborately. “Want me to pick up your laundry or any groceries too, Jeff? You need to hire someone ASAP.” Her heavily mascaraed eyes fell on me. “What about DeeDee here? Why don’t you make her full-time?”
Jeff looked like Caroline had just suggested that he name me Prom Queen of the newspaper. “Her?” he said, somewhat ungraciously I thought.
“Why not? You hired her part-time and we need more warm bodies. And she doesn’t out and out suck at writing.”
It wasn’t the greatest compliment I’d ever had but it wasn’t the worst either. “I’d love to work full-time,” I said although I wasn’t sure if Steve would be thrilled. But maybe things would be better if I was at the paper forty hours a week. I’d be more of a team player, more of a real journalist. Plus I’d make more money, always a good thing.
Jeff looked at me doubtfully. “I don’t know…I was kind of thinking we could eke by with what we have.”
“Well, we can’t eke by,” Caroline informed him. “Give her the fluff pieces so I don’t have to do those on top of everything else. Hire DeeDee or I’m walking and I mean that, Jeff,” she said in a threatening tone. “This is ridiculous. The paper has more money now that Kate’s gone so you can afford to hire DeeDee full-time on what you’re paying her. If it bothers you so much, make her job temporary in case she doesn’t work out.”
It was like I wasn’t even in the same room. I cleared my throat. “Don’t either one of you want to ask me if I want to work full-time?”
Both Jeff and Caroline turned and looked at me. “Why wouldn’t you?” Jeff asked. “You’re always asking for more assignments. If you were here full-time, I guarantee I’d keep you busy. Here’s your first story: write about Fritz Scheider and make it snappy.”
“That’s right, I heard you were with Fritz last night.” Caroline tilted her head and looked at me doubtfully. “You certainly get around, DeeDee.”
“Do you know Fritz Scheider too?” I asked.
Caroline winked at me. “I get around too,” she said. “Fritz is a doll. I hope he doesn’t croak.”
Oh, what the heck. If Jeff was going to look at me as a temporary employee, why couldn’t I look at him as a temporary employer? “All right,” I agreed. “I’ll work full-time but let’s definitely make this on a trial basis. If it doesn’t work out then no hard feelings and I can go back to being part time, right?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Jeff said.
“Will I make more money?”
“You’ll be working twice as many hours so obviously you’ll be making twice as much money,” Jeff pointed out.
That wasn’t what I meant. I opened my mouth to ask if I’d be making more money per hour but Caroline beat me to the punch. “She means will she get a raise. She’d better, Jeff. What you’re paying her is pathetic.”
“You want me to make her salaried?” Jeff sounded horrified.
“No, but give her at least twelve bucks an hour! Good grief, no one can live on what you’re paying her.”
“Our customer service gal makes the same and she lives on it quite nicely,” Jeff said piously. “Perhaps she just has better money management skills than DeeDee.”
“Or perhaps she has a rich boyfriend, which she does,” Caroline corrected.
“DeeDee has a rich husband.”
“I do not!” This talking about me like I wasn’t in the room was getting irritating.
“Isn’t your husband a college professor?” Jeff asked. “They make out like bandits. What do they work, twenty hours a week for some ridiculous salary? You’re doing fine.”
I knew that I should have gotten up and walked out the door but I didn’t. I wanted that full-time job and even though it was neither Jeff’s nor Caroline’s business how much money Steve made, I found myself correcting their delusional thinking. “Steve works for a small, private college that isn’t known for paying big bucks,” I said hotly. “We aren’t rich.”
Jeff looked at me speculatively. After a few moments he said, “I can do twelve an hour but that’s it. And don’t expect a raise next year.”
Again, I should have walked out his office door but I didn’t. In addition to wanting the full-time job, I also wanted to do some sleuthing and find out who killed Kate Weston. The best way to do that would be to remain an employee at the newspaper. “Deal,” I agreed. I didn’t know how long I’d last at the paper but for the time being it was obviously the best place to be if I wanted to solve Kate’s mysterious death.
“Then get to work,” Jeff ordered. “Fifteen hundred words on your dinner with Fritz.”
“It wasn’t dinner—it was coffee and dessert.”
“Whatever, DeeDee! Just write about it and get it back to me pronto!”
Caroline and I left Jeff’s office and as we moved back toward our cubicles, Caroline patted me somewhat patronizingly on the shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me, DeeDee. I would have done that for anyone. Now don’t disappoint me and show me what a real journalist you can be. You go, girl!” With a final little ta-ta wave, she took a left toward her desk. I sat down at my own desk, my head spinning. Had that really just happened?
Ren leaned back. “You look like you’re in shock. Everything okay?”
<
br /> I nodded. “Jeff made me full-time.”
“Good for you! Now you’re really a part of the jungle.”
Although Ren was joking, I sensed that there was a lot of truth in his statement. The newsroom did feel like a jungle much of the time and I was either the newest animal or the fresh meat. Only time would tell which.
Chapter Fifteen
It wasn’t easy to write about what had happened to Fritz but after struggling over the piece for an hour or so, I came up with something that I didn’t think was too horrible. I still didn’t think it was a good idea or tasteful at all for the newspaper to feature an article on what it was like to sit with someone as they collapsed but since it was Jeff’s newspaper, I figured that it was up to him to decide what he wanted. I thought the diet idea was better but, again, it wasn’t my call. I sent the piece to Jeff and then just sat for a few minutes staring at the grey fabric walls of my cubicle. What had Fritz been about to tell me before he passed out? Why were Kate and Fritz business partners? How could I find out?
What I needed to do was find out more about Kate. I really knew precious little about my late boss. I knew she was married and I knew she had an obnoxious personality but that was about it. Maybe I should pay a condolence call on her husband and see what I could discover.
I frowned over the thought of doing that. It seemed so cynical, so self-serving to visit Kate’s husband paying condolences that I didn’t really feel. On the other hand, I was sure that Kate’s husband would want to know who killed his wife just as much—if not more—than everyone else did. But how could I find out where Kate’s husband lived? I couldn’t ask Jeff or Ren or anyone else in the newsroom without raising a whole lot of uncomfortable questions.
Natalie. The receptionist/customer service representative/whatever the heck else was on her job description would be able to tell me who Kate’s husband was and where he lived. Plus I wouldn’t be afraid to ask her because there was nothing intimidating about Natalie, something that most definitely couldn’t be said about the majority of the rest of the employees at the Kemper Times. Ren didn’t scare me but I did sense a lot of frustration emanating from Ren that made him seem on edge more often than not. He didn’t strike me as the violent type, but he really did seem like he was about to blow and I didn’t want to be the one to trigger that volcano.
After Jeff approved my story on my meeting with Fritz, he gave me another assignment: Eden Academy’s school board was meeting to introduce their new director. Yikes. “I had a rather unfortunate experience at Eden Academy,” I told Jeff. “I was there when their previous director died.”
“Craig Grey? He didn’t die. He got canned.”
“The one before Craig. Frank Ubermann.”
Jeff waved his hand dismissively. “Ancient history. No one will even remember you. Besides, if you want to be a reporter you’re going to have to get used to going to places where you might not be totally welcome. I need about four hundred words and get it to me before five. Thanks, DeeDee.”
Grabbing my purse, I walked carefully down the narrow flight of stairs that led to the front reception area. As usual, Natalie was seated at her desk. “Hi, Natalie,” I said, pausing on my way toward the door.
“Well, hello, DeeDee! I was just thinking about you!”
“You were?”
“The oldies station played something by Steve and Eydie Gorme and I remembered you said your husband’s name is Steve. Am I right?” I nodded, knowing what was coming next. “That makes you Steve and DeeDee! That is so cute!”
It was cute, the first thousand times I’d heard it. However, I hadn’t heard it lately since Steve and Eydie aren’t exactly household names anymore. “I’m surprised you know who Steve and Eydie are,” I remarked.
“Oh, I love the oldies,” Natalie said. “Besides, I’m fifty-four so I remember them, sort of.”
“Those were the days,” I agreed. I changed the subject a little awkwardly. “I was thinking about Kate just now,” I said.
Natalie’s smile faded. “I think about her a lot,” she admitted.
“She was married, wasn’t she?”
“Uh huh. Her husband used to work on the newspaper but he left a long time ago.”
“Is it true that they didn’t have any kids?”
“No, it was just the two of them.”
I shivered at the thought of being left alone if Steve died before me and was grateful for Jane and Tyler and that Steve has them too if I predecease him. “Where did they live?” I asked in what I hoped was a casual tone.
“Over on Claremont. Do you know that big white house with the white lions in front of them and the dolphin fountain?”
Everyone in Kemper knew the White House as it was called. The owners had ripped out the lawn and replaced it with shiny white rocks that were surrounded by a six foot high white metal fence. It was positively blinding when the sun hit all the white just right. “Yes. That’s Kate’s house?” Somehow I had pictured her living in a one bedroom apartment with cracked plaster and a hot plate instead of a real stove but that might have been because I was mentally projecting her Kemper Times office into her private life. “That’s a mighty big house,” I added. Either Kate was paid at least ten times what everyone else was paid on the newspaper or her husband had a very good job.
“It is,” Natalie agreed, “and you should see the inside. You think the outside is white? Wear sunglasses if you ever stop over there. Every single thing inside is whiter than white. It’s like someone had a fixation with Mr. Clean. Kate had the office Christmas party there once and I spent the entire evening petrified that I’d spill my glass of red wine on all that white shag carpeting.”
“Shag carpeting? I didn’t know anyone still had shag carpeting.”
“I know. I didn’t really like it but Kate was so proud of it.” Natalie’s large eyes welled with tears. “You know, I never liked Kate but no one should die the way that lady did. I can’t imagine what kind of person would do that.”
Neither could I. “It’s awful,” I agreed. “What’s also awful is that whoever did it is still walking the streets. As far as I know, the police haven’t found a suspect.”
“Well, at least it’s not one of us,” Natalie said.
“How do you know that?” I questioned.
“If it was one of us, the police would be hanging around here a lot more,” Natalie pointed out. “They questioned everybody, did all their evidence stuff and we haven’t seen anyone in a blue uniform since. Doesn’t that tell you that it can’t be one of us?”
“I certainly hope you’re right,” I said soberly. “It scares me to death to think that someone who works for the newspaper might have killed Kate but on the other hand, it was such a bizarre crime that it almost seems like it would have had to have been an inside job, doesn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“She was suffocated by a plumber’s helper.”
“So?”
I waved my hands helplessly in the air, not wanting to come out and say that if anyone chose a plumber’s helper as a murder weapon, it seemed to me that they had to work for the newspaper. It was too fitting that Kate’s irritating voice and horrible laugh had finally been silenced by such a utilitarian and apropos object. “It just seems odd to me,” I finally said.
“Not to me. I’m guessing that whoever killed her grabbed the first object they found to do her in,” Natalie surmised. “They probably whacked her on the head and then grabbed the plumber’s helper and taped it to her mouth in case she came to and started screaming. It’s very likely that they didn’t even intend to kill her.”
Natalie was speaking calmly, as if she was talking about a new recipe for pineapple upside down cake that she wanted to try. A sneaking suspicion crept into my mind. Was it possible that Natalie might have killed Kate? Kate was always spying on the poor woman and listening to her conversations. But could Natalie have a connection to Kutrate Kemicals? “But she was strangled,” I said. “That’s what k
illed her. The plumber’s helper was like a bizarre afterthought.”
Natalie considered my statement. “Maybe,” she finally said. “Or maybe not. Who knows what the killer was thinking? The end result is the same. Now where are you off to, DeeDee?”
“Eden Academy to cover the school board meeting. Then I might go over to Kutrate Kemicals to see my daughter.” And to learn if there was any news about Fritz.
Natalie looked interested. “Oh, really? I used to work there too.”
“What did you do there?” I asked.
“I was Bernard Morton’s secretary for about a year before I quit. Too high pressure and, believe it or not, the pay was about as bad as it is at the newspaper.” Natalie laughed. “At least for the hourly staff. I hear the salaried staff does pretty well. Someone needs to tell the employers of this town that people cannot live on what they pay.”
“That’s for sure,” a voice said from behind me. Caroline came down the steps and joined us. “I hope you appreciate how I stuck up for you, DeeDee,” she added. “I know that you’d never ask for more money.” She glanced over at Natalie. “I got DeeDee a full-time job on the newspaper and a raise,” she bragged, snapping her fingers between Natalie’s and my heads. “It happened just like that!”
“A temporary full-time job,” I clarified. Caroline’s attitude was annoying, like I was incapable of doing anything for myself, which might have been true but it was still irritating. “If it doesn’t work out, it’s not going to last.”
“You’re a bit of a Negative Nellie,” Caroline remarked. “You need to lighten up, DeeDee. Being a downer is going to get you absolutely nowhere.”
“Well, I should be going,” I said, holding up my reporter’s notebook. “I’ve got a story to do.”
“Thanks to me!” Caroline said. “Tell you what—you can take me out to lunch next week. How does that sound?”
I laughed and did a semi-nod and shake of my head as I walked away. True, Caroline had spoken up to Jeff and I suppose had been the one to cinch my promotion for me but she was acting like she’d just given me a winning lottery ticket, something that I wasn’t at all sure my new job at the newspaper would turn out to be.
Black and White and Dead All Over: A Midlife Crisis Mystery (Midlife Crisis Mysteries) Page 16
