Murder in the Heartland

Chapter 2

I don't know how long I sat at the kitchen table brooding. I should have followed up on the rumors I'd heard about a second candidate. I should have grabbed the phone and tracked down their source. But I'd carelessly sat back and let the rumors swirl around me without taking action.

Chewing my lip, I glanced down at the Times. The newspaper lay in the center of the table. Obviously, Dad had read Miriam's story before heading to the office.

A lungful of air escaped me. My father would never rant at me. That wasn't his style, but deep down I knew missing this story had to hurt him. He was proud of our newspaper and did everything he could to keep current with local happenings. I usually did too, but this time, by hanging back, I'd let him down.

I scanned Miriam's name on the byline and wondered how she'd pulled off such a scoop? Most politicians play fair with reporters. They depend on us as much as we do on them. An angry press might lead to negative stories. Reporters were only human after all.

But not at our paper. The Gazette earned high marks for fair play. That was all down to Dad. He had once even pulled me off a murder story because he thought I was too close to the victim which could compromise my objectivity.

I rose from my chair, wandered to the counter, picked up the coffee pot, and refilled my mug. Just as I sat the pot back down on the burner, the phone rang. I snatched the receiver up.

It was Ginger Black on the line, my best friend and fellow sleuthing enthusiast. She operated the most popular beauty salon in four counties. "Carly is going to make such an outstanding mayor," she trilled.

"That is if she's elected," I shot back. At that moment, I doubted she had my vote.

Ginger's tone was puzzled. "I thought you'd be thrilled Carly's running. What gives?"

I rubbed my brow. "Nothing. Late night, that's all." No way was I going to confess, not even to my best friend, that I'd blown this major a news story.

"And how about that murder?" Ginger pressed on. "Are you covering that story too?"

"Yes, thank's to Betty's heads up, I made it to the farm shortly after the body was found."

"Well, I can't wait to read your write ups today. Just think, you're coming out with two huge stories. You've gotta be stoked."

I closed my eyes and let Ginger's words circulate through my roiling mind and realized Ginger was right. I could have both stories written by the time our paper came out. If I called Carly right now, she'd probably give me enough for a decent write up. Maybe she even had a headshot she could drop off at the office to go along with the piece.

If I hustled, our paper could be just as up-to-date as the Times. And hustling was something I excelled at.

So the minute I disconnected with Ginger, I whipped out the phone book, made a note of Carly's phone number, and let my fingers fly.

When the woman answered she didn't sound much like the Carly I'd talked to countless times. There was an edge to her words that was hard to miss. "I suppose you've called to complain about the story in the Times," Carly snapped. "You're wasting your time. Miriam and I are cousins. Distant ones, maybe, but cousins nonetheless. And blood counts for more than water as you already know."

My jaw sagged. Carly had served as the clerk in the mayor's office for at least ten years. I'd never found her anything but pleasant. Who was this new, hostile woman, and where had she come from?

"Miriam is going through a rough patch," she rushed on. "She needed a break, and I gave her one, so deal with it."

I cast my gaze to the window and tried to picture Miriam sunk in a sea of troubles but I couldn't quite get there. I suspected Miriam was much better at drowning others than slipping under the water herself.