Justifiable (6 page)

“I have a dinner party planned for this weekend. Why don’t you come home and just stay over? Everyone misses you.”

“I’ll have to work this weekend just to get off Monday.”

“That’s ridiculous. There’s more than one person who can do the busy work.”

Busy work
? She kicked a dirty snowball out of her way. “I’m not a flunky. My job entails more than pushing papers around.”

“Why are you always so hostile, Kirsten?”

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m pretty damned sure you killed my mother for something she knew
. Kirsten forced herself to take a breath. Maintaining control of her emotions was paramount in dealing with her father, who would attack a weak prey. She pushed calm into her voice so she’d sound reasonable.

“I’m not being hostile. It’s cold and I haven’t had much rest. And discussing...Mom doesn’t bring out the best in me.”

“I understand, honey. I miss her, too.”  Her father allowed another one of those lapses in conversation to stretch for a bit. “Your mother would have been happier if you were here. Even if you didn’t want a position at my company, you’d make a hell of a lot more money at a prestigious Chicago law firm.”

“We’ve had this conversation one time too many already. You’re not looking at this from my point of view.”

“What I’m doing is protecting my family and my companies. It’s embarrassing that my daughter wants to work for slave wages and do grunt work...especially in a city like Philadelphia.”

Her father and Cecelia Van Gogh had the same skewed set of principles when it came to protecting an image.

Kirsten liked this city and believed in the work she did with law enforcement.

She’d go home on Monday and suffer standing next to him at her mother’s grave while she bided her time in hope of gaining the one thing that would bring her father to his knees.

A murder conviction.

She had to suck it up and play nice for now to keep him from realizing the sole reason for her taking this job wasn’t simply to thumb her nose at him. She needed this job in this city for any hope of finding out what had happened to the woman her mother had asked her to help.

Kirsten cleared her raw throat. “I’ll get home for a visit as soon as I can.”  One lie to combat so many of his. Now to stay in character so he knew he was talking to his argumentative daughter when she really didn’t care what he thought. “But I’m proud of what I do with the DA’s office. I would think you’d see putting away criminals as being positive for the Massey image.”

“You’re
proud
of being nothing more than a gopher after graduating Magna Cum Laude from one of the top law schools in the country? Any law enforcement grunt with a law degree could do what you’re doing. Massey women do
not
take pedestrian positions. You had an exceptional opportunity waiting for you here. Still do.”

That had worked to shift his attention. He never missed the chance to point out that she had a position in the legal department of his international communications firm waiting for her. If she let him continue, next he’d remind her that he paid the Pennsylvania Law School on the other side of Schuylkill River a hefty amount for Kirsten’s degree, which meant she owed him. After all, he’d threatened to cut off her financial aid when she told him she was moving to Philadelphia.

He’d thought since he controlled her trust fund and, thus, the checkbook, she’d come to her senses.

Big mistake.

“I’ve never been interested in corporate law,” she said, digging for her keys when she reached the parking lot. And, more specifically, she was not interested in
his
corporate legal issues. She
hated
anything to do with the heartless media business where the end justified the means – to quote her father’s philosophy – and wouldn’t have taken a position with his company for any enticement.

Admittedly, she’d gotten her stubborn genetic coding from this very man.

“Kirsten – ”

“I really have to go. I’m running late for a meeting. What time is the...event on Monday?”

Another long pause. “I’ve got a call holding. I’ll let you know as soon as I have the exact time.” 

The call ended, saving her from acting on the urge to shout, “Liar.”   He wouldn’t have called if he didn’t know the time of the new headstone placement down to the second. She could not give in to his badgering and guilt dumps. Not if her hunch was correct about her father’s culpability in her mother’s death.

Especially if she found the young woman Kirsten’s mother had sent to her for help. Right before the funeral, Kirsten had received a call from a frightened woman who’d given her name as Jane Doe and sounded like she was in her late twenties. Jane said she’d only talk in person and only if Kirsten could help her deal with the FBI. That’s when Kirsten knew in her heart that her mother hadn’t died of natural causes.

Kirsten had told Jane to meet her at an apartment that belonged to Elicia Halladay, the first person Kirsten had made friends with in the town where she’d attended college.

Her first and only friend outside the Massey influence.

After the funeral, it had taken until the next day to get away from her father’s house under the pretense that Kirsten needed time to mourn alone. When she’d arrived at Elicia’s apartment it was empty and both women were gone. 

Did she believe her father was capable of murder?

Yes.

And she’d make him pay for it.

Powerful men just fell that much harder when brought down by the law.

Finding Elicia was key to locating Jane Doe, if either one of them was still alive.

Kirsten spent some part of every day searching for her friend. Elicia trusted one person who lived here in Philly and, based on what Elicia had said, she’d never move away. Kirsten hadn’t found that person yet, but she would.

Right now, her job was investigating Sally Stanton’s murder and keeping the media – specifically Riley Walker – from interfering while she did. If Walker knew she was taking a closer look at the Stanton murder and agreed with him on several points, he’d dig harder than a dog after a juicy bone.

The minute he turned this case into anything news worthy, the mayor would come down on Cecelia who would make Kirsten’s life hell. She could have her choice of jobs with her degree, but Philadelphia was the only place she could find out what happened to Elicia and, possibly, Jane Doe.

Being a DA Investigator gave her access to information and suspecting foul play in her mother’s death gave her a legal reason to be searching for Elicia.

Kirsten wouldn’t let anyone – especially an ambitious newsman – cost her this position. Nor would she allow Sally Stanton to receive anything less than her best effort in the meantime.

Walker was no slouch when it came to reporting. He had a dangerous background in the media that someone like her father would respect. Not her. With twenty-four hour security squatting outside Judge Berringer’s residence, there was nothing Walker could get from digging around that location.

Walker had used his anchor position to film a special that helped Philly PD get some badly needed equipment, but Detective Turner wouldn’t talk to the media about a case either.

That meant Riley Walker had no more information than the rest of the reporters who’d left with Cecelia’s lame press release and he didn’t give two hoots about a welfare mother’s death. He’d only come to the press conference to harangue Cecelia about the mayor’s economic and tourism programs.

Riley Walker should be out of her way for a little while with the assault charges the newspaper reporter was probably filing at this very minute. The idea lifted her spirits until she wondered again how her father had gotten her new, unlisted cell phone number.

She had only given it to a few people, all of whom were either in the DA office or law enforcement.

Not for the first time, Kirsten wondered just how far her father’s powerful fingers could reach.

Chapter 7

Sunshine finally won the battle over fog, leaving the mid-morning skies bright blue beyond the windows of George Lehman’s eighth floor office.

Riley sat with his arms crossed, waiting on WNUZ’s general manager to finish his rant. 
Yada, yada, yada...you’re making my life difficult ... yada ... yada
...

Lehman walked to the window that looked out over the west side of downtown Philly where the traffic was probably mangled along Independence Boulevard. He raked his fingers through the few hairs left on his balding head. “I will not have this station in constant legal battles over bullshit.”

Not much to say to that, but Lehman didn’t want a reply.

Riley had a grudging respect for the general manager even if the man was as abrasive as sharkskin rubbed the wrong direction. Most of the staff and newsies hated the GM’s micromanaging, but the station had shown significant improvement since this hardass had taken over operations.

People rarely liked the person who had to make the tough calls. 

“I didn’t agree with bringing you in, Walker.”

“I know that. Think I’ve proved my value.”  Riley let that sink in. Lehman might not have agreed with WNUZ’s board of directors’ decision, but even he had to admit that Riley had increased revenues for the station.

But would it be enough to hold onto this job?

Lehman scratched the heavy jowl that belonged to a man who had enjoyed a daily quota of hard liquor for most of his sixty years. His beady eyes hadn’t lost any fire. “This stunt at City Hall could tank the ratings you gained.” 

“My special last week on child abuse didn’t hurt us.” Maybe Riley should keep his mouth closed, but he had to point out some silver in the cloud lining.

“That rating spike was Dr. Ziegler’s. Not yours. Now with this City Hall incident . . . ”

“
And
Dr. Ziegler is now our new expert on child abuse.”

Lehman released a terse sigh. “Fine. You came up with the special, but any doctor on child abuse – ”

“No. Ziegler’s different and you know it,” Riley argued. The woman had almost a sixth sense about knowing if a child had really been abused or not and how to get down to the truth.

“This isn’t about her.”  Lehman’s cold glare was low on patience. “This is about you not managing a volatile situation today.”  

Riley hadn’t caused the problem, but Lehman had to give the board a scapegoat. Regardless of what happened, Riley wouldn’t point a finger at Biddy.

Enough was enough. He asked, “What do you plan to do?”

Lehman paced back across the room and stopped at the side of his desk, tapping the files stacked on the surface with a long finger. “
No one
is worth putting this station in jeopardy. Your contract is clear as glass about confrontations.” 

Lehman was a bottom-line kind of guy who wielded his power over anyone who stumbled in his path, but Riley had
some
juice with the board of directors right now. This station hadn’t seen a consistent ratings hike in the two years prior to his showing up.

He was also a bottom-line kind of guy.

“You firing me?” Riley asked calmly.

The GM straightened to his full height and whispered something vile under his breath. “You deserve it. Should have expected something like this out of you after that last fiasco.” 

Lehman’s voice had trailed off but Riley caught the insinuation. He ignored the stab in his gut every time someone referred to Detroit as if he’d been going after ratings when he met with the Kindergarten Killer. He’d have gladly handed off the story to another station and lost his job without a peep if they’d saved Sammy Dell.

But Biddy’s future was at stake here, too, so Riley kept his eye on the goal and countered the slight with facts. “I’ve given you solid reporting for three months.”

Lehman held up his hands, palm out. “I actually argued against firing you.”

Huh? “Why?”

“Because it sets a precedent for a news man to get canned over confrontations. I don’t want anyone making my people in the field a target just to get them fired.”  He paused, facing Riley straight on. “I back all my people, but not if they’re reckless.” 

That isn’t what I’d call a vote of confidence, but it’s better than I expected
. “So the board agreed?”

“Not exactly. The board’s giving you a week’s suspension with no pay, but there’s no leeway on the terms of your probationary contract.”

“Fine.”  Riley could live with that. He still had a story to turn in that would only get stronger once he figured out the connection between the judge and Sally Stanton.

Lehman’s faced twisted with puzzlement. “You’re awfully confident for a guy one step away from getting canned.”

Riley shrugged. “I’m meeting my contract commitment so far.”  All he needed was for the station’s PR department to show some balls and for legal to negotiate a quick settlement with the newspaper. With that, Riley would be back in the anchor seat in a day, maybe two. This whole fiasco might play into his favor for gaining that last point.