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“Ron.”
Ronald Kiefer. The ex-principal of West Knoll High. For some reason, she’d been certain it was a woman on the other end of the line. Anne Reade, maybe. Or Clarice Billings, possibly. Or maybe even one of Zora’s classmates . . . ?
“I hope Tanner recovers,” he said.
“Yeah . . .”
He lifted his brows in that “Anything else?” look, and Zora shook her head and walked toward the garage, hearing his office door close behind her. She wanted to double back and listen in some more, but he was onto her now, and if he caught her a second time, she doubted he would shrug off her interest.
Tomorrow, she told herself. She would see Tanner for herself.
* * *
Ellie’s cell phone buzzed while she was on her laptop, tucked into a small anteroom at the station that was used by personnel who didn’t have actual desks. Space was at a premium, and twice while she was writing, someone looked in to see if the room was available. She would lock the door, if she could, but, alas, it was considered a common-area room.
Glancing at the number, she saw it was Joey. “God,” she muttered, looking over her words. It was a chronicle of Tanner’s life. She wanted to be the first to write a personal background story and therefore make a case for being the one to present it on air. She didn’t have time for Joey right now.
But, Jesus. Both Joey and Michael were always in trouble, and Mom and Oliver had just given up on them. Ever since they’d both fallen deep in lust with Nia Crassley and damn near killed each other over her. Luckily, in true Crassley style, Nia, after having sex with both of them, though not at the same time—God, she hoped not at the same time—had moved on to a local West Knoll businessman who’d since gone belly up after Nia and her sticky-fingered family had sucked him dry of all his material possessions. That was the truth of the Crassleys. They were all awful. Ellie had told both her brothers to get rid of her and get out of West Knoll, and she was pretty sure they’d done neither.
Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.
It was an irksome alarm-sound ringtone she’d designated for both of her brothers.
“Hey, there,” she finally answered, gathering her annoyance under control. Her eyes were still on her narrative. Too folksy? She hadn’t had a folksy relationship with Tanner, but she wanted to infuse the story with warmth. She thought of Delta, and her expression fell into a scowl. This was her fault. If she hadn’t actually stabbed him, she was involved somehow, Ellie just knew it.
Joey greeted her, “Fuck, Ell, that doctor friend of yours was stabbed in his clinic!”
“I know. Was there something else? I’m trying to put the last finishing touches on—”
“Nia’s pregnant. Doesn’t know if it’s me or Michael.”
She sat back into her chair. “What about that other guy you said she was seeing?”
“She ditched him three months ago.”
“And you and Michael took up with her again?” She was practically shrieking. Her brothers were morons. Morons! She loved them fiercely, but they were absolute idiots.
“She’s hot” was the somewhat sullen answer. “What are we supposed to do? Turn her down when she comes crying to our door?”
“Well, no. Of course not. I wouldn’t want you to do that,” she said sarcastically.
The twins lived in an apartment together. They’d both dropped out of college and gotten jobs with a local moving company. The idea of a ménage à trois with Nia was starting to sound far more likely than she’d hoped.
“We’re going to tell Mom and Dad. Just wanted to let you know if Dad kills us, that’s why.”
“Get a paternity test. That girl . . . that whole family are grifters, cheats, and thieves. Make sure the results are yours. Just, for once in your life, be careful.”
She clicked off. She didn’t have time for this shit right now. Tanner was in the hospital, and Delta had put him there. She was going to prove it.
She worked for hours. Went home. Worked on it some more.
By the following morning, she had a well-written report on Dr. Tanner Stahd, if she did say so herself, and she was determined to read it on camera. That meant getting the okay from Rob, and she wasn’t quite sure what that was going to take. Sleeping with him? He was tight with the wealthy wife, but maybe given the right incentive? Coco had accused her of trying to sleep her way to the top, and though Ellie had been outraged, it had mostly been for show. If she wanted to use sex to get ahead, so be it. Didn’t mean she didn’t like the guys she slept with; she did. Sure, it would be terrific if Rob would put her on screen on merit alone, but that was a pipe dream.
Nevertheless, she went into the station and waited in Rob’s office with her story. “Read this,” she told him when he entered a few moments later, thrusting the pages at him.
Rob took them, glanced through the first few paragraphs, and his brows lifted. “Okay,” he said.
“Okay?” she asked cautiously. Was this the green light?
