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If he’d been one of the principals, I’d have steered clear. But someone who escaped might just view me in a positive light. Even if he didn’t, there was a good chance he was gun-shy about certain topics.
I got past the assistant by using my name and the words murder investigation.
He answered quickly, which was promising.
I told him the background — not mentioning his former employer, because why rub it in?
Right off the bat, he tried, “That’s not—”
I didn’t need or want him to tell me what it wasn’t. I could have guessed that from the start, even if the media relations person hadn’t droned on about it.
“Your opportunity to establish your company as cooperating with the pursuit of justice—”
“We do. By following the law—”
“—rather than living down to the image of a self-serving, even cold-hearted corporation that—”
“Our lawyers—”
“And lawyering up.”
I should have skipped that last line. It probably reminded him of experiences at his former employer.
With him being quiet, I figured the best thing I could do right now was let him work through the benefits and drawbacks.
“As much as we would like to assist in finding justice for our customer — or anyone — we cannot abandon our obligation to preserve the privacy of our customers.”
“Your customer is dead.” Perhaps not technically true, if Brenda was right that the Kenyons gave it to him. But this wasn’t the time to get bogged down in technicalities. “Murdered. And you have the power—”
“I don’t.” The two flat words closed the door. If you don’t learn to recognize closed doors as a journalist, you spend a lot of time hitting your head against them. I have the battle scars to prove it. “I can relay your request and contact information to the appropriate department.”
“Please do.” It was a ‘t’ to cross that wouldn’t get anywhere, but necessary. “I’ll let you know when our report runs, detailing your response.”
The last line wasn’t necessary. But it felt good to deliver it. Who among us is always above petty?
But, having disconnected, my petty faded and the fact remained that I didn’t have the information.
Darn.
I could set Jennifer on the trail... But how many times had I told her not to hack? And each time because I didn’t want her to get in trouble.
Nothing had changed there. Not to mention the other demands on her time now.
I wasn’t asking Jennifer to try to crack this information.
But there might be another way....
Before I could consider whether this was the time to try to deploy that other way, my phone rang.
It was Audrey, sitting just a few feet away. I looked over. She gestured for me to pick up.
When I did, I realized she’d added me to a call with Mike.
“...Hartville wrapping up all those isn’t fair,” he was saying. “They’re down in the southeast corner of the state, so of course they’ve got all those firsts. That’s the direction the wagon trains came from and then the railroads and all those other events that spawned town-building and bar-needing.”
“Are you still lamenting that?” I asked him.
“Yeah. But then I heard about what you guys were saying yesterday and it got me thinking maybe something in the realm of murder and justice would work. Not current, but do we have any claim to fame by way of some of the old-time outlaws?”
