Read Online First Time Killer by Alan Orloff, Zak Allen - Free Book Online Page B

something. Most of the time, I don’t put them through. It would mess up the show if they were always on. So I talk to them, rag on them, whatever. Keeps me amused. Keeps them happy.”
    “You’re a stronger man than I am,” Rick said. “Hey, I almost forgot about Dimitri.”
    J.T. hit himself in the forehead lightly with the ball. “Oh, right. I talk to him more than my mother. Have you checked out his website lately? There’s a ton of info there. That’s probably where the Nazi Hunter found out about Livvy.”
    Dimitri was a self-proclaimed Afternoon Circus expert and historian. “I’ve never seen it.”
    “Really? Never?” J.T. seemed amazed. “I’d put Dimitri in a class by himself. He knows so much about our show, we should consider hiring him. He knows more than I do, for sure.”
    “Maybe we should get him to be our producer,” Rick said, deadpan. He stared at J.T.
    J.T.’s eyes flashed, then he broke into a grin. “You’re joshing.” His smile faltered. “Right? I mean, I love working here.”
    Rick kept the stare going, then softened. What would J.T. do without the Circus ? “You’re safe, J.T. Just keep doing your usual bang-up job. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
    As Rick turned to leave, J.T. said, “Hey, Adams asked me about these guys, too. Wanted me to arrange a meeting, get everyone together so he could question them. You want in on that?”
    “Sure. That ought to be interesting. Or at least entertaining,” Rick said. “Do me a favor, though. Don’t invite the Nazi Hunter. I’ll give Adams his name myself.”

C HAPTER 13
    G OING TO THE movie theater in the middle of the morning aroused long-forgotten feelings of guilt, of all those times Rick ditched his junior English class and caught the latest flick at the discount theater right off campus. Two bucks, with student ID. He always figured what he learned about the human condition from watching the films was more valuable than learning how to write compositions or how to not split infinitives.
    Of course, today was different. On this morning, no movie was being shown. Marty Williamson had called an all-hands meeting and there wasn’t a room at the station large enough to seat all the hands. Actually there might have been, but Rick believed Marty enjoyed renting out the theater because it made him feel like a big shot. Like renting the entire theater for your kid’s birthday party.
    Forty or so employees of WTLK sat in the stadium-style seats. Sales reps, secretaries, on-air talent. Engineers. A dozen interns. The entire theater buzzed as everyone waited for Marty to address the troops. All-hands meetings were reserved for the bombshells. Great or horrible. Some kind of news that couldn’t be delivered via email. Six months ago, when Marty detailed the plans to be sold to SatRad, the get-together had been a giddy affair. A couple months later, tragedy struck and Marty had broken the news about the Rhino’s death. This one also would be a sober affair. The death of another Circus member.
    Rick and J.T. sat together toward the back of the theater. Only the part-time guy who worked in the mailroom sat behind them. Marty, decked out in a dark blue pin-striped suit that accentuated his spindly build and made him seem paler than usual, stood at the podium in front of the jumbo-sized white screen. Flanked by Sales Manager Lassita DuJuan on his right, and Celia on his left. Marty tapped the microphone twice. A small feedback squeal rang out. “Can everyone hear me?”
    A wave of mumbles rose up. “Good. I’m glad everyone could make it this morning.” They’d pulled Garth the Goth out of studio, leaving just a few interns back at the station. A Best Of the Afternoon Circus was being aired. Rick figured Celia had picked out the episode containing the original First Time call. Probably thought the listeners could never get enough of J.T. puking.
    “As you all know, a member of our radio family was tragically killed.” Marty