Read Online Front Page Fatality by Lyndee Walker - Free Book Online

It’s leading page one.”
    “A lesser reporter might feel pressured by that,” I said. “I was just on my way to pester Aaron.”
    “Don’t let me keep you,” he said. “I’m looking forward to reading.”
    “You’re staying all day?”
    “This is a big story. Call me a micro-manager, but I’m going to see it before it goes. The TV has been all over it since early this morning, and I want to make sure that between your piece and Parker’s piece, we have them outdone.” Bob winked. “He has a good start on that. There have been reporters camped out at the pitcher’s family’s houses all day today, but no one’s said a word to any of them. Somehow, he’s on his way to interview both the guy’s parents and his in-laws. I love it.”
    Scooped on a news story by Mr. Baseball? And Shelby Taylor on standby to help me get my story out? Oh, yeah. This was shaping up to be a helluva day.
    “Find me something great, Nicey. Anything Charlie hasn’t had,” Bob patted my shoulder as he walked back toward his office. “You outdid yourself all week. But Ken and Barbie have gone out with the recycling.”
    “Twenty column inches of greatness, coming up.” I spun on my heel and hurried to my desk, grabbing a pen and the phone before I even sat down.
    Aaron’s uncharacteristic grouchiness told me his day wasn’t going any better than mine was.
    “I’m tired of talking to reporters about the accident last night,” he said when I asked how he was. “I wish I was out on my boat with a beer and a fishing pole. No offense.”
    “None taken. I don’t exactly want to be here, either. Has the daylight given you guys anything new? I saw you told Charlie they sent a unit from Quantico.” My inner Lois Lane did like the sound of that.
    “I told Charlie no such thing,” Aaron said. “She saw them in their damned logo-emblazoned hats and windbreakers and probably frigging boxers, out there picking through every black rock lining the shore of the James.”
    Damn. She’d been back to the scene. The only thing keeping me from pulling my hair out was the knowledge that FBI agents are about as welcoming of TV cameras as a PETA convention would be of Michael Vick.
    “Why are they here?”
    “Something about the police vessel that was involved.” He sounded huffy. “Like they think we did something wrong. Not that they’ve turned up anything. Their official report won’t be ready for weeks, probably, but they’re sticking with the scenario I gave you last night. Man, those guys are a pain in the ass, but don’t you dare quote me on that!”
    “I wouldn’t.” I laughed. “But why don’t you tell me how you really feel, detective?”
    “You have no idea.”
    “Do you have an official statement on their involvement?”
    “You’d have to call their field office to get that. All I can tell you is they have people working at the scene.”
    “Is there any chance the driver of DeLuca’s boat was under the influence?”
    “Unfortunately, we won’t ever know that.” Aaron’s tone turned somber. “There wasn’t enough left of any of the victims to check.”
    I swallowed hard, closing my eyes. “Oh,” was all I said.
    “Anything else?” he asked.
    “I need the service records and background on the officers who were killed,” I said. “Also contact information for the next of kin, and who will tell me what they were doing out there.”
    “If you check your fax machine, you will find you already have what I can give you from their personnel files and the families’ contact information,” he said. “You’re welcome. And call Commander Owen Jones over at the river unit. When I talked to him this morning, he was pretty shaken up, but he should be able to give you what you need.”
    “Thanks, Aaron. What would I do without you?”
    “Have a lot less fun at work? I hope you at least get tomorrow off.”
    “I may. You going fishing?”
    “Absolutely. I’ve had as much of this place as I can stand for