Read Online Stone Cold Dead by James W. Ziskin - Free Book Online Page A

Millicent called after me. “Mr. Short said he wanted to see you when you came in.”
    I froze. What did he want with me? I’d been keeping my nose clean for weeks, if you didn’t count getting sick at the high-school basketball game.
    “Can’t you tell him you haven’t seen me?” I asked.
    She shook her head. “Why would I do such a thing?”
    “I don’t know, to be nice just once?”
    She buzzed her boss inside the office. “Miss Stone to see you, Mr. Short.” Then she glanced at me and said, “You may go in now.”
    “Look what the cat dragged in,” mumbled Short as I entered. “I didn’t know Miss Stone still worked here. Haven’t seen her in weeks.”
    “Now, Artie, she’s been a good girl,” said Charlie. “She’s been covering the basketball games and the City Council meetings for me. Doing a darn good job, too.”
    Artie waved a hand at Charlie. “Our Miss Stone knows we’re old friends,” he said with a scowl, pointing at a chair for my comfort. “Isn’t that right, Miss Stone?”
    “Like Martin and Lewis,” I said.
    “I called you in here to discuss this missing-girl case,” he said, ignoring me. “What’s her name, Charlie?”
    “Darleen Hicks.”
    “Yes, Darleen Hicks. She’s a ninth grader who disappeared a couple of weeks ago. Charlie wants you to look into this. I’m not convinced, of course. Seems like a lot of nothing.”
    “By the way, what were you working on this morning?” asked Charlie. “I’ll reassign it.”
    “Actually, I was working on the Darleen Hicks story.”
    The two men exchanged glances. Charlie shrugged.
    “Don’t you know what your staff is doing?” Short frowned, taking a seat at his desk.
    Charlie threw me a withering look.
    “Darleen’s mother came to meet me and told me the whole story. She asked me to help her.”
    “What have you got so far?” asked Short as he shuffled through some papers.
    “I’ve interviewed the mother, the neighbors, and two of her teachers.”
    “What’s next?” he said, not even looking at me.
    “Her friends,” I said. “A couple of girls and her boyfriend.” I paused. “Then there’s her stepfather. And of course the sheriff.”
    Short rose from his desk and began digging through a filing cabinet against the wall. “I still don’t think there’s much of a story here,” he said, his back to me. “If I did, I’d put George on it, you can be sure of that. He wrote the first couple of stories on this when it happened. He says it’s a dead end. And I don’t like the idea of wasting manpower.” He turned halfway around to look at me. “Or should I say girl power in this case?”
    “There could be something to this disappearance,” said Charlie. “Let’s give her a week to dig around.”
    Artie Short yanked some papers from the filing cabinet and returned to his desk. He wrinkled his nose, as if something in the room smelled bad, and cocked his head.
    “I don’t like it,” he said, shaking the papers in my general direction. “But if she doesn’t neglect the basketball and other assignments . . .”
    That was our cue to leave. Charlie and I stood and made for the door. Short called after him, “I’m expecting her to deliver on this. I don’t like wild-goose chases.”
    Charlie and I filed out of Short’s office and headed toward the newsroom. We didn’t speak as we went, but we both knew a debriefing was in the offing. I followed him into his office and leaned against the bookcase.
    “Well, that wasn’t so hard,” he said. “Now you’d better get something on this story, or Artie will kill it.”
    “And if I do find something, he’ll hand the story back to George Walsh,” I said.
    Charlie had no answer for that. Instead he asked me what I had learned so far. I filled him in, saying I wasn’t even sure if she’d been the victim of foul play or if she’d simply run off.
    “Is there any legwork I can do for you? Anyone giving you trouble? Or maybe there’s someone you can’t