Casey grinned sheepishly. “I may have overstated our connection,” she confessed. “My cousin, Angela Hart, works with her. They’re super-good friends, but I’ve never actually met her.”
Laurie watched as Casey put on large dark sunglasses, twisted her hair up, and pulled a Yankees cap low over her forehead. “It was bad enough being recognized at the mall,” she said bitterly.
As Laurie rushed to Brett’s office, she dictated a reminder to herself to call Charlotte to see if she had any insider information. She also made a mental note: Casey Carter was willing to stretch the truth if it served her purposes.
6
Brett’s secretary, Dana Licameli, gave Laurie a sympathetic look as she waved her into what felt in that moment like the gallows. “Beware,” she warned. “I haven’t seen him on a tear like this since his daughter came back from Europe with a pierced nose.”
Brett immediately swiveled in his chair to face her. “I thought with your extended sojourn from the office, you might return with a tan, smelling of rum and sunscreen.” He glanced at his watch. “Nearly three hours at 21 Club? We should all be so lucky. Don’t blame your staff, either. They did their best to cover for you, but I made Dana sneak a peek at your calendar on your assistant’s computer.”
Laurie opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She hated the idea that she had subjected Jerry and Grace to Brett’s abuse during her absence. If she said what was truly on her mind, all three of them would be out of their jobs. She finally found words she was able to force herself to mutter. “My apologies, Brett. I obviously forgot we had a meeting scheduled for this afternoon.”
Her dry delivery seemed to calm him down. He even gave her a half smile. At sixty-one by her last count, Brett was still quite handsome. With a full head of iron-gray hair and a strong jaw, he had the look of one of the many news anchors he’d hired over the years.
“Don’t be so snarky. You know there was no meeting. But you’ve been avoiding me, and we both know why.”
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Laurie fibbed, tucking a long strand of light brown hair behind one ear. She had just been waiting for that darned release from the Texas widow, so she could tell Brett they were officially ready to roll. “I really thought we had our ducks in a row on the medical-professor case. The widow was dragging her feet, but I was sure she’d come around.”
“You mean she didn’t? You told me she was just too busy with those rug rats of hers to get to the post office.”
Laurie was positive she had not referred to Lydia’s boys as rug rats. Instead she said mildly, “She apparently had second thoughts or was leading me on the whole time.”
“I bet she’s afraid to do it,” Brett said. “Maybe she’s guilty.”
One of the hardest parts of Laurie’s job was convincing all of the key players to participate in the show. Normally, she tried to appear so gentle and nice that it was difficult for people to say no, but tougher tactics were sometimes called for. She wasn’t always proud of the maneuvers she had to use, but a single missing piece of the puzzle pulled the entire production apart.
“I think so, too. She said she consulted two lawyers and has too much to lose.”
“Well, that makes her guilty in my book.”
“I happen to agree in this instance,” Laurie said, “but her mind was definitely made up. And a special about her husband’s unsolved murder wouldn’t be compelling without her on camera.”
“You really are trying to ruin my day, aren’t you?” Brett’s tone had become sarcastic.
“Not intentionally, no. But the good news is that my sojourn, as you called it, has paid off with a new lead. I just met with Casey Carter.”
“Crazy Casey? I heard about her on the news last night. Was she wearing one of the outfits she bought at the mall?”
“I didn’t ask. I was too busy listening to her claims that she’s innocent. And she laid out five alternative suspects. It could be great for Under Suspicion. Wrongful conviction stories are all the rage.”
“But only when they’re wrongful.”
“I know. It was just a first meeting. I still have a lot of work to do, but at least she’s talking to me and not anyone else.”
“Honestly, in this case, I don’t care whether the gal is a murderer or not. Her name alone will be a ratings bonanza.” Laurie expected Brett to give her the third degree over details she didn’t have yet. But instead of pressing her for information about the case, he simply said, “Well, I hope this one actually sticks. Fisher Blake Studios hasn’t survived all these years by funding false starts.”
“Message received,” Laurie said, trying to conceal her relief. “Was an update on the next special the only reason you wanted to see me?”
“Of course not. We need to talk about the elephant in the room: whether we like it or not, Alex is gone, and you need a new host.” Brett reached across the desk and handed her a piece of paper. “Lucky for you, I’ve got the perfect man for the job.”
As Laurie stared at the sheet of ivory stock paper in her hand, all she could think about was Alex. The way she knew, the first time she saw his blue-green eyes look into the camera behind black-rimmed glasses, that he was the perfect host for Under Suspicion. How he had jumped into the car with her without hesitation after her father was admitted to the hospital with heart palpitations. Their first dinner alone at Marea. How he had run on instinct to her and Timmy when the man who killed Greg tried to murder them, too. All those hours spent bouncing case theories around over a bottle of red wine. The feeling of his lips against hers.
She realized in that instant that Brett was right. She had been avoiding her boss, and it wasn’t because she was waiting for a piece of paper from some woman in Texas. Just as she had kept hoping that the widow would come around, she realized that part of her had been hoping that Alex might, too. Maybe his law practice would settle down temporarily. Or maybe once she had a case in hand, he’d be too intrigued to resist. Or maybe he would just miss working with her.
But now the idea of Alex leaving the show was real. She was looking at a résumé that belonged to an actual person with an actual name: Ryan Nichols. Magna cum laude from Harvard Law School. A Supreme Court clerkship. Courtroom experience as a federal prosecutor. It wasn’t until she got to the entry about his talking head experience that she connected Ryan’s name to the face she’d seen all over the cable news circuit lately.
In her mind, she previewed a recording that didn’t exist yet. Under Suspicion, featuring Ryan Nichols. No, she thought, that doesn’t sound right. The name should be Alex Buckley.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Brett’s gruff voice. “I know, Ryan’s perfect. He’ll be here Friday at four to make it official. You can thank me later.”
As she turned to leave, Laurie didn’t think the knot in her stomach could feel any thicker. Then she heard Brett’s voice again behind her. “And we’ll talk about Crazy Casey then, too. Can’t wait to hear the details.”
Great. She had two days to come up with a detailed pitch of Casey Carter’s wrongful conviction claim, even though she had no idea whether the woman was innocent or a killer. She needed to call Charlotte.
7
Laurie had just taken a seat on the wine-colored velvet sofa in Ladyform’s luxurious lobby when Charlotte appeared through a set of white double doors. She rose and gave Charlotte a quick hug.
“We’re the same height today,” Charlotte observed cheerfully.
“Thanks to my three-inch heels and your flats,” Laurie said. Charlotte was just shy of five-ten. She was slightly stocky but seemed confident in her own skin. Her chin-length light brown hair neatly framed her round, makeup-free face. Laurie thought of her as the perfect representative of her family’s company.