Page 66 of Dead Air
"Turn it off." Lawson stood in the kitchen doorway, coffee mug gripped tightly in her hand. Three hours of restless sleep had done nothing to diminish yesterday's exhaustion.
Fiona ignored the request, increasing the volume instead. "We need to know what they're saying."
The anchor's professionally concerned voice filled the room. "The Savannah Police Department has confirmed that Detective Erin Lawson has been suspended pending investigation into her possible connection to podcast host Leah Blackwell's disappearance. Sources within the department suggest Detective Lawson had motive to silence Blackwell before damaging revelations about her partner's death could be made public."
"Sources within the department." Claire emerged from the guest bedroom, already dressed for court despite the early hour. "Wallace is controlling the narrative."
Social media updates scrolled across the bottom of the screen. #FindLeah had been trending nationwide since last night's interrupted broadcast. Celebrity tweets demanding justice. Podcast fans organizing virtual vigils. Armchair detectives, dissecting every frame of the abduction audio.
"They're painting me as the villain." Lawson watched her own image flash across the screen—her official department photo juxtaposed with security footage of her entering the parking garage. The visual framing suggested guilt before any evidence had been presented.
"Public opinion trial before actual investigation." Fiona typed furiously on her laptop. "Classic misdirection tactic."
The television switched to a press conference outside police headquarters. Chief Wallace stood at a podium surrounded by uniformed officers, his expression grave with manufactured concern.
"We are pursuing all leads in Ms. Blackwell's disappearance. Detective Lawson's suspension is standard procedure when an officer becomes central to an ongoing investigation. I want to assure the public that this department is committed to finding Ms. Blackwell and bringing those responsible to justice, regardless of who they may be."
Carefully crafted statements. Plausible deniability wrapped in procedural justification. Wallace's performance hit every necessary note to appear thorough while actually obstructing real investigation.
"He's good." Claire's grudging professional assessment cut through the tension. "Building reasonable doubt about department motives while simultaneously directing attention toward you."
Lawson set her coffee down before she could throw it at the screen. "Where's Dylan? He has the evidence that could counter this narrative."
"Not answering calls since last night." Fiona closed her laptop with a decisive snap. "Texts go unread. Voicemail full."
"Could he have been taken too?" The possibility sent a chill through the room.
"Or spooked into hiding." Claire retrieved her briefcase from beside the couch. "Young man suddenly holding evidence in a high-profile abduction with police corruption overtones. Fight or flight would naturally trigger."
Fiona's phone pinged with an incoming message. She checked it, expression shifting from concern to satisfaction. "The Chronicle's editor just approved my article. Publishing in fifteen minutes online, tomorrow's front page print edition."
"What article?"
"The one detailing your alibi during Blackwell's abduction, the Chief's suspicious rush to name you a person of interest, and serious questions about the department's handling of both Blackwell and Landry investigations." Fiona displayed her phone screen showing the headline: "Detective Scapegoated in Podcast Host Disappearance: Corruption Questions Mount."
"They approved that?" Claire appeared genuinely surprised.
"I have documentation." Fiona's smile carried professional pride. "Witness statements confirming your whereabouts. Parks' preliminary assessment contradicting the Chief's public statements. Records of Wallace's questionable promotions after the Landry case went cold."
"You're putting yourself at risk." Lawson understood the professional consequences Fiona faced by challenging powerful institutions. "Wallace will retaliate."
"Let him try." Fiona returned to her laptop. "Tribune's legal department welcomes the opportunity. First Amendment battles make careers in journalism."
Claire checked her watch. "I need to file motions challenging your suspension before the courthouse closes. The administrative hearing is scheduled for tomorrow morning."
"I need to see Richardson first." The decision had formed during the sleepless hours before dawn. "He's at the center of this somehow."
"Absolutely not." Claire's lawyer voice emerged, the tone she likely used with difficult clients. "Approaching a potential suspect compromises your position and risks additional administrative charges."
"He knows what happened to Monica." Lawson moved toward the door. "Maybe what happened to Blackwell too."
"You have no badge, no authority, and a target on your back." Fiona joined Claire's opposition. "Wallace would love nothing more than to charge you with harassment or interference."
"I'll be careful." Lawson grabbed her jacket from the hook beside the door. "Just a conversation."
"At least wait until my article publishes." Fiona gestured toward her laptop screen. "Give the department something else to worry about before you make yourself more visible."
The logic made sense, but patience had never been Lawson's strength. Five years waiting for justice had depleted her capacity for further delay. "Richardson needs to know we're onto him."
