Page 142 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

“To sell more newspapers.”

“That’s our business, Detective.” Norm Metzger, the Sentinel’s smarmy crime reporter, sidled up to the group. He’d obviously been eavesdropping from behind the stub wall. “She should have been objective. Sure, she lost a friend, but how can she help her or save the next potential victim if she doesn’t tell her story and warn the public? We just wanted to do a tribute to Simone Everly and report what had happened to her. It’s news.”

“It’s always news until it’s someone close to you. Then, it’s personal and called sensationalism.”

“As a reporter, she should remain objective,” Fink stated.

“No wonder she walked out.”

“Listen, Reed, you do your job and I’ll do mine. I don’t need any bullshit from the police department.”

Reed felt the cords on the back of his neck stand out and it took all his strength to keep his hands from curling into fists. “And we don’t need any pseudo-sanctimonious crap from the press.” He turned his gaze to the next cubicle where a wide-eyed Trina had listened to the entire exchange. “If you hear from Ms. Gillette,” he instructed, “please have her call me ASAP.”

“Absolutely.” She took down his cell number, sent a withering glare in Fink’s direction and rolled her chair toward her desk.

“I’ll be calling your superior,” Fink threatened.

“Please. Do,” Reed invited. “Show her what a stellar, public-serving individual you are!”

Reed left the Sentinel with a worse opinion of journalists than he’d had when he’d walked in. Which, considering his viewpoint, was damned near impossible.

Scum.

Maggots.

Vultures.

Tom Fink and Norm Metzger fit right into the pathetic mold, he thought, ignoring the rain as it swirled from the sky. He’d nearly reached his car when Trina, shoulders hunched against the cold, ran to catch up to him. “Detective Reed,” she called, waving to flag him down, her slim skirt and high-heeled boots making her steps short and quick. She was breathless and soaked by the time she reached him. “I just wanted you to know that Nikki was really upset when she left. I don’t know what went on in the meeting she had with Tom, but she was furious. I tried to talk her into staying, but she’d made up her mind.”

“Do you have any idea where she’d go?” he asked and Trina lifted a shoulder.

“Only home. She had all the stuff from her desk with her. But she did get a couple of calls that were inadvertently sent to my voice mail.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, her teeth chattering. “Celeste, our receptionist, is an idiot.” A streak of lightning hissed through the sky. Trina jumped.

“So, who phoned?”

She handed him a wet note with numbers that had begun to run. “The first one is from Sean, he’s an old boyfriend who doesn’t seem to know how to take a hint, and the second is her mother.” Trina’s dark eyes clouded as thunder pealed over the rush of traffic. “It was an odd call. Mrs. Gillette sounded upset.”

Reed was reminded of the message left on Nikki’s home machine. “Thanks.”

“If you…no, when you find her, will you let me know?” Trina asked. “I’m worried. The Grave Robber was contacting her directly.”

“I’ll have Nikki call.”

“Thanks.” She started toward the office and Reed was left more anxious than before. He tried Nikki’s cell phone again, but there was still no answer. The same with the Ronald Gillette home. Maybe one of her parents had taken ill and she’d rushed them to the hospital—no, that didn’t explain why her cell phone wasn’t working. Unless it was out of battery life.

He dug through his notebook and located her brother and sister’s phone numbers. As he drove, he first called Kyle, who sounded irritated about being pulled away from the television blaring in the background and who informed him that he hadn’t seen Nikki since Thanksgiving. Another strike. Reed then called Lily. Another piece of work.

“I haven’t heard from Nikki since she stood me up. Again. I wanted her to baby-sit and she bagged out on me, which is par for the course. Her M.O. All Nikki really cares about is her job, or more specifically, her ambitions…. She wants to be the best damned crime reporter this town has ever seen and it really pisses her off to be on the town meeting desk or whatever it is she does. So now she’s hot on the trail of the Grave Robber, just like she was last summer when that other serial killer was running around. I’m telling you, if she keeps this up, she’s going to end up dead herself. God, she’s just so…so Nikki!”

Reed waited until she’d quit ranting, then asked, “So what about your parents? Have you heard from your mother today?”

“No…why?” Instant concern.

“Your mother left several messages for her. She sounded worried. But she didn’t call you?”

“That’s odd,” Lily said, all of her anger suddenly vanishing. “I mean, usually, if Mom needs anything—and I mean anything—she calls me.

Nikki’s convinced my parents that she’s too busy, so they don’t rely on her. But I’ve been home all day and Mom never called. Not once.”

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