Sharon Love Cook - Granite Cove 01 - A Nose for Hanky Panky Read Free Page A

me to do?”
    “You can start on Dr. Klinger’s bio. We’ve got file photos but nothing recent.”
    “I took some great shots at that award luncheon. Let me find them.” I tossed my pocketbook on the desk and booted up my old Mac.
    “I’ve been getting calls from all over New England. Beth’s coming in to help with the phones. The poor woman was done in by a deranged patient.”
    “Who told you that?”
    “Insider knowledge. When they find out about her background, this town will be crawling with media.” She bit her lip. &ldquot;We’d better have a staff meeting and decide how we’re going to handle this situation.”
    Yvonne was talking to herself, a sign of nerves. Her editorial experience was in society news. For twenty-five years she covered ladies’ teas and fashion shows for a suburban daily that was bought by the same newspaper chain that bought ours. For some perverse reason they appointed her our editor-in-chief. The move was either a promotion or an attempt to force her into retiring.
    “A staff meeting sounds good,” I said. “Where are Coral and Stew?”
    “Coral’s taking photos of the Harbour Building. The area is roped off, but she can get some nice exterior shots.”
    Coral, our gardening and home columnist, has been with the paper since the days of lead type. When she started talking retirement, Yvonne gave me the housekeeping column to lighten her load. Basically, what I know about housekeeping could fill a gnat’s belly button, and I told her so. She said, “Have fun with it,” and I am. So far, the readers haven’t caught on.
    “So Coral’s out. Where’s Stew?” I asked, but Yvonne didn’t answer. She appeared to be in a trance, gazing out the window and scratching her forearms. When she gets nervous, her eczema flares up. I repeated my question.
    “Stewart? Oh, he’s interviewing the headmaster at Dana Hall, a prep school Dr. Klinger attended.”
    “That leaves just the two of us for a staff meeting,” I pointed out. “How about waiting until tomorrow? This story will be huge. Dr. Klinger came from a very wealthy family. Why don’t we put out an early edition?”
    Yvonne frowned. “We’ve never done anything like that before. It might appear crass, as if we’re taking advantage of a tragedy.”
    “Yvonne, the story is bigger than Granite Cove. Dr. Klinger was an icon in this town, and let’s not forget she was murdered.”
    “Don’t say that word.” She shut her eyes.
    “I admit it’s shocking, especially for Granite Cove. Nothing like that’s ever happened here. But we can’t relegate it to the police notes. Everyone else will play it up big.”
    Perhaps my matter-of-fact attitude got through to her. In any case she quit digging at her skin. After a moment’s silence she said, “I suppose we could approach it as a tribute to a well-respected citizen.” She glanced at me. “Yes, I’m comfortable with that. Now, what did you say you have for photos?”
    “Remember when I covered the Women’s Professional League awards luncheon? Dr. Klinger was Woman of the Year. I got some great shots.”
    “Fine. See what you’ve got and get started on the bio. In the meantime, I’m waiting for a call from Chief Alfano. He’s giving me an exclusive.”
    At the mention of his name, her cheeks flushed. I knew what kind of exclusive that would be. If Chief Alfano were forbidden to use the word “I” he’d be rendered speechless. “I’m afraid he’s in over his head,” I said.
    “Nonsense. This town doesn’t appreciate the man’s capabilities.”
    There was no point in arguing with Yvonne when it came to the chief, but at least she was focused and back on track. Things would hum along, at least until the next derailment.
    While Yvonne took phone calls, I looked through files in my desk. The day of the luncheon, I’d taken at least fifteen shots. My demeanor at the time had been professional, my mood sour. Being chosen Woman of the Year by the Professional