Deadly News Page 4

  Later. You can update them later. Right now, get to work. She opened up a new email account specifically for the office staff. One of the biggest problems, in her opinion, was the lack of communication between Alan and his writers. He let them print what they wanted without offering guidance or input. By the time they got their stories to him, it was too late to edit or change much. Not if they wanted to make the deadlines. He’d told her, when they’d spoken on the phone, that he knew this wasn’t how to make it a success, but his heart wasn’t in it.

  Molly wondered if that was because his heart was too tied up in Elizabeth. A week in and now you’re going to be a gossip? She wanted her staff to rely on facts, so she should do the same. She had no proof that Alan and Elizabeth had a thing going, but boy, did she suspect it. Coveted glances, unspoken words. He’d mentioned his wife in passing a few times, but Elizabeth hadn’t mentioned a spouse or partner. None of your business and just because you’re jaded doesn’t mean Alan is messing around. She hoped he wasn’t, though, because he seemed like a very nice man and that would change her view of him.

  Molly made it through her first coffee in record time and made herself take time to enjoy the second mug. By the time Elizabeth, Vernon, and Clay showed up, she was ready to show them how great the Bulletin could be.

  “What’s all this?” Elizabeth asked, stowing her purse in the drawer of her desk. Her normally neat hair was coming out of its tight ponytail. As if she knew she looked a bit frazzled, she smoothed out the front of her cream-colored blouse. Vernon looked her over and Molly’s stomach twisted at the smirk he gave his co-worker. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one suspecting things.

  Refocusing all of them, she walked to the white board that hung on the wall to the right of the picture window. On top of an agenda for the day, she’d also listed several story ideas for the upcoming edition. Ones she fully expected them to pursue. Vernon didn’t even look at the board. He opened up his laptop and ignored her while Clay opened the main computer housed on the layout desk. They’d do the page planning today, run with the stories they had. The next issue was due to go out in three days, but Molly continued to suggest tweaks and small changes. If she could get Vernon to follow through on an interview and get a look at Hannah’s as well, there’d be some more interesting pieces hitting the news soon.

  The actual press was in the basement of the building. It was small in comparison to some of the monsters Molly had seen, but the Bulletin only produced a twelve-page paper. It was more than adequate for their needs.

  Keeping her eye on Clay, she noted that he moved around the graphic software with ease. She might get a creepy vibe from him, but he knew what he was doing.

  “I’d like each of you to sign up for a GotMail account. We’ll use it to communicate within the office. You’ll send your articles and assignments this way and then I can edit and get them back to you quicker.”

  Vernon snorted. “Figure we’re going to stop talking to you so fast we need to email?”

  Molly waited until he was looking at her and smiled at him. “Actually, I plan on keeping you all so busy that between running down stories and writing, you might not have time to speak.”

  From the corner of her eye, Molly saw Elizabeth cover her mouth with one hand. She heard Clay snicker behind her, but held Vernon’s gaze. Having the newspaper generate more readers would only benefit all of them. Without it, she still had her freelance gigs. But what did they have?

  Looking over to Elizabeth, she gestured to the whiteboard. “I’d like you to contact Calliope Jacobs at Come ‘n Get It. Tell her we’d like to run a full-page ad for free next week. I want you to go interview her and her husband. We’ll run a ten-question interview alongside food and drink features. Clay, I’d like you to go with her and get some photographs of the diner. Set up your emails first and give them to me. I’ll email you the questions I made up last night, Elizabeth.”

  There was a second of silence before she nodded. “Of course.”

  “I’ll finish up the layout while I wait for you,” Clay said. He looked at Molly, shifting the ever-present pen cap to one side of his mouth. “I already have a GotMail account.”

  Turning to face him, she took a quick breath and hoped she didn’t make all of them hate her. “The sole purpose of it needs to be work-related. If it’s a personal account, I’d like you to start a second one.”

  He smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Satisfied, she turned to walk to her office. Stopping at Vernon’s desk, she lowered her voice. “I’d like to see you in my office.”

  She was seated behind her desk and looking through his timeline when he finally strolled in. Dressed in a horizontally striped golf shirt and dress pants, Molly figured at least he looked professional, even if, so far, he hadn’t acted that way. It was time to set things straight.

  He sat in front of her and she didn’t waste any time. She didn’t want to give herself the chance to chicken out. Ideally, she’d liked to have confronted him with Alan standing at her back, but she wasn’t exactly sure where her boss was this morning.

  Folding her hands in front of her on the desk, she met his bored gaze. “I don’t want to have tension between us. We’re a team and need to act as such. You might not like it, but I’m in charge of articles and assignments now. If you have a problem with that, you’ll need to take it up with Alan. My hope is, once you lose the chip on your shoulder, we’ll work well together. I’ve read several of your old articles from a few years ago and there’s some great writing there. But in the past couple of years, you’ve gone from reporting to summarizing. Your timeline is oversimplified. There’s nothing in it that a Google search wouldn’t show. You said you’d contact Vanessa Phillips. I’d like to see your interview questions. When are you meeting with her?”

  He shifted, settling one foot on his knee. “Any reason I can’t just do a phone interview? I don’t care who is in charge, but I don’t need a babysitter.”

  That was a lie. He cared. Molly could see by the banked fire shimmering in his eyes that anger fueled his attitude.

  “Maybe not, but you need some guidance on what you’re delivering to Bulletin readers. I want you to go to her home and make the readers feel like they went with you. At one time, delivering news mattered to you. I want it to matter again.”

  Vernon dropped his foot and leaned forward. “I bet you wish I cared what you want.”

  “I care what she wants,” Alan said from the doorway.

  Molly glanced up, nerves prickling her skin. She hated confrontation. Alan was an imposing figure, standing tall in a navy blue suit. His graying hair was lightly gelled back from his face. He looked tired. And mad.

  “Alan. Nice of you to show up,” Vernon said.

  Eyes widening, Molly looked back and forth between them. Maybe he should do some research on manners. She’d never speak to a superior in that tone. Not if she wanted to keep her job. Vernon wasn’t even doing his job. Why did Alan put up with his insolence?

  “Cut the crap, Vernon. We’re all working toward the same thing. It’s either we turn the paper around or we close it down.”

  Vernon’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he stared at Alan, as if trying to see if he was lying. Looking at Molly, he shrugged. “Fine. I’ll see if I can go meet with the old bat. Maybe even this afternoon if it doesn’t interrupt her teatime. I’ll take Clay with me so he can photograph the house. I’m sure our readers would like to see how the other half lives.”

  He stood and pushed past Alan. Molly called after him. “I’d like the rough version of the interview in by tonight, please.”

  He lifted a hand as he continued walking. “Yes, boss.”

  Alan frowned at her and took the seat Vernon had vacated. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Like she didn’t know. A heads-up about Vernon certainly would have prepared her better.

  “He’s good at h
is job. They all are. I just haven’t been demanding they prove it lately.”

  Molly sighed. At least he was honest. “I can pull back a bit. I know I’ve assigned more than they’re comfortable with, but it pays to look ahead. Still, I can move slower so they don’t feel like I’m changing everything.”

  Her boss leaned back in his seat, adjusting his tie. “No. You’re ripping off the Band-Aid. I’ve learned the hard way that trying to protect everyone’s feelings doesn’t necessarily save them in the end.”

  The sadness in his voice made Molly’s heart ache. She was pressuring everyone else to dig deeper. She needed to take her own advice and get to know her colleagues better. Cut yourself some slack. It hasn’t been that long.

  Before she could say something comforting—even if it would have sounded trite—he stood and brushed invisible lint off of his trousers.

  “I’m contacting a few businesses today. Having you here means I can focus more on the marketing aspect. Don’t worry; I plan to pull my own weight,” he joked.

  She appreciated the lighter tone. “I fully expect you to,” she teased.

  * * * *

  By late that Thursday afternoon, Molly was the best kind of tired—the kind that came from working hard and having something to show for it. With no argument, Clay and Elizabeth had gone to interview Calliope and Dean. As expected, the answers to their questions were as full of life as the woman herself. Without a doubt, Molly could picture Calliope flaunting the full-page ad and interview around the restaurant.

  Vernon had said nothing else to her that morning. He’d stepped out for lunch, leaving through the back and returning the same way. They all noted the snarl on his face, as it kept everyone from speaking to him. Molly was relieved when Vernon had left for the interview, taking Clay with him.

  The office was quiet and as Molly poured over the layouts on the computer, she was pleased with the progress. This week’s paper, which went out on Sunday mornings, was nearly ready to go. Next week, they’d have Calliope’s interview and Mrs. Phillips’s interview as features. Small changes would lead to big improvements. She hoped.

  The front door opened and Hannah walked in, her smile leading the way. With her light blond hair pulled back, she was youth personified. She wore slim-fit jeans and a T-shirt, making Molly think of the all-American girl.

  “Hey, Molly. Oh. Wait, should I call you Ms. Owens? I’m sorry,” she said as the glass door drifted closed behind her.

  Molly waved her suggestion away. “Of course not. It’s nice to see you. You look like springtime and summer rolled into one. How was school?”

  Hannah lifted her purse off of her shoulder and hung it on the coatrack tucked in a corner. “It was good. Same as always. One class after another, high school boys being dumb, track-and-field practice, and way too much homework.”

  Molly smiled, not wanting to tell the perky girl that despite graduating, boys could still be plenty dumb. Instead, she took a safer route. “You’re on the track team?”

  Hannah walked to where Molly was seated at a high stool beside the layout center. She peered over her shoulder and Molly caught the scent of lavender in her hair. If she were to check, her own hair would probably smell like hotel shampoo. She’d even brought it with her when she’d packed her stuff for the carriage house. She really needed to do a thorough shop. Get some nice smelly conditioner and some new bodywash. Her travel-size one was down to its last drop. Her mother would fret if she knew how wrapped up Molly had been. Balance had never been her strong suit. You should make a list. Toiletries and groceries. Might want to worry more about feeding yourself than smelling nice.

  “Oh! Is that Calliope? She looks adorable. I’m surprised you got Dean in the photo. He’s the shy one of the two,” Hannah said.

  Molly laughed. “He’d have to be. I can’t imagine anyone being more outgoing than Calliope Jacobs.”

  “Yeah. She’s good friends with my mom. I’ve been going to that diner since I was a toddler. Have you tried their sea-salt caramel pudding yet?”

  Molly’s stomach grumbled. You will not eat out again tonight. “No. But it sounds delicious. You guys sure like your country music and sea salt.”

  Hannah giggled and pulled a paper out of her pocket. “Well…yeah.”

  She handed the paper to Molly. They’d gone over a few questions yesterday and she took a moment to look through Savannah Black’s responses. Hannah had written the answers verbatim, which tickled Molly’s insides. Adorable. Whether Alan knew it or not, he had a budding writer in his niece. She’d made little notes in the margins for possible photos that could accompany the piece.

  “This is excellent, Hannah.”

  The young girl clasped her hands together. “Seriously?”

  Molly nodded. This was exactly the kind of energy they needed.

  “Completely.”

  Clapping her palms together in quick succession, Hannah bounced up and down once. “I’m so happy you like it. Thank you for giving me the chance.”

  Her attitude was far more appealing than another writer’s on staff. “You’re going to get more than one. I’d like you to write a list of sporting events happening at your school. Cross-reference the two closest high schools to this county to see if there’s any overlap in games, playoffs, or highlights. Do you attend many sporting events at your school?”

  Hannah nodded, going to the mostly empty desk that sat alongside Elizabeth’s. “Obviously I attend the ones I participate in. That’s basketball, track, and swimming. But I’ve gone to several football games with friends. It’s kind of a Friday-night thing during the season.”

  “That makes sense. I think we should be sharing more about local athletes and events. You want to do another interview? Maybe with one of your track teammates or one of the football players?”

  Hannah’s eyes sparkled all the way across the room. “Uh, there’s one player I wouldn’t mind interviewing. He’s the quarterback and there’s rumors he’s already being scouted by Ivy League schools.”

  Why the heck weren’t these things hitting the paper? Surely that was more interesting than the two-for-one sale at the grocer. “That sounds ideal. Of course, you’ll need to make sure you can keep the interview one hundred percent professional.”

  Molly tried to keep a straight face as Hannah bit her lip. “What do you mean?”

  Lips twitching, Molly looked back at her screen. “Something tells me this football player might be as easy on the eyes as he is good at the game.”

  The young girl’s laugh had Molly smiling for the rest of the day.

  * * * *

  Molly intended to check out the Greedy Grocer, but as it was more convenient, she picked up all of the items she’d put on her list from the Shop & Stop. The bed-and-breakfast—home, start calling it home—made her feel calmer just by looking at it. The large lot had trails and trees and flowers everywhere. Birds sang overhead and the sun peeked around white, fluffy clouds. Her hideaway was tucked in between two tall oaks and had a cute little cement path leading to the door. She let herself into the small unit with the key Katherine had given her the first night.

  Molly shut the door with her foot and off-loaded her bags onto the gleaming white countertop. It had been a great day and excitement continued to swirl in her chest and stomach. Unloading her groceries and tucking them away in the cabinets, she left out a bag of chips. Opening it, she shoved several in her mouth. When she’d left L.A., she’d taken her clothes, some linens, her laptop and other devices, and not much more. All she’d really wanted was to leave her tarnished memories behind.

  Finding a furnished place was another sign she’d made a good decision. The space was adorably decorated, with vintage pieces, such as the light blue table under the window and the funky side table between the couch and armchair. The bedroom fit a double bed and a dresser. Barely. She unloaded her groceries and lined the wall o
f the tub with her new soaps.

  When she finished, she set her laptop up on the counter, wondering if she should purchase a small desk. Counter and couch will work. No need to make the space feel overly crowded. At the moment, it had a home-sweet-home vibe. She snapped a few pictures on her phone and sent them to her parents and Tori.

  Munching on chips, she pulled up her email, pleased to see each of the staff had sent her an “I signed up for GotMail” message. What didn’t please her was the lack of an interview from Vernon. He’d left in the early afternoon and it was nearing seven now. He should definitely have finished since she’d only asked for the transcript of the interview for now. She opened the Word file where she’d saved everyone’s contact information.

  Finishing a mouthful of chips, she dialed Vernon’s phone number and pressed her cell to her ear as she got herself a soda from the fridge.

  “Hello?” Vernon’s voice was gravelly and she wondered, not for the first time, if he was a smoker.

  “Hi. It’s Molly. How’d the interview go? Can you send me an email with the answers?”

  Shuffling noises made her brows pinch together. Was he looking for his notes? “Uh, yeah. I’m working on it. It’s pretty dull, as I told you it would be.”

  She pressed her lips together tightly and breathed through her nose. “I’m sure we can find a way to spice it up. Did she give you anything of interest? From what I’ve heard, the family loves to talk about themselves.”

  “A couple of grainy old photos. Some journals. Not much anyone would be interested in. There’s some pictures of her as a teen and she went on about meeting Charleston Phillips and how special the family is until I wanted to poke sticks in my ears. Old Lady Phillips seemed like she’d taken the edge off with a glass or four of wine.”

  Molly’s fingers clenched around the phone. Great. She wasn’t sure if Vernon’s assessment could be trusted since he hadn’t wanted to go in the first place. Personally, Molly found the idea of journals and photos very interesting and, if presented properly, she thought the readers might as well. It was part of their own history. Vernon coughed into the phone.