Identity Crisis(38)

From the beginning she was pretty sure she wouldn’t get anything at the Golden Kiss Awards that every other reporter there wouldn’t also get, and that would never be enough, even with Tess Delaney making her first ever public appearance.

When the couple left unexpectedly, she was ready for them, and she would have had them all to herself if that damned Mike Pittman hadn’t noticed her leaving and followed. Then, in the neighborhood where Garrett Thorne’s house was tucked away, she got lost in the cul-de-sacs and side streets that curved back onto themselves like a tipped-over bowl of spaghetti. She arrived just in time to see the very amorous couple disappear into the house. And damn if Pittman wasn’t right behind her, followed by half a dozen other reporters.

All through the night the ranks had swollen, with other reporters coming and going, with bathroom breaks and breaks for coffee and snacks. But she had a bladder of steel. That, along with a Snickers bar and a half a roll of cherry LifeSavers, stood her in good stead for the night. She waited stoically, checking out every possible lead she could come up with on her iPad. The first glimmer of dawn was breaking, and she had just returned from a quick pee behind the car, when she got the email.

You’re a stellar journalist, Ms. Flannery. Pity you don’t get the credit you deserve. That’s why I chose to email you with this tip.

Tess Delaney’s quick departure from the Golden Kiss Awards was not what it appeared. I have it on good authority that Tess is being stalked, that her life is being threatened.

Adrenaline surged like a drug through Carla’s veins. This could be the break she was looking for. She read on.

I’m sharing this with you because I think you’re trustworthy. I think you’re a good journalist who believes in protecting her sources.

I’m absolutely certain of this little tip, Ms. Flannery, because I’m the one stalking Tess Delaney. And I have every intention of making her pay for everything she’s done to me, for making me wait, for keeping herself hidden like she has, for being such a tease, for being such a whore. She deserves whatever she gets, Ms. Flannery. Don’t doubt that for a minute.

Carla felt the fine hair on the back of her neck prickle and gooseflesh broke across her arms.

Ask Tess, when she comes out to speak with the press. And she will. She won’t deny you that opportunity. I’ll wager her publicist will force the issue. Ask her about the threat to her life.

Ask the question, Ms. Flannery. See what she says. What a story you’ll have!

The email wasn’t signed.

She felt like someone had just poured ice water down her spine. She’d had anonymous tips before. Lots of them. And several of them had paid off big time. Carla knew better than to ignore them, but damn it, this was a little bit scary. This was more than a little bit scary. In the end, it might be best for her to keep her mouth shut until she could talk to her editor about it. She shifted in the seat and tried to stretch her aching back. Her editor had the news instincts of a damp paper towel. And she was here and now and … She looked around the neighborhood as the dawn light paled around her. Garrett Thorne’s house was completely silent. She imagined the couple were still sleeping it off. It could be hours before there was any movement, before there was any possibility of a story. That gave her time to consider whether or not to talk to her editor about it. And, in truth, she could always just send a text at the last minute.

Thanks to that ass, Pittman, the place was crawling with reporters and the possibility of getting anything unique was almost non-existent – except for this tip, this nasty little tip that made her skin crawl.

She searched for any stories that mentioned threats to Tess Delaney. There were none, because until last night no one had ever even seen Tess Delaney. That in itself would bring all the nutters out of the woodwork. Tess Delaney, out in public for the first time, with a real face and a real personality, would now be subject to all the craziness every other celebrity was. Carla couldn’t keep from wondering why the woman hadn’t just stayed tucked away in her private hideaway and let the loonies find someone else to badger. Of course, she was happy about the chance for a story, but really, this email was just creepy. She considered calling one of her buds down at the police department, but then she knew that would be a wasted call. It was just one more prank among many, they’d say. And they were right. She’d wait and see. That’s all she could do at the moment. Wait and see. God, she’d give her right arm for a cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee about now!





Chapter Twelve

Kendra had had a quick shower and now sat in yoga pants and a tank top from the stash of clothing she always left at Dee’s for when she housesat. McAlister, the red tabby, lay curled up in her lap on the sofa, his tail twitching from side to side. Ellis and Dee sat in the two wing-backed leather chairs across from her and listened to the whole sordid story. They offered no judgmental “I told you so”. She really appreciated that, especially since she knew she deserved it.