Last Ditch

His confidence not even dented, Fine said, “I have a confidential source who says the search is going well and they hope to have it wrapped up in a few weeks.”

Into the silence that followed came a whisper. “What was his confidential source? A news release?”

“Great,” Haeburn said quickly, apparently to save Fine from trying to work out what that very audible whisperer might have meant. “That’s the lead, then.”

“Over two deaths?” I protested. “Even if ‘going well’ and ‘a few weeks’ weren’t what they’ve been saying for months, it doesn’t advance the story. And—”

“Does, too.” Fine might, for once, have recognized the lameness in one of his responses, because he turned red and went on quickly. “Those deaths were merely accidents. Sad, I’m sure, but no more than ranch accidents that happen around here so often they don’t warrant air time. Besides, that’s the past. Old news.” His broad gesture brushed away the past.

Uneasiness ruffled the room. Diana’s husband Gary had died in an accident on their ranch. And this jackass had just dismissed his death along with the two recent ones as trivialities.

“We have to look ahead. My story is about the future of Cottonwood County and how some are working hard to rebuild it after some tore it apart—” He accompanied that with a pointed look at me.

“Why, Thurston, are you talking about the past?”

“—by bringing down our leading civic, uh, leaders with underhanded means.”

“Our leading criminals you mean?” Mike asked.

“No one’s been convicted,” Fine said.

“Yeah. And why not would make a great story,” Mike shot back. “Why don’t you get that story? Or what about the two deaths discovered last night that—”

“Perfectly obvious what happened, as I said.”

“—have not yet been ruled—”

“Accidents,” they finished together.

“Enough of this,” Haeburn said. “Thurston has the lead.”

I swear KWMT-TV’s anchor started to stick out his tongue at me, catching it in time to, instead, lick his lips.

All things considered, I’d rather he’d stuck out his tongue.

“Now—”

“Les,” I said, “before we move on, I want to be sure I’m clear, here in front of everybody, so there are no understandings later—” As there had been in other situations when Fine threw a hissy fit that someone else was chasing a good story. “—that Thurston has no interest in the coverage of the two deaths last night.”

Thurston didn’t give Haeburn the chance to respond. “If it turns out to be a story—a real story, which it won’t, since they were accidents. Tragic, but accidents.” He’d clearly lost the thread of his sentence. He coughed, holding up one hand as if apologizing for the delay to throngs eagerly awaiting his next words.

“How would you know it became a real story if you don’t work it now?”

“The sheriff’s department will announce it.”

There was a low moan emanating from several directions. The whisperer gave it voice, “Waiting for a news release.”

“If it turns out to be a real story, I get it, because I get lead story,” Thurston insisted.

“But you’ve said the progress toward filling the sheriff and county attorney slots is the true lead story. And you’re not interested in two accidental deaths … oh, unless you’re not sure they were accidental.”

Everyone in the room except him knew his best move was to back off his adamant “accidents” stance.

“They were accidents,” he said.

“Okay. So, you don’t want the story, which means it’s fair game for someone else.”

“Well, if something changes…”

“How can it, when you’re certain they were accidents?”

“Enough,” Haeburn said. “Thurston has the lead. You can’t go on the air anyway, Elizabeth, not looking like that.” Such a considerate way to allude to the recent fire that in addition to consuming my rental house and everything I’d had with me in Wyoming had also put a dent in my eyebrows, eyelashes and some hair. The hair loss wasn’t very noticeable. The eyelashes and eyebrows were, especially since I hadn’t resorted to fake eyelashes or eyebrow pencil. At least not yet. “Besides, you have your own beat. Stick to it. That goes for you, too, Paycik. Audrey, find someone to report on these deaths.”

“Sure thing.”

“It’ll go third up in A Block. After the price of hay. Now, let’s get on with the rest of it.”

Haeburn clearly thought he’d closed the door on Mike and me, and Thurston certainly looked satisfied with that conclusion.

But neither of them could see Audrey’s hand behind her back, giving Mike and me a thumbs-up.