Sandra Robbins - Yuletide Jeopardy

She chuckled. “No, I won’t. Before Mr. Mitchell plunged to his death, I promised him I would look into his son’s death and see what I could find.”

Todd turned back to her, his eyes wide. “But I thought you said his son committed suicide.”

“The police suspect suicide, but they can’t be sure. There was blood on the front seat. Mr. Mitchell believed his son was murdered and that the scene was staged to look like a suicide.”

“So, what happens if you find something that suggests it might have been murder?”

“That’s a matter for the police, of course. I’ve already talked with Detective Alex Crowne of the Cold Case Unit, and he’s agreed to investigate the case with me.” She looked into the camera. “If there’s anyone who has information about Landon Mitchell’s death or a high school secret society that he might have been a member of, you can contact me here at the station. Even if it’s something that seems inconsequential, get in touch with me. You never can tell what detail might help to solve a crime.”

Todd picked up the papers in front of him and shuffled them into a neat stack. “Well, that’s all the time we have for today.” He glanced at Grace and gave an exaggerated shiver. “Suicide on the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge? A secret society in one of our high schools? A twelve-year-old unsolved death? It sounds like my busy bee coanchor has enough to keep the newsroom buzzing for a while. Tune in tomorrow and see what she has for us next.”

Grace plastered a smile on her face and held it until the camera shut down. Then she turned to Todd. “Were you trying to embarrass me on air?”

His eyes grew wide. “Why should I do that? You do it quite well without any help from me.”

Her skin warmed, and she scooped up the papers on the desk in front of her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Todd pushed to his feet. “Nothing. I just can’t imagine a story about a secret society of high school kids in the most prestigious school in the city going on a killing spree. I have better stories to focus on than something like that.”

Grace rose and faced him. She tilted her head to one side and smiled. “You know, Todd, I figured out a long time ago what the difference was between the two of us. We both love to report the news. But all I want is to keep the public informed about what’s going on in the world. You, on the other hand, only care how you can use your reports to propel you to a network job.”

Anger flashed across his face, but it disappeared when he noticed the cameramen were listening to their conversation. He took a deep breath and flashed his smile again. “And maybe it will, Grace. You might have blown your chance with the networks, but I haven’t yet.”

Grace watched Todd walk away before she turned to leave the set. Derek shook his head and pointed to Todd’s retreating figure. “Don’t let that guy get under your skin, Grace. He’s jealous that you get more fan mail than he does. Everybody here at the station knows the reason you left your job in New York, and they admire you for coming back to help take care of your father after he was wounded in that drive-by shooting. We really respect you for that, Grace.”

Her heart thudded as it did every time she thought of her active father confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. “Thanks, Derek. My family means a lot to me.”

“I know that, but you need to watch your back. Todd made life miserable for his last coanchor before you came. He wants to anchor alone, and he wants to be in a bigger market.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, observed Todd as he walked away and chuckled. “I sure do wish he would get a job at another station. Everybody here would be a lot happier.”

Grace laughed. “Me, too, but I don’t have time to worry about Todd today. We have an interview with the mayor this afternoon. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, do you want to grab a bite of lunch and head on downtown to his office?”

“I’m going to get my hair cut on my lunch hour today. I’ll meet you there at two. Okay?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see you then.”

Grace hurried back to her office and had just grabbed her purse when her cell phone rang. Caller ID identified it as a private number, and she frowned. She sat down behind her desk and pulled the phone to her ear. “Hello.”

“Grace, I saw your broadcast on the noon news. I thought we needed to talk.”

Although the voice sounded familiar, she couldn’t identify it. The thought crossed her mind that the caller was using some sort of voice distortion. “Who is this?”

“For personal reasons I’d like my identity to remain a secret. I’m sure you have anonymous callers a lot in your work. Just think of me that way—a nameless caller who wants to help you.”

Grace took a deep breath. “Okay, but how did you get my private cell phone number?”

“It really doesn’t matter. I called because I think you need to be careful.”

Grace’s hand tightened on the phone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that there are people who don’t want you to get too close to the truth. Leave the past alone. You’ll only end up getting hurt if you dig into Landon’s death.”

Grace gasped. “That sounds like a threat. Are you trying to scare me?”

“No, I’m warning you.”

“Do you have some information about Landon’s death?”

“Yes.”

Grace sat up straighter in her chair and pressed her cell phone harder against her ear. “Was he murdered?”

“Please, Grace, for your own good, let it go.”

“I can’t let it go. Landon was my friend, and from the way you’re talking, he was your friend, too. Don’t you want people to know the truth?” He didn’t answer for a moment, and she feared he’d disconnected the call. “Are you still there?”

She heard a heavy sigh. “All right. I tried to persuade you, but you haven’t listened. If you’re determined to continue, I see there’s nothing I can do to discourage you. I have something I want to give you.”

Grace’s eyes grew wide. “I’ll meet with you. Just tell me where and when.”

“No, I don’t want to do that.”

“Then mail it to me.”

“I suppose I could....” His voice trailed off. Then he inhaled. “No, I’ll leave it for you somewhere.”

She frowned. “Where?”

“I—I don’t know. Somewhere that no one else would find it unless they were specifically looking for it. I’ll think about it and let you know where to look. I’ll call you again.”

Grace’s heart beat faster. She couldn’t let him hang up before he’d agreed to give her his information. “Wait, don’t go yet. Tell me where to look, and I’ll do it.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I remember hearing you say once that you are a geocacher.”

“Yes, I am.”

“And you said you like puzzle clues that lead to the hidden cache.”

Grace frowned. “Yes, but I don’t understand what that—”

“Has to do with finding Landon’s killer?” Grace’s skin prickled at the sudden change in the caller’s voice. Moments ago it had been soft and reassuring. Suddenly it had become harsh and demanding. “You don’t understand a lot of things, Miss Kincaid. If you want to find Landon’s killer, you’re going to have to solve much more than a geocache puzzle. I’m looking forward to seeing how smart you really are.”

Grace stood up and gripped the phone tighter. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Anonymous. You may find out I’m a lot smarter than you thought.”

“I doubt it.”

Grace chuckled. “I get it now. You didn’t call to warn me off. You wanted me more intrigued with this investigation than ever. If that was your plan, it seems to have worked. No way am I going to give up until I find out the truth.”