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Authors: Sparkle Hayter

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BOOK: What's a Girl Gotta Do
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I was assigned to prepare a "Reporter's
Notebook" piece for the eight o'clock. I locked my office, told the
switchboard to hold all my calls, pulled out the envelope and, from
the wad of individually stapled reports, picked out the one on
Amy.

The first sheet, the "stats" sheet, showed
that Miss Amy Penny was born Michelle Amy Soxhaug and remained
Michelle Soxhaug until she was 16. Her mother had married three
times, and left her between marriages with a reluctant aunt and
uncle in Garibaldi, Alabama. Not the kind of thing that would go
over with her Stedlbauer in-laws, but nothing to kill for. The
third time around, Amy's mother married George W. Penny, an
automotive parts salesman, and Amy moved to Tennessee, where she
took her stepfather's surname, had a little nose work done, and
went on to become Miss Mason-Dixon Line.

Griff's report indicated she'd met Browner at
a personal appearance she made as TV spokesmodel for that upscale,
low-dust baby powder at a gathering of ANN advertisers and he'd
invited her to interview at ANN. She came in through the "Greg"
door, like Madri, and he had discreetly "mentored" her with an eye
to bringing her on to his show in a custom-made job. Claire had
never had a chance.

Still couldn't see a motive for murder. I
read on. Amy's association with Greg didn't end once she got to
ANN. Griff had a photo of Amy and Browner in a torrid embrace.
Griff also had some medical records, including a full amniocentesis
report on her fetus, for which Amy had reverted to her old name,
Soxhaug.

I didn't understand all the notations, but
Griff had summarized the contents: "The fetal blood type is
incompatible with the blood type of Miss Penny's fiancée, Burke
Avery, a.k.a Heinrich Stedlbauer. It is, however, compatible with
that of Mr. Browner.”

Holy shit.

Image conscious Amy would not have had the
daddy she needed--and fast--for her baby if Burke had learned this.
No wonder Griff picked me to dish the dirt to. Okay, I only had to
read the report on Amy, and the report on Browner, and the report
on me, but I am a flawed individual, and I read them all. I
couldn’t' resist temptation. Larry Griff had covered the
waterfront. There were credit reports, summaries of conversations
with old friends, ex-friends, neighbors, teachers, employers. The
stuff about Joanne and the APC was there, with pictures. Susan's
many lovers were listed--including, sadly, Greg Browner, which
explained why she didn't want her boss Solange, Greg’s ex-wife, to
know. What looked like a comprehensive sexual history of Madri was
there too, including the report that she had shared a hotel room
with Burke while he and I were still married.

There was nothing on Solange.

After I read it all, I felt kind of sleazy,
but with my curiosity sated, more or less. I shredded everything
but the report on Amy. Claire knocked on the door.

"Do you have a script? Jerry wants you to
track soon, and I have to re-edit my six o'clock for the eight so I
can't help you."

"I'm working on it, "I said. I wrote up my
story, leaving out the sordid details about the "innocent" people
investigated. Jerry changed the script, I changed it back and
tracked it, and the piece made the 8 o'clock with two minutes to
spare.

Later, Claire and I went to Tatiana's for
omelets and grain to celebrate her breakout reporting and my
continued living.

"Jerry's making himself out to be your
savior," Claire said. "He told me when he saw your message he knew
you would never meet me at a steakhouse. So he called the
cops."

"I had Amy at my mercy before the cops got
there," I said.

"You know Jerry. He'll milk it forever," she
said. "So--you were wrong about Eric."

"Claire, I just can't trust my instincts," I
said. "I'm not fit for dating. I need to take a refresher course
first."

"No, you can trust your instincts, but you
don't. You listen to all these other voices. What was your first
instinct about Eric, the very first, honestly?"

"That I really wanted to have sex with
him."

"What was your first instinct about Amy
Penny?" "That I really wanted to punch her lights out."

"And what was your first instinct about
Burke?" "That he was full of himself, almost sociopathic, but he
was really cute."

“Right on all counts.”

"Well, Eric still has some stuff to
explain."

"So do you, my dear."

"Yeah." That's what happens when you're too
close to a story--right smack in the middle of it, in fact, instead
of on the outside looking in objectively. You lose sight of things
and make mistakes.

"Have you talked to Burke?"

"No. I figure I'm one of the last people he
wants to hear from right now. You know, when we first split up, I
wished horrible things would befall him, but this exceeds my
wildest revenge fantasies. It's overkill, it's justice of Greek
proportions."

Poor Burke. he took a medical leave and went
to rest at his parent's house in the Hamptons. he always loved the
ocean. I was going to call him or send him a card but I really
didn't know what to say. This wasn't covered in Vogue's Book of
Etiquette. I felt bad for him though. Poor guy. He used to have
such good taste in women.

 

In the next week, the purse-cam tape ran all
over the news, ours and that of other channels. Most of the story
is out now. I say most because one never knows when the story is
really over. Just recently, I read that archaeologists now believe
the Philistines weren't the loutish, barbaric beer-guzzlers their
many enemies painted them to be. They were actually cultured and
refined wine drinkers with highly evolved arts and technology for
their time. This just in: The Philistines were slandered. Forget
what you've read. Even back then, there was media bias.

Our stock price is up too, slightly. Paul
Mangecet is rumored to be gunning for a big Hollywood studio, but
his Christian no-load mutual fund still hold ten percent of JBS,
and the next shareholder meeting promises to be a media circus.

McGravy made a play to get me back into
general news, but Jack Jackson himself vetoed it.

"She and Jerry are a bang-up team," he said.
"And I'm gonna keep them together. If it ain't broke don't fix
it."

Claire, however, is up for a weekend
reporting spot, in general news. Kinda like Ruby Keeler--she went
in a producer and came out a star.

Even Louise Bryant has had offers. Get this.
Some agent saw my cat on the news, and wants to sign her to an
endorsement contract. My cat gets an agent before I do. My cat
could make more this year than I. It's a strange world.

 

 

BOOK: What's a Girl Gotta Do
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