Irish Stewed by Kylie Logan Page A

really a no-brainer to determine where Jack had been killed; the table, the chair, and the floor around both were still sprinkled with fingerprint powder.
    “Oh, right here!” With two fingers, Kim touched the back of the chair where Jack had spent his last moments on earth. “Was there a lot of blood?”
    I hoped my quick smile told her this was something I would rather not discuss. “I’m sure it’s all in the coroner’s report.”
    “And you can be sure I’m going to get my hands on that as soon as I can, but until then—”
    I headed her off at the pass. “Until then, tell me about Jack. We’ve talked about how he might—or might not—be somehow connected with Owen Quilligan. We’ve talked about the stories he was working on. But what about him? What kind of person was this Lance of Justice?”
    Kim’s shoulders shot back just a tad. She stood a little straighter. When she spoke, even her voice was different. It rang with conviction, like she was in front of the TV cameras.
    “Jack Lancer was a mainstay of this community. A man of integrity and mettle. He stood up to corruption. He refused to back down from controversy. He was a hero.”
    “Great. Fine. Wonderful.” I waved away her words at the same time I swiped at a dust mote that floated by. “But what kind of person was he?”
    She gave me a sidelong glance. “Truth?”
    “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
    Kim leaned nearer. “Professionally, Jack had it all going for him. He’d been at the station for, like, forever, and he had all the perks that went with his job. You know, wardrobe allowance, primo parking spot, more days off than anybody else on the reporting team.”
    “And were the other reporters jealous?”
    She thought about this for a moment. “I don’t think so. I mean, most of us, we weren’t even born back when Jack started at WKFJ. And most of us . . .” One corner of her mouth pulled tight. “There aren’t many people who are happy staying at the first station where they get a job after college.”
    “Like you.”
    “Like anybody who has an ounce of ambition. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for this opportunity at the station. But I’ve got bigger plans. You know, bigger markets. Network news. There must have been hundreds of reporters who’ve come and gone since Jack started at the station. And I can’t imagine any of them were jealous of a guy who sank into a rut and settled there. They all moved on. Just like I’m going to do.”
    “Which makes me wonder why Jack never did.”
    “Hey, the guy was a hometown legend. He cut the ribbons when buildings were opened, and he wrote books that were published by some small, local press. You know, about his exploits as an investigative reporter. He even had a wall calendar he sold every year and he donated the money to charity. The Lance Gives Back, he called it. Corny, but people around here, they loved it. So why would he move somewhere else? Big fish, small pond. The Lance liked being the center of attention and he got plenty of it around here.”
    “So the guy was at the top of his profession. You still haven’t told me what he was like, personally, I mean.”
    “Personally?” Kim picked a thread from the skirt of her black suit. “Well, I didn’t know him all that well. I mean, why would I? This is my first job since I graduated from Kent State. But I’ll tell you what . . .” She looked left and right and out the front window. A TV sound truck from another station had just pulled up and as if there were any chance the people inside could hear, Kim lowered her voice.
    “Professionally is one thing. But I hear that personally, Jack was a scumbag.”
    This was something. At least more something than the nothing I’d already gotten from her. I inched nearer andlowered my voice, too, the better to make it seem as if we were trading confidences. Would she open up? I was about to find out.
    “A scumbag, like a scumbag who cheats on his