Shot Girl by Karen E. Olson Page B

were seen outside just after he was shot."
    I took a deep breath. "Yeah, I did talk to Ralph, and she knows it. We talked about it last night. I was outside because I heard the shots and wanted to find out what happened. There’s nothing mysterious about it." I hoped I was convincing enough so he’d leave it alone.
    Marty studied my face for a few seconds, and I forced myself not to look away. Finally, he said, "One of her sisters saw you near your car after the shooting."
    I knew what he was getting at now. "So you think I shot at Ralph, he keeled over, and then I put my gun back in my car afterward? The parking lot isn’t far from where Ralph collapsed."
    Marty sighed. "I’m just telling you what’s out there."
    He meant the gossip.
    "Tom let me go," I said.
    Despite the door being closed, we heard the scanner screech about an accident. On reflex, I put my hand to the doorknob, but Marty shook his head. "No, Annie, Dick’s got this."
    Through the glass office window, I watched Dick pick a notebook up off his desk. He looked over at us and nodded as he made his way across the newsroom. Dick had been covering courts the last few months—the beat I’d held until I became the crime reporter—and it was possible he’d heard something about this grand jury investigation.
    Wanting to ask him about that put me in a compromising position. I would have to be nice to Dick Whitfield, something that was not natural for me. Especially since he was going out to cover my story.
    Jane Ferraro poked her head in the office and motioned that she needed to speak to Marty. As they huddled together just outside the door, I moved around them and followed Dick’s path, catching up with him just as he was about to step outside. I tugged on his sleeve.
    "A quick minute, Dick?" I asked.
    His eyes were wide, and his expression told me he had no clue how to react. Was I going to yell at him for something, swear at him, order him to let me cover this accident? For a second, I let him wonder as I studied his appearance. He’d begun to abandon his penchant for green clothing, and more browns and blues had joined his color palette. Must be the influence of his girlfriend, TV reporter Cindy Purcell, who was in the newsroom at that very minute, fluffing up her blond locks as she prepared to report for the five o’clock news from Hartford’s Channel 9 Shoreline Bureau, aka the New Haven Herald .
    Dick’s eyes were starting to glaze. Might as well get it over with.
    "Over at the courthouse, have you heard anything about a grand jury investigation concerning Ralph Seymour, the guy who died at Rouge Lounge last night?" I asked.
    The question caught him by surprise, and he nodded involuntarily. "I was going to ask you about that later. I didn’t say anything to Marty yet. Especially since this guy was your husband."
    I frowned. "Ex-husband. So you did hear something? Who told you?"
    Dick’s pointy ears twitched. I stared unabashedly. I didn’t think they could do that.
    "I heard it from someone over at the courthouse, a source," he said.
    Oh, yeah, Dick had sources. It was hard to believe at first, but I grudgingly had to admit he was getting better at his job. At least he didn’t make shit up, like Ralph had. Well, not that I knew of, anyway.
    "So what did this source tell you?"
    Dick bit his lip, a flush crawling up his face. "He said I should ask you why your mother was representing your ex-husband."

Chapter 12
    My mother? Vinny had lied to me. Well, not exactly. He just hadn’t answered when I asked about it.
    It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that he knew something—he did know Felicia’s name without me even saying it—and he probably was working for my mother on it. What his exact role was, well, now, that was what I needed to find out.
    I sent Dick off to his accident with a wave of my hand, muttering how he’d miss it if he didn’t get there right away. He didn’t seem to notice I hadn’t said anything before he