Amazon https://tinyurl.com/y8b55ybr
Excerpt:
Journalist Lexi Warner detests dragging someone’s name through the mud. However, due to her shrinking bank account, she accepts an assignment in South Carolina to interview Tate Hunter, who had mysteriously disappeared a year ago.
Big hearted Tate Hunter rose above a bumpy upbringing in a Home for Children, determined to make a name for himself. He became the finest sportscaster, ever, at a prime TV station, WCJD, in Miami, Florida.
His world is upended after he’s accused of his wife’s death. When Tate is found innocent, he burns all bridges and relocates to Hideaway Harbor, South Carolina, to begin life anew as a Charter Boat captain.
Lexi had concealed her reason for visiting the town of Hideaway Harbor from those she meets, and worse, from Tate. Just as they come to be at ease with each other, the town’s hot-headed reporter gives Tate damaging news concerning Lexi.
CHAPTER 1
“South Carolina?” Lexi Warner’s sense of sultry conditions flashed back to the last time she’d paid a visit to South Carolina. She spun on one heel to oppose Ralph, her interim boss. “You expect me to travel to South Carolina in this heat?”
“Well, Sugah…”
Lexi bit down on her lower lip and fired a hazel-eyed glare Ralph’s way. “Lexi. My name is Lexi. Remember? Please. Don’t call me Sugah—okay?”
“I’m well aware of your name.” Ralph blew out a lengthy breath, then saluted. “Fine, Lexi. Lexi it is.”
Why she’d agreed to work for Ralph at The Whisper Rag escaped her for some oddball reason. He’d always annoyed her no matter how hard she’d tried to avoid her sensitivity to his use of familiarity. Overfriendliness was one of the deeds he did well.
At five in the morning, and the loss of sleep from a little over a five-hour drive, didn’t help matters.
Not one iota.
Oh yeah. She took into account why she’d taken the job with Ralph.
Her checking account had sadly dwindled after her mom, Rena, had called and pleaded, yet again, for a loan to make her mortgage payment. Repeatedly, as she had now, her mom traveled out of town without her checkbook and often failed to pay her mortgage. Did she not realize they could throw her out on her ear?
But then she always had someone to call.
Who did Rena call? Right. Me.
Since forgetting was to be her expected defense, Lexi still questioned if the loss of memory wasn’t becoming a convenient habit her mom had created, as an excuse, to help send her daughter to the poor house.
Most every single month while she ran two households drained her mentally, not to mention strain her finances at certain times, triggered her to struggle for breath.
Lexi missed not having siblings more than ever, especially in times like these. Even if she’d had siblings, the outcome probably wouldn’t have made any difference. Her mom had always relied on and trusted her above anyone else. Lexi had many regrets, but taking care of her mom wasn’t one of them. Regardless of the effect it had on her mental health, and her finances.
She loved her mom and protected her, so she made sure there was always enough set aside in her own savings account to cover her mom’s mortgage.
Just in case. And there was always a just in case…and always a loan.
A loan? Yeah right. That was a laugh. More like a gift, as usual.
Unfortunately, today Lexi’s checking account balance was close to bordering on bone-dry. Concern was the viable basis. In a rush to get on the road to Miami, she’d neglected to bring her checkbook. To add Rena’s fifteen-hundred mortgage payment to her credit card balance was out of the question. If she were to purchase a bedroom suite, once she located the ideal one, she prayed Rena’s splurging would slow down, at least this month.
Exhausted at the end of day, she didn’t really mind sleeping on the new mattress and box spring, at least they were nestled nicely on a frame. The best part was, they were paid for. But a real bed and furniture would finish out the empty spaces of her bedroom. The bare walls were beginning to close in.
Her stomach tightened as much as her bank account had last month, when she’d logged online and eye-balled the balance. Still, she’d manned-up and transferred funds from her savings, then sent an online check to her mom’s mortgage company, whose account was now listed as a permanent bill pay from Lexi’s account.
She realized it was most likely a long-shot, but last month she’d presented her mom with an inexpensive laptop. Lexi had high hopes, and with a bit of luck, that the computer would keep her mom occupied at home more often, other than shopping and traipsing around the country with a gaggle of friends, which she normally did.
Despite patience and persistence, Lexi had zero positive results instructing her mom even simple tasks with the computer. The tech personnel visited her mom more than she did. She simply didn’t get technology.
Lexi had eventually given up until she could convince her mom to enroll in a beginner’s computer class. Not that she thought her mom would take the suggestion as a positive approach. Yet, if it were her mom’s brainchild, that would be a bird of another species.
Since Lexi was in Miami on assignment from The Corner Post News, in Tyler’s Corner, Florida, she’d accepted the assignment at The Whisper Rag, out of Miami, to make ends meet.
Lord knows the ends needed a boost.
Then again, if she had requested, Ralph, the owner, would have wired the money to hop a flight instead of hours of driving, or insist she use her expense account for reimbursement, but she was in no frame of mind to discuss why her finances were in such turmoil.
Frankly, some matters weren’t meant to be shared. Her finances were her business. Well…more like her and her mom’s concern.
Expense account? Ralph couldn’t possibly understand how that would ease the pressure along with the headaches. Lexi was careful with her own money and had always been truthful and frugal with the mag’s money. The expenses encountered would be legit, and she wouldn’t take advantage, especially since her stiffened budget was her responsibility, not her employers’.
Lexi breathed in the nostalgic scent of the small, primitive print shop. Paper and ink printing scent were in her blood. There was nothing else like it, except of course, the scent of opening a new book.
“Lexi.” Ralph waved a hand in front of Lexi’s face to catch her attention. “Hello there. What’s the difference whether you’re in Florida or South Carolina? It’s hotter than a grill chock-full of red-hot charcoal here in Miami.”
Louisiana, Florida, Georgia, Texas and South Carolina’s weather were one and the same to her. She rolled her eyes and cast a dubious glance at Ralph.
“Haven’t you been to South Carolina in the heat of summer? The humidity is more than mind-boggling. If you want an extra shower, you have only to step outside.”
“No, I haven’t, though I’m aware the heat is extreme. The season has nothing to do with the sensational story you’re going to cover. The trip will be worth your time, a boost to your name, and certainly not to mention your bank account. Hideaway Harbor won’t be as severe as you expect, especially with the bay breeze. I might suggest you book a flight into Savannah, pack and be on your way today. That is if you’re able to catch a flight.”
“Flights out of Miami to Savannah are fairly frequent. No worries there,” she said. “What about my car?”
She laughed to herself at the question. Who would want the, on its last legs, fifteen-year-old car anyway?
“Your car will be safe here in our lock-up lot.” Ralph withdrew a dusty card from a holder, on an equally dust covered shelf, blew off a layer of dust, then handed it to her. “Once your flight is confirmed, call Art at Best-Rent-a-Car. He’ll take care of you, as he owns several locations in Savannah, and always gives my journalists a discount.”
There was no reason to persist in a debate concerning the weather, and pretend she wasn’t still going to accept the assignment. She’d driven too far to back out of the deal now, and there was still the bone-dry bank account that lingered. Lord only knew when she’d get another well-paying job. Ralph was one of the five magazines that offered her available assignments. She appreciated he’d thought of her when he committed to extra projects. For that, she gave him credit.
Lexi eyed Ralph’s disheveled, thinning hair under his lop-sided cap and gave him a thumbs up.
“Check.” She tossed the card in her purse and flipped her shoulder length chestnut hair into a ponytail, then slid a rubber band from Ralph’s cluttered desk around the thick mass.
Lexi observed Ralph as he studied her, his arms folded his across his massive chest. “There’s a box of doughnuts on the counter. If you haven’t had breakfast yet, help yourself.”
Lexi laughed. “The doughnuts aren’t dusty, too, are they?”
“Come on, Lexi. Check them out yourself.” Ralph crinkled his forehead and exhaled. “Fresh this morning. Your choice.”
“Mind if I pour myself another cup of coffee?”
“By all means. Refill mine too, if you don’t mind, black.”
“I remember,” she said.
Since she needed an extra pick-me-up, Lexi dumped a spoonful of sugar and heavy cream in her mug, then handed Ralph his mug along with a napkin-wrapped chocolate covered doughnut. She hadn’t given in to doughnuts in weeks, but she had no intention of turning one down now, while she listened to her stomach rumble. Her eyes rolled at the mouthwatering delight, when she bit down on the sugary goodness. She’d rethink doughnuts in the future. Maybe. She glanced over at Ralph and saw he’d devoured the doughnut, chocolate filling the corners of his lips. She handed him another napkin and pointed to his mouth.
He swiped once and balled up the napkin, then made a first-class basket into the trash can. “Thanks,” he said.
“Yeah, being a server is my lifelong dream,” she said, and wiped her hands.
“Good grief. All you had to say was, sorry, but no. I’d have gotten my own coffee.”
Lexi grinned. “I’m kidding you, Ralph.”
“Thank heavens for small favors.”
Lexi nodded. “Okay, Ralph. Spill the details. Shouldn’t you tell me who to contact once I get there? Who and what the story is about? What makes it so sensational?”
“Absolutely. I’m getting to the details.” Ralph reached across the desk and picked up a long yellow envelope, then handed it to her. “You’ll want to read over this material before you get there. The information will make for good reading on the plane. By the way, I should have warned you when we spoke earlier. You may be in Hideaway Harbor longer than expected, which should be a week, two at the most. Only one, with a bit of luck. If you haven’t packed enough clothing, buy what you need and use the expense account.” He wriggled his eyebrows. “In moderation though. You understand.”
“Of course,” Lexi said, then grinned. “You’re behaving out of the ordinary…generous to a fault.” Ralph had always been the penny-pincher and he wasn’t about to change now. Still, it was a big-hearted offer for such a man. “Why do you imagine the assignment could require so long?”
She’d checked into a motel close by, so it wouldn’t take long to repack the clothes into her bag. Most everything she’d brought to Miami was still in her suitcase, with the exception of hang-up clothes. Used to traveling on a shoestring, within an hour, she could shower, dress, pack, and be on her way to the airport and out of town, depending on when she could grab a flight.
“Do you remember the story in connection with Tate Hunter’s wife about a year and a half ago here in Miami? She met with a boating accident while on an outing with Tate.”
Lexi closed her eyes, and in her mind, visualized the headlines. “Yes. I do recall the story. Sad he'd lost his wife. I didn’t know him personally, but had only heard good things from the media and some of my co-workers. I’m sure he was thankful and relieved, when suspicions of homicide died down.”
“I’m sure of it, too.” Ralph pulled at his red suspenders, then looked at her over black-rimmed glasses perched at the end of his nose. “We were actually lucky to have someone give us a call. Someone who thinks he spotted Tate in Hideaway Harbor, South Carolina. If indeed he is there, I’m putting money on the fact that he won’t be any too pleased to see you. Especially, when he finds out why you’re there. So, prepare and plan the job accordingly.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” she said, while she twisted her chestnut ponytail more secure inside the rubber band. “If this story is so important, would you care to tell me why aren’t you covering the feature yourself?”
“I may be wrong, but considering the circumstances, I think he’ll be more approachable if a female journalist is on the job. Which is why you’re here. Besides, you’re the best I have and I can’t spare the time to cover scoops any longer.”
Lexi, frowned. “Why now? What’s the interest in Tate Hunter after so long? Shouldn’t you leave the poor man alone? He has lost his wife. Are you heartless or just snooping for that, ‘give the mag a push’, story?”
Ralph blew out a noisy breath as he eased a hip on top of the desk’s edge. “Mr. Hunter left Miami and hasn’t been heard from since a few months after the drowning. His wife’s sister has still been on the guilty kick concerning Tate, even though no further evidence at the inquest was necessary to bring charges against him. Never-the-less, his sister-in-law is on a rampage again. Tate worshipped his wife. Anyone who knew them would bear witness to their affection for one another.”
“Everyone except his sister-in-law.” Lexi squinted her eyes. “So why not look for him here first?”
“I’ve had someone on it already. While it’s unlikely Tate’s still in this area, and as I’ve already said rumor has it, from a reliable source, that he’s been spotted in Hideaway Harbor. Maybe he’s settled down there, maybe not, but if he is, I want to be the first to break the story. I want to know what Tate’s been up to, or if he’s seeing anyone. You know, get the low-down on him. He was the finest sportscaster WCJD ever employed. There must be some exciting news on him by now. He’s newsworthy. Drop by the Hideaway Harbor Times and speak with the owner, Garrett Webb. If Tate is indeed there, he may be able to give you a lead on his whereabouts.”
“I will, but I’m not fond of being a part of creating distressing news and dragging people through the mud, especially someone I know zero about.”
“Come on, Lexi. We aren’t dragging Tate through the mud, as you put it, simply bringing him to the forefront.”
“Great guns, Ralph. We’ve worked together long enough for you to remember how I feel concerning specific ways of obtaining an interview.”
“Lexi. You’re a journalist. Get over it.” Ralph jerked off his hat and slapped it against his leg. “Do you want the job or not?”
“I always have, gotten over it, as you said and as you know. And…yes. I do want the job. I simply don’t like the tactics.”
“Well then, focus on the story. By the way, instead of having to use your credit card, a company credit card is in the envelope. Use it for expenses.”
You can bet on it. The card will come in handy.
Though she wouldn’t abuse it, Lexi would have no problem applying Ralph’s card for her expenditures.
None at all.
Ralph waved a hand toward the other side of the office. “If you’d like to make some calls, you may use the corner office.”
As luck would have it, Lexi was fortunate enough to grab a flight at noon today. The flight should take about an hour and half. The drive from Savannah up the coast to Hideaway Harbor was about an hour away, so allowing time to pick up a rental car, and what other incidentals may pop up, she should arrive in Hideaway Harbor between three and four, give or take, this afternoon.
She’d committed. It was time to get this trip and story over with. The sooner the better.
But once she’d begun to wind down, and with the long drive from home to Miami this morning, fatigue had settled in. She was tired and hungry for something more substantial than doughnuts, but more worn out than hungry.
Desperate for a good night’s rest, once she arrived in Savannah, she’d rent a car, grab a room, then after a relaxing shower, order in a scrumptious seafood dinner. Then snuggle down and pray her mom had no emergencies that required her attention tonight.
A strange nagging inside her head, revealed she may need more than one good night’s rest. Who knew what issues the next week or two would transpire?
She had a house to furnish, a mom to care for and deliver herself from her overbearing temporary boss. While Ralph occasionally hired her for special assignments, they’d never formed a true friendship. They did understand each other though, so she wasn’t burning any bridges. That was her expectation anyway. If he balked at the extra night’s motel room, which he was subject to do, she’d simply pay the expense herself. No problem. Food and sleep were the two concerns heavy on her mind at the moment.
Though leery about tearing into someone’s private life for no good reason, Lexi was prepared to meet the extraordinary Tate Hunter, interview him and get back to more important matters at hand.
Excerpt:
Journalist Lexi Warner detests dragging someone’s name through the mud. However, due to her shrinking bank account, she accepts an assignment in South Carolina to interview Tate Hunter, who had mysteriously disappeared a year ago.
Big hearted Tate Hunter rose above a bumpy upbringing in a Home for Children, determined to make a name for himself. He became the finest sportscaster, ever, at a prime TV station, WCJD, in Miami, Florida.
His world is upended after he’s accused of his wife’s death. When Tate is found innocent, he burns all bridges and relocates to Hideaway Harbor, South Carolina, to begin life anew as a Charter Boat captain.
Lexi had concealed her reason for visiting the town of Hideaway Harbor from those she meets, and worse, from Tate. Just as they come to be at ease with each other, the town’s hot-headed reporter gives Tate damaging news concerning Lexi.
CHAPTER 1
“South Carolina?” Lexi Warner’s sense of sultry conditions flashed back to the last time she’d paid a visit to South Carolina. She spun on one heel to oppose Ralph, her interim boss. “You expect me to travel to South Carolina in this heat?”
“Well, Sugah…”
Lexi bit down on her lower lip and fired a hazel-eyed glare Ralph’s way. “Lexi. My name is Lexi. Remember? Please. Don’t call me Sugah—okay?”
“I’m well aware of your name.” Ralph blew out a lengthy breath, then saluted. “Fine, Lexi. Lexi it is.”
Why she’d agreed to work for Ralph at The Whisper Rag escaped her for some oddball reason. He’d always annoyed her no matter how hard she’d tried to avoid her sensitivity to his use of familiarity. Overfriendliness was one of the deeds he did well.
At five in the morning, and the loss of sleep from a little over a five-hour drive, didn’t help matters.
Not one iota.
Oh yeah. She took into account why she’d taken the job with Ralph.
Her checking account had sadly dwindled after her mom, Rena, had called and pleaded, yet again, for a loan to make her mortgage payment. Repeatedly, as she had now, her mom traveled out of town without her checkbook and often failed to pay her mortgage. Did she not realize they could throw her out on her ear?
But then she always had someone to call.
Who did Rena call? Right. Me.
Since forgetting was to be her expected defense, Lexi still questioned if the loss of memory wasn’t becoming a convenient habit her mom had created, as an excuse, to help send her daughter to the poor house.
Most every single month while she ran two households drained her mentally, not to mention strain her finances at certain times, triggered her to struggle for breath.
Lexi missed not having siblings more than ever, especially in times like these. Even if she’d had siblings, the outcome probably wouldn’t have made any difference. Her mom had always relied on and trusted her above anyone else. Lexi had many regrets, but taking care of her mom wasn’t one of them. Regardless of the effect it had on her mental health, and her finances.
She loved her mom and protected her, so she made sure there was always enough set aside in her own savings account to cover her mom’s mortgage.
Just in case. And there was always a just in case…and always a loan.
A loan? Yeah right. That was a laugh. More like a gift, as usual.
Unfortunately, today Lexi’s checking account balance was close to bordering on bone-dry. Concern was the viable basis. In a rush to get on the road to Miami, she’d neglected to bring her checkbook. To add Rena’s fifteen-hundred mortgage payment to her credit card balance was out of the question. If she were to purchase a bedroom suite, once she located the ideal one, she prayed Rena’s splurging would slow down, at least this month.
Exhausted at the end of day, she didn’t really mind sleeping on the new mattress and box spring, at least they were nestled nicely on a frame. The best part was, they were paid for. But a real bed and furniture would finish out the empty spaces of her bedroom. The bare walls were beginning to close in.
Her stomach tightened as much as her bank account had last month, when she’d logged online and eye-balled the balance. Still, she’d manned-up and transferred funds from her savings, then sent an online check to her mom’s mortgage company, whose account was now listed as a permanent bill pay from Lexi’s account.
She realized it was most likely a long-shot, but last month she’d presented her mom with an inexpensive laptop. Lexi had high hopes, and with a bit of luck, that the computer would keep her mom occupied at home more often, other than shopping and traipsing around the country with a gaggle of friends, which she normally did.
Despite patience and persistence, Lexi had zero positive results instructing her mom even simple tasks with the computer. The tech personnel visited her mom more than she did. She simply didn’t get technology.
Lexi had eventually given up until she could convince her mom to enroll in a beginner’s computer class. Not that she thought her mom would take the suggestion as a positive approach. Yet, if it were her mom’s brainchild, that would be a bird of another species.
Since Lexi was in Miami on assignment from The Corner Post News, in Tyler’s Corner, Florida, she’d accepted the assignment at The Whisper Rag, out of Miami, to make ends meet.
Lord knows the ends needed a boost.
Then again, if she had requested, Ralph, the owner, would have wired the money to hop a flight instead of hours of driving, or insist she use her expense account for reimbursement, but she was in no frame of mind to discuss why her finances were in such turmoil.
Frankly, some matters weren’t meant to be shared. Her finances were her business. Well…more like her and her mom’s concern.
Expense account? Ralph couldn’t possibly understand how that would ease the pressure along with the headaches. Lexi was careful with her own money and had always been truthful and frugal with the mag’s money. The expenses encountered would be legit, and she wouldn’t take advantage, especially since her stiffened budget was her responsibility, not her employers’.
Lexi breathed in the nostalgic scent of the small, primitive print shop. Paper and ink printing scent were in her blood. There was nothing else like it, except of course, the scent of opening a new book.
“Lexi.” Ralph waved a hand in front of Lexi’s face to catch her attention. “Hello there. What’s the difference whether you’re in Florida or South Carolina? It’s hotter than a grill chock-full of red-hot charcoal here in Miami.”
Louisiana, Florida, Georgia, Texas and South Carolina’s weather were one and the same to her. She rolled her eyes and cast a dubious glance at Ralph.
“Haven’t you been to South Carolina in the heat of summer? The humidity is more than mind-boggling. If you want an extra shower, you have only to step outside.”
“No, I haven’t, though I’m aware the heat is extreme. The season has nothing to do with the sensational story you’re going to cover. The trip will be worth your time, a boost to your name, and certainly not to mention your bank account. Hideaway Harbor won’t be as severe as you expect, especially with the bay breeze. I might suggest you book a flight into Savannah, pack and be on your way today. That is if you’re able to catch a flight.”
“Flights out of Miami to Savannah are fairly frequent. No worries there,” she said. “What about my car?”
She laughed to herself at the question. Who would want the, on its last legs, fifteen-year-old car anyway?
“Your car will be safe here in our lock-up lot.” Ralph withdrew a dusty card from a holder, on an equally dust covered shelf, blew off a layer of dust, then handed it to her. “Once your flight is confirmed, call Art at Best-Rent-a-Car. He’ll take care of you, as he owns several locations in Savannah, and always gives my journalists a discount.”
There was no reason to persist in a debate concerning the weather, and pretend she wasn’t still going to accept the assignment. She’d driven too far to back out of the deal now, and there was still the bone-dry bank account that lingered. Lord only knew when she’d get another well-paying job. Ralph was one of the five magazines that offered her available assignments. She appreciated he’d thought of her when he committed to extra projects. For that, she gave him credit.
Lexi eyed Ralph’s disheveled, thinning hair under his lop-sided cap and gave him a thumbs up.
“Check.” She tossed the card in her purse and flipped her shoulder length chestnut hair into a ponytail, then slid a rubber band from Ralph’s cluttered desk around the thick mass.
Lexi observed Ralph as he studied her, his arms folded his across his massive chest. “There’s a box of doughnuts on the counter. If you haven’t had breakfast yet, help yourself.”
Lexi laughed. “The doughnuts aren’t dusty, too, are they?”
“Come on, Lexi. Check them out yourself.” Ralph crinkled his forehead and exhaled. “Fresh this morning. Your choice.”
“Mind if I pour myself another cup of coffee?”
“By all means. Refill mine too, if you don’t mind, black.”
“I remember,” she said.
Since she needed an extra pick-me-up, Lexi dumped a spoonful of sugar and heavy cream in her mug, then handed Ralph his mug along with a napkin-wrapped chocolate covered doughnut. She hadn’t given in to doughnuts in weeks, but she had no intention of turning one down now, while she listened to her stomach rumble. Her eyes rolled at the mouthwatering delight, when she bit down on the sugary goodness. She’d rethink doughnuts in the future. Maybe. She glanced over at Ralph and saw he’d devoured the doughnut, chocolate filling the corners of his lips. She handed him another napkin and pointed to his mouth.
He swiped once and balled up the napkin, then made a first-class basket into the trash can. “Thanks,” he said.
“Yeah, being a server is my lifelong dream,” she said, and wiped her hands.
“Good grief. All you had to say was, sorry, but no. I’d have gotten my own coffee.”
Lexi grinned. “I’m kidding you, Ralph.”
“Thank heavens for small favors.”
Lexi nodded. “Okay, Ralph. Spill the details. Shouldn’t you tell me who to contact once I get there? Who and what the story is about? What makes it so sensational?”
“Absolutely. I’m getting to the details.” Ralph reached across the desk and picked up a long yellow envelope, then handed it to her. “You’ll want to read over this material before you get there. The information will make for good reading on the plane. By the way, I should have warned you when we spoke earlier. You may be in Hideaway Harbor longer than expected, which should be a week, two at the most. Only one, with a bit of luck. If you haven’t packed enough clothing, buy what you need and use the expense account.” He wriggled his eyebrows. “In moderation though. You understand.”
“Of course,” Lexi said, then grinned. “You’re behaving out of the ordinary…generous to a fault.” Ralph had always been the penny-pincher and he wasn’t about to change now. Still, it was a big-hearted offer for such a man. “Why do you imagine the assignment could require so long?”
She’d checked into a motel close by, so it wouldn’t take long to repack the clothes into her bag. Most everything she’d brought to Miami was still in her suitcase, with the exception of hang-up clothes. Used to traveling on a shoestring, within an hour, she could shower, dress, pack, and be on her way to the airport and out of town, depending on when she could grab a flight.
“Do you remember the story in connection with Tate Hunter’s wife about a year and a half ago here in Miami? She met with a boating accident while on an outing with Tate.”
Lexi closed her eyes, and in her mind, visualized the headlines. “Yes. I do recall the story. Sad he'd lost his wife. I didn’t know him personally, but had only heard good things from the media and some of my co-workers. I’m sure he was thankful and relieved, when suspicions of homicide died down.”
“I’m sure of it, too.” Ralph pulled at his red suspenders, then looked at her over black-rimmed glasses perched at the end of his nose. “We were actually lucky to have someone give us a call. Someone who thinks he spotted Tate in Hideaway Harbor, South Carolina. If indeed he is there, I’m putting money on the fact that he won’t be any too pleased to see you. Especially, when he finds out why you’re there. So, prepare and plan the job accordingly.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” she said, while she twisted her chestnut ponytail more secure inside the rubber band. “If this story is so important, would you care to tell me why aren’t you covering the feature yourself?”
“I may be wrong, but considering the circumstances, I think he’ll be more approachable if a female journalist is on the job. Which is why you’re here. Besides, you’re the best I have and I can’t spare the time to cover scoops any longer.”
Lexi, frowned. “Why now? What’s the interest in Tate Hunter after so long? Shouldn’t you leave the poor man alone? He has lost his wife. Are you heartless or just snooping for that, ‘give the mag a push’, story?”
Ralph blew out a noisy breath as he eased a hip on top of the desk’s edge. “Mr. Hunter left Miami and hasn’t been heard from since a few months after the drowning. His wife’s sister has still been on the guilty kick concerning Tate, even though no further evidence at the inquest was necessary to bring charges against him. Never-the-less, his sister-in-law is on a rampage again. Tate worshipped his wife. Anyone who knew them would bear witness to their affection for one another.”
“Everyone except his sister-in-law.” Lexi squinted her eyes. “So why not look for him here first?”
“I’ve had someone on it already. While it’s unlikely Tate’s still in this area, and as I’ve already said rumor has it, from a reliable source, that he’s been spotted in Hideaway Harbor. Maybe he’s settled down there, maybe not, but if he is, I want to be the first to break the story. I want to know what Tate’s been up to, or if he’s seeing anyone. You know, get the low-down on him. He was the finest sportscaster WCJD ever employed. There must be some exciting news on him by now. He’s newsworthy. Drop by the Hideaway Harbor Times and speak with the owner, Garrett Webb. If Tate is indeed there, he may be able to give you a lead on his whereabouts.”
“I will, but I’m not fond of being a part of creating distressing news and dragging people through the mud, especially someone I know zero about.”
“Come on, Lexi. We aren’t dragging Tate through the mud, as you put it, simply bringing him to the forefront.”
“Great guns, Ralph. We’ve worked together long enough for you to remember how I feel concerning specific ways of obtaining an interview.”
“Lexi. You’re a journalist. Get over it.” Ralph jerked off his hat and slapped it against his leg. “Do you want the job or not?”
“I always have, gotten over it, as you said and as you know. And…yes. I do want the job. I simply don’t like the tactics.”
“Well then, focus on the story. By the way, instead of having to use your credit card, a company credit card is in the envelope. Use it for expenses.”
You can bet on it. The card will come in handy.
Though she wouldn’t abuse it, Lexi would have no problem applying Ralph’s card for her expenditures.
None at all.
Ralph waved a hand toward the other side of the office. “If you’d like to make some calls, you may use the corner office.”
As luck would have it, Lexi was fortunate enough to grab a flight at noon today. The flight should take about an hour and half. The drive from Savannah up the coast to Hideaway Harbor was about an hour away, so allowing time to pick up a rental car, and what other incidentals may pop up, she should arrive in Hideaway Harbor between three and four, give or take, this afternoon.
She’d committed. It was time to get this trip and story over with. The sooner the better.
But once she’d begun to wind down, and with the long drive from home to Miami this morning, fatigue had settled in. She was tired and hungry for something more substantial than doughnuts, but more worn out than hungry.
Desperate for a good night’s rest, once she arrived in Savannah, she’d rent a car, grab a room, then after a relaxing shower, order in a scrumptious seafood dinner. Then snuggle down and pray her mom had no emergencies that required her attention tonight.
A strange nagging inside her head, revealed she may need more than one good night’s rest. Who knew what issues the next week or two would transpire?
She had a house to furnish, a mom to care for and deliver herself from her overbearing temporary boss. While Ralph occasionally hired her for special assignments, they’d never formed a true friendship. They did understand each other though, so she wasn’t burning any bridges. That was her expectation anyway. If he balked at the extra night’s motel room, which he was subject to do, she’d simply pay the expense herself. No problem. Food and sleep were the two concerns heavy on her mind at the moment.
Though leery about tearing into someone’s private life for no good reason, Lexi was prepared to meet the extraordinary Tate Hunter, interview him and get back to more important matters at hand.
Copyright ©2022 by Carol DeVaney
All rights reserved. These novels, stories and any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
All rights reserved. These novels, stories and any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.