Okay, get this on our news budget and give me a story within the hour. Did we get art with it?
Yes. Gabe Atwaters got some dramatic stuff.
All right.
Theres still a few people I need to talk to.
I want a story in an hour, Kate. You can update through the day.
And the conference?
Well send a stringer.
Kate ended her call.
As she turned to look for Gabe, she stepped directly into FBI agent Nick Varner.
Youre something else, Kate, Ill give you that. He was tapping her business card in his hand and shaking his head. You want to know everything, and you want to know it now.
Im a reporter, Agent Varner. Its what I do.
Youre doing a helluva job.
Well, thats what Im paid for. Whats your problem, anyway?
Im telling you for the last time. Varner jabbed a finger toward Kate. Do not jeopardize this case.
And Im telling you, Im not going away.
17
Roseoak Park, New York
Gabe Atwaters Jeep Patriot accelerated down Orchard Boulevard. Destination: Dixon Donlevy Mutual Life Insurance, Lori Fultons employer.
Kate eyed the dashboard clock.
Like all reporters, she worked to a perpetual deadline ticking down on her. Most would be writing their story right now. They wouldve made a quick phone call to the company, plugged in its response and filed.
Not Kate.
She was old-school and still believed in digging for information face-to-face, abiding by the wisdom a rumpled old police reporter in San Francisco had once passed to her. Phone somebody, you get one story. Talk to them in person, youll get more than one story.
Almost there, Gabe said, glancing at his GPS.
Kate would make her deadline. She was a fast writer. She reviewed her notes, mentally shaping her story, still vexed by Tilden and Varner for jamming her at the Fultons house. Why were they in her face? Especially Varner, the good-looking FBI agent. Why was he being a hard-ass when she was only doing her job?
Maybe Im getting close to something
Here we go. Gabe stopped in front of a six-story rectangle of blue-tinted glass that reflected the small plaza across the street. Youre on your own, Kate. Ive got to get to another job in Brooklyn. Call the photo desk if anything breaks. We got plenty of freelancers in Queens.
Thats fine. Ill write in the coffee shop in there- Kate nodded to the plaza across the street -then cab it back to the office. Thanks, Gabe.
Dixon Donlevy was on the fifth floor of the glass building.
As the elevator rose, Kate weighed the pros and cons of making a cold visit. Sure, showing up without an appointment wasnt ideal, but her competitors may have already called-even been here in person. She had to keep moving.
She stepped from the elevator, went down a polished hallway and passed through the brass-plated doors of Dixon Donlevy Mutual Life Insurance.
The lobby floor gleamed against the dark wood desk where the receptionist sat. A huge shield encircling a mountain range against a blue sky and the companys name graced the wall behind her.
Can I help you?
Hi, Im Kate Page. Im a reporter with Newslead. She placed her card on the counter. Id like to speak with Lori Fultons supervisor. Itll only take a moment.
Do you have an appointment?
No. Sorry, but Im facing a tight deadline.
The receptionist took Kates card and examined it.
Please, have a seat, she said, nodding to the waiting area.
The cushioned chairs were inviting, but Kate chose to stand by the gurgling water of a hanging wall fountain.
Excuse me? The receptionist called to Kate a few minutes later, her hand over the phones mouthpiece. Im told were not making any statements to the press at this time.
Excuse me? The receptionist called to Kate a few minutes later, her hand over the phones mouthpiece. Im told were not making any statements to the press at this time.
I understand, but its important I speak with someone while Im here, to ensure my story is accurate concerning this company. Someone could talk to me now, or explain to their boss why they didnt after the story is published.
One moment.
Kate couldnt hear what the receptionist said into the phone, so she turned back to the fountain until she ended her call.
Someone will be out shortly.
Thank you.
Kate moved from the fountain, admiring the landscape paintings, the palms in the floor planters, all the while shaping her story and checking the time. She was glancing at a glossy travel magazine featuring treks across Iceland on the cover when a tall woman in a well-cut navy skirt suit arrived.
Youre Kate Page?
Yes.
Denise Marigold, with Corporate Communications.
Thank you for seeing me. In the wake of whats happened, I just had a few questions about Lori Fulton, an employee of yours.
Weve only just been informed about whats happened by police and really cant comment at this time.
I just need to confirm how long Lori Fultons been employed here.
Unfortunately, given the gravity of the situation, we really cant discuss her employment here or her previous employment, the whole situation. We have to refer all questions to the authorities. Okay?
I understand. Can you offer any statement at all?
Marigolds face creased in thought. We can say this-were deeply concerned for Lori and her family, and were cooperating fully with police in every way possible.
Kate wrote down every word.
Denise Marigold didnt give her much, but it was something, Kate thought as she hurried across the street to Fredricos Coffee Shop. She got a coffee and an apple muffin, found an empty table and began writing. Shutting out the noise of the busy shop, Kate entered her zone, concentrating as she wrote on her phone. Her story came together quickly as she firmed up the structure, inserting the quotes and details shed managed to gather.
She proofread it twice, then sent it to Reeka Beck.
Kate checked the time. Shed made her deadline. She reached for her coffee and muffin to savor a small celebration. As she ate, something Denise Marigold had said niggled at her. She looked at her notebook, rereading the words shed underlined, previous employment. Kate replayed Marigolds comment on her recorder: cant comment on her employment here or her previous employment
Thats an odd thing to say. Is Loris previous employment somehow a factor?
Kate gave it consideration before growing cognizant of the conversation people were having at a table behind her.
he robbed his own bankthey cant find Lori
Kate withdrew her compact mirror from her bag and made as if to check her hair. Tilting it, she saw the two women and a man who were talking about the case. They had to be Lori Fultons coworkers, she thought, as one of the women continued.
my sister lives on the same street. I was talking to her this morning, she told me Lori didnt show up for work
Kate put her mirror away and sat a little straighter, eavesdropping until they prepared to leave. Keeping her back to them, she cleared her table, put her garbage in the trash and left ahead of the group. She waited in the street, and when the group exited, she went toward them.
Excuse me. But by any chance, do you happen to work in that building? Kate indicated the glass office complex across the street.
Yeah, the man said.
Im looking for people who work at Dixon Donlevy Insurance.
Why?
Do you guys work there?
Maybe. Who are you? the man asked.
Kate Page. Im a reporter with Newslead. She took her Newslead ID from her bag and showed it to them. Im covering the robbery at the SkyNational bank. Ive been to the bank, the Fulton home and Ive spoken with Denise Marigold. Im looking for people who know Lori Fulton. Do any of you work with her? Maybe you know her and her husband, Dan? Hes the manager of the bank that was robbed.
The man and women exchanged silent looks as if waiting to decide who among them would answer.
We dont know her that well, one of the women said. She works in another department-insurance fraud.
I worked with her for a short time when I was in fraud, the second woman said.
Could I talk to you folks for a minute? Kate took out her notebook. Id be happy to tell you what we know.
Did the police find them? the second woman asked.
Not yet.
Dear Lord, the woman said. Wed heard that Dan was forced to rob his bank, that someone took Lori and Billy hostage. Is that true?
From what Ive heard, its true, Kate said. What can you tell me about Lori?
Shes a good person. They love her here. I think shes involved at her sons school and never misses a ball game.
How long has she been with the company?
The woman looked to her friends. Five years, maybe?
The others nodded and shrugged. Around that, I think, offered the man.
You say she worked in fraud. Did she ever receive any threats from one of her cases?
The group exchanged concerned looks.
We havent heard anything like that, the women said.
Do you know where she worked before coming to Dixon Donlevy?
No idea, the woman said.
I think they lived in Nevada, or Arizona or someplace around there, the man said.
Do you know what Lori did when she lived there?
No, the second woman interjected, but I heard from someone in our section that the family had some tragedy out there.
Really? What kind of tragedy?
The three of them shook their heads and shrugged.
And it was in Nevada or Arizona?
Not sure, the second woman said. I did hear that Lori didnt like to talk about it.
It wasnt much, but office gossip counted for something. As Kate made notes, the man looked at his phone.
We should be getting back, he said.
Can I get your names before you go? Kate asked.
Not mine, the man said. I dont want to be quoted.
The women declined to give their names, as well, and started to cross the street with the man.
Wait, please, Kate said. Let me give you my card. Id be happy to share any information we have on the case as it develops. Please, call me if you hear anything more. Please. Thanks.
18
Roseoak Park, New York
A few miles from Dixon Donlevy where Kate Page had questioned people on Lori Fultons history, investigators at the bank were probing Dan Fultons background.
In one of the empty offices, Ted Shummard, SkyNationals regional security director, had loosened his tie and was tapping his pen on the desk as he read Dan Fultons personnel file on the computer monitor. Human Resources at headquarters had emailed it ten minutes earlier, in response to his demand. Send me every damned thing we have on Fulton and send it now!