Life Without Parole: A Kate Conway Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page B

waiting for. Booking a producer this late meant Ralph and his production team were either disorganized, cheap, or a nightmare to work with.
    “I’m actually booked on something right now,” I said.
    “With Ladies Productions.” He sounded confident now. “I talked with Lauren. She loves you.”
    “It’s mutual,” I said. “So she told you I was working for her.”
    “But she said your next shoot was late next week. What we’re doing is just a day here and there for the next three months. We can work around your schedule.”
    Tempting, but my gut was telling me to pass. “I appreciate the offer, but there are a lot of great producers out there.”
    “The investors are some of the top people in Chicago business. They’re skittish about letting us in on the behind-the-scenes of their opening, so I really need someone who is completely professional,” he said. “And, to be honest, they’re also media savvy. Unless I have a pro in there, I’m just going to get back nothing but canned PR sound bites that will completely alienate my audience.”
    Working with “media savvy, top Chicago businesspeople” sounded like a total bore, giving me one more reason to walk away. “I appreciate the offer, but—”
    “I’ll pay your day rate plus twenty-five percent.”
    I blinked, taking more than a few seconds to let it sink in. A television production company was willing to pay me more than I was asking. I knew it was a mistake. Every ounce of my body, every day of more than a decade’s worth of experience was telling me it was a mistake. But twenty-five percent more than my day rate was the urban myth of freelancing.
    “Fine,” I said. “But I invoice weekly and expect to be paid within fourteen days.” That part was improvised. I usually invoiced at the end of the job and prayed I’d get a check before thirty days. Not an easy miracle, since several production companies seem to think that paying anytime before the next ice age is fine.
    “Not a problem,” he said without missing a beat. “I’ll e-mail you the details.” Then he hung up, without giving me a chance to change my mind.

    “I don’t actually know him,” Lauren confessed the next morning when I reached her. “He’s sort of a friend of a friend. He called me asking about you.”
    “Looking for a recommendation?” I asked.
    “Not really.” Icould hear hesitation. “He seemed more interested in your schedule than your qualifications.”
    “So you didn’t recommend me?”
    “Oh, God, of course I did—”
    “No, Lauren, what I mean is he said that he had heard great things about me, but he obviously heard them before he called you,” I said. “So now I’m wondering who.”
    “You’re great,” she said. “I’m sure he heard it from lots of people.”
    “But you don’t know anything about him?”
    Silence, then: “I’m sure he’s not a creep. The Business Channel wouldn’t hire him if he were. You could do an Internet search if you’re worried.”
    “That’s a good idea.”
    It was such a good idea I’d done it already, about ten seconds after I’d spoken to him. Ralph Johnson had worked on shows for the Business Channel for about five years, had won several Emmys, and had previously worked at ABC News. That didn’t help much.
    All I knew was that someone had given me such a good recommendation that the Business Channel was willing to pay extra to get me. I should have been glad to hear I had a good reputation, but instead it made me nervous.

Eight
    F ive days later I walked into the abandoned bank that was being transformed into a high-end restaurant, and came face-to-face with my benefactor.
    “Kate!” She rushed toward me with arms outstretched, putting them down only at the last minute. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t like hugs.”
    “Vera?” I didn’t even bother hiding my surprise. “What are you doing here?”
    “I’m an investor in this restaurant we’re opening,” she said. “Didn’t you know