The Cost of Commitment - KJ2 Read Online Free PDF Page B

much like an angel. Sighing, she kissed her gently on the forehead, grabbed a robe from the bathroom, and headed downstairs to her office where Jay’s rest wouldn’t be disturbed by conversation.
    “Okay Mr. Wenger, what can I do for you?”
    “I understand an inmate died tonight at the Auburn Correctional Facility. Is that right?”
    “Yes, that’s correct.”
    “According to my sources, his name was Nathaniel Diggs, a guy doing time for murdering his girlfriend after she told him she was pregnant.”
    “The next of kin hasn’t been notified yet, so I cannot confirm or release any information about the deceased at this time.”
    “C’mon, Ms. Kyle, just tell me if I’m right or not. You know I am, all you have to do is confirm it.”
    “When’s your deadline, Danny?”

    Lynn Ames

    “It was two hours ago. They’re holding a few inches of space for me for the next half hour.”
    “Tell you what; I’lll try everything within my power to get you a yes or no before that time.”
    “Thanks.”
    “But if I can’t give you something either way by your deadline, you leave any supposition or unconfirmed rumor out of the piece.”
    “How am I supposed to scoop the early TV news if you don’t help me here?” He sounded like a petulant child.
    “Danny, ever hear the expression ‘it’s better to be right than first’? I think that applies here, okay?” In fact, Kate already knew the name of the deceased and that of the inmate who killed him. It just so happened that she was trying to save Danny’s ass—Nathaniel Diggs was actually the murderer, not the victim, although she couldn’t tell the reporter that until the dead man’s family had been notified. The only question now was whether or not this eager, young journalist was smart enough to listen between the words. Guess she’d find out later that day when the Auburn Citizen was published; since the victim’s family was in Ghana, West Africa, she seriously doubted she’d be able to give the press anything before the late editions in the afternoon.
    She had barely placed the receiver back in the cradle when it rang again.
    “Kate? This is Wendy Ashton from the Associated Press. How’ve you been?”
    “Great, Wendy, how’s life treating you?”
    “Can’t complain. My girlfriend does plenty of that for both of us.”
    “Ah, hates that you work the night beat, eh?”
    “You’ve got that right.”
    “Well, I’m pretty sure you didn’t call me at 2:40 a.m. to commiserate about your love life.”
    “Nah. Heard about the dead dude out at Auburn. Sounds like he got sliced up pretty good.”
    Ah, now here was a smart reporter. She stated her supposition as fact, expecting Kate simply to acknowledge her statement. Very slick.
    “I’m sorry, Wendy, I don’t have anything for you on cause of death or weapon yet. Wish I could help you there. I can tell you that a suspect is in custody.”
    “Very cute, Kate. Aren’t they all in custody inside a prison?”
    Oh, she was good. “Yes, but this one is in the SHU.”
    “He’s in the special housing unit?”
    “Yes.”
    “Was he there before this incident put him there? You know, already in isolation?”

    The Cost of Commitment

    “Yes.”
    “Well, that narrows it down, now doesn’t it? Why, there must be only 83 or so guys in twenty-three-hour-a-day lockdown, right?”
    “Look on the bright side, Wendy: that’s better than the 1,785 that are in the general population.”
    “Gee, thanks. I hear from reliable sources that this isn’t the first dustup at Auburn this week. Any chance they’re connected?”
    There was no sense denying that there had been other incidents; it was a matter of public record. “It’s a little too early in the investigation to tell, Wendy. They’re still sorting it out.”
    “When will you know?”
    “Hard to say. I’d tell you to try back early next week. I might have something for you then.”
    And so the rest of the short night went. At a little after 3:45