Cold Fear by Rick Mofina Read Free Book Online

been stabbed.
There was trouble in the family, a vendetta between the parents over custody of
the girl. Meanwhile, Dad’s fled to Brazil or Bolivia.
    “Well,” Reed sighed. “We know zip on this one. In a
short time, I am outta here. Maybe you should brace yourself for a trip to Montana, kid.”
    Reed’s line rang. It was Zeke Canter, the new metro
editor. “Tom, come to my office, please.”
    Reed got along with Canter. In his mid-forties, dressed
in L.L. Bean shirts and Dockers, Canter was trim and fit, about an inch under
six feet. Kind, thoughtful, razor-sharp and quick, stemming from fifteen years
in New York with the Daily News and Newsday . National Editor
Violet Stewart was on the phone in Canter’s office and making notes.
    “So the next one to Salt Lake leaves in ninety minutes,
just in time to connect to Kalispell.”
    That was all Reed needed to hear.
    “No. I am on vacation in--like almost now.”
    Stewart hung up, removed her bifocals, letting them hang
from her chain necklace. “Tom, we really would like to you to get there
tonight.”
    “No.”
    “This is shaping into something. She’s from San Francisco. Ten years old,” Canter said, dropping a printout of an updated wire story.
    “Look,” Stewart had a color photo of Paige Baker. “This
just moved.”
    A beautiful child whose face could melt your heart.
Reed’s stomach tensed. This was moving fast in the direction of a potentially
huge story. “What about Molly?” he said.
    “You will be a team. She’ll work every angle from here,
but we want you there. Tom, you are from Montana. It’s tailor made for you,”
Canter said.
    “We guarantee you will not miss the Chicago wedding,”
Violet said.
    “Let me make one call. Excuse me.”
    Back at his desk, Reed punched his wife’s cell phone
number. He never knew which store Ann was at. This was going to be sweet. Wilson blinked up at him with a grand smile. “Who’s going to Montana, cowboy?”
    Reed scratched his nose with his middle finger for Wilson
as Ann answered her phone. Reed explained. She was not pleased.
    “Tom, you’re on vacation! We’re visiting family and we
have a wedding. We’re both in the wedding party. Usher. Bridesmaid. Remember!
And there’s something else. Or did you forget?”
    He had forgotten until that very moment, suddenly
recalling how Ann had talked about privately requesting the minister to renew
their vows because of all they had been through.
    “You want to risk missing this?”
    “No. Absolutely not,” Reed said. “You go on ahead with
Zach and I’ll fly out from Montana, take all my stuff. The Star will
have to swallow any costs. They have guaranteed that I’ll be in Chicago for the wedding.”
    “Tom, you better not be falling into your old habits.”
    Reed sat down, explaining more to Ann about the story of
Paige Baker, the girl lost in the wilderness, while simultaneously glancing at
the newsroom clock, estimating flight time, driving to Glacier, time zone
difference. Filing a story. Finally, Ann said, “I did not sign on to be a
single parent, mister.”
    “Mister,” that was the word. Anne’s code for I’m
pissed off but here’s my loving approval, you jerk.
    “Ann, I love you.”
    Reed was bent over, struggling to retrieve his emergency
travel bag from under his desk. “I am nothing without you, Ann. Hug Zach for
me.”
    Wilson rolled her eyes.
    Reed returned to Canter’s office where the editors
discussed what the Star wanted from Reed in Montana and Wilson in San Francisco.
    “If the little Baker girl story fizzles,” Violet said
“would you consider, stress consider , a full-page feature on the case of
Isaiah Hood, the guy scheduled for execution in a few days? He is expected to
lose his final appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court. You will be there, after all.”
    “Violet, please. Just staple the name of a divorce
lawyer to that request.”
    “Tom, you’re going to be right there, and again, we are
going to have you in