Death of an Intern

Death of an Intern by Keith M. Donaldson Read Free Book Online

Book: Death of an Intern by Keith M. Donaldson Read Free Book Online
Authors: Keith M. Donaldson
the kitchen. I took a quick look around. Sparse furnishings, not anything to say who lived here. “How long have you and Janet lived here?” I called out just as Marsha reentered the living room with water for me and some coffee for her. We sat on the sofa.
    â€œI was already here, going to Georgetown Law, camping out with two classmates, when Jan called to say she was coming to Washington to work for the Vice President.”
    â€œYou knew her from back in Iowa?”
    â€œHigh school.” She took a drink.
    I took a swig of water. This was not going to be easy. “You grew up together?”
    â€œPractically. I couldn't believe she was coming here.”
    â€œWhen exactly was that?”
    â€œA year ago January when the President was inaugurated.”
    â€œOh, of course.”
    â€œThis is a sublet. People from the previous administration. It's like that around here,” Marsha said offhandedly.
    â€œIt's lovely and convenient.” I was stalling, hating the inevitable.
    â€œMore so for Jan. I try to ride in with her; otherwise, it's a bus to the Pentagon and then take the Metro.”
    Marsha would be taking lots of buses from now on. I took a drink and girded myself to drop the bomb, but my cell phone rang.
    â€œMay I? It may be my other friend.” I answered “Yes?” into the phone.
    Max Walsh's voice came on. “We've corroborated her identity from her fingerprints. You in your office?”
    â€œNo, but I'll be there shortly.” I tried to make it sound like I was talking to my fictitious friend.
    â€œYou back on the boat?” Max asked.
    â€œI'm in Virginia now.”
    â€œWhat are you up to?”
    â€œI stopped by Janet Rausch's. I'm with her roommate, Marsha Hines.” I knew Max would pick up on that and record Marsha's name. The woman was looking at me questioningly.
    â€œYou haven't told her?” Max asked.
    I felt a burst of anxiety. “No.”
    â€œThat's not my jurisdiction. You had better walk softly.”
    â€œLight like a butterfly. I'll call you when I leave.” I clicked off. “I'm sorry.”
    â€œOh no, I was just surprised that you mentioned my name.”
    I took my press credential from my bag. “I met Janet two nights ago. We talked. I admired her grandmother's pin.”
    â€œIsn't it beautiful?”
    I showed her my ID. “I work for the Washington Daily Star. I'm a reporter.”
    â€œYou interviewing Jan or something?” Her voice was tinted with excitement.
    â€œI wish.” I paused, steadying my nerves. “No. I came to see you.”
    â€œMe? How did you know about me?”
    â€œI was given your name this morning by someone who works for the Vice President.”
    â€œWhy? Oh. Something's wrong isn't it? Something happened to Jan?” Her voice pitched up.
    â€œMarsha. Janet was killed last night.”
    â€œOh God, oh no…NOOOO!” The young woman wailed, and began to rock back and forth. Her coffee spilled. She flailed her hands as though attempting to rid herself of a pesky bee.
    This would not be something Marsha could brush away.
    â€œNo, no, no,” the stricken woman lowed.
    I made an attempt to comfort her, but she fought me off.
    â€œYou came to tell me, didn't you? Why?” She rocked in her seat.
    â€œI was called by my editor to go to where a body had been found. The woman had no ID. I recognized her.”
    Marsha moaned in agony.
    â€œCan I do anything for you, get you something?”
    Marsha shook her head violently, jumped up, moved jerkily, confused, and then ran up the stairs.
    I watched as the despondent woman fled, tears filling my eyes. Screw trying to be objective. I hurt for this woman, for Janet. Janet's family. They might be getting the grizzly news about now too. A lovely daughter, stolen from them.
    Marsha's lamenting, loud crying like muted screams, most likely into a pillow, cascaded down the stairs. Her torrent of

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