Finder's Fee by Alton Gansky Read Free Book Online

left with another man. His father once told him he had hired a private detective to find her. The man did, in Brazil, living in a small home and addicted to some kind of drug.
    He never heard from her again. Marlin didn’t care. The woman left when he was still a toddler. What kind of mother does that?
    He grew up with no maternal influence. One mother had dumped him; the other had stolen his inheritance. Within a year of the marriage, she-who-would-steal-all had become the new figurehead for the company. His father had said many times, “Judith has the looks and personality to put the likes of Martha Stewart in her place.” In quiet moments, young Marlin wondered if that was the reason for the marriage. Did his father need a pretty face to take the firm to the next level? Maybe he never loved her.
    That thought made him feel good.
    His day neared. It came closer with each sweep of the second hand around the face of the clock. Marlin resumed his pacing. Vice president wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot. He needed to be in control; control of everything. And only one woman stood in his way.
    For now.
    The last thought brought him some peace.
    He had done his planning. He had counted his supporters. He had done favors by the score, and people, including several board members, owed him big time. He had to wait for just the right time, and that time would come at next week’s board meeting.

seven
    T he video editing room had an acrid, electronic smell to it. More than once, Karen Rose had suggested the need for better ventilation, but none of her immediate superiors listened. So once again, she sat in an overused-beyond-its-years secretary’s chair that groaned and squeaked with every move she made. “Get it done and get it out,” she said to herself. The video recorders and computers hummed, filling the small space with white noise that most ceased to hear five minutes after they entered the room.
    The equipment was a mix of new and old. Channel 2 news was a competitor in the volatile television news market but not a wealthy one. While some stations had state-of-the-art computers and software, KTOT — known to disgruntled employees as K-ROT — had to make do with videotape decks that should have been scrapped five years ago. Frugality was the wind that drove this news ship — and it was running the organization aground. KTOT’s competitors in the Los Angeles market made stars of their news team, but not KTOT. Being part of the LA market gave it some credibility but those on the inside knew that reporters came to K TOT to pad their résumés and to stay only long enough to be picked up by some other station. Karen had often wondered if Lawrence Media, which owned the station, kept it for its tax-loss potential. That had to be it. Karen Rose worked for a station designed to be nothing more than a write-off on some executive’s ledger book.
    Still, she came to work every day, investigated news stories, wrote copy, and did all the duties common to a televisionreporter. She also waited. Waited for her cell phone to ring or an email to arrive from another station offering her a better job. She had been waiting two years.
    Turning her attention back to editing the videotape, her image, microphone close to her mouth, was motionless before her. Just thirty-two, she felt she looked older by half a decade. The woman who looked back at her wore neat brown hair to the shoulder and pale lipstick and displayed hazel eyes under gracefully arched eyebrows. Her gray, off-the-rack business jacket, matching slacks, and white blouse gave her an air of professionalism. Karen acknowledged that she was not a stunning beauty, but she was also far from being the wicked witch of the west. She was good enough to be in front of the camera, but lacked the eye-candy appeal that had become the hallmark of twenty-first century newscasting.
    She made the final digital cut, ejected the videotape, and exited