Triumph by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online Page A

national Emmy is twice that size.”
    Deke bent over the case for a closer look at the statuettes. “Outstanding Feature Reporting. Outstanding Investigative Journalism,” he read aloud. “Any of these yours?”
    “Do you see my name engraved on the bases?”
    He straightened. Her clipped reply told him a lot. “I don’t, no. Guess you’re working on that.”
    “Hell yes.” She pointed to the glass door ahead of them with the bagged press pass in her hand. “There’s the way out.”
    “Thanks. I’ll take that, by the way.”
    Kelly put her hand behind her back. “No way. I’m keeping this.”
    “It’s evidence.”
    “You’re not a cop. You haven’t told me what you are. The pass is mine.”
    “You can’t use it.”
    “Oh yes, I can.”
    Kelly used that trick of walking toward him to maneuver him toward the door again. A beefy security guard was coming down the corridor behind her. Deke slowed down some. It was all he could do.
    “With a bullet hole in it? For what?” he asked.
    “An opener. It’s a great visual.”
    He stopped in his tracks. “But—”
    Deke shut up, aware that the security guard had stopped too and was eying him.
    “No story, no glory,” Kelly said. “I want both.”

C HAPTER 3
    T he soft sky of a Southern evening had turned into velvet night by the time Kelly slipped out of Club Kiss Kiss, tired of the unbearable noise and the crush of people inside.
    She’d showed up for the grand opening fifteen minutes late, but she’d done it in style, driving up to the red-carpeted entrance of the club in a limo provided by the station. There had been a uniformed chauffeur at the wheel and another uniform in charge of opening the rear door for her. She’d stepped out to applause and cheers.
    After a frantic search, her jammed closet had coughed up an outfit that fit the occasion. Thin straps of faux diamonds twined over her shoulders, barely enough to support the handkerchief-pointed dark blue silk of the short dress. Stiletto sandals in a darker blue went well with it. Hair flowing free, real diamond studs in her ears, and she was done.
    June’s makeup job had been on the light side, thank goodness. Kelly hadn’t had the time to take it off and start over.
    She was good at landing on her feet, whether they were bare or in high heels.
    With a lot of fanfare, Kelly had cut the ribbon with Monroe Capp at her side. The club’s security detail had seemed more interested in getting into the pictures than in holding back the surging crowd. It wasn’t all about her. The Kiss Kiss owners had persuaded or paid other local celebrities to appear.
    “Be nice to the fans. It’s great for our ratings,” Monroe had muttered in her ear as he escorted her through the door.
    Kelly had shaken lots of hands, posed with bigwigs, smiled brilliantly for the cameras, and sipped iced tea. Duty done. She wanted to get home. She’d slipped the chauffeur a twenty and a spare key to retrieve her car from the WBRX parking lot and stash it in a nearby parking garage for a quick, discreet exit.
    The street in back of the new club was deserted and eerily quiet. Atlanta’s renowned nightlife was mostly contained within high walls of new hotels and towers. Some venues were underground in vaulted, spectacularly lit spaces where the revelry never seemed to end.
    Kelly looked down the empty street, seeing no one, forcibly reminded of the abandoned building halfway across town.
    This neighborhood was far more posh. But the darkness seemed solid as concrete, slashed only occasionally with light when an unseen door opened somewhere. She walked quickly, ignoring a gleaming SUV emitting a thumping bass as it rolled past her and picked up speed. An all-night party on wheels—one of the newer Atlanta traditions.
    Up ahead was the long neon sign of the garage. She was nearly there. Kelly breathed a sigh of relief. A prickle of warning and the odd sensation that she was being followed made her turn around suddenly. She