First to Die

Chapter 1 5

AT THE OFFICES of the San Francisco Chronicle, Cindy Thomas's frantic brain was just barely staying ahead of her fingers. The afternoon deadline was barely an hour away. From a bellhop at the Hyatt, she had been able to obtain the names of two guests who had attended the Brandt wedding and who were still at the hotel. After running down there again last night, she had been able to put together a heart-wrenching, tragic picture- complete with vows, toasts, and a romantic last dance- of the bride and groom's final moments. All the other reporters were still piecing together the sparse details released by the police. She was ahead so far. She was winning, and it felt great. She was also certain this was the best writing she'd done since arriving at the Chronicle, and maybe since she'd been an undergraduate at Michigan. At the paper, Cindy's coup at the Hyatt had turned her into an instant celebrity. People she scarcely knew were suddenly stopping and congratulating her. Even the publisher, whom she rarely saw on the Metro floor, came down to find out who she was. Metro was covering some demonstration in Mill Valley about a construction rerouting that had built up traffic near a school zone. She was writing page one. As she typed, she noticed Sidney Glass, her city editor, coming up to her desk. Glass was known at the newspaper as El Sid. He parked himself across from her with a stiff sigh. "We need to talk." Her fingers slowly settled to a halt as she looked up. "I've got two very pissed-off senior crime reporters itching to get into this. Suzy's at City Hall awaiting a statement by the police chief and the mayor. Stone's put together profiles on both families. They have twenty years and two Pulitzers between them. And it is their beat." Cindy felt her heart nearly come to a stop. "What did you tell them?" she asked. In El Sid's hardened eyes, she could see the greedy first team crime staff, senior reporters with their own researchers, trying to hack their way in and carve this story up. Her story. "Show me what you've got," the city editor finally said. He came around, peered over her shoulder, read a few lines off the computer screen. "A lot of it's okay. You probably know that. "Anguished' belongs over here," he said, pointing at the screen. "It modifies 'bride's father." Nothing pisses Ida Morris off like misplaced modifiers and inversions." Cindy could feel herself blushing. "I know, I know. I'm trying to get this in. Deadline's at…" "I know when deadline is." The editor glowered. "But down here, if you can get it in, you can get it in right." He studied Cindy for what seemed an interminable duration, a deep, assessing stare that kept her on edge. "Especially if you intend to stay on this thing." Glass's generally implacable face twitched, and he almost smiled at her. "I told them it was yours, Thomas." Cindy repressed an urge to hug the cranky, domineering editor right on the bull pen floor. "You want me at City Hall?" she asked. "The real story's in that hotel suite. Go back to the Hyatt." El Sid began to walk away with his hands, as always, thrust into his trouser pockets. But a moment later, he turned back. "Course, if you intend to stay on this story, you'd better find a police source on the inside- and quick." Jl,