I've Got You Under My Skin

8

The agreements to participate in the reenactment of the events of the Graduation Gala had trickled in to Laurie’s office one by one. The last of them had taken nearly two weeks, and it was from Nina Craig. The letter stated that she had consulted a lawyer and there were additional conditions she felt were appropriate. Robert Powell should put in escrow two hundred fifty thousand dollars for each of the four graduates, and it should be a net sum to each of them. Fisher Blake Studios must also offer fifty thousand net to the graduates. “Both Mr. Powell and Fisher Blake can well afford to compensate us fairly,” Nina had written. “And now that I have contacted my longtime childhood friends, I realize that we have all suffered emotional damage from being in the Powell home the night Betsy Bonner Powell lost her life. I believe by once again exposing ourselves to the glare of publicity, we are surrendering our hard-earned anonymity, for which we should receive appropriate compensation.”

Dismayed, Laurie reread the letter. “To net them that much money will mean we’d just about have to double what we’re paying them,” she said.

“I don’t think Brett will go for it.” Jerry Klein’s flat tone did not match the disappointment that came over his face. He had signed for the certified letter from Ms. Nina Craig and carried it into Laurie’s office.

“He’s got to go along with it,” Laurie said. “And I think he will. He’s been talking the series up, and he won’t want to pull back now.”

“Well he won’t be happy about it.” The worried expression on Jerry’s face deepened. “Laurie, I hope you haven’t put yourself out on a limb with this Under Suspicion idea.”

“I hope not, too.” Laurie looked out the window toward the Rockefeller Center skating rink. It was a warm day for early April, and there were few skaters on the ice. Soon the rink would be gone, and the area it covered would be filled with tables and chairs for outside dining.

Once in a while Greg and I used to have dinner out there, she thought as a wave of longing for him swept over her. She knew why it had come at this moment. The show was about closure. Even though she had no intention of revealing her concern to either Jerry or Grace, she knew Jerry was right. After becoming openly enthusiastic about the project, her boss, Brett Young, would probably rather double the price he had agreed to pay the participants than back out.

“What about Robert Powell?” Jerry was asking. “Do you think he’ll pony up and pay the taxes so they clear the two hundred and fifty grand?”

“I can only ask,” Laurie said. “And I think I’d better do it in person. I’ll call and ask if he can see me today.”

“Shouldn’t you check with Brett first?” Jerry suggested.

“No. There’s no use in getting him going if it’s a lost cause. If Powell doesn’t agree to pay, our next move has to be for me to fly to Los Angeles and see if Nina Craig can be persuaded to accept our offer. The others all agreed to the original terms, but it’s obvious she got them stirred up.”

“What will you tell her?” Jerry asked.

“The truth. If necessary we’ll do it without her, and that wouldn’t look good for her. And don’t forget that Betsy Bonner Powell was forty-two years old when she died. She’d be only sixty-two or sixty-three now. Today many people live well into their eighties. Betsy was robbed of half of the life she might have enjoyed if someone hadn’t held a pillow over her face that night. The person who did that has woken up every morning since then and been able to enjoy a brand-new day while Betsy’s body is in a casket in a cemetery.”

Laurie knew her voice had become heated and angry and that it wasn’t just about Betsy Bonner Powell. It was about Greg and the fact that his killer was a free man. Not only free, but a living, breathing threat to her and Timmy. Then she said, “Sorry, Jerry. I know that I have to be careful not to make this sound like a personal crusade.”

She picked up the phone. “Time to make another appointment with Robert Nicholas Powell.”