Bad News Travels Fast: A Nicki Sosebee Novel, #2

By Jade C. Jamison

There's always bad news to be sniffed out in Winchester, Colorado…

 

Nicki's got it bad for her best friend Sean, but she doesn't see her unrequited lust for him getting quenched anytime soon, so she buries herself in work. Shortly after interviewing a county commissioner, Nicki discovers that bad news travels fast when the commissioner's office assistant turns up dead. But one guy's bad news jumpstarts Nicki's nose for news, and she relishes the chance to do some investigative reporting.

 

Unfortunately, when she gets too close to comfort for the murderer, she finds herself in danger of becoming the next victim…

PLEASE NOTE: This book was previously published in 2011 as DEAD.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jade C. Jamison
• Release date: Jul 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201117535

Jade C. Jamison

1. Imagine 2. Play some music 3. Write 4. Blow readers away 5. RepeatJade C. Jamison is a steamy romance author, heavy metal fangirl, wife and mom, coffee connoisseur, cat lover, and vegan foodie--not necessarily in that order. She loves life and believes we learn our wisest lessons when reading, especially if it's fiction. Her heroines are fierce, her heroes all but broken, both seeking redemption together. Whether in a small Colorado town or big city, she strives to take her readers' breath away...one story at a time.Find out more at www.jadecjamison.com ORhttp://www.subscribepage.com/JadeCJamison (newsletter)

Book preview

Chapter 1

Nicki Sosebee sat in the overstuffed chair, feeling herself getting more impatient by the minute. She’d been sitting in the lobby of the Winchester County Commissioners for close to an hour.

What made the wait worse than it should have been was the upper-class tart Sara who was answering the phones. Nicki knew Sara from way back. When Nicki had been a freshman in high school, Sara was a senior. Not only had Sara been head cheerleader, she’d also been voted Most Likely to Succeed and was Vice President of the senior class. And she followed that up with attending CU-Boulder where she’d majored in Business. So why the fuck was she back in little ol’ Winchester? No doubt to make the life of Nicki and any other regular Joe sorry they were ever born.

Maybe that was an exaggeration—but after listening to Sara’s reedy voice as the woman talked on the phone most of the time she’d been sitting there, Nicki was at the end of her rope.

When Nicki had entered the County Commissioners’ office earlier, she hadn’t recognized Sara at first. In high school, the girl had had long bleach blonde hair and big breasts. Now, she had super-short brown hair and an average rack. But it didn’t take Nicki long to recognize the condescension in the woman’s tone and the particular timbre that seemed to find Nicki’s spinal cord and shake it. Had they not both been in theater productions together, Nicki wouldn’t have experienced the full entitled diva experience—but, having lived through it, there was no forgetting this woman.

Sara had perfected that her nice-yet-nasty way of talking in her youth and everything about her today reflected what a fake she was. She couldn’t quite pull off warm and friendly. Spoiled, though? Snobbish, as though everyone around her were inferior to her? Yep. So Nicki tried to ignore her but instead found herself judging this woman all over again from her spot across the room.

Sara’s nails were medium length, painted with a professional French manicure, not a hair out of place on her perfect head, her makeup not too dark but attractive. She wore a navy-blue suit with a skirt that ended just above her knees. Truly, she looked the part of a professional. But her smile…so fake, so rehearsed, Nicki thought she might puke.

Nicki kept her cool, though.

When she’d first introduced herself, it was clear that Sara didn’t remember her. While it might have been assumed that it was because Nicki had been too young, the truth was that Nicki and her ilk weren’t from the right families, meaning Sara wouldn’t have dreamed of taking her under her wing, even if they did play the same types on the stage. At least Nicki and company also weren’t disadvantaged enough (or maybe not viewed as competition) to become a target for the older girl’s mean jokes. Nicki might have had a general dislike of this princess back in the day, but now—having to listen to her nastiness on the phone with the commissioners’ constituents while she waited—she couldn’t stand her.

When Nicki had first arrived and Sara told her to have a seat, Nicki sat in silence, reviewing her interview questions and making sure she felt prepared. Usually, she found stories by sitting in a courtroom and following up on interesting cases. This time, though, her editor Neal Black had asked her to interview Commissioner Jeffrey Cannon. Because the reporter who usually covered political matters was on a much-deserved two-week vacation in Hawaii, Neal requested that Nicki do the honors. The commissioner had sent a press release to the paper a couple of days earlier announcing he was going to run for Colorado’s House of Representatives that fall. Big damn deal. But people in Winchester County were twitterpated that a local boy was aiming for the big time. While Nicki found it irritating and dull, she took the interview because her boss had asked. Up to this point, she’d been finding her own scoops and praying prayed her boss would print her articles, but this was the first time he’d given her an assignment. This was important, and she didn’t want to let him down.

Now, though, having sat in the lobby virtually ignored for the good part of an hour, Nicki wondered if this interview was just Neal’s way of throwing a bone at Cannon. After all, if the interview turned out to be nothing more than bullshit, Nicki as a rookie—Neal’s affectionate term for her—was the perfect person to send. She’d just have to make sure her article was good, in spite of the smelliness of the assignment.

Pulling her new phone out of her jacket pocket, she decided to text her best friend Sean while she waited. Her old burner phone had been destroyed last week when she’d been investigating the story that got her not only her first front page headline but also her biggest—one above the gutter, the fold in the paper. Having watched her friends with their smart phones, she knew she’d eventually get it, but she was still adjusting to hers. It took her a bit, but she finally found him in her contacts list. She’d bragged to Sean the day before about how she was moving up in the reporter world, interviewing local politicians. Hah. Not that he’d been impressed before, but once he heard about the real deal, he’d likely laugh.

It was hard for Nicki getting used to typing real sentences on her phone, but it made the writer in her happy. I’ve been sitting in this damned lobby for an hour! She sent it and then added an afterthought: You won’t believe who’s here.

Wiping her fingerprints off the screen, Nicki wondered if the money she would be shelling out for this thing would be worth it. After all, her old burner phone cost her twenty bucks a month if that. Working as a part-time reporter, full-time as a waitress, and selling makeup on the side meant every penny counted. But she’d been long overdue for an upgrade.

Nicki’s ears perked up when Sara started cooing over the phone. The woman had been nasty or simply cold with callers up to this point, so the change in register caught Nicki’s attention and she couldn’t help but look up. Mr. Cannon, you still have that reporter out here waiting for you. Sara’s eyes raked over Nicki as she said the words. How the woman managed to make Nicki feel inadequate with just the brush of her eyes, Nicki would never know. It must have been a technique she’d perfected throughout her life. Now Nicki felt almost naked in her knee-length black and red cotton plunging-neckline dress with the smart red jacket on top. Maybe it was the strappy black sandals that made her feel weird. She should have worn heels. No, it was probably the top part of the dress. Maybe to this sort of interview, she should have worn something that wouldn’t show off her assets. But she usually wore short skirts and thought a jacket would make the top okay.

Deep breath, Nicki. This would be fine. For Christ’s sake, she was dealing with a politician. His job was not to judge but instead to make people like him...or at least believe the image he projected.

Besides, in an effort to look professional, she’d pulled her long brown hair up into a demure bun and wore small pearl earrings and understated makeup. Nicki straightened her neck, reminding herself that she was becoming really good at this job. Don’t let stupid high school insecurities make you panic.

So she looked straight at Sara and allowed her lips to curl in the slightest of smiles, letting the woman know she’d heard her.

Then her phone vibrated in her lap, alerting her to Sean’s text. Lunch?

Nicki’s smile grew wider, blossoming into something more genuine. While Sean had been her best friend for more than a decade, he’d been her crush for eight years. Crush was too mild a word. Obsession too strong. Something in between. Meaning hell, yeah, she’d do lunch, so she texted yes back.

At last, County Commissioner Jeffrey Cannon decided to grace Nicki with his presence. When he stepped out from behind a wooden door, Nicki knew she’d recognize the man anywhere, because—when he’d run for Commissioner three years ago—his face had been plastered all over town on billboards, lawn signs, and posters in the windows of businesses all over Winchester. Now that he had the job, he made sure he appeared at this function and that gathering. The guy was everywhere, and it was hard avoiding seeing his face on a regular basis.

Brown hair slicked back, well-tailored dark gray suit, Commissioner Cannon looked every bit the part of career politician. Ms. Sosebee? Flashing his gleaming white smile, he extended his hand to Nicki. As she stood to meet him and shake his firm, warm hand and drank in that perfect smile, she wondered why she hadn’t noticed before how disarmingly good looking this polished dude was.

Jeffrey Cannon’s office was far from plain. In fact, it looked like a stereotypical business office—rich wooden shelves filled with enough books to make him look smart but not so many that the shelves were cluttered. The remaining spaces were filled with small framed pictures or the occasional artistic touch, like a vase. The back wall of his office looked down over one of the larger city parks, but his desk sat in front of the bookshelf, so both he and his visitor—Nicki, in this case—could look outside as the sun kissed the treetops.

No sooner had Cannon motioned to Nicki to seat herself across from his desk that his phone buzzed, and he pressed a button on it before speaking. Yes, Sara?

God, that bitch.

Mr. Cannon, I just wanted to remind you that you have a luncheon engagement you need to leave for in fifteen minutes.

If it were possible for a person to literally feel her blood pressure rise, Nicki did at that instant. She imagined she could feel her blood vessels constrict just as her jaw was beginning to clench. That move pissed her off on so many levels, and she wondered if it had been a calculated play on their part. Did Cannon always have Sara call back with his next appointment, just so people didn’t get too comfy in his office? After making her sit in the lobby as long as they had, that play was just plain rude, no matter how you sliced it. And the worst fucking thing Nicki hated about her reporting job was that she couldn’t include her personal observations about people, especially when they were asses and deserved the negative press.

Thanks for the reminder, Sara. Letting go of the button, Cannon looked up at Nicki, once again flashing her his all-American teeth. So, Ms. Sosebee, I’m yours for the next fifteen minutes. What have you got for me?

Damn it if he didn’t have the charm, though. That smile would make a dentist sigh, and it zapped Nicki of all her anger in the short time it took Cannon to get his sentence out of his mouth. How the hell did he manage that? Well, she supposed, that was part of being a politician. How else did they get away with so much of the shit they pulled on the public? It all came down to overwhelming charisma. And Cannon had enough for the entire town.

Clearing her throat, Nicki found herself grinning back. Well, Mr. Cannon, as you know—

Cannon shook his head. Please, call me Jeff.

This guy was good. Nicki understood in the scant two minutes she’d spent with the Commissioner how he had won over the voters in her town during the last election. The manner in which his warm green eyes gazed directly into hers, his easy, charming demeanor, and the tone of his voice made her feel special, and—while she wasn’t falling for his snake oil salesman ways—she could see how Winchester was bowled over by him. His secretary buzzing him announced that Cannon was an important person, but he wanted to assure her he was a regular guy, so let’s get on a first-name basis.

Nicki wasn’t fooled. She doubted he’d remember her name an hour from now, and if she encountered him in the future, he’d have an assistant nearby refreshing his memory