“Midnight, if you want them in the other papers. That’s nonnegotiable. I can’t pay the staffs of ten papers overtime because you’re late getting a story in. If you need more time, we can run it day after tomorrow.”

“I’d like nothing better. But Penn says no.”

“Is Penn making your publishing decisions now?”

She quickly explained her fiancé’s theory of achieving security for the family by running the story as soon as possible.

“I agree with Penn,” her father said. “You have those stories done by eleven—no ifs, ands, or buts. If you don’t, I’ll call Penn and have him dictate a story. I’m not suffering through one more night like I did two months ago.”

Caitlin closed her eyes and tried to remain in the present. “I’ll make the deadline. And you’d better get ready. We’re going to have every TV network in the country calling us tomorrow.”

“I’ll let the other editors know.”

Caitlin thanked him again, then hung up and looked at her watch.

It was 4:42 P.M. She had approximately seven hours to produce the stories that would run in the chain’s flagship papers tomorrow. Maybe a couple of extra hours to write additional material that would run only in the Examiner. That meant she had a decision to make. Would she write those stories based on Henry’s work alone? Or would she use part of her time to try to accomplish what Henry Sexton had not?

Seven hours. Fourteen if I’m willing to break a story in the online edition alone. Could brazenness, daring, and insight allow her to crack the most explosive mystery of this complex epic in a single night? An image of Katy Royal Regan rose into her mind—her most promising target of opportunity. But to take that shot, she would have to break her promise to Penn, and possibly damage Tom’s chances of a quick dismissal of his case. With a resentful sigh, she got up and closed her door, then picked up Henry Sexton’s charred Moleskine and began to reread his most recent entries, hoping to find something she’d missed before.

A hard knocking at her door startled her, and before she could call “Come in,” the door opened.

Jamie Lewis came into her office and shut the door behind him. A professional cynic, he rarely delivered news without a smartass remark. But Caitlin could tell by his manner that he had bad news.

“Tell me,” she said.

“An APB has gone out for Tom Cage and his friend Walt Garrity. The Louisiana State Police issued it.”

Caitlin’s palms went cold. “What’s it for? Jumping bail?”

“No. Killing a cop. A state trooper.”

The blood drained from her face. She waved Jamie out, then grabbed the telephone, all her anger at Penn forgotten.

CHAPTER 71