“I’m sorry,” Caitlin says, pointing at a shrimp cocktail before her. “I was starved. I couldn’t wait. Have one.”

“No, thanks,” I reply, sitting down opposite her. She’s wearing a white button-down oxford shirt and emerald drop earrings that bring out the color in her eyes. Each time I see her, I’m shocked by the way those green eyes are almost wrong for her face. The fine black hair and porcelain skin seem to call for something else. Yet the final result is a remarkable beauty.

The young waitress who asked me to sign False Witness the other day hurries over and asks if she can get me something to drink.

“Jenny, right?”

She blushes and nods.

“What happened to my waiter?” Caitlin asks.

“I switched tables with him. I’ll take much better care of you guys.”

Caitlin gives her a sidelong glance. “I’ll bet you will.”

“Jenny, I’d love a Corona with a lime.”

“On the way.” She disappears like a dark-complected elf.

“Jenny has the hots for you.”

“A little starstruck, maybe. She’s probably got a novel in progress upstairs.”

“I don’t think that’s it. She watches you in a strange way.” Caitlin drinks from a sweating martini glass. “Trust me. I have lethal instincts.”

“You’re not drinking gimlets tonight?”

“They’re out of Rose’s lime. So, how’d you spend this lovely day?”

“I’ll tell you later. First, you owe me an explanation.”

She gives me a wry look. “Why did I make such a big thing of Del Payton?”

“Yes.”

“It’s simple, really. My father.”

“The one you grew up without?”

“That’s him. When he took over the chain from his father, it was five dailies, all in Virginia. In twelve years he built that into thirty-four papers across the Southeast.”

“I’m impressed.”

She raises a cynical eyebrow. “Do you know how he did that? He went into small cities that had only one or two newspapers. If there were two, he’d buy the dominant one, then institute John Masters’s Commandments, the cardinal one being, ‘Don’t piss off the advertisers.’ He printed every detail of little league games, weddings, society parties, high school graduations—everything but controversy. It didn’t make for very informative newspapers, but it kicked profits into the stratosphere.”

“Is it a public company now?”

Caitlin makes a fist and thrusts it toward the ceiling with mock fervor. “Never! Family-owned, down the line. Starting to get the picture?”

“You want to shake up Daddy’s world.”

“Yes. But not for some Freudian reason. Hard news is going unreported in every town where we have a newspaper. I’m instituting a new policy. At one paper, anyway.” She takes another swallow of her martini, and her eyes flash with conviction. “From now on, hard news leads.”

“The Payton murder wasn’t news until you made it news.”