“My name’s Jessica Shaw, and I’m a private investigator. I’m working on behalf of a client who is looking for some information on a couple of former Eagle Rock residents, and I was hoping I could take a look through some back copies of the newspaper to find out a little more about them?”

The receptionist was shaking her head before Jessica had even finished speaking. “This is a newspaper, not a public library,” she said. “We can’t just allow people to walk in off the street and access our files.”

“I already tried the library,” Jessica said. “They don’t store old copies of the Reformer. Just back editions of the Los Angeles Times on microfilm. I was hoping for a more local angle, and they suggested I try here.”

“Then I guess you’re out of luck.”

The receptionist put her glasses back on and turned to her computer screen, making it clear the conversation was over. Jessica turned to leave and was almost out of the front door when she heard a male voice behind her.

“A private eye, huh?”

She looked over her shoulder and saw the reporter leaning casually against the office doorframe, arms folded across his chest, an amused smile playing on his lips. He was older than she’d initially thought, closer to her own age, and kinda cute but dressed like someone’s dad in a rumpled button-down shirt and tan corduroys.

“That’s right,” Jessica said, walking back into the reception area. “I’m doing some background research on some folks who used to live around here. I think they may have been in the newspaper once or twice, and I was hoping to have a look through some old back copies.”

“Has something happened?” he asked. “I could certainly do with a good story for next week’s splash. It’s been a quiet news day.” He laughed. “Make that a quiet news month.”

Jessica smiled. “No, nothing new, I’m afraid. Neither of the people I’m looking into have lived in Eagle Rock for years.”

He looked disappointed, and she wondered what he’d say if he knew he was possibly talking to one of the biggest scoops of his career.

Jessica went on, “But if I did happen to come across anything interesting, I’d be sure to let you know. You know, return the favor.”

“Sounds fair enough to me,” he said. “What did you say your name was?”

“Jessica Shaw.”

He turned to the receptionist. “Darla, can you take Jessica through to the library and help her find the editions she’s after, please?”

Darla’s face reddened, and she glared at Jessica while addressing the reporter. “I already told Miss Shaw we don’t allow access—”