Read Online Dead End Street by Sheila Connolly - Free Book Online Page A

but I’m not even sure which neighborhoods each of you live in. How many of you live within city limits?” About half of the people around the table raised a hand. “So you know what the real day-to-day issues are—that’s great. Anything that pops into your head, anything you come across while looking for something else, write it down, and we’ll see where it leads, okay?”
    â€œGive those ideas to me,” Latoya said. “I’ll be happy to coordinate.”
    That was a surprise: Latoya seldom volunteered to take on anything outside of her job description, although that job was certainly demanding. “Thank you, Latoya—that would be great.” I turned back to the others. “As I said, think creatively. I don’t want to sound crass, but stories about people in the neighborhoods, small shops, festivals,even plant openings—we can pull those together. We have the information, but we have to dig it up.”
    I swallowed. “What happened yesterday was awful. A woman died. A man was seriously wounded. I was lucky to escape without harm. The news will focus on those two, not me. If anyone comes to you and asks,
What was Nell Pratt doing there?
tell them I was acting as an historical consultant, okay? You don’t have to say anything more. Unless, of course, you want to give them the full description of our amazing collections.” Several people laughed at that. “Okay, that’s all I have. We’d all better get back to work now.”
    The staff members drifted out of the room, a few stopping to speak to me. I was surprised that Latoya lingered until they were gone. “Thanks again for stepping up, Latoya,” I told her. “You think anything will come of it?”
    â€œMaybe. You’re right about the role we
could
play, but it remains to be seen whether anything happens. Look, I wanted to tell you that I know Tyrone Blakeney . . . We’ve been friends for years. We even dated for a time, long before he married. He’s a good man, and a smart one. I haven’t seen him for quite a while, but the press might dig up our connection. I didn’t want you to be surprised.”
    â€œThank you. I’ve had more than enough surprises already this week. But it seems unlikely that the press would dig so deep into Tyrone’s past life. Does he have anything to hide?”
    â€œNot that I know of. He’s been an activist of one sort or another for years, but not a troublemaker or a rabble-rouser.He honestly believes in the causes he pushes—it’s not just for his own glory. And if it means anything, I think he grew up in North Philadelphia, so he has his own history there.”
    â€œIs there anything I should or shouldn’t tell the police about him, if they come calling? Not that I believe they will.”
    â€œJust tell them what you know. I believe Tyrone is an honest man. That’s all I wanted to say.”
    â€œThank you. Let me know if any interesting ideas pop up, will you? It’s not urgent, but I’d like to be ready if an appropriate opportunity turns up.”
    â€œOf course, Nell. And I’m glad you’re all right.” She turned and left. While I wouldn’t say it was a warm and fuzzy talk, she’d been more open with me than at any time I could remember. Interesting.
    I went back down the hall to my office. “Anything I need to know?” I asked Eric when I paused in front of his desk.
    â€œSome calls from the media—I said you were in a meeting, which was true, and I put the messages on your desk. Let me know if you want to put any of them through to you.”
    â€œThanks, Eric.” In my office I sat down at my desk and sifted through the short stack. None of the calls seemed urgent; probably staff writers were looking for a tidbit to flesh out a story. Their interest in me would probably die down quickly, so I figured I’d ignore them.
    The