Deadline (6 page)

He understood her reasons for keeping
their relationship quiet, but felt that professionally Katie had
proven herself. She no longer needed to fear the stigma in the
workplace that came from dating the boss, he believed.

If this relationship was going to the
next level, she needed to understand that it was time to come “out
of the closet”. They needed to discuss this and soon, Chase
felt.

His other concern was the ongoing
financial problems of the newspaper. He needed to secure a new
infusion of cash or seriously consider Rupert White’s buy-out
offer. He had not breathed a word of this to Katie.

He knew that she would be dead set
against him selling the paper to White. She would consider it a
journalistic sell-out. But Katie was an idealist, not a financial
pragmatist.

Would she be opposed enough to end
their relationship over it? It may be a chance he would have to
take to salvage his financial resources and reputation.

Would she still stay with him if he
were broke?

He took a towel and dried off. Chase
quickly shaved and dressed in a white polo shirt and flannel pants,
then grabbed his car keys.

He locked the door of Katie’s
apartment as he slipped out into the hallway. He needed to stop at
his apartment before heading back into the paper.

***

Chase had a luxury condo apartment on
Lakeshore Drive overlooking Lake Ontario. It was a prime
residential address where condos started at $850,000 on the bottom
floor for a one-bedroom box. Chase’s $2.5 million apartment was a
penthouse suite on the top 18th floor.

The large bay window in the living
room offered a stunning vista of the lake and the many yachts and
boats dotting the waterscape.

He stood in front of the window and
took in the view for a few moments, allowing his thoughts to
filter.

Such a nice place, but Katie refused
to move in with him. Instead they had to grab what time they could
find together at her cramped apartment. Chase was tiring of this
secretive game.

He needed to air his feelings with
Katie. It was time she came to a decision about the future of their
relationship. It was time for hard choices for both of
them.

Chase checked his Rolex. It was 8:30
a.m. Time for him to get into the office. First he checked the
messages on his home phone.

There were three. The first two
related to newspaper business. The voice on the third totally
caught him by surprise.

“
Andrew, honey,” said a
silky feminine voice. “I know this must come as a bit of a shock
since we haven’t seen each other in about eight months now. I miss
you so much, darling. I’m afraid my life is just an empty shell
without you. I hope you feel the same way. I need to see you today
on an urgent matter, my sweet. It is most urgent and could affect
your future. How about lunch at Antonio’s at 12? Please call me on
my cell at (905) 858-1105. Hope you can make it.”

Chase stood stunned for several
seconds.

It was Ashley Carpenter, his
ex-girlfriend. The last person he ever expected to hear from since
she broke off their relationship eight months ago.

They had dated for over almost two
years. It was a passionate pairing of a power couple with wealthy
backgrounds. But the similarity ended there.

Ashley’s parents were
multi-billionaires. Lawrence and his wife Amber Carpenter had made
their money in mining in northern Ontario and in Alberta. Now
Lawrence headed his own philanthropic foundation, which gave
millions every year to various charities, symphony orchestras,
theatres and art galleries. They were among the crème de la crème
of Canadian high society.

Ashley was their only child. She had
been pampered, spoiled from birth, attended the finest private
schools and then Oxford University in Britain where she graduated
with an honors degree in Fine Art.

Andrew was the son of Allan and
Patricia Chase. His father had been a prominent Bay Street
stockbroker. While worth millions, the Chases were not in the same
financial league as the Carpenters.

Allan Chase insisted that Andrew go
through the public school system so he would learn to fend for
himself. While he never wanted for anything, Andrew learned early
on to work for his money.

He worked in the mailroom of his
father’s company part-time while going to the University of
Toronto. He graduated with a Master’s degree in English.

It was at university that the
journalism bug struck Andrew. He volunteered at the Varsity, the
campus newspaper, first as a reporter and then becoming its Editor
in his final year.

Chase knew that newspapers were in his
blood. He wanted to pursue a career in that field, much to his
father’s chagrin. Allan Chase had aspirations for Andrew to join
the family stockbroker firm and one day to succeed him.

But Andrew instead wangled a novice
reporter position at the Toronto Star.

Over the next several years, he worked
himself through a variety of positions to become an assistant to
the publisher where he learned the ins and outs of running a large
metropolitan daily newspaper. Then fate dealt him a new
hand.

Allan and Patricia Chase were killed
in a tragic plane crash while on vacation in Europe six years
ago.

Suddenly Andrew’s world was turned
upside down. He inherited the family business and fortune. He still
wasn’t interested in the stock market so he sold the company for a
princely sum which, added to the millions he inherited, made him a
very wealthy man.

His first inclination was to try and
buy a paper, but found himself shut out and shunned by the Toronto
publishing community. They viewed him as a usurper and
upstart.

Andrew then got together a group of
minority investors and decided to start the Daily Express three
years ago.

The paper initially got off to a
strong start as a new entry in the Toronto media market. It had
healthy sales, although still lagged behind the four other papers.
It would take some time to establish the paper in the
marketplace.

But after several months, circulation
started dropping as the paper’s editorial team failed to
differentiate the content from the existing newspapers.

Chase introduced an editorial shakeup
and brought in Braden Young 18 months ago from USA Today to spruce
up the ship. Young’s mandate was to set the paper sailing in a
different direction.

So far it appeared to be working.
Circulation had been rising. Unfortunately, the advertising content
had not kept pace and the paper was continuing to lose
money.

Chase knew he could carry it for a
couple of more years, but the paper needed a major infusion of cash
to put it on an even keel and stem the financial
bleeding.

The paper occupied more and more of
his time so that there was little time to spend with Ashley and the
socializing she loved to do.

While he was burning the midnight oil
many nights, Ashley soon found another lover to fill the empty
space in her life. She started dating a wealthy art gallery owner
and the couple became a fixture on the artistic social
circuit.

Ashley, always was self-absorbed, gave
Andrew his walking papers. Andrew knew it was for the better – they
were like oil and water. The sex was great when it happened, but
they had little else in common.

Now this call from her came out of the
blue.

What could she want? And how could it
affect his future?

The only way to find out
was to meet her for lunch at Antonio’s. It was a little bistro on
the
harbor front
that used be one of their favorite
places.

Chase reached for the
telephone.

Chapter 16

Braden Young’s Apartment
8:45 AM

YOUNG SHOWERED and changed into a
crisp new white shirt, blue striped tie and navy pants. He checked
himself in the bedroom mirror before reaching for his
jacket.

As he emerged from the room, he spied
Megan sprawled on his couch nibbling at some toast, sipping her
coffee and reading this morning’s Daily Express that had been
delivered to Young’s door.

“
Hi, sweetie. It’s time I
was off to the office. We have another paper to get out. Do I look
OK?”

“
You look great, Dad. Will
you be late tonight?”

“
That’s very likely. I
have to stay until the presses roll around midnight, but I’ll come
straight back home after work. Are you sure you will be all right
on your own here?”

“
I’ll be fine. I may go
out to look at the stores later. It’s been a while since I’ve seen
Toronto. You have a great day!”

Young took one last gulp of coffee,
picked up his briefcase and headed out the door.

Megan continued with her breakfast,
scanning the paper when suddenly the phone rang. She picked it up
thinking it was a call for her Dad.

“
Hi honey,” said a very
familiar voice. “I figured you would crash at your Dad’s
place.”

“
What do you want,
Dennis?” Megan snapped. “And don’t call me ‘honey’, I really don’t
feel like talking to you right now.”

“
What I want, darling is
you. I know I have really screwed up here and you’re right to be
mad at me. I need to talk you.”

“
No, Dennis I need some
time to be alone and to think things over. You’ve seriously hurt
me. I’m not coming home just yet. I want to stay here with Dad and
sort things out in my mind. I don’t know if I can ever get over
this betrayal. You really are one big shit-heel.”

“
Darling, I’m here in
Toronto. I took a late flight after you left and I’m staying at the
Westin. Why not meet me for lunch and we can talk things over. I
want try and make things right again between us.”

Megan paused for a few seconds to
think his suggestion over. “I don’t know, Dennis. I just got here
and I need some time alone.”

“
Look, Megan having lunch
won’t hurt you,” insisted Dennis. “I just want a chance to meet
with you and talk. If you need some more time up here alone, that’s
okay with me. I completely understand how you feel. But I want a
chance to explain what happened. You at least owe me that,
Megan.”

“
I guess having lunch
together can’t hurt. It’s wonderful you thought so much of our
relationship you would fly right up here after I left. What time
and where shall we meet?”

“
Why not meet me here at
the hotel. I’ll make a reservation for 12:30 p.m. at The Mizzen
restaurant in the lobby. See you then, honey!”

The phone clicked off.

Megan slowly replaced the receiver.
She wondered whether she was doing the right thing. Dennis was
always so glib. He could sell ice to the Eskimos. He always had
been an outrageous flirt, with an eye for the ladies.

But Megan loved it that she was his
when he captivated so many other women in conversation.

She always believed that it was
nothing more than flirting – until now. But had he cheated on her
with others?

She began to wonder.

Chapter 17

Toronto Daily Express 8:55
AM

THE SUN glinted off the tall glass
doors as Katie Cannon strode through the doorway into the lobby of
the Daily Express Building.

“
Good morning, Miss
Cannon,” said a man in uniform seated behind a dark walnut desk
with a bank of video screens behind.

Ian McDonald was a security guard who
monitored the comings and goings of people in the
building.

He knew almost every staffer by name
and all visitors had to be cleared through lobby security before
admission to the building. The media attracted their fair share of
kooks and weirdoes. McDonald’s job was to screen them out before
they could gain access to reporters.

“
Morning, Ian. How goes
it?” Cannon asked, stopping at the desk to chat.

“
It’s been pretty quiet
since I came on duty at 7:30 a.m. The day shift is starting to
arrive.”

“
Yes, well my day already
started bloody early. We had another Wolfman victim found this
morning. I’ve just returned from the crime scene.”

“
My, this guy is one busy
character,” said McDonald. “He sure gets around the city. Where was
this latest victim found?”

“
In High Park. An early
morning dog walker found her. It’s the usual MO – strangulation and
a missing tongue,” said Cannon.

“
Maybe his wife’s a nagger
and this is his way of getting revenge,” quipped McDonald with a
grin.

He was a fairly handsome looking man,
in his 30s, dark hair and a muscular build. He obviously works out
and keeps in good shape, thought Katie.

“
That’s in very bad taste,
Ian,” she replied. “He’s one sick psycho.”

“
There’s often a fine line
between genius and madness, they say.”

“
Yes, well this creep is
well over that line. I have to go, Ian and get busy on the story.
See you around!” Cannon waved and headed for the
elevator.