Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

even shift his feet.
    Mario tugged at his tie and said out of the side of his mouth, “I thought this was ‘live’ television news.”
    “We’re breathing, aren’t we?”
    “I won’t be much longer if that reporter’s perfume doesn’t lighten up.” Mario sneezed for the fifth time in as many minutes. “Does she swim in it before she goes on camera?”
    The corner of Sam’s mouth kicked up. “Nobody told her that TV may stink but it doesn’t smell.”
    Someone straightened the TV reporter’s suit collar, powdered her nose, and tucked in some stray blonde hair. The reporter swapped sexist jokes with one of the technicians until the director gave the signal. Instantly, grave concern replaced the humorous leer on the reporter’s face. She checked her notes and faced the camera squarely.
    “This is Tawny Dawn reporting live from the parking lot of one of Scottsdale’s most exclusive hotels, where a shocking double murderhas just taken place. The terrible details are still unfolding, but we’re here to bring you what we’ve learned by questioning people close to the case.”
    She turned to Sam. “You’re Special Agent Sam Groves with the FBI.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Then to Mario, “And you’re Mario Hernandez, a detective with the Phoenix PD.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Behind the camera, the director sighed but didn’t interrupt. There was plenty of time to edit out overlaps with the other “live” interviews she’d done with the two cops.
    “You’re both part of the crime strike force that is gathering evidence against the gangs who target couriers,” Tawny said.
    Both men nodded and wondered why in hell their boss had decided to spread that fact all over the TV news. Maybe Kennedy was angling for a segment on America’s Most Wanted .
    “Were these murders part of your investigation?” Tawny asked.
    Mario struggled not to laugh at the badly worded question— Yes, ma’am. We always kill people in the course of our investigation. That’s why we’re called a crime strike force .
    Sam didn’t crack a smile or miss a beat as he fed meaningless phrases to the TV reporter. “We can’t be certain. We’re investigating all possibilities.”
    Holding the mike between herself and the two men, Tawny leaned closer and tipped her face up to them earnestly. “Mr. Groves, what can you tell us about this tragic double murder?”
    Sam didn’t even flinch at being reduced to a civilian mister. He’d learned long ago that TV was a prime example of “their marbles, their schoolyard, their rules.” He and Mario were sacrificial goats for the titillation of breaking-news junkies. Screw facts. Sensation was all that mattered.
    “We’re still gathering evidence, ma’am,” Sam said. “It would be premature for me to divulge any details of the investigation at this time.”
    “What were the names of the victims?”
    “The names of the victims are being withheld pending notification of next of kin,” Sam said.
    Mario sneezed.
    “Keep going,” the director said. “If he sneezes again, make it a close two-shot with Tawny and the other one. We’ll clean up the sound later.”
    Mario’s sideways look at Sam said, Live, huh?
    Sam’s look said he’d done it all before.
    “But surely you’ve arrived at some conclusions as to the manner of death?” Tawny asked.
    “Unexpected,” Sam said without inflection.
    Mario turned a laugh into a sneeze.
    Tawny’s eyes narrowed. “Have you any explanation as to why the FBI agents who were less than a hundred feet away didn’t hear anything?”
    “The crime strike force motor coach is heavily soundproofed.”
    “But still, less than a hundred feet! Surely the victims screamed for help?”
    Not with duct tape over their mouths. “We’re questioning other people who might have been nearby,” Sam said.
    “Did anyone hear anything?”
    “Not so far as we know.”
    “Was robbery the motivation?” she asked.
    “We’re investigating that possibility very closely,” Sam said with a total lack of emphasis.
    “Was anything missing?”
    “We’re investigating that too.”
    With her back to the camera, Tawny rolled her eyes. This agent was about as interesting to interview as a dead fish. At this rate she’d be lucky to get twenty seconds in a network feed.
    “They’re bringing out the bodies,” one of the techs called.
    Instantly, the camera swung toward the two slack sacked up corpses being hauled out on stretchers and then put on gurneys