The station’s stories turned to remembrance and community support. There was one long piece with tributes from colleagues, then a series of interviews with tearful viewers who all seemed to be interviewed at a big downtown farmer’s market (Olivia had taught Carol and Jim that when you talk to random people like that it’s called MOS—man on the street), and a montage of Faith’s most memorable weather forecasts. When the show finally got to normal weather with Matthew, he started with his own tribute.
“I just want to say that Faith was a role model to me. She hadthe biggest heart and the most creative ideas. We’re all going to miss her around here so much.”
Carol found herself wondering if Tom, the main anchor, had still gone to the Tigers game as he had told viewers the previous night or if he was at home mourning. She tried to picture what kind of house he might have—large, for sure—and if he was sitting in his living room crying.
It was only when the newscast was over that Carol realized she had not heard back from Olivia, who had said she might stop by. Carol texted her.
Hey honey, did you still want to come over for tea and cookies tonight?
There was no answer. Olivia was usually so good about texting back immediately. But maybe she was resting. Hadn’t she said she wanted to go on a long walk? Perhaps she was tired.
Carol leaned her head against the back of the La-Z-Boy and thought of her own fatigue, her brain trying to digest this horrible day, which she figured had to be one of the worst in her life. Sure, Faith wasn’t a member of Carol’s own family, but Carolfeltlike she was. After all, she was in Carol and Jim’s house way more than any family ever was. And Carol grew even closer to Faith because of those videos Faith made. Carol got to hear about Faith’s vacations and see her clothes and makeup. Plus, there was just the tragedy of Faith’s young age. She was maybe in her mid- or possibly late thirties, Carol guessed; so vibrant, so alive. It was impossible to compute that this bright and beautiful being was not going to be on TV anymore, sharing laughs with Tom and Veronica and making the audience feel comfortable and secure with her weather knowledge.
“I’ll start dinner,” Jim offered.
Carol nodded, adding softly, “There’s some chicken breast. I was going to sauté some vegetables to go with it, maybe a potato.”
“I got it,” he said, patting her hand. “Do you want me to light one of your candles and let you rest here a bit more?”
“Yes. How about Warm Honey and Vanilla?” she said, thinking the scent would be soothing. He crossed the room and used the long automatic lighter to get the candle going, then moved it closer to Carol by setting it, and the little dish it rested on, on the fish-shaped coffee table. He headed to the kitchen, and she heard the refrigerator opening, things being chopped on a cutting board, the gas stove burner firing up, and the clattering of pots and pans.
Carol let the smell of the candle and sautéed carrots and onions wash over her. It would have been a peaceful early evening if she wasn’t thinking about the murder. Her headache lingered slightly in one temple, and she rubbed at it. It made her nauseous to picture Faith dead in a car, strangled, and Carol just kept having the same perplexed rumination:
Who would ever hurt Faith? Faith had no enemies; everyone loved her. There wasn’t a soul on the planet who had anything against Faith Richards.
CHAPTER FOUR
Matthew
January
Five Months Earlier
“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s calling in sickagain?”
Matthew was incredulous. Faith took more sick days than anyone he had ever worked with. Not only did she use all six of the days the station gave everyone yearly, but she got a Family Medical Leave Act accommodation that allowed her to call out an extra one to two times a month, and apparently there was nothing anyone could do about it. He was told only that it was an “HR matter” and he wouldn’t be privy to any more details.
“Sorry, man, she said she’s sick,” responded the daytime executive producer over the phone. “I have no control over it. We need you to do the four, five, six, six thirty, and eleven tonight.”
“It’s supposed to be my day off! Does anyone even think of that… or care?”
“Abby did the morning show and Chuck is on vacation so there’s no one else,” said the producer. “Don’t shoot the messenger. You know you’ll get a comp day down the road for it.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Matthew grumbled, thinking of the things he would have to cancel that day: a haircut, lunch with an oldbuddy, a night in cooking and watching a movie planned with Tara. She had been moody lately and he wanted to try and find out if everything was OK. Their wedding was still nine months away, but she was already in manic prep-mode with her mom. He chalked her moods up to that but wanted to be sure, and he planned to sweet-talk her a bit at dinner. Now that would have to wait. All because of Faith.
He gritted his teeth just thinking of his coworker. They barely spoke when they saw each other in person, only communicating in more than a few words when absolutely necessary about things like schedules or new weather graphics, yet they put on a united front for appearances and promos. If you saw the weather-team promo or saw them out in the field together, you would think they were best friends. Faith, Abby, Chuck, and him. The four amigos—yeah, right. Nothing could be further from the truth.
None of them really cared for each other that much. They certainly never hung out or asked about each other’s vacations or kids anymore. They did their jobs and went home. Matthew knew very little about Faith’s personal life other than that she had a sister named Hope. Faith seemed to talk to her on the phone a lot, and they went on vacation together, always some girls’ getaway for something he would not have been interested in—like a shopping weekend in Manhattan. He did hear Faith complain to Abby once that Hope was perennially broke and Faith had to finance their adventures.
It used to be different between Matthew and Faith. Matthew felt he had been very kind when Faith first joined Channel 9, even inviting her out for lunch despite his anger at being passed over for the weeknight meteorologist chair. After all, it wasn’therfault, and he had been warned by the news director, Perry, to make sure there was team bonding. But just a few monthslater he overheard Faith talking in the break room when he was walking past. She was telling Veronica that Matthew was “sooo small-market” and shouldn’t be in a large market like Detroit. It still made his blood boil just to think of it. He stopped being nice to Faith after that.
If they all weren’t paid so goddamn much, Matthew might have quit this job years ago. He should have done it right when Faith was hired, to be honest. He had been at the station for two years already as the weekend guy. It was his turn to be promoted. He should have been next in line when Jack finally retired, but no, they gave it to the newcomer instead. Not only that but they made a huge deal about her “coming home.”
Big effing deal. Matthew was from the city of Detroit itself, not even a suburb like her, yet no one had touted his homecoming when he started at Channel 9, moving from a small station in Lansing. But for her… the red carpet was rolled out.
Then came her stupid “earring-cast.” Had anyone in the history of television ever thought of a dumber idea? He had tried wearing ties with clouds and suns on them in his first market, but the news director told him it was childish and to stop. Yet somehow her earrings were OK with management? He just didn’t get it. How could she besopopular that the station even created a fan club just for her?
When they were forced to be at events together, why was it that people pushed past him to stand in line for her? Couldn’t they see right through her? Her phony smile, her layers of makeup, her fake eyelashes. She wore glasses sometimes in real life but contacts only on TV, colored contacts. They made her eyes look bluer than they actually were.
