Free Killing Kate: A Novel (Riley Spartz Book 4) by Julie Kramer Page A

flagged.”
    “Flagged” was slang for when Nielsen put an asterisk after the station’s ratings; this indicated to advertisers that the sample might have been tampered with or otherwise tainted.
    “I didn’t find out about it right away,” I said. “Suddenly I realize he’s holding a people meter.”
    Noreen radiated fury, but she was also quite curious about the device and its functions.
    “Don’t you understand?” I said. “This means we can report that Chuck may have a better alibi than the cops think. The Nielsen data could actually corroborate that he was home watching TV during the murder.”
    Noreen now looked puzzled.
    “If the tracking shows that he pressed all the right buttons every fifteen minutes, he couldn’t have killed Kate. Geographically, they live too far apart.”
    “Riley, you’re not thinking of reporting that he’s a Nielsen household?”
    I could see worry lines furrowing her brow. And rather than a reassuring smile, like those flashed by anchors, Noreen’s was frightening. The rest of the newsroom staff was probably watching from their desks, through the glass wall, imagining what news jam I’d landed in now.
    “Well, yeah,” I answered. “It’s a story no one has ever done before. We’ll be first. We’ll also either help clear a guy or convict him. Those are both noble goals for our profession.”
    I could see she wasn’t impressed by my journalism principles, so I changed tactics from ethics to enterprise. “Either way, Noreen, it’s a fabulous story.”
    “Do you think Nielsen will see it that way?”
    I explained that we can’t just quietly hand the information to the cops. “We can’t be agents for the police. But if we report it on the air, they can subpoena the documents from Nielsen as part of their investigation.”
    “Right now, there’s no rush,” Noreen said. “The guy hasn’t actually been arrested. He might never need an alibi.”
    “It doesn’t exactly work that way.” I told her how the cops liketo build an easy case if they see one. “Once they’ve put in the work, they resent having to throw it out and start over on a new suspect.”
    Her body language—eyes narrowed, arms across chest, body leaning back—told me her mind was set. The only thing that kept her from being the scariest news director in television was that she was also the most beautiful. In most industries, those two traits clashed, but in ours, she somehow made it work.
    But her being boss didn’t stop me from being pissed.
    “You haven’t wanted me to put any energy into that murder story all along. You just keep saying there’s nothing newsworthy. It’s just another murder. Well, now there is something newsworthy, and you still don’t want to cover it.”
    “Oh, I’ve changed my mind about the murder,” Noreen said. “I want continuous coverage. I just don’t want to report that one of the suspects is a Nielsen household.”
    “Well, what else is there to report?”
    “I don’t care what. Find something. Or rehash what we’ve already broadcast. And then call your new source and tell him to tune in to Channel 3 for the latest.”
    OMG. Suddenly I understood Noreen’s plan.
    Deep in their business souls, all news directors want to be general managers. That corporate ladder used to be easier to climb when the news department ruled the building. But now sales is the dominate force, and most of the GMs these days come from the second floor, not the first.
    If she could show dramatic ratings momentum, that would keep her in the promotion radar of our network owners.
    “So we decide to own coverage of the Kate Warner murder and use that to get her boyfriend and his people meter locked on our newscasts,” I said. “Is one household even enough to shift viewing patterns?”
    “We’ll find out,” Noreen said. “We both will.”
    So I packaged a story that night about why Buddy’s deathdidn’t rate as a felony. Not taking any chances, the newscast producer had