Free A Cry for Self-Help (A Kate Jasper Mystery) by Jaqueline Girdner Page A

was a catchy phrase. So catchy, I could picture it in newsprint. In very large type. Wonderful.
    “Or maybe it’s some karma thing. Like she attracts murder because of her past life. Or…”
    By that time Wayne was at the front door with me right beside him. We turned to face the crowd as he unlocked the door behind him. A good trick, which I wondered if I could carry off. But this wasn’t the time to think. It was the time to act. A few more pushes and we’d backed inside the house and slammed the door shut. We were safe.
    Safe but not sound, not of mind. Scared. At least I was. Very scared.
    Wayne put his arms around me and I could feel the trembling in him too.
    “Did you hear what they were saying?” I whispered into his armpit finally.
    He grunted in affirmation and held me tighter.
    “Can they really believe…” I began.
    “Don’t think about it,” he ordered brusquely.
    Oh, sure.
    I was opening my mouth to discuss the low probability of my ever forgetting what I had just heard outside, when I heard a new sound inside. The sound of the flap on the cat door opening. I turned, expecting to see my cat, but what I saw was a hand with a microphone.
    That was enough. I made a decision to do something I never thought I would do. Not to stomp on the hand with the microphone and grind it into the floor, however tempting the image was. No, something even more radical. A phone call for help. From the one person I knew who might be able to get rid of these people. And their suspicions.
    “Felix,” I whispered as I pulled Wayne down the hall into the bedroom.
    “Felix Byrne?” he squeaked, his voice almost as high as mine now, if not Minnie Mouse’s. A look of horror twisted his features.
    I put my finger over my lips and closed the bedroom door behind us.
    “But Felix,” he whispered hoarsely. “He’s a human pit bull when he’s on a story. Kate, he’ll badger us and badger us. Sometimes I think he’s not even human—”
    “He can get rid of those people outside,” I interrupted, hoping I was right. “He can put them on another track.”
    Wayne closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
    “Maybe,” he admitted finally and dropped onto the bed,
    his head in his hands. I sat down next to him and put my hand on his thigh.
    “Yes?” I asked, then heard the sounds of footsteps on the rear deck and a knock on the back door.
    Wayne stood up abruptly. “I’ll cook lunch,” he muttered and headed out of the bedroom toward the kitchen.
    I took that as a yes and made my way slowly to the bedroom phone to call Felix, wondering during the few short steps if the whole idea was a mistake. Because my best friend Barbara’s sweetie or not, Felix as a reporter was everything Wayne had said he was. And worse. But not worse than that gang lying in wait outside. I punched Felix’s number in quickly before I could change my mind.
    Felix was ecstatic once I’d told him the story of the scuba wedding and Sam Skyler’s body on the rocks.
    “Far friggin’ out,” he purred. “Kate Jasper, my old compadre, finds another friggin’ corpse. And this time, she decides to tell me about it.”
    “It wasn’t just me!” I objected.
    “But you were the first one to see him, pal. Right?” he shot back.
    “Besides the murderer—” I began, then remembered why I’d called Felix in the first place.
    “Felix, the house is surrounded by reporters,” I told him, keeping my voice down. “And they’re acting like I’m the murderer. How long do you think they’ll stay out there?”
    “As long as it friggin’ takes,” he answered, his voice low with something that sounded like pleasure. In fact, I could almost hear him drooling. He was enjoying this.
    “An exclusive,” he said softly.
    “What?”
    “An exclusive,” he repeated more loudly. “You tell me everything, man, the whole poop. Me and nobody else, you get it? And I’ll disappear the reporters for you, zippo presto, pronto. Cool?”
    “I guess so,” I