Shot Girl by Karen E. Olson Page B

the next Anderson Cooper and why-the-hell-did-they-have-to-work-in-this-shithole-for-nothing- wasting-their-talents. Most of them had a long way to go, and Jane was doing the best she could to bring them along and turn them into real journalists.
    "I saw a picture of her naked with poison ivy on her ass," I offered. "But that’s about it."
    Jane shook her head. "We need to pay these interns," she lamented. "Sometimes they show up, sometimes they don’t. Felicia was supposed to be at a chamber of commerce meeting this morning in Ansonia but didn’t show. Can’t get her on her cell, and that’s the only number I’ve got for her. I tried to find her parents in the book, but no dice."
    "What’s her last name?" I asked, immediately regretting it when I saw Jane’s expression change.
    "Why?"
    I shrugged. "Just curious."
    "Kowalski."
    "From the Valley?"
    Jane nodded. Figured. The Naugatuck Valley was full of people of Polish descent. At least this name was easy to pronounce and spell. Some of them, we just had to wing it. "I’m surprised her first name isn’t Sonia."
    Jane chuckled. "She told me her mother named her after some character on a soap opera."
    I knew immediately what she was talking about. I’d been a General Hospital addict for a while back in the late 1980s, and Frisco and Felicia were the new Luke and Laura when that plot got too old. But I wasn’t going to admit that to Jane—or Marty, who was listening to the conversation.
    "Why the interest, Annie?" Marty asked.
    I shrugged. "Someone at the Rouge Lounge mentioned a Felicia. Tom said she was a shot girl."
    Jane and Marty exchanged a look I couldn’t read.
    "She wasn’t involved, was she?" Jane asked.
    "So our Felicia is a shot girl at night?"
    Jane nodded. "Did you see her there?"
    I shook my head. "No. Someone told me she knew Ralph, the manager who died."
    "I thought he was murdered," Jane said.
    I looked at Marty. I didn’t want to get into it. "Listen, I have to get going. I need to meet Shaw in less than an hour."
    "If you hear anything else about her," Jane said, "let me know. The mayor was pretty pissed no one showed this morning. If she wants to be a reporter, she’s got to learn she can’t blow shit off just because she might have had a late night."
     
I thought about what Jane said as I pulled into a parking space on Crown Street. I needed to get a sandwich, and Katz’s on Temple served up a bowl of pickles and slaw to nosh on before lunch arrived. I ordered an iced tea and the crispy potato pancake covered in pastrami, grilled onions, tomato, and melted cheese, wondering where Felicia had actually been last night. And where she might be right now.
    Halfway through the sandwich, my cell phone rang. Pulling it out of my bag, I glanced at the number.
    "Hey," I said.
    "Hey, yourself." Vinny’s voice was playful. "How are you?"
    I told him about my "demotion" and that I was heading to meet up with Shaw. "This sucks," I said, finishing the last of my pastrami.
    "You’re expanding your horizons," he suggested.
    "Fuck you."
    "Come on, Annie, it’s not forever."
    "Yeah, I guess." I downed the last of my iced tea. "You know, there’s this girl Ralph was seeing. Tom was really interested in trying to find her, and one of those strippers last night, Jack Hammer—I think I told you about him—he said I might want to find her. I may have a lead on her. She’s one of our interns from Southern. And it seems she didn’t show up this morning for an assignment."
    Vinny was so quiet I thought I lost him. "Hello?" I asked.
    "I’m here. You’re sure no one’s heard from Felicia?" "No," I said automatically before it struck me. I hadn’t said her name. Just as I was about to ask how he knew it, he said, "I’ll see you around seven," and the call really did end.

Chapter 9
    I tried to call Vinny back, but his voice mail picked up. I put the phone down on the table. How the hell would Vinny be involved with this? How did he know her name? The