large group of men had met on the corner. The meeting started amicably but soon deteriorated into an argument and then gunshots.
Police said Rayne was shot three times with a high-caliber handgun. He died almost instantly.
Detectives declined to comment on whether there are suspects in the case. At this time, no arrests have been made.
She folded the article away, and checked the next item in the folder. It was Rayne’s obituary. She read it, looking for one name in particular. She found it in the last paragraph.
“Mr. Rayne is survived by his wife, Lyla, and his son, Michael Xavier.”
She scribbled hurried notes as she flipped through the few remaining articles. One had been written a few days later, when two men were arrested in the shooting—both were known for their involvement in drug gangs.
When Harper had read through it all, she put the file away and closed the drawer slowly. The more she learned, the more twisted this story became.
She had a bad feeling about Xavier Rayne.
6
By the time Baxter returned at ten, Harper and DJ had finished writing and Miles, who had submitted his photos hours ago, had gone home.
The main article walked a fine line between exploitation and straightforward reporting. Baxter read it with a crease between her eyes.
Local Music Star Disappears
By Harper McClain and DJ Gonzales
Michael Xavier Rayne, a singer and guitarist, disappeared from his Tybee Island home in the early hours of Thursday after a night of drinking with friends.
He was last seen walking down to the beach from Admiral’s Row on the north side of the island just after two in the morning.
His guitar was found on the sand early Thursday, but there was no sign of Rayne.
Police and Coast Guard searches failed to locate him and were called off at sunset.
At press time, his whereabouts were unknown.
The 24-year-old Savannah native, who performs as Xavier Rayne, recently released his first full album, “Revolver Road.” The first single off the record, “The Lying Game,” was one of the top streamed songs in the country this week.
Rayne is due to begin a national tour on Monday. His record company declined to comment on the situation or what his absence might mean to those plans.
His manager was rushing home from a trip to Paris, and could not be reached.
Hunter Carlson, keyboardist in Rayne’s band, was one of the friends with him that night, but said he went to bed when Rayne walked out to the beach, and had no idea what happened after that.
Rayne’s backup singer, Allegra Hanson, said no one noticed Rayne hadn’t returned until nearly midday, when he didn’t come down from his room. Only then, did they begin searching for him.
The actress Cara Brand, Rayne’s girlfriend, was also at his house when he disappeared. She said she wasn’t worried at first. It was only as time passed and he did not return that she became concerned.
“Xavier often went down to the beach at night,” she said. “He had insomnia. He said watching the sea helped him relax. The only difference is, this time he didn’t come back.”
“This is good,” Baxter murmured, tapping the last line with the blunt tip of her nail. “Gets everything across.”
When she’d finished reading both articles, she turned to Harper and DJ. “Good work, both of you. I’m sending this to the copy desk.” She gestured at DJ, who had propped his feet up on his desk, his arms pillowed behind his head. “Go home. Or wherever it is you go when you’re not here.”
Knowing better than to wait for a second invitation, he leaped from his chair and pulled on his jacket. “I’ll be at Rosie’s if anyone needs me,” he said. Rosie Malone’s was a downtown dive favored by Savannah’s media.
“Don’t get drunk and tell your friends from Channel Five what we’ve been working on,” Baxter barked as he disappeared down the stairs. “This is exclusive.”
His reply floated back to them from the stairwell. “I won’t.”
When he was gone, the editor walked over to where Harper still sat at her desk. “First thing tomorrow, I need you to go back to Rayne’s house and talk to the girlfriend. But no interviews. Just work on her. And all of them. Get them to trust you.”
“Okay.…” Harper didn’t hide her puzzlement.
“You’ve never covered a real missing-person story, have you?” Baxter gave her an assessing look.
Harper shook her head.
People had gone missing in Savannah before, of course. The police had asked the paper to run pictures of runaways now and then, usually