The Blackout

by K J Kalis

  33

  Kat still hadn’t heard anything more from Yasmin or Freddie. There was still no word from Theresa. As soon as she dropped Jack off at school, she headed to the Cal Fire station where Freddie worked. She thought she would get a better reception from Freddie than if she showed up at Yasmin’s office.

  She stopped at the reception desk, “Is Freddie Henderson here?”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, but I need to see him. It’s about a fire. My name is Kat Beckman.” The woman behind the desk, not the same one as the first time she was at the station, eyed her suspiciously, as she picked up the phone. “You can have a seat over there. I’ll see if he’s available.”

  Kat sat down on a bench that was placed against the wall, looking from side to side. She crossed her legs, her foot bobbing nervously. She didn’t know if Freddie was even in the office or if he’d agree to see her. They’d been friendly the last time they talked, but she was sure he was busy with other cases — especially the marina fire.

  The woman stood up from behind the counter. “Freddie said you can go up. He’s in his office.”

  Kat nodded and ran up the steps. She knocked on his door.

  “Come on in!”

  As she opened the door, she noticed that Freddie had his back to her. He was looking out the window. “Freddie?”

  He turned around, his lanky frame seeming to take a minute to catch up with the rest of him. He had a toothpick in his mouth. “How are you, Kat? This is a nice surprise.” He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk, “Sit down. Can I get you coffee?”

  “No, I’m good.” She jiggled her foot as they got through the pleasantries.

  Freddie folded himself onto his chair. “What brings you back to this fine establishment?”

  “Have you heard from Yasmin? Anything more on the fraternity? I’ve been trying to get information, but it’s sketchy at best.”

  “On the first count, no. Yasmin has been AWOL. Did you try to call her?”

  “Yeah, but they don’t have anything. Theresa’s phone won’t even ping.”

  Freddie’s brows furrowed. “That’s not a good sign, is it?”

  “No. What about the fraternity?”

  Freddie started to answer, but his phone rang. “Hold on for a sec. It’s the Chief.”

  Kat sat and waited, the knot in her stomach growing by the minute. She felt trapped as if there was nowhere to go. She didn’t have any more information on Theresa, on what Bart was hiding or what was going on with the fire. She needed information. It wasn’t that she wanted to publish it, she just wanted to feel the resolution, as if she finished doing what Theresa asked her to do.

  Freddie stood up. “I’m sorry, Kat. There was another fire overnight. I’ve gotta go.”

  “A wildfire? Like a blue dot?”

  “No, it was a church. Nearly killed the pastor. He’s in the hospital.”

  Kat followed Freddie out of the front door and walked to her car. He had told her nothing. She watched him leave in his Cal Fire SUV and was tempted to follow him, but she needed to keep him on her side. She started her Jeep and turned the corner, trying to decide where to go.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was pulling into Van’s office. The Hot Sheet had an entire building to themselves with their rapid growth. Van’s office was on the fourth floor. She waved at the security guard, Ken, who was watching the monitors at the front desk as she pulled out her ID, swiped it and clipped it to her pocket.

  The elevator chimed on the fourth floor and she was met by the smell of new carpet, fresh paint and coffee brewing. The tapping of people typing on their computers, the hum of voices and the sound of footsteps washed over her. She loved the newsroom.

  When Van had agreed to take over The Hot Sheet, he had three specific requests. The first was that he could wear whatever he wanted. In his case, it was usually some sort of t-shirt, a pair of worn jeans and flip flops. The second request was that all the reporters worked on the same floor as him. Accounting, production and advertising could go on the other floors. The final request was that he got to choose his assistant. After his last assistant, Alyssa, had been murdered, Kat couldn’t blame him.

  The woman he chose was short and round with a crown of frizzy curls that never seemed to be able to choose a direction. Her name was Stephanie. Van liked her because she was very organized and quick to get people in line. Kat had seen her take entitled veteran reporters and put them in their place within seconds.

  “Kat! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Stephanie said as soon as she spotted her. “Are you still running? I keep meaning to start, but with this body…”

  Kat gave her a hug. “I’m glad to see you too. Anytime you want to start, let me know.” Kat and Stephanie met for lunch occasionally. Stephanie had started the tradition when Van hired her. She said she wanted to know about their home life a little so she could better manage his schedule. Kat thought it was a strange request at the time, but over the last few months, she had seen it work out amazingly well. Van was one of the few father figures, even if he wasn’t Jack’s dad, that could get to baseball games and whatever else was going on with little trouble. Kat knew that was all due to Stephanie.

  Van emerged from inside the office, the snap of his flip flops sounding with every step. “I thought I heard some friendly voices outside my door. What are you doing here?” He leaned over and gave Kat a kiss on the cheek.

  “I had something to talk to you about. Work-related.” Kat pressed her lips together.

  “Yeah, sure. Come on in. I don’t have anything for a while, right, Steph?”

  She nodded. “That’s right. Clear sailing except for a meeting later on today. Coffee anyone?”

  Kat waved her off. “I don’t think I’ll be here that long, but thank you, though.”

  Stephanie smiled as she walked away. “Let me know if you change your mind. I make a mean cup of joe!”

  Kat followed Van into his office and closed the door. “So, what got you to come into the office?” Van said, settling back into the chair behind his desk.

  “I just came from Cal Fire. I went to see Freddie — do you remember? He was the guy that stopped over?”

  “How could I forget? Eight miles tall with red hair and a toothpick. Yup.”

  “I stopped in to see if he’d heard anything more about Theresa.”

  “You didn’t talk to the FBI agent?”

  “I tried that. She’s either got nothing or she won’t tell me anything or both.”

  Van scowled. “Yeah, she’s not exactly the chatty type, is she? Did Freddie know anything more?”

  “That’s the thing. He had to run out before I could really talk to him. He had to go work another fire — something about a church.”

  Van picked up a pen. “Yeah, I heard about that. We’ve got someone taking a look. Sounds like it was bad.”

  “He said the pastor is in the hospital.” Kat put her hand up as if she was stopping that part of the conversation for the moment. “Anyway, I still think there is something going on. I haven’t heard from Theresa. Jack said Mike hasn’t been back to school and there’s the matchbook…”

  “The matchbook?”

  “Didn’t I tell you this? Freddie found a matchbook at the marina fire that was from Theta Sigma Delta. That’s the same fraternity that Bart was a part of.”

  “Any chance Bart had a boat at that marina?”

  Kat stopped. The reason that journalists worked in groups was that inevitably someone would notice something that should have been obvious that the lead investigator missed. This was one of those moments. Kat had been so focused on Theresa and Mike that she hadn’t considered that Bart could have had a boat at the Marina. Her heart quickened. This might be the link that she needed. A wash of confusion came over her. “I hadn’t thought of that. Wouldn’t Freddie have told me?”

  Van leaned his head to the side and shook it slowly. “Not necessarily. I mean, why would he? He’s got an investi
gation into a major fire that, from what I’ve heard, took lives. He’s not going to tell the media everything. That’s why we dig, Kat. You know that.”

  The words shook Kat. It felt like someone had blown the rust off of her journalistic joints. At that moment, she realized that she had been sitting for too long. Van’s promotion had allowed her to focus on Jack, which was what she wanted, but she had lost her edge. Her drive had been buried by baseball games and groceries.

  She leaned back in the chair and then got up, pacing in front of the window. Anger and embarrassment covered her. She felt silly. It wasn’t as though her boss was chastising her. He was, but he was also her husband. And he was right. If she wanted the answers about what happened to Theresa and why the blue dots on the power management screen spooked her, Kat would have to dig. She’d have to remember how to do it. She’d have to find a way to get the information she needed. A plan began to form in her mind. Once she had something, then she could go to Freddie and Yasmin and horse trade. She’d have something to offer. They would have to give her information in order to get hers. That’s how it had worked between reporters and investigators for generations. Nothing was different now.

  “You are right. We need a plan,” Kat said, turning to look at him.

  “I’m guessing you have one?”

  Kat nodded, her eyes wide. “I do, but it’s a little illegal.”

  “My favorite kind.”

  * * *

  A half-hour later, Kat left the office, the equipment she needed in her purse. Stephanie, as usual, had exactly what she needed and was more than happy to help out. From Van’s office, she drove straight to Palm Coast Electric & Power’s headquarters. She got out of her Jeep, pulled her purse out with her and went in the front door. Approaching the front desk, she looked at the receptionist and said, “Hi. I’m Kat Beckman. I’d like to speak to Sal Manko if he’s in.”

  The woman, tight-lipped, wearing a headset, said, “Do you have an appointment?”

  “I don’t. Will you let him know I’m here, though? I believe he will see me.”

  The woman nodded and whispered something into her headset as Kat looked away. Her plan depended on getting in to see him. She was betting he would take the bait. Her heart fluttered. He needed to, or she’d have to come up with another plan.

  The time ticked by, her heart beating, waiting to get a response from the receptionist. “Ma’am,” she called to Kat. “If you are willing to wait, he can see you in a few minutes. He’s in a meeting right now.”

  Kat smiled, trying not to do so too enthusiastically. “Thank you.”

  The woman pointed, her long pink fingernail showing Kat where to go. “Stop at the security desk. They will give you a visitor’s badge. Mr. Manko’s office is on the fifth floor. Follow the signs when you get off the elevator.”

  Kat clutched her purse to her side and walked to the security desk where she had to sign in. She wasn’t impressed by their security system. The man barely looked at her when he checked her face against her driver’s license. She could have used a fake. Kat wasn’t sure he would have known the difference.

  Once she had her badge, the guard pointed through the lobby. “You’ll find the bank of elevators over there. Fifth floor.” Without another word, he sat down.

  “Thanks.” Kat walked across the marble floor that covered the lobby of Palm Coast Electric & Power. It was plush enough for a corporate headquarters, although not overdone. It was what Kat would expect for a utility company. She considered this as she pressed the button to call the elevator. The decor was definitely too stodgy for a tech company or a design firm. It was the right balance of conservative and opulent for a utility, though.

  As the doors of the elevator closed, the butterflies in her stomach started to move around. She was nervous. It had been a while since she had been on this type of information gathering mission. The elevator chimed and said in an automated voice, “Floor five. Watch your step.” Kat walked out of the elevator and stopped, not sure which way to go. There was an office directly ahead of her with glass doors. Several names were listed on it, including Sal Manko.

  The door pulled open with a whoosh and a receptionist looked up at her without saying a word. “Hello,” Kat said, trying to sound meek. “I’m Kat Beckman. I’m here to see Mr. Manko when he has a moment.”

  The woman, her hair tied in a severe bun behind her neck, nodded. “He will be with you shortly.”

  Kat turned and sat down, choosing a chair that gave her a view of the hallway where she assumed the offices were located. She pulled out her phone and looked at it. From time to time, Kat glanced up, noting the location of doorways and watching people move around in the dark hallways that protruded off of the reception area.

  The offices to her left seemed to be much busier than the ones on her right. Doors were open, lights were on and people were moving around. The door at the end of the hallway, a polished wood slab from what she could see, was closed. The hallway on the right side was mostly dark, doors to offices closed with few people moving around.

  She pulled her purse up on her lap, rooting around as if she was looking for something. She fingered the items that Stephanie had given her and put them back in the bottom of her bag. Her plan would only work if she could hold up her end of the bargain and the equipment that Stephanie gave her did its job. Time would tell.

  “Ms. Beckman,” the receptionist called.

  “Yes?”

  “You can go down the hallway to the door at the end. Mr. Manko is just finishing a meeting. He’s ready for you now.”

  Kat nodded and picked up her purse, walking down the hallway. As she got to Sal’s door, she was about to knock when a young man came flying out, his head down, face red, the lapels of his suit jacket flying away from his body. He nearly knocked Kat over with the speed at which he left Sal’s office. She wondered what had happened. He was clearly upset.

  “Mr. Manko?”

  “Kat? Yes, come in.” Sal was seated behind his desk, his thin black hair hovering over his scalp. He had on a maroon tie that matched the color of the carpet, although it wasn’t completely tight against his neck. His suit jacket was on, but open, pulling away from his body. He stood up and shook her hand. “Sorry about that.” He pointed to the door where the young man had nearly knocked Kat over. “A new hire. Not performing as expected.”

  “He seemed upset.”

  “He was. What can I do for you?”

  Kat tried to appear apologetic. “I’m so sorry for bothering you. I know you must be terribly busy, but I was just wondering if you had heard anything about Theresa Walsh? I’m not sure if you remember, but I’m the one that was at the hospital with their son, Mike, the other day?”

  “Yes, yes. Of course, I remember. I saw you. Why are you asking about Theresa?”

  Kat looked down, happy that her eyes filled with tears. They were real, and the timing couldn’t be better. “I just… She’s my friend. I haven’t been able to reach her. I’m worried about her.” Kat looked at him, a couple of tears running down her face. She did feel sad about Theresa and she was worried. She was being genuine about that. She wasn’t, however, being genuine about why she was asking, at least not totally. She rummaged through her bag. “I’m sorry. Do you have a tissue?” Kat glanced around the office. There weren’t any to be seen.

  “Of course. Let me get you some.” Sal got up from his desk and walked out, closing the door partially behind him. Kat pulled a plastic capsule out of her bag and opened it. Inside, there were two small round objects, each with adhesive on the back. She lifted the phone that sat on his desk and put one on the bottom of it. The second one, she positioned under the edge of his desk, near where she was sitting. She was back in her seat by the time he came in the door with a box of tissues. “I’m sorry. I have no idea why they don’t keep these stocked for me.”

  Kat sniffled. “It’s no problem.” He handed her a tissue. “Thank you.”

  “So, you were saying?”

/>   “Yes. I know Theresa from baseball. Our boys are good friends. It just broke my heart that she wasn’t at the hospital the other day. It was so scary with the ambulance and the doctors and all that. I just know she would have wanted to be there, but the thing is…” She let the sentence drop.

  “What were you saying?” Sal leaned forward on his desk, his arms folded, his brow furrowed.

  “The thing is that she told me she and Bart were having problems. I didn’t want to bother him with this. I understand that a man in his position has to be careful.” Kat’s stomach lurched, wondering if she had said too much. She needed to bait the hook, not pull on it.

  Sal leaned back in his chair. “Yes, Mr. Walsh is in a unique position.” He stood up. “This is what I can do. I’ll check with Mr. Walsh on Theresa and have her give you a call. You know, she does travel. Maybe she’s out of town?”

  Kat stood up, understanding their meeting was over. “Oh, she might be out of town?” she said, dabbing her eyes. “She didn’t mention it. That might explain everything!” She reached out to shake his hand. “Thank you for taking the time, Mr. Manko. I feel so much better. I really do. Tell Bart, I mean Mr. Walsh, I said hi!”

  “Of course. Leave your name and cell phone number with the receptionist and hopefully, we can get back with you.”

  Kat nodded and did as he asked. She stopped at the desk and wrote her name and number on a piece of paper and gave it to the receptionist who promised to give it to Sal. She wasn’t sure if she would, but that didn’t matter.

  She stopped at the security desk, signed out and returned her badge to the bored guard. As soon as she got to the Jeep, she sent a text to Van. “Done,” was all it said. Her phone rang within a few seconds.

  “How did it go?” he asked as she pulled out of the Palm Coast Electric & Power parking lot.

  “Pretty good. I cried.”

  Van started to laugh, the echo of it booming through the phone. “Real tears?”

  “Yeah, sort of. It got him out of the office at least.”

  “Great. I’m going to send you a link you can use to listen in. Remember anything he says can’t be used in print or in court — there’s no warrant — but we can use what we hear to get more information to find more evidence. That make sense?”