“You’re talking about your anxiety medication?” Hayden asked.
The entire newsroom hushed. Hugo’s face grew red with embarrassment. “That’s just great. Announce it to the entire world!”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…Mr. Talley. I’m so sorry, I just…” Hayden was dissolving to tears, and Ray knew if he didn’t act quickly, there was a huge chance he would punch his boss.
He took Hugo’s arm, which was in and of itself a bold move. Hugo didn’t ever look like he wanted to be touched, under any circumstance. Then, to his own surprise, he said, “Mr. Talley, let’s step over here.”
Hugo yanked his arm away but followed Ray a few feet away and behind a camera.
“Are you okay?” Ray said when they were out of the hearing of others.
Hugo was visibly shaking. He seemed to be trying to calm down, taking deep breaths and closing his eyes. Ray was breathing deeply too, maybe to encourage it or maybe to keep himself from hyperventilating.
“Mr. Talley, I don’t think Hayden is capable of stealing anything. I’m sure this is a misunderstanding.”
Hugo could hardly look Ray in the eye. “I just need those pills.”
“Can you get through the newscast without them?” Ray said, glancing at the wall clock.
“I’m not going to wig out, if that’s what you mean,” Hugo snapped. Then he sighed disconcertedly. “Stop looking at me like that.”
Ray wasn’t exactly sure what kind of expression he was wearing. Not that an expression was going to make or break things at this point, but he tried to comply. Hayden still looked miserably concerned.
“We’re on the air in less than a half an hour, sir.” He nodded in Hayden’s direction. “Maybe you can do some damage control?”
Hugo glanced at her and then away. But then he shook his head. “I’m an idiot.”
“Oh, no…no…don’t say that…”
“Ray, shut up. You know it and I know it. We both know that girl wouldn’t take anything. I just jumped to conclusions because she’d told me I didn’t need to depend on those pills, and, well, I thought maybe she was trying to help me along. But it’s fairly obvious that I’m the one who made the mistake.” He left Ray and walked over to Hayden, who stood as he approached. “I’m sorry, Ms. Hazard. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”
“It’s no big deal, Mr. Talley,” Hayden said, touching his arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He turned to the group. “We need to focus. Can everyone just forget this happened?”
The entire newsroom nodded eagerly. Ray smiled. That was one way to get everyone on the same page.
“Good. Now, from this point on, no more distractions. Okay?”
Ray’s smile faded as he spotted Roarke, who was walking fast, pumping one arm while flailing the other. Ray stepped out from around the camera as Roarke approached the anchor desk.
“Roarke?” Hugo asked. “What’s wrong?”
Roarke caught his breath and stood up. “I don’t know what this means, but…but…”
Everyone waited impatiently as Roarke caught another breath.
He pointed toward the front door. “News Channel 10 just rolled up. And they’re setting up a camera in front of our station.”
Heather Lewis, Channel 10’s ace reporter, famous for her loud attire and even louder voice, didn’t look surprised to see Hugo walk out the front doors. In fact, she looked pleased to see him.
“Hello, Hugo,” she said, offering a red-gloved hand.
“Ms. Lewis.” Hugo tried to smile appropriately. “What exactly are you doing?”
“We’re going with a live shot in front of your station,” Heather said. “What does it look like?”
“And why would you do that?” Hugo asked.
Whether it was feigned or not, Heather looked surprised. “Our lead story is Gilda’s disappearance.”
“What?”
“You’re surprised by that?”
“Well, I mean…yes, I suppose.” Hugo tried to gather his thoughts and words. “It surprises me that you would give our station any unneeded attention.”
Heather’s carefully lined lips curved like a satisfied cat’s. “It is the big story.”
“It’s not that big,” Hugo said. “After all, there’s no evidence that anything bad has happened to Gilda.”
“Right. Sure.”
“You know something?”
“Hugo, you must be insane if you think I’m going to divulge that kind of information. Besides, you are the station with the missing anchor-woman. Surely you have the scoop on it.” A raised eyebrow showed she questioned her own statement.
“Morty must be desperate,” Hugo said, referring to Channel 10’s ten o’clock producer, who always made it a point to one-up Hugo at every awards banquet they attended. It didn’t matter if it was the news or the brand of clothing he wore, Morty was one of the worst one-uppers Hugo had ever known. “Well, carry on. And be sure and get a nice shot of that seven right there.”
Hugo walked back inside, chilled from the cold and hot from the conversation. He spotted Ray practicing. “You’re sure you got all the pertinent information on Gilda’s case?”
“I told you everything the police officer told me,” Ray said.
“Because it’s Channel 10’s lead story, and we’ve got ours buried five minutes into the newscast.”
Ray shrugged. “I don’t know, Mr. Talley. The officer I talked to seemed unconcerned.”
“You didn’t speak to Wynn, though.”
“No. Like I said, he was leaving.”
Hugo rubbed his temples. They had fifteen minutes to go. “Maybe we should move this up to our lead story.”
“With what? A few quotes from an officer about nothing? Mr. Talley, with all due respect, I really think the sewage plant is the big story.”
“Of course you do,” Hugo said. “I’ve got to go to my office and think.” Hugo walked into his office and closed the door. This was a total judgment call. Maybe Heather was bluffing, but it sounded like they had enough of a scoop to make this story tantalizing. All Channel 7 had was enough to sound like they were exploiting themselves. And if Ray was right, and this sewage story unfolded like they thought it would, the tables could turn, and Channel 7 could be on top.
He was going to have to go with his gut.
His gut.
It was strange, but all those emotions that the Blue Pill canceled out, when working properly, seemed like the very thing that might lead him in the right direction. Yes, he was full of angst, which stood in front of a long line of other emotions that wanted his attention. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he needed to feel again.
His mind instantly turned to Jane and her declaration of divorce. Did he really want to feel that? What good would that do? Still, something told him that he needed to feel even that. Maybe then, and only then, he would begin to understand it.
But how could he think about it all now? He had a newscast to run and a job on the line. He had to make the call. And he had to make it now.
Chapter 29
The electricity hovered over everyone in the newsroom. Even in the silence, there was a soft hum of energy. Hugo had never seen the newsroom so focused. Why weren’t they this alive all the time?
With his pills gone, Hugo nearly trembled inside, but he decided to embrace it rather than fear it. He’d been numb far too long. Everyone had already found out he was an above-average emotional guy. There was nothing left to hide now. And it felt good to feel a little fear again. It felt good to have his heart flutter with anticipation.
He decided not to focus on Channel 10. It was unnerving to have a rival television station outside, and there was nothing more he wanted to do than stand out there and see what they said. But he had a news show to run. So he assigned the task to Roarke, who tuned one of his televisions to Channel 10.
He’d made the call to run the wastewater treatment plant story. If Ray had his information right, they were g
oing to break one of the biggest stories of the year. Of course, if Ray was wrong, they were going to get flushed.
With two minutes until airtime, Hugo decided to give the anchors a pep talk. “Hayden,” he said through her IFB.
“Yes, Mr. Talley?”
“Tate, can you hear me too?”
“Yes.”
“Listen, I know there’s a lot going on. We’re all curious about why Channel 10 is out there. But we need to put that aside right now. I want you both to be upbeat, okay? We don’t want to show any signs that we’re stressed over the fact that another news station has decided to make us its focus. So I want to see smiles—not smirks, Tate—and complete professionalism. As you know, were going to touch on Gilda’s story, but we’re not going to linger on it. So report it as you would any other story. The emphasis tonight is going to be on the wastewater treatment plant, as you know. All right, then. Let’s do our best. Everyone up for the challenge?”
They both nodded, and Hayden shot her thumbs-up. Hugo smiled. That girl was something else.
Willis was counting down. “And we’ve got seven…six…five…four…”
Hugo held his breath.
“Good evening. I’m Tate Franklin.”
“And I’m Hayden Hazard. Thanks for joining us. Breaking news tonight in the investigation into the wastewater treatment plant explosion last week. News Channel 7’s Ray Duffey has uncovered new and disturbing information. Ray?”
“That’s right, Hayden,” Ray said, sitting tall on the edge of a desk with the newsroom as his back drop. He looked determined and focused. Hugo smiled, remembering a time when he, too, tackled every news story with that kind of zeal. And then he let out a breath, because he knew Ray was going to handle it. He’d viewed the tape Ray put together, and it gave a lot of information without making broad statements they couldn’t back up with proof or sources.
Ray continued. “Though no one was seriously injured in the explosion last week, questions remain about the cause of the explosion. Plant spokesman Ron Griffith attributed the blast to human error, but our investigation uncovered an unlikely error: greed.”
“Roll tape,” Willis said.
And then the control-room phone rang. An assistant in the back answered it and announced, “Mr. Talley, it’s Trent.”
“Trent?” Hugo rushed to the phone. “Trent, what’s wrong? Your segment’s up in eight minutes.”
“I know…sir, there’s been a shooting at the mall, and I wasn’t sure if I should—”
Hugo looked up and the control-room door opened. Roarke stood in the doorway, and Hugo had never seen that shade of gray on a human being before. “Roarke?”
“No sir, it’s Trent. I’m at the mall and there’s—”
“Cover it if you’ve got enough info,” Hugo said into the phone.
“But sir, I’m not sure how to—if I should talk about the Christmas decorations and—I’ve never done something like this with so little time—”
“Handle it,” Hugo said, and he hung up the phone. He glanced at the monitor as he rushed toward Roarke. Ray’s piece was still running. “Roarke? Are you okay?”
Roarke went from gray to white, and his eyes seemed unfocused.
“Roarke? Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“Can you step outside?” Roarke whispered.
Hugo glanced at Willis, whose focus had left the monitors. Hugo gestured for him to pay attention to his job and then stepped outside the control room. “What is it?”
“Channel 10 just finished their lead story.”
“About Gilda, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So what’d they say?”
Roarke blinked slowly, and for a moment Hugo thought he might pass out. “What’s wrong? What’d they say?”
“Well, it pretty much went down like this. They reported that the police went to Gilda’s condo after they received a complaint that she had been missing for several days and had not reported into work as she normally would.”
“And?”
“They found that the back-door lock had been picked, but the condo seemed relatively undisturbed, and no clothes or suitcases appeared to be missing. Everything seemed in order and there were no signs of a struggle.”
Hugo smiled. “And that’s what they led with? We’re running a story about how the wastewater treatment plant’s director has an embezzlement history and that he owns the company that supplied the chemical that may have caused the explosion, and that’s all they’ve got? Beautiful!” Hugo slapped his hands together. His gut was paying off.
“Uh…”
“What?”
“There’s a little bit more.”
“Okay.” Hugo couldn’t imagine anything that would trump his sewage plant card.
“They, um, well, they also found something else. A small thing, really. I mean, I think they’re blowing it way out of proportion. You know how Channel 10 always embellishes to make things sound more dramatic than they—”
“Roarke, what did they report?”
“Something about some letters.”
“Some letters? What letters?”
Roarke started turning gray again. “Love letters.”
Love letters? Hugo was trying hard to understand, but none of this was making sense. “What are you saying?”
“The police found some love letters from someone to Gilda. And according to the police, they’re focusing their investigation on whoever might’ve sent them.”
Hugo rolled his eyes. “For crying out loud. They’re going to make this into some lurid love triangle? What nonsense! What, did they quote some anonymous source?”
“They quoted Captain Wynn.”
“How did that happen? We were supposed to get the quote from Captain Wynn!”
Roarke looked unable to breathe, let alone answer.
“That’s it! I’m calling Channel 10 this instant! This is ridiculous! I am not going to put up with their attempts to smear us during sweeps week!”
“Uh…you don’t have to call. They’re still outside, and they don’t look like they’re going anywhere fast.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re not packing up. They still have their camera set up and they’re just standing out there.”
Hugo walked in circles, unsure of what to do. The door to the control room opened and an assistant said, “Willis needs you. Now.”
Hugo walked in to find Willis gesturing toward a monitor that showed Trent. “What is he doing?” Willis asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Listen.”
“…in front of Sneaker Sneaker, next to a large display of Santa and eight tiny reindeer. The manager of the store said he didn’t…um”—Trent looked down at his notes—“didn’t hear anything, but that he…saw people…they were running…screams…well, one lady screamed…and then…okay, let’s see what happened here. One lady screamed, and then, yes, then some people snuck behind the Santa into Sneaker Sneaker, thinking they were going to—well, I can’t say what they were thinking because I wasn’t there, but I am coming to you live now…anyway, with the account from the…”
“Tell Dale to have him wrap up!” Hugo barked, and Willis ordered the cameraman to give Trent his signal. Trent, however, wasn’t even looking at the camera. He was flipping through his notes.
“…anyway, so they all came into the store, and not to buy sneakers, allegedly, I mean…and…”
“Tell Dale to give him the signal again!”
Willis ordered it, but Trent had yet to look up at the camera. The crowd now gathered behind Trent, however, noticed it and they were all staring at the cameraman, probably wondering what he was doing with his finger over his head.
“…and the manager tells me that there was a lot of chaos and that people were screaming…well, again, it was the one lady, but she sounded like several people…and so then, it turns out, what they thought was a gun sound was just a blow-up snow globe that popped. Incidentally, that sn
ow globe was erected on November 15.”
Trent finally looked up at the camera, saw Dales signal, and with wide eyes said, “Uh, back to you.”
Willis cut to Tate, and for the first time ever, that stupid little smirk looked appropriate. Tate seemed at a loss for what to say. Willis cut to the wide shot, and Hayden stepped in to fill in the silence. “All right. Thank you, Trent. We’re so glad everyone’s okay. They sound like they had quite a scare. Is the woman who screamed okay?”
“No! Not back to Trent!” Hugo lamented. But Willis had no choice, and he cut to Trent. “I told Hayden to stop asking reporters questions!”
“She’s fine,” Trent managed, doing his best to look calm and collected.
“All right. Trent, thanks for that report.” She turned to Tate. “And sounds like we’ve got some more cold weather moving into the state tomorrow.”
“That’s what I hear,” Tate said. “How about it, Sam?”
Hugo walked outside the control room, gulping air. His chest felt like it was going to explode. He went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. His mind was spinning with one scenario after another. Thoughts bounced around the walls of his brain like a handful of small rubber balls.
Back in the hallway, he glanced out a window and saw the back end of Channel 10’s van still sitting there. Why in the world were they sticking around?
Hugo’s stomach cramped and he moaned as he backed himself against the wall. There was something to be said for numbness.
Ray finished his segment. It had gone really well. He’d never felt so good about anything he’d ever done. He was covering real news with a real impact on people’s lives. Suddenly the eight stitches in his head seemed worth it.
He’d decided to watch the rest of the news on the floor, and during a commercial had given Hayden a big thumbs-up, hoping to encourage her. She seemed a little nervous but was handling herself well.
During the break after the weather segment she’d said, “Am I looking upbeat enough?”
Ray laughed. He wasn’t sure she was capable of looking downbeat.
“You’re doing wonderfully,” he said, gleeful enough for a couple of the cameramen to exchange glances and laugh. Ray didn’t care if they laughed at him. She was great enough for him to endure it.
Scoop Page 24
