At First Light

by Mari Madison

  I pushed by her. Grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. Inside, Richard was indeed on the phone. He looked up when he saw me and frowned.

  “Is something wrong?” he mouthed.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m on a call. Can you come back in a—”

  “No. Now.”

  He sighed, saying something in the phone I couldn’t hear, mostly because the blood was rushing past my ears so loud at the moment it was hard to hear anything else. I forced myself to take a seat across from him, sucking in a shaky breath, trying to calm the fire raging inside of me. So I could make my case without sounding angry.

  Yeah. Good luck with that.

  Richard set the phone on its cradle. He looked at me, concern in his eyes. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked.

  “I want my old job back.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean? Your network job? I don’t think I can—”

  “No. The reporter job. The general assignment reporter. I want to be back out on the streets.”

  Richard gave me a long hard look and I struggled not to squirm under his gaze. At last he sighed. “I don’t think that would be a good idea right now,” he said.

  “Why not?” I demanded, feeling the anger raging through me again. “Why won’t you give me another chance? That day? It was just a bad day. It won’t happen again. I’ve done plenty of live shots now in the studio. I’m ready to get back out there. Go back to reporting real news.”

  “No, I get it,” Richard assured me. “I really do. But I need you to understand that’s not going to be possible. At least for the foreseeable future.”

  “Why not?”

  He sighed. “Your He Said, She Said segment is too good.”

  “Excuse me?” I stared at him, my eyes bulging from my head. He had to be kidding me, right?

  “Look, I was just on the phone with Cathy Anderson. You met her, right? News 9’s owner. She was positively gushing about your performance. And evidently the ratings were through the roof.”

  “So I’m popular. Good. Then I’ll be popular on general news as well.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But she wants you on this segment. And what Cathy wants?” He snorted. “She always gets. Sorry, man, you’re a victim of your own success. In fact, she’s even talking about creating an entire half-hour program with the two of you. Kind of a Siskel and Ebert thing, you know?”

  Horror coursed through me. I could hear his words, but I could barely make sense of them. They wanted me to continue the entertainment segment? Forever?

  “No.” I shook my head. “I won’t do it. She can’t make me.”

  Richard pursed his lips. “No. She can’t make you. But she can make sure you don’t do anything else. At this station or at any of the others in San Diego. Don’t underestimate her, Troy. She’s a very powerful woman. She can make you . . . or she can break you. And trust me, you don’t want her to break you.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m already pretty broken,” I wanted to shoot back. But I didn’t. Cause why bother? It wouldn’t change anything in the end.

  “Are you okay?” Richard asked, peering at me again. “You don’t look good. Is it because of that thing that happened Friday night? With the stalker at your apartment?”

  Great. Everyone knew about that. And, of course they did. This was a TV news station after all. Everyone knew everyone else’s business.

  “I’m fine,” I shot back with a little more venom than I meant to. I wondered suddenly if Richard had sent a team to my house like everyone else had. Were my coworkers even now stalking my front door, waiting for a scoop? “I just want the job I deserve. The job I applied for and got. You told me this entertainment thing was only temporary—until I got back on my feet. Well, I’m back. And I want my job back, too.”

  Richard sighed. “Even if Cathy gave the go-ahead, I wouldn’t put you back right now. I’m sorry. I’m looking at you now and you don’t seem okay. You’re yelling and you’re pacing my office. You look a little crazy to tell the truth.” He frowned. “Have you been taking care of yourself? Have you been sleeping at night? Have you been talking to a professional about what you went through?”

  Rage exploded inside of me. “That’s none of your goddamned business!”

  I watched as Richard rose from his seat. He set his hands on his desk, staring me straight in the eye. “You need to go home,” he said in an ultra calm voice that only served to make me angrier than I already was. “You need to go home and calm down. Take the rest of the day off. Hell, take the week off if you need to. But I do not want you here, in my newsroom, acting like this. Like you’re some bomb that’s ready to go off.”

  I staggered backward, his words hitting me with the force of a ten-ton truck. What was I doing? What was I saying? How did I look to my boss right now? The only boss who would even give me a chance, and I was proving to him I didn’t deserve one in the first place. Oh God. This was bad. This was really bad. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t need to—”

  “Stop right there, Troy. I don’t want to hear it. And I’m not kidding around. You either walk out that door now on your own accord or I will call security and they will escort you out. And everyone will see you go.” Richard leveled his eyes on me. “Is that how you want to play it?”

  “No.” I shook my head, my stomach twisting and turning. “No, of course not. I’ll . . . leave. I’ll leave now. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  I staggered to the door, trying to regulate my posture as I stepped back out into the newsroom. Trying to pretend nothing was wrong. But I saw the stares immediately and could hear the buzzing of whispers around the room. Of course. Everyone had probably heard the whole thing—the walls weren’t exactly thick and I’d been yelling pretty loud. Great. Just effing great.

  I sucked in a breath and held my head up high. Squared my shoulders and walked across the newsroom toward the door. Somehow I made it out of the building without causing any more of a scene than I already had.

  But once out in the parking lot? I started running.

  thirty

  SARAH

  I walked into the newsroom, feeling a little on edge. I’d spent the weekend at my father’s but when I’d gone back to my own house to grab some more clothes this morning, I’d found two broken front windows—and the inside of my house trashed. Ryan striking again. I’d called the police and gone through filing yet another report. The officer on duty swore up and down that they’d find him for me. That they’d lock him up and throw away the key. But their promises did little to ease the dread I felt at the pit of my stomach. As long as Ryan was still out there, I would never be completely safe.

  My fathers’ press conference and the new crime bill seemed to be the story of the day at News 9. And the second I stepped through the door I was bombarded by questions and interview requests. Even though my dad had promised to keep my name out of the headlines, no one was stupid—they all knew he was talking about me and I was suddenly the top story on every station. I told them I’d think about it when it came to the interview requests, but that was just my way of stalling them. The last thing I needed was to piss Ryan off further by talking about him on TV. I needed to lay low and stay out of sight and hope he would take the hint and move on.

  I stepped into the entertainment office, realizing it was empty. Ben was probably off working with one of the editors to put together tonight’s piece. But where was Troy? I glanced at my watch: He should be here by now.

  Worry threaded through me as I headed to my desk. I saw my phone blinking a message and wondered if it could be him. Though wouldn’t he call my cell phone? Sitting at my desk, I dialed in to check my messages. There was one new one to listen to.

  But it wasn’t from Troy.

  “Yeah, hi. This is uh, well, you can call me Don? I guess? Sorry, I’m a little nervous. I’ve never done something like
this before. So yeah. I work at Water World, you see. And I saw on the news this morning that you once tried to shut them down? And that now you work at News 9? I just thought . . . if you wanted to continue your investigation, I could get you in. I could show you what’s really going on here—what’s been going on. It’s pretty bad—but maybe you can still help them? I don’t know.” He gave a nervous laugh. “I sound like a crazy person, don’t I?” he continued. “Anyway, you can call me at this number, but please don’t share this with anyone else. I don’t want to lose my job.”

  The messaged ended. I stared down at my phone for a moment, shock reeling through me. Then I replayed the message again, listening more carefully this time and taking down the guy’s number. As my heart thudded madly in my chest, I found myself playing it a third time, still hardly able to believe what I was hearing.

  Finally, I set the phone back on its cradle, leaning back in my chair. Troubled thoughts raced through my head. When my dad had suggested the press conference, I’d thought only about the effect it would have on Ryan. I had no idea the ripples would go further than that. That some whistleblower would take notice and suddenly want to talk.

  I frowned, indecisiveness prickling at my skin. Was he legit? Should I call him back? Did I really want to get involved in all of this all over again? I mean, I wasn’t that same girl anymore. The one eager to expose wrongs and save the world. I had a job now. A life. If I dove back in, I could risk those things. I could get caught and arrested and maybe this time my dad wouldn’t be able to bail me out.

  And what if it was all some kind of trick? It didn’t sound like Ryan’s voice on the phone, but he could have gotten someone else to call. What if this was simply more stalking? Trying to reel me in with an offer I couldn’t refuse?

  But what if it wasn’t? What if it really was an employee wanting to help me accomplish what I’d failed to do five years before? What if it was my one chance to finally make good? I had no doubt those whales and dolphins and other sea creatures were still suffering. Still being neglected and maybe abused. I’d turned my back on them five years ago after everything had blown up in my face. But Ryan’s crime and Troy’s betrayal had nothing to do with them. They were innocent. They needed help. What if this was my chance to make that happen? If I threw away the guy’s number, pretended he never called, could I live with myself? Knowing I’d turned my back on those poor animals, all over again?

  I rose from my seat. I needed to find Troy. Needed to tell him about the phone call and see what he thought I should do. Maybe he’d even want to help me. Maybe we could go meet this guy together and see for ourselves whether he was the real deal. My heart thudded in my chest at the possibility.

  “Hey! There you are!” Ben walked into the entertainment center, a stack of papers and tapes in his hand. “Did you hear about Troy?”

  I frowned. “What about him? And where is he, anyway?”

  “Home, I guess. He totally flipped out on me—and then at Richard. He sent him home for the day. Evidently the whole newsroom heard his little temper tantrum.” He rolled his eyes. “Reporters.”

  Oh God. I bit my lower lip. Troy, what did you do now?

  “What happened?” I asked. “I mean, what set him off?”

  Ben shrugged. “Turns out he’s evidently not a big fan of the entertainment beat, go figure. I think he tried to get Richard to give him his old general assignment job back. Which, actually, in my opinion would be a really good—”

  “Right,” I said, cutting him off. My heart pounded in my chest as I pictured how it all must have gone down. “Look, I need to go try to find him, okay?” I told Ben. “Can you hold down the fort for me until I get back?”

  “Duh,” Ben said, looking thrilled at the opportunity to get rid of both of us in one afternoon. Two birds, one stone, and all that. He glanced down at his notes. “You already taped today’s segment Friday so there’s no live shot to worry about. There’s a screening later you’re scheduled for, but I think there’s another showing tomorrow.” He gave me a surprisingly thoughtful smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve got things under control.”

  Relief flooded through me. “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate that more than you know.”

  “Of course. Though I’m still holding you to that shopping spree offer,” he reminded me. “To get me looking the part of a reporter. If they do give Troy his old job back eventually, I want to be ready to step in.”

  “Anytime,” I promised. “Just name the date.”

  • • •

  I raced out of the newsroom to my car, then jumped in, heading to Troy’s house. I tried calling, but he didn’t answer the phone. Hopefully he’d gone straight home. He’d already wrecked one car and if he was as angry today as he had been that night, he’d definitely be a danger on the road.

  My heart ached in my chest as I tried to imagine how things had all gone down. Troy storming into Richard’s office, demanding to get his old reporting job back. Of course Richard would turn him down flat—it was only this past weekend that Mrs. Anderson had been gushing about his work and how popular the segment was with viewers. No way was she just going to let her new star go back to general reporting now. After all, anyone could do general news. But it took a special talent to rock the He Said, She Said segment.

  Which was, in a way, kind of a big compliment. But Troy wouldn’t see it like that. He was too much of a hard news guy. To him, this job was a demotion. And while I knew he’d been doing his best to treat it seriously, for my sake if nothing else, his heart was clearly not in it. And if he was already feeling riled up by all the chaos that had happened this weekend, I could see how things could come to a head.

  A red light stopped me in my tracks and I slammed my fist against the steering wheel in frustration. As I waited for the light to turn, my mind raced, trying to decide how to best approach Troy when I got there. What to do, what to say. Short, of course, of dragging him by his collar to a psychiatrist’s office and forcing him to seek the treatment he so desperately needed. I mean, how rock-bottom did we have to go before he’d finally admit he needed help?

  Of course, somewhere, deep down inside of him, he had to have already known that. He wasn’t stupid, after all. Just stubborn. Pigheaded. Proud. He’d always been so proud. Even now, when he was so broken, he couldn’t admit that he needed help being put back together. Because in his mind help equaled weakness. And Troy Young, of all people, could never let himself be seen as weak.

  Finally, I reached the apartment complex and pulled into the parking lot. To my dismay I realized a group of reporters were still camped out there, outside of Troy’s front door. I scowled at them as I passed.

  “Don’t you have anything better to do?” I demanded.

  One of them laughed. “Come on, sweetheart. This guy’s international news. We get him to talk, we get paid. I got nothing better to do than get paid.”

  “Well, he’s not going to talk.”

  “You don’t know that. Trust me, I’ve been doing this a long time. They eventually talk, if only to make us go away.”

  Rage exploded inside of me. “You guys are sick. This is a man’s life we’re talking about here!”

  The reporter shrugged. “It’s nothing personal, darling. We gotta feed our families, too.” He paused, then added, “Wait, you’re Mayor Martin’s daughter, aren’t you?” He raised his camera.

  I held my hand over my face. “No, thank you,” I said.

  “Come on, baby. Give us a smile. You’re at least worth a small payday—if only for the gossip columns.” He paused, then added with a bit of a feral grin, “Are you guys hooking up? Is that why you’re here? I heard you were here the other night, too. So is he your new boyfriend?”

  “No comment.”

  “Wait a second,” interjected the second reporter, walking up to the conversation. “You’re the one being stalked, right? I saw your daddy on TV
yesterday, talking about some crime bill he’s trying to push through.” The reporter stepped closer, invading my space. “Who’s stalking you, huh? Are you scared for your life? What do you think he’s going to do to you if he catches you?”

  The questions came like bullets, one after another. I staggered backward, as they all loomed toward me, cameras raised and ready. It was then that I glanced back at Troy’s apartment, noting that while the window shades were all pulled, a corner of one was slightly lifted—just a couple of inches. As if he were watching the scene from inside.

  With newfound strength, I turned back to the vipers in front of me, invading Troy’s nest. I needed to get rid of these guys. At least for a short time. So I could extract Troy and get him somewhere safe. Where no one could bother him.

  Sucking in a breath, I pasted on my biggest, brightest smile. “Fine. You want a story? I’ll give you a story. But you need to promise to get the hell out of here once I do.”

  “Sure, baby. You give us something to sell, we’ll take off.”

  I nodded. I knew they would come right back. But that would at least give me enough time to extricate Troy without them watching. Of course I didn’t really have much of a story to tell. The last thing I wanted was to talk about my stalking. There had to be something else they’d be interested in.

  Suddenly, I remembered the phone call back at work. The one from the employee of Water World.

  “Okay, here’s the deal,” I said. “I’m going to be staging a new protest against Water World. Remember how I did that back in the day? Well, now I’m going to shut those bastards down, once and for all. And when I do? I will give you guys the exclusive story behind my investigation. But only if you leave now.”

  They looked at one another and I could see the greed and excitement in their eyes. They knew that this could be a big story. But they still weren’t sure they could trust me to tell it. One of them turned back to me. “How do we know you’re going to call us?” he demanded.