Scoop

by Rene Gutteridge

  He didn’t dare tell Hugo what he’d done. Not yet, anyway. He still had time, if he could just get some information from Gilda. And if not from Gilda, then maybe from Gilda’s computer.

  “Roarke, I need your help.”

  Roarke took off his headphones. “I’m kind of busy. There’s a wreck on the interstate.”

  “I need to get on Gilda’s computer.”

  “Why?”

  “I just want to see if there’s anything there that connects her to Petey Green.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “You can get on Gilda’s computer, right?”

  “Me?”

  “You’re the assignment editor. With Gilda not here, you have reason to look for what stories she was working on to reassign them.”

  “That’s Hugo’s job.”

  “And Hugo is obviously busy trying to find a new anchor, so he doesn’t have time.” Ray paused. “And there’s always the chance you could happen upon an e-mail from a male friend. It might be nice to know if she’s seeing anybody else.”

  “I’m not promising anything.” Roarke bit his lip and looked around. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

  Ray looked up and saw Hugo waving him into his office. “Uh-oh,” Ray muttered and walked to Hugo’s office.

  “This is the worst day of my life,” Hugo announced.

  Ray waited, unsure if Hugo was actually talking to him.

  “How could so much bad luck happen all at once?” Hugo asked. “Could it be possible that Hayden Hazard, of all people, will be able to pull this off? She has the exact look, for sure, and apparently nerves of steel, because she doesn’t look the least bit nervous. She keeps saying, ‘Hugo, I just want to help. Whatever I can do to help.’ Like she wants to bring over a casserole after knee surgery or something. It’s like it doesn’t occur to her that she should be nervous, that lots of people’s jobs, including her own, rest on her ability to appear professional.”

  Ray could offer only a nod.

  “So I should just act like I want the casserole?” Hugo asked, locking eyes with Ray, waiting for an answer. “Maybe Hayden has a special recipe that can make you forget about your knee pain, at least temporarily.” Ray wasn’t sure he was following the metaphor very well.

  Hugo sighed. “Anyway, I called you in here because I need you to call in a favor to Captain Wynn.”

  “A favor?”

  “You’ve always been tight with him, and he seems to like you a lot—”

  “What do you need Captain Wynn for?”

  “To help us find Gilda.”

  “Right. Sure. I’m on it.”

  Much to his dismay, Ray realized he was going to have to apologize profusely for earlier, then ask the captain to send an officer over to Gilda’s. He was probably going to have to beg for another interview, which at this point could be the only piece of Ray’s story.

  Things were not looking good.

  He walked out of the station, where Beaker was loading equipment into the truck and not looking very happy about it. At least the snow had stopped, almost at the exact time Sam had broken into the regular programming to alert the public that it was snowing.

  “Hi.”

  Ray whirled around and saw Hayden. She was leaning against the brick wall, her arms wrapped around herself.

  “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!”

  “I just stepped out for a moment. I needed some fresh air.”

  “Hugo told me you’re anchoring tonight.”

  “Looks like it,” she grinned. “Tate couldn’t do it alone, and Hugo was out of options.”

  “But you’ve never been in front of a camera, have you?”

  “I did a lot of performing with my parents’ clown company before we figured out I was afraid of clowns. People always had their video cameras out, taping us. I learned to memorize lines and things like that. This is easier. I don’t have to memorize the lines because they’re right there in that…what’s it called?”

  “TelePrompTer.”

  “Yeah. And plus, I’m terrified of clowns, so if I can hold it together around a clown, I figure this will be a breeze.”

  Ray wondered if Hayden had any idea what an extraordinary event this was. She didn’t look like she did. He glanced toward the van and saw that Beaker was still busy. This was his chance. He had to ask her out now, or the weekend would be upon them, and he would lose a perfectly good opportunity to get to know her. Plus, he knew that somewhere inside Sam was studying the Torah.

  “Let’s go!” Beaker called to him and hopped inside the truck.

  “Guess you better get going,” Hayden said, smiling at him. Ray felt his knees go weak. That smile was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

  “Would you like to go out with me?” Ray could feel his eyes enlarge with each word until he imagined he looked dumbfounded. He tried to accompany it with a small smile.

  “I’d love to. I always thought it would be fun to go out in the field, see what it’s like to be a reporter. But I think Hugo’s got plenty for me to do here. Looks like Beaker’s ready to go, though.”

  Ray closed his eyes. She’d missed it completely, which meant she wasn’t at all expecting it—which meant, quite possibly, she wasn’t interested.

  “Ray!” Beaker shouted, waving his hand as if Ray were too deaf to hear his name being called.

  “Oh, right.” Ray smiled, but then he stopped smiling. No, he wasn’t going to give up this easy. “I meant, um, I meant on a date. Would it be okay if you asked me out… I mean, if I asked you out. On a date.”

  Hayden’s hand found her mouth and she giggled. Okay, giggling is a good sign, he thought. “I’m sorry, Ray,” she laughed. “I didn’t realize that’s what you meant.”

  “I should’ve been a little clearer,” he said, though he’d never once had to reword that phrase before. “So what do you say? Would you like to go out this weekend?”

  “I’m sorry, Ray. I already have plans for the weekend.”

  “Ray! Come on!”

  “Hold on a second!” Ray shouted back, and Hayden covered her ears.

  “Sorry,” Ray smiled meekly. “So…plans. Surely not the whole weekend?” Ray tried to pose the question in a nondesperate way.

  “Yeah. The whole weekend.”

  “Oh.” Ray’s gaze fell to his feet. “Cool. Well, have fun, then.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for the offer.”

  Offer. Great. No problem. Maybe next time he could offer to wash her car. He turned and barreled toward the van as fast as he could, considering there were patches of ice everywhere. The truck started rolling before Ray could close the door.

  Beaker snickered. “Crashed and burned, did you?”

  “Shut up, Beaker.”

  “She’s kind of out of your league, isn’t she?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? How is she out of my league?”

  “Hello? She’s like an anchor now.”

  “She’s not an anchor. She’s filling in.”

  “Everybody knows anchors don’t date reporters.”

  Ray glared out the windshield. Sam had gotten to her first. Apparently, so had fame.

  “Yes, Mr. Talley?” Hayden asked as she walked into his office.

  “Come on in, Ms. Hazard. Please, shut the door.” He gestured toward the only chair in his office. “Have a seat.”

  The suit they’d taken from Gilda’s wardrobe closet fit Hayden like it was tailored for her. She looked transformed in an instant, from lowly and humble assistant to hot, superstar anchor. But Hugo knew looks could be deceiving. There were no guarantees she could pull it off, and his only hope was that the police would be able to find Gilda soon.

  In the meantime, he wanted to know Hayden’s dirty little secret. “I know, you know,” he said, giving her a wicked wink.

  “Know, sir?”

  “I recognize it.”

  “Recognize what, Mr. Talley?”

  “Oh, now, come on. Don’t be
so discreet. And there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. To tell you the truth, I’m a little jealous. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  A wide smile couldn’t hide Hugo’s embarrassment, but he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He was just going to have to prod a little more.

  “Look, Hayden,” he said, warming his tone, “I’ve been telling my doctor for a while now that I needed a stronger dosage, but maybe what I need is a completely different pill, you know? They’re making such strides in medicine these days, finding all kinds of things out about the human body. So ’fess up, will you? I know you’re on something.”

  “Sir, I—”

  “Don’t you think I recognize unnatural calmness when I see it? You’re getting ready to anchor the ten o’clock for the first time, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were about to embark on an all-expenses-paid vacation. Come on, now. Just tell me what you’re on. Nobody in this room is going to judge you.”

  “You’re the only other person in this room.”

  “Exactly. That’s what I’m saying. We’ll keep this between us, okay?”

  “Mr. Talley, you’re going to have to spell this out for me, because I’m clueless as to what you’re talking about.”

  Hugo blinked. She really did look clueless. But then again, Hayden was turning out to be full of surprises. Maybe she was also a good actress. “Antianxiety medication.”

  Hayden shook her head. “I’m not on any medication.”

  “Hayden, come on. Don’t make me pull it out of you. It’s not obvious to everyone, okay? So don’t go getting paranoid on me. If anyone understands, it’s me. I just happen to think your pill is working better than mine. You’re on the purple one, aren’t you? I told my doctor the purple one was better, but she—”

  Hayden held up her hands and leaned forward, looking Hugo directly in the eye. There. Now they were finally getting somewhere. “Mr. Talley,” she said softly, “what in the world are you on antianxiety medication for?”

  Hugo felt his chest tighten. “Because I’m anxious.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “That’s because I’m on medication.”

  “You’re saying you have an anxiety disorder?”

  Hugo sighed. “I haven’t been officially diagnosed, if that’s what you mean, but that doesn’t—”

  “Mr. Talley, with all due respect, do you know where anxiety comes from?”

  Hugo paused. Was this a trick question

  “From not trusting God, Mr. Talley. We’re all going to be anxious if we think we’re in control of our lives, because we’re constantly making mistakes. Do you know what I mean? We’ve got to trust our Father in heaven to take care of us, even when we mess up. Or when others mess things up for us.”

  Hugo’s mouth was still hanging open, and for the life of him, he couldn’t shut it.

  “Look,” she said, very matter-of-factly, “you’re a capable man, Mr. Talley. You show it day in and day out, and it’s not because of medication. The only thing that’s missing is trust. Trust in God. When you give God your life, and trust him to take care of you, what in the world do you have to be fearful of?”

  “I’m not fearful, I’m anxious,” Hugo replied.

  “They’re twins, Mr. Talley. One feeds the other.” Hayden stood from leaning against his desk. “I challenge you to stop depending on that pill and start depending on God.” Her finger pointed to the ceiling.

  Hugo had no idea what to do, so he looked up. He’d been hit on, cursed at, lied to, but never preached at. Normally she looked so serene, but now she had some kind of fire in her eyes. He’d once had an aunt who liked to slay people in the Spirit. He wasn’t exactly sure what was about to happen now, so he stared at the ceiling and hoped someone might glance in and notice something awry.

  “See?” she said plainly. “You look anxious again.”

  “Listen,” he said, tearing his eyes off the ceiling. “I’m not judging you, but you’re making me very uncomfortable.”

  “That’s because you’re not trusting God. Mr. Talley, believe me when I say that there simply is no other way to live. Dont you know that at any moment any part of your life could be gone in an instant? What would you do then? How do you cope when you don’t have any guarantees?”

  Hugo felt himself growing a little angry. What was she guaranteeing him? Some anxiety-free life if he repented and turned from his wicked ways?

  “Look, if you want to talk about sin, go preach to Chad Arbus. He knows a thing or two about it.”

  Hayden frowned. “Who said anything about sin?”

  Hugo paused, realizing she had not, in fact, mentioned sin. So why had he felt compelled to bring it up? He looked at her, embarrassed by the feeling that he needed to hold his ground. “Sorry, I’m not buying the fact that your religion is the reason you seem to have no fear.”

  “I have plenty of fear, Mr. Talley.”

  “Then why not about tonight? I can’t think of anything more frightening than getting up in front of a camera to speak to a million or so people.” Great. Now he was exaggerating viewing numbers.

  She smiled. “You know, one of the best things I ever learned was to never take myself too seriously. That way you’re never embarrassed when you’re made to look like a fool.”

  Maybe that was a homeschool thing, because nobody had ever taught him that.

  “It’s going to be fine tonight. It may not be perfect, but we’ll get through it. I promise.” She smiled, gave him a friendly wink, and said, “And think about getting off that pill. I know you can do it.”

  Hugo led her out the door, went back into his office, closed the door, and tried not to think of his little blue friend.

  Chapter 18

  It was certainly an uncomfortable moment. In the patrol car, Ray sat next to Captain Wynn, whose face looked particularly stern. Ray had never noticed what a forceful profile he had, probably because the captain nearly always faced whichever way the camera was pointed.

  Ray had decided it would be best to talk to the captain in person, to explain the situation…and the favor Ray was asking. He figured there wasn’t any chance that he could work this without groveling, which he assumed would work with personality types like the captain.

  It had. Sort of.

  The captain had agreed to help find Gilda. But what Ray hadn’t counted on was the fact that the captain would be personally involved…like driving his own car to her house and asking Ray to accompany him and Beaker to follow behind in the van. So the question lingering in the air was, “Don’t you understand how busy I am and how much time it takes out of my day to do an interview?”

  Obviously, Ray needed the groveling equivalent to an answer. But sometimes he just wanted to put the captain in his place. The man was so arrogant and in need of so much attention. Ray wanted to tell the captain how obvious it was that he was always looking for a chance to be in the spotlight. He wanted to ask why he had a department spokeswoman if he planned to do all the speaking. He wanted to assure the captain that he was capable of constructing a news story without one of his lame quotes.

  The captain glared at Ray, his brows cutting deep into his bridge of his nose. “Well?”

  “Yes, of course, Captain Wynn,” Ray said. “I apologize.” How many times had he said that? When was it going to be enough?

  The captain focused his attention ahead again. Ray still had no idea why he needed to ride to Gilda’s house with the captain, except maybe to issue another hundred apologies.

  “So,” the captain said, keeping his eyes forward, “this could be a big story.”

  Ray eyed him. Did he know something about Petey Green that Ray didn’t?

  “The more I find out, the more interested I become,” Ray answered. “Know anything of interest about Mr. Green?”

  The captain looked at him. “Green? I’m not talking about that loser. I’m talking abou
t Gilda’s disappearance.”

  “Gilda?”

  “A well-known local newswoman disappears without notice—”

  “We can’t say she’s disappeared. She just hasn’t shown up for work.”

  “And why would she do that?” the captain asked, delight trickling out from underneath his feigned concern.

  “This isn’t a story,” Ray said. “Mr. Talley simply wanted it investigated. We’re worried. I’m sure we’ll get there and find a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

  “You’ve already had someone go to her home to knock. No answer. Got an explanation for that?”

  “Look,” Ray said, “Hugo didn’t send me out here to cover this as a news story.”

  “Then why did he send you?”

  Ray hesitated, and the captain noticed. If he hedged any more, his expression would tell the whole story. “Mr. Talley knows that we have a good professional relationship, and he was hoping to call in a favor.”

  The captain chuckled. “Let’s see what we can find at Ms. Braun’s home.”

  Ray wasn’t sure, but he thought that a burning sensation in both ears meant your blood pressure was on the rise. He didn’t need his ears to tell him. His heart was doing a good job of beating out of control.

  Despite Captain Wynn’s thorough “on-camera” investigation of Gilda’s condo, they found nothing to indicate she had been there recently or was taken against her will. The condo was simply quiet.

  What should’ve taken ten minutes took an hour because of Captain Wynn’s need to be sure he was captured from every angle. It was some sort of weird punishment, Ray could only guess, but the captain insisted it all be “caught on tape.”

  “I think this is going to be big,” he kept saying. Ray tried not to roll his eyes. He just assumed Gilda had gone back for more Botox or a Botox reversal, if there was such a thing. Surely she would turn up.

  The thought crossed his mind that perhaps Petey Green was involved in her disappearance, but that seemed a little far-fetched. Green had been in jail, and why would he mention Gilda’s name if had done something to her?

  He kept quiet and waited for Captain Wynn to finish. They left as quickly as they could.