Victim's, Inc.

by A. R. Licht

  Kate noticed the ombre haired woman sitting alone going over notes. She recognized her from yesterday but still didn’t know her name.

  "Hi, is this seat taken?" Kate said, indicating a chair next to the woman.

  "Not yet," the woman said, setting her notes aside.

  Kate sat next to her, "Kate."

  "Sienna," she said, shaking her hand.

  "Wait, not the Sienna? Like Sienna Mathers from CNL, the number-one rated news network in the country?"

  "That’d be me. It’s the hair isn’t it? That’s why you don’t recognize me?"

  "Frankly, yes. I thought you had blonde hair."

  "I did, I was more subtle with my makeup. I guess that’s the fun of going dark, you can be more dramatic."

  "The hair suits you."

  "Thanks. You look great, a fashionista after my own heart."

  Kate laughed, "I wish I had your wardrobe."

  "That comes with the job, being number one has its perks."

  "This is my first time covering a national story," Kate admitted.

  Sienna laughed, "I could tell. You’re as green as they come. But, don’t worry, we all start somewhere. How are you liking your job so far?"

  "It’s mixed. I love the adventure, the excitement, the travel. But, this story is really getting me down."

  "It will do that to you, tug at your heartstrings... You just have to learn to compartmentalize. Get through the job, then when you’re home you can fall apart a little before moving on to the next gig."

  "Yeah."

  "It’s addicting though, isn’t it? That adrenaline rush. That’s what gets me out of bed in the morning."

  "I think that’s the only thing that’s keeping me going right now."

  "I saw your interview yesterday. Nice job. You stole him out from under all of us with that move."

  "Who? Terry?"

  "Yes, Terry. You could have gotten yourself booted. I think we were all secretly hoping you would be."

  "I wasn’t thinking, I just acted. Then I realized that could have been it for me," Kate said.

  "Well it worked out that time, good for you."

  "Is it always like this? So well organized?"

  "Sometimes. Just be glad you got lucky for your first. Each one is different, you know?"

  Chapter 5

  Alkin, North Carolina - April 7th

  Ann dropped a box full of files on the hotel bed. "I just got off the phone with Jack. He’s on board with the whole living next to a killer thing, but he thinks we should cover all of the medical staff that stand out at the noon broadcast, and then the patients that are special, tonight."

  "That’s a lot of work!" Kate protested.

  "Get used to it honey, dig in. I’ve got files on everyone."

  Waylon leaned back in the chair and promptly fell asleep as they got to work.

  "Where’d you get all of this?"

  "Perks of being higher up, I get to set an intern loose on the internet to dig up everything they can, then they print it off and send it to me."

  Kate picked a file, checking it against the victims list, and rifled through it. Justine Plunkett, the receptionist. She is a sixty-two year old Welsh woman who was known for bringing in hand-crafted gifts for all of the newborns that are born in the hospital.

  Kate picks up another, this one for the Janitor, Stephan Stein. Fifty-six years old, overweight. Quiet, kept to himself. Never complained. He often joked that cleaning the windows in the daycare center was like trying to keep a urinal in a tavern clean on a busy night, which was his second job.

  "Where did your people come up with this stuff?"

  "Hmmm?"

  Kate held up the single piece of paper in Stephan’s file, "The information on the janitor. Where did they get their info?"

  "From the internet."

  Ann seemed distracted with something on her phone, so Kate picked up another file. Stan Wingfield. Seventy-four years old, all white hair, enormous white teeth.

  "Ann."

  "Yes?"

  "Listen to this one. It reads like a character bio. 'Stan Wingfield, Administrator. Jokester. Loved to tease. Complimented the ladies every day. Always came to work with a smile. I’ll bet he’s grinning even now knowing that he is remembered for bringing light to the world and making people’s day better just for having known him. What a great guy who truly cared about his staff. Heavily involved in the running of the hospital. He even overlooked a bill for one mother who couldn’t pay.' Doesn't that sound odd to you?"

  Ann stood up and came around to the box. She picked a file at random and read out loud, "Renee Lockette, Nurse. Forty-one years old, tall. Going through a divorce. Does everything she can to provide her patients with the best care while she relies on Vicodin to get her through the stress of working with an all-women team."

  Ann fell silent, staring at the file. She flipped the paper over, flipped it back. "Is this a joke?"

  "That’s what I’ve been trying to ask you," Kate said.

  Ann dialed a number and asked to speak to the intern who’d sent over the files. "What are you trying to pull here? I asked for hard facts, real information. You sent me jokes." After a pause, "Okay, where did you pull them from? Really? Uh huh. Text it to me. Yes, right now!"

  She hung up without saying good-bye. Seconds later her phone chirped and she clicked it. Kate watched over her shoulder as a tribute site popped up on the screen. On it, someone had taken the time to write up bios for each of the victims.

  "This is where they got it?" Kate said.

  "That’s what they said. Some of the victims don’t have an online presence, so they borrowed from this site."

  "What site is this?"

  Ann scrolled down, "Oh, it’s the one you plugged last night. It has a link to leave a donation."

  "So they must have interviewed the families to get these little blurbs about each person. Interesting."

  "Maybe, maybe not. They might have known them personally," Ann said.

  Kate shook her head, "Everyone has an online presence nowadays. Its rare someone doesn’t have one."

  "Well, why don’t you try looking?"

  Kate pulled out the rest of the files of the medical staff and opened all of them, spreading them out on the floor. There were eleven total. Of those eleven, five had real life-stories. Over half of them had only one sheet of paper with a bio on it that had been taken from the donation site.

  She paused when she read Julia Bembenek’s bio. Then she handed it to Ann, who said, "Just read it to me."

  "Doctor Julia Bembenek, forty years old, green/blue eyes, model body. In the middle of a cesarean section on patient Joleen Berkus being performed (because the unborn fetus was very large, a condition known as macrosomia which occurs in diabetic mothers), was bent over the open womb when the shooter came into the operating room. Doctor Julia (as everyone called her) yelled at him to leave now, even after seeing the gun in his hand she held her ground. When he did not leave, when instead he raised the weapon, she crossed the room and attacked him. He shot her, a stray bullet hitting Joleen in the neck causing her to quickly bleed out. The unborn fetus died by suffocation. Doctor Julia was a strong, remarkable woman."

  There was a beat before Ann said, "Let me look at that."

  "That was written as though they were there. Like they saw the whole thing happen. Is there another survivor we don’t know about? How would someone know those details?"

  "Forensics."

  "No way. They wouldn’t know she yelled for him to leave, or that she attacked him."

  Ann looked away, seemed preoccupied. Finally she said, "Just look online for yourself. You can’t trust an intern to do your job for you. That isn’t good journalism."

  Kate spent the rest of the morning pouring over websites, trying to find information on the victims. Finally she picked two that she could talk about before sharing the interview of Patty O’Neil’s boyfriend. She picked Mikaela Mink, a nursery worker, because she had a great Facebook
page she could direct people to with a link to the donation site. Mikaela was a beautiful, athletic girl with dreams of attending Yale in the fall. Her professional sports path had been cut short the fateful day she went to work. Kate felt that Mikaela was truly a brilliant girl with a bright future and she could see her story coming across to viewers well.

  The mid-wife, Alma Tredegar intrigued Kate. Someone had written on her tribute page that she was gracious, calm, and serene. She loved to garden and baked fresh tortillas in the mornings. Alma was well-known for bringing tamales in to work to share at lunchtime. Alma had been described as elegant and lovely by her friends, and that she always had a good word to say about everyone and that she loved her patients and they loved her. She was the sort of woman Kate's mom would have been friends with. She stared at the beautiful photo of Alma, her smile reaching her eyes.

  "I think we are missing someone," Kate said.

  "Who?" Ann said around a mouthful of food.

  "Remember the police officer who got shot?"

  "Oh, right. I forgot about him. Why don’t you take Waylon with you?"

  Waylon was the one in a grouchy mood this time, as they drove through the streets of Alkin to the Surrey County Hospital where Officer Dan Pinchot had been taken for treatment. But, the information clerk was confused, "We have no record of a Dan Pinchot here."

  Ann answered on the first ring, and Kate explained that Dan was no longer at the hospital. Ann dug up his home address and texted it to Waylon.

  They drove along Alkin Creek most of the way, passing Stone Mountain State Park.

  "Its absolutely beautiful out here," Kate remarked.

  Waylon grunted a reply.

  Brenda, Dan’s wife, was kind enough to allow them to come up to their bedroom. Waylon filmed the flowers and cards that surrounded the officer, and Kate shook his hand.

  "It is an honor to meet you, sir. We thank you for your service," Kate said, sitting in the chair he gestured to with his unhurt arm.

  "You fine people have been interviewing me all day long, I’m not sure I’ve had my fill yet."

  It took Kate a moment to realize he was making a joke. It was Brenda’s face that gave it away.

  "Well, I assure you, we’ll keep going until you are tired of us."

  "You can say that again," Dan said and laughed heartily, "I like a reporter with a sense of humor."

  "It’s good to see you’ve kept yours through this whole ordeal," Kate countered.

  "It hasn’t been easy. But, my wife keeps me in line."

  "Your beautiful wife is amazing."

  "You’re right. She is."

  "Could I ask how it happened?"

  "What? Meeting my wife?"

  "Getting shot."

  "Oh, of course. Well, we pulled up. My cruiser was the first to respond and my partner and I got out thinking we would walk right in the front door like we owned the place. But then shots rang out and my partner was the one who noticed the blood trickling down my arm. He got me out of there, took me to safety. If it weren’t for him, I’m not sure I’d be alive right now."

  Kate thought the man sounded like he was reading from a script, but then again, if he’d been interviewed so many times throughout the day, anyone would be exhausted and sound like that.

  "Did it leave any lasting consequences?"

  "The bullet entered my left arm, fractured the bone, and left by grazing my ribs. They had to set my bone in this arm. My ribs are going to be sore for a long time. That bullet gouged out part of one rib, so now theres a permanent dent."

  "You are truly lucky."

  "I am."

  She wrapped up the interview, thanked them both for their time and wished them well.

  "Oh, wait," Dan said, "Can you tell the public about the donation site the department set up for me? It will help pay for all of my medical bills so the taxpayers won’t have to."

  "Of course, I can do that," Kate said.

  Brenda handed her a square of paper with the site address written in pencil on it.

  "Thanks a million!" Dan said, smiling and waving.

  Kate watched Waylon and Ann dissect the footage from the morning hours and piece them beautifully together. Ann really has a flair for the dramatics, she should have been an editor for movies.

  The afternoon broadcast goes smoothly, and Ann allows Kate take a break before they have to dive into the patients. Kate is grateful for the reprieve, this is going to be the worst part yet for her.

  Chapter 6

  Alkin, North Carolina - April 7th

  Ann is sifting through the four interviews that Kate had somehow managed to pull off. It had taken a lot of leg work, but she managed to get in touch with a number of family members and friends of the victims. All of them had been receptive and willing to meet up. It amazed Kate just how well this first job was going, how easy much of it had been.

  “I can’t reiterate enough to you that it isn’t always this easy to get so many interviews when you are just starting out. Hell, not even when you’ve been doing it a long time like me. You’ve been very lucky, Kate. Either that, or you have a knack for it. Very lucky. This is going to boost your career you know.”

  Kate wasn’t listening, but she was making the right sounds, and now she realized that Ann was saying something that she wanted a response to. She didn’t know what to say so she said, “Yeah?”

  “You need to expand your vocabulary, and not all of the things you learned in broadcasting and journalism school are accurate. But you’ll get that down over time.”

  Kate smiled in gratitude, surprised to hear such kinds words of encouragement from the one woman who’d looked at her with great distaste a week ago when they’d first met in Baltimore and had been paired.

  “One thing you do that you should fix is the inflection of your voice when you are trying to draw the eyewitness out,” Ann said, rewinding a scene from an hour ago and replaying it.

  Onscreen, Kate had asked, “What do you remember most about little Shelly Bloom?” She was referring to one of the children in the day care center who’d been killed at the hospital.

  “See how your tone sounds sympathetic?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not going to draw them out with pity. They’ll read it as false, and so will the viewers at home. Next time, try asking it with excitement. That will make them think positive thoughts and you’ll get better ratings.”

  “Thanks for the pointer, I’ll remember that.”

  “Sure. Why don’t you go get some dinner from the tent while I finish this up? We have fifteen minutes until we’re live,” Ann said, moving on with the footage.

  Kate set down the leaflet of papers she’d been reading through about grenades, and the different kinds that were used in the hospital. There had been the initial flash-bang that confused everyone in the lobby, and then the incendiaries used in the nursery and day care. That was really terrible, and she really didn’t have much of an appetite after reading about it.

  Upstairs, the teens had used hand grenades that fragmented as they exploded. She shuddered to think of what the crime scene investigators were looking at now while she selected a tuna salad sandwich and an Arizona Iced-Tea. Sienna was sitting at a table with her laptop, typing furiously. Kate didn’t want to bother her so she sat at the little table right next to her.

  “Tuna salad. I wouldn’t eat that if I were you,” Sienna said, not taking her eyes off the screen.

  Kate looked down at the half in her hand she’d intended to bite into. “Why not?”

  “Its been sitting out for a few hours. Go get a turkey.”

  “I’m vegetarian.”

  “Oh, well, good for you.”

  “Where do you think those boys got the grenades from?” Kate said, biting into the sandwich anyway.

  Sienna shrugged, “Who knows? Maybe an army surplus store?”

  “But, aren’t the grenades they used, illegal?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far.”

 
; “Oh.”

  “Hey, chin up. You remind me a lot of me when I was just starting out, you know. It’ll get better. You’ll learn not to search too deep for meaning, but give the appearance of great depth of thought. Study the poets and glean from them. You’ll catch on.”

  Kate felt relieved to hear more than once that someone else thought she would make it. She had been questioning her career choice these past two days, unsure if this was something she would truly love.