by A. R. Licht
“When you were first starting out, did you struggle with sensationalizing people’s tragedies?”
“What sort of inflammatory question is that?” Sienna sniffed.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, I was just wondering how you felt about it. How I should feel about it.”
“It’s a job. You get it done. The end. Oh, try this lipstick, it’ll look great tonight.” Sienna dug in her bag and tossed a silver tube that Kate caught one-handed.
She opened the tube and swiveled the product above the base, rubbing it into her lips. She pressed her lips together, using her cell phone camera as a mirror. “Its very red.”
“That’s the point, you want the sex appeal. Trust me.”
“Thanks,” Kate said, tossing it back to Sienna.
“It’s yours, keep it.”
Sienna tossed it back and Kate tucked it in her pocket.
The first half of the broadcast, Kate spent in front of the hospital where the garish glow of the flood lights illuminated the brick and emphasized the broken-out windows. She talked about two of the mothers whose babies were in the nursery when they’d died. Legacy Precciado’s story was more sad because she’d lost her fiancé in the Iraq war, and the young woman had been left on her own to deal with the baby that she hadn’t told her own parents about. She’d named the girl Summer for the one beautiful summer she and her fiancé had had together.
Story Fairweather was all alone in the world, and she talked about her desire to keep little May with her even when the nurse insisted on taking her back to the nursery.
She introduced the footage of the interviews, and then moved over to the donation tables which had grown in number since the first night. She stood in front of the signs, and when it was time for her to continue speaking, she urged those able to please donate to help those who had lost their loved ones to be able to bury them with the extravagance such precious lives deserved. For those who’d lost breadwinners, this would help them to pay their bills. Any amount would do, even only a dollar.
Finally, she ended the broadcast by bringing in a police officer and asking his opinion on why the killers chose such a horrific way to take away these beautiful lives that hadn’t even had a chance to begin living.
“We feel that with the difficulty to obtain ammunition for their guns, these murderers turned to explosive devices to obtain maximum effect. These boys wanted to be infamous, and they will be. Infamous for being a child killer.”
“Thank you, Officer Lewis. Join us tomorrow night when we delve into the dark lives of the killers, and what led up to the moment they decided to commit what some have deemed an act of terror. Back to you, Pat.”
She felt numb, laying in the bathtub, the water lukewarm. She had the first half of the day off tomorrow to research, interview, and dig up as much dirt on the teens as possible. But, tonight, she longed for a big glass of wine and a man to take her mind off things. She’d briefly considered inviting Waylon over, but she knew it’d be a mistake. She settled instead for a bath and an audiobook, but it wasn’t cutting it. She wanted music, laughter. Wine.
She toweled dried off as the tub drained, found a pair of black leggings and a sparkly tank top. She paired it with a soft sweater and tennis shoes.
She walked two blocks to the Blue Cantina, a happening tavern advertising a live band and happy hour deals. It brought her back to college, and the days she spent partying with friends.
The atmosphere is smokey and warm. She saw several people her age spread out in the corner of the room at tables and booths. One couple is playing at one of the two pool tables, and a number of single men are drinking at the bar. She smelled burgers, fries, fish sticks. Grease hung on the air, along with the yeasty scent of beer. A large TV on the back wall showed a football game in half-time. The music blaring on the speakers is country, not exactly her favorite, but it would do.
She ordered a drink at the counter and sat at a table near the group, listening to them banter and giggle as she waited for her drink to arrive. She didn’t realize Waylon had sat across from her until he said, “Well, Missus I’m still in love with my best friend, I didn’t know you enjoyed the bar scene.”
She laughed lightly, “Takes me back to my college days.”
“Way back, huh. Ages ago.”
“If you were sitting closer I’d punch you.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“No.”
“So, what are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” Kate said, amused.
“I followed you.”
“Stalker.”
“No, I was getting a soda from the machine and saw you wandering off. I just wanted to see where you were going. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Nah, I wanted company.”
They listened to the music for a beat, then Waylon said, “So, tell me about yourself.”
Kate laughed, “Well, when you put me on the spot like that, where does one start?”
“Where did you grow up?”
“Essex.”
“In England?”
“No, silly. Maryland. My mom was born and raised there and when my parents got married they moved back. She always thought it was a good place to raise kids.”
“Was she right?”
“Times change, but yeah, I can’t complain.”
“So, you still choose to live there.”
“Yeah, I mean, my whole family is there. My sister is pregnant with her first baby. I think that’s why this whole thing has been so hard on me. I keep picturing her in that hospital.”
“You can’t do that, you have to disconnect yourself from what’s going on.”
“So they keep telling me.”
“Its true. So how far along is your sister?”
“Seven and half months.”
“Is she married?”
“You really want to be part of my family, don’t you?”
Waylon laughed, and it was attractive. Just then her wine glass was delivered. The waitress took Waylon’s order and rushed away.
“No, I was just asking to see if she was raising the baby on her own.”
Kate took a long grateful drink and set the glass down, enjoying the way the amber liquid caught the ambient light making it seem to glow. “She’s married. To a lawyer.”
“You don’t approve.”
Kate shook her head, “Oh no, I like him. He’s been really good to her. He fits in with our family pretty well.”
“You don’t like that he is a lawyer, then?”
“No, that’s good too. He makes good money, they have a nice house. It’s just...” How does someone say that she is sad that her sister is stuck at home all of the time when she knows her sister had big dreams of traveling and starting her own business?
“Your drink, sir.” The waitress brought a Long Island Iced-Tea and a second glass of wine for Kate.
“Oh, I didn’t order this,“ Kate said, still nursing the first glass.
“That man over there did,” the cocktail waitress said, pointing at a man at the counter. His body turned toward them, he is wearing a black cowboy hat over his boyish features. He smiled and waved.
He looked familiar to Kate, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen him before. She weighed her options, feeling safe because Waylon was there.
“Thanks,” she said, accepting the drink.
As she’d guessed, the man began weaving through the tables to their booth. Waylon looked put-out and she quickly said, “Please stay. I want to see what he wants.”
“I saw you on TV,” the man said, sliding in next to her.
That was something she wasn’t sure she’d get used to hearing. “Well, thank you for watching my network.”
“You’re covering that ‘Massacre at the Children’s Hospital’ bit, right?”
“It’s a women’s health hospital, but yes, I am.”
“Who’s he?” the man gestured to Waylon.
“That’s my friend.”
<
br /> “Ah.”
“What’s your name? I didn’t catch it?” Kate said.
“Oh, sorry. I’m Tyler. I knew Cody.”
Kate’s heart fluttered. What luck! Maybe Ann was right to think she had a knack for this. She tried to downplay it, she didn’t want him to think she was excited to exploit him. “Cody?”
“Yeah. The sixteen-year-old that killed those people?”
“You mean the killer who shot up women and babies, throwing grenades at them for fun?” Kate said.
“Well, he wasn’t like that just a few days ago,” Tyler said, taken aback.
“How would you know?” Kate said, skeptical.
“Because we were...”
“Gay?” Waylon said.
Kate blushed, embarrassed at Waylon’s lack of tact.
Tyler looked around, suddenly nervous that someone might have heard him. “Off the record.”
“Okay,” Kate said.
“I’m not gay, it wasn’t like that. We were sort of friends but Cody said no one could know about us. I was hurt by it but now I know why.”
“Why?"
“Because of Travis.”
Chapter 7
Alkin, North Carolina- April 8th
Kate stood under the eves of the front stoop of the Cooper home. The home of a typical American family with its white clapboard siding and hunter-green shutters. A light spring rain had begun to fall, the drizzle threatening to frizz out her hair, probably the only water the lawn has received in days. Someone had attempted to line the sidewalk with large river rocks and plants that had become nothing more than blackened sticks.
She knocked again, half expecting Cody’s parents to back out of the interview. Movement in the
large rectangular window on the right caught her eye, then the door opened with a squeal.
“Hi, Mr. Cooper?” Kate said, motioning for her crew in the van to join her.
“Yes?”
“I’m Kate Miller from American News Broadcasting. I had talked to Mrs. Cooper about sitting
down for an interview over the phone.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Come on in. I just didn’t see your camera man with you, I wasn’t sure you
were the person we were waiting for.”
“I can understand that,” Kate said, looking around the small living room.
She avoided the stairs leading up to the second floor, which are located directly across from the front door, and leaned up against the arm of the tan sofa while Peter Cooper closed the door and edged around her.
“Please, have a seat. Sal will be down in a moment. Can I offer you three anything to drink?”
Kate and Ann settled on the tan sofa while Waylon scanned the small room for the best angle.
“No, thank you,” Kate said.
Against the wall of the front door is a window with louvered blinds. An outdated television
blocked the view, the small glass and black paneled council it sat on cluttered with plants,
movies, and electronics. To the right of the TV is a life-sized black panther sculpture in a sitting
position. Directly across from the sofa is an oval coffee table and beyond that an old brick
fireplace, the mantle full of family photos and knick knacks. On the right of the tan sofa is a red
leather chair draped with a black and white animal print blanket. A few framed prints behind glass adorned the walls.
Kate stood, moving over to the fireplace, noticing that there were photos of Cody hung on the
wall of the stairs in a diagonal. She pointed to the sofa, then to the photos and Waylon nodded.
Ann moved over to the chair just as Sally Cooper came down the stairs.
“Hello, Sally,” Kate said, extending her hand.
Sally shook hands, then sat on the sofa. “I hope you’re not here to crucify us.”
Her husband joined her on the sofa, giving her hand a light squeeze.
“Of course not, ma’am. We understand that you are enduring a loss too, that he was your
baby. Our goal here is to show Cody as the innocent in all of this,” Kate said.
Sally looked perplexed, “Well you’d be the first.”
“I spoke with someone at length last night, Mrs. Cooper. A friend of Cody’s."
“Cody didn’t have friends. Travis was the only one,” Peter said, looking between Kate and his
wife.
“It appears that he did, Mr. Cooper. Someone Cody had to keep a secret,” Kate said gently.
Waylon moved slightly toward the panther statue and motioned for the parents to move closer
together and they complied.
“Who?” Sally asked with apprehension.
“A source of mine that wishes to remain anonymous. He is willing to help your son’s case.”
The couple exchanged glances, Kate got the sense that they didn’t like that Cody had a friend
they weren’t aware of, but what she couldn’t understand was why? If it made Cody look better to
the world, wouldn’t that be something they would be excited about?
“I think you should tell us who this friend is,” Sally said, her teeth clenched, her smile forced.
Ann, who had been taking notes moved forward, “Kate, I think you should change the subject.
Obviously you are upsetting Mr. and Mrs. Cooper. That's not why we are here.”
Kate nodded, “I apologize for upsetting you both. It wasn’t my intention, rather I had hoped it
would prove that I truly intended to share your son’s life in a good light.”
Sally seemed to calm down, Peter soothed that his wife wasn’t as upset.
“May we get to the interview?” Kate said with a respectful tone.
“Of course,” Sally said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Cooper. I’d like to ask what a typical morning in the Cooper home is like.”
Peter became animated as he talked, like he was looking back on the good times. “On school
days, Sal would get him up because he often slept through his alarm. I’d make breakfast and th-“
“Please excuse my interruption, what sort of breakfast?” Kate said.
“Oh, things like pancakes and french toast. Sometimes he liked scrambled eggs.”
“Did he enjoy school?” Kate coaxed.
Sally picked up, “There were days he absolutely loved school. He’d rush home yelling,
‘Momma! Momma! Look what we learned today,’ then he’d show me pictures of the Titanic
in his history book.”
“He had hard days as well?” Kate said.
“Yes,” Sally said, “There were times he’d be so depressed. The kids at school were picking on
him again. He had a rough time with that. He said he couldn’t understand why kids thought he
was someone to pick on.”
“Did he ever feel angry about it?” Kate asked.
“No. I don’t think so. He would just shrug and go to his room where he liked to do his homework
and read quietly,” Peter said.
Sally nodded, “It was rare when I saw him get mad. The one time I really remember was when a
cat had been hit in the street and as he was walking out to save it -it was still alive then- some guy driving a truck revved the engine and ran over the cat, killing it. That truck could have hit Cody! He was so upset, he wanted to call the police and tell them.”
“Did he ever threaten to kill the man who did it?” Kate asked, hoping they would understand this
question was there to show that Cody wasn’t prone to threatening someone’s life.
Peter looked upset, “No, what sort of question is that?” But as the words came out, they faded. It
was as though it had been all too easy to forget what his son had been a part of.
“Did he ever threaten the lives of his school mates?” Kate said.
“No!” Sally answered.
Kate changed tactics, “Did
your son make many friends in his sixteen years?”
Sally opened her mouth, then snapped it shut and looked at her lap. Peter squeezed her hand
again, looking pained.
“Our son,” Peter said, “kept to himself a lot. No, he didn’t make friends, but he did treat people
well and that was what mattered to us.”
“What caused Cody to keep to himself, Mr. Cooper?” Kate said, remembering not to sound as