Scoop (22 page)

Sam sank in his chair. “Sorry, Ray. I’m not buying into your sudden concern for me.”

“Look, Sam, the truth is that I was going to come in and confront you about asking Hayden out. It made me mad. She’s a good and decent person, and she shouldn’t be the object of a competition. I felt like you were asking her out just to get at me, to prove you could win. So you won…fine. Let’s put that aside and—”

“Wait a minute,” Sam said, finishing off the contents of the mug.

“What?”

“What do you mean I won?”

“You asked Hayden out. She’s going out with you this weekend.”

Sam’s unfocused eyes managed to look amused. “I asked her out. But she said she couldn’t.” A sloppy smile spread across Sam’s face. “A few minutes later, I heard her talking to Trent, asking him what he was doing this weekend.”

“You’re lying,” Ray said.

Sam threw up his hands. “Now I’m a drunk and a liar. And I was beginning to think you cared.” Sam stood, cradling the mug in his hands.

“Where are you going?”

“Why do you care?” Sam sneered.

Ray grabbed his arm as he tried to pass. “Sam, you cannot screw this up. You’ve got to…to…de-drunk yourself.”

Sam laughed heartily. “De-drunk. Good one, Ray.” And he stumbled out the door.

H
ugo wasn’t sure why, but a strange and very real calmness swept over his body in waves. Between the waves, he experienced moments of sheer panic, but then the calm would come again. Maybe his Blue Pill was working again, though he couldn’t imagine why, since he knew his level of anxiety this evening was twice what it normally was.

He watched Hayden in the monitor. She looked really good on camera. That engaging grin came through the lens. Her eyes sparkled underneath the lights. They’d been rehearsing like crazy, and now, with only a few minutes until time to go on air, she actually looked relaxed. She studied her script intently, talking a little with Tate, who didn’t look all that uptight either.

It was so hard for Hugo to get his hopes up, though. Sure, he wanted to believe he’d witnessed a minor miracle with Gilda disappearing and Hayden Hazard, of all people, stepping in with near flawlessness. But he just wasn’t sure he had enough faith, because deep in his heart he knew good things hardly ever happened. He’d been in the news business long enough to know that. That’s what made the news a business.

Something about Hayden, though, made him want to believe. Either she was certifiable, or she really believed she could do this. Either way, she made him believe, at least a little, because there she sat in the anchor’s chair. Even her name had an anchor’s ring to it. Hayden Hazard. So, with all the horrible bad luck he’d witnessed in the last forty-eight hours, was it possible that things might turn around for him tonight?

Chad wasn’t happy. He’d called Hugo a lunatic and made it clear that if this didn’t work, Hugo was out of a job. But Chad couldn’t deny that
Hayden had the look they’d been searching for. “Now let’s just hope she doesn’t make us look like idiots,” he’d quipped before returning to his office.

“Yes, let’s hope,” Hugo said aloud, causing a few people to turn to look at him. He ignored them, realizing how much he wished Hayden could also be in the room, standing near the back wall like she normally did, offering words of encouragement.

Suddenly, her voice came crackling through the speaker. “Mr. Talley, how are you doing in there?”

Hugo smiled and leaned into the microphone. “Fine, Hayden. We’re on in about two minutes. You ready?”

“Ready!”

“How about you, Tate?”

“I’m ready too, sir.”

“Okay. Just remember, look for the floor director’s hand signals. We’re going to keep this very simple tonight, but if you get confused he’ll be pointing to the correct camera. He’ll also be giving you the countdown and will be letting you know when it’s time to—”

“Mr. Talley,” Hayden smiled, “you’ve told me this a hundred times.”

Hugo found himself laughing. He didn’t know why. Maybe because this was all so absurd. But now it was time for him to step back and release it all. There was nothing more he could do but watch himself either become a hero or unemployed. He decided to stand against the back wall, where Hayden normally stood.

He could hear the director counting down, and everything seemed to slow to a crawl. Except his mind. Thoughts raced through it like one bullet train after another. It seemed an odd time to be contemplating his life, but there he stood, wondering what exactly he was missing, because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t be happy. Even when good things happened, he was fearful about when it would all go away. He’d never
thought much about his soul or spirit or being or whatever you wanted to call it. But if he honestly thought about it, he pictured it huddled in a dark corner of himself, trembling and wide-eyed.

“On in ten, nine, eight, seven…” Each number Willis announced hung in air, and Hugo felt breathless as he watched the monitors. Hayden’s hands were moving across the stack of papers on the desk, and she wasn’t looking up at the camera.

“Look up, look up!” Hugo whispered.

“…three, two, one, roll intro…”

The News Channel 7 logo appeared with the music. And then it cut to Hayden and Tate. Tate was looking up at the camera, greeting it with his usual smile. Hayden was still looking down at her notes. Hugo clasped his hands together, begging whatever powers that be.

“Good evening. I’m Tate Franklin.”

Hayden paused, looked up a little, then lifted her chin. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Tate glanced at her, worry flashing across his face.

“Come on!” Hugo shouted, causing everyone in the control room to jump.

Then she smiled. “And I’m Hayden Hazard. Thank you for joining us this evening.”

Hugo let out a whimper, but he didn’t care. She’d spoken.

“Tonight, we begin with coverage of the wastewater treatment plant explosion. For that, we go to Jill Clark, who is standing by live at the plant. Jill, what have you learned?” Hayden asked.

Hugo watched Jill give her report. The calmness he’d known just moments before returned. He didn’t even listen to Jill’s report but instead kept his eyes focused on Tate and Hayden.

“Back to you,” Jill said.

“Thank you, Jill,” Hayden said. “We’re glad to hear there weren’t more casualties. It could have been much worse.”

The calmness washed away. Hayden wasn’t sticking to the script. She was given no extra commentary, just the bare bones. But she looked at Tate, indicating he was up, and he went on to his part.

Hugo was afraid he might distract her if he whispered into her IFB, so he just let it go. She’d done a good job so far, though a little stilted. She was warming up fast.

“She’s good,” Willis said.

Hugo nodded. Something told him this was going to be a very, very good newscast.

“Sam? Sam!” Ray had gone looking for Sam after a grip had remarked that the weatherman had taken off his microphone and disappeared a few minutes into the newscast. Ray’s segment was to air right before the weather, so he knew they both had at least ten minutes.

He’d been watching Hayden, who was doing amazingly well for her first time in front of the camera. The mistakes she made were minor, and Tate had been able to cover for her. They seemed to be working well as a team.

Now, though, Sam had the potential to undo the entire newscast. Ray had elected not to tell Hugo about Sam, because when he’d found Sam a couple of hours after their initial meeting, he seemed to be coming off his buzz.

Ray hadn’t been able to get over the enormous disappointment he felt knowing that not only had Hayden turned him down for a date, but that she’d actually asked Trent out. Trent, of all people? It had ruined his entire night, and he was having a hard time caring about anything but himself.

But now, realizing they might not have a weather segment and thus, ten minutes to fill, Ray knew he was going to have to do something—and quick.

Although he looked everywhere, including the men’s room, he came up empty. What were they going to do? The assistant director was heading for Ray, his arms thrown up. “Were four minutes until commercial!” he ranted. “Where is he?”

Ray sighed. “I don’t know. I can’t find him.”

“I’m going to have to tell Mr. Talley.” He rushed off. Ray just stood there, almost feeling paralyzed. Then he heard something. It sounded like an animal dying.

He turned, trying to identify the sound’s location. He stood very still, and then he heard it again. It was right next to him. He looked…and it was coming from the women’s room.

Without thinking of the potential embarrassing fallout, Ray pushed open the door and rushed in. Under the third stall’s door he could see two feet, obviously belonging to a man.

“Sam?”

A moan answered.

Ray pushed open the door and found Sam in the stall, leaning against one of the walls, holding his stomach and looking pasty, his chin shiny with drool.

“Sam? Are you okay?”

Sam shook his head, hardly able to open his
eyes.

Ray grabbed his shoulders. “Sam, you’re on in eight minutes!”

Sam opened his
eyes.
“I am?”

“Yes!”

“I thought I had more time…” He groaned.

“Sam, you’ve got to snap out of it.”

“No, I’m fine,” he said, waving his hand and attempting to smile. “I just need a little more time.”

“You don’t have time!” Ray said. “You’ve got to get your mike on, and…” He watched as Sam nodded and then closed his eyes like he was going to fall asleep standing up. “Stay here!”

Ray rushed out of the bathroom and around the corner to the supply closet. He grabbed the first-aid kit and headed back for the bathroom. He saw Hugo emerging from the control room, looking shocked as the assistant director was trying to explain the problem.

Ray nearly plowed down the door as he went back in. Tearing into the box, he found the smelling salts. He cracked a package open and went back to Sam, shoving his hand under Sam’s nose.

“Oh!” Sam shrieked, his eyes flying open. But Ray put an arm against Sam’s chest, holding him against the stall wall as he pushed the smelling salts under his nose again. Sam struggled. His face lit up as if he were being electrocuted. Coherent enough to know he was being held against the wall, Sam fought off Ray’s arms. Ray backed out of the stall and watched Sam shake his head. “Ah!” Sam complained.

“Sam, look at me,” Ray demanded.

Sam blinked, then turned to Ray. “What?”

“You’re on in six minutes. I’m on in about four minutes. We have to go.” Sam’s eyes widened. The panicked look on Sam’s face was a good thing.

Sam tore out of the stall and toward the bathroom door. Ray followed. As they rounded the corner out of the bathroom, they ran into Hugo.

“What are you two doing?” Hugo shouted. His face looked like a giant red blister. It seemed apparent that Hugo noticed the men had been in the women’s room.

“Sam was sick,” Ray said. “But he’s going to make it through the broadcast. Aren’t you, Sam?”

Hugo looked at Sam, who nodded. “I gotta get my…my thingy on…” Sam ran past Hugo. Hugo turned to watch him, then looked at Ray.

“Me too,” Ray said, and hurried toward the spot in the newsroom they’d chosen for his backdrop. Ray ran the microphone up his shirt,
clipped it on, and positioned himself to look casual as he leaned against the desk.

He’d been dreading this all day. His only option was to put together a touchy-feely piece, and now he was going to have to sit here and do a serious pitch for it. Viewers would love it, there was no doubt about that. They couldn’t resist blow-by-blow accounts. But inside, Ray felt more disappointment than he could describe because, deep in his gut, he knew he didn’t have the whole story.

They came out of commercial, and Ray could see Hayden at the news desk. “Tonight, sad news from the northeast side of town. A baby has been found dead…” Ray watched as Hayden paused and looked down at her notes. Tate looked like he didn’t know what to do. Hayden looked back up at the camera. “Boy, this is a tough one.” Her voice sounded like she might start crying. “A baby was found dead near the railroad tracks, and police believe the mother gave birth and then abandoned the baby, who…perished from exposure.” Hayden looked down again then back up at the camera. Her eyes were shiny with tears. “It just seems like a hopeless time, doesn’t it?” she asked. Tate looked like he didn’t know whether or not to answer. Hayden smiled into the camera suddenly. “But it’s not. There is good. And it will overcome.” She looked at Tate, whose wide eyes managed to read the TelePrompTer.

“And now to our own Ray Duffey, who is recovering from quite an incident two days ago.”

The red light on top of his camera came on, and it took everything in Ray to calm himself enough to look natural in front of the camera. He shoved thoughts of Sam, Hayden, and even his corny report out of his mind and drew upon his years of experience to get him through.

“It all started with a report on a backyard pigsty…”