“I’m gonna try.”
I stood outside Kristin’s office for a few moments, letting it all sink in. He’d duped me. That son of a bitch Carlos had made me feel like we were friends, that he was my cheerleader, when all the while he was snaking my story. I shook my head, cursing myself for falling for it. I heard Carrie’s warning echo in my head and hated that she’d been right all along. Didn’t matter. I shoved it aside and stormed back to my desk, hell-bent on bagging this story.
I was scheduled to meet Essie near the steak house in under an hour, and I needed to grab my belongings and my goofy camera guy and get on the road.
“Everything okay?” Carrie asked. Probably because I’d been slamming things from my desk into my bag without regard for discretion or peace. With each second that passed, my blood boiled hotter. I scanned the newsroom for Carlos, my newest nemesis. He was missing, probably hunting down my story, and as someone who’d worked in this city for longer, he already had plenty of contacts and sources.
I turned to Carrie reluctantly, tail between my legs. “Carlos pitched my story to Kristin.”
She sighed and rolled her lips in. “Of course he did.” She paused. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth, but hopefully you’ll remember this moving forward. Keep the good ones close until the story is yours officially.”
I closed my eyes briefly. The last thing I needed was an I told you so moment, and that’s what this felt like. I wished I could be gracious, accept the wisdom of someone I looked up to. It would have been the humble approach. Instead, I nodded curtly, slung my bag onto my shoulder, and hightailed it out of there.
“You ready, Sky Blue?” Ty asked, turning in his chair as I approached his editing bay.
I ignored the nickname because I didn’t mind it and popped my sunglasses onto my face, ready to take control of this situation and reclaim what was mine. “Let’s ride.”
On the drive over, I seethed and planned. My phone pinged with a message from Kacey. What color is your bra? I need a distraction.
I exhaled slowly. There was no space in my brain. Kacey wanted to extract what she needed in the moment and then flit away again, ignoring everything I’d said just a few nights prior. Annoying.
Not going there with you. Please respect my request. I hit send and stared out the window at the gorgeous day, offering a way too pretty backdrop to the city on a morning that felt fraught.
Yep. Later.
The chilly response hit me harder than I would have predicted, hanging over me like a pesky cloud, but I had to shove it all aside and focus on the day in front of me. There was work to do, and now it was more important than ever.
Ty and I arrived at Harbor Park and set up near the picnic tables in the spot Essie and I had agreed to meet. I took a moment to bask in its beauty overlooking the Bay, the sun’s rays sparkling on the distant water’s surface. The shoreline path would make for such a gorgeous morning walk. I made a note to come back someday and spend more time here. Bask. As we waited, I pored over my questions, rearranging their order in a strategy I hoped would encourage more detailed answers. Always best to warm them up first with some softballs. In the midst, I checked my watch, scanned the surrounding area. She was late.
Ty was mid-handstand next to a tree. He glanced over at it. “Do we look alike?” he called.
“Twins,” I shot back and searched the nearby trail for any sign of a woman who could be Essie. Nothing. Ty then climbed the tree and picked out a nice branch to chill on. “I don’t see your woman, and I got a great view. She message you?”
I checked my phone for the eighty-fourth time. “Nope. I’ll call her.”
But she didn’t pick up. We waited an hour. Ty made friends with the local squirrels, and I wondered if he’d join them and serve as their leader. At the ninety-minute mark, I had to call it, gutted. As we drove back to the station, I grappled with defeat, holding back frustrated tears.
“Hey, don’t sweat it, kid,” Ty said affectionately, though he had to be close to my age. “Maybe she just got her times confused. I do that a lot.”
“No. I think she stood us up on purpose.” I exhaled slowly. “Had a change of heart.” I looked over at him, unkempt strawberry-blond hair bouncing as he bopped his head to the music. “Ever have a day that just absolutely sucks?”
“Only like every Thursday. You gotta buck up on days like that. Go extra hard. Take no prisoners and then smile later with a cold one and maybe a game of pool. You know, if that’s your thing.”
“Not bad advice. Go hard. Have a cold one.”
When I arrived back at the newsroom, it was busier than when I left. The clock was ticking, and as stories fell into place, copy needed to be written for the broadcast. The various producers had their noses down and their fingers typing. The phone lines at the assignment desk rang incessantly, providing a shrill soundtrack as reporters put final touches on whatever they had in the works for the five o’clock.
Devante popped his head up from his workstation. “Skyler, you’re a go on the live shot from that home stabbing, which has since turned into a murder. The victim died an hour ago, and police are still processing the scene. Just messaged you all the details we have so far.”
I nodded, switching gears. “Got it. I’ll take a look and get out there.” Thank God I’d worn my nicest blue pants and jacket combo. The station didn’t provide a clothing allowance to reporters, so it was up to me to make sure I could keep up with my colleagues, and suits weren’t cheap.
Ty and I were on the scene with the live truck operator an hour before the broadcast. I spoke with the public information officer on the scene, the handful of neighbors who’d gathered near the home. I spent the remaining minutes practicing the bumper, which would tease the segment and the lead-in I’d offer live, once the anchors tossed it to me. I’d done these kind of shots a million times, but this one felt more important. Given the nature of the crime and the number of viewers who would tune in, it was.
The IFB in my ear allowed me to hear the audio of the broadcast as well as Kristin’s voice in the booth. “About to toss to you, Skyler,” she said. “Stand by.”
“Ready.”
Caroline’s voice transitioned us. “Unfortunate news on the west side this morning when a mother of two was stabbed to death in her home. We’re going live to Skyler Ruiz for the latest.”
That was my cue, and I looked straight into Ty’s lens. “Thank you, Caroline. I’m in front of the home of thirty-four-year-old Delores Menders, who was stabbed multiple times in what police now believe was a home invasion gone wrong. It’s believed that the perpetrators entered from the rear of the home. The screen was cut and the lock broken.” I paused there for the short narrated package full of B-roll footage to run. When it finished, I nodded at the camera. “From the west side, Skyler Ruiz.”