Tomorrow was a new day. A clean slate. A small smile made its way onto my lips as I switched off my desk lamp and grabbed my bag. “’Night, guys,” I said to the two assistants behind the assignment desk. I might have hummed a little tune as I made my way to the parking lot. Two thoughts. First, the tide felt like it just might be changing. Next, Caroline McNamara was a definite enigma. Call it the reporter in me, but when it came to her, I wanted to find out more.
Chapter Five
I was the moose, dammit. At long last!
Caroline’s guy at the sheriff’s office was not only talkative but got me a moment on camera with Sheriff Denison himself, who—of course—downplayed any rift with the commissioner but confirmed she’d denied his cruiser request and that Kendall’s had picked up the tab. All on the record. Having his face as part of my story anchored the narrative and gave it credibility. After several well-thought-out voice mails to Essie, she also agreed to meet with me, going on camera with how much Kendall’s owner hated the commissioner and why. The story took off from there. The more I established on record, the more other people with information were willing to contribute to the piece.
“Gotta hand it to you. This is good stuff,” Kristin said, shaking her head after watching the finished package in the editing bay. “A note. Cut the last sentence of the sound bite from Essie. Tighter that way, and keeps the focus narrow. But overall, you guys killed it.”
I looked back at Ty and grinned. “Thanks. We can do that. What about Carlos?”
She shrugged. “Couldn’t get a comment from either side officially, so the story’s yours. We’ll run it at both five and ten tonight.”
I shot a fist in the air, feeling like I’d finally hit a home run. Once Kristin headed back to the office, Ty and I celebrated the only way two people should, with a silent victory dance in front of the monitor frozen on the sheriff’s frowning face. “One down, a zillion more to go. You might be a news shark in rookie’s clothing,” Ty said, offering me a final fist bump as I left him to finish up those edits Kristin asked for. “Go Sky Blue, go!”
“I see your story’s on for tonight,” Carrie said later that afternoon while she applied a final coat of lipstick before going on air. I tried not to stare. Her hair seemed softer today, sporting a natural wave. My mouth went dry, and I stared at my desk a moment to shake free of the not unpleasant sensation the image brought on. It was like every time she entered a room, she dared me to notice her a little bit more. Oh, I did.
I smothered a smile. “That’s right. It all worked out.”
“Congratulations.”
“Well, if it wasn’t for your guy, I’m not sure any of it would have happened. I owe you a drink. A box of doughnuts. A car.”
She pointed at me and stood on her way to the studio. “Holding you to the first one. I like free drinks.”
How did such an innocuous comment make my whole body go numb and tingly and back again. I nodded, words failing. I watched her walk away because I had to. When Caroline McNamara was in a room, that room was charged. Unlike any other. I spent the rest of the night, even the part when they sent me on a live shot from the Laundromat on strike for the ten o’clock, smiling from ear to ear. When I said, “Back to you, Caroline,” my spidey sense flared. I felt like something important was about to happen to me.
And I was scared but more than a little bit ready.
* * *
The weekend came at long last, and I rejoiced. The week had just about done me in. I slept a little longer, snuggled Mr. Micky, and then clipped him into his leash to visit Sarah.
“You’re too skinny. You need food.” She shoved a plate of chocolate, fruit, and cheese closer to where I sat along her kitchen counter on that cheerful Saturday.
“I do not,” I told her. “The camera isn’t kind.”
“You are being ridiculous. Eat. Have you heard from Aunt Carla this week?”
I shook my head at her mention of my mother. “She’s off being a superlawyer in LA.”
“She’s ridiculously proud of you.”
I nodded. “She said so last we spoke, but that was literally a six-minute conversation. She’s always on the go.”
I watched the smile slide off Sarah’s face before she thought enough to replace it. She knew my mother didn’t always come through on the warm and fuzzies. But that’s why I had her and Yolanda. They’d been there when she wasn’t able to be. School events, holidays when she didn’t make it back into town quite in time.
“Well, I’ll tell you who else says you’re killing it. Kristin. Well, Lucy said Kristin said that. And Emory told me. Follow?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I’m definitely not the superstar in the newsroom, but I no longer feel like I need to run screaming for the countryside again. I might be able to hold my own with these people.” I popped a chocolate-drizzled banana slice.
Sarah frowned. “You’re selling yourself short again, Sky-Sky. I know you, and you are capable of so much more than holding your own.”
“That means a lot, coming from you.” I paused. “I’m not sure you know how much I look up to you, Sar. Always have. When I was a kid, I obsessively copied your hairstyles.”
“The hair part I knew. Even the unfortunate bangs. I apologize for that one.”
“Was hoping you might.”
“Hey, since I have a moment with you, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Sarah said, pouring me a glass of amazing-looking strawberry lemonade, which I was pretty sure she’d made from scratch.
“Okay. Everything all right? Do I need to sit down again?” I was smiling, joking with her as we so often did.
She slid her hands out flat across the white granite countertop, her gaze falling to the gray pattern. “I hope so.” She looked up with a careful smile. “The thing is, Emory is sick.” I paused my glass on its way to my mouth. Sarah’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“What? No.” My stomach plummeted, and my limbs went warm as I waited for more information.
“She found a lump in her breast, and a biopsy has confirmed it’s cancer.”
I didn’t know what to say. Emory Owen was the strongest person I knew, and it didn’t seem possible that something like this could happen to her. In my brain, she was untouchable. My emotions bubbled to the surface. “Sarah, I hate this. This is awful.” I closed my eyes, trying to remain steady. “No, it fucking sucks.”
She held up a hand. “We caught it early, so say a prayer of gratitude for that. Luckily, it hasn’t spread to her lymph nodes. That’s big.”