Nowhere to Run (29 page)

Lauren had just returned from her shoot when Linus snagged her in the newsroom.

“This is a great opportunity for you, Lauren,” he insisted. “We’ll reschedule the consumer story you were slated to do tomorrow and run it later in the week. Go out to New Jersey and bring me back something we can promo as ‘Terror in Maplewood.’”

Lauren needed no convincing. If she was ever to get Constance’s job, she needed more hard news pieces under her belt.

“Who’s my producer?”

“Annabelle Murphy.”

As B.J. drove the car through the Lincoln Tunnel, Annabelle and Lauren discussed strategy. Lauren decided it was in her best interest to let Annabelle take the lead.

“Let’s go into town and interview people on the street to get their reactions to what’s happening in their usually peaceful suburb,” Annabelle suggested, remembering the picturesque village that she had visited with Jerome. “B.J. can get some beauty shots of the Maplewood downtown area and the upscale homes.”

Lauren nodded. “‘Residents have chosen to live in this tree-lined community of snug homes and good schools thinking they were making a safe life for themselves and their children’ type of thing?”

“Exactly,” said Annabelle with gratitude that they were on the same page. Lauren may not have been at the top of Annabelle’s favorite people list, but Annabelle was relieved that the reporter was smart enough to pick up immediately on the vision of what they were going for in the piece. Maybe Lauren wasn’t the lightweight Jerome portrayed her as.

As Annabelle observed Lauren tapping her foot against the car floor mat, she realized Lauren might be nervous. This assignment was outside her usual reporting area.

Annabelle knew she had to focus on the piece and make sure they got the makings of a first-rate news story for tomorrow’s show. This wasn’t the time to pump Lauren for information or create an adversarial relationship. They had to work together this afternoon.

After the baby woke from his nap, the au pair changed his diaper and dressed him in his red snowsuit.

“Come here, Sandy. Come on, girl,” she called in her thick accent. The long-haired golden retriever loped forward and waited patiently as the leash was clipped to her collar.

Once the baby was loaded into the stroller, the three headed down the hill for their afternoon walk to town. The walk broke up the long day, stuck in the house with a four-month-old for ten hours at a clip while the baby’s parents were off at their offices. All these days were long, spent in an unfamiliar country with little companionship beside the television set. Soap operas and Oprah Winfrey. It wasn’t what the au pair had envisioned when she signed on. She had thought living in America for a year would be much more thrilling than it had been so far. The most excitement had been when the police had come this past weekend to the house across the street where the man who died of anthrax had lived. And that was an excitement the au pair could do without.

Since the police had been there, she had watched the anthrax stories on the news that explained how the first apparent symptoms appeared days after exposure, and she had been wondering if she should tell the police what she had seen. But the police in her own country scared her and, it followed, the American police were scary as well.

The au pair didn’t want any trouble.

It wasn’t hard to find people who wanted to talk. Annabelle stood on the sidewalk in front of the Maple Leaf Diner and approached customers as they entered and exited.

“Hi, I’m Annabelle Murphy with KEY News. We’re doing a story on the latest anthrax casualty. Would you be willing to answer a few questions for us?”

When the affirmative responses came, Lauren stepped in with her microphone and asked the questions while B.J. trained his camera on the faces.

“Of course, it scares me,” answered a young mother as she straddled her toddler on her hip. “We moved out here last year from Manhattan to get away from terrorism. Now I’m worried that nowhere is safe. There’s really nowhere to run.”

Annabelle jotted down the words in her reporter’s notebook, sure they’d want to use that sound bite in their piece.

The au pair stood on the corner and watched as the American news crew interviewed people in front of the diner. She didn’t recognize any of them from television, but it was exciting nonetheless. At least she would have something to write home about tonight.

As she rolled the stroller back and forth in place, she wished that she could go forward and be interviewed and then see herself on television later. But she didn’t know if that would be a good idea. Not only was she self-conscious about her heavy Irish accent but what would she really have to say that anyone would be interested in?

The baby began to fuss. As she searched for the pacifier in the stroller pocket, the idea occurred to her. Maybe there was a way to feel part of the excitement.

Within half an hour, Annabelle knew they had plenty of sound bites to choose from. She glanced at her watch. The sky was beginning to darken. They still had to get the B-roll of the town and swing by Essex Hills Hospital to get an exterior shot of the building. If they were to make it back to the Broadcast Center and get the script written in time for her to catch that van to Edgar’s funeral, they had to get moving.

“I think we have enough here, don’t you, Lauren?”

“Yes, we have some really good stuff.” The reporter nodded. “But what about my stand-up?”

Not only knowing that the piece needed to illustrate reporter involvement but positive that Lauren would want her “face time,” Annabelle had anticipated the question.

“I was thinking that it would be good to shoot it in front of the train station up the block,” she suggested. “You could say something about the New York City commuters who leave their families each day in the supposed safety of the suburbs only to find that they’re as vulnerable here as anywhere else.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Lauren agreed.

It wasn’t worth packing up the gear and driving the short distance to the train station. They could walk it. As they crossed the street, a young woman pushing a baby stroller approached.

“Excuse me.”

Lauren glanced at the young woman but kept on walking. B.J. rolled his eyes at Lauren’s single-mindedness and shrugged.

“It’s all right. Go ahead, Beej. I’ll be right behind you.” Annabelle stopped and turned her attention to the wide-eyed female.

“Yes?”

“You’re doing a story on anthrax, right?”

“Yes.”

“I have something you might want to know.”

Annabelle doubted it, but she waited.

“I work for a family who lives across the street from the man who died from the anthrax. The Friday night before the man got sick, I saw something when I was walking the dog.” The young woman glanced down at the golden retriever.

Annabelle’s interest was piqued now. “What was it? What did you see?”

“I was walking Sandy, and I passed someone on the street near the man’s house.”

“A man or a woman?”

“It was dark and I really couldn’t tell. Whoever it was had on pants and a heavy overcoat with the collar turned up. But when Sandy was done, I walked back up the hill, and I could see the person put something into the mailbox of the man who got anthrax.”

“Did you tell the police this?”

The au pair shook her head. “At first, I didn’t think anything of it. But then, when I saw on the news that the man across the street must have been exposed to the anthrax days before he got sick, I was afraid to tell the police.”

Annabelle flipped to a clean page in her notebook.

“What is your name?” she asked.

The au pair looked nervous. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“The police should know about this,” Annabelle urged.

Again, the girl shook her head.

“All right, but let me give you my card. If you think of anything else, will you please call me?” Annabelle scribbled her cell phone number on the back.

The young woman looked at the white card with the official KEY News logo.

“There was one other thing,” she offered, feeling that she could trust this Annabelle Murphy, who wasn’t making her feel trapped, this lady who was making her feel important and interesting.

“The person had on a baseball cap. I recognized the circles on it. It was from the Olympics.”