Scoop (37 page)

Ray nodded, trying to follow, but he had no clue what Hugo was trying to say. Ray was about to continue on the subject of Roarke’s plight, but Hugo started talking again.

“You want to get drunk?”

“Excuse me?” Ray asked.

“Drunk.”

“I…uh…”

“I don’t drink much, you know. Maybe some wine now and then or a beer at my uncle’s. Things like that. But this just seems like a good time to get drunk. Everything’s falling apart. I tried some deep breathing exercises, but that didn’t really do it for me, although I was distracted for a while when I figured out I could suck my nostrils shut.”

Ray lowered his head. Hugo already sounded drunk.

“I’m sorry,” Hugo said. “I’m making you feel uncomfortable. I forgot, you’re a Christian.”

Ray sighed. A lot of people seemed to be forgetting that.

Hugo suddenly rose, went to the fridge, and opened the door. It was going to be an uncomfortable moment, but Ray was going to have to stand his ground and tell Hugo he had no plans to get drunk with him. Hugo returned with two brown-glass bottles and handed Ray one.

“Sir,” Ray said. “I’m sorry, I just can’t drink this.”

Hugo fell into the couch and said, “You don’t like root beer? We’ve got Coke, I think.”

Ray looked down at the bottle. Root beer. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks, and he took a swig. “Root beer’s fine, sir.”

“You know,” Hugo continued, “you’re single, Ray. You have the whole world in front of you. You should think about not settling down. Maybe you already have, and that’s why you’re the age you are and aren’t married.”

Ray tried to smile.

“Anyway, if you do find that special someone, you might want to talk through your whole life together. Come up with every scenario possible, and then see what the other person would do. That’s a good way to spend a date actually.”

Ray really wanted to get on with how to help Roarke, but he was in this man’s house at an obscene hour. He figured he should afford Hugo the courtesy of listening to him ruminate. Hugo waggled his finger toward a bookcase like it might be listening. “You tell that Roarke that as mismatched as he and Gilda are, I think they have a future. And tell him not to bother with premarital counseling.” Hugo took a breath and then a swig of his root beer. “This isn’t really doing it for me.”

“Doing what for you, sir?”

“Ray, I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”

Ray didn’t want to be let in on anymore secrets.

“Did you know that I’m a high-strung kind of fella?”

“You?” Ray laughed a little. “I would never think of you as high strung. Jill Clark, yes. You, no.”

“I’m high-strunger than Jill,” Hugo said, and Ray had to glance down at the bottle in his hand to make sure it was root beer. “You see, I’m on the Blue Pill. It’s real tiny. Smaller than an aspirin. It makes me calm.”

“Do you…take it regularly?” Ray asked, wondering if he might need to get it for him now. Hayden had already spilled the beans on his antianxiety medication, but Hugo looked like he needed to explain.

“Twice a day. My doctor is very strict about it. She won’t write me a prescription for anything above what I’m on. She thinks I don’t need it. She thinks the problem might be that my life, not my chemicals, are unbalanced.”

Ray started to feel like he might need to come up with an excuse to leave.

“I’m talking about the chemicals in my brain,” Hugo continued, pointing to his skull.

“I see,” Ray said. He didn’t.

“And there is something to be said for not feeling all numbed up. Going with your gut, you know? My gut made the decision to run your story, for example.” He patted his slightly bulging belly. Then he sighed into the silence. “I’m not the person everyone thinks I am.”

Ray laughed a little. “Well, sir, I am the person
nobody
thinks I am.”

Hugo scratched his head and laughed. “Okay. You’re going to have explain that one.”

“I don’t know. People think of me as soft-spoken. I guess I am a little. But you know, I used to be more outspoken about my faith. In the past few years, I guess I started taking it for granted, you know? I stopped talking about it, stopped applying it to my everyday life.”

“For heaven’s sake, Ray, that’s what I like about you. Do you know what it’s like to work with Hayden Hazard? She’s always wanting to pray for me and encourage me. And even when I’m mean to her, she’s nice to me. It’s annoying. Nothing gets her worried. I think there’s a mental condition or something that causes some people not to worry. I can’t remember the name of it. Anyway…” Hugo sighed. “But she is nice.”

“What made you decide to put her in the anchor chair with no experience?” Ray asked.

“The woman has nerves of steel. Nothing gets to her. I saw her showing Tate how to look into the camera, and I realized she was going to be a natural. I have a good sense for talent.”

Ray settled into the couch. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and maybe during Hugo’s erratic rants, he might come up with a solution on how to get Roarke out of jail.

For the next forty-five minutes, Ray contemplated whether or not he should tell Hugo about the strange disappearance of every e-mail from Chad Arbus to Gilda while Hugo detailed his theory about what makes the Purple Pill better than the Blue Pill.

R
ay awoke and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. His head snapped to the left, and there was Hugo next to him. They were both sitting on the couch, and Hugo’s head had fallen backward. He was snoring loudly. Ray rubbed his eyes and sat up. Outside the sun was just warming the dark sky. Ray had never felt more embarrassed in his life. He looked toward the staircase, wondering if Mrs. Talley had come down to discover him on the couch.

He promptly stood up, waking Hugo. He glanced at Ray, as if not surprised to see him standing in his living room, then grabbed the remote to the television. He checked his watch as he turned the TV on.

“Sit down, Ray,” he ordered. Ray slowly obeyed, sitting on the edge of the couch and resisting the urge to ask if there was any coffee. He really needed an excuse to pace.

That familiar and hated News Channel 10 jingle filled the quiet around them. Ray could feel the tension build in the air as they both waited for the news to start. Their morning anchors’ normal cheery faces were replaced with serious expressions. Hugo shook his head and looked at Ray. “This isn’t good.”

“Good morning,” the woman anchor said. “Breaking news this morning concerning the disappearance of News Channel 7 anchor Gilda Braun.” Pictures flashed up of their news station, and both men groaned. Then a small insert showed Gilda’s picture, and Ray was pretty sure it was the most unflattering picture he’d ever seen of her. Her mouth looked contorted and her hair unkempt. “Last night, police conducted a search of the News Channel 7 station…”

The visuals now told the story as the screen showed a shot of the inside of their offices. As the camera turned, so did a lot of faces, right toward it, with expressions of bewilderment, despondence, and fright. The anchor’s voice smoothly added words to the pictures, as if they didn’t tell their own story. But in this case, they didn’t want the pictures to tell the story, they wanted the story to tell the pictures.

“…in connection with the disappearance of Gilda Braun. And late last night, police tell us they arrested a man they’re calling a ‘person of interest.’”

“Oh no,” Ray groaned.

“They have not released his name yet,” the anchor continued, and Ray let out a huge sigh, “but they do tell us that he wrote love letters to the anchor and that he is a News Channel 7 employee. He is being held on unrelated charges.”

“Meanwhile, executive producer Hugo Talley had no comment on the situation…” Hugo winced as they showed him putting his hand up and yelling at the reporter to get out of the station.

Hugo punched the remote, turning off the television. “This is going to make the national news.”

“What do you want me to do?” Ray asked. He’d never seen his boss look so desperate.

“I don’t know. I’ve got to get into the office, figure out if there is any way we can spin this thing. We’re going to have to report the story or we’ll look like fools.” Hugo cut his eyes sideways to Ray. “The police aren’t saying who they have in custody. We can have the one-up by breaking that part of the story wide open.”

“No!” Ray said. He turned, wanting to reach grab Hugo by his shoulders. “No, Hugo. We can’t do that to Roarke. He’s innocent. We know that. We can’t exploit him like that.”

“If we don’t, they will soon enough. If we get it out there first, we’ll
have control over the story instead of lagging behind and trying to play catch up. We spin it first, and we have control over the story.”

Ray put his hands over his face, trying to get a grip. “Then let me take the story. I want to report it.”

Hugo shook his head. “No, Ray. You have to follow up on the sewage plant explosion. We’ve got to have another story to draw upon. You break that story wide open, and Gilda’s disappearance will take a backseat.”

Ray sighed, and his shoulders felt the burden of the task that could save his friend from eternal embarrassment. “Who are you going to put on Gilda’s story?”

“Jill, of course.”

“Hugo, Jill doesn’t have the sensitivity needed to cover this story.”

“You’re suggesting Trent?”

Ray ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. Trent is too inexperienced.”

“I’m going with Jill. But I’ll micromanage the story. Ray, I know what’s at stake, okay?”

Ray nodded then looked at his watch. “I’d better be going.” He looked at the staircase again, surprised that he hadn’t seen Hugo’s wife come down. He thought she had to leave for work pretty early.

“Make certain you are at the afternoon meeting. We’ll have a lot to discuss.”

“I know.” Ray went to the front door. He wanted to say something, anything, that might give some hope to the situation, but nothing came to him, so he gave Hugo a nod and walked to his car. He heard the door close behind him just as his cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Ray, it’s Mack. What are you doing right now?”

“Uh…”

“Good. Meet me at the corner of Eighth and Vessel in ten minutes.”

“But—”

“We’re going to find out what the news director of a station with a missing anchor does with his morning.”

Ray slid into a maroon Pontiac, keeping his sunglasses on. Mack smiled, and Ray noticed her glasses were even darker than his. In one sense, Ray felt ridiculous. He had a huge news story to cover, with the two leads the Electric Horseman had suggested, and here he was hiding out in the rental car of the sister of the woman on whom he had a crush. But in another sense, he trusted Mack. She’d already found out valuable information on Gilda, and maybe she could help him put together the puzzle pieces.

She handed him a steaming foam cup. “Here. Hayden said you liked coffee.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“That’s his house up ahead,” she said, pointing to a huge, colonial-style mansion that seemed out of place in the neighborhood.

“So we’re going to break in and look for information?” Ray asked.

“That would be illegal,” Mack said. “We’re going to wait until he leaves, and then we’re going to follow him.”

Ray sighed. “Mack, I appreciate your involvement, I really do. But I’ve got a huge story to follow, and I can’t waste time sitting around waiting for Chad Arbus to drive to what will probably be his office.”

Mack smiled a little. “A hundred bucks says he doesn’t go to work.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Deal or no deal?”

Ray sighed. “Let’s go for ten. Anything over that does make one wonder about gambling tendencies, doesn’t it?”

She laughed. “Fine. Ten bucks.”

“Why do you think he won’t go to the station?”

“Because Hayden said that Mr. Talley has had a hard time reaching
him, that he’s not answering his phone, and that he’s not keeping his usual hours.”

“Not surprising,” Ray said, “considering the circumstances.”

“You have to use your imagination, Ray,” she said. “And when I imagine what I would be doing in Mr. Arbus’s shoes, I imagine I’d be at the station and in everyone’s business.”

Ray stared down at his coffee. He really could use the caffeine, but he’d hate to gag in front of Hayden’s sister.

“Where’s Hayden?” he asked.

“She went in early, just to see how she could help Mr. Talley, if he needed it. She was up all night praying for Roarke. She feels horrible.” Mack adjusted her glasses and stared forward as she said, “You know if you hurt my sister in any way, you’ll pay. And I’m not talking in the gambling sense.”

Ray’s jaw would’ve dropped had it not been clenched shut with shock. “What?”

“I like you, Ray. I really do. And I have a feeling you know how to treat a woman—particularly a woman like my sister—with respect and decency. But if you for some reason decide not to, you’ll really be sorry. I’ve been known to make grown men cry, and not in the ‘happy tears’ sense.”

Ray swallowed, squeezing the cup in his hand.

“I like to pray, Ray. I pray a lot. In fact, while I was waiting for you, I prayed that we would find out the truth about this whole situation. And I believe God is going to answer that prayer. I pray for a lot of things and a lot of people. But nobody wants me praying for them when I’m angry, you know what I mean?”