Rick Mofina - Whirlwind

“So I’m not directly reporting?”

“No, Dorothea arranged accreditation and assignments for others earlier and told me she’d assigned you to desk duty here.”

“Desk duty? Where is she? And where’s Chuck?”

“They’ll be with groups the Governor and President will thank today, first responders, rescuers, volunteers and believe it or not, news media, for their work when the storm hit. The Governor always said the press was crucial at conveying critical information.”

Kate thought for a moment before revealing Jenna Cooper’s call.

“Listen, Burt. I should be at the stadium to talk to Jenna after she and her husband meet the President. He might mention their baby in his speech. That could be my follow on the story.”

“That’s great, Kate. But you’re not accredited. You can’t get into the media area of the stadium,” Wilson said. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to pass this to Mandy or Roy for them to follow for us at the stadium.”

She stared at Wilson for a moment then nodded.

So she was supposed to hand over what was essentially her work to the people competing with her for a job? Kate struggled to get her mind around the matter.

Still reeling after she’d returned to her desk, Kate was more than deflated at her exclusion from covering the President. She was concerned about the obvious implication of it. It could only mean that she wasn’t being considered for a full-time reporting position.

As they waited for Air Force One to land, Kate scrolled through her phone for messages and paged through her notes for story leads while wrestling with her anger and her conscience.

She shouldn’t be thinking of herself again. She should be thinking of the people who died in the storms and their families. So what if she wasn’t going to get a job with Newslead? People were dealing with far worse.

As Kate lamented not being at the stadium to talk to Jenna, she reflected on images from the story that she’d never forget: meeting Jenna searching for Caleb at the leveled flea market, finding Caleb’s romper in the shelter, the SWAT team at the motel and Jenna holding Caleb’s rattle amid the ruins of her home.

As Kate searched the newswires she came upon the FBI sketches of the man and woman believed to have taken Caleb.

Why did they take him? Where is he? Will the FBI find him?

Kate needed to see this story through. She couldn’t give it up.

“Here we go,” one of the editors said.

The big-screen TVs suspended from the ceilings throughout the newsroom were tuned to different networks. Each one showed Air Force One landing at DFW International, then the President stepping off the plane and being greeted by dignitaries. Then there was the motorcade to Arlington and the packed stadium.

Everything moved smoothly.

The President met more officials, then came speeches, prayers, songs, eulogies and a montage on the stadium’s giant video screen of moving, inspiring still photos and videos from the storm, the devastation, the rescues, the tragedies and the triumphs in tribute to everyone affected.

Watching the events from the near-empty newsroom, Kate had never felt more alone. She ached to be home with her daughter. She touched Grace’s picture on her phone. Kate then thought of her little sister, Vanessa, and that horrible moment in the river all those years ago.

Why couldn’t I hold on?

The President went to the podium. His speech was powerful, honoring the dead, the injured, those still missing and their families. He praised people for coming together when their world was being torn apart. There were no easy answers as to why people were killed and why the survivors were left with so much hurt to bear.

“But the way forward is to stand united in our response to one of the most painful moments of our lives. The way to heal is to draw inspiration from the selfless acts of courage by those who fought hard against the storm under severe and anguishing conditions.

“Ordinary everyday people like Victor Sanchez, the father who shielded Rosario, his blind daughter, in a culvert, or Billy Dean Brooks, the son who threw himself over Agnes, his mother, while their apartment was exploding around them.

“And the heart-wrenching case of a young mother named Jenna Cooper, who did all she could to keep her baby boy, Caleb, safe only to have him taken from her by someone posing as a Good Samaritan.”

Cameras cut to Jenna dabbing her eyes while holding Cassie and being comforted by Blake.

“Let them all be our beacons of hope. And let’s pray that investigators will soon reunite little Caleb Cooper with his mom Jenna, dad Blake and big sister, Cassie.”

Then the giant screen filled with photos of Jenna with Caleb, Cassie and Blake, all laughing during happier times. Pictures Jenna’s church had provided from a family picnic day in a Dallas park.

The President continued commending the heroic spirit and the human will to endure as he concluded his speech.

It was followed by a gospel choir singing a moving hymn, and another montage of the devastation. Even before the ceremony concluded with the President meeting and comforting survivors, raw news copy started flowing into the bureau.

“All right, let’s get to work,” Wilson said.

Kate got busy handling copy from reports on the speech, the reaction and stories from people in the audience. When she got a text from Jenna on where to meet her, Kate responded, telling her that her Newslead colleague, Mandy Lee, would seek her out, then passed the location to Mandy. Kate struggled to drive out of her mind that she’d not only just given away a major story that she’d developed, but probably her last hope at a job, as well.

She resumed helping clean and assemble file after file of raw copy that continued to flow as the President visited the injured storm victims at a hospital, then communities devastated by the storm where he embraced those who were overcome.

Kate was putting the finishing touches on a file when Tommy hurried to her desk.

“I know you’re swamped, but I got a call for you.”

Kate didn’t remove her eyes from her monitor. “Thanks, Tommy. Can you take a message?”

“I think you should take it.”

“Really, I’m kinda busy.”

“The caller says she knows where Caleb Cooper is.”

Kate stopped typing and looked at him.

Fate, Texas

Hazel Hill held her cordless phone to her ear and peeked through her curtains at her neighbor’s yard.

That missing baby the President talked about is next door.

Someone has to do something about this.

Hazel had already called the police. As usual, they didn’t come, so this time she’d tried calling the press. If they looked into it, maybe something would get done. The newspeople seemed interested before they’d put her on hold. Patience is a virtue, Hazel told herself as she listened to the music. It was Rhinestone Cowboy . She liked Glen Campbell.

Looking down from her bedroom window and through the trees, Hazel had a good view of the house, the yard, everything.

Holding the phone and watching, she glanced at the water glass by her nightstand and tried to remember. Did she take her green-and-white pills today? Or was it a blue-and-yellow pill day? She’d have to look at her pill organizer and the daily newspaper to be sure what day it was. Hazel read the newspapers every day and watched the TV news-the music stopped and the line clicked.

“This is Kate Page with Newslead. Can I help you?”

“Hello, yes, are you the reporter who’s been writing stories about the missing baby the FBI is looking for? I told the nice young man I wanted to talk to that reporter.”