Rick Mofina - Every Second

The muscles in Varner’s jaw were pulsating.

“Let’s cut the bull, Page. I’ve told you before, this case is complicated. Lives are at stake, and revealing those details at this stage could jeopardize the safety of innocent victims.” Varner nodded to the faces of the Fulton family on the tripod. “You want to risk their lives for your story.”

Kate glanced toward the photos.

“Are you asking me not to publish what I’ve learned?”

“I’m asking you to use your head and not rush into anything.”

“Let me be clear. I would never, ever , want my reporting to be the cause of people getting hurt, but at the same time I’m not going to suppress valid news that I’ve obtained. Sooner or later, someone else will discover Lori’s past life and report it. You both know that’s the way it works.”

“Look, what do you want, Page?” Tilden asked.

“A deal.”

“A deal? We look like we’re selling cars?”

“I’ll hold off reporting on Lori Fulton’s past, and you give me exclusivity to any breaks on the investigation. It’s win-win. I get the story, but I only publish it when you give me the green light.”

Tilden looked at Varner, who glared at Kate, letting a long, tense moment pass before blinking.

“All right, I’ll consider it.”

“You’ll consider it?”

“No guarantees. That’s the best you’re going to get right now, Kate. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it.”

“And, Kate? Don’t ever pull this again.”

Manhattan, New York

Reeka swooped upon Kate the instant she’d returned to the newsroom from the press conference.

“How was it? Anything there that will get us ahead on this story?” She walked alongside Kate to her desk while checking her phone.

Kate couldn’t reveal what she had on Lori Fulton. Not yet. She needed more time to dig, she thought, as she sat down and logged into her computer.

“I’m working on it.”

“What’ve you got?”

In the tense air of Reeka’s question, Kate stuck to her rules.

Never tell an editor what you’ve got until you’ve nailed it. And never tell an editor what thorny deals you’ve arranged with sources. Reeka wouldn’t understand or support Kate’s agreement with the FBI-she’d want to take the lead and run with it as soon as possible. But this angle had the potential to be huge and she needed her deal with Varner to pay off-if it went sideways, it would be disastrous.

In frustration, Reeka tapped Kate’s desk with her phone. “Kate, what’ve you got?”

“Sorry-nothing concrete at the moment. I’m just following a few loose ends.”

“Okay, here we go.” Reeka was suddenly distracted by a message on her phone. “Here’s a development. FBI agents have just raided Jerricko Blaine’s apartment in Texas. Our Dallas bureau has sent us raw copy. I’m flipping it to you now. I want you to weave it into your update story.”

“Okay, got it.”

“Kate, we have to go deep on Jerricko Blaine. Work with our Dallas people to find out who he is. Let’s craft a biography.”

After Reeka left, Kate quickly read through the copy sent by Tasha Krause from Newslead’s Dallas bureau. It was solid stuff on the SWAT team at Jerricko Blaine’s apartment and the reaction from residents. Kate called Tasha for more details.

When Tasha answered, Kate could hear a honking horn and laughing children in the background. Tasha was outside on the street.

“Hi, Tasha? It’s Kate Page in New York. Got your copy on Blaine-looks good. Anything new on Jerricko Blaine to add?”

“Bits and pieces. I’m still talking to residents.”

“Do we know much more about him?”

“A little. The FBI took a roommate in for questioning. Neighbors say Blaine was pretty quiet, kept to himself. That’s what they always say, isn’t it? One weird thing-he had a pet snake, a python or boa. Anyway, it’s illegal and the animal control people took it away. They needed four guys to carry it. We got pictures.”

“You find any relatives or friends?”

“Not yet. I’ll try to get the roommate.”

“What about Blaine? Does he work? Is he a student?”

“He works. Hold on… I’ve got something here from a neighbor.” Tasha was quiet and Kate could hear as she paged through her notes. “Here it is-he works, or worked, at the Fire and Steel Truck Emporium, washing big rigs. It’s a truck stop on the LBJ Freeway.”

Kate wrote it down.

“You talk to anybody there, Tasha?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay, leave the truck stop to me. Keep us posted if you get anything from the roommate.”

Kate went online and found the website for Fire and Steel Truck Emporium. She combed through several pages until she found a number for the truck wash and called it.

“Truck wash, J. T. Flores.”

“Hi, J.T. I’m Kate Page, a reporter with Newslead in New York.”

“You don’t say.”

“Do you have a second?”

“That’s about all I got. I got units waiting.”

“Do you know Jerricko Blaine?”

Kate heard a two-way radio then heard Flores yell to someone.

“You’re done, buddy, take it! Go! Jerricko, yeah. He used to work here. Quit a while back. What’s this all about, anyway? I got a business card here from some FBI agent who dropped by asking about Jerricko when I was at the dentist today. I’m supposed to call him. You wanna tell me what the hell’s going on?”

“You haven’t seen the news?”

“Ma’am, I’m a busy workin’ man.” Another crackle on the radio, and Flores shouted, “Roll it ahead, to the left. No! Left!”

“Blaine’s wanted by the FBI for a bank robbery in Queens, New York.”

“What? A bank robbery? In New York? Jerricko-no way. Hell, that’s gotta be wrong. I do not believe it. Not one bit.”

“Why’s that?”

“He was just such a quiet kid and a good worker. I can’t see him doing something like this.”

“Did you ever talk with him much?”

“Not much. Like I said, he was mostly pretty quiet. When he did talk, though, it was usually about the same thing-he was worried about all the suffering in the Middle East. I never understood why he got so intense about that stuff. It’s not like he was from there, at least as far as I knew. It just seemed odd to me.”

“When you say he got intense, can you give me an example?”

“Well if it wasn’t trouble in the Middle East that got him going, it would be some music video that would come on the TV in the break room and he’d get going about how it was immoral or something. I guess he didn’t approve of the behavior of some young people-he seemed pretty conservative, you know? But, hey, this is Texas.”

“How did you come to hire him?”

“I got him through an online job posting. I had an opening for a truck washer, he applied. We liked him, hired him, and it all worked out for a while. About ten months, I guess. Then he told me he had to quit for another job he’d got in Kentucky or Ohio, someplace like that.”

“Do you remember where he worked before he started with your company?”

“Huh… I think it was… Oh, at the airport, that’s right. He was cleaning rental cars.”

“Did you know much about his background, check his references?”

“Naw, he did fine in the interview and I needed him that day.”

“Do you know if he has any family or friends in Dallas?”

“He never said much about that stuff. But, come to think of it, one time we were working late together and during our break he talked about where he grew up and how he sometimes missed it.”

“Where’s that?”

“California.”

Kate caught her breath.