Nothing Sacred (FBI Agent Dan Hammer Series Book 1) by Douglas Wickard Page A
Authors: Douglas Wickard
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waiting for the slower-than-molasses counter person to fill up the Styrofoam containers, her mind was organizing material. It was important to have a strategy. What’s first? Title. She needed a great headline hook on this one.
Story of a lifetime…
She also knew, in order to make morning deadline, she would have to hurry. She kept checking her watch. If anybody were to see her, they would probably think she had some sort of spastic tick.
The counter person had obviously sampled one too many Boston Cream donuts and was, unfortunately, testing Janice’s last nerve. Janice’s body language was screaming out, “Just give me the Goddamn half and half on the side.” She grabbed the coffees, threw a five dollar bill on the counter and ran. For her life.
I’m on a deadline. A story is breaking .
Louis was waiting as Janice barreled through the wooden doors.
“It’s only you, Mouth. You’re on your own, at least until six, so make it good.”
“Yes!” She gave Louis a high five and a huge kiss on his grainy cheek, passed him his coffee, ran to the Metro desk and turned on the computer. She pulled her pad from her jacket pocket and started writing, random thoughts at first, notes, just to get her going. Then, gradually the focus would materialize. Put it all out on the table first and see what showed up. The computer beeped and belched as it went through the obstacle course of software.
At this point, nothing had actually happened. Angie Kessler was alive.
Then, as if on cue, she heard Evans’s voice come over the scanner. Unmistakably Evans, loud and clear. Always available when she needed him, the handsome oaf, holding onto the radio handset and flicking another cigarette butt. One of Roger’s, she was sure.
“Advising all available units. All available units. We got a Code 30 out here on Old Towne Road.”
Evans kept repeating the site, “Old Towne Road.” It sounded peculiar to Janice, annoying almost. Unless, of course, he was signaling something. Something unspoken. Code 30? Read between the lines, Janice. What’s he saying?
“What’s a Code 30, Louis?” Evans was reiterating something he didn’t want any ordinary reporter to pick up. Unless a certain reporter was already familiar with the Angie Kessler case. As far as Janice knew, she and the original officers were the only ones privileged with that information, unless…
Louis flipped through a reference book that listed the codes officers use. “Let me see… Officer needs help. Emergency.”
“Holy shit!” Janice flew up from her chair so fast she knocked over her coffee.
Louis leaped up with her. “What?”
“Get a photographer out there. Now!”
“What?”
“A photographer.”
“Where?”
“Old Towne Road. And make it snappy.” Janice was already sticking her pad and pen back into her jacket and heading for the exit.
“What about the story?” Louis asked.
“On my Mother’s grave…”
“On your Mother’s grave?”
Janice watched Louis hold his hands up in the air. Exasperated. She wished she had a camera. She caught Louis in a vulnerable moment. One she could use some day. As blackmail.
“Dammit, Louis, don’t you get it? They found another body.”
“C’mon.”
“With all due respect, Sir, move your ass!”
Story of a lifetime…
She also knew, in order to make morning deadline, she would have to hurry. She kept checking her watch. If anybody were to see her, they would probably think she had some sort of spastic tick.
The counter person had obviously sampled one too many Boston Cream donuts and was, unfortunately, testing Janice’s last nerve. Janice’s body language was screaming out, “Just give me the Goddamn half and half on the side.” She grabbed the coffees, threw a five dollar bill on the counter and ran. For her life.
I’m on a deadline. A story is breaking .
Louis was waiting as Janice barreled through the wooden doors.
“It’s only you, Mouth. You’re on your own, at least until six, so make it good.”
“Yes!” She gave Louis a high five and a huge kiss on his grainy cheek, passed him his coffee, ran to the Metro desk and turned on the computer. She pulled her pad from her jacket pocket and started writing, random thoughts at first, notes, just to get her going. Then, gradually the focus would materialize. Put it all out on the table first and see what showed up. The computer beeped and belched as it went through the obstacle course of software.
At this point, nothing had actually happened. Angie Kessler was alive.
Then, as if on cue, she heard Evans’s voice come over the scanner. Unmistakably Evans, loud and clear. Always available when she needed him, the handsome oaf, holding onto the radio handset and flicking another cigarette butt. One of Roger’s, she was sure.
“Advising all available units. All available units. We got a Code 30 out here on Old Towne Road.”
Evans kept repeating the site, “Old Towne Road.” It sounded peculiar to Janice, annoying almost. Unless, of course, he was signaling something. Something unspoken. Code 30? Read between the lines, Janice. What’s he saying?
“What’s a Code 30, Louis?” Evans was reiterating something he didn’t want any ordinary reporter to pick up. Unless a certain reporter was already familiar with the Angie Kessler case. As far as Janice knew, she and the original officers were the only ones privileged with that information, unless…
Louis flipped through a reference book that listed the codes officers use. “Let me see… Officer needs help. Emergency.”
“Holy shit!” Janice flew up from her chair so fast she knocked over her coffee.
Louis leaped up with her. “What?”
“Get a photographer out there. Now!”
“What?”
“A photographer.”
“Where?”
“Old Towne Road. And make it snappy.” Janice was already sticking her pad and pen back into her jacket and heading for the exit.
“What about the story?” Louis asked.
“On my Mother’s grave…”
“On your Mother’s grave?”
Janice watched Louis hold his hands up in the air. Exasperated. She wished she had a camera. She caught Louis in a vulnerable moment. One she could use some day. As blackmail.
“Dammit, Louis, don’t you get it? They found another body.”
“C’mon.”
“With all due respect, Sir, move your ass!”
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