Then there were the Courier refugees: young Bruce Price, pale with bristling dark hair, a native who backed up Tim on sports and covered more hard news, post-merger. Janice Darby, with dancing, dark eyes and light-brown skin, who did a bang-up job covering environmental issues, a new beat for The Courier-Beacon. She also wrote about schools and families—though she was single like everyone except Tim. Then again, they were all pretty young, as reporters tended to be at this level and size of publication.
Hai appeared at the top of the open stairs—the floor below housed the ad and production departments. He strolled over and dumped his camera backpack next to a chair before he plopped down. “Sorry I’m late.”
Alden was struck by how much he looked like his mother, Mrs. Yung, who ran the Meteor Mart. Same spiky black hair and angled cheekbones. Only Hai was several inches taller.
“Hi, Hai,” all the reporters said with the usual teasing tone.
The shooter gave them a withering look. “Never gets old.”
The corner of Roz’s mouth turned up as she scanned them. “Let’s do this quickly, all right? Alden and I have to get on this story.”
“Get it on, you mean,” Bruce mumbled to giggles.
Roz’s hazel eyes lasered in on his. “Bruce, did I just hear you volunteer to cover the zoning board meeting this afternoon?”
“No, I?—”
“Great, I’ll put you down for that. Talk to Janice about the impact of that new southside subdivision near the river so you ask good questions. And let me know if they talk about a movie studio, OK?”
“OK,” Bruce mumbled into his chest as the others snickered.
“Janice, what’s happening with the wildlife preserve?”
“Construction has started on the parking lot, the nature center, and a boardwalk trail over the wetland. They’re planning to create a couple of paths, though they’re keeping most of it wild,” Janice said. “The nudists aren’t happy, though.”
“The nudists?” Alden asked.
“There’s a small beach on the south end that’s been popular with a local nudist group for years,” Roz said. “Officials overlooked it because they didn’t see the harm.”
“But now most of the council thinks it doesn’t fit the ‘family-friendly’ vibe they want,” Janice added. “The nudists are planning a protest tomorrow morning.”
“You’d better go to that,” Roz said. “You too, Hai. But keep it PG.”
“I’ll try to find some palm fronds I can shoot through.” Hai’s remark prompted more chuckles.
Round Roz went, getting story statuses, making sure art was assigned, asking questions. Alden loved watching her work. She didn’t just break their balls. She complimented them on their good work, too. “Great photos Saturday, Hai. Tasteful. And we’ll use the book signing pics with Alden’s story about Enolia Honeywood.”
“I saw yours in the system, too,” he said. “Nice.”
She smiled. “I just took advantage of our access. But thanks. OK, everybody—email me your updated budget lines.”
And they were off.
Alden stood and sidled over to her. “You’re so good.”
“Don’t think you’re getting special treatment,” she quipped, soft enough so only he could hear.
“I expect very special treatment.”
Her face turned pink, and he bit back a smile.
“Don’t make me send you to the zoning meeting,” she said.
“That might not be a bad idea. Especially if they talk about the movie studio.”
“That’s what I want to nail down, whether such a thing even exists. Sheryl was scant on details.” She moved to her desk at the edge of the room—she’d been offered the glassed-in conference room as an office after the merger but turned it down—and he sat in the chair next to it, facing her.
“I’m going to work one of my sources at City Hall, see what they can tell me,” she continued. “Have you been able to learn any more about Wayne Vandershell’s movies?”
