Both the anchor and the station manager froze. "Huh?" He spoke.
"Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in?" While the station manager stood there seemingly frozen out of shock, she fired off a salvo of questions with breakneck speed. I was impressed. She really was a reporter.
With the smile still on my face, "I'm just a student that came to do you a favor."
"Favor? What would a child possibly be able to do for me?" It was like the station manager was pure air. He was no longer relevant to this discussion.
"From what I overheard, you aren't very excited about tonight's choice of story. Right?"
"Didn't your parents ever tell you that it's rude to eavesdrop?"
"Is that a yes?"
"What of it?"
"I have something that might amuse you." I pulled off my backpack.
"What do you have in there? Some overdue chemistry assignment? I've been out of secondary school for a while, miss. I'd think you'd be better off finding a tutor. Now get the hell out of here."
"Wow. You really know how to sweet-talk them, eh' old lady?"
"O-Old?! Listen here you little shit…!" She stomped over to me with her finger pointed at my face. I felt like I was about to get an earful. Not really fair if you ask me. She called me a child. I called her old. Turnabout was fair play, right?
Whatever. I'm wasting time. Ignoring her and whatever venom was spewing from her lips, I pulled out the broken lockbox.
When she saw what I was hauling around, she froze. Her journalistic instincts must've been piqued.
"What is that?" She looked down at my hands, looking just as entranced as the station manager was when he was staring at her tits earlier.
I smiled mysteriously. "If you play your cards right, this is just what you need to rebuild your career and get you out of this…what did you call it? Ah, yes. This shit-hole you call a town."
Just then, the station manager spoke. "Heather? We don't have time for this. We're on the air in 11-minutes."
She didn't even spare him a glance. She saw Celeste's serial-killer in training baggies, which held all of the spoils from her previous conquests and was practically salivating.
"What is this, young lady?"
"Oh? I'm a young lady now? I thought I was a kid who needed a tutor."
She didn't even flinch at my rebuttal. "Come on. Don't play coy. What have you got there?"
Suddenly, her voice was sweet as sugar—not a trace of vinegar to be heard. I smirked.
"If I tell you, you have to run with the story. Deal?"
"Deal!"
"Heather!"
She didn't hesitate. The station manager was so astonished that he nearly fell over. But there was no stopping her. She smelled something juicy, and she had to have a bite. I didn't expect her instincts to be so well-honed. That was a welcome surprise that will make things easier for me.
"Tell me, do you know of the VanWalters family?" There was no need to string them along for too long.
She nodded. "Yes. I know of them. I am also aware that their eldest daughter and heir is attending the all-girls school up the road."
"Good. You know your stuff."
"I may not look like it, sweetie. But I am a journalist. Any good journalist worth her salt will know the major players in any town she works in. Call it job security."
"I see. Well, this might call that job security into question." I pulled out the portable DVD player and took one of the baggies and opened it. After inserting the flash drive into the player, I glanced towards Heather and the station manager. "Remember your promise."
She nodded as she swallowed loudly. Even the station manager was too invested now. He was staring at the DVD player from over her shoulder.
Five minutes of silence passed. Well…they were silent. The room was filled with the sounds of violence, screaming, sobbing, and regret. I skipped ahead in the movie because they didn't have time to watch it all. Once I stopped playing the video, both Heather and the station manager slumped over.
Heather's eyes looked hungry and impatient. The station manager's eyes looked wary.
"What's your name, sweetie?"
I smiled. "Just consider me a concerned citizen."
"Sure. Whatever. And there are more of these?"
"Yep. There is about 60 in total."
"Holy fuck! 60?! But there are only about 20 here. Where are the rest?"
I laughed. "I'm not foolish enough to bring everything all at once. The rest are safe in a secured location. Don't worry. If you run the story, I'll let you have access to the rest of the materials."
"Hmm. Smart girl. I like you." She smiled. It was actually a pleasant expression.
"Thanks."
"H-Heather. We need to talk about this."
"Talk about what, Marco? You saw it just the same as I did. That little pampered princess is a devil in disguise. The public has the right to know."
I nearly burst out laughing. I've finally heard the famous line that journalists all around the world use when they know they are about to open a shit-storm of problems—"The public as the right to know." Heh! Priceless.
"We only have 3-minutes until we air. We don't have time for this."
"Fuck that! We're running with this story. Do it, or I'll walk. Right here. Right now."
The poor old guy looked like he'd aged about 20 years. I actually think I saw an ulcer form. I felt kind of bad but such things are to be expected in life.
Knowing that he was fighting a losing battle, he gave in.
"Okay." It was the only word he could say.
Heather looked at him and smiled. "Great! Now, let's postpone the live broadcast by about 30-minutes. That should give us time to make a copy of all of the material, right?" She looked at me. "You're okay with that, right?"
"I'm totally fine with that."
"Thanks. Now, we only have 1-shot at this. I'm sure their lawyers will be breathing down our neck's tomorrow morning talking about us defaming her personality, and suing us for slander. We'll need to protect our asses with proof. It would be great if we can make several copies of the information. I still have some contacts out in Washington. The climate out there is different from her hometown out East. We should be okay. Do you think you'd be willing to part with the physical evidence?"
"I'm good with that."
She shook her head. "Tisk! You really shouldn't be so quick to trust people. What if I run with the story? Don't you want some compensation?"
I shook my head in response. "All I want is for you to bring her bullshit to light. Do that and we're square."
"What are you? Some fighter for justice?"
I laughed. "No. I'm not a hero. If anything, I'm just a nosy girl with too much time on her hands."
Her eyes twinkled as she reached towards me. I grabbed her outstretched hand and smiled.
She declared, "This is going to be one hell of a show tonight. What do I call my number 1 source?"
"Just call me Anonymous. That's what I'd rather be anyway."
"Well, Anonymous, you just did the world a favor. We're bringing that little bitch down!"