A Soul To Steal (The Sanheim Chronicles, Book One) (3 page)

“Why isn’t anybody in the conference room?” she asked the staff loudly, glaring at them all. “Don’t we have a meeting anymore or did I miss a memo?”

Nobody pointed out that it was only two minutes after ten o’clock and that that was hardly late. Instead, they all looked at each other and scrambled to get in the room after her.

Chapter 3

“Fifty men went up a hill,

None of them came down.

Fifty men went to him,

None of them were found.”

—Traditional  Scottish Rhyme, circa 1880s

Less than 20 minutes after accepting the job at the
Loudoun Chronicle
, Kate was already beginning to have doubts. Before she had made the rather impulsive decision to come back here, she had carefully considered the pros and cons.

The paper had been around for nearly two hundred years, was well entrenched in the community and was one of the few paid subscription papers left in the area after recent expansions by
The Washington Post.
Since the
Post
was unlikely to hire her, and journalism was the only career she ever considered, the
Chronicle
felt like the right place to be.

But her sense of balance had forced her to acknowledge some unpleasant truths. The
Chronicle
’s subscription was dwindling; its stories often lacked polish; and she feared it would be more provincial than she was used to.

Within those first few minutes, she knew she had been right on all counts. They were nice, of course. Lawrence, the editor, introduced her around to smiles and nods from all sides. But the meeting then became a series of inside jokes, unsubtle digs between reporters and general confusion.

To add to her doubts, the guy she had seen in the coffee shop this morning—the one who could not stop staring at her—was here making a repeat of his morning’s performance. She had the feeling that he was trying to be subtle, but if so, it wasn’t working. Every time she looked away, she could feel him watching her.

The sensation wasn’t threatening—she had no malicious vibe off him—just unnerving. Momentarily, the thought flitted through her mind that she had something on her face, or was somehow dressed inappropriately. But if that were true, only one guy noticed, and she thought that was unlikely.

Rebecca tried to keep the meeting going by listing various sections of the paper: Schools, Crime, Politics, Business and Sports. It was life divided into easy-to-understand categories that had little bearing on the world outside—life as a series of boxes. Not that Kate saw any other way to run a paper; it just felt forced.

But the meeting was bogged down from the get-go. The schools reporter was feuding with the crime reporter. The guy who was staring at her—Quinn—was bickering with the political reporter. The sports reporter wouldn’t say two words together, earning him the anger of Rebecca, and the business reporter was nowhere to be found.

About the only good thing was that it was over quickly. Rebecca, though clearly annoyed, waded through the options and quickly chose those she thought would be on the front page. But the overall feeling was provincial—no doubt about that.

Within minutes of leaving the meeting, it only became worse. Kyle, the crime reporter, was waiting for her outside, anxious to talk.

“Do you know what the key to being a good reporter is?” Kyle began.

On the face of it, this was an offensive question. Did she know what being a good reporter was? Well, she had been doing it for three years; she certainly hoped so.

“Oh here we go,” said another voice, one of the photographers.

Kate glanced at Bill. He was a huge guy, fat from every angle, but cheerful and friendly.

“What?” Kyle said, looking annoyed.

“Don’t let him bother you,” Bill said.

“Kyle, are you bothering the new girl already?” a new voice piped in from behind Kate.

It was Janus—she remembered the name because it sounded like a girl’s, but was spelled differently.

Behind Janus, Kate noticed the guy from the coffee shop—Quinn.

 “Not a problem,” Kate replied to Janus.

“Anyway,” Kyle said, clearly irritated at the interruptions and the crowd around him.

“Oh, is Kyle going to give his watch speech again?” Janus asked, and thrust out his hand to Kate. “The name’s Janus.”

“He’s Welsh,” Quinn said behind him. Quinn thought it was possible this was the worst opening line he had ever used on anyone, but it had just popped out there.

Janus turned and looked at him with mock offense.

“How dare you bring my ethnicity into it?” he said, far too loudly. “I tell you, Kate, the racial stereotyping around here is just ridiculous.”

“It’s best if you ignore him,” Quinn said, sticking out his own hand for Kate to shake. “He won’t go away, but you will gradually tune him out.”

“Gentlemen, I believe I was talking to the lady,” Kyle said, and stroked his mustache angrily.

“Right, right,” Janus said. “Mustn’t get in the way of the watch speech.”

“The watch speech?” Kate asked, a little bewildered at the motley collection of guys around her.

“As I was saying, the most important part of being a reporter is...”

Janus shot up his hand and Bill quickly followed. Quinn laughed and Kyle ignored them all.

“The most important part is to set your watch ahead by three minutes,” Kyle said, looking very serious.

The others started chuckling.

“Set it three minutes ahead?” Kate repeated, feeling like she was being put on.

The others started laughing again.

“Don’t listen to them,” Kyle said again, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s very important.”

“Why?” Kate stammered, completely at a loss.

“So that you will never be late,” Kyle said, still looking very intense.

“How would that help?”

Kyle stared at her a moment, giving her a blank look at why she couldn’t see the wisdom in what he was saying. Then he smiled.

“It’s very simple,” he said, while Janus and Bill started talking amongst themselves. “All reporters like to procrastinate, yes?”

Kate nodded.

“And all reporters are always about two minutes late to everything, right?”

“I guess,” she said.

“A-ha,” he said, looking pleased with himself. “Well, if you set your watch just three minutes ahead, it gets you moving. You look at it and instead of being late by two minutes, you are just in time.”

“Oh,” Kate said.

“It’s very simple, but I can’t tell you how many times it has saved my butt,” Kyle said, still smiling intently.

“I see,” she replied. She paused, waiting awkwardly for something to save her. “Well, that seems very helpful.”

“Of course, you could just leave earlier,” Quinn said.

Kyle grunted in disgust.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “You could, yeah. You make fun of me, but how many times are you late to something, Quinn? Huh?”

“All the time, Kyle,” he replied.

“You see?” Kyle said, looking at Kate in triumph. “You see? I’m never late. I’m always one minute early. It makes all the difference in the world, Kate.”

Kyle jabbed his finger in Quinn’s direction.
“All the difference,” he said again.

“That’s super, Kyle,” Janus said, and put his arm around Kyle to start moving him away. “You’re scaring the poor girl. Worse, you’re scaring me.”

“Did you forget your medication again, Kyle?” Bill asked.

Kyle shook off Janus, gave him a dirty look and stomped away.

“Thanks, Kyle,” Kate called after him, but he glanced balefully at Bill and Janus.

“I’d stay out of his way today,” Quinn told them.

“Nah,” Bill replied. “He’ll get over it.”

“Don’t worry about Kyle,” Janus said. “Something will explode or some robbery will happen and he’ll be happy again.”

Laurence popped his head out of his door.

“Janus, Quinn, good,” he said. “I want you to give Kate the tour, will you? Take her around, show her the place.”

“That’s the first five minutes,” Janus said.

“Yes, well…” Laurence said.

“It’s okay, we’ll do it,” Quinn replied. Laurence retreated back into his office.

“Janus is right, though,” he said afterward. “This won’t exactly eat up your whole day.”

“It’s all right,” she said. She smiled at Quinn.

“Well,” he said. “Uh, I guess you can see the newsroom. If you walk straight ahead, you’ll find the graphics department.”

They walked just a few feet down the hall. As they did, Kate sized up her three companions. Quinn was handsome, though he looked tired. Janus struck her mostly because of his size. He looked no taller than her, at about 5 feet 4 inches, with straight black hair and brown eyes. Given how talkative he had been in the staff meeting, she wondered if he was the kind of guy to have a Napoleon complex. Stepping next to him, she also distinctly smelled the aroma of cigarettes on his clothes.

Bill was a big guy, not quite obese but well beyond chubby, Kate observed. She felt almost mean thinking that because he was so nice. About medium height with brown eyes and black hair, he looked pleasantly cheery, as if someone had recently complimented him. Maybe it was just a good day, but she had the impression he usually looked that way.

 “About the only thing worth seeing here is the printing press,” said Janus.

“It’s cool you actually see it,” Kate said. “At the
Gazette
, we never did. It was all sent off-site.”

“It’s cool,” Quinn said, and he opened the double doors that led downstairs.  

They walked down there and saw the paper run just beginning. The rumble of the press would soon be so loud they would have to start yelling to make themselves heard. They watched it for a moment.

In the corner a sign said, “Safety is our number one priority. We have not had an accident in…” and in magic marker it finished, “54 days.”

“Not a very encouraging record,” Quinn said when he saw Kate looking at it. “Come on, you can see back here where it all comes out.”

They walked around the gigantic machine to get to the back.

“The
Loudoun Chronicle
is a broad sheet,” Quinn said, pointing up. “If you look up there, you can see where the screens come in. Everything is sent electronically from upstairs, then photographed and placed on the screens. It gets sent through in sections, then comes out over there.”

He pointed to a few places.

It took Quinn a minute more before he realized Kate wasn’t watching him. He looked to see her staring at the far corner of the room. There was nothing there that he could see.

“Kate?” he asked. Janus and Bill followed her gaze, looked back at Quinn, and shrugged.

“Kate?” Quinn asked again. She didn’t respond for a minute.

“What happened there?” she said finally.

“Happened where?” Quinn asked, and looked back at the spot.

“There,” she said, and pointed to a spot on the floor. Quinn saw nothing but a very dusty piece of cement.

The three men exchanged quizzical looks.

“There’s nothing there,” Quinn said, feeling a little concerned.

Kate walked up and looked down.

“It’s right…” she trailed off.

Quinn followed her. He looked down and saw nothing.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

She turned and looked at him, then back at the floor.

“Trick of the light,” she said. “I just thought I saw something—that’s all.”

She did not sound convincing, but Quinn let it go.

“Sure,” he said.

“Hey, guys,” Bill said. “Are we done with the tour yet? Anyone up for lunch?”

Kate nodded, said she was hungry, and they headed out the back door. On his way out, Quinn noticed her look back at the corner of the room.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

She met his gaze.

“Yeah,” she said. “What could be wrong?”

Outside, he noticed her hands shaking, but he knew enough not to say anything.

*****

They went to a small Italian deli for lunch and Kate tried to forget about what she had seen, though the thought of it kept coming back. She was surprised at how easy it was to hang out with these people. She had this idea that reporters were supposed to be constantly moving, as they had back in Ohio. No one had time for lunch there.

But she supposed a weekly paper was bound to be different and if there was a more relaxed atmosphere, she wondered why she felt herself missing the all-consuming pressure of a daily deadline.

“It’s different, isn’t it?” Quinn asked.

“What?” Kate said, startled out of reverie.

“Working here,” he replied, and smiled at her.

“You read my mind,” she said, and really looked at Quinn.

In jeans and a red button-down shirt, he appeared casual and comfortable, but she felt some vibe coming off him. He seemed...nervous. Like a guy on his first date or something. It never occurred to her that she might have had something to do with that.