Chapter
Two
“Don’t see why I pulled this project.”
Stuck in a car for two hours with a petulant photog was pure torture. Zac had only been with the station for a couple of months, so there hadn’t been much time to get to know him. Unfortunately, I was learning a lot more than I wanted to. From the time he’d crawled into my car, he’d done nothing but talk about himself. He was only a year younger than I, but he reminded me of a rebellious teenager.
“Maybe you’ll end up enjoying this,” I said, fairly sure he wouldn’t. “You moved to Missouri six months ago. This will give you an insider’s view.”
He raised one eyebrow and let his jaw drop. “Inside of what?” he said finally. “Back roads, roadkill, and wild boars?” He snorted. “I’m more interested in the nightlife in St. Louis. This is definitely not why I came to Missouri. How far away is this place from St. Louis anyway?”
“Almost ninety miles south. If you’re thinking you can run back and forth to the city from Sanctuary, forget it. You’re stuck, so you might as well make the best of it,” I said, trying to keep my temper in check. “You’ll get lots of assignments you don’t like. It’s the nature of our jobs.”
He reached up and turned the rearview mirror toward himself and checked his image.
“There’s a mirror on the back of your sun visor,” I said.
He shrugged and pushed the rearview mirror back toward me. While I moved it back into place, he flipped his sun visor down and stared at himself. He looked carefully at his hair, which I found odd, since he’d pulled it all back into a ponytail. What was there to fix?
“I don’t see why we have to go to this . . . Sanctuary place first,” he said as he put the visor up. “We’ve already passed several of the towns on your list.”
“I explained it to you once.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to stay calm. “Research is easy with these other places, but there’s nothing about Sanctuary online. It’s the one town we’ll have to investigate ourselves. Boots on the ground.”
“Boots on the ground?” he repeated. “What are you, ex-military?”
I shook my head. “No, my dad was. He used the expression a lot. Guess I picked it up.”
“Wow, he must be fun at holiday meals.”
“I have no idea. He divorced my mom when I was sixteen. A year after that he got a new family. Guess they meant more to him than I did. We don’t talk much anymore.”
Zac didn’t respond. Just yawned and looked out the window.
Why had I said that? I never talked about my personal life. Besides, Zac was the last person I wanted in my business.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” I shrugged. “I don’t even think about him. My mom’s been mother and father to me ever since he remarried. He’s not important.”
At first his rude tone irritated me, but I didn’t really care what Zac Weikal’s opinion was . . . about anything. All I wanted to do was get to Sanctuary. I needed to find this kid who looked so much like Ryan. In my gut, I was certain once I saw him up close, I’d know he wasn’t my brother. Yet something inside pushed me forward. My family had never had closure. Ryan’s disappearance had been the catalyst that ended my parents’ marriage—and destroyed my family. I had to follow this lead. Had to know the truth.
“Are we going to check into the hotel first?” Zac asked. “I’d like some time to chill out.”
“No, we’re meeting someone in Sanctuary. A lady named Martha Kirsch. She runs the library. I called her and set up an appointment. I hope she’ll help us get the story we need.”
“Mennonites read?”
“There are all kinds of Mennonites. In fact, John Traylor, the evening news anchor? He’s Mennonite.”
“But he doesn’t wear a funny hat or anything. Hey, and he’s on TV? I thought these people didn’t watch TV.”
“You’re talking about Old Order or Conservative Mennonites. A lot of them don’t. Sounds like Sanctuary is made up of all kinds of people. Some of them don’t belong to the Mennonite Church at all. According to Martha, the one thing residents in Sanctuary have in common is that they’re all looking for a more uncomplicated life.” I let out a deep sigh. “I can understand how they feel.”
“Oh, come on. You? You seem like a city girl, and you’re a bulldog at work. Everyone knows you’ll end up in the anchor chair one of these days.”
His statement surprised me. “What? Are people talking about me?”
He shrugged. “Don’t get offended. It’s just that you act so . . . driven. It’s obvious.”
“Maybe so.”
My GPS warned me that a turn was ahead, so I concentrated on watching the road. Zac was right. I did feel driven. Sometimes I wondered why. I loved the energy at work, but once I left the station, I sought peace and quiet. I spent my time reading and even did some writing—something I didn’t admit to anyone. Sitting in my favorite chair with my feet up and writing on my laptop with Mr. Henderson, my cat, snuggled up next to me brought me the feeling of tranquility I craved. Over the past year, my social life had slowed to a crawl. And that’s the way I liked it.
Zac suddenly let out a long and prolonged sigh. “I hate being around religious people.”
I glanced over at him and frowned. “You knew we were going to a Mennonite town, right? I don’t need you coming across as antagonistic with these people. Why did you take this assignment?”
He shrugged again and looked out the window. I toyed with the idea of turning around, taking him back to the station, and getting someone else. But Ed would expect me to get this situation under control.
“Look, Zac, I have no idea why you don’t like religious people, and frankly, I don’t care. But I expect you to act professionally while we’re in Sanctuary. Can you do that?”
He turned back toward me. “Not a problem. I filmed those nut jobs from Kansas when they protested at the funeral of a soldier. I wanted to grab them one by one and bash their heads in, but I didn’t. I kept my cool. If I can handle them, I can deal with people running around in goofy clothes, acting like they’re better than me.”
I had to smile. “No one wanted to beat those Kansas jerks more than I did, but I don’t understand why you have an attitude about people in Sanctuary. People you haven’t even met yet.”
“Religion is something men made up so they’d feel better. A fantasy designed to make us think there’s something more to life than there really is.”
I checked the GPS again. We were still a couple of miles from our turnoff. “Okay, but I still don’t get it. What if someone wants to believe there’s more to life than what we see every day. It’s their business, right? They’re not hurting us.”
“It’s not that. No skin off my nose if they want to believe a lie.”
I took my eyes off the road long enough to stare at him. His jaw was working furiously. Obviously the subject of religion was a hot-button topic for him.
I turned my attention back to the highway. “You didn’t answer my question,” I said bluntly.
“It’s personal. I have my reasons. Can we just leave it like that?”
“Sure, as long as you don’t cop an attitude in Sanctuary. I need these people to be . . . cooperative.”
“So what do you think will happen when the new station owners take over?” Zac asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“I have no idea. I think Leon and Ed have more to worry about than we do. I am concerned about our anchors though. Almost every time someone new takes over a station, they think they need to empty the anchor chairs. We have a good team. I’d hate to see any of them leave.”
“I overheard someone say you could end up taking Cindy’s place at five and six.”
The car swerved a bit, and I slowed down. Before I could respond, the GPS voice announced it was time for a right turn. I turned accordingly and then turned again. It was as if civilization disappeared once we left the highway. Dense trees lined both sides of a narrow two-lane road. I could see a few houses, but they sat back a long way, surrounded by trees and foliage.
“What are you talking about?” I asked finally, once I was certain we were headed in the right direction. “Who said that?”
“A couple of reporters were discussing it. Have no idea where they got the information.”
I forced myself to concentrate on my driving. According to my GPS, the last turn to Sanctuary was only 1.8 miles away. I pushed down a tickle of exhilaration. Ed hadn’t said a word about it to me. Before I got too excited though, I had to consider the source. Overhearing office gossip wasn’t really reliable. Just as quickly as the rush of euphoria came, it left. I couldn’t trust this information. Besides, I liked Cindy Drake. She was always nice to me and had gone out of her way to help me when I first came to the station. It was true that she was getting a little older, but she was dedicated, thorough, and extremely professional. In my heart, I believed the station would be making a grave mistake if they let her go. As much as I wanted to anchor the news, I didn’t want to see Cindy lose her job.
I suddenly realized Zac was waiting for some kind of response.
“I’m not comfortable talking about this,” I said. “And I’m not going to hope someone like Cindy gets fired.”
Zac grunted. “Without the killer instinct, you could get eaten alive. Tough business, you know.”
I kept quiet, but his words echoed through my head. Did I have any “killer instinct”? Did I even want it? The idea of being an evening news anchor was all I’d ever hoped for, but now, when the reality got a little too close, the prospect made me feel uneasy.
“Looks like you’ve got a call,” Zac said, staring at my cell phone, which was in a holder mounted on my dashboard.
I glanced down. Sure enough, the light was flashing. I’d forgotten and left it on silent again. I’d missed a call from the station. I quickly picked up the phone. With one hand, I entered my voicemail code while I kept my other hand on the wheel. Then I put the phone up to my ear.
“Wynter, this is Ed. I thought you said you cleared this story with the muckety-mucks in . . . what was it? Sanctuary? We just fielded several calls from some religious nuts who are extremely upset we want to film their little backwater hole in the ground. Forget ’em. I don’t need the headache. You’ve got lots of other towns to visit. See you in ten days.”
“Nine days,” I mumbled under my breath. I slipped my phone back into its holder.
“Anything important?” Zac asked.
“Nope. Not at all.”
I slowed down when I saw the sign pointing to Sanctuary. As I took the turn, the butterflies in my stomach morphed into condors.