The Paper

[Deagan (DELETED 7215)]

Deagan McNamara's first day on the job was not turning out the way he expected. He sat at an unused cubicle in the bullpen, typing away at his first article for the Harper Rock News on a word processor that looked older than he was. And that was saying something. Tom Wilcox, a veteran staffer, had gotten him all set up. This is what you wanted, Deagan thought to himself. A plain old beat reporter. However, he realized, having been given the promise of his own office, having that now taken away from him, even temporarily, was a little disheartening.

That morning he had struggled to get out of bed. His depression had been hitting him especially hard the past couple of days. Despite his doctor's advice, Deagan never took any medication to combat the symptoms. He didn't want to lose his edge. He needed clarity to sift through the details he was gradually accumulating, the ones that would lead him some day to solving the case of his wife's murder. Perhaps he was especially depressed because it had been a week since the last time he had seen or heard Emily's ghost. He was beginning to realize that as horrifying as it was, encountering the spectre of his dead wife was also oddly comforting. It had pushed him further than anything else since her murder in pursuing her killer. It had pushed him into getting this job with the Harper Rock News. But as he did not awake to his dead wife hovering over his bed (which might very well have caused him to scream aloud, had it actually happened), the job itself and what it entailed would have to be motivation enough.

Deagan's day had not improved when he arrived at the Harper Rock News offices around seven a.m. The office of Abelle Broussard, his employer, was completely trashed. It looked, in fact, like a wild animal had torn it to pieces. This was the same office which had promised to him for is own use in her absence from the paper. Taped to the door of the decimated office were a sheet of paper with some details about a murder that had occurred the night before outside the HRN building, and two photos of the crime scene. A post-it next to the notes said simply Your first story.

It was the same story Deagan was now knocking out on the ancient computer. He had called around to wtinesses (as well as begged some sources on the police force off of Tom), and was now pretty much ready to put this one to rest. Deagan's phone buzzed. He picked it up, and saw that he had received an email from Abelle. Something about a new photographer. No mention of what had happened in the office. Deagan texted a quick reply and put the phone down. He rubbed his eyes.

"So you're Liz and Ginger's replacement, huh? Not much of a trade up." A young guy in a brown suit, tie already loosened like it was the end of the day instead of the beginning, was looking down over the cubicle wall at Deagan. Deagan looked up at the man and stared him down. He couldn't tell if it was a legitimate dig or just workplace banter. He had no patience for it either way. It had not been his choice for the two young women to be fired by Abelle Broussard. But what was done was done. He wasn't going to shed any tears over it. And he certainly wasn't going to risk this job over them.

"Shut up, Barry! Don't you have a feature on train delays to write or sumthin'?" The new speaker was Tom Wilcox. He sauntered over and shooed away the nonplussed young reporter. "Sorry about that. These young bucks all think they have sumthin' to prove. Barry's just disappointed cuz he always labored under the misapprehension that while those two were around, he had snowball's chance in hell of getting laid. How's the story coming?" Tom was a genial older man, overweight and bald. He wore glasses, and the beard on his face showed that what hair he had left had long ago gone completely white.

"It's done," said Deagan. He pushed send, and handed the photos to Tom. Tom had already seen them. He was the one who had written Deagan the post it, under instructions from Abelle Broussard.

"Some art. I guess Belle got herself a new photog as well," Tom chuckled as he eyed the gruesome shots of the murder.

"I heard," said Deagan. He tried to think of something encouraging to say, It's a new day at the Harper Rock News, or some bull-**** of the sort, but it all sounded trite in his head. He knew he was supposed to help Abelle manage the paper in her absence. He had to hope the employees would respond to his work ethic, and wouldn't need the kind of empty encouragement he was currently incapable of giving.

Tom grinned. He seemed satisfied with Deagan's reticence. "What the **** do ya suppose happened to Belle's office?" he asked. Deagan could tell it was mostly a conversation starter. Tom didn't seem too curious. He supposed the veteran employees at the Harper Rock News had already gotten used to some of Abelle Broussard's eccentricities. Deagan shrugged.

"It's my first day on the job. I'll wait for an explanation from Abelle." Assuming she wants to provide one, he thought.

Tom laughed. "What kind of reporter doesn't want to investigate sumthin'?"

Deagan smiled. He couldn't help it. He liked Tom. Deagan stood up from the cubicle and stretched. "C'mon Tom. Show me around the place. We've got a paper to get out."