Legal Murder

chapter:8

The camera was angled directly on Lauren's make-up layered face. She was being filmed interview-style for a section of the documentary. Reagan would be filming segments of Lauren's life through interviews of people she came across, and then parts where the camera followed daily routine and task.

"I'd definitely say I spend the majority of my time here in the newsroom." Lauren was telling the blinking red light at the top of the large video camera.

Mr. Peters called cut, and gathered Lauren and Steve to his side. "I think this is good," The black-haired, older man said in a tone which sounded contradictory to his words, "But it needs something."

"Like what?" Steve interjected, feeling nervous.

Reagan's eyes darted around The Little NYC Newspaper's newsroom where they were shooting. A smile began to form on his lips. "We need something astoundingly normal. Like that guy over there." Without pointing, he simply nodded towards a man in a Donald Duck tie who was photocopying in the back of the office. "Who is that?"

Lauren blinked in surprise when she saw who Reagan wanted. "Oh, that's just our sports reporter. His name's Howard Simmons."

"Perfect." He said to himself, then raised his voice across the room, "Howard? Do you have a minute?"

Mr. Simmons had been making copies of the interview he'd had with a basketball player from Riverdale High School. As he was about to take a sip of his heavy-cream decaf, his name was bellowed by none other than Reagan Peters himself. Howard had been acutely aware of the famous producer currently occupying the tiny news headquarters, but hadn't troubled himself to make his presence known to the camera crew.

"Yes?" Howard set his coffee down without taking the sip. When the large, important man made a hand motion for him to hurry over, Mr. Simmons abandoned all thoughts of his photocopying, and speed-walked towards the cameras, lights, and quite literally, the action.

Mr. Peters instantly dove in for a finger-crushing handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Simmons. The name's Reagan."

"Hello." Howard replied in a curious town, and dropped the handshake.

"I'd like you to be in my movie. I figure that this thing is about Lauren's life, and you, in a small way, affect it."

Howard, who hardly ever spoke to the young, busy Executive Editor, glanced sideways at her. "How?"

Reagan smiled. "You work for her. This way, we get a bit of the employee's perspective. I want to know everything about you, Howard. Your wife's name, your favorite beer, the reason why you're wearing a Donald Duck tie... everything."

The intensity of that statement caused a frown to be etched onto Mr. Simmons face. "I'm not very interesting-"

"Nonsense. Now, if you'll just take a seat on this stool," Reagan kicked the tall, metal chair over to Howard, and with an impatient sigh, added, "and answer a few questions. Sandy will handle legal paperwork later." His dark eyes narrowed at his personal assistant who was staring back at him in obedience.

Adjusting his infamous Disney tie, the plain-looking sport's reporter took a seat and folded his hands over his lap.

The camera's red light flashed. Mr. Peters finished scribbling something on a white legal pad, and shoved it into the interviewer's hands.

"When did you first start working for Lauren Painter at The Little NYC Newspaper?" The stiff-backed, spray-tanned woman asked Howard after glancing down at the scribbled sheet.

Mr. Simmons considered for a moment. "Ten years ago."

"How would you describe the area you live, and the area of the newspaper headquarters?"

"It's pretty average," He said with honesty, "nothing really happens around here, because all the action is in the heart of the city."

The interviewer took a second to read the next question. "Do you have children?"

"I have a daughter."

Reagan yelled "cut" unnecessarily loud. He stood out of his director's seat with an expression of inspiration. "How old is your daughter?"

"She's fourteen." Howard shifted in the uncomfortable, metal stool, and adjusted his tie again.

"I'd like to put her in the film."

All eyes snapped over to him. Steve looked appalled, Lauren was rather jealous, and Mr. Simmons simply stared in confusion.

"How can my daughter contribute to a film about Lauren and her newspaper business?" Howard voiced what everyone else was thinking.

A young intern rushed into the office with a cardboard tray of hot coffees. Reagan took two cups, and the rest were left on the counter.

Mr. Peters blew a breath onto the steam of one of his coffees, and studied Howard skeptically. "I have a feeling she'll add some kind of interesting twist to this. Does this daughter of yours do anything special?"

An awkwardness fell over the group when Mr. Simmons didn't answer right away.

"Dixie likes to write... and she's a great student." It was weak, but Howard had never been very good at explanations.

Reagan put on a wry smile. "Anything else?"

Then, realization hit him. Dad, I need to go public. I need people to know about this. I need people to know so we can do something about it. "She's doing a project right now. A big project."

At that, Reagan's bushy eyebrows shot up. "On what?"

"Abortion."

The silence seemed to become thick with unspoken thoughts as seconds ticked by.

Mr. Peters smile didn't falter as he took a long sip of his coffee, and regarded Howard. "I'd like to meet her. Tomorrow. I want to interview her about this big project."

Lauren was about to interject her complaints when Mr. Peters clapped his hands loudly. "Break for lunch!"

Howard walked back to the photocopier sporting an untamed grin. He couldn't wait to tell Dixie the good news. She'd gotten the publicity she'd been hoping for. Now all she needed to do was say something in the interview that was convincing enough to make a difference.

Why do you think so many people cower or cringe at the mention of abortion?