it had been the longest day of her life. Aside from not being able to sleep the previous night, the most frustrating part was the waiting. Once The Nation Today began, the news report, the weather report, centenarian birthday greetings and the always asinine host chit-chat seemed to go on endlessly. It was only after the first commercial break that Melanie made her move.
With the gym bag strapped over her shoulder and the gun in the pocket of her sundress, she made her way to the front of the crowd outside the studio. From the huge monitors above them, the curiosity seekers could see the events unfold through the glass and then how they appeared on TV. When Douglas Adams appeared on screen the onlookers became excited and talked animatedly amongst themselves. For many, this would be the closest they’d ever get to a man who one day soon might become their president.
After Adams restated his various platform positions, Evan MacLean announced that after the commercial break they’d be going outside to get reactions and questions from the voters.
In two minutes it will all be over, Melanie thought, as she placed the bag on the sidewalk.
It was then she saw Robert Barker being positioned in front of the outdoor microphone, that Melanie decided to move a little closer. As she ducked under a wooden barrier, a security guard appeared and told her to stand back.
Without thinking, she said, “I’m with him,” pointing to Barker.
She was terrified that Barker might turn and see her.
Then what?
Luckily his attention was glued to a small television monitor on a table in front of him.
“Okay then,” the guard said as he turned back to the crowd, watching for more gate crashers.
Melanie adjusted her blonde wig and calmly flicked the safety off the gun. Waiting for that idiot MacLean to throw the broadcast to the street became excruciating.
“And now let’s go outside to see what the voters think of your views, Senator Adams.”
The words were music to her ears.
Barker stared at the microphone in front of him, making sure the fedora he was wearing covered much of his face. The idea to wear a hat was brilliant.
I’ll have to thank Jerry when I get to the office, he thought.
The plan was to keep his features obscured as much as possible until he actually asked the first question. He would then discard the hat and look straight into the camera, ensuring Adams knew who he was.
After clearing his throat, he began, “I have two questions for Mr. Adams.”
Melanie quickly took the three steps that separated them and pulled the gun from her dress. She heard a gasp from behind her as she squeezed the trigger, sending the bullet into Barker’s right temple. Before his body hit the ground, she turned and ran toward the street, leaving those behind screaming and ducking for safety.
In a surreal state of mind, Melanie ran as fast as her legs could carry her. The world around her was in chaos, yet she still felt in total control. She had one goal and one goal only: get to the car. Running with the gun tucked against her side, she thought she knew what football players must experience sprinting toward the end zone to win the big game.
She jumped into the backseat of the Volvo, which was driven speedily out of the area. As her accomplice Jerry Steele navigated through the congested morning traffic, Melanie tore off the blue and white sundress, as well as the wig and glasses. After placing them in a bag she changed into a track suit.
“Any problems?”
“Not that I can see,” Jerry said, checking his mirrors.
By the time they neared the airport, the shooting was all over the airwaves.
Jerry pulled into an alley behind a burnt-out bar. After changing the vehicle’s plates, they continued to the airport where Melanie—using her middle name, Alison—returned the car to the rental office. The car was virtually untraceable and if everything else fell into place, the police would soon be looking for Lynn Barker and her car with a vengeance.
Back at the motel office, Jerry intently watched the colour monitor.
“Is she still there?” Melanie asked.
“Yep and sleeping like a kitten,” he said with a smile. “Do you have time to put that stuff in the room?”
“Yeah, no problem. The gas will keep her under for another half-hour at least.”
Melanie grabbed the bag and walked to unit #2. She unlocked and eased the door open, terrified Lynn might be waiting to ambush her.
Lynn, for all intents and purposes, however, was lost to the world.
Using the sunlight coming in from the doorway, Melanie watched Lynn’s chest rise and fall before entering the bathroom to hang the dress and place the wig and glasses on the vanity. As she was preparing to leave, an idea hit her and she walked to the bureau. She switched on the TV, turned it to WCNY, the local NCN affiliate, and set the volume low.
“You’ve been a very bad girl, Lynn. What will the old gang say now, Prom Queen?”
Melanie closed the door behind her, locking it from the outside.
“Sweet dreams, sucker.”
FOUR
Television viewers from sea to shining sea watched in reverent silence as Jason Morris brought the country up to date on the morning’s tragedy. The network’s coverage was into its second hour, although for everyone present in the conference room, it already felt like the second day. With no quick resolution in sight, the identity of the victim still unknown and no rational explanation for the shooting, the news executives were frantic to keep the story going without looking as though they were enjoying all the attention. As today’s incident had occurred during one of their shows, the news status code was immediately elevated to that of a Presidential assassination: Code Blue.
“We’ve got to make a statement, Colin,” the head of marketing said.
At 65, Colin Doherty was no stranger to pressure situations. As the President and CEO of the network for 15 years, he’d taken a hands-on approach to every major crisis. Using a remote, he turned down the television volume and joined the seven other men and women at the conference table. This team represented the brightest and best and it would be their job to help him decide how to proceed for the remainder of the day.
“I’m going to go around the table,” Doherty finally said. “Let’s start with public relations. Beverly?”
“A statement has been written,” Beverley said as she handed out photocopies. “Simply put, we state that we are very concerned The Nation Today was used as a deliberate backdrop for this killing and that we are co-operating fully with the authorities. It’s short and sweet, plus we don’t assume any liability.”
“Joel?” Doherty inquired in the direction of the network’s chief attorney.
Joel re-read the statement.
“My only concern is the deliberate part. It sounds as though we
