"It’s their fault! Someone should have been here!" He lowers the gun to Kels pointing it right at her. "You don’t care! No one cares that my boy is dead!"

"I do care." Kelsey offers as she stays near the table. "I do care. If someone here is truly responsible for his death, then I can help you bring them to justice. But you have to trust me and let me help you."

"How can you help me?"

"I can do a story about the library and its policies. If we find out someone here was negligent…"

"You’d do that? You’d help me?" He lowers the gun.

"Yes. Yes, I will, but you have to trust me." She moves slowly towards the table again and begins another approach. "You have to let me help you." I zoom in and see her swallow hard as the sweat breaks out across her forehead. "Give me the gun. I can’t help you unless you give me the gun." With her other hand, she’s brushed bits of plaster from the table and chairs, inviting her captor to sit with her once more.

"No!" He raises the barrel again. I actually feel my heart beat double time and I’m nearly ready to get between them.

"Okay, okay. You don’t have to give it to me."

I hate to break it to her, but he isn’t.

"But I can’t help you if you don’t. Harper and I may as well leave and let police come in here."

"If you try, I’ll kill you."

Kelsey, would you please not mention the goddamn cops to him again.

"Well, then-" Kels gestures around. "This room will have seen four senseless deaths. Mine. Harper’s. Your son’s. And yours. Because if you kill us, the police will have no choice. I just thought you’d like to be around to see your revenge."

This seems to make some amount of sense to the man and though he’s still gripping the weapon in flexing fingers, he does take the seat she’s offered him. Kelsey sits as well, a little too closely for my tastes, but she can touch him now, placing a comforting hand on the fidgeting man’s arm.

"Tell me about your son? Huh? Let’s start there," she’s trying to calm him down before she goes for the gun again and I think it’s a pretty good plan since he looks just a touch too trigger happy for my tastes.

"He came here that day because I’d kicked him out of the house. I caught him with drugs and he wasn’t supposed to have them, ya know? His parole officer told me that."

Okay, I think, zooming in on the two figures. Leave it to Beaver, this ain’t. But it’s great television.

"I was so angry, I kicked him out and told him he needed to pull himself together. Was that wrong?" the gunman’s eyes seek out Kelsey’s, finding in them gentle acceptance.

"Not necessarily," she sooths softly. "Sometimes you have to force kids to make their own decisions and take on their own responsibilities. Especially if he was already involved in the wrong crowds. He couldn’t have expected you to turn the other cheek while he continued to hurt himself, could he? You loved him too much for that."

God, she’s good.

The gunman nods sadly. "I loved him very much. He must have come straight here, didn’t know what else to do. I don’t think he was trying to kill himself, do you?"

Kelsey smiles sweetly, pats the man’s arm. "No, I doubt it. I think his judgment was impaired, is all. Maybe he got some bad stuff. I’m sure he wanted to work things out with you and come home. He knew you were right."

"But these people-" his voice rises in anger again and he starts to stand but Kelsey interrupts him.

"Unh unh," she chastises gently, pulling him back to his chair and reaching again for the weapon. "I told you. I’ll help you bring justice here by determining if they’re understaffed and undertrained. If the library was negligent, we’ll get our revenge for your son, I promise you that. But it won’t be at the end of this gun." She taps the weapon, the sound of her well-manicured nail on steel echoing through the room. "We’ll do what they couldn’t. We’ll make sure that other people don’t die from their negligence without resorting to senseless death."

The man hesitates in his half standing position before allowing himself to be tugged back into the chair. He’s still holding the weapon though it isn’t with the white-knuckled grip of moments before. He wants to trust Kelsey, that much is obvious.

Hell, my little blonde gold mine is so sincere, I want to trust her. Her compassion is earnest and convincing, her grip on him strong and comforting. I see just a glimpse of the woman she must be under all the makeup and cold exterior. This must be the woman that has captured Erik because, until this moment, I just couldn’t figure out why he would stay with her. I figured she must be one hell of a good lay. It’s a theory I’d love to test some day.

So distracted by these lecherous thoughts, it takes a moment for me to realize what’s going on in front of me.

I watch, amazed, as the Psycho Wonder puts the Uzi on the table, then stands up and steps back from it. Kelsey takes it and places it gently to the floor, respecting the weapon even once it is out of the nut’s hands. Giving it a shove with her foot, it slides over to me, stopping at my feet. I follow its slide with the Betacam. As I pan it back to Kelsey, she has left her own seat and is making a slow and cautious approach, holding her hand out to the man, who takes it.

"Do you have any more guns?"

Uh, gee, Kelsey, a better time to ask that question would be before you take his fucking hand! Christ almighty!

He shakes his head slowly. Kels reaches for the mask.

Oh, damn, damn, damn! She’s gonna do it! I feel my breath hitch as she pulls up on the mask and reveals the face beneath it. It’s a woman! Holy shit! I get it all as the sobbing woman falls into Kelsey’s arms and the police rush in.

They take her into custody, detaching her arms from around Kelsey’s neck and handcuffing them behind her back.

I’ve got every moment of it on tape. I follow them as they take her from the room. Then I turn the camera back on Kels who is sitting at the table with her head down on her crossed arms. I continue to film as I approach her.

She looks up and snarls. "Turn that fucking thing off before I shove it up your ass!"

I do as she says, knowing that Chambers will have her hide for using that language while we were undoubtedly live. Her peaches and cream reputation on-screen won’t last long if people hear much more of that.

She moves past me and out the door. I let her go. Those porcupine quills are up and ready again. Whatever compassion she felt moments before for that distraught mother have not overflowed into our relationship.

I take the camera from my shoulder and set it on the table. I turn to the woman who was with us through all of this. She is leaning against the desk breathing heavily as her nerves settle, it makes her breasts sway in a most pleasing manner. "You willing to give us an interview?"

She nods, as she looks up to me. "Thank you."

"You’re welcome. What’s your name?"

"Marion."

I bite back the chuckle as I place my hand on the small of her back to lead her from the room. Marion the librarian. Fucking priceless! I begin humming "Seventy-six Trombones."

"I get that all the time," she says, raising an eyebrow at me. I think she’s flirting with me. And I love it.

As we exit the room, the police intercept us. After giving them enough information to get them off my back, I realize I have to let them get a statement from Marion. I turn her over to a cop friend of mine in the bunch. He says he’ll bring her to me at the van as soon as he can. Pays to drink with the boys in blue.

I leave the building to find Kelsey leaning against the van, eyes closed, hands splayed against the metal, steadying herself. I lay my camera inside at Jimmy’s feet.

"God, Harper, that was fucking great!" He bounces around the van switching tapes and putting everything together. "You were live from the moment you were talking that to that little girl. Shit! Who knew you could speak Spanish?"

I shrug, "I did. So did my Spanish professor who gave me an ‘A’ in the class."

"Chambers wants you to call in. He wants to Kelsey to go live with a wrap up for a special broadcast. But she refused. He’s ready to strangle her."

"Give me a sec, Olson."

I pull out of the van and go over to Kelsey, laying a hand on her shoulder. "You did great in there."

She looks up and gives me her best dirty look. "Yeah, and I didn’t even need a penlight." Kelsey’s green eyes are weary. "Congratulations, in one day you’ve made me just like you. I didn’t think it was possible."

I shrug, "Oh, you coming out of the closet now?"

"Fuck you. You made me give up my journalistic integrity in there. I’m supposed to report the news, not become it, dammit! You don’t care! You don’t care because you don’t know what it means to be a journalist. You don’t know what it means to have millions of people trust you, and then piss it all away in less than thirty minutes. For ratings! For fucking ratings! I was traded so the station can sell more sports car and beer commercials!" She pushes herself off of the van and stalks away.

"No!" I holler after her. "You used it to save ten kids’ lives. And, guess what, Kelsey, it was worth it! You didn’t piss away any trust in there, Kels. You got that mother to lay it all on the line for you, just because you asked and you were sincere. All of your high-minded principles don’t mean shit if it had ended any other way."

She stops and turns slowly to face me once more. "Don’t feed that line to me."

"Why? Because it’s true?" I smirk. "You can’t handle the truth?" I use my best Nicholson imitation, which is – actually – pretty damn good.