Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [110]
“Good morning.” Suddenly, lights and cameras were real and all focused on her. Christine tried not to think about it. Ramsey had told her earlier that even ABC’s network news would be broadcasting the segment live. That was, no doubt, why McManus was here instead of the show’s regular host.
“I understand that this morning you’re joining us not as a reporter, but now as a concerned mother. Can you tell us about that, Christine?”
She was intrigued by McManus, the convincing concern manufactured at a moment’s notice. Christine remembered that McManus’s career began as a Miss America, which spiraled her to broadcast news, skipping the field reporting and landing top anchor positions in medium-size markets like Omaha. Christine had to admit, the woman was good. Even as she appeared to be looking at Christine with that genuine, contrived concern, her eyes actually looked just over Christine’s shoulder to the TelePrompTer. Suddenly, Christine realized McManus was waiting for her response, the impatience starting to reveal itself in the pursed lips.
“We think that my son, Timmy, may have been taken yesterday afternoon.” Despite all the distractions, her lip quivered, and Christine resisted the urge to bite down and stop it.
“Oh, how awful.” McManus leaned forward and patted Christine’s folded hands, missing on the third pat and touching her knee instead. McManus snatched her hand back, and Christine wanted to turn to see if the TelePrompTer included gestures. “And the authorities think it’s the same man who brutally murdered Danny Alverez and Matthew Tanner?”
“We don’t know that for sure, but yes, there’s a good possibility.”
“You’re divorced and raising Timmy all by yourself, aren’t you, Christine?”
The question surprised her. “Yes, I am.”
“Both Laura Alverez and Michelle Tanner were single mothers, as well, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, I believe it is.”
“Do you think perhaps the killer is trying to say something by choosing boys who are being raised by their mothers?”
Christine hesitated. “I have no idea.”
“Is your husband involved in raising Timmy?”
“Not very much, no.” She restricted the impatience to her hands wringing in her lap.
“Isn’t it true that you and Timmy haven’t seen your husband since he left you for another woman?”
“He didn’t leave me. We got a divorce.” The impatience bordered on anger. How would any of this help find Timmy?
“Is it possible your husband may have taken Timmy?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so, but there may be a possibility, isn’t there?”
“It’s unlikely.” The lights seemed brighter, scorching hot. A trickle of perspiration ran down her back.
“Has the sheriff’s department contacted your ex-husband?”
“Of course we would contact him if we knew how or where to… Look, don’t you think I would much rather believe that Timmy is with his father than with some madman who carves up little boys?”
“You’re upset. Perhaps we should take a few minutes.” McManus leaned forward again, her brow creased with concern, but this time her hands reached over and poured a glass of water. “We all understand how difficult this must be for you, Christine.” She handed her the glass.
“No, you don’t.” Christine ignored the offer, and McManus became flustered.
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t possibly understand. Even I didn’t understand. I just wanted the story, like you.”
McManus looked around for the stage director, trying to appear casual while frustration clouded her cool exterior. The thin painted lips were pursed tightly over white, even teeth.
“I’m sure you’re under a lot of stress, Christine. And this must also be stressful. Let’s take a commercial break and give you a chance to pull yourself together.”
McManus kept the smile until the camera lights dimmed and the stage director motioned to her. Then the anger erupted on her face with a scowl that cut new lines in her makeup. But the anger was directed