“Ms. Penny Gillespie,” the woman said in her syrupy Southern drawl. “This is my colleague, Herman.”
Herman the cameraman waved nonchalantly, but never took his eye from the camcorder’s viewer or his finger off the Record button.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Stashower growled.
“I understand that the timing appears to be quite awkward for you, Captain Anthony Jerome Stashower,” Penny Gillespie assured him.
“This place is off-limits.”
“That’s not,” the woman stated, “what I was told at the front gate.” She crossed the room with a stroll that was somehow both business and pure class. “I was told, and I have it on the best authority—a Major Frederick Donleavy, who, if memory serves me correctly, holds the position of Fort Benning’s chief public-information officer—that members of the media are allowed to roam the post freely as of this morning. As a gesture of goodwill toward the city that hosts this fort, in light of the post’s last few days of marshal law and general selfishness regarding the problems of others. We can roam freely, except for the restricted areas, of course. Those, I’ve been instructed, are clearly marked and guarded.” She looked around the room with wide eyes. “I found no such warnings or guards on this building or in this very room, Captain Stashower.”
“You’re a member of the media?” Stashower demanded.
“Indeed,” Penny answered. “I am a member in very good standing. I represent Dove TV, a local Christian television station. I have a small show. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. Penny for Your Prayers. The title is somewhat self-aggrandizing, but I assure you I had no choice in the matter. My father can be a very obstinate man when he chooses. I specialize in human interest stories about people who can use the prayers and kindness of others. People who have, in the past, given generously of themselves.”
Megan had heard of the program. Dove TV, with the white dove the station used for its logo, was a local network out of Atlanta and had a considerable fan base among Christian viewers. Penny for Your Prayers was one of the top programs. Looking at the woman now, Megan recognized her as the host.
“We’re very small in comparison to the major networks also represented here today,” Penny said, “but I assure you that we get picked up quite regularly in syndication. Many viewers are interested in receiving a Christian viewpoint on national domestic events that capture headlines. That is quite true these past few days. Especially in light of this singularly unique set of circumstances regarding the disappearances, which Mrs. Gander was attempting to explain to those students when you so rudely burst in and interrupted.”
Megan stood in shock. Stashower’s unannounced arrival was staggering, but coupled with the sudden appearance of a Christian television reporter, events were almost going too fast for her to comprehend.
“I did not burst in,” Stashower objected.
“My dear captain,” Penny said in a crisp and cool voice, “I do remember a time not so very long ago when a man—especially a man wearing the uniform of this country’s military and standing as a symbol of courage and honor and everything that is decent about a man—did not call a lady a liar.”
“I did not—” Stashower caught himself. He ground his teeth. “Perhaps we have a difference of opinion.”
“And I,” Penny told him, stopping in front of him with her cameraman just behind and to the side of her so he could film the confrontation, “I have a very interesting digital recording, Captain. Perhaps I could show this recording to my viewers and have them vote on it. About bursting in or being invited in? Many of my viewers are very big on manners.” She smiled, flashing white teeth that were somehow as threatening as a shark’s. “I could let you know the results in just a short time, I am sure. You and your commanding officer … General Braddock, I believe?”
“Maybe the general will have a word with your station owner,” Stashower said.
Penny gave a mock gasp, put a hand over her heart, and let her jaw drop in astonishment. “Why, I declare. I do think I have been chastised. Or would you say threatened, Herman?”
“Oh, I’d say threatened,” Herman said. “You’ve been threatened before, Penny, and this sounds like one of those times.”
“It must be so hard to come up with original threats,” Penny said. “But I understand your need to do so, Captain.”
A muscle along Stashower’s jaw quivered.
Giving a disapproving shrug and a wave of dismissal, Penny said, “Well then, Captain, certainly threaten away if you feel you must. And you have my blessing to contact my station owner regarding my story if you wish. My father—the station owner—why he keeps an open-door policy. I’m sure you’ll have no problems setting up such a meeting. My father would probably feel up to entertaining your General Braddock as well.”
Despite her anxiety about everything going on and her lack of control over these events, Megan had a hard time not bursting out laughing at Stashower’s inept attempts to extricate himself from the confrontation.
“But I feel I must warn you,” Penny said. “My father, Beauregard P. Gillespie—the Beauregard P. Gillespie of the Atlanta, Georgia, Gillespies—does not always suffer threats in the spirit of good sport in which I am sure your own threat was offered. He may very well insist on a pound of flesh over such an occasion, and he keeps a quite competent legal staff that dotes on him zealously, even when they know he’s being overly sensitive. They would love to see the digital footage Herman has shot of your conversation with me, I do believe.”
Stashower closed his mouth.
“Now,” Penny said, “if you’re through threatening Mrs. Gander, Captain Stashower, I should like very much to ask her for a moment of her time.” She shifted her attention to
