After two hours on the phone this morning, and with a room full of news managers waiting for me to call, finally my story for the day came through. It was 10:00. A detective at the Thurston County Sheriff's office told me of bold theft at a gas station. The detective explained how the owner of the Olympia area station reported someone had stolen 1,287 gallons of gas. And not just any gas---the good stuff, super unleaded.

In all, the station reported that it lost nearly $4,000. I thought it was interesting, not because of the total loss, but because of how the crime was allegedly committed. The way the detectives figured it, someone must have popped the top of the station's underground tank and pumped out the fuel overnight while the station was closed.

When I called the story in, everyone thought it sounded like a good one. I had the green light. We first stopped by the Thurston County Sheriff's Office to interview a detective who has always seemed very skilled and straightforward---really a fine public servant. The detective pinned the microphone on and carefully detailed the report written by another deputy.

At one point, I asked him something like, "is there any way this might not have been a theft? Could there have been a hole in the tank?" The detective assured me that this was unlikely to be anything but a theft.

It was now about 11:45 and our story seemed as interesting as ever. On our first trip to the gas station, the owner was away. So, his cashier called him up and we talked for a bit over the phone. He wasn't really saying why, but made it clear he was not thrilled about KING-5 doing this story. He said he would not go on camera, but we were free to get video of the property.

The story needed context and some background. So, my photographer Tom Tedford and I, decided to get video of a gas tanker. We figured we could use the tanker to explain how much gas was actually stolen and show how it may have been pumped out of the ground. That's when the day started to get really interesting.

At a local fuel yard, a gas wholesaler who's been in the business awhile was highly skepitcal. He doubted whether the theft had really happened. It would be just so impractical, require a lot of guts and some special equipment. But the detective was so sure...and besides I cover crime all the time that requires the criminals to have a lot of guts. We kept going.

Now it's about 2:15 and we're back at the gas station. The owner has arrived. If he was less than thrilled about the story earlier... he was downright mad about it now. After some cajoling, I figured out the owner was concerned because he wasn't sure his gas actually had been stolen.

I was confused, "What not stolen? But didn't you report to the police that it had been?"

With a detectable note of embarrassment, the owner explained how the "theft" may have been a clerical error. He told Tom and I that one of his employees may have just incorrectly measured the gas and somebody at his station simply recorded the wrong amount in the tank. So when it unexplicably ran out of fuel, they assumed it had been stolen.

The owner practically begged us to save him the embarrassment of reporting a crime that may have never been a crime. Fine. But it was now 2:30 and my story seemed to be evaporating faster than high octane fuel on August pavement.

"Well, didn't he file a police report?" The question from my boss conveyed the same sense of frustration I was feeling. As I told my Executive Producer the situation, I could tell he seemed to agree: this was not the story any of us thought it was.

So even as I am talking to him trying to figure out what we're going to do or not do with the story, I hear him blurt out to the newsroom, "Gas is dead."

My story was officially no longer a story. It was 2:45.

Now what?

My boss had a quick answer in the form of a question, "What do you think about this internet sales tax law that just passed? Can you get to the Capital [and do the story in time for the Five O'clock newscast?]"

"Sure," I said. Even though I wasn't positive that was true.

Finally, we were seated. Representative Jim McIntire took the posture of a politician addressing a reporter. The familiar hum of the camera told me Tom was rolling; our real story for the day was underway.

It was 3:30.