young, so you thought you had to be the protector of the family,
which is why you became a cop. But it also gave you commitment issues, which
is why you’re not married. Can’t get attached to something then have it leave,
now can we? But, you’ve got a live-in boyfriend. Probably has a job where you
don’t see him much. Gives you a chance to stay close, but not too close. What
else? You probably drive some beat up, old, junk-pile of a car because you
don’t think you deserve anything better, which tells me there’s a whole heap of
self-esteem issues buried in there. You’ve left that bum leg alone for the
same reason. Having some doctor fix it—or at least improve it—would take away
the only thing you really like keeping close.”
Mary’s nostrils flared.
“What’s that?”
“That spoonful of self-pity
you swallow every day.”
Mary sat back in her chair,
dumbfounded. “You can tell all of that just by looking at me?” Maybe she was
wrong about him. Within a few seconds, he’d dissected just about every
psychological issue she’d been dealing with her whole life. There was
more—stuff that she kept buried and hidden away from the world like everyone
else—but it wouldn’t surprise her if Chuck could reach down inside her and pull
it out, unraveling the threads of her psyche string by string.
Chuck laughed and glanced
around the room. He patted her arm and said, “Miss Mary, I wish I was that
good. Just pulling your leg a little. The good one, that is. You should’ve
seen the look on your face. Priceless. Never a camera around when you need
it. I got all that from your file, but that’d be a helluva party trick if I could do that, huh?”
“Wait, my file?
You’ve got a file on me ?”
“Trust me, we’ve got a file
on anybody that comes within five feet of The White Mountain.”
***
Mary’s food arrived, but she
was no longer hungry. She picked at a couple of bites as Chuck waited
patiently for her to respond, hands folded in his lap. Subtle smile at one
corner of his mouth. She pushed her bowl away, wondering what she had let
Randall talk her into. She crossed her arms and leaned over the table,
whispering, “Then I suppose you know why I’m here.”
“Yes and no.”
“Is Randall a threat to
national security or something?”
“ National security?
Well, I don’t know about national, per se. This thing he’s involved in, it’s
more a matter of whose security.”
“Senator Kemper?”
Chuck frowned and shook his
head. “Kemper? Why would he be involved?”
“Randall told me this crazy
story about catching Senator Kemper in bed with a transvestite and the
ambassador to South Korea. He thinks that’s why this group of killers is
coming after him.”
Chuck threw his head back and
let out a great, bellowing laugh.
“Why’s that funny?”
“Sorry, it’s just—I can’t
tell you how many people wish that Kemper had something like that in his
closet. But as far as I know, and unfortunately for the gaggle of scumbags
that have been looking for years, Kemper’s one of the cleanest suits we’ve got
walking the halls up here.”
She spat out her next
question. “So you’re saying this has nothing to do with Kemper?”
“It’d be news to me if it
did.”
Mary’s internal temperature
rose as her anger simmered. Not only had Randall lied to her, but she’d been
dumb enough, and trusting enough, to believe him. Why had he lied? Why had he
sent her here with such a ridiculous pretense? To get her out of the way?
She resisted the urge to get
up and hobble out the door, to immediately speed home, find Randall, and punch
him. She was five hours away from being able to help protect her family, or
maybe even further if Randall had lived up to his promise to get them someplace
safe.
And that was supposing there
was some sort of danger to protect them from.
What if the whole goddamn
story
which is why you became a cop. But it also gave you commitment issues, which
is why you’re not married. Can’t get attached to something then have it leave,
now can we? But, you’ve got a live-in boyfriend. Probably has a job where you
don’t see him much. Gives you a chance to stay close, but not too close. What
else? You probably drive some beat up, old, junk-pile of a car because you
don’t think you deserve anything better, which tells me there’s a whole heap of
self-esteem issues buried in there. You’ve left that bum leg alone for the
same reason. Having some doctor fix it—or at least improve it—would take away
the only thing you really like keeping close.”
Mary’s nostrils flared.
“What’s that?”
“That spoonful of self-pity
you swallow every day.”
Mary sat back in her chair,
dumbfounded. “You can tell all of that just by looking at me?” Maybe she was
wrong about him. Within a few seconds, he’d dissected just about every
psychological issue she’d been dealing with her whole life. There was
more—stuff that she kept buried and hidden away from the world like everyone
else—but it wouldn’t surprise her if Chuck could reach down inside her and pull
it out, unraveling the threads of her psyche string by string.
Chuck laughed and glanced
around the room. He patted her arm and said, “Miss Mary, I wish I was that
good. Just pulling your leg a little. The good one, that is. You should’ve
seen the look on your face. Priceless. Never a camera around when you need
it. I got all that from your file, but that’d be a helluva party trick if I could do that, huh?”
“Wait, my file?
You’ve got a file on me ?”
“Trust me, we’ve got a file
on anybody that comes within five feet of The White Mountain.”
***
Mary’s food arrived, but she
was no longer hungry. She picked at a couple of bites as Chuck waited
patiently for her to respond, hands folded in his lap. Subtle smile at one
corner of his mouth. She pushed her bowl away, wondering what she had let
Randall talk her into. She crossed her arms and leaned over the table,
whispering, “Then I suppose you know why I’m here.”
“Yes and no.”
“Is Randall a threat to
national security or something?”
“ National security?
Well, I don’t know about national, per se. This thing he’s involved in, it’s
more a matter of whose security.”
“Senator Kemper?”
Chuck frowned and shook his
head. “Kemper? Why would he be involved?”
“Randall told me this crazy
story about catching Senator Kemper in bed with a transvestite and the
ambassador to South Korea. He thinks that’s why this group of killers is
coming after him.”
Chuck threw his head back and
let out a great, bellowing laugh.
“Why’s that funny?”
“Sorry, it’s just—I can’t
tell you how many people wish that Kemper had something like that in his
closet. But as far as I know, and unfortunately for the gaggle of scumbags
that have been looking for years, Kemper’s one of the cleanest suits we’ve got
walking the halls up here.”
She spat out her next
question. “So you’re saying this has nothing to do with Kemper?”
“It’d be news to me if it
did.”
Mary’s internal temperature
rose as her anger simmered. Not only had Randall lied to her, but she’d been
dumb enough, and trusting enough, to believe him. Why had he lied? Why had he
sent her here with such a ridiculous pretense? To get her out of the way?
She resisted the urge to get
up and hobble out the door, to immediately speed home, find Randall, and punch
him. She was five hours away from being able to help protect her family, or
maybe even further if Randall had lived up to his promise to get them someplace
safe.
And that was supposing there
was some sort of danger to protect them from.
What if the whole goddamn
story
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