6:34 p.m.
Tessa was in the hospital room alone with Brineesha and Tryphena, who lay sleeping in the bassinet beside the bed.
Ralph and Lien-hua had stepped out to make a few calls. Tony, who’d spent the past two hours there, had left to stay the night at his friend’s house.
Now, as Tessa watched the news with Brineesha, neither of them said a word.
FBI Director Wellington was giving a news conference about the train wreck in Charlotte. The Director didn’t mention names, but Tessa had spoken with Lien-hua before she left the room so she knew about Patrick’s role.
She also knew that her dad was flying back tonight. Lien-hua was planning to pick him up from Dulles at nine.
Tessa had tried calling him twice.
He hadn’t answered.
Director Wellington finished up by fielding some rather pointed questions from the press about the Bureau’s response to the incident.
“Why was the FBI even involved in this?” one reporter asked. “Rather than FEMA?”
“We were in contact with FEMA officials, but counterterrorism is our mission, not theirs. FEMA responds to disasters. We do all we can to stop them.”
They asked her about the culpability of the Bureau in regard to her decision to approve the intentional wrecking of a train carrying hazardous materials through a major metropolitan city, and she noted that the wreck had averted a far greater disaster. “This event resulted in no fatalities and, from all available data, that would not be the case if we had not acted when we did to stop M343.”
Before closing, she accepted one final question: “You’ve announced that you’re running for Virginia’s First District congressional seat next term. How do you think your handling of this situation will impact your political career?”
She replied without hesitation, “There are some things that are more important than a political career. Protecting innocent lives is at the top of that list. Thank you for your time.”
Then she stepped away from the podium, the press conference wrapped up, and Brineesha said to Tessa, “I do believe Director Wellington is going to be known for that quote. Whatever her political career ends up being, that statement is going to stick with her.”
It wasn’t such a bad sentiment to have associated with your name: protecting innocent lives as being more important than a political career.
Tessa was just surprised it’d come from Director Wellington. It sounded more like something Patrick would say.
She tried calling him again.
He didn’t pick up.
Lien-hua returned, invited Tessa out for dinner, and they walked down the street to a Thai place near the hospital.
The construction crew that had been there all day was setting up to work into the night. Under the glare of bright work lights, one of them was hooking up the hose of an industrial-strength pressure washer.
To Tessa, it brought back a bad memory.
She’d helped Patrick pressure wash the back deck and the porch earlier in the summer and knew that, depending on the tip you used at the end of the hose and your proximity, you could score concrete with one of those things.
She’d been wearing flip-flops that day and had made the mistake of getting her left foot under the stream for just an instant. The jet of water had ripped through her skin.
Thank God she hadn’t had the narrow-stream-tip-thing on there. It probably would’ve taken off one of her toes. Grossed her out just thinking about it.
Move past that, girl.
You’re about to eat supper.
Tessa and Lien-hua found a booth in the back of the restaurant, just like she’d done with Beck.
You should be getting used to sitting with your back up against the wall by now.
As those words rolled through her mind, there seemed to be deeper meaning to them, but at the moment she wasn’t quite sure what it was.
After they’d ordered their food, Lien-hua said, “Just so you know, Pat’s going to be on administrative leave when he gets back.”
“For what? Working with Basque?”
Lien-hua looked at her curiously.
“Brineesha and I have been watching the news.”
“They reported about Basque?”
“I pieced a few things together.”
“Well, yes. Your dad is on leave for working with Richard Basque.”
They were both quiet. As the only two women to survive being abducted by that man, they shared a deep, harrowing connection with each other—but it was something neither of them liked to bring up or talk about.
Tessa took a sip of her root beer. “But no one died in the train wreck and, from what they’re saying, that wouldn’t have been the case if they hadn’t acted—if Patrick hadn’t acted.”
“That’s true. Hundreds of people—thousands, actually—were at risk of losing their lives.”
“That should count for something, right?”
Lien-hua seemed to be balancing out how to reply. “Things don’t always count for what they should.”
“So, basically, for Patrick, today both rocked and sucked at the same time.”
“I think that’s not a bad way of putting things.”
The food came. The two of them ate in relative silence, and finally Tessa said, “I haven’t called Beck yet, by the way. I don’t know if I’m going to.”
“Well, if you are, I’d suggest you do so before your dad gets home.”
“Why’s that?”
“Pat’s going to have a lot on his mind.” Lien-hua left it at that.
“Yeah.” Tessa wasn’t sure that really answered her question, but it didn’t seem like the right time to probe. “I guess he will.” Then she asked, “Is my dad going to be okay?”
Lien-hua didn’t answer right away. “Yes. He will. He’ll be okay.”