I heard Tessa rummaging through the cupboards in the kitchen. “That you?” I called.
“How could the answer to that question possibly be no?”
I paused.
Good point.
She appeared, crossed the room, and plopped onto the couch.
“Did you have a good night?” I asked.
She shrugged. “You? Was it bad? At the primate place?”
I let my eyes ask her how she knew where I’d been, and she flipped her thumb toward the television. “I saw you on TV.”
“Perfect.”
“It’s all over the news.”
I sighed. “Yeah, well, the media is going to have a field day with this one.”
She’d piled the mail on the coffee table beside her laptop, and I picked up the stack and started shuffling through it as we spoke: the latest issues of Sports Illustrated and Soldier of Fortune, both addressed to Freeman Runnels, the man who was letting us stay in his home for the summer… “Did you thank Detective Warren for the ride?”
“Patrick, I’m not five.”
“I know that.” A handful of sales flyers, a few credit card offers-all for Runnels.
“So, don’t treat me like it. I know when to say please and thank you.”
I looked up and saw that she was giving me an irritated stare.
“I’m just making sure you were polite,” I said.
“I’m the queen of polite.”
I blinked. “You’re the queen of polite?”
A raised eyebrow. “Careful.”
“I’m just saying.”
She laid her book on the couch and stood. “I gotta get to bed.”
“Hey, are you feeling all right?”
“Sure, yeah.” Her tone softened. “I’m just, you know. Worn out, I guess. I have a big day tomorrow.”
Back to the mail again. “I thought you were gonna hang out around here. Read?” Hardly anyone knew we were staying here, so I was surprised to see an official-looking letter addressed to me from a law firm in DC.
“Yeah, I mean, I was thinking I might take the VRE train to the city. Maybe see if I can get a reader’s card for the Library of Congress. I hear they’re pretty cool about giving them out to students. Is that all right?”
The Library of Congress was the biggest library in the world. A bibliophile’s paradise. I knew it was her mandatory mecca for the summer. She’d talked to me earlier about getting a reader’s card to get access to the main reading room, so her request wasn’t a surprise.
As I ripped open the letter I realized I couldn’t think of any good reason not to let her go, except that I didn’t really like the idea of her wandering around the District of Columbia alone.
Ease up. She’s seventeen.
“Sure, that’s fine. I’m teaching most of the day tomorrow anyway.” Then a thought. “I’ll be in class from 8:00 to 11:00, and then from 2:00 until 5:00. I have a meeting in between there, but I should have enough time to sneak to DC, grab lunch, and get back to the Academy. What do you say? Hang out together for lunch?”
You’ll never make it, Pat. Not with the briefing… the drive alone could take you “Lunch.” A slight pause. “Yeah.”
Good.
I’d find a way to make it to DC in time.
After an awkward moment, she headed for her room, but I called after her. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”
She didn’t turn around. “Yeah.”
“I love you,” I said.
Her bedroom door swung open. “You too.”
She went in, clicked it shut.
Yes, definitely spend some time talking tomorrow.
I slipped the envelope’s contents into my hand and scanned the pages.
And felt my throat tighten.
The letter was from a law firm representing Paul Lansing.
He was taking me to court to get custody of his daughter.