“Would it rip it from the body like that?” Jason asked.
Dirt and dried blood prevented O’Dell from examining the dismembered area. All she could be sure of was that it hadn’t been cut clean.
“You said earlier that landslides can tear a body apart,” she reminded Jason.
“It’s just that it looks like the poor bastard was hanging on to something for dear life.”
She couldn’t argue that point.
“Coyotes won’t eat fresh meat,” Ross said.
“Excuse me?” O’Dell thought she might have heard him wrong.
“They’ll usually leave it for days, maybe even a week, sort of let it ripen. I guess it’s easier on their digestive systems. Probably why they left it.”
It confirmed what O’Dell already believed—that whatever had happened to these men must have occurred just before the landslide.
36.
Washington, D.C.
Mr. Sadowski.” A young woman came out of the conference room and crossed the lobby to where Frankie and his daughter had taken up vigil.
She was the first person to pay any attention to them all afternoon. They’d been sitting waiting, taking a break only for a couple of sandwiches and mediocre coffee.
“So sorry, they won’t be getting to you today.”
“What do you mean?” Susan asked. “We’ve waited all day.”
“I know, I know. Some of the experts’ testimony ran long. They’ll probably be ready for you first thing tomorrow morning.”
The woman was the same clerk who had told Frankie he needed to be ready first thing that morning.
“Are you sure?” Susan was more annoyed than Frankie, and he hated that he’d brought her there to sit and waste her time. “Because if it isn’t going to be until afternoon—”
“No, no, I’m sure it’ll be sometime in the morning.”
“But probably not first thing.”
As his daughter bickered with the clerk, Frankie noticed the senators and others leaving the chamber where the hearings had been.
“I’ll be right back,” he told Susan as he wandered over closer.
He knew his own state senator was part of this committee. He was a volunteer for her reelection campaign. He’d met her briefly at a rally a few years ago in Pensacola, though he didn’t expect her to recognize him.
When she came out of the chamber door, he called to her, “Senator Delanor.”
Hat in hand, he approached her slowly. She smiled, but it was a tight, controlled effort to not keep walking. In this lobby she had to know he wouldn’t be there unless he’d passed through security.
“I’m Frankie Sadowski,” he said, offering his hand. “From Pensacola.”
She shook his hand, but her eyes were darting around as if she were looking for someone to rescue her, some excuse to pull her away.
“You responded to a letter of mine back in July,” he told her. “You encouraged me to testify.”
He watched to see some recollection take place, but it never did. Now he was a bit embarrassed. Had the reply been written by one of her staff and placed with a stack of others simply for her signature?
“I’m glad to see you here,” she said. “This committee certainly needs to hear stories like yours.”
“Senator Delanor,” someone called from behind Frankie, “I have someone waiting for you.”
Frankie saw the relief on her face before she could hide it.
“If you’ll excuse me.” She hesitated, as if trying to remember his name, then suddenly decided it wasn’t necessary. “I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow.”
He turned to watch her join the man who was waiting to deliver several folded messages and a tall cup of coffee. He was obviously one of her staff members. She called him Carter. He had a headset over his neatly styled hair so he could talk on his phone without his hands, and from the way he chattered nonstop it looked like he was filling her in on a long list of things.
Frankie started to walk away when he noticed two men in dress blues who had just come out of the doors to the hearing room. One man was young, the other old, perhaps even older than Frankie, with wisps of white hair and stooped shoulders. They stopped to talk to another young man dressed in khakis and a leather bomber jacket. There was something so familiar about this man in the leather jacket despite the distance of fifty feet or more. Then the man looked over his shoulder. His eyes caught Frankie’s before he turned away. He said something to the men and left.
Frankie stopped in his tracks and stared at the man, certain now, recognizing the clipped, confident gait. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and a knot twist in his gut. It was the same man who had warned Frankie about testifying. And he was here with military men who had been a part of the hearings.
What in the world was going on?
37.
Ellie waited until they were clearly out of earshot before she asked Carter, “Did you recognize that man?”