“The old guy?”
She noticed he didn’t turn to look at him again. Ellie did, however. She watched the tall, silver-haired gentleman take a seat beside the younger woman who had obviously accompanied him.
“He’s testifying at the hearing.”
“I’ve got a long list of phone calls that you need to return. Where do you want me to start?”
They continued into her office, but she didn’t glance through the papers he had handed her. It was after five PM. She couldn’t think of anyone who couldn’t wait, and Frankie San— No, not San, but Sadowski. She didn’t even recognize the name.
“He said I replied to a letter of his, encouraging him to testify.”
Carter looked up at her and let out a sigh. “We send out a ton of letters.”
“Form letters. It sounded like this was a personal reply.”
“And we send out a lot of those, too.”
He was off-loading a new stack of files and documents onto her desk, sorting as he piled.
“He said he was from Pensacola. My hometown. You’d think I’d remember that, at least.”
Carter was jotting on sticky notes and tacking them to several of the files he was leaving on her desk. She could tell he didn’t care about Frankie Sadowski, but the man was testifying tomorrow. How many people had Sadowski told that she had encouraged him to come forward?
“Find a way to leak to the media that I encouraged one of my constituents affected by Project 112 to tell his story.”
Carter’s head shot up. “You’re not serious?”
“Why not? Those people outside the Capitol are asking that we finally listen to the veterans who were affected.”
“Listening and encouraging are two separate things. You don’t even know what he has to say. What if he sounds like a crackpot?”
“Crackpot?” She smiled at him. It seemed like a strange word for someone his age to use.
“You know what I mean. This old guy probably doesn’t have anything better to do with his time than promote conspiracy theories on the Internet. What if he’s a member of one of those radical groups?”
“He’s here to testify. Senator Quincy wouldn’t have allowed it if he was some radical crackpot. He said his staff vetted every witness, right?”
“I wouldn’t know what Senator Quincy’s staff does or doesn’t do.”
She was getting tired of everyone in D.C. labeling people as radicals simply because they disagreed. There was something about Mr. Sadowski that reminded her of Jimmy Stewart and the roles he played in the old classics like Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. He presented himself to her as a gentleman and that was a rare quality these days, especially in this town.
“You’re always talking about controlling the message, Carter. So find a way to leak something positive. For God’s sake, the man is from my hometown. At least make that connection before the media does or they’ll spin it into something stupid.”
Finally he gave her a reluctant half grin. “Let me see what I can do.”
“Oh, and Carter.” She stopped him as he was heading for the door. “Find the letters.”
“Excuse me?”
“We keep copies of everything in this place.” She pointed to the boxes still stacked in her office: the copies of documents from the DoD. They were supposedly from as far back as the 1950s. “I’d like to see Mr. Sadowski’s letter.”
“Who knows if the guy actually sent you anything.”
“We certainly have a copy of my reply. Find it.”
“It was probably a form letter.”
“Probably. Find it anyway.”
He frowned as he left. Ellie checked her wristwatch. Her fingers grazed the top of the pile he’d stacked neatly. Even the sticky notes poked out at different intervals so that she could read them with only a glance.
Then something struck her. Frankie Sadowski had said he received her reply in July. How was that possible? She didn’t even know about this hearing back then, or at the very least, it hadn’t been on her radar. She didn’t nag Quincy about being a part of it until about a month ago.
Ellie headed out of her office to catch Carter and get his take. She stopped. Then she took two steps back to hide herself against the pillar outside her office.
Carter was on the other side of the lobby talking to Senator Quincy. They were both looking toward the entrance where Mr. Sadowski and his companion were talking to one of the clerks.
Carter whipped out his favorite notepad and started scribbling as Quincy seemed to be dictating. Then he clapped Ellie’s chief of staff on the shoulder, pleased and satisfied. Carter was beaming and nodding. Both men set off in opposite directions.
By the time Quincy passed her office, Ellie was back inside, door closed. She stuffed her briefcase with everything she’d need. On her desk she spread open an innocuous file with a pen and pad beside it. She placed her coffee mug within reach so it looked like she hadn’t left the building. Then she slipped out, heading for the back stairs.
38.