“So I couldn’t back out if I heard something I didn’t like?”
She smiled, adjusted herself into the seat, and crossed her legs. She wasn’t leaving, even if he had no questions for her.
“I’m not sure how much area is affected,” she said, deciding to give him what information she had prepared whether he wanted it or not. “The major slide happened around ten-thirty last night. From what I understand, there’s been at least two more, smaller debris flows. Are you familiar with landslides?”
“A bit.”
She waited for more. He figured, they hired him, they had to know his résumé. If Isabel didn’t know, then she hadn’t done her homework.
When he didn’t offer anything else, she continued, “The region that we’re concerned about is a research facility on five acres. So we have a much smaller search area. The main structure was a two-story brick building.”
“Where was it in the slide? At the top or bottom?”
“They’re telling me it’s close to the middle.”
“How many people?”
“I’m not sure. It was after business hours. We’re still trying to contact the director. We fear that she and some of the staff may have been inside.”
“Has anyone seen what condition the building is in?”
Her eyes left his, trailed down to Bolo, and glanced out the window before they came back.
“A colleague at the scene said he couldn’t find it,” she told him.
“He couldn’t reach it?”
“No, he couldn’t find it. It’s gone, buried under the mud and debris.”
4.
Washington, D.C.
Senator Ellie Delanor followed her aide as the two of them pushed their way through the protesters and up the steps of the Capitol. Of all things, she found herself thinking the next time she hired an aide she needed to seriously consider brawn over brains. Amelia Gonzalez was brilliant and efficient, but at five feet and maybe a hundred pounds, the woman became little more than a distraction and not even close to the defensive force Ellie needed to lead her through this mass of bodies.
At least today’s protesters didn’t shove back, but they didn’t step aside, either. Ellie watched Gonzalez squeeze her tiny frame in between people without creating a hint of a seam for Ellie to follow in. There was no respect in this city, and less if she was recognized as a senator.
But in fact, she noticed these protesters were downright polite compared to what Ellie was used to. She saw that many of them wore patriotic gear and waved miniature flags. They were older than the typical political demonstrators or activists, and as she glanced around at faces, making eye contact with several and giving them a nod as if in agreement, it struck her how they looked like her constituents back home in Florida. Move them to a conference room at a local Holiday Inn and they could easily pass for members of her reelection campaign.
These were her people—veterans in T-shirts and ball caps, mothers and grandmothers, business owners and civic group leaders. They weren’t on the steps of the Capitol to block her entrance. Instead, they were there to remind her of her duties.
It should have been reassuring. It should have invigorated her for the congressional hearings that were slated to start tomorrow. She had fought to be included in them. But it hadn’t been these people or even thoughts of defending them or speaking up for them that had motivated her to be on this committee. It had been all about acquiring political clout and arming herself with positive sound bites to win a reelection campaign that had quickly tightened and become messy.
There was a time when her Colombian-born husband—no, ex-husband. She needed to remember that. She couldn’t chance mixing that up again. There was a time when George Ramos, with his Hollywood good looks and his charms, had been a guaranteed vote-cincher. But now . . .
Thirteen years of marriage. How could she not have known that he was running drugs? Not just running them! For God’s sake, he was the head of a Colombian cartel’s southeastern territory in the United States. His upcoming trial could derail her entire career if she wasn’t able to change the narrative somehow.
She had done everything she could to publicly show that not only had she done the hard and painful thing of seeing to it that her husband—damn it, ex-husband! She had seen to it that her ex-husband—and the father of her two children—had been indicted. There would be no favors, no exceptions, absolutely no help from her during his trial. In fact, she would see to it that he got the harshest sentence possible. As a United States senator, she still had enough influence in her home state to make sure George Ramos paid for his crimes.