“Listen to yourself. Twenty-nine died inside the Alagara, including your sister, brother-in-law, and nephew. Including Jane, eight law enforcement officers were killed in the secondary explosion, and a Las Vegas Metro deputy commander was left paraplegic, but you’re indignant about a guy who sat in a blacked-out trailer with the US Capitol on his target screen. If we didn’t look hard at him, we wouldn’t be doing our jobs.”
“I’ve read everything that came from the Air Force Office of Special Investigations and the DOD. There’s nothing there.”
“We’re done here.”
Venuti pointed a finger at my chest.
“Beatty washed out after sitting in a lounge chair, flying drones for seven years. He should have gotten back on his feet a long time ago. The reason he didn’t is he has psychological issues, including extreme animosity toward his former employer, which happens to be the United States. I can’t do this with you, Grale. I don’t mean to cut you off, and I can’t imagine what you’re feeling today, but I can’t do this right now. With everything else, I just can’t.”
Throughout the afternoon, the story evolved on the Kandahar Warrant Officer Lansing Guthrie. Guthrie stoked the press by communicating through his lawyer that he had sold the explosives to an Afghan warlord to battle the Taliban after Obama pulled the troops out of Afghanistan. He did it for America. Some of the media loved that angle, one major TV station in particular, and, of course, various wing nut radio hosts in the desert.
At 2:30 p.m., I drove to the hospital and at the nurse’s station was told, “Julia’s grandmother is with her right now, sir.”
“It must be somebody else. Her grandparents are dead.”
The nurse hovered while I went in to resolve who the “grandmother” was. I was very grateful that a couple who were neighbors of the Kerns had sat with Julia yesterday. That’s who was there. Patricia Hunt, the neighbor, was in a chair reading a magazine. Near her were pound cake, pretzels, and a cup of coffee. It looked like she’d been there awhile. I couldn’t remember her husband’s name until I shook her hand. I thanked her for all she and Charlie, her husband, had done.
“We’ve been here as much as we can. Charlie has gone home to get some sleep, but he’ll be back tonight. We haven’t seen you at all.”
“I’m doing what I can.”
She looked long-faced and disapproving, and then just laid it out there as I moved to Julia’s bedside.
“What is it you’re doing that’s more important?”
“I’m working on things I can’t leave alone right now. Let me spend some time with my niece, if that’s all right.”
Julia was weaker than I’d expected, but she’d passed strength and motor tests on both sides of her body earlier in the day, so that was good. A doctor stopped in soon after and communicated that she wanted to talk outside in the corridor.
“She’s withdrawn,” the doctor said, “but she also has painkillers in her that could exacerbate those feelings. The back of her legs, her ear, and her back are very sore today, not so much from surgery as tissue trauma from the initial injury. And we need to talk about her ear. There’ll be a decision this afternoon about whether she needs another surgery. We’ll need to be able to reach you. Or would you rather her grandparents make the decision?”
“Her grandparents are dead. These are neighbors. Call me regarding anything to do with her health.”
“I must have misunderstood.” She paused on that, then said, “Try to be here as much as you can.”
“What about her spinal cord?”
“So far, so good, but we’re still waiting.”
I sat with Julia, and while I was there she texted several of her friends about coming to see her. I also realized as she scrolled through her phone that she didn’t have my number. I gave her all the ways to reach me, and she entered those in her phone. But I couldn’t do anything for her grief and was disturbed by the encounter with the neighbor. I told Julia I’d try to get back by tonight.
In the hallway I ran into Patricia again, who told me the Kerns’ dog, Coal, was now at their house. “He’s very happy there. Charlie moved him over today.”
“Thank you. Are you okay having him with you for several days?”
“We think ours should be his new home.”
“He’s going to keep on being Julia’s dog.”
“We have lots to talk about,” she said with peculiar brightness. “We had a number of very good conversations with Jim and Melissa. We were very close to them, and in these hard times we have to rise to do the Lord’s work. What is it you do, Mr. Grale?”
“I work for the government.”
“My father worked for the government. He was a postman, but he would have found the time to be here in this moment of need. God calls us. We have to answer when we’re called. Are you married?”
“Not anymore.”
“You’re divorced?”
“No.”
We did this for several minutes, during which I took a longer look at her. Sturdy chin, a rock-solid certainty in her blue-gray eyes, hair long and braided as though she were a young girl.
I said, “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Patricia, but I’m her only remaining family. Do you understand?”
“Melissa came to me last night.”
I had no answer for that and left her in the hallway.
17