Caitlin’s heart told her to believe Glass, but skepticism had been drilled into her from infancy.
“If you need to hold something back,” Jordan said, “then do it. Something special that Henry gave you, maybe. But the rest of it … let it go. That’s the safest thing for your family, too.”
Caitlin thought about the Moleskine notebook she’d discovered outside the burned Beacon building, the Toby Rambin lead, the recording of Katy Royal. “Are you going to tell John you told me that?”
Jordan laughed without humor. “If I ever do manage to get pregnant, I’d prefer to be married, not divorced. So, no, I’m not going to tell him.”
Caitlin rubbed her eyes so hard she saw spots. Then she set her elbows on her knees and gave Glass an unguarded gaze. “When I was thirteen, I worked at one of my father’s newspapers. I saw some photographs there that had just been shot in El Salvador. A massacre by a death squad. A lady who worked at our paper was so proud that a young American woman had shot those pictures. Do you remember who shot them?”
Jordan tapped the coffee table as though bored or frustrated. “Me.”
“Those pictures went a long way toward leading me to where I am now.”
Glass’s smile looked forced. She’d obviously heard this kind of thing a thousand times before. Her eyes focused somewhere in the darkness across the lobby. “I’m not the same person I was then. I’m tired. I’m ready to stop—for a while anyway.” She put her face in her hands and massaged her temples as though to relieve a headache. “I’m not that girl who sneaked into a village and shot those pictures anymore.” She looked up at Caitlin. “But you are. That’s why I gave you that advice. You’re not thinking straight right now, because of what happened. But tomorrow you will be again.”
Caitlin had never felt so validated as she did in that moment.
“John’s not exactly himself right now, either,” Jordan said. “You should know that. When you criticized the Bureau out there, it really hurt him.”
Caitlin shrugged, but she didn’t apologize.
“John knows the Bureau failed all those years ago. It failed the murder victims, the families, even its own agents. He wants to make that right. When he tells you he’s on your side, he means it.”
“He’s gotten a lot done in a short time, I’ll give him that.”
“Thanks to Henry and Penn. And you.”
Caitlin was suddenly nervous. “I haven’t done anything yet. But I’m going to.”
Jordan’s eyebrows rose. “Something you probably shouldn’t be doing?”
“That depends on your point of view.”
“What’s your plan? Just between us and the coffee table? No shit.”
What the hell? Caitlin thought, suddenly realizing that she trusted Jordan Glass more than many people she’d known for years. “I want to find Pooky Wilson’s bones. I think Pooky and Jimmy may have been killed or dumped at the same place.”
“And you know where that is?”
“Maybe. I’ve got a good lead. One nobody else has. Maybe that’s what I’ll keep for myself.”
“Does Penn know what you know?”
“No.”
Jordan smiled in the shadows. “A girl after my own heart. So where are these mysterious bones?”
As badly as Caitlin wanted to confide in her idol, something held her back. While she wondered how to tactfully evade the question, her Treo pinged with a text message. She took it out and entered her privacy code, then saw a message from Jamie Lewis, her editor.
In 1970, Dr. Wilhelm Borgen was indicted for multiple counts of sexual abuse of psychiatric patients at his Texas institute. Crimes date from 1956–1968. Testimony of nurses indicated he used electroshock to erase the memories of his victims. Aborted fetuses of impregnated patients under his care. This story getting sicker by the minute. HURRY BACK!
Caitlin’s heart fluttered. She thought of trying to hide her excitement, but Jordan was far too sensitive to be deceived.
“Everything okay?” Jordan asked in a leading tone.
“Yes.” Caitlin typed a quick response to Jamie, then texted her press operator that he should pick her up out front. “But I think I’ve got to skip saying good-bye to Henry.”
Glass gave her a sisterly smile. “Do what you need to do.”
Caitlin stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. “If you find yourself at loose ends tomorrow morning, come by the Examiner. I might have some work for you.”
“I might do that.” Jordan stood and offered Caitlin her hand.
Instead of shaking it, Caitlin hugged the older woman tight, then stepped back blushing. “Thank you. I mean it.”
“I know. Get going.”
Caitlin hurried to the exit, gave the guard a familiar wave, then darted through the door and ran for her ride.
CHAPTER 85
WHEN THE HOSPITAL security guard recognizes me as the mayor—and Dr. Cage’s son—he not only allows Kirk and me to pass unchallenged into the main building, but also answers my questions about “poor Mr. Royal and his family.” I’m actually a little surprised to find Brody Royal at the hospital after 11 P.M., but given that the administrator has cleared three patient rooms near the ICU for the use of his family (Brody is on the hospital board), the old man is exempt from the usual discomforts of late-night visitors.
I’ve known the way to the ICU ever since I accompanied my father on emergency calls as a kid. Walking up the deserted corridor, I remind Kirk that I want him to stay cool and quiet, and only intervene if any of Royal’s people try to get physical. If they do, he should use the minimum force required to restrain them. I’ve brought Pithy Nolan’s straight razor in my back pocket, but only as a prop to intimidate the old man into thinking I know everything there is to know about him.
Brody’s oldest son, Andy, sees me first, glancing to his left as he passes between the big ICU double doors and a regular room. Andy looks away, then turns angrily back as he makes the connection between Caitlin and me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he challenges.