back of the crowd pressed a phone to his ear and held up his hand. “Something’s happening in Dallas,” he shouted. A murmur went through the crowd as reporters began frantically making phone calls and refreshing Twitter. Just like that, her moment was over.
Her lawyer reappeared at her elbow. “I think this means the press conference is over. That was a beautiful speech you made. You should think about going into politics—you’ve got a knack for public speaking.”
Rebecca shook off the suggestion. “I don’t think so.”
Cathy shrugged. “Hey, never say never. I’ve got to take off. I’ve got a hearing in Amarillo this afternoon.” She thrust out her hand. “It was a pleasure working with you.”
Rebecca shook it. “I can’t thank you enough. Honestly, you saved my life in that courtroom.”
“That’s what we women are here for, right? To save each other’s lives.” She reached over and squeezed Rebecca’s shoulder. “Don’t forget what I said about going into politics. If you’re interested, Sisters of Service can help get you connected.” She waved as she set off down the court steps.
Rebecca felt Cait’s arm around her waist. She turned to see Cait beaming up at her. “You were amazing!”
“Thanks. And thank you for setting me up with the lawyer, and . . . well, for everything. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Cait rolled her eyes. “That’s a total lie. You’re stronger than you think, you know. You’re a fucking badass. Now, are you ready to get out of here? The Jeep’s waiting around back, ready to take you wherever you want to go.”
Rebecca let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Let’s go.”
They started making their way down the steps when one of the reporters blocked their path. “Excuse me, Mrs. McRae? We’ve just learned that an abortion clinic in Dallas has been bombed. Could I have your reaction?”
Columbus, Texas—One Day Earlier
Mike loaded the last of the boxes in the back of his truck and clipped the tarp shut tight over the load. He checked his watch. Ten past noon. He was ahead of schedule by a country mile, but he’d been eager to get started.
When Ken first floated the idea, he’d been skeptical. He understood that something drastic needed to be done—he’d read the literature, after all, and watched that documentary Ken had loaned him—but what was being proposed felt extreme even to him. Ken had talked him around to it over time. All the pamphlets and protests in the world weren’t enough to stop the evil happening right under their noses. The courts were changing things, sure enough, but progress was slow and uncertain, and in the meantime, thousands of lives were being lost. Didn’t Mike want to do something to stop it? Didn’t a moment like this require a man to act?
That had really gotten him thinking. How many times had he wished he’d killed the man who had killed his Bonnie? He could still remember the man sitting in that courtroom, sniveling in his cheap suit, pretending to be filled with remorse so the judge would go easy on him. The judge had been fooled, but Mike hadn’t been. The only thing that man had been sorry about was the fact that he’d been caught and was going to prison. He should have gotten a death sentence, in Mike’s opinion, and Mike should have been allowed to do it with his bare hands. Instead, he’d gotten three years in a federal prison out of state, where he was given a bed and fed three square meals a day. How was that justice in anyone’s eyes?
In the end, he agreed to Ken’s plan. It didn’t take much to convince him. He didn’t have much to live for, and if he could use what little time he had left to make a difference . . . well, how could he not agree?
He didn’t ask about the logistics. Ken told him to leave all that to him—said he had a network, whatever that meant. True to his word, he’d turned up at Mike’s place in Columbus a couple of weeks ago with a crate of explosives and a detonator and a full plan of execution. Mike had asked him once over one too many beers if Ken didn’t want to come along, see the action for himself, but Ken shook his head and said, “I’m a family man.” Mike understood that, no questions. There was no better reason for not taking risks with your own life