The North Face of the Heart - Dolores Redondo Page 0,163
him a voluminous file in a maroon binder.
“So you’re Agent Stella Tucker, FBI, in command of the operation to safeguard my daughter and grandchildren, which put my son-in-law in the hospital.”
She gave him a firm nod, her hands dutifully clasped behind her back.
“Tell me, Agent Stella Tucker, do you think I’m an idiot?”
Taken aback, Tucker looked at him and felt her smile freeze in place. Emerson’s ears perked up.
“Of course not, sir,” she managed to reply.
“I’m just asking, because you seem to assume I didn’t have Brad Nelson investigated when my daughter started dating him. A faceless man with an unconfirmed identity emerges from a burning building and eventually attracts the attention of a senator’s daughter. Of course I had him investigated! And you know what? Not only did I find he was clean as a whistle, my people confirmed he was a decent man who’d overcome obstacles few people ever have to face. He and I have been on very good terms ever since. Don’t for a moment think I don’t know he’s got a terrible temper; I grant you he’s something of a brute. But so am I, and I respect such men, as long as they’re able to maintain control and direct their energy positively. And he’d done that, for years.
“For years! And then, I don’t know what happened. Maybe it was his job, maybe he just reached his limits. My son-in-law screwed up with my daughter, and that girl’s just as unforgiving as I am. She’s made him pay for it ever since, and that’s fine with me. But I like Nelson, and he likes me. When he saw his life was going to hell, he came to me like a son to a father and asked for my help. He’s been trying to make up for his blowup ever since. He’s been separated from his family for the last eight months and getting anger management counseling. He’s made his pilgrimages to folk healers, psychologists, and psychiatrists, and they’ve put him through the wringer with all kinds of therapies, trying to teach him to control that wicked temper of his.”
Senator Rosenblatt tapped the binder in front of him. “You’ve correlated the dates of his leave requests with family murders all across the country. But he was out in the Texas desert or some equally godforsaken place with a support group every single time, doing therapy sessions to learn to control his anger. I know, because I’ve been paying for them. In this binder I’ve got all the reports on Brad’s progress.”
Tucker’s mouth opened in astonishment until she realized how foolish she must look. She clapped it shut and licked her lips, thinking fast. “Senator, you’re very generous and I admire your big heart. But you need to keep in mind that Brad Nelson was arrested for breaking into the house where your daughter and grandchildren live. He kicked in the back door, sir.” She demonstrated the stance, hands raised before her. “I assure you that your son-in-law intended to shoot his family; he gunned down and almost killed a police officer stationed inside the house. Nobody assaulting a house like that has good intentions.”
The thing that most offended Tucker was Rosenblatt’s response to her earnest explanation. The senator turned to his assistant with an expression of incredulity that showed he thought she was incompetent. He looked back at Tucker, tossed the binder on the table, and addressed her like a clueless adolescent who’d failed to understand a joke. “Brad saw one of your shooters in a black uniform and hood trying to keep out of sight on the upstairs terrace. We all know that the enemies of freedom hate our representative government and especially our freely elected senators. Everybody knows that my family lives here in Tampa. Brad Nelson is an exemplary police officer. He went fully armed into the house, risking his life to defend his family.”
Rosenblatt rose and left without another word.
Agent Tucker felt as if her world had just collapsed. Her head spun. She staggered back and dropped into the armchair.
Ready to black out, she was subjected to more humiliation. The staffer leaned over her before following his boss. “You’re going to be sued. I suggest you hire an attorney.”
Emerson walked out on her as well. “I was against this operation from the start!”
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A HOLDING PATTERN
Charity Hospital, New Orleans
His tongue flickered across his chapped lips, and he found a little blister at the corner of his mouth. His mind was beginning to clear