so that he must have missed one of those thoughtful âUh-huhâs.
â . . . Griffin?â Hayden prompted.
âYes, sir,â Griffin replied.
âI thought Iâd lost you. Damn cell phones arenât anywhere near as reliable as the regular kind.â
âCan I call you back, Senator Hayden? Later today, maybe tomorrow?â
âWell, of course, but I donât want that issue mentioned. I wonât be changing my mind.â
âWeâll talk tomorrow,â Griffin said. He clicked off the phone and proceeded to stare at the television with a morbid fascination that held him glued even when he switched channels. Listening to one live report after another from Concord, he vacillated between disbelief and dismay. By the time the last of the clips ended, with Heather heading for the county seat at West Eames, and with promises of updates by reporters later that day, he was out-and-out furious.
Stabbing at the off button, he tossed the remote aside and snatched up the phone. He punched in his brotherâs number, and, while the phone rang on the other end, paced to the window and looked out over Princetonâs main drag. He saw little of it today, though even in winter he had always thought the view had charm. His thoughts now were on Lake Henry. He hadnât been there in over a month.
Wondering if Randyâthe rat âwas in Lake Henry now, he waited only until his brotherâs answering machine picked up, then ended the call and punched in the cell phone number he had programmed into his phone. After a single ring, his brotherâs voice came through.
âYo.â
âWhere are you?â Griffin asked without preamble.
âRight now? Three blocks from work.â
Not Lake Henry, then. Washington, D.C. Griffin was grateful for that, but not enough to be defused. âIâve been watching TV, this stuff about Heather Malone. Iâm trying to figure out where it came from, and I donât like whatâs coming to mind. Tell me it wasnât you, Randy.â
Randall Hughes, Griffinâs senior by two years, sounded pleased with himself. âIâll give you a clue. Iâm headed into the office for what will be the first of many interviews today.â
âTell me it wasnât you,â Griffin repeated, tense and tight-jawed now, but if Randy sensed his anger, it didnât dampen his spirits.
âDamn right, it was me. Is this cool, or is this cool!â
âGod damn it, Randy. That day in your office, I was thinking out loud. I remarked on a similarity. All I said was I had seen someone who looked a little like that picture on your wall. I never said it was her.â
âThatâs right, and I picked it up from there,â Randy said with pride. âThis is unbelievable. I mean, her face has been starinâ back at the occupant of this office for fifteen fuckinâ years, and thatâs been me for the last fifteen months, and then my own brother gives me the tip. Thatâs how it happens with cases like this. You pound the pavement all you want, but itâs something totally unexpected that points you in the right direction.â
âI didnât point you anywhere,â Griffin insisted, wanting to erase the whole thing, certainly any possible role he had played in it himself. âAll I said was that there was a resemblance. Know how many people look like me in this world? Or like you ? When was the last time someone asked if you were related to Redford? Happened to me again last week. Itâs the jawâthatâs allâthe jaw thatâs square like his, so they ask, but itâs an idle question. They donât honestly think weâre related to the guy. Same with this thing. I just said the picture reminded me of a girl I saw. Did I even say it was in that town?â
âIt didnât take a genius to figure it out. Youâd just come from there. Every other word out of your
Frankie Robertson
Neil Pasricha
Salman Rushdie
RJ Astruc
Kathryn Caskie
Ed Lynskey
Anthony Litton
Bernhard Schlink
Herman Cain
Calista Fox