blast.â He reached for his champagne flute.
âNo, I think he did it.â
Laz looked at me from over the top of his glass before setting it back down. âYou do know that they have who they think did it in custody. The man you just named, Jamal Abdul.â
âI know, Laz, but something is not sitting right with me. I canât put my finger on it but I feel like they have the wrong person. Youâve known me long enough to know that my gut is normally right. I wish I felt differently. Heck, Iâve been trying to feel differently, but this feeling wonât go away. That man I talked toââI shook my headââhe knows something, he did something. Iâm sure of it.â
There. It was out, and now that it was, I didnât feel as crazy as I had when I tried to keep it in.
Laz didnât look convinced. He took another bite of his salad and followed it with a piece of the chicken cordon bleu. âWhat was his name?â
âI donât know.â
âWhere was he from?â
âI donât know.â
âWhat did you talk about?â
âI donât remember.â I shut my eyes and opened them again. âLook, he said, âYouâll know my name soon,â or something like that. He was . . . creepy.â
Laz put his fork down. âAnd yet the bomb has gone off and he has not put his name out there for you or anyone else in the public to know.â
âAnd he said he didnât believe in God. Or, he didnât believe in believing. His words were really bizarre.â
âSienna, I think this has been a traumatic experience for you and, like anybody else would, youâre trying to make sense of what happened. Youâre trying to find a way to make it better, to be the superhero who saves the day. But it happened. Thereâs nothing you could have done to stop it. You did nothing wrong. It was horrible. You survived. Now, we have to heal and move on.â
âLaz, this is eating at me.â I looked down and picked at my plate. âI gave him my card and he called and left a message saying that he wanted to have a conversation with me. Plus, I got a crazy e-mail at three in the morning, and I wholeheartedly believe that it came from him.â
âWhat did it say?â
âUh, the sender was âEverybody Anybody,â or something like that, and had five fun facts about him, or whoever sent it. It said that he didnât like animals or papier-mâché. That he brushed his teeth for a long time and, well, I donât remember. It was weird.â
âAnd possibly random spam, right?â
âI guess. Let me get my phone and Iâll show you. I left it in the nightstand drawer.â
âI know where your phone is. It was ringing and dinging like crazy. I shut it off and put it in my pocket. And Iâm going to hold on to it for a little longer. You need a break. You really need a break. Iâm trying my best to give you one.â
âI know, thanks. Iâm just trying to make sense out of it all.â I shook my head, opened my mouth to say something else, considered demanding my phone back, but fell quiet instead.
âHmm . . . Tell you what, Ms. St. James.â Lazâs easy smile returned. âIâll let my source at Homeland Security know that you were at BWI right before the explosion and that you met a man who made you feel uncomfortable. If there is a need for further investigation, they will make that call. Howâs that?â
I bit my lip, nodded. âThank you. I appreciate it. Iâm not trying to come off as delusional. Iâve just learned to trust my gut, and my gut is telling me something is wrong, that thereâs more to the picture.â
âSienna, it sounds like you met someone who might need mental health treatment. You are a trained clinician, so youâre going to pick up on such things. He has your card and will contact you for an
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