Paradox (FBI Thriller 22)

He took the blow and nodded. “Yes, I know. It was past time. Thirty years past time.” He straightened. “But I’m here now. I’ll do what I can to help.”

Savich said, “We’re glad you’re here, Congressman. Agent Porto told us Leigh’s godfather and her mother said she’s changed.”

Mellon nodded. “I’d always understood she was slow, perhaps simple, but since I’ve never been part of her life, all I see is the young woman I met this morning for the first time. There seems to be nothing simple about her. As you know, she was struck on the head, had surgery. Both Lulie and Chief Masters say she’s no longer the same person since she woke up. She told her mother her name wasn’t Gunny, it was Leigh, which is indeed her name of record.”

He pulled open the curtain of one of the cubicles, beckoned for someone to come out. Mellon said, “This is Leigh’s mother, Lulie.”

They introduced themselves to Lulie Saks, showed her their creds. She leaned in, her voice almost a whisper. “Agent Porto told me he’d asked you to see her. He said you might understand what has happened to her.” She searched Savich’s face. “It is true, she is different, completely different. I hope you have some idea of why she’d changed. Agent Porto said you were very talented in, well, seeing past the obvious. At understanding people. The doctor didn’t seem to really grasp the situation yesterday. Come in and meet my daughter. She’s been in and out.” Lulie drew a deep breath. “Andrew and I told her he is her father. She’d never met him because neither he nor I wanted his wife and children to suffer from the situation, but now everything’s changed. He came because she’d been hurt.”

Congressman Mellon said, “Lulie is protecting me, and some of it will remain private, though I’m not sure for long. I was selfish, concerned about my father’s threat to stop supporting my political career and afraid to let it be known I had a daughter out of wedlock, afraid of the effect on my wife and my family, too concerned my other children would be scarred from this relationship. But they’re adults now, out on their own. They’ll adjust. When Lulie called to tell me Gunny—Leigh—had been nearly killed on the street, all my excuses were no longer important.” He paused, gave them a big smile. “My daughter’s what’s important now.”

Lulie said, “Needless to say, finding out Andrew is her father came as quite a shock to her. But she took it all in, wanted to know everything.”

He shook his head. “I only hope she’ll come to forgive me, perhaps even someday to accept me.” He laughed. “She didn’t even know I was her congressman. Isn’t that a kick in the ego?”

Lulie gave him a light tap on the arm. “She’ll come to know you, Andrew, and she’ll come to accept what happened. She has a good heart, trust me. It’s time for you to meet her, Agent Savich, Agent Sherlock.” Lulie pulled back the cubicle curtain.

Leigh was awake. Her head hurt, but not too badly anymore, the pain reliever they’d given her still swimming happily in her bloodstream. She was still sort of floating up near the ceiling from the medication, feeling utterly calm, a lovely feeling she knew wouldn’t last. She opened her eyes to see her mom and her—father. Yes, that distinguished man was her father. She was thirty years old and she’d finally met the man who’d had an affair with her mother all those years ago. He’d come when she’d gotten hurt. That said something good about the man who always sent money but never brought himself into her life. He was tall—important for a politician—and handsome, but she hadn’t seen any of herself in him. She didn’t know what to think of him. Yet. She had so many questions, endless questions she wanted to ask both of them. They stood aside, and she watched a big man walk to her. He was several years older than she was, his complexion dark, maybe Mediterranean, his hair and eyes dark as well. He was tough-looking, a man, she knew intuitively, no one would mess with. He smiled down at her, a very nice white-toothed smile, and she felt a jolt. He wasn’t only built, but he was also hot, and she assumed he knew it. Most good-looking guys she’d met in her adult years had known very well their effect on women and exploited it. She gave him a tentative smile in return, then looked beyond him to a tall, slender, very pretty woman about her own age. She looked like a princess, fine-boned, with beautiful curly red hair and fairy-tale blue eyes, wearing no-nonsense black slacks, a white blouse, a black jacket, and low-heeled boots on her feet. This woman wouldn’t suffer fools gladly, any more than the man would. She, too, was smiling at Leigh.

She looked between them, then said matter-of-factly, “You’re married, aren’t you? Who are you?” Was that her voice, all insubstantial and paper thin?

50

* * *

Savich cocked his head at the young woman with her head swathed in a white bandage. Despite the pain meds he knew she was on, he still felt the pull of her. “My name’s Agent Savich, she’s Agent Sherlock. Yes, we’re married. We have a little boy. He’ll be five in September. It’s the first thing out of his mouth whenever he meets someone new. And you’re Ms. Leigh Saks. Agent Porto asked that we come here to speak with you.” Savich took Leigh’s hand between his. He again felt the pull of her. She was looking at him, searching his face, probing. This young woman was considered simple yesterday?

When the FBI agent took one of her hands in his, Leigh felt the warmth and, oddly, utterly safe. She looked up into his dark eyes and felt a different kind of jolt, a kind of recognition, a feeling of connection. “I saw you on TV Monday.”

“You saw me talking about the belt buckle?”

She nodded. “I’m told that’s why I was hit on the head.”

“Could you tell me what happened?”

Leigh felt a flash of pain, but then it fell away. She saw a door trying to open in her mind, knew what was behind that door, but she wasn’t ready to remember it, not yet. She gave her head a slight shake. “Did you meet my father? I just met him myself. I never knew him. Mom never talked about him. But now he’s here, and he promised me we’d see each other from now on.” She closed her eyes a moment, whispered, “Everything seems so very strange. I nearly died, and now I have a father.”

Savich lightly squeezed her hand and felt something he rarely felt—a bond, vague and undefined, but still there. He said only, “Don’t push, Leigh. I know you’re not ready. There’s no rush, all right?”

How could he know she wasn’t ready? Leigh said, “Does your son look like you or like Agent Sherlock?”

Sherlock had taken a position on the other side of Leigh’s bed. She said, her voice calm and easy, “He’s a carbon copy of his father, which I’ve never thought was fair. I mean, I did all the work. You’re very pretty, Ms. Saks. Our son would tell you that you look like a princess within a minute of meeting you.”

“Me, pretty? A princess?” Leigh touched her fingers to the white bandage around her head. “Shall I consider this my crown, then?” She wasn’t aware her mother was staring at her, mouth agape. As for the tall, aristocratic man looking at her, the man who was her father, he was smiling at her, and in that smile, she suddenly saw a flash of herself. But how could she smile back? She didn’t know him any more than she knew these FBI agents. So many questions were swimming around in her head, floating in and out, and an occasional jab of pain where the surgeon had cut into her head, and wasn’t that a gruesome thought? “Mom said my dad came because he heard I was hurt. I wished all my life he’d come, but he never did until now. I thought he was ashamed of me. If so, I can’t blame him. I mean, I was no Einstein, more on a level with Einstein’s dog.”

“No,” Mellon said, “that wasn’t it at all.”

“Good, I’m very glad to hear it. Since you’re a politician, I imagine you can explain why you never recognized me, but I’m hoping you won’t feel

the need. I don’t want any more mysteries, any more uncertainties, any more half-truths. There are so many now I feel like I’m drowning. Isn’t my mom beautiful, though? She’s the best baker in Haggersville. Oh goodness, sorry for going on like that, even though it’s true. The nurse said the medicine would make my brain squirrelly or maybe like a hamster who’s fallen off his wheel.”

“Your brain is functioning beautifully,” Sherlock said. “It’s tough recovering from surgery. I know. Now, you have some pain and you’re tired, so please tell us to leave when you want to go to sleep, all right?”

Leigh gave a little nod. “So far, so good. Of course, you have questions for me, questions are everywhere, aren’t they, bubbling around in my brain. But maybe I can answer yours.”

Savich said, “Leigh, you said you saw me on TV Monday. Do you remember I asked anyone who could identify the Star of David belt buckle to call our hotline?”

“Yes, I remember, and I did call eventually. But that didn’t end well, did it? I believe I managed to tell the man on the hotline it was Mr. Henry’s belt buckle and it was a secret, but I don’t know if it was of any real help. And help with what exactly, I’d like to know?”