“Yes, I’m sure. I have to say, your testimony at the Sito trial really threw him for a loop. It threw all of us for a loop.”
“So I gathered.”
“But it’s water under the bridge, I’m sure.”
“Lots of water.”
“You’re one of the good guys now. Isn’t that right?”
If he was going to kill her, she wished he’d get it over with, since the conversation was making her nervous. Her stomach was churning. She wondered if she could throw up on him.
“I’m just trying to get through the day, like everyone else.”
“Ah. Well. So far so good.”
She reached to the bedside call button and buzzed for the nurse.
He didn’t react, didn’t flinch at all. His face was in shadow, his expression distorted. He might have been smiling, wincing, snarling. The tone of it slipped and transformed.
A woman in a nurse’s uniform appeared in the doorway. “Ms. West, are you all right?”
“I feel a little dizzy. The doctor said I should call if I feel dizzy.”
The nurse turned on the room’s light. Paulson’s expression was perfectly neutral. Perhaps a little concerned. Maybe he was here for exactly the reason he said, doing his mayoral duty and visiting the hero of the hour.
The nurse said to Paulson, “Sir, I’m sorry, maybe you should come visit another time.” She turned to Celia and efficiently embarked on a series of tests, shining lights in her eyes, listening to her heart, taking her temperature.
“Of course,” Paulson said. “Once again, Ms. West, on behalf of the city, thank you.”
He left, and only then did Celia, slumped back against her pillow, really feel dizzy.
TWENTY-TWO
WHEN Suzanne insisted that Celia stay come stay in West Plaza when she was released from the hospital the next morning, she relented.
The West Corp limo picked her up that morning. Her father rode with her—bodyguard. For the first time in recent memory, she felt safer with him near.
She still couldn’t think of anything to say to him, though the information about the Leyden Industrial Park burned a hole in her attaché case. Telling him everything had seemed like a great idea when she was almost dead. Now that she was sitting next to him? Later, she’d tell him later. When she had all the pieces.
Her father’s cell phone rang. He answered, then relaxed, which meant it was probably Suzanne calling. “Really? What channel … okay.”
Warren turned on the TV in the back of the limo.
The scene was the City Hall press room, with its familiar podium and flags in the background. The place was crammed with reporters and TV cameras. Mayor Paulson was just arriving at the podium, looking grim and determined. Beside the network logo in the bottom corner, a graphic announced “Live.”
Paulson launched in on his speech. “I have made a pledge to protect this city. I have pledged to make our streets safe. It is my heartbreaking regret to recognize how far I have to go to make that pledge a reality. Thousands of the city’s residents depend on the bus system to carry them to work, to carry them home again. The buses are the arteries that hold the lifeblood of Commerce City. I fear that yesterday’s tragedy has eroded confidence in our transportation system, just as other recent events have made people afraid to venture out to our museums, our concert halls, our gardens. We fear that nothing in this city is safe, that nothing is sacred.
“I aim to change that. I aim to once again make our city a place we can be proud of, a place we can feel safe in. It is with that goal in mind that I have taken the drastic step of declaring a state of emergency. Until the masterminds of these plots are taken into custody, until every last member of these gangs is caught, this city is under curfew. All law enforcement officials will be working overtime. All city resources will be directed toward making sure this sort of thing never happens again. Thank you.”
For all the chaos that the recent spate of criminal activity had caused, none of the incidents had been deadly. That had changed now. Six people had died on the bus: the driver, the man who’d been shot, and four in the crash. A couple of the injuries were critical, so the number could go up. The police assured Celia that if the bus had gone into the water, that number would have been much higher. They really did want to give her a medal.
Paulson didn’t linger to answer questions. An aide stayed behind to announce specific measures involved in the state of emergency declaration: a curfew, a requirement of all residents to carry identification and proof of employment, such as a recent pay stub, while traveling to work. All events where large groups of people would gather were canceled.
The news report continued with talking-heads commentary and man-on-the-street interviews. Public opinion seemed to support the mayor’s declaration. News had leaked about the breathing equipment under the front seat, which turned the incident from a random act of violence into a terrorist act. Another mastermind seemed to be laying siege to the city; the Destructor’s days of terror had returned.
Warren was a short breath away from a rage when the limo pulled into the West Plaza parking garage. Celia was almost afraid to move.
“Twenty-five years,” Warren muttered. “Half my life I’ve been protecting this city. Do I get any credit at all?”