In between bites, they discussed what had transpired and what Amanda had in mind.
“I think I might be able to help you,” the attorney said after listening to her story. “Let me make some phone calls and I will be in touch with you. Cell number? I’m assuming you don’t want me calling your home phone?”
He handed her a Mont Blanc pen from his shirt pocket, which she used to scribble her phone number on a napkin. Folding it, she handed both the napkin and the pen back to him. “Just the cell. The quicker the better.”
“I’ll be in touch shortly.”
Amanda was late for school, and the parking lot was nearly full.
She walked through the main hallway, lockers standing erect like a cordon of soldiers welcoming her arrival. She was beginning to piece everything together now and hoped over the next few days she would be able to resolve the final few issues that still confounded her. Her departure from Riley Dwyer’s hospital room, however, still tugged at the back of her mind. Write. Newspaper.
And then it occurred to her that the article Foxworth had shown her might bear some relation to Riley’s attack. But what?
“Hey, Garrett, you got a second?”
Amanda stopped and turned. The hallway was empty save the phalanx of wall lockers and Principal Dan Rugsdale. She noticed he did not look happy and cautiously approached him. He remained motionless beneath the fluorescent lights. Though she had not thought much about the principal in the past, she noticed his determined stare.
“Yes, sir?” she asked sheepishly.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Her principal’s request hung in the air. His eyes were unflinching black marbles.
“Sir, I’m—” she began, only to be interrupted.
“Hi, Dan. I thought you were in North Carolina at that convention.” It was Mr. Dagus to the rescue. Then, before Mr. Rugsdale could answer, he went on, “Amanda, do you have that project I asked you to work on at home the last few days?”
Thinking quickly, she broke the icy staring contest with Rugsdale and looked at Dagus, summoning the best acting skills she could muster.
“I do. That’s why I was late this morning. I appreciate so very much both of you giving me this time to grieve the loss of my father and to finish up my high school experience.”
“Len, I’d like to talk to you when you’re done with Miss Garrett,” Rugsdale said with an irritated edge.
“Sure.”
Dagus or Rugsdale had given her that break because her father had died. She knew she was close to validation, but had never believed she was quite there. Regardless, the majority of the students who had not been so lucky raced to classrooms for the next final exams. Conversely, Amanda's big chore today was to finish the final layout copy of the Venture.
Rugsdale turned and walked toward the administrative offices. Once he had reentered the glass door, Amanda wilted and leaned into her teacher. “Thanks for saving me.”
Dagus caught her and then held her away quickly, as if sizing her up. “No sweat. I know it’s been tough for you lately.”
Amanda stepped back. It was actually good to see him. He had been such a reliable friend and mentor over the past couple of years. She sighed, the stress still overwhelming her. They walked into the classroom together, she following his lead. He sat at his desk and simultaneously pulled down his laptop screen as he crossed his legs. She noticed a small digital camera connected to his laptop.
Amanda sat in the chair across from his desk, laying her book bag on the floor.
“So, how are you managing?”
“Wiped out, you know?” She leaned into her hands with her elbows propped on the desk. Sunlight blared through the open windows, casting huge rectangles on the floor. “You were right. This sort of caught up on me.”
“By ‘this,’ you mean your father’s death?”
She nodded as she stared at him.
“Well, I hope what I said didn’t make it any harder.”
“Please. It sort of woke me up. You’re, like, the only sane person in the entire drama.”
He nodded at her approvingly. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
Amanda couldn’t stop staring at him as she tried to figure out what it was that was bothering her.
“Amanda?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just a space cadet right now. Anyway, looks like someone’s been out in the sun.”
Dagus ran his long fingers across his face.
“Played some hooky and went to the lake. Finals are all done, you know.”
“Fun.” She paused then said, “Can I just go ahead and finish that edit job?”
He smiled at her. “Well, you know where the editing room is, and you know where I’ll be when you’re done. How long do you think it will take you?”
“I don’t know. Couple of hours? You want to check it out when I’m done?”
“I’ll be free about six tonight. You can either leave it on my desk or meet me here, whichever you prefer.”
She pursed her lips, which was her thinking pose. “I’ll just call you.” She paused a second and then said, “By the way, do you mind if I don’t publish that poem about my dad?”
He stared at her a moment, rubbing his chin. “I think that’s a wise move, Amanda. I understood the emotion with which you wrote the piece, but think it makes eminent sense not to publish it in light of what has happened.”
“Thank you.”
He coughed into his hand and then replaced it on his knee. “You know, you’ve matured this past week in many ways. This is just one.”
“You have no idea.” Her words came out louder than she desired, but she was so satisfied that someone had noticed. Maybe she was even glad it was him. “Finally, someone is taking me seriously.” She noticed, not for the first time, his copper-colored eyes that remained fixed on her. They were… consoling.
“I’ve always taken you seriously, Amanda. What are you talking about?”
“You know, just teenager stuff.” She waved her hand dismissively. She needed to move quickly before she embarrassed herself.
She grabbed her backpack and walked into the adjoining room, filled with copy tables, computers, and printers. She shrugged her shoulders once and shook off whatever it was that had initially bothered her.
Suddenly she lifted her head and said to herself, “Rugsdale was in North Carolina?”
CHAPTER 52
“You had no right, Matt,” Rampert said.
“Grow up, General. You’ve been using everyone your entire career. I’ve got your dossier. Don’t think I don’t know about your interrogation activities in the Persian Gulf or your shady dealings with Ballantine. You escaped all of that bullshit, I know, but you walk a fine line.”
Rampert stared at Matt for a moment, his gray crew cut looking like a wire brush.
“You don’t know shit, Garrett.”
“Either we’re on the same team or not. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about what you’ve done in the past but we’ve got a few objectives here that we need to accomplish. I have no doubt that you believe every one of your ends justifies the means you use to accomplish them. So, first, get my brother back. Second, invade Pakistan. Third, kill Dubai and Yemen.”
They had begun calling the two Al Qaeda operatives by the names of the countries they were based in for simplicity.
Rampert’s cheap circular wall clock ticked away. Matt stared at the general, keeping his momentum. He had to keep moving. If he stopped, he would decelerate, which was never good.