Andrew Gross - 15 Seconds

“Or… ? ” Nate asked, looking at her judiciously.

“Or… I don’t know…” Carrie said. “Prove it.”

Her dad cradled his beer again, rotating the bottle. “You know you’ve been through a lot, Carrie. You’ve had things taken from you that none of us should ever have to deal with. You’ve always been a tough little gal, and we’ve all been proud of you… Whatever you’ve done. But are you sure you’re not finding some way to feel”-he hesitated a second as he chose the word-“ important again in some way. Not important…” He frowned at himself. “Maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe I mean attached to something. Or simply alive.”

“I feel plenty alive, Dad,” Carrie said. She looked toward Raef’s bedroom. “I feel about as alive as I need to feel right now.”

“Then you’re boxing yourself into a dangerous place, honey… Between what your conscience says, and what the rest of us would say.”

There was a long-drawn-out silence. He was saying what Carrie pretty much expected him to say. What anyone rational would say. Of course, “rational” wasn’t exactly the operative word in her life lately. And maybe her dad was right-maybe there was just a little need to feel vital again after what had happened to her, and it was this that had opened her a little to Steadman’s pleas.

Then you’ll understand what I’m saying, Carrie. I swear, on my daughter…

But that didn’t change what she now was certain had to be the truth.

“So you’re sure?” Nate brought her back, looking her in the eyes. “You’re one hundred percent sure, Carrie, it was the same car at both scenes?”

“You want to see the photos?” Carrie looked back at him just as firmly.

“No,” he answered, leaning back. “I don’t need to see the photos. Not if you say so, girl. It’s just that… this isn’t gonna go so well for you, as you say, politically, no matter which way it works out.”

“Which way …” Carrie cocked her head quizzically.

“Whether you drop it off on Akers’s desk. Or whether you do what you have to do. To find the truth.”

She stared at him.

Her father winked. “Never let it be said Nate Walsh stood in the way of the truth. Or of his little girl, when she’s got a mind to do something. You’ve got the plate number…” He shrugged. “I don’t think it would be too hard to find a name behind it. I think we both know a federal agent in Atlanta who just might get you an ID on it pretty quick.”

Carrie looked at her father and smiled at him gratefully, the blood rushing back into her face.

“And you damn well better hope they’re not stolen…” He rolled his eyes. “Which they probably are. ’Cause where the hell would that set your case?”

“I know.” Carrie grinned and nodded. “I know.”

“So come on…” He stood up. He reached a hand for her. “Let’s go help your mom clean up…”

She took his hand, and when she got to her feet, she looked into her father’s eyes, his deep, gray, shouldering eyes, and he put his arms around her and she put her head against his chest.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“As long as you know the real reason you’re taking this on, PK? Why you’re putting everything at risk, everything that only a few months back seemed like the world to you. Your position. Your reputation. It’s one thing to keep a secret from the job, something else to keep it from yourself.”

“Because it wasn’t everything, Daddy.” She lifted her head off his chest and looked him in the eyes. She knew exactly why she would do it, though the answer had never come so clearly, nor quite this way. “Rick was! And he would do it. He wouldn’t just let it go. He’d dig for the truth, right? Wouldn’t he, Dad? And right now…” Her eyes glazed up a bit and a tear rolled down her cheek and landed on his golf shirt. “Right now what I want more than anything in the world is to make him proud.”

“He would be proud, honey,” her father said, squeezing her. “He’d have to stand in line to say it, but I promise you, he would be proud.”

“Maryanne…?”

I knew I was taking a chance. I could feel my assistant trying to decide whether to answer. And with all that had come out, I couldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

Finally, she said hesitantly, “Dr. Steadman…?”

“Yeah, Maryanne, it’s me. But please-before you say a word, I don’t want anyone else to know I’m calling. Is that all right?”

“Yes, of course. Doctor…” She lowered her voice. “We’re just all so confused about what’s going on. But I want you to know, no one here believes a word of it. We all know you couldn’t have done those things. We just want to help you prove yourself…”

It was like a warm breeze hearing her say that. To know that the people who actually knew me, who worked with me, didn’t blindly believe what was being said. Maryanne Kunin had been my assistant for fifteen years. I’d been there for her when her husband lost his contracting company and then a condo they owned in Destin went down below their mortgage.

Now she would be there for me.

“Maryanne, listen, I need something from you. It’s important! It’s just that no one else can know. That’s vital. But there’s nothing anyone can do for me right now that can help me more. Can I count on you?”

“Of course, Doctor,” she replied almost as quickly as I had asked her.

“Thank you.” I felt a lump catch in my throat. My voice cracked a little with emotion. “You just have to know, Maryanne, I didn’t do those things they said. Any of them. I-”

“You don’t have to say that to me, Dr. Steadman. Just tell me what you need.”

“Federal Bureau of Investigation,” the operator answered. “Atlanta Office.”

“Jack Walsh, please…”

Carrie took in a breath. She had to admit that she felt some doubts about calling her brother. One side of her hoped he would be out in the field and unable to take her call. Another side told her she was doing the right thing. There had been a Steadman sighting the night before at a motel somewhere in northern Georgia. The night clerk had realized that he’d been there only when she saw the morning news after he had gone. Now the woman was all over the news. Carrie was pretty sure she herself knew where he was heading.

Anyway, she decided, the damage was done already.

The real damage was done the moment she withheld that call.

“Special Agent Walsh.” Her brother picked up the phone.

“Jack…” Carrie said. “Here’s one for you: the CIA, FBI, and LAPD are all trying to prove they’re the best at apprehending dangerous criminals. President Obama devises a test. He releases a rabbit into a forest and tells each of them to catch it.”

She and her brother always started things off with a joke. He said, “Okay…”

“So the CIA goes in, and they embed animal informants throughout the forest. They question all plant and animal witnesses. After three months of extensive investigations, they conclude that rabbits do not exist.”

Jack chuckled.

“The FBI goes in next. After two weeks with no leads, they burn the forest down, killing everything in it, including the rabbit. And they make no apologies. They say the rabbit had it coming!”

He chuckled again.

“Finally, it’s the LAPD’s turn. They come out two hours later with a badly beaten bear. The bear is yelling crazily: ‘Okay, okay… I’m a rabbit! I’m a rabbit! ’ ”

This time her brother laughed.