Page 50 of The Fourth Option
“I spend most of my time in the Pacific Northwest. I like it up there.”
Leigh Ann sat in a padded chair on one side of the swing-out table in the van’s main space while Walker sat opposite on the fold-down couch atop his cache of weapons. Paladin stayed in the passenger seat up front, nose protruding around the side.
“Who was that guy in the suit you were talking with?”
“Hospital administrator. He was a little upset with me.”
“Why?”
“Well, as you saw, the DA was here.”
“Isaacson?”
“That’s her. People here call her Icy.”
“Icy?”
“Nickname, based on her initials. I think she likes it. She’s made her mark in local politics and is now taking the next step. Her father was a judge, then mayor. She was a prosecutor who went to work in Washington, then came back to New Orleans to run for DA. I’ll bet she’s going to be our next governor.
“The kids that came in were from Chalmette, downriver, outside Orleans Parish. Icy’s rise to prominence is tied to reducing the murder rate here in the city. She’s campaigning on the idea that she’ll work her magic outside it in the rest of the state too.
“In fairness, she didn’t stand around wounded kids. She interviewed the hospital staff. After all the noise made about the abandonment of hospitals during Katrina’s long flood stage, hospitals are a regular route for politicians.”
“What happened?”
“She wanted to speak to some of the staff. That’s one of the things that they do. It shows they really care.”
“Like a general sitting down with privates and sergeants at the mess hall in Afghanistan to get the ‘ground truth.’?”
“Similar, I’d think.”
“Only to go back in front of Congress to say the same things as every other flag officer. Politicians. Sorry, you were saying?”
“She took a private audience with a group of nurses in the break room to discuss the gang shooting and some more general health-care-related issues. I scratched out a note as she was fielding questions.”
“A note?”
“It seemed like an opening, an opportunity to let her know about Connor.”
Walker raised his eyebrows. “What did you say?”
“Just that I had questions about my son’s case and suspected police involvement. I gave it to her as she was leaving. I told her it concerned my son’s murder and asked her to please read it as soon as she could.”
“How did she respond?”
“She handled it like a politician. She’s smooth. She said she was so sorry for my loss and that she would read it.”
“You believe her?”
“Who knows, but I had to do it.”
The pager clipped to Leigh Ann’s scrubs buzzed.
“I’ve got to go but I’m off tomorrow. How about you stop by the house for dinner, and we can go over next steps? And I can try to convince you to stay in the guest room, as nice as this van is.”
Her pager buzzed again.
“See you tomorrow,” she said as she reached over and pulled the handle on the sliding door.
