Chapter 26
TEARS
Any joy I had been feeling from finding my first real suspect in Don and Amanda's murder quickly evaporated when I heard the news on the radio of a car bomb explosion at DFW Airport. A horrible feeling came over me as I knew Stan was due in from Washington about the time of the explosion. I called Jodie at the office to see if she had heard from him. She hadn't. She told me she'd call me the moment she heard from him. It was only twenty minutes to DFW Airport, so I decided to drive out that way and see what I could find out.
Traffic was snarled going into Terminal A so I drove to Terminal B and took the tram around to Terminal A. There were police and fire personnel everywhere and a good size group of media people was milling around just outside the police perimeter. I walked around the reporters to get a look at the smoking car. My heart sank as I saw Stan's yellow Corvette still smoldering.
There was an ambulance just inside the perimeter so I ducked under the tape and headed for it. A police office ran over and tried to stop me. I ignored him and went straight up to one of the paramedics.
"Sir, what happened to the driver?"
The police officer put his arm on my shoulder and said, "Ma'am. You can't be here."
"That's my partner's car—is he okay?" I asked continuing to ignore the police officer."
"He was still alive when they took him away."
"Where did they take him?"
"Harris Methodist Hospital just up Highway 121 a ways," he said pointing west.
I turned and walked quickly back to the tram. As I was walking, I noticed a well-dressed man watching me. He turned away when I made eye contact with him. As I neared the tram, I looked back and he was watching me again. It occurred to me that this man may have been involved in the bombing and was there to enjoy the chaos he had created. I took the tram one stop and then walked back to observe him. After watching the scene for another ten minutes he went back to his car and left. I noted the make of his car and license number.
It took me about twenty more minutes to get to the hospital. Stan was in the emergency room. I talked to one of the doctors and he said he had a pretty serious concussion and some broken ribs. They were worried about brain damage. About an hour later Rebekah showed up with the kids and her mother and father. I waited with them for several hours. They eventually moved Stan to the ICU. Bart joined the group and we all waited until 11:00 p.m. There was no change and the doctor said he didn't expect anything to happen that night, so everyone left except Rebekah. She wouldn't leave although her mother and father tried to persuade her to. As Bart and I were leaving we were intercepted by a trio of reporters and a cameraman.
"Ms. Waters," A reporter said. "Who do you think tried to kill your partner?"
I shrugged. "I have no idea."
"What's his condition?" another reporter asked.
"He's stable. We're optimistic that he'll be all right."
"Do you think the bombing had anything to do with Jimmy Bennett's trial?" the first reporter asked.
"No, I don't think so," I replied.
"What was your partner working on?" the second reporter asked.
Bart pulled me through the group of reporters and we exited into the parking lot. We made a hasty walk to our cars. Back at home we relaxed and Bart mixed us each a drink. We were exhausted but needed to unwind and sort things out before we went to bed.
"Who do you think would do something like this?" Bart asked.
"I don't know. It's got to be someone connected to Congressman Manning and Continental Exporters. That's what Stan's been investigating in Washington. He's working with the local police and the FBI."
"You'd think they'd provide him a little protection," Bart said.
"I know. Maybe I should call Detective Besch and let him know what happened. . . . Oh, gosh. I forgot about the man in the suit."
"What man?"
"I saw someone suspicious at the airport and I took down his license number."
"Really? Yeah, you better call him."
I went to the telephone and called Detective Besch's pager number. A few moments later the phone rang and I picked it up. He had heard about the car bomb and asked me how Stan was doing. I told him what I knew and then told him about the man in the suit and gave him the car make and license number. He said he'd get right on it.
That night I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned thinking about Stan—wondering if he would be okay. Bart wasn't sleeping too well either. I wondered what was going through his mind. Did he know I was terrified that Stan wouldn't make it? I got up around 3:00 a.m. and called the hospital. The nurse on duty said there was no change. On the way back to bed I ran into Bart.
"Can't sleep?"
"No. I called the hospital. No change."
"Hmm. Want something to eat?"
"Okay," I said.
Bart turned and headed for the kitchen. I followed him and took a seat at the kitchen table. He made a couple sandwiches and got us both a glass of milk. We ate quietly but I could feel Bart's mind whirling. Was he wondering if I'd be as upset if he were in the hospital? Suddenly I started bawling and tears began flowing down my cheek. Bart came over to me, put his arm around me, and hugged me tightly.
"He's gonna be okay, Paula. Don't worry. He'll be okay."