The Survivors Read Online Free PDF Page A

name. Henderson.” He put his big hand on my knee. “We’ve adopted you, Davie. You understand what that means?”
    I nodded but couldn’t look at him. He wanted something, confirmation I was happy, I guess. I just stared out the window.
    He gave my knee a pat and backed the car around. Renee said, “You’ve got a great room in our new house. You can see woods and a park and—”
    â€œI want to be called Cal,” I blurted out. I felt tears on my face. “Can I?”
    Jim smiled over his shoulder at me, and I knew, in an instant, so much was going to be all right. “Cal Henderson. What do you think Renee?”
    â€œI think it’s perfect.”

    I snapped up straight in my seat. We were pulling into a station; I had no idea where.
    A Metro conductor breezed past me. “The train is going out of service, sir.”
    â€œSure, sorry.”
    I hurried out the door. Damn, I’d gone all the way to Shady Grove. I checked my watch. Damn again, I was going to be late getting back to the office. I jogged up the escalator and around to the other platform. The schedule board said I’d have to wait six minutes for the southbound train. Just as well. I needed to make a phone call.
    Felix Martinez would have cursed if he heard me call him “my therapist.” He always used the term “shrink,” and besides, he thought of us as business partners—who sometimes talked about serious stuff.
    I had the phone out before I realized it was Monday. Felix had strict rules about working in his garden. He wouldn’t answer until he was done for the day. He might check a text message, though. I brought up the screen and typed:
    Felix—Need to see you. Had an episode today. Free later?
    In less than a minute, I had his reply.
    Crap. 6:00.

THREE
    I made it back to my office at five minutes after four. Denton Rivlin was waiting in the reception area, and Tori was at her desk. From the wide-eyed look she gave me, something was obviously wrong.
    â€œCongressman, I’m sorry I’m late.”
    Tori nodded behind me.
    A man and woman were sitting there. My first impression was how alike their clothes were, bland blue suits, exactly the same shade. All similarities ended there. He was short and heavily muscled. His head was dark and very round and shaved so cleanly it reflected the overhead lights in a ring like a halo. She was a strawberry blonde, willowy, with fair skin and vivid dark-blue eyes.
    He stood up. “Dr. Henderson?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWe need to speak to you. Can we step into your office?”
    The woman could read my confusion, and she held up an ID. “We’re with the FBI.”
    I motioned to see the ID, but that was just buying time while I got over my surprise. I’d been in this office two years and never had a visit from anyone official, certainly nobody carrying a badge. “What do you want?”
    â€œLet’s go into your office,” the man said. His tone was friendly enough, but firm, wanting no arguments.
    Tori was looking sideways at Denton Rivlin, who had his nose buried in an old Time magazine. His hands were trembling slightly.
    Denton had served seven terms in Congress and wasn’t seeking reelection. He claimed he’d gotten sick of the party squabbling, but actually he was getting out of town a step ahead of the House Ethics Committee. He’d come to me to deal with the stress from the circling vultures and to figure out what he was going to do with his life back home in Valparaiso, Indiana. I’d seen enough of him to know he had a pretty overblown sense of guilt. He must have been there when the two FBI agents showed up and identified themselves.
    â€œI have a session scheduled,” I said. “I’m afraid unless you explain why you’re here—”
    The woman stood up. She had a remarkably warm smile, instant-on, a thousand watts. “It won’t take long. It