TOTAL CONTROL By: David Baldacci

Ray Jackson nervously played with his coffee cup while he looked over at

his partner. “Ms. Archer, Lee and I both have families. I can’t

imagine what you’re going through right now. You gotta understand we’re

just trying to do our job. A lot of things don’t make sense right now.

But one thing is for certain. A planeload of people are dead and

whoever is responsible for that is gonna pay.”

Sidney stood up again on unsteady legs, the tears now pouring.

Her voice was shrill, near hysterical, her eyes blazing. “Don’t you

think I know that? I went down … there. To that … that hell!”

Her voice rose to an even higher pitch, the tears streaming down the

front of her blouse, her eyes at their widest. “I saw it.” She stared

fiercely at them. “Everything. The… the shoe… a baby’s shoe.”

Moaning, Sidney fell back into her chair, the sobs wracking her frame to

such a degree that it looked as though her back would erupt like a

volcano spewing forth far more misery than human beings had the ability

to endure.

Jackson rose to get her a paper towel.

Sighing quietly, Sawyer put his hand on Sidney’s and gripped it in a

gentle squeeze. The baby’s shoe. The one he had held in his hand, and

also shed tears over. For the first time he noted Sidney’s engagement

ring and wedding band. A beautiful if small setting, she would have

worn it all these years with pride, he was certain of that. Whether

Jason Archer had done anything wrong or not, he had a woman who loved

him, believed in him. Sawyer felt himself starting to hope that Jason

would turn out to be innocent, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

He did not want Sidney to have ro confront the reality of betrayal. He

wrapped a big arm around her shoulders.

His body seemed to jerk and pitch with every convulsion that raced

through her. He whispered soothing words into her ear, trying

desperately to get her to come around. For a very brief instant his

memory skipped back to the time he had held another young woman like

this. That catastrophe had been a prom date gone terribly bad. It had

been one of the few times he had actually been there for one of his

kids. It had felt wonderful to wrap his burly arms around the small,

quaking form, letting her hurt, her embarrassment, siphon off into him.

Sawyer refocused on Sidney Archer. She had been hurt enough, he

decided. The raw pain he was holding on to right now was not capable of

being fabricated. Regardless of anything else, Sidney Archer was

telling them the truth, or at least most of it. As if sensing his

thoughts, her grip tightened on his hand.

Jackson handed him the wet paper towel. Sawyer did not see his

partner’s worried look as Jackson watched the gentle way in which he

slowly brought Sidney around. The things Sawyer said to her, to calm

her down, the way he kept his arms protectively around her.

Ray Jackson was clearly not happy with his partner right now.

A few minutes later Sidney was sitting in front of a fire that Jackson

had quickly prepared in the living room fireplace. The warmth felt

good. When Sawyer looked out the broad picture window he noticed that

it was snowing again. He looked around the room and his eyes settled on

the fireplace mantel, where a procession of framed photographs held

forth: Jason Archer, looking anything but a participant in one of the

most horrendous crimes ever committed; Amy Archer, as pretty a little

girl as Sawyer had ever seen; and Sidney Archer, beautiful and

enchanting. A picture-perfect family, at least on the surface. Sawyer

had spent the last twenty-five years of his life constantly probing

beneath the surface. He looked forward to the day when he would not

have to do that. To the time when delving into the motives and

circumstances that turned human beings into monsters would be someone

else’s job. Today, though, that duty was his. He turned his gaze from

the photo to the real thing.

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