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“People need to understand there’s a price for standing up. But it can be paid. They need to understand that, too.”
“Okay.”
I’ve become a selling point, Corrie thinks. She sees Kate’s willingness to do this, toseizethis, as a character flaw, but also as a character strength. That it can be both is a new idea for her.
Kate McKay has been called a zealot. She wears the label with pride. On CNN, a pundit accused her of suffering from Joan of Arc Syndrome. Kate’s response: “Joan of Arc heard the voice of God. I hear the voices of oppressed women.”
She asks Corrie if she wants to continue the tour after tonight. Kate says she didn’t want to ask the question in front of the detective.
“Yes, of course.”
“Are you sure? Now that you see what can happen?”
“Yes.”
“Talking about hate is one thing. Seeing it in action—actually experiencing it—that’s a whole other deal. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Subject closed.” Kate produces her phone to take Corrie’s picture. After looking at the screen, she says, “Muss your hair up. Widen your eyes.”
Corrie looks at her, not understanding. Or not wanting to.
“Let’s be honest, Corrie. This isn’t a book tour, the book would do fine if I just sat at home on my ass and watched TV. It’s anideologytour. Otto von Bismarck compared ideology to sausage—you might want to eat it, but you don’t want to see it being made. Well, no. He was actually talking about making laws, but same difference. You’resureyou want to go on with me?”
For an answer she makes Kate’s trademark gesture, both hands out and all fingers beckoning:Come on, bring it. Then she musses up her hair. Kate laughs, snaps a picture, sends it to Corrie’s phone, and tells her what to do with it.
“Then call your parents, hon. They need to hear about this from you before they see it on the news.”
7
She’s in a shop called Cloth & Chroma, doing what Kate asked with the picture (more embarrassed than ever at the result), when Mallory Hughes calls and says they found the wig.Awig, anyway. She sends Corrie a picture. Although the wig is on a plain white background, it brings everything back: the Thermos, the splash, the burn, the sureness that her face was going to melt.
“That’s it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Sure shot.”
“Great. Wigs are DNA mines, unless she was wearing a bathing cap over her real hair. If we get a good result and catch her, a cheek-swab match and game over. Have you called your folks?”
“Yes.”
Her mother wanted her to come home, ASAP. Her father, made of sterner stuff, just told her to be careful. And to get some protection. He said something he’s been telling her all her life:The bastards don’t get to win.
In the background, her mother cried, “It’s notpolitics, Frank, it’s herlife!”
Not politics, ideology, Corrie thinks.
Her father said, “Her life is exactly what I’m talking about.”
8
Kate called from the venue and told her to wear a dress. “Look good, hon. And I’ve got something for you.”
When she gets to the greenroom at the Pioneer Center, Kate looks her over, approves of the belted blue knee-length dress Corrie’s wearing, and gives her a can of pepper spray.
“Tomorrow I’ll get you a gun. Easy-peasy in Nevada.”