Free Valley of the Shadow by Tom Pawlik Page B

from his conversation with Henry Brandt. He’d never known the man to be that closed-minded before. Or that quick to pass judgment. Henry didn’t care about the proof Conner could have provided for his experience. Instead, he’d simply predetermined that Conner was mentally unstable, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen during his heart attack. “Get your head right,” indeed!
        Conner had collected his things and made a quick exit, not even giving an explanation to Nancy, who had just gotten him a fresh mug of coffee. Let her talk to Henry if she wanted to know details.
        Conner sighed and rolled his neck. He knew he couldn’t afford to get too worked up about this. If they wanted to peg him as a fanatic—what was the term Henry had used? Zealot —then so be it. He’d take the two weeks. And maybe find another job.
        But he didn’t want to go home just yet. Marta was still at work, and the last thing he wanted to do was dodder around the house like an old retiree.
        So he found himself loitering in Walter Kent’s neighborhood. Again. He’d done so on several occasions during the past two months. He had tried to make phone contact initially but was quickly turned away by Kent’s assistant. Apparently the former congressman was fighting his own battle with cancer and couldn’t be bothered with lawyers.
        Mitch had neglected to share that bit of information with him—that his father had cancer. It explained a lot, though. It was probably what had prompted Kent to call Mitch that night. To make amends, patch things up.
        Conner shook his head. What must have been going through Mitch’s mind? Hating your father for so long, only to have him call to tell you he has cancer?
        It also explained why Mitch was as surly as he was. Probably the guy was normally happy and fun-loving. But he’d been dealing with all these other issues.
        All the more reason to make contact with Kent. This had to be the reason God had brought Conner back. To help bridge the gap between Mitch and his father. To convince Walter Kent not to give up hope. And to save Mitch’s life.
        Conner took a breath and pulled up the winding driveway. It wove between a few trees and circled a fountain at the front entrance. Conner got out and stared up at the imposing stone archway. He went to the front doors and rang the bell. He could hear a chime ringing inside.
        After several seconds, an attractive woman opened the door. She looked to be in her thirties and was very businesslike in a black, knee-length skirt and white blouse, hair up in a bun, and black-framed glasses.
        Conner was caught momentarily off guard. If this was the assistant he’d spoken with—argued with—over the phone these past weeks, she was younger than he’d expected. “Uh… yes, I was wondering if I could see Mr. Kent. Just very briefly. It’s extremely important.”
        The woman wrinkled her nose, as if smelling an unpleasant odor. “Umm . . . A, no one can see the congressman without an appointment, and B, we’re not making any appointments at this time.”
        Conner smiled, trying to seem personal and professional at the same time. “I completely understand, and I would have gone through the normal procedures to see Congressman Kent, but this is a personal matter concerning his son, Mitch.”
        She sighed deeply and pursed her lips. “Are you that lawyer? I told you Mr. Kent does not wish to discuss his son’s condition with you.”
        Conner nodded. “Yeah, see, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I don’t wish to discuss any legal issues. I’m not here on business. As I mentioned, I know Mitch personally and wanted to speak with his father. I talked to Mitch on the night of his accident. I know they’ve had personal issues and I just want to try to help.”
        “Mr . . . Hagmen, is it?”
        “Hayden.”
        “Mr. Hayden, the