The Speed of Sound (Speed of Sound Thrillers #1)(13)
“Then I will be on time.”
He looked at her without emotion. “I will, too.”
As Skylar and Fenton walked away from Eddie’s room, her expression was the same one that most people had after first meeting him. Dr. Fenton glanced at her. “That was a big deal, you know.”
“What was?”
“For him to invite you to his lecture. It usually takes Eddie quite a while before he feels comfortable enough with someone new to share his work with them.”
“Why did he want to know what I was feeling?”
“So he could say what you said the next time someone asks what he is feeling.”
“But he never saw me.”
“Doesn’t matter. He heard you. Just like he can hear us now.” They were over fifty feet away from Eddie’s closed door.
She glanced behind them. “You’re joking.”
“When the opportunity presents itself, ask him to repeat this conversation. Eddie’s sense of hearing is astonishing.”
“Is there a connection to the Asperger’s?”
He nodded. “Having one of their senses heightened is commonplace among patients on the spectrum. We believe those on the lower-functioning end simply can’t communicate what they are experiencing, which compounds their feelings of being overwhelmed and frustrated. That’s what makes Eddie so unique. He can tell us.”
“Does he hear more than we do, or does he simply process the same things we hear better?”
“We’re honestly not sure.”
The answer surprised her. “Why not?” It was quickly becoming clear why she’d been required to sign a seventeen-page confidentiality agreement as part of her employment contract.
“He once had such a severe panic attack in an MRI that he broke the machine. He can’t handle electrodes or anything else being attached to his body that would allow us to gather any meaningful data.”
“I think I can help with that.”
“I believe you can, too. I want your initial focus to be on Eddie. He’s very close to a breakthrough.”
“What kind of breakthrough?” She assumed he meant developmental.
“After you’ve heard his lecture, you’ll understand.”
Skylar’s footsteps echoed as she and Fenton neared the end of the hall. “He can’t possibly hear us now, can he?” she asked quietly.
From nearly one hundred feet behind them, Eddie poked his head out of his door. “After you’ve heard his lecture, you’ll understand.” Eddie’s delivery sounded more like a male version of Siri, but it was still striking. Then he closed his door.
Skylar shook her head as she and Fenton turned a corner. “Amazing.”
“You have no idea.”
CHAPTER 12
Hay-Adams Hotel, Washington, DC, May 22, 8:30 a.m.
The Lafayette was a statement kind of DC restaurant. How often someone dined there, and at which table, told the world exactly where that individual ranked in the political scheme of things. It was a never-ending game of musical chairs. Those who could afford the private dining room, however, bought a speed pass. Everyone got to see them enter the establishment, but was then denied the pleasure of watching them eat. Which meant, of course, that any real business conducted in the Lafayette was done back there.
The ma?tre d’ greeted the Honorable Senator Corbin Davis from Indiana as he entered the restaurant. “Welcome back, Senator.”
“Thank you, Antonio.”
The ma?tre d’ corrected him. “Alfonso.”
“Alfonso, right.”
“Your host is expecting you. Please follow me.” He led the senator through the restaurant to the private room. Davis exchanged pleasantries with several other politicians and influence peddlers as they made their way back.
Davis’s breakfast companion stood up from the table as he entered the private room. “Senator, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Bob Stenson.”
Davis gave Stenson a firm handshake. “Bob, the pleasure is all mine.” He glanced at Alfonso, who excused himself.
Davis was attired exactly the way Stenson’s research had told him he would be: navy-blue pinstripe suit, handmade; off-white dress shirt, lightly starched; Brooks Brothers tie, yellow; Tiffany cuff links, brushed platinum; Patek Philippe watch, vintage. Stenson intended to tell him the watch was a poor choice even if it had been a wedding gift from his father-in-law, but only in due time. “Please, have a seat.” The two men sat at the table. “I ordered you a double cappuccino with nonfat milk. That is how you like your coffee, isn’t it?”
“It is.” Davis took a sip. “I gather you’ve done your homework on me.”
Stenson stifled a smile. “You could say that.” Only for the last fifteen years.
“Fifty thousand dollars is a hell of a contribution, Stenson. It’s rather unusual to see that kind of money come in without any fanfare.”
“We don’t care for fanfare, or publicity of any kind.”
The senator nodded as he studied the man across the table. “From what I could gather, while people have heard of the American Heritage Foundation, nobody knows much about you.” Stenson stared back impassively across the table. “Except that every candidate you’ve backed in the last twenty years has won.”