Chapter Three
Sean
Meanwhile the previous Friday...
Sirens were howling as I crossed the alley after having a cocktail at Café Berlin.
Dagmar had brought out my potato cakes and kissed my cheek before she disappeared.
I had no idea what the hell was going on because it didn’t seem like a regular late-May Friday evening.
Even Claus hadn’t been as friendly as usual.
When I walked around the corner of my office building to enter through the front doors, I saw emergency vehicles with swirling red and blue lights casting an eerie glow on the white building while a whole cadre of first responders rushed around in action. What the fuck is going on?
I pushed my way through the crowd until I found Rashad, the lead concierge. “What happened, Rashad?”
He turned to me and pulled me away from the chaos of first responders, building tenants, and nosy passersby. “Your car blew up, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”
My car blew up? I fucking froze.
The firefighters were hurrying around the building to the garage exit as a tanker truck backed down the alley where I’d just emerged, the crowd pushing against Rashad and me, who were in their way of gawping at the scene. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. “What the hell happened, Rashad?”
“The police and firemen are still trying to piece it together, Mr. Fitzpatrick. It seems as if someone planted a bomb in or under your BMW. You left your car here last night and took a car service to the office this morning, so your car was in the garage all night. The police have already asked for the garage CCTV footage to review it in hopes of seeing when the bomb was planted. It blew up around the time you’d have been driving home if you’d left on time today. ” Rashad’s expression showed concern.
I was fucking scared out of my mind.
“Okay, uh, Rashad. Thank you for filling me in. I’ll find a hotel somewhere downtown. Will you call me when you hear anything?” What the fuck was I supposed to do? Clearly, someone was after me. What the hell had I done to cause someone to blow up my car?
I pulled my phone from my breast pocket and called the former Democratic representative from North Carolina, Benjamin Hoffman.
I’d taken notice of Ben Hoffman back when he was in the North Carolina General Assembly.
He worked hard to shoot down North Carolina’s infamous Public Facilities Privacy & Security Act while he was a senator in the North Carolina General Assembly.
He lost the fight back then, but he won the war when HB2 was repealed in 2017, with the discriminatory provisions implemented in 2016, and went on to sunset in 2020.
Ben had gone on to represent his district in Congress, which was where I had the opportunity to meet him, and he now worked for a private law practice in the DC area. Rumor had it he and his husband were splitting time between DC and Knott’s Island, North Carolina, where they’d both grown up.
Ben’s husband, Raleigh Wallis, worked for a security organization headquartered in New York, and I was hoping he could give me some idea of what to do in my current clusterfuck.
I’d been threatened more than once since I began lobbying the power players in DC some fifteen years ago, but no one had ever gone to this extreme.
The phone rang twice before it was answered. “Hello?” Thankfully, it was Ben.
“Hello, Congressman Hoffman. It’s Sean Fitzpatrick.
I wondered if you had a moment to speak with me.
If not, would you call me back within the next day or so?
I was planning to leave a voicemail. I didn’t expect you to answer because I know you’re in the midst of party planning for the celebration of adopting your little girl.
I don’t want to detract from your happiness, but if you can spare a few minutes, I’d appreciate it. ”
My heart was in my throat. Nobody had ever tried to kill me before, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.
“I’ve got a bit of time right now. It’s the calm before the storms of tomorrow. What can I do for you, Sean?”
I stepped to the curb to hail a cab because Georgetown was a bit of a hike, and in my current state of panic, I was already short of breath. A cab made a U-turn, stopping in front of me.
I hopped in the back seat and said, “Four Seasons Hotel, Georgetown, please.”
I didn’t have my messenger bag because I had planned to go back to the office after I had my drink and snack at Café Berlin.
Thankfully, I had my keys, though the car key was now useless.
I needed to reach out to the police and contact my insurance company, but first I needed to get my ass somewhere safe and calm the fuck down.
“I was wondering if your husband could recommend someone for a short-term security detail. Someone blew up my car tonight.” I wasn’t going for shock value. I was stating a fact.
The driver looked in the rearview, an eyebrow arched. I shrugged. I wished to hell I was making it up.
“Hang on, Sean.” There was a shuffling and then, “Wallis.”
“Oh, uh, hi, Mr. Wallis. It’s Sean Fitzpatrick. I’m looking for personal security. Someone blew up my car today.”
“Fuck. Oops. Sorry. That’s damn harsh. So, you need someone ASAP. Uh, let me make a couple of calls, and I’ll call you back. Can you get yourself somewhere safe for now? I’ll get back to you in ten minutes.”
“I’ll be fine, Mr. Wallis. I’ll wait for your call.”
The cab driver let me out in front of the Four Seasons Hotel, and I went inside and out through the back, walking down 29th Street to K Street.
I hurried along the sidewalk and made the right to 31st Street, walking up the hill to the Ritz Carlton.
I cut through the back patio and out the side door to cross the street to Canal House.
It was a smaller boutique hotel, and I was sure they wouldn’t recognize me.
I went up to the desk and asked for a room for the night, joking with the desk clerk that my car broke down on M Street and I needed to stay in town to get it looked at in the morning.
Luckily, the guy was sympathetic and booked me a room, directing me to the sundries shop where I was able to pick up some toiletries, a phone charger, boxers, and socks.
After getting off the elevator and finding my room on the third floor, I went inside and sat on the corner of the bed. I still couldn’t fucking believe someone blew up my car in the parking garage where my offices were located.
I didn’t even ask if anyone was injured. How fucking selfish was I? I retrieved my phone and opened the package with the charger to plug it in because the battery power was in the red.
After checking the screen to see I had four bars of coverage, I sat next to the nightstand with the plugged-in phone on my lap after I stripped down to my boxers and undershirt. I was resting against the headboard when the phone vibrated.
Dozing, the call startled me, and when I looked at the screen, I saw it was Ben Hoffman’s phone. “Ben?”
“It’s me, Mr. Fitzpatrick, Raleigh Wallis.” Thank heaven he called back.
“Yes, Mr. Wallis.” I held my breath.
“My colleague, Lawry Schatz, is going to contact you tomorrow. He’s going to find someone to keep you safe. Are you somewhere you can’t be easily found?”
“Yes. I registered under a fictitious name at a hotel I never use for... uh, I’ve never stayed here before. I think I’m safe.”
Fuck, I hoped I was. I’d used the Four Seasons in Georgetown for hookups, so I knew that wasn’t the best place to hide, though I was sure the staff would cover for me.
“Okay. Try to get some rest. I know this has been a frightening experience. Have you spoken to law enforcement yet? Don’t go into your office tomorrow.” Ben was in the background saying something, but I couldn’t make out his words.
“Benji says you can use the condo we have in Bethesda. Your residence probably isn’t safe until Casper gets a handle on what’s happening.
He and Max are here in North Carolina with us so we’ll get to work now, but they’ll be headed back to New York on Sunday morning.
We’ll call you in the morning with the next steps after we know what we’re dealing with.
“I’ll have Ben send you the information for our condo. Casper and Max will pick you up on Sunday morning and take you to our apartment, where you can stay while we investigate who’s got a bead on you. They’ll take you to your place first so you can pack some necessities for at least a week.”
A week? I had business to attend to, but I wanted to be alive to do it, so I’d thank them for their kindness and listen to their suggestions.
“Thank you, Mr. Wallis. I really appreciate your assistance in this matter. I’ll wait for your call.” I hated that I’d interrupted their party plans, but I was at a loss for what to do.
I got up to double-check that I’d engaged the deadbolt before going into the bathroom and staring at myself in the mirror. “Who did you piss off?”
After standing there for a minute, I chuckled—from fear or exhaustion, I didn’t know. “Who haven’t you pissed off?”
I left the light on, pulling the bathroom door closed so I could find it in the dark. I turned off the lights in the room and relaxed on the bed. My brain was working overtime as I thought of all the people I’d crossed in the fifteen years I’d been working on Capitol Hill.
The senators and representatives I’d brought around to my way of thinking, sometimes to their own detriment, were top of the list of suspects who might have it out for me.
I’d had a hand in ending a few careers over my time on The Hill because of the votes I encouraged them to cast, but it was always for the greater good, never to benefit me personally.
Some people acted as if queer folks just started coming out of the woodwork yesterday, but everyone knew that was bullshit.
Queer people were in every culture, walk of life, and religion.
It wasn’t an earth-shattering idea that the LGBTQIA+ community should have the same rights as heterosexual couples.