Chapter Seven
Sean
“I understand that your home state is scarlet red, Senator, but tell me how good this would look. Think about it: a campaign commercial for the democrat who comes after your seat next year at mid-terms. Sickly children in hospital beds with IV tubes in their small arms because you voted to cut funding for childhood vaccination clinics in rural communities in your home state. They’ll be epic.
Those vaccines could have prevented measles, chickenpox, and other childhood diseases, but you voted against the legislation.
There’s a reason you left the Republican Party, isn’t there?
Former Republication Senior Senator Jack Baggett from Kansas sat across the desk from me in his office in the Russell Senate Office Building. Braggin’ Jack Baggett liked to ride the line between conservative and liberal, depending on who had the best offer for him.
It was said in certain circles that Baggett could be bought for a glass of good whiskey, a Cuban cigar, and a blow-job from a cute twink. I was holding that card for our hardball negotiations.
Jericho had been busy all of Monday setting up his security officer license in DC so he could accompany me to Capitol Hill.
Before he left for DC, he’d gone down to the front desk and explained to one of the guards, Ernesto, not to let anyone into the building who wanted access to the Wallis apartment, nor should he accept any packages for me.
Ernesto was only too happy to oblige us. I was pretty sure Mr. Wallis had something to do with the extra protection because the guard didn’t know me from anyone.
Meanwhile, I worked to gather information to supplement the briefing book Mrs. Lambert had sent over on Monday afternoon.
Tracking down Landon Checker, the cute young law student who worked as a clerk for Senate Majority Leader Arnold Paxton, had taken a little time, but with the right number of dollar signs, nothing was impossible.
“Look, Fitzpatrick. Jim Marshall is doing me a solid by backing me for chair of the Veterans Affairs Committee. With my military background, I should already be the chair. You know better than anyone how these things work. Did you serve? Oh, that’s right, you didn’t because you’re gay and they didn’t want you.
“You probably couldn’t have hid it under DADT anyway. Don’t you believe those men and women who fought for your freedom—since you didn’t—should have access to better benefits than they do right now?”
I saw red. “And you’re planning to push against the plan the president and SecDef want to implement to eliminate all trans and HIV+ members who are fit for service from the ranks?”
Motherfucker paled. “Who told you that? That’s a… When did I say that? I support the president.”
I reached into my briefing book and pulled out a picture of Bragin’ Baggett from back in the day in his desert fatigues. He had his arm around a handsome blond airman who was resting his head on Baggett’s shoulder.
I handed over the photo that one of my private detectives had been able to track down from the mother of the soldier. “Nice photo of you and Airman First Class Toby Allen in Saudi in the summer of 1990. You guys served together during the Gulf War, didn’t you?”
“Y-Y-Yeah. We were assigned to the same unit. I haven’t talked to him in years. I’ll need to call him to catch up. It would be good to get him to campaign with me.
“Maybe I should surround myself with vets to show I’ll look out for their best interests instead of having to say it. Thanks, Fitzpatrick. I think I have my new platform’s focus.” The cocky fucker chuckled as he stood, signaling I was being dismissed.
“You’ll have a hard time getting in touch with AFC Toby Allen. He died in 2018 from pneumonia related to his AIDs diagnosis. When was the last time you were tested, Jack?”
“You know as well as me that members of congress have complete physicals annually, Fitzpatrick. You don’t scare me.”
I walked toward the door and opened it in time to see Landon Checker, as I expected, just outside the door holding a red interoffice mailer, signaling its contents were for the senator’s eyes only.
The guy was wearing a sexy smile as I slid an envelope from the breast pocket of my jacket to him. “Thank you for supporting the cause.”
The memo I’d write to the LGBTQIA+ Equality Caucus in the House so they’d be better prepared for the upcoming campaign season would outline Baggett’s intention to use retired vets to pretend he supported them. There were plenty of Trans and HIV+ vets who could counter Baggett’s bullshit.
He really planned to vote with the president to severely decrease veterans’ benefits, including removing all trans and HIV+ veterans from receiving any benefits as a cost-saving measure in the DoD budget. They should all be horse-whipped.
Turning to Jack, I smirked when his face fell. “I believe you know my friend, Landon. Looks like the speaker has something for you.”
Landon’s presence at the door was meant as a stark reminder that I wasn’t to be trifled with. Washington had many secrets, and I made sure to learn as many of them as possible.
I closed the door, smiling and waving to Jack’s staff as I made my way out of the office and down the hallway where Jericho sat with his phone. He stood when he saw me.
“We need to stop at the security entrance so I can collect my firearm and return this lovely piece of jewelry. How’d it go?
” Jericho held up the visitors’ pass hanging off a lanyard as we took the elevator down to the first floor.
I tugged mine over my head and took his as we stepped off the elevator and walked toward the entrance of the building.
“It went as planned. I never go into a meeting without knowing the outcome. The car should be here to take us to The Occidental for lunch with Congresswoman Mei-Lyn Chu.”
Jeri collected his weapon and stopped me as I was about to walk out the door. “You wait here until I find the driver. I’ll be right back.”
He was so pretty. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he quickly walked down the stairs to Constitution Avenue with his phone to his ear. I assumed he was calling for the car, but what if he was calling to set a hookup date for later?
It wasn’t my business, was it? He was my protection detail, and once I was in Wallis’s condo, locked away from the world, his activities were no longer of concern to me. So why did I give a damn?
Before I could answer that question in my own mind, my phone rang. I pulled it from my breast pocket, half expecting Jeri to call for me to come outside, but it wasn’t Jeri on the phone. It was Detective Compton, which couldn’t be good.
“Hello, Detective. What can I do for you? I’m working today, so unless this is extremely important, I’m afraid I’ll have to put you on my calendar for next week.”
The low chuckle from Detective Compton didn’t put me at ease. “Mr. Fitzpatrick, I’m afraid we’ll need you to come into the station. We have an ID on the body in your trunk. Can you be here at two o’clock?”
I glanced through the windows in front of the Russell Office Building to see Jericho standing next to the car from the sedan service. He motioned for me to come out, and I took a deep breath. “Okay, Detective. We’ll be there at two.”
I ended the call and walked out the entrance and down the stairs to where Jeri stood with the rear car door open for me. I stepped closer to him. “Anything happen while you were sitting in the lobby earlier?”
Jericho chuckled. “Not that I noticed. You’ll have to tell me what the hell that call was about. Now, where to?”
I exhaled. “I need to go to the Indiana Street Police Station. They’ve figured out the identity of the body in my trunk.”
Jeri slid into the car next to me and closed the door. “Call your lawyer, Sean. You need representation for this so they don’t try to implicate you for something you didn’t do.”
I didn’t doubt his advice, but a part of me said that if I were innocent, wouldn’t it look bad if I had a lawyer with me? Wouldn’t that make me look guilty?
Jeri’s hand settled on my thigh. “Don’t overthink this, Sean. You need to be very careful. Like I said, call your lawyer.”
I sighed as I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled through the messages with Spencer Brady. The last one was the contact for a friend of his who was an incredible defense lawyer.
I hit the button and put the phone on speaker as the driver headed to the Indiana Avenue substation where Compton and Mathers worked.
“Isaac Rose Firm. How may I direct your call?”
“Sean Fitzpatrick for Mr. Rose. I need him to meet me at the Metropolitan Police substation on Indiana Avenue.”
The weight of what I’d just said settled on my shoulders, and my heart raced. Fuck if I wanted to go to jail, especially for something I didn’t do. I had no idea who was in the trunk of my car, but if it was someone I knew, I was going to fucking freak out.
My hands flew into my hair—a bad habit of pulling it out by the roots had developed when I was a kid and had persisted into adulthood. For fuck’s sake, I was forty, and I was still pulling out my hair?
Suddenly, the phone was jerked from my hands. “Hello?”
I turned to Jericho and reached for the phone, and when he slapped my hands, I laughed. “What the fuck?”
“Yes, Mr. Fitzpatrick. I’m trying to locate Mr. Rose.”
“This is Jericho Hess. Tell Mr. Rose to show up at the Indiana Avenue substation at two. Thank you.”
Jeri ended the call and tossed my phone onto the seat. “You have a very commanding personality. Why aren’t you taking charge of this bullshit?”
His words surprised me. I stared out the window to my right, asking myself the same damn question. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in this position before. I don’t know what to do.”
Jeri turned to me and smirked. “That’s bullshit and you know it, Red. Maybe you’ve never shot anyone before, but you’ve taken them down. Gather that energy and use it.”
I turned to my left to see that gorgeous man was dead serious. I sighed. “I’ll try. Will you come in with me?”
I’d never been so damn scattered—or needy—before in my fucking life. I was always the one who directed others to do my bidding, but suddenly, I was flailing. Never in my life had I been so fucking lost.
“Of course I’ll come in with you. Take a few deep breaths and try to center yourself. Close your eyes and think about—”
“Is this some kind of guru shit you learned in rehab?” Something about the situation made me want to laugh. It was funny that I didn’t seem to have a problem with Jeri telling me what to do. That was a fucking first.
“You don’t like the guru shit I learned in the hospital and in rehab?” His tone was light, which was a relief. I never wanted to offend the cowboy in the least. He was…amazing.
I chuckled. “I’m more of a realist, I’m afraid. I’m not one to speculate about the future. I don’t think any of us know what’s coming at us.”
Jericho took my hand. “Sean, I’m here to protect you, not aggravate you. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I had no idea how to answer him. Once, I thought I’d figured out everything. That was until my car blew up in the basement of my office building.
Now? Nothing was certain.