Chapter Eight
Jericho
When Mr. Rose arrived at two-fifteen, I was pissed that he was late. I was also ready to sit on Sean to stop him from pacing. He was wearing a path in the cheap Masonite tile in the police station and getting on my last damn nerve.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick, I’m sorry I’m late. I was—”
Sean cut him off. “I don’t give a damn where you were. If I’m going to be your client, I come first.”
Damn, that was harsh.
Mr. Rose’s face morphed instantly from cordial to angry. “Mr. Fitzpatrick, it remains to be seen if I’ll be your attorney. Spencer Brady contacted me and asked me to meet with you as a favor to him. Currently, I’m not accepting new clients.”
Oh, is someone saying no to Sean Fitzpatrick? I wish I had popcorn for this.
I’d been the one to tell Sean to take control of the situation, but that didn’t mean he could shit on everyone else in the process. It seemed as if it were his first instinct.
“I see your attorney is here. If you’ll follow me, we’ve got everything set up in an interrogation room.” I started to follow, but Compton turned to me. “He won’t need a bodyguard in a police station. Take a seat.”
Sean handed me his phone. “Call Representative Chu and tell her I’m sorry I missed our lunch and ask when she can reschedule, please. I should have called her in the car.”
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” It seemed like something he needed to do himself. I didn’t even know how to speak with a member of Congress.
“Yes, please. The passcode is”—he leaned closer to whisper—“7326. Thank you.”
Sean then followed Compton down a hallway with Mr. Rose trailing behind, still pissed based on the look on his face. I took a seat on a nearby chair and opened Sean’s phone, then went to his contacts.
I found the number for Representative Chu, but it wasn’t a DC area code, so I guessed it was her personal cell phone. I hit the icon and stood, walking to a quieter part of the police station.
“Sean, I’ve been waiting thirty minutes for your surly ass to show up.” The representative didn’t sound happy.
“Representative Chu, this is Mr. Fitzpatrick’s security officer. He’s sorry to say he won’t be able to make your lunch date. He’s tied up in a meeting and sends his regrets. He asked if you’d be willing to reschedule?”
“What’s your name, security officer?” She had a playful tone in her voice that put me on guard.
“Hess, ma’am.” The less I said, the better, I was sure.
“Mr. Hess, tell Sean he’ll want to talk to me today. The vote is scheduled for Thursday, and I believe there’s a chance to turn the tide.”
“Got it, ma’am. Turn the tide.” She ended the call without saying another word.
I had no idea which vote she was referring to, nor did I know which tide needed to be turned, but I was sure it would make sense to Sean—if I could get the message to him while it was still useful information.
One hour into my sit-in at the police station, Sean’s phone chimed with a text message. I debated looking at it to see if it was important. It occurred to me that I wouldn’t have the slightest idea what Sean might think was important.
I highly doubted he’d think a text from his parents was important, based on what he’d told me the previous day. But maybe he would if they called to announce bad news. Though, texting him bad news would be a shitty thing to do.
After stewing for fifteen minutes, I finally pulled the phone from my jacket pocket and unlocked the screen, seeing a message from Spencer.
Sean, I got a call from Mei-Lyn Chu that you couldn’t make the meeting. I’ll go meet with her. She says there’s room for movement on the R’s trans agenda. The debate and vote are set for Thursday. I know you’re with the police right now. Call me when you finish.
I glanced up in time to see Sean hurrying down an opposite hall from where I was sitting.
Everyone in the large open room where the officers were stationed at desks stopped what they were doing to watch Sean sprint to the men’s room.
Mr. Rose and Detective Compton walked toward me, both speaking quietly.
I stood from the chair and hurried around the corner to the men’s room, pulling the door open and rushing inside. “Sean?”
I heard someone throwing up in one of the stalls, so I bent to look under the door to see my protectee on the floor on his knees. “Sean, are you okay?”
“Jeri?”
The toilet flushed, and he stood, opening the door and stepping out. I wet some napkins for him and wished I had a cup to get him some water.
“That’s so gross.” Sean popped out his contacts and reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve his glasses, placing them on the bathroom counter.
He splashed water on his red cheeks, and I handed him the napkins so he could blot his face. His tie was trashed, so he took it off and tossed it into the wastebasket.
“What happened?”
Sean rinsed his mouth and spat the water in the sink, dabbing his face again. “I got some very unsettling news and even more unsettling questions. I’ll tell you in the car on the way home.
“Were you able to call Mei-Lyn Chu?” He adjusted his clothes and smoothed his hair before straightening his shoulders and turning to me.
“I did. I’ll explain in the car as well.” I stepped to the door and opened it, watching him walk out of the restroom with his head held high.
I followed him out to where Detective Compton and Mr. Rose were waiting. “Are we done here?” I asked so I could summon the car.
“For now. We’ll be in touch, Mr. Fitzpatrick.
Sorry for your loss, and make no mistake, we’ll find whoever did this.
We’ll hold back the identity of the deceased until we’ve had the chance to contact their next of kin.
Please don’t discuss the open case.” Compton turned and walked away, leaving Rose to follow us out.
I stopped Sean before he walked out the front door. “Gimme a second.”
He nodded and I stepped outside, scanning the area.
It was a pretty highly trafficked area, so the threat assessment was more difficult, but I’d been stationed in volatile parts of the world before, and people who meant to do harm had similar habits and no care or concern for those who could be collateral damage.
Besides, who would know we were at the police station? It could have happened that we’d been surveilled, though I’d been hyper-vigilant while we were traveling to meet with Compton, and I didn’t notice anything remotely out of the ordinary. Plus, we’d been inside for nearly two hours.
At the end of the day, we were at a police station. Trying to attack us there would be a suicide mission. I waved Sean out to join me.
The sun was shining brightly, and I missed my cowboy hat to shade my eyes, so I reached into my jacket pocket to get my sunglasses. I pulled them on as a guy on a pink bike with a rainbow flag attached behind the seat sped around the southwestern corner of the police station.
Out of nowhere, a black SUV careened onto the one-way street at a high rate of speed, clipping the biker’s rear tire and sending the rider into the air as a window on the Chevy SUV lowered and the barrel of an automatic rifle appeared through the gap.
I tackled Sean to the sidewalk and shielded him with my body as shots filled the air.
The windows across the front of the police station shattered as bullets pinged against the limestone exterior, and three police officers working the magnetometers inside the entrance rushed out of the building to return fire.
The SUV sped away, and that was when I noticed the vehicle was missing a rear license plate.
What it wasn’t missing were two large magnetic signs affixed to the tailgate, one with a cross draped with an American flag and the other with the words Defenders of the Faithful in red, white, and blue letters. That one I recalled from the beginning of my time in the Army.
I’d been approached to join their alleged religious men’s order during my time at Camp Mackall, where I was training for the Army Special Operations Command.
Thankfully, I deployed for the first time before I had to give those crazy bastards an answer.
After that, I did my damnedest to stay off their radar.
The SUV ran the red light at Indiana and Third Street, racing toward D Street and getting lost in the midday traffic. No way would the cops find them.
I lifted myself off Sean and pulled him up, seeing his glasses were broken, and he had a small scrape on his cheek. “God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
Sean’s face was pale, so I wrapped my arms around him. “I’m sorry I took you down, but I couldn’t see what they were firing at. No way did I want it to be either of us.”
“God, thank you, Jeri. I— I don’t know...” He started to pull away, but I wasn’t having it. He was trembling so much that I was afraid he was going to pass out and crack his head on the sidewalk. What kind of bodyguard would I be if I let that happen?
“Shh,” I whispered as I held him close again.
“It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll have to give a statement so let’s go sit down on that bench.
” I pointed to the wood and iron bench to our right before taking Sean’s hand and leading him over to sit.
He seemed a little dazed, as he should be after surviving a drive-by shooting.
I scanned the area, looking for any bullet casings.
There were only a few on the street, so most of them had stayed inside the black vehicle.
The shooters hadn’t had time to collect them, so I was sure the police would find plenty, though I wasn’t sure if it would help. At least they’d know the AR’s make.
Sean rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “I can’t see very well. I don’t have another pair of contacts or my other glasses with me. I couldn’t see anything because you had your arms around my head and your body was covering me. Did you see anything?”