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 29thStreet to K Street. I hurried along the sidewalk and made the right to 31stStreet, walking up the hill to the Ritz Carlton. I cut through the back patio and out the side door to cross the streetto 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. “Whohaven’tyou 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 ofthe 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.
We paid our taxes and obeyed the laws the same as everyone else in the US, so to be given the same treatment as everyone else wasn’t a stretch, was it? Why so many people disagreed was astonishing. Having the same rights as every other citizen didn’t take one thing away from them.
Why should my marrying a man have any effect on the guy who sneered at me in the elevator of Potomac Place every morning as I headed to work while he walked his fucking dog? Having that smelly thing in the elevator affected me more than who had fucked me the night before aggrieved him.
No doubt I was a prick to deal with on a good day. Was it a good reason to kill me?
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
