Once Jeri headed to the men’s room, I turned to Special Agent Trachtenberg. “What’s the theory the cops have for why Marvin Thompson is after me?”
The large man smirked. “I just spent a week in North Carolina questioning suspects down there. It was a real clusterfuck.
“There are a lot of conflicting stories floating through Camp Brotherhood’s former members, but they all say that your work on behalf of the LGBTQ+ community pissed off Thompson because he’s a good Christian man who’s trying to save the world from the scourge of those who sin against God by lying with other men.”
I chuckled at the bullshit the agent had been told. “That goodChristianman used to like me to choke on his cock while I shoved a dry finger up his ass and slapped his balls with my other hand. He’s a pain slut.
“I’m a kinky fucker, I’ll give you that, but if my late assistant Byron Haight wasn’t watching me blow Marv, poor Marv couldn’t come. He liked someone witnessing the humiliation he believed he deserved because he was in a closet far too deep to dig himself out. That sound like a good Christianstraightman to you?”
I watched Trachtenberg’s reaction, expecting a scowl or a nasty homophobic slur. Surprisingly, I got neither.
The special agent only nodded. “And if word got out regarding his proclivities, they’d shatter the illusion he’d built with his wife, kids, and church community, I suspect. Do you think that’s why he had the Hill twins plant that bomb in your BMW?”
I nodded. “Oh, I’m more than convinced. Did they admit to killing Byron?” I didn’t want to hear it, but I needed the truth.
“They admitted that they broke Mr. Haight’s neck and put him in your car in your office building. The Hill brothers have loose lips and want to try to make a deal. They’re under arrest in thehospital in DC, and they’re cooperating with the local authorities in hopes of getting a lesser sentence.
“Unfortunately, the twins are fucking idiots and know nothing about the innerworkings of the Defenders of the Faithful. Their security guy killed Heath Palmer and the leader of the group, Martin Dale, before he took himself out.”
My stomach turned. Fucking hell, what was going on. “Do you think you can find them?”
Trachtenberg sighed. “The Defenders have branched out as far as Kansas, and my bosses want to shut down the whole shootin’ match. They’ve got their fingers dipped into some very non-Christian pies, or so we’ve been told by an anonymous tip, and right now, we don’t know much about the other chapters. My goal is to turn Marvin Thompson into an inside snitch, but I needed this leverage to get him to do as I say.”
I nodded. It wasn’t a surprise, and since Byron was dead, I was the only living person who knew the connection between Marv and me that would make him want me dead. “I assume I’ll need to tell this story to someone higher up in your food chain?”
“Say your name and the date, and we won’t bother you anymore.”
“Sean Fitzpatrick. Today is Friday, June 27.”
Trachtenberg turned off the recording app and shoved his phone in his pocket. “Like I said, you have my word that none of what you just said will be in any legal documents used in this operation.
“Right now, a young reporter is sitting in a jail cell in Moore County, North Carolina, who thinks that whole fucking mess was his fault. I won’t tell him what you said, but I will put his mind at ease. He won’t know who you are, just that you’re someone who provided the information that opened his cell door. Thank you, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”
A gentle hand touched my shoulder. “Is it okay for me to come back?” Jeri was standing beside the booth; his brow wrinkled with concern.
“Gentlemen, I’m going to take off. Thank you for your cooperation. Mr. Fitzpatrick, if you think of anything you’d be willing to share that might help me accomplish my goal, will you please reach out?”
He shoved his hand into the pocket of his FBI jacket and offered me a business card. I glanced at it and tried to connect what I was seeing with the facts of the case as he’d presented them.
“This says you’re from—”
“I’m on loan to the Fayetteville field office. This case is personal to me, but don’t tell anyone.” Trachtenberg gave us a wink before he got up from the table and walked out.
Jeri sat next to me. “You okay? He didn’t threaten you or anything, right?”
He was so damn protective, it made my dick hard. “Let’s go back to the condo so I can pack up my shit, and we can go home...after we fuck.”
Jeri stood and offered his hand, helping me slide out of the booth. I tossed money on the table to pay for the coffee we didn’t drink, and I held his hand as we walked out the door.
For the time being, it seemed as if my worries were over. But then again, now I had to maneuver living with Jeri’s mother while we created a future together. That shouldn’t be hard, right?
“What did you and Senator Collins decide about her cheating husband?” Jeri asked. I chuckled as I thought about the discussion I’d had with the senator earlier that day.
Leslie Collins was a woman filled with vengeance over the bullshit hand her husband had dealt her. I had to get Spencer on the phone so he could help me talk her off the ledge before she blew up her future. I couldn’t have that happen because her man done did her wrong.
She had a lot of ideas regarding how she wanted to make Harmon pay for his infidelity, first by sending Child Protection Services to his girlfriend’s parents’ home, along with a reporter, to verify that Brandy was over eighteen.
“Leslie, seriously, the girl is a junior at Georgetown, so you know she’s over eighteen. Harmon has questionable judgment dating a woman twenty-five years his junior, but that isn’t a reason to tax social services. People will see him for the old fool he is when he steps out with someone so young,” Spencer Brady had told her. He was spot on with that assessment.
