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“I’ll send some officers out to take a look and get back to you.”
“Thanks, Cap.”
“No problem.”
Jake returned to Joe’s office to update him. “Do you think we should notify the Feds?” Jake asked.
“And tell them how Forrester ordered us to release a murderer, and now the kid is dead? I’d rather keep that to ourselves until we figure out what the hell is going on.”
“Right. I’ll let you know what Gaithersburg comes back with.”
“I’m going home. Call me with any updates.”
“Sure.” Jake started to leave, but something had him turning back. “Are you okay?”
“Never better.”
“If I can do anything…”
“You’re doing all you can, and I appreciate it. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As Jake watched his good friend walk away, noting the hunch of his shoulders, he hoped that everything he was doing would be enough.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gonzo and Freddie arrived at Congressman Bryant’s home to find a crowd gathered outside that included several beefy-looking security guys with earpieces. Since when did congressmen have such a robust security presence? Most of them complained about not being able to afford DC residences while maintaining homes in their districts. As he gazed up at the fancy townhouse, it was clear that wasn’t an issue for Bryant.
They showed their badges, and Gonzo introduced them. “We’d like to see the congressman.”
“He’s not taking visitors right now,” one of the guards said.
“We’re not visitors. We’re cops, and we want to see him.”
“He’s not available.”
“Let me tell you how this works. We ask to see him, and you get him for us, or we go to a judge and swear out a warrant for his arrest. Unless you want to see your boss on the eleven o’clock news in handcuffs, you’d better go tell him we’re here.” Gonzo consulted his watch for the time, which was creeping toward ten o’clock. “You’ve got five minutes to produce him.”
The other guard used his chin to tell the first one to go get the guy.
“Thank you,” Gonzo said to him after the first guy went inside.
“Used to be on the job. I get it.”
“Whereabouts?”
“New Haven.”
Five more minutes passed before the first guard returned with another man, who Gonzo assumed was the congressman. It had better be him. The guy was about five eight with a mostly bald head and a red complexion, as if he’d been drinking or crying.
“I’m Damien Bryant. I understand you’re asking to see me?”
“That’s right. Can we talk inside?”
He glanced back toward the house. “Um, sure. I guess.”
They followed him past the two security guards, up the stairs to the townhouse. Once inside, it was clear from the roar of voices that a crowd had gathered.
“In here,” he said, leading them to a small room off the foyer.
