“Gentlemen,” Jack Applebee said, “don’t be too quick to take away your support. I’m sure we can reach a mutually satisfactory agreement on this issue.”
“No, Jack,” Reverend Stokes said firmly. “I didn’t need their money three years ago when I let James win the race for governor by pulling out my nomination, and I sure don’t need it now.”
“You pulled out of the race because you knew you couldn’t win,” Governor James hollered. “You’ll never make it to the White House without our support.”
After a long pause, Reverend Stokes said quietly, “I know I can’t become president without calling in a lot of favors. But I am not going to say that I will support something I’m adamantly against. A casino on the river in Savannah would be almost as bad as the one you want to put in the ocean surrounding New York City.”
“Why are you so against these casinos?” Governor Birks asked. “Don’t you realize they provide jobs for people?”
“From what I’ve seen,” Stokes replied, “casinos are built primarily in poverty-level, African-American communities. Those people would have to move out of their neighborhoods to make room for the casinos, and where are they supposed to go?”
“Come on, Steven,” Governor Birks retorted. “The homeowners will get paid to move. Probably more money than they’ve saved up their whole lives. It’s a win-win situation.”
“No, it’s not,” Stokes asserted. “Those people won’t get a fair price for their property and you know it. Besides, gambling can easily become an addiction, and I won’t do something that will help people get hooked. If that means losing your support…then you do what you have to do.”
I couldn’t help but smile. I felt proud to protect a man who had integrity and was willing to sacrifice his dreams for his beliefs.
I heard the scraping of chairs on the hardwood floor. The two governors and their entourage stormed toward the elevator. Stokes did not come out, so I remained at my post.
“This isn’t good, sir,” I heard Jack Applebee say. “You shouldn’t rattle their cages like that.”
“If I want to be president,” Stokes said, “I’m going to have to show some backbone.”
“But, sir, you just took our biggest contributors out of the game. How are we supposed to win if we’re broke?”
“I’ll find other contributors,” he said.
I could hear Jack sigh. “Forgive me, Reverend, but I don’t see a lot of people lining up to contribute to your campaign.”
“You’re right,” Stokes said. “but that’s where you come in. You’re supposed to be out there looking for people who will support me.”
“Maybe we can find a compromise with those gentlemen,” Jack suggested.
“I disagree,” Stokes said. “Unless they back me for what I stand for, there can never be a solution.” Reverend Stokes paused. “Jack, my first campaign manager didn’t understand that sometimes you have to bend the rules, not break them. That’s why I fired him and hired you. But now you’re sounding like you don’t think I can win this election without the likes of them.”
“It’s not that,” Jack replied in a deflated tone. “I just think it would be a lot easier with the clout and contributions those gentlemen have to offer.”
The room was silent for a long moment.
“I have to get ready for tonight,” Stokes said finally. “You can leave now.”
When Jack came out of the room he looked at me like, Can you believe that guy?
I maintained my stoic stance, knowing I wasn’t supposed to respond. Jack shook his head and walked past me toward the elevator.
I entered the room and saw Reverend Stokes sitting alone at the conference table. His face looked haggard, like a dried-up prune. Though it wasn’t my place, I touched his shoulder and said, “Sir, are you okay?”
“I hope so,” he said, looking up at me with tired eyes. “But thanks for your concern.”
That evening my supervisor told me that a New York fashion designer had offered to donate outfits for all of the agents to wear at Reverend Stokes’s formal fund-raising affairs.
Early the next morning, I met with the designer in his studio and we picked out a full-length, red sequined gown with a slit up the back that showed a little cleavage. I also bought a pair of red, ankle-strap pumps that matched my dress. He put a rush on the order so I’d be able to have it for the banquet that night.
If the gown was supposed to help me blend in with the crowd, it failed miserably. As I stood at the entrance to the dining hall, everyone who entered complimented me on my dress. I wished Sebastian could have been there to see me.
“Dang, you’re hot!” a seductive voice behind me said.
I turned around and saw Max leering at me.
“I can’t talk to you right now,” I told him. “I’m on duty here.”
I then turned away from him and looked around the room for Reverend Stokes.
“Look,” Max whispered in my ear, “all I need is an introduction to Reverend Stokes. If I come to him on my own, he’s not going to think I’ve got the money to help him. You know me. You can tell him I’m on the level. Come on, Chris. Please?”
Before I could answer, Agent Moss called me on the headset. “I need you to report to me immediately.”
“I have to go now,” I said to Max. I walked away and left him standing there.
“Yes, sir?” I said as I approached my supervisor.
“Agent Sawyer just called in. He’s not feeling well, so your assignment has changed. I need you near the protectee.”
I took a deep breath. Standing guard at the front door was much less stressful than directly guarding the candidate. Last time I’d done that, I’d almost gotten myself, and my protectee, killed. But I was determined to get back to full duty as quickly as possible, and apparently Agent Moss felt I was ready.
I moved toward Cool Falcon, watching everybody shaking his hand, chatting with him, walking around him. I had to consider everyone a potential threat. Since no one had been apprehended yet for the explosion, the bomber could be among today’s gathering.
When Jack Applebee came by, Reverend Stokes motioned to him and excused himself from the crowd around him. I followed the two men to a quiet alcove.
“We need to get more funds,” Reverend Stokes said, “to replace those two governors who pulled out on me today. Have you found any new money connections here tonight?”
“Sir,” I said, easing into his view, “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but a college friend of mine is the vice president at a bank here in New York, and he told me he’d like to contribute to your campaign. He says he knows some other folks who want to donate as well. I don’t know how much money he’s talking about, but he is here this evening. May I introduce you to him?”
Reverend Stokes’s face lit up. “That’s what I like. A guard who is beautiful, dependable, and comes through in hard times. Yes, by all means, go get this young man.”
“Sir, I’ve been assigned as your personal bodyguard for this evening, so I can’t leave your side. But I’m sure my friend will find his way to us.”
“I’ll count on that,” Reverend Stokes said. “And thank you. Even if he only gives five dollars, that’s five dollars more than we have now.”
I resumed my post a few steps to his left and continued surveying the surroundings.
Back when I was working behind my desk as an FBI agent, I’d always thought about the glamour and intrigue of politics, but never realized how dangerous and nerve-wracking it was. The weight of the world on your shoulders. Your personal life on hold because you’re constantly on the job. I now realized that politics was not the life for me.
At eight o’clock, dinner was served. Reverend Stokes sat at a large, rectangular table while waiters served what looked like very dry chicken.
When I spotted Max walking toward the rest room, I called Agent Moss on my headset and asked for a break. As soon as Agent Hold came to take my place, I hurried into the hallway, hopi
ng to catch him.
I found him standing near the front entrance, talking to three dark-haired men. They looked a lot like the well-dressed criminals I’d seen in movies and on television.
One of the men poked Max in the side and pointed at me. When Max turned and saw me, his face turned bright red.
Agent Pitts came up behind me. “You think we need to get those guys out of here? They could be a potential risk—something about them doesn’t look right to me. How’d they get past security, anyway?”
“I don’t know, but those men are cool,” I said. “That’s an old friend of mine. I’m sure the guys he’s with are fine.”
“Oh. Well, that’s different. Guess I’ll go back to hallway patrol, then.”
After Pitts left, Max sidled up to me. “Did your buddy want to throw me out?”
I pointed to the shifty-looking men. “Who are those guys?”
“Just some of my colleagues at the bank. They want to invest in Stokes’s campaign, too.” Max winked at his friends, then turned back to me. “So, can you hook me up?”
“Actually, Reverend Stokes is extremely interested in meeting you. After dinner, when you go through the receiving line, I’ll introduce you.”
“Great.” Max rubbed his hands together like an eager child.
True to my word, when the meal ended, I introduced Max Cross and his friends to Reverend Stokes, who appeared intrigued with the group. When one of the men said he and his associates had come with cash, the candidate’s face registered surprise, then joy. Reverend Stokes quickly told Jack Applebee to meet with them to discuss their contribution.
I smiled. It felt good to help the man I’d begun to admire.
When I got back to my hotel room, I checked for messages, but had none. I began to wonder about Sebastian. I hadn’t heard from him in a week. Perhaps he thought I was too loose a woman.
I breathed a deep sigh of relief when I walked through the door of my apartment in D.C. I’d been away from it for far too long. Kicking off my shoes, I smiled at the cheerful sight of the artificial flowers that decorated my place. With my schedule, live plants would never survive.
Though I had checked my answering machine daily from the road, the digital display on my home phone indicated I had twenty-four messages. My heart leapt when I thought they might be from Sebastian. But he had my pager number and my cell phone number, and I always left my hotel numbers on his machine. So I didn’t figure he would leave me messages at home.
The first seventeen calls were from Troy. The messages said he desperately needed to talk to me. I rolled my eyes. Couldn’t he get the hint that I didn’t want to go out with him?
My mom had called, saying she was worried about my sister. Message nineteen was from Eden and the next two were my mom again. Then Max, thanking me for the introduction to Reverend Stokes.
The last four messages were from Troy. His voice sounded increasingly desperate, the last one saying that if he didn’t get in touch with me soon there might be some serious consequences. I called him at home, but got his answering machine.
“I’m back in town,” I said. “I’ll try your cell.”
As I dialed his cell phone number, I told myself that no matter what he said, I was not going to let him back into my life.
When he answered, I set him straight right off. “Troy, I don’t know what story you’ve concocted for us to get back together this time, but—”
“It’s cute that you’re flattering yourself, but I really do need to talk to you about something important, and it’s not about the two of us. It concerns the case I was working on before you left our office.”
“The high-school drug thing?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to tell you we’re about to do a big bust on a guy who graduated from C. J. Douglas High about four years ago.”
“That’s my old school. And my sister is a junior there now.”
“I know. A big drug dealer named Stone is running the school now.”
Mom’s frantic messages about my sister rushed to my mind. Lord, I thought, what was my sister into?
“We found out where Stone’s base operation is located, and we’re getting ready to reel him in. I’m casing the place right now.”
“Does this have something to do with my sister?”
“It might. About a month ago I saw a girl who looked like Crystal hanging out with this guy. Last week I confirmed it was definitely your sister.”
“What are you telling me?” I said, collapsing onto the bed.
“Crystal could go to jail if somebody doesn’t intervene. You know, I could lose my job over this, but your sister’s a good kid. I need you to get her away from Stone tonight.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“Stone dropped her off at Queenie’s Beauty Salon on Twenty-third Street about a half hour ago.”
“All right, I’ll go down there and tell her not to hang around with that guy anymore.”
“What? No, Chris, you know better than that. The Secret Service done erased the way we operate from that FBI brain of yours. You know better than that. You gotta do it on the low.”
“But that’s my sister!”
“I understand, but if she knows he’s in trouble, she’ll probably tip him off and the whole investigation will be blown. I’m trusting you to handle this discreetly.”
“What should I do?”
“Pick her up. Take her somewhere to eat. If she mentions Stone, try to get her to talk about him. I think they’ve got plans to get out of the country soon.”
“Crystal’s only fifteen. Surely they wouldn’t try to take her with them.”
“Chris, your sister’s in this up to her ears, but if she’s not there when the big bust goes through, I’m sure we can work out some kind of deal. Hey, I’ve gotta go. Stone’s on the move again.”
“Thanks for looking out.”
“Please,” he said, “I owe you much more than this.”
“Stop feeling that way. I did my job,” I said, hoping to get him to stop feeling like he owed me. “Will you call me and let me know what happens?”
“Definitely.”
The line went dead. I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. On the way to the beauty salon, I called my mom.
“Christian, I haven’t seen your sister in the last five days. Her principal says she hasn’t been in school. I know she’s been home, because every day when I get back from work there’s a note on the counter that says, ‘Don’t worry, Mom.’ How am I not supposed to worry? I’m sure she’s doing something she’s not supposed to.”
Revealing to my mom what Troy had told me undoubtedly violated my promise to be discreet, but I couldn’t just keep quiet. This was my mother’s baby. I had to tell her enough to keep her from having a heart attack. “Mom, I think I know where she is.”
“You do? Then come pick me up so we can go get her together.”
“I think it would be better if I tracked her down alone. I’ll call you as soon as I find her.”
“Well, if you don’t bring her back tonight, I’m gonna call the police.”
“All right, Mom. I’ve got to go now.”
“Thanks for handling this, baby.”
As I sped down the road, I wanted to kick myself for getting so busy that I hadn’t been checking in on my sister like I used to. With Mom working nights, Crystal didn’t have enough parental supervision, so I’d always tried to fill in the gap. But my job had kept me away and busy. So my little sister had turned to a drug dealer for comfort and security. The thought of that made my stomach boil.
When I met Stone months back, I knew he was no good. However, I never dreamed he was a criminal. I wished I would have called the cops on him for rape. He’s four years older than Crystal and taking her out of the country…this can’t happen.
I saw three hair salons on Twenty-third Street, but only one that looked like it specialized in the kind of bright-colored hair and crazy hairdos my sister had gotten into lately. Then I saw a fl
uorescent sign with QUEENIE’S on it and I knew I had the right place. I found a parking spot right outside the tinted glass door.
When I walked inside, I saw my sister sitting in one of the loud orange chairs. Behind her a tall, skinny stylist was spraying oil sheen on her hair. Crystal was wearing a super-tight outfit that made her breasts look bigger than mine.
“Hey, sis!” she called out when she saw me. “Nay-Nay, this is my big sister.”
“Is she the one that is an FBI agent?” her stylist, Nay-Nay, asked, popping her gum.
“Yep, but now she’s doing this job protecting the president.” Crystal beamed with pride. “I told her all about you,” she explained to me.
“Nice to meet you, Nay-Nay, but I don’t protect the president, yet—I’ve just got the back of a person hoping to be elected president,” I said, never wanting to misrepresent myself.
“You still the woman, carrying a piece and all,” Nay-Nay said as she reached out to give me dap.
“Whatcha doin’ here?” Crystal asked.
“I’ve got a big surprise for you,” I said, with what I hoped was an enticing grin.
“What is it? I don’t need no money. You know my man’s got a job.”
“It’s not money.” I grabbed her hand.
“Wait,” Nay-Nay whined. “I ain’t finished.”
“I’ll bring her back,” I promised. “Besides, her hair looks perfect.”
“It does?” Crystal checked herself out in the mirror.
“It can’t get any better than that,” I lied. “Now, come on.”
As we walked out of the salon, Nay-Nay hollered, “What you want me to tell your man when he comes back?”
“Tell him I’ll be right back,” Crystal called as I dragged her to my car.
“I don’t want him breakin’ no more mirrors like he did that time when he saw a guy talking to you.”
“Tell him I’m with my sister,” Crystal instructed as I shoved her into the passenger seat.
The worry in my sister’s voice over what her guy would think frightened me. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but whatever it took, I was determined to get her away from Stone.
Chasing Faith Page 13