by Frank Perry
answered, “Kohl.”
“Hey, you called?”
“Yeah. How about dinner tonight? I’m bouncing around the Hill for a couple more hours then I’ll be home by five. How about I pick you up at six?”
“Umm. I should really stay here tonight. I’ve got a couple orders to get out and got behind listening to the boss for the last hour.”
“So, is that a ‘no’?”
“I guess not. But let’s not drive anywhere. I’ll come to your (King Street Metro) Station. Let’s meet there and walk down to the river.”
“You want to mingle with the tourists?”
“No, I’d just like to wander through the shops in Old Town. Why? You don’t want to walk around holding my hand?”
“You put it that way, how can I refuse...six then at the station?”
“It’s a date.”
Laura Malone grew up in Maryland on the Eastern Shore. She attended a small regional high school where she was active in athletics, playing varsity girls soccer for three years and swimming all four years. In her junior and senior years, she was a football cheerleader. She tried to overcome her shyness, but had learned to accept herself as an introvert.
When she finished college three years earlier, she took a position as an entry-level buyer in Washington with the Federal Aviation Administration. The FAA provided purchasing services for many other agencies, including the United States Border Patrol (USBP) in the DHS (Department of Homeland Security).
Hunter Kohl met Laura over the phone when he worked at the San Diego Border Sector. She managed a few small purchases for the Sector and Hunter was her “customer.” They talked on the phone often about official business, but eventually the discussions became more personal. They were both single, and, when Hunter took the job for the state under his sister, he called Laura after moving to Washington. They first met face to face a month after he settled in Alexandria, beginning a relationship that was growing progressively closer. Laura was a bit shy, and it was probably the distance of the telephone interface that allowed a friendship to develop before they actually met. She was pretty, and several young men had either failed to connect through the usual pickup approaches, or were intimidated by her appearance. She could buy clothes off the rack that fit perfectly around her slim five-five frame. Her naturally wavy brunette hair was shoulder length and her eyes were a brilliant shade of green.
She was career-minded and grew up intending to work for the Government like her parents. The DHS protected Americans on home turf and fit nicely with her aspirations. She graduated at the top of her class from the University of Maryland with a degree in accounting.
Hunter was new to politics when he transferred to Washington. He was recruited by his sister, who managed California’s Drug Enforcement Office at the capital in Sacramento. Although he worked for the state, he was transferred immediately to Washington, DC, to be a liaison for federal legislation to end drug violence that was ruining the state’s economy. He had been with the Border Patrol for four years, involved in several firefights with smugglers along the desert border. Before the Border Patrol, Hunter had been in the Navy, trained as a SEAL, working with Team One in San Diego. As a native Californian, he loved the state and was passionate about improving conditions for its residents. He didn’t know much about how Government worked on any level before coming to Washington, but it wasn’t hard to understand his role once immersed in the process. His sister wanted someone she could trust completely on the ground and arranged for Leigh Bryant to mentor him.
That evening at six o’clock, he stood at the bottom of the Metro station escalator waiting for her to arrive from work. Her train arrived ten minutes later. She waived from the elevated platform when exiting the train dressed in a light print skirt and blue cotton top. She looked gorgeous and fresh, suspiciously like she had gone home before coming to meet him. She lived in Arlington near the blue line, convenient for stopping before continuing on to his station.
At the bottom, they embraced momentarily and kissed. She asked, “Been here long?”
“Just got here. You look terrific by the way.” She wore sneakers (Washington high heels). He wore Khaki shorts and a white polo shirt. They made a handsome couple. Both were tall and fit.
They walked together out of the station heading east, along King Street toward the River. It was almost a mile to the historic part of Alexandria along the Potomac. He was tempted to put his arm around her waist, but it was too hot and humid -- they held hands. They walked slowly past the small shops along the street that had been renovated from reclaimed brownstone houses. For more than a century after the civil war, the older parts of Alexandria decayed before the town began an aggressive renewal program. The characteristic antique two-story buildings were derelicts only thirty years earlier, but now represented some of the most expensive real estate in suburban Washington.
As they crossed Washington Street, the sidewalk began sloping toward the river. A concert on the common by Town Hall provided background music for them as they ambled past, and the river smells became more evident. At the end of the street, the Torpedo Factory housed artisans in all art forms. Street performers entertained the crowds along the waterfront. The factory had once been used to build and test torpedoes in the Potomac River through the Second World War. Hunt and Laurie came here often. King Street in Old Town was near to his apartment and they frequently wandered along its cobbled length toward the river, looking in various boutiques, but seldom bought anything. Their destination was the Chart House restaurant on the river. The evening was cool enough by the water for them to eat outside on the elevated deck. They were walking hand in hand near the restaurant.
After seating, she said, “Hunt, I’m glad you called me away tonight. I was getting into a rut and you saved me.”
“That’s me, always ready to save a lady in distress.”
“I hope that only means me!”
“You’re the only lady for me, sweetheart.”
He ordered an ice tea, and she had a diet coke, declining to look at the menus for a few minutes. The sun had dipped enough that the headlights and taillights across the distant Woodrow Wilson Bridge provided a brilliant display across the river. A replica side-wheeler boat departed the dock below them, heading up the river toward Georgetown with hundreds of people aboard. Hunter and Laurie were enjoying the ambiance.
She had an inquisitive look on her face. “Can I ask you a question, Hunt?”
“Sure.”
“Do you ever date anyone else?”
“Laurie, I haven’t even thought about anyone but you since I got here, and you know there’s no one for me in California.”
“So, we’ve known each other over two years, dated casually about a year ago, and now see each other as often as we can.”
“Yeah, isn’t it great!”
“What’s next, Hunter? Are we ever going to go further in our relationship?”
He thought for a moment before answering, and she was growing more distressed by his delay. “I...I hadn’t thought too much about it. Correction, I think about it all the time, but I’m not sure what to do. I guess I’m so happy now that I don’t want to risk losing you.”
“How would you lose me?”
“I guess I’m nervous about assuming too much and being pushy.”
“So, you’re afraid to go the next step?”
“Laurie, I want this to last forever and don’t want to go too fast and scare you away. It’s happened to a couple of my buddies.”
“Oh, you take your cues from other lame guys?”
“I guess I’m afraid.”
She smiled and took his hand, “Don’t be.”
He put his other hand on the table to take hers when his cellphone rang. He let it ring, staring at her in silence. When it ended, he started to speak, when it rang again. He dropped her hand saying, “Excuse me.”
He answered “Kohl.”
Laura watched his
expression change, only able to hear half of the conversation. He said, “Claire. Claire, calm down...What do you mean they found it? What does it mean?...Look, I’ll call you later...Yeah, I’ll try...You call me when they get it up...Okay. And Claire, I love you, sweetheart. Try to be tough until we know more.”
Laurie was staring at him as he put the phone back into his pocket. “So, who’s Claire? You just called her sweetheart.”
He didn’t look at her immediately. “She’s my sister in California.”
“Okay, then I’ll make an exception. You look worried?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of a hard situation.” He took a deep breath. “She’s calling about her husband.”
“Is something wrong Hunt with them?” She was holding his hand on the table again.
He had a distressed appearance. “It’s kind of a long story.”
She squeezed his hands. “I’m not in a hurry.”
He started. “My sister Claire works for the Governor in California, managing the state’s drug control program.” Laura had known this from earlier conversations, but didn’t know his sister’s name was Claire. “Anyway, she’s married to a State Attorney named José Rivera. José drafted a state law to permit some drugs that are currently illegal to be produced and sold in California under state controls. The idea was to make it unnecessary for the illegal trade that is killing so many people and costing so much money to fight. Something like twenty percent of the