“I won’t hurt you, Jessica. On my honor, I will treat you with the greatest respect and kindness.”
She sighed deeply this time. Her head was agreeing with her heart and blasting out the words, “SAY YES, YOU DAMN FOOL!”
I’m trusting you, Lord. She silently prayed. Trusting, that this man you brought into my life, is, for those reasons I’ve only wished and hoped for.
“Cooking classes, hah?” She couldn’t help, but tease.
“That and more,” he replied.
“Then, I would love nothing more.”
His smile told her, that he was ecstatic and his joy filled her with happiness.
She did not doubt the decision she had just made. She could see a life with this man, beyond the politics, beside him, supporting him, working with him on future campaigns, if that was to be. Her future looked bright, whether at his side as a member of his executive staff, or known as the man, who stole her heart. Whatever position she was to hold in his life, she would welcome the possibilities.
The waiter approached their table, when Bryan turned to signal him for the check.
“It’s been a long day and we’ve got an early start tomorrow,” he offered. “I can either take you back to the garage for your car, or drop you home and pick you up in the morning. Which do you prefer?”
“Do you think my car will be safe, after what happened?”
“You’re in an executive staff section that’s patrolled by the Capitol Police on a regular basis. It’ll be fine, and I kind of like the idea of driving my date home.”
“So, you had this planned, as an official date all along?”
“Am I bad?” He pouted playfully.
She smiled in return. He was a man a woman simply could never say no too, but she’d keep him guessing anyways.
“Shall we go then?” She answered, rising from her chair.
He popped up quickly, chuckling lightly, as he moved around and pulled her chair back out of her way.
She loved the feel of his palm against her back, as he led her toward the entrance. She couldn’t help, but wonder, if he would attempt kissing her goodnight. One thing was certain though … she wouldn’t shy away … if he did.
---
The drive home to her Aunt’s house was a pleasant one, filled with more personal conversation. He prodded a little about her parents, her relationship with her Aunt, what she liked to do, and where she saw herself in the next five years.
She didn’t hold back answering and was quite pleased, when he shared her sentiments. He wasn’t guarded about wanting a family … four kids exactly … two boys and two girls, if luck had it. She loved that he had a deep-seeded passion for making the streets safe, giving the less advantaged a better chance to improve their lifestyles, and get the homeless into workable shelters and create opportunities, where they could be self-sufficient once again.
Her Aunt’s house was dark, except for the sconces on each side of the front door, and the security lights that went on as they entered the long driveway.
He reached for her hand to help her exit his car and did not let go of it, as he escorted her to the front door. She loved the feel of her fingers entwined with us and hated breaking the connection, when she searched in her purse for her keys.
The tone of his voice was warm and seductive, as he asked, “May I kiss you, goodnight.”
Her voice was of no use, as the words lodged in her throat. All she could manage was a simple nod.
It was the only acknowledgment he needed, as he reached up to take hold of her face tenderly. He lowered his mouth slowly, as if to torture her, making her gasp ever-so-slightly. It was worth the wait though, as the warmth of his lips covered hers.
His kiss was firm, and slow, and consuming. This was a man, who knew how to kiss a woman and forever bond her to him. The way he held her face in his hands, made her feel like a cherished, prized, porcelain collection.
She stepped closer, bodies touching, feeling his heat pass through her, and she was spellbound.
The moments passed, and when he pulled his lips from hers, she had all to do to not whimper her disappointment. She held strong, took a step back, managed to find the keyhole, and whispered her goodnight.
“Seven a.m., beautiful,” he called out, as she entered the lobby of her Aunt’s home. “I’ll pick you up with a light latte, and no sugar to go.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jessica just finished a conversation, when her intercom buzzed, and she answered it immediately.
“Yes, Senator.”
“Jessica I need you and Connor in here quick!”
“Right away,” she replied, curious as to the urgency in his voice. She quickly popped from her seat and scurried to Connor’s office. The door was open and she poked her head around the corner. “Something’s up. Bryan wants us in his office pronto!”
They entered via the connecting door just in time to see a news break flashing across the flat screen, hanging over the credenza in Bryan’s spacious office.
“Good afternoon Channel 10 viewers. This is Bob Killian, bringing you a special report from field reporter, Yancy Hamilton, now live at the Governor’s Mansion. Yancy, can you tell us what is happening?”
“Bob, we’ve just received word, that Governor Michaelson’s second youngest son, Warren, has been fatally wounded during a conflict with convicted killer, Luther Corbat, who escaped transport a short while ago to the state penitentiary at Dannemora.
From reports coming in with officers on the scene, Trooper Michaelson, was on patrol in the Indian Lake Region South of Route 30, when a call was dispatched requesting his assistance in the interception of a late model grey, Chevy sedan believed to be driven by Corbat.
For those of you, who may not remember, Luther Corbat, was convicted of murder and robbery and sentenced to serve his time on death row. Corbat apparently ran a check-point set up by Trooper Michaelson outside the town of Newcomb. Corbat bolted from the stolen car , firing. The exchange was said to last only a matter of minutes, before back-up from other local authorities arrived on the scene.
Trooper Michaelson was shot, but managed to incapacitate Corbat, before he went down.” Hamilton provided.
“Yancy”, Killian continued questioning, “have we had any word on where they have taken both? Is the Governor’s son expected to survive?”
Yancy replied. “Bob, both were transported by State Police helicopter to Gloversville Medical Center. Corbat has received medical attention and will be transferred to the infirmary at Dannemora under heavy guard within the hour. The Governor’s son, however, was not as fortunate and undergoing surgery in a fight for his life for removal of a bullet lodged just below his heart.”
“Has the Governor left for Gloversville?”
“He is, Bob, along with the First Lady. As you can see,” she turned and pointed skyward, “a state police helicopter is just now taking off.”
“Thank you, Yancy.” The camera directed back to the anchor. “Well, you’ve heard it first here and, if you’re just tuning in, Governor Richard Michaelson’s 21-year-old son, State Trooper Warren Michaelson, has been shot by convicted killer and escapee, Luther Corbat, just minutes ago. Corbat, who was in turn shot by Trooper Michaelson, is now in custody and awaiting transference within the hour to Dannemora State Penitentiary.
We will have a special report following the six o’clock news this evening, and hopefully, will have an update, as to the condition of the Governor’s son, who is now undergoing surgery in a battle to save his life. Our prayers are with him and his family. We will now return you to the regularly scheduled program still in progress. This is Bill Killian reporting with Channel 10 news.”
Connor was the first to speak, breaking the moment of silence in the room, as Bryan switched off the tv.
“Senator, this, you know, will tip the scales in your favor. Callous as it may sound, but it’s true.”
Jessica concurred. “He’s right. Michaelson was always borderline. Now, that
this has hit so close to home, the probability of him signing is stronger than ever. This may just prove the deciding factor.”
The look on his face was grave. Jessica knew he didn’t want to win this way, but fate had a way sometimes, trumping the cards in one’s favor.
He vocalized her thoughts.
“I know. I … I just don’t want anyone to think I’m riding on this personal tragedy for my own gain.” Warily, he rubbed at his forehead, rose and paced back and forth before them.
“Look, Bryan,” Connor spoke in a concerned tone, “let us do the worrying. You just debate the issue like you’ve been doing all along. The people will know you’re just doing the job you were elected to do. It’s not anything they haven’t heard before. This issue’s been debated for years. Don’t forget, three-quarters of the people in this state already wanted it. What happened just now,” he pointed, “will sway damn near the rest of them.”
Jessica stepped forward, reaching for his forearm tenderly, smiling weakly.
“Connor is right, Bryan. What’s important, is not sitting back in the corner. It’s time to fight harder and continue the pressure, until it passes both houses. Now that it’s out of committee, there’s no stopping it.”
Bryan threw his hands into the air in supplication.
“I know. I know.”
Jessica and Connor exchanged worried looks. Nothing else was said, while their boss continued to pace before them for a matter of seconds, before returning to his chair and sitting down.
When he looked up and saw them both standing there he remarked, “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s get this done. Jessica, dig out the files we need for a conference with the membership following the close of session in the East Lobby meeting room. Connor, get everyone on the phones, advising the member’s offices I’ve got an announcement to make they need to hear, or, they may find themselves with egg on their faces, once I go public, if they don’t show. Say nothing else.”
“Yes, boss!” They chimed in unison, exiting his office shoulder-to-shoulder, discussing his strategy.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The East Lobby meeting room was a rumble of activity, as thirty co-sponsors of the death penalty bill huddled about, along with the majority and minority leaders of the house, and the rest of the members. There was a cloud of both apprehension and anticipation that hung heavy overhead, as they anxiously awaited the appearance of the Codes Committee Chairman and his heads of staff to arrive.
Somehow, they all individually knew this meeting was going to make history, whether in their favor, or not.
They twiddled their fingers, replied to text messages, quietly engaged in conversation with those sitting to their left, or right. Heads simultaneously snapped to attention with precision, as Bryan entered the room with Connor and Jessica at his flank.
Quickly, Bryan scanned the faces of the men before him.
What a sorrowful lot, he thought. If this is what it takes to see righteousness prevail, so be it.
“Gentlemen, I’m sure you have some sense of why I’ve chosen to call you all here so urgently. I will not waste your time and cut to the chase. I’m tired of the rhetoric. Tired of wash room agreements and sucking someone’s dick to push imperative issues through committees.” There was a loud buzz in the room, but he spoke over it. “I was nominated and elected by down-home, hardworking people, who believe we’re here to represent them in an honest fashion. I’ve been told to my face, that my bills will only see passage, if I jump through the hoops I’m directed too.
You see, gentlemen, if nothing else, I value my self-respect and falling asleep every night with a clear conscience. Many of you in this room can’t say that.”
The outburst could have lifted the roof from its rafters. He honestly expected the steam to burst from their ears and noses.
Good, he thought. I’ve got their attention. Wait until they hear I’m sponsoring a bill to cut their terms to eight years.
Bryan had it! The bastards, holding office for more than twenty years, were bankrupting this state, while filling their own coffers. There were thieves and swindlers sitting in front of him, puppets of oil barons, the top three insurance companies, and leading pharmaceuticals. It was time to clean the people’s house of corruption.
“I will not plea bargain and, giving you sufficient notice. This matter is not up for discussion or a vote. My decision is irreversible. Either join my battle to take the death penalty to the people, or drown on your own.
We’ve hacked at this issue for the past eight years. Like a repeating recording, we debate it to death, solving nothing, while innocent people are being murdered day after day. I will not continue to sit back and ignore what’s happening around us. The public … our people, gentlemen, are not only being killed, but butchered by crazed animals like the Luther Corbat’s in this world. The number of deaths have climbed, and keep climbing by repeat offenders, who don’t give a damn about human life.
The crazed, unstable, corrupted, and sadistic killers in our society laugh at justice in the face, because they know three square meals and a roof over their heads waits for them, not death.
I cannot nor will I turn a stone ear to my people. You keep doing so. I intend to do something now! I have called for a news conference first thing tomorrow morning in the Senate’s conference room. If you support me, be there at 8:45. If not, too damn bad.”
Bryan looked them all squarely in the eyes, then turned and departed, leaving them to talk amongst themselves, fume openly, or seek refuse in the privacy of their own offices.
---
The absolute quiet, which followed Sen. Gallagher’s departure was uncanny. One could almost hear a pin drop and the wheels turning in the minds of the senate leaders occupying the room.
Sen. Martin Talbot stood up and cut through the silence in an authoritative tone.
“I truly envy, that young man. He had the balls to do, what many of us wanted to do for fucking years!” He chuckled lightly, as he ran his fingers through his thick, gray locks. His eyes scanned the faces of those colleagues sitting in front, to the side, and back of him.
He was a distinguished man in his mid-fifties and noted for his fair-game politics. He was one of those old timers, serving almost twenty years. He was also known as a man, who took shit from no one. His policies took a while to pass, but eventually did, without selling his soul to the devil.
Sen. Warren Shaughnessy, was a man, who felt differently though, and didn’t mind expressing his ire.
“Are you all fools? Come on! Have you no idea what the repercussions could be over this? Promises have been made and …”
“Sit down, Shaughnessy,” Sen. Malcolm Scott shouted. He was Chairman of the Senate Ways & Means Committee. When he spoke, people listened. “We don’t need to hear that shit. Marty’s right, and you god damn well know it!” He was a robust man and his thick crop of greying, red hair matched his rising temper, as his cheeks flushed brightly. “Are we pissed? Yes. Why? Because, he made us see a side to ourselves, we don’t like.”
“Still,” Shaughnessy cut in, “how do we know supporting him is the right choice? Christ, man. A lot of those people out there take our word as gospel. Do we have the moral obligation to vote yes, if our constituency say no. Referendums are great for some things, not this. We’re supposed to lead.”
Sen. Maxwell Harriman laughed loudly, shaking his head and cut in.
“I don’t believe this. You really think you’re some kind of a god, for Christ’s sake, don’t you?” Harriman couldn’t sit still any longer. He was a nervous sort and known to cover the floor, when debating an issue. Now, was no exception, as he rose. “Gallagher’s not asking the people to press for a referendum. He’s going to tell them to put the pressure on us. It has started already!” He raised his cell phone to make a point. “Check with your own offices. The phones in mine are ringing off the frigging walls. Constituents are reacting on their own.”
More members stood, nodding their heads i
n agreement, many speaking out, some louder than others, wishing to be heard.
Sen. Talbot cut through the bedlam with one of those shrilling whistle calls a parent would give in the old days, calling the kids home for the night. It worked as the room went silent and he got their attention.
“We were all elected by the people in our districts to represent them and their concerns. Ask yourselves. Have you? Do you? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I will be there tomorrow, doing the right thing. If you’re smart, you’ll do the same.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ever since the shooting hit the air waves, every Senate office was inundated with phone calls from constituents, local leaders, and religious activists. The callers in support of justice being served, outweighed those in opposition of the death penalty bill being passed. An “eye for an eye” was their cry. More than not, threatened not to support their representative’s reelection in less than four weeks, if they did not abide to their wishes.
It wasn’t long before the media heard about the leadership meeting. Quickly, they descended upon the Capitol with camera crews in tow, chasing down as many leaders as they could find for an interview.
Their attempts were futile, as members hid themselves behind closed doors, until they absolutely needed to make an appearance.
The public was going to see a side to Bryan, they never witnessed before. His speech could cause a tidal wave not seen on the plaza in quite some time. His return from the conference meeting was a solemn one. He informed his entire staff the moment he walked through the office, that he did not wish to be disturbed for any reason whatsoever. He expected them to hold the press at bay and relay he would hold all comments, until the press meeting the following morning.
A Pawn for Malice Page 10