Homicide in the House

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Homicide in the House Page 23

by Colleen J. Shogan


  “But that post fingered me as the killer.” Maeve pointed to herself. “Why would you write something accusatory like that when you were trying to help Kit find the real killer?”

  Trevor rubbed his forehand nervously. “That’s a fair question. I never thought you killed Jack, Representative Dixon. But my motives in helping Kit’s informal investigation were more self-interested, I admit. Once Hill Rat’s identity was revealed, I would be named a prime suspect—in that the police would think I killed Jack to silence him. Before my identity was compromised, it was imperative the case was solved. I figured releasing the information about the gavel would speed things up since there would be more pressure on Kit to find the guilty party.”

  Maeve gave Trevor a skeptical look. “That was a big gamble. It might have ruined my reputation in Washington.”

  “Temporarily, yes. But once the real killer was discovered, I believed you would rebound politically.” Trevor smiled cautiously.

  Maeve remained silent, but I could tell Trevor would not be a welcome guest in the office of Representative Maeve Dixon.

  Judy took advantage of the lull in the conversation. “I read in the newspaper that Trent Roscoe was apprehended in the Cannon Tunnel and several of you helped catch him. Were you simply in the right place at the right time?”

  With a considerable degree of sarcasm, Doug said, “Hardly.”

  Meg sat up straighter in her chair. “I can tell this part of the story!” With a dramatic gesture of my hand, I gave her the floor.

  Meg smoothed her bob and smiled eagerly. “After Kit determined the spare gavel was missing, she ran off. Melinda tried to stop her but Kit was in too much of a hurry.”

  Melinda broke in, “I wanted her to examine the C-SPAN footage of the House floor on the night in question so we could see which staffers and members of Congress were on the dais. The camera angles might have prevented us from seeing the murderer swap the gavel, but we could have scanned the various shots to confirm who was close to the Speaker’s desk around the time Representative Dixon presided over the chamber.”

  Meg gave a dismissive wave. “Kit didn’t have time for more sleuthing. But our trusty press gallery friend had a hunch something wasn’t right.”

  Melinda nodded. “After Kit left, I scanned the video online. It’s simple to do if you know how to use the online C-SPAN search engine and there’s a specific time of day you want to view. Sure enough, Gareth Pressler wasn’t on the dais. But Trent Roscoe did appear in several shots.”

  Meg offered, “Melinda emailed Kit, but thought she’d also better reach out to someone else who could notify her.”

  Melinda continued the story. “The only person I knew connected to Kit was Professor Hollingsworth. Luckily, I still had his contact information in my phone. When I was a student in his class at Georgetown, I used to text him all the time with questions about assignments.” She blushed, confirming the crush I already suspected.

  Doug said, “When I got Melinda’s message, I knew Kit was in trouble. If she accused the wrong person, it would only cast more suspicion on Representative Dixon. When my texts went unanswered, I contacted Meg. Luckily, I was already on the Hill that day due to Clarence’s grooming appointment. The three of us agreed to meet in the Capitol.”

  Meg was so excited to tell her part of the story, she could hardly remain seated. “Once we found each other, we decided to head to Kit’s office in Cannon.” Meg paused briefly, allowing the suspense to build. “That’s when we saw her charging down the tunnel, pointing at Trent.”

  Judy’s eyes were wide with astonishment. Clearly impressed by the drama of the story, she asked, “Didn’t I read that your dog had something to do with apprehending Trent?”

  Doug chuckled. “That detail has made for good press fodder. It was not Trent’s evil nature but his general nastiness that ultimately cooked his goose. He stole Kit’s snack after locking her up in the abandoned café. He was chomping on the cookies as he walked down the hallway. Clarence was already exuberant because he saw Kit running toward us. Given his healthy appetite, he lunged for the goodies. Classic Clarence, I’m afraid.”

  Meg pointed to herself with fingers from both hands. “And that gave me the opportunity to kick Trent right where it hurt. He folded like a house of cards!”

  I laughed. “It was a lovely finishing touch. Couldn’t you see the Capitol Hill Police behind me, though?”

  Meg replied, “Sure, but why take chances? He deserved it.”

  Finishing off her wine, Judy donned her coat. “I’ve got to run. Now that the government shutdown is over, it’s time to think about my new job on K Street. But I’m not the only one with a new job these days.” Judy gave me a knowing smile.

  “It’s official. Can we let everyone know?” I directed my question toward my boss.

  Rising, Representative Dixon said loudly, “Can I have everyone’s attention?” Everyone quieted down immediately. Some people had the ability to command a room, and Maeve was one of them.

  “For the rest of my political career and my life, for that matter, I will be grateful to Kit and those who helped solve Jack’s murder. Because of your sleuthing, I have a future. Above all, I want to thank everyone for believing in me.” She raised her glass, and the rest of the crowd followed suit.

  She kept the floor. “I’m not done! The best thing to happen from this fiasco is that I’m honored to name Kit Marshall as my new chief of staff.”

  Cheers erupted from the crowd. Doug and Meg knew about the appointment, but I hadn’t shared the news with anyone else.

  Rising once again to my feet, I said, “Thank you, Representative Dixon. I’m proud to work for you. I’m going to need a great deal of help as I begin my new position. I have two announcements in that regard. First, Judy Talent has agreed to serve as my mentor. Judy had a terrific career on Capitol Hill and she’s going to teach me everything I need to know. Right, Judy?”

  Judy was busy texting on her phone, but then, she was the consummate multitasker. “You got it, sister.”

  I grinned. “The other announcement also involves a talented female Capitol Hill staffer. Since I will assume the chief of staff role next week, Representative Dixon needs a new legislative director. I’m thrilled to name Meg Peters as our new LD for the office!”

  This time, the cheers were even louder. People yelled “speech, speech” to persuade Meg to say a few words.

  She wiped away several tears. “The United States Congress can be a tough place to work. But toiling away with a friend you trust makes the effort worthwhile. I didn’t hesitate one moment when Kit offered me the job.”

  Only Trevor seemed skeptical. “You’re leaving a professional committee staff position for this opportunity?”

  Meg, never a Trevor fan, answered in a snippy tone. “Yes, I am. It turns out committee investigations weren’t for me. And, by the way, I have an announcement, too.”

  “What news?” I asked.

  “I broke up with Kyle last night. We got into another fight about my job. No relationship is worth that much heartache. The good news is that I’m a single woman again!”

  Trevor rolled his eyes and muttered softly under his breath, “Head for the hills.” I also saw Doug grimace. No doubt, he liked Meg better when she was attached. With a boyfriend in tow, she was more predictable and restrained. My favorite Capitol Hill flirt was back in business. Last time I checked, living vicariously wasn’t a mortal sin.

  I gave Meg a hug. “I’m sorry about Kyle.”

  She waved me off. “No worries. Besides, I can’t be attached right now.”

  “Dare I ask why not?”

  Meg leaned in and gave my arm a squeeze. “Because there can’t be any restrictions on our next adventure!”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  After another hour of celebration, Doug and I exited the bar and breathed in the crisp air. The wind was still and the temperature didn’t require gloves or hats, a welcome change from the dreariness that typically boo
kended January and February in Washington.

  We strolled down Pennsylvania Avenue in contented silence. When we were about to turn left toward the Capitol South Metro, he grabbed my hand. “Let’s keep strolling down First Street.” With no work tomorrow and the Fahrenheit cooperating, I agreed.

  We walked past the ornate Jefferson Building, the crown jewel of the Library of Congress, and Neptune’s Fountain, the ornate statue that greeted visitors. Modeled after the Trevi Fountain in Rome, it wasn’t quite as spectacular as the Italian masterpiece, but still provided a regal touch of classicism in harmony with the awesome splendor of the Capitol situated diagonally across the street.

  Doug pulled me in the direction of the dome. After looking both ways, we crossed First Street to reach the east front of the Capitol. A large expanse of grass and concrete landscape separated the actual Capitol Building from the street. Doug led me down a pathway lit by rustic streetlamps. The shutdown having just ended, no tourists shared the grand expanse with us. They’d been deterred from visiting while the monuments and other attractions had been shuttered. Tomorrow, the bustle would return to Washington D.C., but for now, we relished the serenity.

  With the steps of the Capitol directly ahead of us, Doug jerked me to the right. I asked, “What are you doing? I’d like to look at the dome at night for a moment. Isn’t it beautiful when it’s illuminated and the sky is clear behind it?”

  Doug pulled us underneath a big tree. According to the metal marker on its trunk, it was an American beech as old as the Capitol itself. He turned to face me directly before he spoke. “I’m not interested in the Capitol Dome tonight.”

  I laughed uneasily. This wasn’t like Doug. He was either laid-back or absentminded—take your pick—but rarely melodramatic.

  He ignored my awkward laugh. “Kit, I know I’ve acted strangely the past couple of months. You’ve been incredibly busy with your job, but the whole time, I was preoccupied, too.”

  I gulped. I didn’t like the sound of this. “What do you mean?”

  “I was keeping a secret.”

  Terrific. I’d finally sorted out Jack’s murder, my job, and the federal government shutdown. Now my boyfriend was about to unload something horrible. I braced myself, both mentally and physically, for his revelation.

  “Go on. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you?”

  “Actually, I don’t. If you’re going to break up with me, then let’s not beat around the bush.”

  He smiled. “You’ve been working in the doom and gloom too long, Kit. This isn’t about breaking up. This is about making our relationship permanent.”

  Doug knelt down on one knee and withdrew a black velvet box from his coat pocket.

  I gasped. Then I covered my eyes with my hands in disbelief. “You’re going to propose!”

  Now it was Doug’s turn to laugh. “Yes, Kit. For a detective, it took a lot of clues before you figured it out. I’ve been preoccupied because I’ve had the ring for a while, but there’s never been a right time to give it to you. I decided tonight was it.”

  He opened up the box, and a beautiful diamond ring sparkled back at me. Instinctively, I reached for it, but Doug pulled it back.

  “Not so fast. You didn’t answer the question yet.”

  “What question?” Two could play at this game.

  “Kit Marshall, congressional staffer extraordinaire and amateur sleuth, will you marry me?”

  For once, I was speechless. I whispered “yes” before jumping into Doug’s arms. Quite appropriately, the nighttime illumination of the Capitol caused my newly adorned ring finger to sparkle.

  * * *

  Photo by Glen Fuhrmeister,

  GF Photography

  Colleen J. Shogan is a senior executive at the Library of Congress. She is the former deputy director of the Congressional Research Service and previously served as a staffer in the United States Senate. A political scientist by training, Colleen has taught American government at Georgetown University, Penn, and George Mason.

  Colleen is a native of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She received her BA from Boston College and her doctorate from Yale. A member of Sisters in Crime, she lives in Arlington, Virginia, with her husband Rob Raffety and their rescue mutt, Conan.

  For more information, please visit:

  www.colleenshogan.com

 

 

 


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