The Advocate's Daughter (22 page)

“It seemed weird, but she said it was for my own good. I thought it was someone married maybe. She asked me as a friend to leave it be, so I did.”

Sean felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. A married man?

Emily continued, undeterred. “Did she have any problems—things she'd probably share with a friend, but not her mom and dad?”

Michelle's eyes fell to the table. Without looking up she said, “The officer from the Supreme Court asked me the same thing. Looking back on it, that last week, Abby was super stressed out. She said everything was crashing in on her all at once.”

“Do you know what she meant? What was crashing in on her?”

“At first I thought it was just about the man she was seeing. She said she was gonna break up with Malik, but she was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Of what he might do. But it was more than Malik.” Michelle took a slow drink of her latte. “She said her little brother got into some mess. And she said something about going to a jail out in Virginia. After she went, she said a man approached her and warned her to back off.”

“Did she say who that was?” Emily asked.

“She didn't tell me,” Michelle answered. “She just called him ‘Mole Face,' like he was a rat or something.”

Sean and Emily shared a glance. Ryan had seen a man with a mole on his face following Sean the night on the football field. But Kenny Baldwin didn't have a mole. Neither did Senator James.

Michelle continued, “But she seemed most freaked out about some research she'd been doing. She asked me if I knew anyone who could translate some newspapers.”

“Translate?” Emily said.

“Yeah, she had Japanese newspapers and she needed them translated.”

Sean thought about Kenny Baldwin.
I just told her what he wanted me to say.
Sean remembered his hunt through the attic, Jack saying Abby was up there looking in the
JAPAN
box. After Kenny approached her, maybe she went snooping and found the newspaper clipping Sean had kept about the storekeeper's death and made a copy. She was a great researcher. Maybe those led to more newspapers. It hit him again that the last thing she would have thought about her dad was that he was a killer.

Emily pressed on. “Did you help her get them translated?”

“I didn't know anyone who spoke Japanese, so no.”

“Do you know if she ever got the translation?”

Michelle shook her head. “I would have come to you if I thought it was something serious, but I didn't—”

“Do you have
any
idea who the man she was seeing is?” Sean asked. “Did you ever see him?”

“I honestly don't know,” Michelle said. “But I know someone who got a look at him.” Apparently Abby had once borrowed Michelle's apartment in Adams Morgan to meet with her mystery man. Michelle shared the place with her older brother, and he'd come home early, interrupting Abby and the guy.

“Do you think we could speak with your brother?” Emily asked.

Michelle nodded and began tapping on her phone. A return chime came quickly. Sean was surprised when Michelle said, “He's on his way.”

 

CHAPTER 56

In the cramped seat of Douglas O'Leary's bicycle rickshaw, Sean held his hand over his eyes, shielding them from the sun as he and Emily bumped and jerked down New Jersey Avenue. Sean had been surprised that Michelle's brother could meet with them so quickly until she explained that he worked nearby: a bike taxi shuttling tourists around the National Mall. In the first of many quirks her brother had, he would speak with them only if they agreed to take a ride. Douglas wore cutoff shorts, white tube socks pulled to his calves, and a straw fedora over unruly ginger hair. He had pale skin with acne on his cheeks and chin. And, unlike his sister, whose eyes brimmed with intelligence, Douglas avoided eye contact. He also had a slight stutter, but that did not slow down his urge to fill all silence with the sound of his voice.

Douglas peddled intensely, twisting around to talk every minute or so. The back of his shirt had a large oval sweat stain. “The groundbreaking for the Capitol was in 1793 and George Washington laid the cornerstone,” he said, pointing at the dome. “The District is divided into quadrants and the Capitol is the center of the divide.” He curved onto Northwest Drive, then made his way to Madison where he stood on the pedals all the way down the center of the National Mall toward the Washington Monument. He pointed to the Smithsonian building, a red Norman structure that looked like a castle, and told them that the Smithsonian had nineteen museums and nine research centers. He started to explain why the base of the Washington Monument was made from a different color marble than the rest of the monument, but Sean, growing impatient, asked Douglas to pull over near one of the food carts lining the street. Sean pried himself out of the rickshaw and bought three bottled waters from the vendor. He handed one to Douglas. After the man took a long gulp, Sean said, “Douglas, I appreciate the tour, but we have something important to talk with you about, like your sister mentioned.”

Douglas exhaled loudly. “I only have a little more of the tour to tell you about.”

“I know, but I have an appointment soon and don't have much time. I'd love to finish it on any other day. You're very knowledgeable about the city.”

At this Douglas nodded.

Emily spoke next. “Did Michelle tell you what happened to our daughter, Abby?”

Douglas's lips tightened and he looked out in the distance. “Abby was always nice to me.”

“You may be able to help us catch who hurt her,” Emily said.

Douglas nodded again and then took a long gulp of his water. He crunched the empty bottle and launched it toward a trash can, missing the shot.

Sean said, “Michelle mentioned that one day you came home, and Abby and a man were in your apartment?”

Douglas stared at the tree limbs that swayed above, thinking. “Yes, I remember that day.”

“Did you get a look at the man she was with? Could you tell us what he looked like?”

Douglas wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “He wore a suit, I remember.”

“That's helpful. Do you remember anything else, how old he was, for instance?”

Douglas tilted his head, his blotchy forehead wrinkling. “Older than her. Maybe your age.”

Sean felt a sting in his chest.

“Had you ever seen him before?”

Douglas nodded.

Sean looked at Emily. “You'd seen him before? At the apartment?”

“Not at the apartment.”

“Where?”

“I'm not sure. Hey, do you want to finish the tour?”

Sean took in a breath. Patience.

Emily pulled her iPhone from her handbag and tapped on it until an image appeared. Sean looked at the screen. It was a photo of Senator James.

Emily said, “Was this the man?” She turned the screen toward Douglas. He leaned forward for a look.

“Nope. That's not him.”

Emily gazed at Sean, hesitated, then pulled up another image on the phone. Sean looked at this one and gave his wife a hard glare. “You can't possibly think that? He's a friend. And her professor, for Christ's sake.”

“How many other older men did Abby know?” Emily said. “He left OSG because of an intern, and Cecilia told me he got into trouble when he taught at Yale for getting too cozy with female students.” Emily showed Douglas the image of Professor Jonathan Tweed.

Douglas stared at the iPhone. “I don't think so.”

“You're sure?”

Douglas nodded.

Their daughter had secrets that she'd kept from them. Kept from her friends. And this mystery man could hold the key to finding the killer. Or he just might be the killer himself.

 

CHAPTER 57

“Ryan, sweetie, please calm down, I can't understand what you're saying,” Emily said, the phone pressed to her ear. They were on the sidewalk in front of the Hart Senate Building, and foot traffic was heavy with Capitol Hill pages rushing about. Sean wanted to snatch the mobile out of Emily's hand, but she shooed him back.

“The detective wasn't supposed to talk with you. He was just trying to get a reaction.” Emily raised a finger again. Sean's heart was in a free fall. Ryan must have learned that Billy Brice was dead.

“—he shouldn't have shown you those photos.” More listening from Emily. A couple of passersby stared at them, but Sean wasn't sure whether it was because they recognized the Serrats from all the news coverage or because there was something desperate in the way Emily was talking on the mobile phone. Emily finally used her mother's voice. “Ryan, you need to take a deep breath. Calm down. I will be right there, and I can explain everything. It's not what you think. I want you to get a drink of water and try to calm down. Can you do that?” Another beat of silence. “Okay. I love you. I'll be home shortly.” Emily ended the call.

Sean began, “He found out…”

Emily nodded. “That detective was waiting for him when he got off the school bus. He said the detective showed him photos of Billy Brice; asked Ryan what size shoe he wears.”

“What shoe size?” Sean thought about it. “Maybe they found some tracks on the football field or in the woods. What did Ryan tell him?”

“He did what we asked. He told the detective to talk to his parents.”

“We should go home now. I can reschedule with James.”

“No. I'll go take care of Ryan. I'll stick to the plan and say Brice attacked you when you went back for the gun and you hit him.”

“He's not gonna believe—”

“You need to do this,” Emily said. “If that man had Kenny or some other creep harass Abby and our family, we need to know. Not just for Abby, but for the safety of our boys. I've got this.” Emily looked at him intently. “You need to go to that meeting and look James in the eye and you tell him that if he hurt our Abby, he's not gonna get away with it.”

 

CHAPTER 58

Sean walked down the long hallway in the Hart Senate Office Building until he found SH321. Flags were stationed at either side of the door. He took a deep breath and entered Senator James's office.

A man in his twenties looked over a tall reception desk and asked Sean to take a seat. Perching on a wing chair, Sean glanced at muted C-SPAN on the flat-screen mounted to the wall. How to handle this first meeting with the senator? Should he confront him head on, as Emily wanted? Or should he play it cool and study the situation, learn more? That was more his style, but he was not sure that he could fake cordiality with a man he'd never much cared for, a man unworthy of a seat on the Supreme Court. A man who could be a murderer of women.

Ten minutes passed. Sean had experienced D.C. “make them wait” power plays in the past, but as far as Senator James knew, Sean was there to help. Not a person to play with. A text came in. Emily was nearly home and Ryan had calmed down, which gave Sean a tiny bit of relief. Tiring of waiting, Sean exhaled loudly.

“I apologize for the wait.” The receptionist caught the hint. “The senator is at the Capitol and was supposed to have returned by now.” The man picked up the phone and murmured something. A man in a dark suit and starched white shirt hurried into the office, hand outstretched.

“Mr. Serrat,” he said, handshake too firm. “I'm Brendan Reis, Senator James's chief of staff. The senator sends his apologies. He got caught up on a vote and asked if I could escort you to his office in the Capitol.”

Sean followed Reis out of the office and to the basement of Hart where the two men boarded the underground train that connected the Senate office buildings to the Capitol. It reminded Sean of the monorail at Disneyland, except that there were no crowds and the railcars each had the Senate Seal, not Mickey, affixed to the walls.

“The senator has another office?” Sean asked. In his years at the Justice Department, Sean had visited many government agencies, but rarely found himself at any of the congressional facilities or the Capitol. He'd assumed that all the senatorial offices were in Hart or Dirksen or Russell and didn't realize that the Capitol itself housed senators.

“Yes,” Reis said. “We're going to his hideaway office. Every senator gets an office in the Capitol building so they don't have to run back and forth. It's small, but really convenient if there are breaks between votes and floor appearances.”

They got off the train, and Reis walked Sean through a small archway from the rail platform to the basement of the Capitol. Before them was a dank hallway. Brick walls with caked-on beige paint and a ceiling with exposed pipes. Along the hall were several plain wooden doors, which Sean assumed were storage closets. He was surprised when Reis walked to one of the doors and knocked before turning the knob.

As the door opened, Sean saw Senator James sitting on a couch in a windowless office the size of a small hotel room. Not a suite, a basic room. Another man rose from his seat and stared at Sean. He was tall with lifeless eyes and a slit for a mouth. And he had a mole on his left cheek.

 

CHAPTER 59

The door shut and Sean felt a bead of sweat slide down his back. His T-shirt was damp. He wasn't sure if it was the cramped quarters or the stony stare from the man with the mole. Though Sean's chest was pounding, he felt vindicated to actually see Mole Face for himself. It meant that he and Em weren't crazy; they hadn't been conjuring conspiracies. The senator was involved in all this.

Senator James gestured for Sean to take a seat across from the sofa. He pointed the remote control at the television and clicked off the set. He glanced at his chief of staff, who had taken a seat at a table near the door, and said, “You can leave us, Brendan.”

Reis looked surprised, but left without questioning his boss. The man with the mole, who the senator introduced as his chief of security, moved his muscular frame to the door behind Sean. Sean heard the click of the lock. He forced himself not to turn and look.