was posted through the inner office e-mail system. Something about because it’s election time, the Secret Service needs bodies to help them cover the presidential candidates,” Troy said before kissing me on the cheek and opening his apartment door.
Once on the other side of his door, I raised my eyebrow, nodded my head, and thought, Good riddance, Mr. Evans. And maybe I should look into that temp job. It was time for a new venture.
Chapter 2
Explore
The following week was not easy. I did apply for the temp job with the Secret Service. But I worried about the possibility of being pregnant. What would I do with a baby? I simply forced myself to concentrate on work. And with many files on my desk needing to be reviewed and data entry piling up, I had much to do.
The stress of my life made me glad I would soon be headed to Texas for my college roommate and best friend’s wedding. Although I had strayed away from God, Eden still remained true to the Lord. She was the only woman I was close to, with the exception of my mother and Crystal, my feisty younger sister. Even though we now lived in separate cities, when Eden asked me to be her maid of honor, I gladly accepted.
I was busy typing away at my desk. Over the last week, work had been easy. I didn’t have to deal with Troy, because he was in Maryland working with the DEA on a drug case dealing with suspected trafficking to the D.C.-area high schools. I was thrilled to pieces that we didn’t have to see each other. And since he hadn’t called, I knew he wasn’t trying to deal with me, either.
“Ware,” my supervisor yelled, “I need to see you in my office. Now.”
What’s his problem? I wondered as I rose from my chair.
Everyone in the office considered my boss, Thomas Hunter, an intimidating man. And he knew it. He spent most of his time sitting behind his large mahogany desk barking out orders to other people, instead of being useful in the field. Personally, I rather admired his arrogance.
I stood in his doorway, leaning against the wall, and watched him flip through some files in a tall, wooden cabinet. Hunter’s jet-black hair started high on his pale forehead and extended to a shoulder-length ponytail. Plaques and awards graced every wall. The credenza held photographs of him cavorting with beautiful women in exotic locations.
I folded my arms across my chest and cleared my throat. Hunter scoped me briskly through his wire-rimmed spectacles, then motioned for me to take a seat.
“Good morning, hard worker,” he said in a calm voice that contradicted his earlier tone. As I took the chair beside his desk, he settled into his large leather one behind it.
“Agent Ware,” he said, leaning back, “I know you’ve been frustrated about not being out in the field since the shooting. Your work to date has indeed been impressive, but I’ve been waiting for the right situation to come along. Since you put in for that temp job, I think we’ll give it a try. I have to send a qualified agent to assist with the detail of a presidential candidate. And you did save one of our agents’ life. You’ve proven this is in your blood.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Hunter was actually recommending me for the job. I could have jumped around the room like a cheerleader.
“I trust you’ve heard that Senator Steven Stokes is running for president.”
“Yes, sir, I saw he had a press conference last week.”
“Secret Service said he’s received some death threats.”
I nodded. Presidential candidates were always threatened by crazies with deeply held political views. Adding the race issue to the equation made Reverend Stokes a prime target.
He continued, “They said typically they don’t assign agents before training, but when I sent your profile to the Secret Service they chose you because the protectee wanted an African-American and they thought by having a woman on the detail she’d blend in to many of the locations Stokes visits as well. And I really think it’s a good idea, too.”
“You do?” I asked, knowing that no one in the office wanted to take the assignment. I wondered what the Secret Service really thought about an FBI agent coming into their ranks.
“I don’t want you to become alarmed, but…” Hunter said, sending butterflies loose in my stomach, “Rudy Roberts has been released from the hospital and is out on bond.”
I was so relieved that the bullet didn’t kill Roberts. Though having a criminal out walking the streets certainly didn’t promote peace of mind.
“Roberts is a known felon with a thick rap sheet. I wouldn’t be surprised if he came looking for revenge.”
“You think he may come after me?” I questioned.
“You, Evans, this office, others investigating him. I know the way the case shook you up. I’m just happy to have you away from the whole thing now that we have to deal with it again. If he does come for you, you won’t be here. But I don’t want you to worry about this now.”
Easy for him to say—it wasn’t his life in danger. I didn’t plan to dwell on Roberts, but I couldn’t disregard the threat, either.
“I know you’ll be in Texas this weekend on personal time. When you come back I’m giving you the week off before you head down to Georgia for your Secret Service training.” I was shaking my head as if that was okay, but he wasn’t hearing it. “Get your affairs in order. Then Monday after next you can pick up your ticket at the airport when you head out.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said as I stood to shake his hand.
He gave a no problem nod. “Just make the FBI proud.”
“Will do.”
I walked out of Agent Hunter’s office on a cloud. Guarding the Reverend Steven Stokes would mark an end to my days of boredom behind a desk for at least six months to a year, depending upon whether or not he won the Democratic nomination.
For some reason, at that moment I remembered my prayer at Troy’s house. Maybe God had a plan for me after all. Thinking of God let me not stress about Roberts, Troy, or anything. I’d talked to God and He’d replied. Though my communication wasn’t that clear, I was suddenly ready and willing to get a stronger line with the Lord. I really was on a cloud.
On the flight to Texas, I tried to keep my focus on Eden’s wedding. She was marrying Dion Jones. Back in college, Dion, Eden, Max, and I used to double date. Eden was my girl. She was always there for me. I sure hoped Dion had changed for Eden’s sake or she was going to be in trouble.
Ironically, Eden and I took home pregnancy tests together our senior year. We held each other’s hand as five minutes slowly passed. I looked at mine first.
“It’s going to be okay, Chris,” Eden said with wet eyes.
“I just hope I’m the only one who has to go through this.”
“Come check with me, please. I’m scared,” she pleaded.
Looking at her positive result broke my heart as much as when I saw mine. The rest of the day we were in mourning.
“What
