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Authors: Bowen Greenwood
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and made sure that Electron Guidewire
contributed to the campaign committee. The race for U.S. House which followed
had enjoyed the maximum legal donation from EG, as well as Tilman’s support in
the defense and intelligence communities, bringing in still more financial
support.
By then, their relationship had changed. Rather than teaching
Vincent, Tilman could enjoy the spectacle of his lessons being applied. The
young protégé had learned very well. His election to Congress not only proved
it, it validated all the time both of them had invested in their relationship.
The victory had been sweet, and the two men had shared it as old friends.
"It’s going to be a close vote, Tilman. This much
surveillance power is a political hot potato, but the intelligence community
loves it. Question is, can you deal with all the bad press the NSA’s getting
about privacy right now?"
Tilman grinned. "You just have faith in the old master,
Mike. No one knows how to work the system like I do. I’ll have ‘em eating out
of my hand after I get a chance to sit down with all of them."
Behind the grin, though, the political
professional-turned-businessman fought back a snarl. There were people on the
Judiciary Committee who had history with Tilman – history dating all the way
back to his last campaign. Some of those Congressmen had been there to help
point the finger at him, and turn him into a scapegoat. They would not do it again. Not this time.
Unaware of his friend's anger, Congressman Vincent allowed
himself a laugh. "You always were a salesman. The used car industry missed
a great opportunity when you went into politics."
"So," Tilman asked, patting him on the back.
"Coming out with me tonight?"
A frown spread across Michael’s face. "I can’t tonight.
Something else going on."
"Whatcha got? Fundraising reception, meeting with media
consultants, what?"
Mike stopped walking, eliciting minor grumbles from folks
behind him who had to step around him to leave the room. "Some personal
stuff, D.W. Let’s go grab lunch."
***
Kathy picked up her phone and checked the voicemail. After
listening to two friends suggest outings for the weekend, she played the third
message. "Officer Sam Franken calling, with the DC Metro police
department. I’m trying to reach Katherine Kelver. Miss Kelver, please contact
me at your earliest convenience to discuss the report you filed regarding a
possible homicide." He reminded her of the date of the incident and gave
both his office and cell phone numbers before hanging up. Kathy hung up the
phone.
She muttered, thinking that whatever Mike wanted as far as
police involvement, it didn’t look like they had a choice anymore.
She picked up the phone again and dialed the cell number
Franken had given her.
"Franken, Metro PD," she heard after two rings.
"Officer Franken, this is Kathy Kelver. You called me
regarding the report I filed."
"Right, glad you called, I’ve been waiting for you. I need
to discuss that with you, can you come to the precinct office later this
evening?"
She hemmed and hawed. "Honestly, Officer, there are a lot
of things going on in my life right now that make it impossible for me to
predict whether I’ll be able to make it to your office tonight."
There was a pause, and then Franken said, "Well, I suppose
I could meet you down there, I’m off duty right now but I could come in."
"Look, I don’t have transportation, and I have urgent
business that requires me to be available. Couldn’t I just met you someplace
closer to me? I’m on Wisconsin Avenue."
She heard a sigh over the phone and then the officer named a
coffee shop in Georgetown. Kathy agreed to the meeting.
She set down the phone and walked over to the couch to wake
John. He cracked an eye and grunted.
"What’s up?"
"The police are looking for me about the body. I have to
go meet them. Wanna come?"
"I better. Let me grab a quick shower before we go. I’ll
be right back."
While John cleaned
contributed to the campaign committee. The race for U.S. House which followed
had enjoyed the maximum legal donation from EG, as well as Tilman’s support in
the defense and intelligence communities, bringing in still more financial
support.
By then, their relationship had changed. Rather than teaching
Vincent, Tilman could enjoy the spectacle of his lessons being applied. The
young protégé had learned very well. His election to Congress not only proved
it, it validated all the time both of them had invested in their relationship.
The victory had been sweet, and the two men had shared it as old friends.
"It’s going to be a close vote, Tilman. This much
surveillance power is a political hot potato, but the intelligence community
loves it. Question is, can you deal with all the bad press the NSA’s getting
about privacy right now?"
Tilman grinned. "You just have faith in the old master,
Mike. No one knows how to work the system like I do. I’ll have ‘em eating out
of my hand after I get a chance to sit down with all of them."
Behind the grin, though, the political
professional-turned-businessman fought back a snarl. There were people on the
Judiciary Committee who had history with Tilman – history dating all the way
back to his last campaign. Some of those Congressmen had been there to help
point the finger at him, and turn him into a scapegoat. They would not do it again. Not this time.
Unaware of his friend's anger, Congressman Vincent allowed
himself a laugh. "You always were a salesman. The used car industry missed
a great opportunity when you went into politics."
"So," Tilman asked, patting him on the back.
"Coming out with me tonight?"
A frown spread across Michael’s face. "I can’t tonight.
Something else going on."
"Whatcha got? Fundraising reception, meeting with media
consultants, what?"
Mike stopped walking, eliciting minor grumbles from folks
behind him who had to step around him to leave the room. "Some personal
stuff, D.W. Let’s go grab lunch."
***
Kathy picked up her phone and checked the voicemail. After
listening to two friends suggest outings for the weekend, she played the third
message. "Officer Sam Franken calling, with the DC Metro police
department. I’m trying to reach Katherine Kelver. Miss Kelver, please contact
me at your earliest convenience to discuss the report you filed regarding a
possible homicide." He reminded her of the date of the incident and gave
both his office and cell phone numbers before hanging up. Kathy hung up the
phone.
She muttered, thinking that whatever Mike wanted as far as
police involvement, it didn’t look like they had a choice anymore.
She picked up the phone again and dialed the cell number
Franken had given her.
"Franken, Metro PD," she heard after two rings.
"Officer Franken, this is Kathy Kelver. You called me
regarding the report I filed."
"Right, glad you called, I’ve been waiting for you. I need
to discuss that with you, can you come to the precinct office later this
evening?"
She hemmed and hawed. "Honestly, Officer, there are a lot
of things going on in my life right now that make it impossible for me to
predict whether I’ll be able to make it to your office tonight."
There was a pause, and then Franken said, "Well, I suppose
I could meet you down there, I’m off duty right now but I could come in."
"Look, I don’t have transportation, and I have urgent
business that requires me to be available. Couldn’t I just met you someplace
closer to me? I’m on Wisconsin Avenue."
She heard a sigh over the phone and then the officer named a
coffee shop in Georgetown. Kathy agreed to the meeting.
She set down the phone and walked over to the couch to wake
John. He cracked an eye and grunted.
"What’s up?"
"The police are looking for me about the body. I have to
go meet them. Wanna come?"
"I better. Let me grab a quick shower before we go. I’ll
be right back."
While John cleaned
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