Page 41 of Finally

“Yeah, you’ve got nothing to worry about. No one’s going to get past me and my ninja moves,” Carlos joked.

“Ninja moves?” Brandon snickered. “I think you’re confusing yourself with Ninja Nolan. You’re more like a tank.”

Carlos and I both laughed. “Yeah, that’s true,” Carlos conceded. “But they’re still not getting past me.”

“Let’s hope not. Okay, let’s get to work. We’ve got a lot to do and not much time to do it in,” I told them.

A couple of hours later, the debate was in full swing. People had started arriving by the carload, quickly filling the rows of stadium seats, all eager to hear the candidates talk about the issues that would have an impact on their lives. The three candidates had taken the stage and shaken each other’s hands before moving to stand behind their assigned podiums. Moderators walked up and down the stands, allowing the voters to ask their own questions in a town-hall style of debate.

Henry Franco, an independent candidate, was a small, twitchy sort of man who looked like he was about to throw up every time a question was directed his way. He spoke softly and eloquently, but while a lot of his ideas made sense, I didn’t trust that he’d have the backbone it would take to see them through.

John Wainwright, our current governor, was a loud, robust man with strong opinions of what the government should and should not do for its people. According to the work he’d done so far while in office, it seemed that he was more interested in padding the pockets of his rich friends than he was in improving the lives of all the citizens of Illinois. He held a lot of power thanks to his friends, but unfortunately for him, that may not be enough.

Topher had gained a lot of support from the voters, simply by being himself. He listened with a sympathetic ear to the troubles the citizens faced, and he developed strategies that ensured their needs would be met. I’d gone with him as he’d visited schools, small businesses and town halls. He’d met with the homeless, disabled veterans, and college kids who were voting for the first time.

He’d treated them the same way he treated his friends, by looking them in the eye and listening to what they had to say. He’d made them feel important, like their opinions mattered and that they deserved to have their voices heard because he truly believed that they should. Yes, I was in love with him so, of course, I wanted him to get elected. But even if I’d never met him before, I’d be able to see what a respectable man he was and that he was clearly the right person for the job.

Of course, all the positive attention Topher had received had only managed to anger those who didn’t want to see him get elected. Particularly the O.O.A. who were in attendance once again. I kept a cold gaze on them as they jeered at Topher each time he responded, and basically tried to cause a disruption any chance they got, which of course, pleased John Wainwright immensely.

The group reminded me of a bunch of rowdy teenagers, heckling a rival team at a game. They were loud and immature, and they’d already been warned once by the event moderators to tone it down or they’d have to leave. While I almost wished they would, so I could have the pleasure of seeing their asses getting hauled off the property, my only concern at the moment was keeping Topher safe.

I turned my attention back on him. He’d admitted on the drive there that he was nervous, but you couldn’t tell it by looking at him. Outwardly, he was calm, cool and collected, his answers well thought out and his ideas backed up by data he and his team had collected. He handled every question with dignity and treated his opponents with a respect I wasn’t sure they deserved. As my eyes scanned the crowd, I could see the smiles on many of the audience members’ faces and I knew they liked what they were hearing and seeing from my man.

I smiled at the thought of Topher being mine, but my phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket, drawing my attention away from the stage. The smile slid from my face when I saw Micah’s name pop up on the screen. He knew I was running security at the event and wouldn’t have called unless it was important. I pressed the button on my headpiece, quickly letting Brandon and Carlos know I needed to take the call. They assured me they had things covered, so I dipped behind the curtains and answered my phone in a whisper.

“Greg, you at the debate still?” Micah asked.

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

“My buddy ran those fingerprints through his system and he just called me with the results. He found a match.”

“You know who broke into Topher’s house and attacked Maddie?” I asked. My pulse started to race and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

“I do, but you’re not going to like it,” Micah replied.

“Tell me.”

“It’s Jared Conover,” he answered.

“Wait. What? Jared, as in Topher’s campaign manager? But that makes no sense, he’s part of Topher’s team. Why would he break into his home?”

“I don’t have the answer to that, but his prints were in the state registry since he’s a campaign official and they were a positive match for the ones found in Christopher’s house,” Micah explained. My head was spinning as I tried to make sense of the new information. “There’s more.”

What more could there be? This was already going to come as a blow to Topher, who trusted the man who was running his campaign. He’d thought Jared was his friend when, actually he’d been sabotaging Topher’s campaign the whole time. I tried to keep a lid on my anger, but it was difficult when I knew this news was going to hurt the man I loved.

“I also gave him the letters Topher had received and asked him to run those through just in case. Most of them didn’t have any prints or only partial ones, but we got lucky with one of them. It also was a match to Jared. Apparently, he’s been a busy guy. He doesn’t seem to want Christopher to get elected, for whatever reason.”

“And with Election Day right around the corner, he may be getting desperate,” I added. “I have to go.”

“Okay, be careful and call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Micah. I appreciate your help.”

I ended the call then clicked over to text and shot off a quick message with a photo attached. The response was immediate.

CARLOS: The campaign manager?

ME: Yes.

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