Page 37 of After All The Wreckage
It was quick thinking on Gage’s part. I was surprised he’d known that much about either Dunn or Cherry Bay’s representative.
Dunn smiled widely. “Plus, Harry loves his NRA money.”
It was a slam against his fellow statesman, but I didn’t expect anything else from the politicians who filled the halls and tunnels of the Capitol. There were good ones. I’d seen them in person, and my friends on the Capitol Police could tell you instantly who they were, but it was, unfortunately, rarer than it should be.
“Did you see where he went after you talked?” I asked.
The two men did that eye exchange again, and my gut sank.
“Sorry, we were late for a meeting and didn’t stay to talk,” West said.
We approached the entrance to the subway station in the basement that joined the Rayburn Building with the Capitol itself, and I slowed my steps, pulling Gage to a halt beside me.
“Thank you for your time,” I said, and let the men continue on without us.
Gage simmered next to me. Once they were out of ear range, I turned on him and put a finger to his hard-as-a-rock chest. “Don’t ever do that again.”
His eyes widened, glancing down to where my finger rested. Heat and awareness zapped through me. I pulled back with a jerk.
“If you can’t control your emotions, I need you to walk back to the car.”
His eyes narrowed. “They know more than they’re telling.”
To most people, Dunn and West would have appeared friendly and helpful, but the conversations they’d had with their eyes said otherwise. Something more had happened than just a conversation about school shootings. It was a nice cover story. If Monte had been ranting about what he thought was going to happen to the representative, they could pull it off as having thought he was talking about shootings in general and not Dunn getting shot.
“There are a thousand and one reasons for them to be holding back, including something as simple as Monte saw them talking to another congressman they don’t want anyone to know they’re dealing with. Everything here is shadowed in secrecy, and sometimes the most powerful information you can have is who is talking to whom.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about any of that. I care about finding my brother.”
“Pissing them off and getting tossed out won’t help us find him.”
I turned on my heel, heading back the way we’d come.
Gage was quiet next to me, but I could practically feel the frustration vibrating from him.
As we made our way back up to the main floor where more politicians and staffers poured in for their workday, the energy in the building increased, the pace similar to standing on the Metro platform. By the time we made it to the cafeteria, a swirl of bodies hurried in various directions.
I scanned the tables and found Lucidia at the back. Her thick black braids were pulled into a knot atop her head, and she had a large smoothie in front of her. She spotted me when we were halfway through the sea of tables, and her eyes widened slightly at the massive, broody man behind me.
When we sat down, she shifted nervously, and once again, I realized I should have left Gage outside. Nothing Lucidia and I were doing was illegal. None of it should technically get her in trouble, but people in the Capitol were persnickety about their privacy.
“Lucidia, this is Gage. Gage, Lucidia.”
He reached his hand across the table, and she shook it firmly before withdrawing.
“Like I told you on the phone, we’re looking for his brother. Representative Dunn just told me they had a conversation with him in the plaza.”
Her brows went up. “He was out front? There had to be reporters there. You should be able to pick something up from one of them, but we can head over to the control room and see if we can spot anything on the video feeds.”
I kicked myself for not thinking about the news vans camped out regularly at the foot of the building sooner. I turned to Gage.“Did the police put you in touch with any of the news outlets to run his photo?”
Gage shook his head. “But the NCMEC coordinator said they’d have someone contact me.”
“How old is he?” Lucidia asked.
“Thirteen,” Gage responded, voice deep and scratchy with emotion.
“Tough age. My sister left home when she was fourteen.”
