Tweed looked back at his students, who were all whispers and stares. “Justice Carr is doing me a favor and agreed to meet with them. He’s walking over to the Supreme Court Historical Society with us and then to lunch.”
“He sure seems generous with his time, particularly at the end of the term.” The Supreme Court issued all of its decisions from the term no later than the end of June, so May was usually a busy period at the high court.
“The man shouldn’t play poker. I come out of our regular game with more free court visits for my students than I know what to do with. I’m surprised he has time to write his opinions. I suppose that’s what law clerks are for. You two want to tag along?”
“I’m not sure I’m up for that today,” Sean said.
“Aw, come on, it will be educational.” Tweed turned to Ryan. “It might even justify you playing hooky.”
Ryan grinned, but his attention was now fixed on a motorcade of Segway-riding tourists moving down the street.
“So, I assume you didn’t track me down just to say hello?” Tweed said.
“I just had a couple questions. About Abby.”
Tweed nodded.
“Did she mention any problems she was having? Come to you for help?” Sean thought of Chipotle Man’s remark about the man who’d bought Abby’s necklace. He was some rich dude in a suit, like you.
Tweed crumpled his brow. “Problems? No. Is there something I should know about?”
“She apparently was getting hassled by a drug dealer. It’s a long story, but I wondered if she came to you for help?”
“If she’d come to me, you’d know about it. I wouldn’t keep that from you. And I’m sure Abby knew that coming to me with something serious, for better or worse, was as good as telling you herself.”
Sean scrutinized his friend’s face, deciding to believe him. And Tweed was right, Abby would assume that anything she said to Tweed would get back to Sean.
Tweed pointed to his students, who were now huddled around Justice Carr, who’d come outside to meet the group. The broad-shouldered Carr, in slacks and button-down shirt, held court near one of the fountains, the students staring admiringly at him. Sean thought of what it must have been like two decades before, post-game at Notre Dame Stadium, Carr surrounded by coeds, signing autographs for fans.
“I’ve got to get up there before they embarrass me,” Tweed said. “So, want to come along?”
Sean caught Ryan’s eye. Sean nudged his head away from the building, silently asking if Ryan wanted to ditch the meeting with Justice Carr. He knew the answer. For an eighth-grader, nothing could ruin a surprise day off from school more than a history lesson. Even one from a Supreme Court justice. Ryan’s eyes widened and he gave the slightest nod. Abby had always been fascinated by the court and awestruck by the justices. But not Ryan. When Sean had arranged for Ryan’s sixth-grade class to attend an argument and meet with a justice afterward, Ryan fell asleep at the long table in the Nan Rehnquist dining room as the justice was speaking to the kids.
“I think we’re gonna skip out, but I appreciate the offer.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, you remember the last time Ryan met a justice,” Sean said.
Ryan blushed.
“Of course, the famous cat nap.” Tweed slapped Ryan on the back. “Don’t worry, I’ve done much worse. Ask your father. On second thought, ask him when you’re eighteen.” Tweed flashed another smile.
“Yeah, I’ll hold off until you’re old enough to get into R-rated movies,” Sean said. He was only half kidding. Tweed had left OSG under an ugly cloud after getting caught on a conference room table with one of the Bristow Fellows, the interns at the office.
Tweed continued, “Well, call me if you need anything and I’ll—”
“Just one more thing,” Sean said.
“Yeah?”
“The files you gave me. Abby’s vetting files. They didn’t have any of her notes. Do you have them?”
Tweed’s eyes swept the area. “The students followed strict guidelines,” he said quietly. “All research was done only at the school, all notes in paper, not electronic form, and they turned everything in to me. Nothing left our research area next to my office. And I locked up all research and notes. Only I have access to the files, and I gave you what I had.”
“So her notes wouldn’t have been on her laptop?”
“They shouldn’t have been. I didn’t want anyone leaving something on an unsecure computer or accidentally printing something or e-mailing the wrong file. I’m old-school about vetting. Only paper files, code names for the nominees, everything locked in my safe. The only file is the one I gave you.”
Sean said, “It’s impossible Abby didn’t take any notes, Jon.”
“Unless my secretary screwed up when she made you a copy, or some superspy broke into my safe, that’s all there is.”
Sean arched a brow.
Tweed blew out a sigh. “I’ll check when I get back to the office.”