“This is a little awkward, but the president wanted me to ask you for a favor.”
What could the president want from him? He couldn’t possibly expect Sean to publicly endorse Senator James? That wouldn’t happen.
“What is it?”
“We hoped you could assist in the preparation of Senator James for his confirmation hearing. You’re the leading expert on modern constitutional law, and we’d hoped you could give the senator a primer on con law. Help prep him for the hearing.”
“Forgive me, but I find it hard to believe that the president is dealing with the staffing of the murder boards.”
There was a sharp silence. Most lawyers, whatever their politics, would not reject an invitation from the White House to participate in the murder boards, the practice sessions held to get a nominee ready for the Judiciary Committee hearing. It was an honor and sought-after credential in Washington. Sean assumed the invitation served two purposes here: it would help prepare Senator James and further position Sean as a future nominee.
Gupta finally replied, “Actually, this came directly from the president. He personally approved every member of the murder … of the prep team. He wanted the leading experts in every area and, I’m not trying to flatter, no one came close to your expertise on con law.”
Sean’s stomach twisted at the idea of assisting Senator James. Then again, a member of the team would be privy to inside information and possibly the FBI’s file on the senator. As Sean kicked it around, a plump figure appeared in his doorway. Mable, his assistant. She looked flustered, conflicted about intruding.
He cupped the receiver. “Everything okay?”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, “but your son’s school called on the other line. They need you to come pick up Ryan.”
He took that in, held up a finger, then said into the phone, “I’ve got to go, Abani, but okay, I’ll do it.”
Gupta said, “That’s great news. I’ll be e-mailing you some encrypted files and—” Sean hung up.
“Is the school still on the other line?”
“No, I’m sorry. They said Ryan is okay, but there was a fight. They need you to come pick him up. They tried calling your wife, but couldn’t reach her.”
Emily was volunteering in Jack’s class today, so she must have turned off her phone. Sean sank back into his chair and studied Mable.
“All this drama isn’t quite what you signed up for when I started at the firm, is it?”
“It’s really my pleasure, Sean.”
“Between the press calls and my family situation, I really admire how you’ve handled things. I also appreciate you unpacking and arranging my office so nicely.” Sean looked about the room. Gone were the boxes and bare walls. The framed artist rendition of him arguing in the Supreme Court was hung alongside his many awards. Books were neatly stacked on the wooden shelves. And prominently displayed on a work table in the back of the office, the vase where he kept his fifty-two feather quill pens—one for each of his arguments at the high court—souvenirs that the court gives advocates arguing a case.
“It’s been no problem, though the reporters are something else. One even called me at home.”
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“My husband grumbled, but then he saw you on the news talking about your daughter. We have a girl in college. And my Henry, who’s not a very emotional guy, he says to me, ‘Mable, you help that man with whatever he needs.’”
“Thank Henry for me. My wife and I would love to take you both out to dinner once things return to—” he stopped himself. “Once things slow down.” Sean got up and walked to the coat hook near his door and removed his suit jacket from a hanger and slipped it on.
As he walked out of the office Mable said, “One more thing, Sean.”
“Yes?”
“Did the detective catch up with you this morning?”
Sean gave her a confused look.
“You must have missed my e-mail? A detective stopped by this morning when you were out.”
“No, did he say what it was about?”
“He was with the Montgomery County police and needed to talk with you about something. He said he was with the homicide section.”
CHAPTER 47
Sean approached the entrance to Ryan’s middle school. He thought about the last call from the school over Ryan’s Facebook messages. He marveled at how his perspective had changed. His parental problems from Before now seemed almost silly.
He entered the building and headed to the main office. The woman at the front desk gave Sean a sympathetic gaze. She said that the principal would be right with him. And he was.
“This is starting to become an unpleasant routine,” Sean said, shaking the principal’s hand.
The principal blew out a long sigh. “Ryan and two boys had a scuffle,” he said. “Ryan was clearly just defending himself, but county policy requires us to suspend everyone involved—it doesn’t matter who started the fight.”