He was trying to be polite to the girl, but I could tell it was just an act. I noticed him looking around, trying to find me. After a few awkward moments, I entered their conversation. “Oh, Sebastian, you two make a great couple. And to think, your mom thinks you should be married.”
The girl placed herself between me and Sebastian. “Dang! Are you his sister?”
I laughed.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Sebastian said firmly. “She’s just mad at me right now.”
She grinned. “Well, if she doesn’t want you, I’ll take you.”
I spread out my arms, letting her know she could have him.
She stared at me even harder. “Aren’t you that girl that went to jail?” Before I could respond, she yelled out to her friends, “Hey, y’all, this is the girl this guy forced to turn herself in.”
A crowd of people circled around us. Sebastian and I were pushed into each other’s arms.
“You two ought to just kiss and make up,” the girl said.
“Yeah,” a guy shouted from the crowd. “Kiss her!”
Sebastian grabbed my waist, pulled me close, and kissed me passionately.
Though my eyes were closed, I noticed a bright flash of light. I looked up and saw the reporter who’d filmed the ribbon-cutting. He had taken a picture of our passionate kiss. I hoped our public display would be beneficial to the last few days of his campaign, because people tend to vote for a man who has a stable personal life. The DJ put on a slow song. “Go on, Mr. Stokes,” he said. “Dance with your lady. Show the brothers and sisters here what you’re made of.”
I expected Sebastian to decline. He hated being put on the spot. But he slipped his arm around my waist and escorted me onto the dance floor, to the cheers of everyone in the place. We danced with a rhythm that rocked my soul.
When the song ended, he took my hand, lifted it up, and waved to the cheering crowd. We made a grand exit to a standing ovation.
We cuddled in the backseat of the limo all the way back to his sister’s place.
He walked me to the door, our fingers locked together. When he opened the door for me, I did a double take. Sebastian’s mom was sitting on the couch.
Savannah jumped up. “I tried to get her—”
“Sit down,” Mrs. Stokes lashed out. Savannah sat immediately.
“Why are you here?” Mrs. Stokes asked me coolly. “I came over to see my daughter,” she said with an evil glare. “Imagine my surprise at seeing your bags in the guest room.” She then turned and glared at Sebastian and said, “I can’t believe you’d allow your sister to be a part of this.”
“A part of what, Mom?” he asked, his jaw twitching angrily.
“This rendezvous with your little hooker.”
I could have reached across the room and slapped her.
“You can’t talk about her like that,” Sebastian yelled.
“Look at those clothes.” She pointed at me with a long, tapered finger. “She’s showing off her flesh like she’s ready to be sold off to the highest bidder. I’m utterly ashamed that my son would allow his chances in the polls to be ruined by such a scandal.”
She stood, flounced over to him, and cupped his face in her hands. “Son, we don’t expect you to win. But everyone’s quite pleased with how you’ve been conducting yourself in this campaign. If your father does get the presidency, you’ll be able to write your own ticket. But you’ve got to be careful who you associate with.”
“Maybe your mom’s right,” I said, my eyes filling with tears. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Stokes. I won’t be bothering your children again.” I started toward the door.
Savannah grabbed my arm. “What are you doing? My mom can’t tell you who to see or where to go.”
“Savannah Stokes!” her mom yelled.
“Mother, this is my apartment.” Savannah strode to the front door and opened it. “And I want you to leave.”
Mrs. Stokes stood there in shock. Savannah stomped over, grasped her mother’s elbow, and pushed her out the door. The slamming of the door echoed in the room.
I sat in the sterile conference room, still thankful that no one from the press was allowed inside. Greg Smith, my lawyer, stood in a corner of the room, talking quietly on his cell phone.
The jury had been in deliberations for about an hour. Since there was nothing for me to do but wait, I looked around the room. The wooden furniture looked old and scratched up. The walls had paintings of presidents. A U.S. flag flew behind the huge presiding officer’s chair.
Agent Barrington, the third-highest-ranked Secret Service agent in the country, came into the room and sat at the officer-presenting-charges table. Greg got off the phone and joined me at the table where we’d sat earlier. We both stood and faced the presiding officer.
“You’ve argued a very good case, Agent Ware,” Barrington said. “However, the Secret Service is not ready to allow you to come back to work at this time.”
“What?” I lashed out. “Why not? I was cleared of all charges.”
“We understand that,” Barrington said, “but the claim by your protectee, which sent you on a hiatus in the first place, is still outstanding. There has been no evidence provided in this hearing to prove that you did not inappropriately introduce Reverend Stokes to a group that wanted to give him illegal campaign funds.”
“But I never—”
“Until those claims are proven false, you will remain on suspension.”
I looked at Greg and asked how they could do this to me. His silence and look of dejection gave me no hope.
“Thank you for your time,” Barrington said, then left the room.
I had been flying high the last few months—I had a new place, I was back with my man. All I needed was my job, and I’d been certain I would get that back. Until the Secret Service cleared me, I was on suspension with all federal agencies. I couldn’t even go back to my old job. Now it seemed as though my flight had hit some heavy turbulence. My ears could not take the changing altitude.
Chapter 16
High
Greg Smith and I stood in the empty conference room, shocked at the unfair decision that had just been handed down.
He touched my shoulder. “We can appeal.”
“You don’t understand,” I groaned. “This is like being released from the army with a dishonorable discharge. I can’t believe this is happening.”
I sat on the wooden table. It was cold and hard, like my heart. After giving my all on this detail and even saving the protectee’s life, my superiors didn’t believe me or support me.
Greg’s eyes suddenly lit up. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “There’s something I want to go check on.”
He left me alone in the quiet room, but that was fine with me. I had nothing to say to anybody.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Agent Hold came in. I smiled when I noticed his mustache was finally growing in. I remember that he had always wanted to look older, and I had suggested that he try growing a mustache. I was happy to see that the new look was working.
“How are you doing?” he said as he walked up to me.
“I’m okay,” I lied.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I just got the word that they denied you permission to come back. I miss you. I’ve been an agent for five years and you’re the best partner I’ve ever had.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” I said, taking a deep breath to keep myself from crying.
“I want you to know that none of us on the team thinks this is right, including Agent Moss. It’s totally unfair, and we realize it could easily happen to any of us.”
Hearing him say that blew me away. I wasn’t officially one of them, but after Hold’s comment, I guess I was. It felt good to know that others were willing to do something for my cause. The coldness within me started to warm up. Maybe God was moving the mountain after all.
“We want to help,” he said.
“I really don’t know what you can d
o,” I told him. “No one has been able to find any evidence to prove that tape was altered.”
His face brightened. “I heard you had a private investigator who found some evidence that cleared you in the murder case. What about getting back in touch with that guy? I mean, if the tape was altered, there’s probably a production company that has to know about it. Maybe that investigator of yours can trace the origin of the tape.”
“You know, that’s worth a try.” I got up quickly and headed toward the exit.
“Where are you going?” Ryan asked.
“You gave me an idea.”
I burst out of the conference room door and ran smack into my attorney. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” he said. “I was hoping to bump into you, just not literally.” He chuckled. “I’ve got a call for you on my cell phone.” He handed me the phone.
“Hey, baby,” I heard Sebastian’s sexy voice say. “I just heard. I figured you’d be pretty down, so I wanted to call you right away.”
“Listen,” I said, glossing over his attempt to comfort me, “I’m going to follow up on a lead my colleague came up with.”
“I have some ideas, too.”
“Don’t worry about me. You just take care of your campaign.”
“I’ll check on you tonight then, baby. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I told him.
The next day I contacted the private investigator’s office and we went over all the information he had uncovered so I could decide what to do next. Glenn O’Malley was a short, balding man in his fifties who wore wrinkled suits and bow ties. He was so pleased to be able to work on such a high-profile case, he offered to work for me pro bono.
Together we called every newspaper that had written about me previously and told them my side of the story. The articles they published generated so much public interest that the agency reluctantly decided to give me another hearing.
Days later, sitting again in front of the committee, I hoped Mr. O’Malley could clear my name. Greg was still my lawyer, and to me he seemed confident. Agent Barrington frowned at O’Malley. Since he was on the other side, anything that irritated him was a good thing for me. A few reporters and FBI agents I liked from my D.C. office were in the room as well, sitting behind me. The three men and two women who helped to make up the committee with the head prosecutor were checkin’ me out.
The head of the Secret Service investigative committee, also known as the presiding officer, said, “We understand you have some information that could clear Ms. Ware of the charges against her.”
“Yes, sir, I do,” O’Malley replied.
“Then let’s hear it.”
He reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a cassette tape. “This is a copy of the video recording that made Ms. Ware appear guilty of taking a bribe to set up Reverend Stokes.”
The men and women on the committee nodded.
“I took it to five different production companies and asked them to analyze the film. They all came back with the same report.” He leaned down and opened the tattered briefcase on the floor beside him. He pulled a folder full of documents out of it, waving the folder in the air. “That tape was altered. It was so well done that most people viewing the tape would never see it. But minute computer alterations were found.”
The crowd started whispering. The committee members leaned forward with anticipation.
O’Malley made eye contact with each member of the committee. “None of the production companies could decipher exactly what had been done to the tape, but knowing it was altered spurred me on to find out.”
Agent Barrington objected, asking the presiding officer where Mr. O’Malley’s statements were leading. The presiding officer told the prosecutor to stop interrupting.
Glenn O’Malley smiled. “I contacted several more production companies and finally found the one that worked on the tape. At first the owner would not admit he’d altered it, of course. Until I told him that I saw the company’s hidden trademark. Then he sang like a bird.”
A few snickers of glee came from supporters behind me. The presiding officer gave them a stern look.
“I told this man,” O’Malley continued, “that if he didn’t cooperate, I was going to call the detective involved in the case and have him come by with a search warrant to look at all of their tapes. The owner then told me that one of his former employees had altered the tape and had been fired for it. I convinced him to give me the former employee’s name, home address, and phone number.”
Mr. O’Malley paused for dramatic effect, then continued. “That former employee, a young man named Kurt James, denied altering the tape. When I told him the owner of the production company was willing to testify against him in court, Kurt confessed that he was paid a large sum of money to alter the tape. Here is his bank statement showing the deposit.”
The committee members started whispering to each other.
“I have Kurt James’s signed and certified testimony,” O’Malley said, pulling a document out of his file folder and handing it to the presiding officer. “He admits that Skip Bambino gave him some video footage and told him to doctor it so it would incriminate Miss Ware. If necessary, the committee can contact Mr. James at the address given in the statement to confirm its validity.”
When the officer presenting charges chose not to question Mr. O’Malley, the presiding officer told him that he could step down from the witness stand. My lawyer then stood and addressed the committee.
“In light of this new evidence,” Greg said, “I am appealing to the committee to reinstate Agent Christian Ware.”
The presiding officer dismissed the committee, and they all filed out of the room. For the next ten minutes, Greg and I discussed the possible outcome of these proceedings. He thought I’d get off. I wasn’t too confident. My heart wanted to believe him, but my brain dared not.
When the committee came back, my hands were sweaty. All of them stood as the presiding officer said, “We need more time to deliberate.”
My head dropped. I wanted this to be over. I was totally stressed out.
I tried to call Sebastian, hoping his voice would calm my nerves. But I couldn’t locate him, so I called Eden. She wasn’t home, either. So I sat back in my seat, tapping my feet in a nervous rhythm.
Greg saw I was uneasy. “You’re going to be fine.”
After two hours, the committee finally came back into the courtroom. I rose to my feet and so did the few other folks who had stayed.
The spokesman stood and faced me. “We do not feel that this new evidence is sufficient to overturn Agent Ware’s suspension,” he pronounced.
I put my hands over my face and started weeping. Lord, I cried out. What happened? I thought You were with me!
Immediately, God spoke to my troubled mind. I am here, My child. And I am in control. Not your lawyer. Not your investigator. Not you. Trust Me.
I felt like a load had been lifted off my chest. I inhaled, lifted my head, and dried my eyes with my sleeves. I’m so sorry, Lord, I confessed from my heart.
Just as I did, the doors swung open. I turned back and saw Sebastian striding in.
“I’ve got more evidence,” he announced, holding a brown envelope in his hand.
I sat on the edge of my seat.
Greg went to the presiding officer and got special privilege to allow Sebastian to present material. I sat back and held my breath as my guy walked before the committee.
“I was dating this lady at the time of the alleged incident with my father, and I know beyond a doubt that she is not guilty of the charges against her. I also respect my father, so I had a hard time believing that he would stoop to destroying her life in order to get ahead. So I decided to come right out and ask him what was happening.”
The conference room crowd began their side discussions. Sebastian pulled a small tape recorder out of his coat pocket and set it on the railing in front of him. The oversized room became silent.
Seba
stian said, “This is a recording of our telephone conversation last night.”
Agent Barrington stood up. “Objection. Inadmissible. You can’t tape without the person’s knowledge.”
Greg said to the committee, “Please allow the witness to speak. He’ll explain.”
“Make it quick, please,” the presiding officer said to Sebastian before he spoke to Agent Barrington. “Overruled—we need to get at the truth here.”
“The tape is legal. At the beginning I let my father know that I was taping him. As the conversation goes on, you’ll hear that my father is so upset, he is not even thinking about a tape.”
He pushed Play. As the tape spun, I heard Sebastian’s voice. “Dad, why are you letting Christian go down for something she didn’t do? You said yourself she was a great protector. She was almost blown to pieces trying to save your life.”
“You’re right, son,” Reverend Stokes’s voice said clearly. “But I figured the Agency would give her job back after she was cleared of the murder charges. When that didn’t happen, I realized that this case was keeping my name in the national media and even portrayed me in a positive light. Voters feel bad that I was framed. So members of my campaign staff convinced me to implicate her.”
“You’ve been tailing my girlfriend.”
“Of course, son—actually, it was your mom’s idea and I supported it. You’re a political figure. We had to make sure this agent girl had nothing in her past to kill your future.”
“And when you found nothing damaging about her, you had the video altered and created something to promote your presidential hopes.”
“Yes and no, son. Listen, I pissed off the wrong people, and when I agreed to get back in their good graces they said they could fix the mess they put me in and asked for the tape and they changed a few things.”
“They…who is they?” Sebastian said, sounding upset.
Chasing Faith Page 24
