But this… This was ten times worse than he'd feared. The conversation Asher had overheard implied direct involvement, not just providing someone with information. She was warning people she was being investigated, and no one did that unless they were guilty.
"I'm sorry." Coulson took his hand.
Seth laced their fingers together. He loved that he didn't need to explain anything to Coulson, that the man could read him by now. "It's hard. It feels like a personal betrayal, you know?"
Coulson squeezed his hand. "The deeper we dig, the more personal it will become. I don't think we've seen the worst just yet."
As bleak as that statement was, Seth couldn't deny the underlying truth. "Yeah."
"I need to go back to the office. I'm not sure if I'll make it home tonight before midnight, and it may even be later than that."
"I figured. Good luck."
Coulson tugged his hand and pulled him close, and then he cupped Seth's cheeks and kissed him. In the middle of the sidewalk, in front of the White House, with god knew how many people around them. Would Seth ever cease to be amazed at how fearless his man was?
"I love you," Coulson said. "And when this is over, you and I are gonna go away. Somewhere nice and quiet, somewhere very private, where I can make love to you until you can't walk anymore."
Seth leaned his forehead against Coulson's. "I'll hold you to that, boo. And I love you too. More every day."
37
Calix put his hand on Rhett's back and gently led him to their table in the back of the restaurant. They had sure done things in the wrong order, but here they were, mere weeks into whatever it was they had together, and this was their official first date.
At least he'd chosen a top-notch restaurant that served excellent Cuban food. Their style was pretty informal, but that suited Calix, and he'd figured Rhett would appreciate it as well. For that same reason, he'd picked lunchtime, which was less busy and much more relaxed than the dinner rush. No way was he risking triggering Rhett by bringing him into a crowded place.
Rhett waited for him to pull his chair back, and Calix smiled at the sweet gesture. He loved that Rhett allowed him to take care of him like that, that he wasn't ashamed, even when others might consider him the weaker partner. It was appallingly offensive that people not only insisted on determining roles within a male-male relationship but also had to label one of the partners the woman. Misogyny was alive and well.
"It already smells amazing," Rhett said.
"You'll love it. It's my favorite restaurant by far—not that I've frequented many, but still."
The server handed them the menus and took their drink order. Calix didn't even have to look at it. He'd been here enough times that he knew it by heart. He studied Rhett, who was perusing the menu, a frown between his brows.
He was so cute. And even now, he radiated a vulnerability, an aura of innocence, which brought out all Calix's protective instincts, but he didn't mind at all.
"It all looks amazing." Rhett glanced at Calix. "What do you recommend?"
"I love the ropa vieja, which is super tender beef cooked in tomatoes, but their masitas are really good as well. They're crispy chunks of fried pork. Just depends on what you are in the mood for."
The server was walking in their direction, but Calix signaled him they needed a few more minutes. Just then, his phone rang in his pocket. Dammit. The White House. Hopefully, it would be something short and simple. A man could dream, right?
"Calix."
"This is Director James. A few minutes ago, my agents lost visual contact of Annabeth Markinson while she was out on the water. A search and rescue effort is on the way, and obviously, we're trying to keep this under the radar, but I figured the president should know."
A disturbing ringing echoed in Calix's ears, making him dizzy for a moment. Annabeth Markinson was missing. Oh god. They'd been right. They had gotten to her.
"Calix?"
"Yeah, sorry. I'll return to the White House immediately and inform the president. Please keep us posted."
"Of course."
She ended the call without another word, and Calix slowly put his phone down on the table. His head spun. How was this possible? How did these people keep managing to be one step ahead of them? How the hell had they gotten to her on a boat?
"I need to go," he told Rhett, who was studying him with worried eyes.
"Go. I understand."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Calix, it's okay. I know what your job demands of you. Go. I'll be fine."
He pushed his chair back and got up, and Rhett did the same. A quick, firm kiss on his lips. "Will you wait for me at my house? In my bed?"
Thank god he’d given him a key to his house earlier.
Rhett nodded. "I'll be there."
One last kiss and Calix all but raced out of the restaurant. Luckily, he'd parked close. He felt deeply guilty Rhett would have to take the Metro back, but he couldn't help it, couldn't spare the time to drop him off anywhere.
As soon as he was in the car, he called the White House, asking them to patch him through to the residence. Why did these things always happen on a Saturday? And the Saturday before Christmas, for fuck's sake.
"What's wrong?" Del asked.
"Annabeth Markinson was out on the water, and the Secret Service just reported that she's gone overboard. Director James called me. Search and rescue efforts are in progress."
"How the fuck did they…? How is this even…? God, when will this end? Why couldn't we have prevented this? They were supposed to bring her in. Why didn't they do that?"
Calix couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Del rage like that.
"Coulson said the judge didn't sign the order until late yesterday evening, so they decided to wait until today."
Del cursed. "Goddammit, she must've already been out on the water by the time they got there, so they would've had to wait for her to come back. Does he know? Does the FBI know?"
"I assume so, but I haven't talked to him. I got the call two minutes ago. I'm on my way."
"I'll be in the Oval when you get here."
"I'm sorry about your Saturday. I know you had planned something with Sarah."
Del snorted. "I should've known better than to plan. This is the worst kind of job to combine with a social life, I'm telling you."
"Tell me about it," Calix muttered, then ended the call.
When he strode into the Oval Office, Del was on the phone, gesturing him over. "Hold on, Coulson. Calix is here as well. Let me put you on speaker."
"Mrs. Markinson is being brought to the hospital, but agents on the scene reported she had been unresponsive for a long time, not reacting to their CPR. They've done all they can, but it doesn't look like she'll make it."
He'd known it. As soon as Director James had told him what happened, Calix had known Mrs. Markinson would be dead. But to hear Coulson confirm it… His blood ran cold.
"What happened exactly?" he asked.
"She was out on a sailboat on her own, as she has done a thousand times before. The Secret Service was following her in another boat. Her boat capsized, and they lost visual contact. They sped up to get closer and started a search effort, but it took them a few minutes to pull her out of the water. Then they still had to get back to shore. They started CPR instantly, but…"