Her boyfriend, Clay, and his buddy, Jake, who had taken me out on the stretcher both nod. Clay says, “It was a slow night.”

“Did they follow?” I ask.

“Yep,” Sara says with a nod. “They’re probably two lights behind us.”

A minute later, the ambulance pulls up to Summer Park and I jump out.

“Good luck.”

I nod and take off running.

…

I bang on the window and she jumps.

“Shit, you scared me,” she says, climbing out of her Crown Vic.

“How long have you been here?”

“I got here right at three, just like you said.” She pauses. “You gonna tell me what this is all about?”

I scan the side street for approaching headlights. “Not yet. Not till he gets here.”

“Who?”

I ignore her.

Ten seconds later, lights turn onto the street and grow brighter as the car pulls into the lot and parks next to us.

The door opens and he says, “Get in.”

Ray's eyebrows jump five inches off her forehead. “Is that the President?”

I nod.

The two of us climb in the back of the town car.

Connor is wearing the same outfit as last time: jeans and a gray sweatshirt.

“This is Detective Ingrid Ray from the Alexandria PD,” I say.

He takes her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. President.”

“Likewise.” Then turning to me, he asks, “So what is this about?”

I hadn't told him anything. In fact, I'd simply called the private number he'd given me the day we'd first met and left a message telling him to meet me at Summer Park at 3:15 a.m. That it was important.

I hand a piece of paper to him and say, “Tell your driver to go to this address.”

He looks down at the paper, if the address means anything to him, he doesn't show it. He pushes a button and the divider slides down and he passes the paper through to his driver.

“Hey, Red,” I say.

He nods.

The divider goes back up and the car begins to move.

I can feel four eyes on me.

“You lied to me.”

The President doesn't flinch.

“There was no video.”

Sullivan's face is marble.

“You never slept with her. She never seduced you.”

I wait for Sullivan to scoff, to tell me that I'm full of shit, to get out of his car.

He doesn't.

“She was your daughter.”

Ray pinches my leg. A “what the hell are you doing?” pinch.

“Yes, she is.”

“What?” Ray shouts. “Jessica is your daughter?”

He nods.

“Wait, what, how . . .” Ray bumbles.

“I'll explain in a second,” I tell her.

“How did you find out?” Sullivan asks.

“Your son.”

He sighs.

“She told him to call her Jessie.”

“Jessie? I thought her name was Jessica?” Ray shouts, trying to piece things together.