“Maybe yes, maybe no,” he said. “Could be he’s just a careful guy. But the thing that sticks out at me is how strong he went at Fowler. Real heavy-handed. Begela couldn’t’ve made it any clearer he’d be spreading bad word about their coverage if they didn’t back off, which to me sounds like political blackmail.”

“Agreed,” Nimec said. “That’s pretty sleazy for somebody who writes about his good conscience. Don’t know what kind of fair play laws they have in this country, but in ours, he’d have been pushing toward a serious breach.”

Scull nodded.

“Big time, Petey,” he said. “Big time.”

They rode along in silence a while. The Rover took a sharp turn and swung Nimec to one side, making him a little dizzy as he braced himself in his seat.

DeMarco flicked a glance at him in the rearview.

“Sorry, chief, almost missed our exit,” he said. “Guess I was too busy thinking about what Vince said to you a minute ago.”

Scull leaned forward over the backrest. “About what?”

DeMarco shrugged, his eyes on the road again.

“Gunville trying to lead us into the woods,” he said. “Because I have to admit, it sounds to me like there are more big bad wolves running around in them than we can count.”

“Are you going to come out and say this is the last time, or does it have to be me?”

Roger Gordian paused silently over an open valise on the bed, a starched, pressed, and folded dress shirt in his hands. His wife’s question was not altogether a surprise, and he had no wish to avoid it. While Gordian had trouble sharing his innermost thoughts even with those dearest to him, the days when he’d kept them in a lockbox were long past. The sharing wasn’t always comfortable, but he did it for those he loved, and because in his heart he acknowledged it was important for him, too. With Ashley, now, especially, he tried. Their marriage had suffered too much when he hadn’t.

Sometimes, though, he still needed urging. And if Ashley had intentionally posed her question as an ultimatum to grab his attention, she’d succeeded.