Starrell could taste Lopez’s stale breath.

“Yeah,” he said. “But I got to find Raymond. You know him?”

“If what you’ve got is important, I’m sure Raymond will find you. People got a way of knowing when they’re being looked for.”

“But if you see him, you tell him, okay? He probably don’t know what he left behind is important.”

“We all leave stuff behind. And speaking of that …”

Lopez grabbed Starrell’s arm, right where it hurt. He yanked him toward the door.

“Excuse my manners,” Lopez said. “But if I stop watching these fags for five minutes, the shit hits the rotor.”

They left the office and Lopez pushed Starrell across the dance floor. The bar was filling up. Starrell bumped into a short, skinny man wearing cowboy boots, latex shorts, and a tank top. As Lopez propelled him along, Starrell searched the crowd for Raymond. Be a pro, he told himself. Do the job.

At the door, Lopez released his hold on Starrell and slapped Starrell’s rear. “Now scoot,” he said. Two patrons entering the bar laughed at the sight. But Starrell didn’t care. He had found a place where Raymond could be found. And he could see the neon sign of the Italian restaurant where Dunne was waiting.

26 - Foggy Bottom June 27

26

Foggy Bottom June 27

The bar at Kinkead’s was emptying out. Julia Lancette ran a finger along the rim of the wine glass. Above the bar, the television was turned to CNN. Only in Washington, she thought. Grayton was late. He had called her office twice to inform her he was running behind. That had given her more time to sit in her office chair, stare at her desk, and consider what she should do regarding her conversation with Charlie Walters. She had not heard anything from the red-bearded man at the Gauntlet bar, nothing about the man with a glass eye and the tattoo. She did not know what to do next.

President Mumfries was on the television. The sound was too low for Lancette to hear, but she knew what he was saying. Earlier in the day, at a luncheon held by a business lobbying group, he had declared he would run for President. As he made the announcement, Lancette’s mother called, and they watched the speech together. “You know why he’s making his announcement there,” her mother had said. “Because there are no reporters to ask him what he thinks about Margaret Hanover running.”