“I’ll take care of it,” O’Connor said. “You know, she’s all moved out of the residence. We’re like a camp behind enemy lines here. Dan won’t even come on the White House grounds.”

“A true loss.” He pictured Carey and O’Connor scheming together—and cringed.

“But we’re moving everything to Blair House. And it’s not always wrong to listen to what Dan has to say.”

“Sure.”

“So you’re going to sit it out, the campaign?”

Addis didn’t feel like answering.

“Doing nothing is doing something,” O’Connor said. “There are other drivers on the road.”

“Guess I’m out of gas. You can pitch me later.”

Addis realized he was gripping the phone tightly. His palm was sweaty. He looked out the window. A young boy was pushing a big bass drum on a dolly down the street by himself.

“Okay, I should go,” she said. “But you and Holly?”

“It’s nothing, M. T. Really. Just keeping me company. I’ll tell you about it when I’m back.”

“Sure thing, Romeo.”

“Really. She’s seeing this guy.”

“Then she’s probably doing a reality check with you.”

Glad I could be of help.

“Good night, comrade,” he said.

“Later,” O’Connor replied.

Addis returned the receiver to its cradle. He realized that he still did not know how Hynes-Pierce had learned of his trip to New Orleans. He stared out the window and listened to the water pouring into the tub.

30 - The Gauntlet June 28

30

The Gauntlet June 28

Stares. Lancette felt covered with them as she moved through the packed bar. She pushed at bodies to clear a path. Her hand slid across sweaty flesh. She was jostled. Her head ached; her body was sore. She avoided meeting the eyes trained on her. As she headed toward the office, she went over her list of suspects. One was Lopez—or a friend of his. But then it might be someone in the Agency. Walters had been scared. Perhaps she should have been. Grayton maybe? How melodramatic: a romantic dinner, then an assault on the highway. She certainly couldn’t tell Wenner that someone from within—a member of the community—may have chased her off the road, without telling him why. Best to start with Lopez. She didn’t have to answer his questions.

Without knocking, she opened the door to his office. He was in his chair, on the phone, his back to the door.

“Now try again,” he said, without bothering to turn. “And this time make believe you have god-damn manners and knock.”

Lancette walked up to the desk.

“Who did you tell about me?” she asked.

Big Daddy Lopez wheeled his chair around.

“I’m on a personal call at the moment, missy. You wait outside and I’ll be right with you.”

“No. Hang up the god-damn phone.”

A bemused smile formed on Lopez’s face.