“I didn’t expect to hear back from you right away,” said Donny.

“Well, I was up working. And you said you had information about my daughter.”

Donny already felt guilty for doing that. Even though it worked.

“What’s got you working this late?”

“I’m in Washington. Advising the Texas delegation to the Constitutional Convention.”

“How’s that going?”

“Slowly. I’m stuck in this working-group session right now that promises to go all night.”

“Jesus, it’s two in the morning there.”

“No shit. We’re up against a deadline, but we’re deadlocked, about what the threshold will be for calling a national referendum. These direct-democracy people drive me up the wall. They have no idea what a mess this will be.”

“I’m surprised you’re able to work,” said Donny.

“Keeps my mind off it. And we need to get this done, so the country can get back to work.”

“Sounds like you never stopped. I should have figured you’d only get busier the more messed up the country got.”

“I’m fortunate to have clients who keep me busy. Mostly with work like this. More lobbying than lawyering, figuring out what the new rules are going to be. Surprisingly rewarding, in fact. A chance at a fresh start.”

“Are you happy?”

“Am I happy? What kind of stupid fucking question is that?” Queens still came through strong in Lou’s voice, even after a couple of decades in Texas.

“I mean, is this the life you wanted?”

“Not since your motherfucking clients seized the golf courses.”

“Come on,” said Donny. “You know what I mean.”

“We’re lawyers, Donny. We’re not supposed to be happy.”

Donny laughed. “Now I remember why I never talk to you—because you’re always so uncomfortably right.”

“Last time I talked to you, you gave me a twenty-minute, expletive-laden screed about how I was a ‘house pet for kleptocrats’ with blood on my hands. Now you tell me you have news about my kid, and then you give me this bullshit. I guess you must want something.”

Donny remembered that argument. It wasn’t long after Lou helped Donny pay the bribe that had freed Joyce. Donny had waited to vent until Joyce was actually free. He could tell from Lou’s voice now that the bridge between them had been successfully burned. They had been colleagues, once. But now it was like two guys who had fought in the same unit, only to realize they had been on different sides in the war.

“I’m sorry about Heather, Lou. But I think I can help.”

“Don’t patronize me, you snake. What’s your game, Donny? You’re their number-one lawyer, for Christ’s sake.”

The bitterness in his voice was real, and raw. Drawing it out was a shitty thing to do. But it seemed to be working.

“Not lately,” said Donny. “If ever. My most famous client kind of messed that up.”