Graham stood. “Can’t keep your colleagues waiting.” He rested a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I’ll get you out of this Lexicore mess and get your money back.”

“Don’t sweat the money. Being a millionaire wasn’t as much fun as it would’ve been with John around to help me spend the dough.”

Graham smiled. “I’ll be having a conversation with my broker about this entire situation. I’ll make sure the rest of your money is safe and sound, but I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to cut me out of the loop.”

“That’s not happening, so don’t even talk about it.”

“Where’re you going with the president?”

“Can’t tell ya,” Nick said with a smile.

“Ahh, well, I can use my imagination to figure out your most likely destination, so I’ll just say be safe, Godspeed and God bless.”

“Thank you.” Nick hugged him. “Take care and give my love to Laine.”

“Will do.”

* * *

Sam allowed Hill to do the driving because she wanted time to think over everything they’d discussed in their meeting. On the way to the stadium, they listened to Big Ben Markinson on WFBR as he worked his listeners into a frenzy speculating about what might’ve happened to Willie Vasquez.

“I’m sorry,” one caller said, “but the bastard had it coming to him. He totally screwed us out of a trip to the World Series.”

“And you think he deserved to die for that?” Big Ben asked.

“Let’s put it this way—no one will mourn his passing.”

“Not even his wife or his two little kids or his parents?”

“You know what I mean, Ben. Why are you getting all sentimental? You were as mad as anyone yesterday.”

“That was before I knew someone killed the poor guy. I know we’re all bummed about the game, but Willie is dead. I mean... I’m sorry, but I don’t think he deserved to die for not catching a baseball.”

“You’ve gone soft, man.”

“Your opinion. Get me someone else, Marcy.”

The next caller wasn’t much more forgiving, but did express a bit of empathy toward Willie’s wife and kids.

“People are seriously fucked up,” Sam said.

“Seriously.”

When they arrived at the stadium, the same receptionist from the day before sent them right up to the executive offices in the elevator that had no buttons.

“How does it know where to go?” Sam asked, studying the panel of red lights that meant something to someone. They meant nothing to her.

“I think it’s only got one destination.”

“Let me do the talking in there.”

“Of course, Lieutenant. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His sarcasm wasn’t lost on Sam, but she refrained from commenting. She missed Freddie and his sucking up. Tomorrow they’d get back to normal.