“Lincoln Moss likes to keep his life private. Not much is available for public consumption on his marriage. There was a big hullabaloo when he married his wife because she was so gorgeous and photogenic. Now here is the odd thing about that marriage. Anytime in the past, when there was a White House function, Mrs. Moss was usually in France, where she was born and raised. Moss would say she had prior commitments, was doing photo shoots or traveling because she is the face of La Natural. I could only find two actual pictures of her at the White House. But she was there four times that are documented.

“It’s also documented that Lincoln Moss travels frequently to France, sometimes three times a month. To see his famous wife, of course, the story goes. So that tongues didn’t wag I have to assume. Mrs. Moss has never given an interview to anyone, not even to the French magazines or newspapers. I have to assume that’s all part of her mystique. I’m told that it would be quite a coup to anyone who could land an interview with her. And the prize and price for the lucky reporter who managed to get an interview with both Moss and his wife would be the ability to pretty much name his or her own price.

“That’s about all I was able to come up with. Other than that the man is beyond wealthy. He’s also a big philanthropist. As in big. People, and that means reporters, too, tread lightly around Lincoln Moss. If anyone gets too pushy or too inquisitive, they get a visit from some very important people and are pretty much never heard from again. I want to stress that while they are seen, they are not heard from again. The White House carries a really big stick, and if you’re best buds with the big guy, you got it made in the shade. Plain and simple, Lincoln Moss is off-limits.”

Nikki laughed out loud. “I think what you meant to say, Charles, is that Lincoln Moss is off-limits to the masses but not to the Vigilantes.” The others hooted with laughter.

Charles playfully slapped at his forehead. “Whatever was I thinking? That’s exactly what I meant to say.”

“It’s all right, dear, you were up all night working for us. We understand these little lapses,” Myra said.

“We’ll be starting out on the plus side. We have the power of the Post behind us. No one can shut us down, not even the leader of the free world no matter if his name is Gabriel Knight or Lincoln Moss.”

This time the group clapped and hooted their approval.

“Let’s not forget Jack Sparrow, our friend at the FBI,” Kathryn said.

“And our gold shields,” Maggie chirped. She rubbed her hands together in glee. “Where and when do we start?”

“Oh, good Lord!” Pearl bellowed. “Look at this! Dear God, how did this happen?” She held up her phone to show the same picture of Amalie Laurent that Charles had just used in his PowerPoint presentation. “It was on the cover of this week’s edition of that tabloid, In the Know, which came out three days ago. They have a circulation of around 2 million and are front and center at every checkout counter in every grocery store in the nation. I read that somewhere,” Pearl said, panic ringing in her voice.