After a few seconds, Kaiser says, “Let me make some calls. I’m just getting up to speed on some of this. I probably won’t know for sure what I can do until tomorrow morning. Can you protect your folks until then?”

“I think so. And anything you need on my side of the river, let me know. I’ll get it done.”

“Do you have a lot of influence with Shad Johnson?” The lightest touch of irony colors Kaiser’s voice.

“I can still make things happen here when I need to,” I assure him.

“Good.” The FBI agent gives me a 504 cell number, which I enter into my contacts list, and then I let him go.

“Was that John Kaiser?” Caitlin asks, her face strangely flushed.

“Yes. He’s coming up here tomorrow.”

Her face lights up as though I’ve announced that Robert Redford is coming to town.

“What’s the deal?” I ask. Annie, too, looks curious.

“Don’t you know who Kaiser’s wife is?” Caitlin asks.

“No.”

“Jordan Glass!”

I shake my head, perplexed. Then it hits me. “The war photographer? From Oxford, Mississippi?”

“Yes. Holy shit.”

Annie is bemused by Caitlin’s schoolgirl excitement.

“Jordan Glass has won two Pulitzers,” Caitlin informs us. “Maybe three. Not to mention the goddamn Robert Capa Gold Medal. Not that it matters. She’s past all that. Glass is like Nachtwey, or even Dickey Chappelle, for God’s sake! She’s on that level.”

“You have a Pulitzer,” I remind her.

Caitlin dismisses this with a flick of her hand. “I was lucky. Jordan Glass is the shit. She’s a freaking legend.”

Annie is shaking her head in amazement.

“Are you sure she’s married to this John Kaiser?” I ask, motioning for Annie to leave the room.

“I’ll stop cursing,” Caitlin promises, signaling Annie to stay. “I read all of Henry’s stories last night, remember? He mentioned Kaiser several times, so I checked him out. He’s married to her, all right. They met while working a big murder case in New Orleans.” Caitlin shrugs. “You know me.”

That I do. No stone left unturned, no matter how far off the main path it may be. “Well, the assault on Henry really upset Kaiser. I think we’re finally going to see some federal action on the Double Eagle group.”

“Based on the bones Kirk Boisseau found?”

“That’ll be the legal justification.”

“Can I print anything about the bones yet?”

“Not until you clear it with Henry.”

A shadow flits across her features. I hope it’s guilt for being so ready to exploit the misfortune of a colleague. When a story gets hot, Caitlin instantly reverts from publisher to reporter, and in that mode she operates with the ruthless dispassion of a surgeon.

“You said ‘I figured as much’ to Kaiser,” she observes. “What did he tell you?”

Christ. “I can’t tell you. He made that very clear.”