Darlene wore a brunet wig in addition to the same white-framed tinted glasses she had on the evening she met with Double M. The disguise worked well. In her tight-fitting jeans and studded leather jacket, Darlene blended in perfectly with the other nighthawks enjoying an early-morning meal at Chef Chen’s. No one in the eatery seemed to recognize the First Lady of the United States, seated alone in a back booth, not far from the kitchen.

Victor Ochoa, on high alert, was at a lacquered table directly across from her. He sipped absently at his tea while constantly scanning the room—especially the main entrance.

The girls weren’t going to show.

Darlene made the briefest eye contact with the man committed to protecting her at all costs, and shrugged. Her pulse had been racing since she met him by the exit in the basement below the White House pantry. Ochoa was driving his private car, and his composure kept her reasonably grounded.

“I need your help finding this girl,” she had said to him on the ride from the movie theater back to the White House. She handed him the stack of photographs that Double M had given to her.

Ochoa studied the images and set them facedown on his lap. “Is she a prostitute?” he asked.

Darlene was stunned. “How did you—?”

“Just a lucky guess. Secret Service agents like to think we’re a special breed of law enforcement, but underneath the dark suits and shades, we’re really all just cops at heart. This her fingerprint?”

“Yes. And that’s a sample of her voice. Her name may be Margo. That’s all I have.”

“That’s a lot. I’ve got a few friends working with D.C. vice. If it’s all right with you, I’ll let them look these over, and see what they come up with.”

What they came up with was the name Margo Spencer, a doe-eyed sixteen-year-old, seasoned call girl, who disappeared shortly after Russ Evans resigned, but before his case was prosecuted. In fact, without access to their star witness, the U.S. Attorney’s Office in D.C. opted not to bring the case to trial at all. Evans’s disgrace, the head of the office begrudgingly decided, would have to be punishment enough. The police and FBI could not explain why Margo had disappeared. Because of her age, she’d been spared the limelight that had shone on other women who played a part in the downfall of other well-known public figures.

“I would imagine she’s laying low until the noise surrounding Evans dies down,” Ochoa said.

“I don’t think so, Victor,” Darlene replied. “I think she’s afraid of the people who hired her.”