“Because the food manufacturers don’t have to tell people precisely what goes into the food they’re eating. For example, the way the current legislation is set up, most products that are GMOs are exempt from the label saying they’re a genetically modified product. Their argument is that foods developed using new genetic methods don’t differ from the real-deal foods in any meaningful way. For instance, cows that are fed on GMO grain—are they GMO cows or not? The problem is that the government hasn’t made it clear who is in charge of what.”

“Go on.”

“I’ve recently been given new information from Double M. It’s that information I’ve come here to discuss with you.”

“Do you trust him?”

Darlene sighed. “Alas, my best quality and worst shortcoming are the same. I trust everyone—at least until they’ve given me serious reason not to.”

“In that case, I can’t think of a worse game for you to be in than politics,” Lou said.

“Amen to that. But don’t forget, I didn’t choose politics. I chose Martin.”

Lucky Martin. The thought popped uninvited into Lou’s head, and began to nest.

“I voted for your husband,” Lou said, “partly because I have the same problem you do with trust, and I read more about you as a doc than I did about him as a politician.”

“Well, then, you’ll want to listen to this.”

Victor continued driving as Darlene handed Lou an envelope containing the materials Double M had compiled regarding the call girl he knew only as Margo. Using a set of headphones Darlene provided, Lou listened to the audio of the girl prepping to entrap Russell Evans and being obliquely threatened should she fail to perform up to expectations.

“The man’s voice, whoever it is, is digitally altered,” Lou said, pulling the headphones away as if they were burning his ears. “Whoever your Double M is, he is an expert in electronics or has one on his payroll.”

For a time, they rode on in silence.

“Tough stuff,” Darlene said finally.

“She sounds awfully young. I can’t help thinking about Emily.”

“Same with me and Lisa when I first heard it.”

“Do you know what’s become of this girl?”

Darlene’s expression grew strained. “Supposedly accidental drowning while staying with her mother in Florida. Lots of alcohol in her system.”

“Damn.”

Victor cruised past American University, then down Arizona Avenue, and finally to a parking spot just off the Palisades Playground.

“You okay?” she asked.

“A little shaken, but I’m anxious to hear how this all connects with Kings Ridge.”

“In that case, let’s walk a bit.”

They stepped out of the car into heavy, damp air and headed down a narrow, paved bike trail, deserted this time of night. Lights from the city reflected off the rippling water of the Potomac. Victor followed a good distance behind.