“I feel the same way,” Darlene said, “but so far, the way the facts are stacking up, things look pretty bad. Still, he never was anything other than helpful to me. Victor, we’d be happy to speak with him.”

CHAPTER 7

Agents moved quickly to escort Darlene and Kim to the front of the bar. The tightness in Darlene’s chest refused to abate. Meeting with Evans like this would be juicy fodder for the paparazzi.

Darlene had heard rumors that Evans was going to plead guilty to statutory rape charges in connection to a motel rendezvous with a teenage prostitute. When the news broke, Darlene had sent him a supportive note expressing her hope that an explanation would come clear for the episode, and urging him to put his faith in the justice system. Perhaps, she wondered, he had been unable to take her words to heart, and wanted to position himself for a presidential pardon.

Not only had their lifelong friendship endured, but she had taken a med school elective course in farming and nutrition that he taught. Years later, she was the one to suggest that Martin consider appointing Evans—then an instructor in farming economics—as Secretary of Agriculture. Martin subsequently stood by their friend despite a fair amount of opposition in Congress.

Darlene and Kim followed the agents through a doorway to a narrow stairwell that ascended to the balcony level. At the end of another hallway, they came to a padded vinyl door.

“We’ve already checked the room. It’s safe to go in,” Ochoa said.

Darlene pushed open the door and allowed Kim to enter first. Evans was alone, seated at a low table in the center of a dimly lit, cavelike room. The paneled walls were painted black, and the mood lighting cast deep shadows across Evans’s round face. During the months since Darlene had last seen him, he seemed to have aged years. He stood up somewhat clumsily as the women entered, and Darlene wondered if he might have been drinking. He was a large, usually cheery man with thinning light brown hair, and at this moment, he exuded gloom.

“Darlene. Kim. Thanks for coming up,” he said, extending his meaty hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Russ,” Darlene said, giving him a quick hug in lieu of his proffered handshake. “You look as if you’re holding up okay.”

Evans replied with his trademark deep baritone laugh. “I’ve gained fifteen pounds and am rapidly losing what little hair I had left,” he said. “But I’ll accept the compliment anyway.”

Darlene’s apprehension was replaced with a heavy sadness at seeing the man looking so beaten. Evans had eschewed life on his family’s farm in exchange for a master’s degree and a faculty position at an agricultural college. Before the scandal hit, she had enjoyed meetings in his office, surrounded by framed photographs of America’s farmland.

“Agent Ochoa said you wanted to speak with me. Is it about your case?”

“Please. Have a seat.” Evans pushed closer to the table. “I was at your event today.”