The folding chairs were rapidly filling. Kim signaled to the head of the Young People’s Chorus that the children should take their positions on the riser. The kids looked super, and no doubt, Darlene was imagining what it would be like going from exam room to exam room in her office, taking care of every one of them. You can take the pediatrician out of the practice, Kim was thinking, but you can never take the pediatrician out of this woman.

She straightened out a couple of chairs and patted two of the younger kids on the shoulder.

It was showtime.

From the podium, with the emblem of the presidential seal facing the crowd, she instructed people to take their seats. There was a rustle of movement and the dwindling murmur of voices as the guests settled in. Darlene was seated to the left of the podium. President Callaghan’s husband was seated to the right. Both presidents had musical cues that would instruct them when to enter.

“Is POTUS in position?” Kim spoke into her radio.

A crackled reply came back, “Ready to go.”

“Good.”

Kim nodded to her assistant, and moments later the musicians began to play the Irish march, “Wind That Shakes the Barley.” President Callaghan emerged through the Oval Office French doors to enthusiastic applause. She stood in front of the podium, waving to the powerful and influential guests, many of whom had Irish heritage, strong ties to her country, or both.

Scanning the crowd, Kim stepped away from the podium and listened from the lawn nearest to the risers. She was startled by a light tap on her leg and looked down to see a mocha-skinned girl with ebony pigtails, wearing the plaid pinafore and black tights of the girls, smiling up at her shyly. Kim knelt down.

“Honey, you’re supposed to be on the riser with the others,” she whispered. “Your song is right after President Mallory makes his entrance.”

“But I need to tell you something,” the child said in a honey-sweet voice.

“Me? What is it, sweetie?”

“A man said to tell you that your present is in your purse.”

Kim took in a sharp breath.

I’ll be in touch.

“What man?”

“The one who came up to me right after I got off the bus.”

“Do you remember what he looked like?”

“He had a red and white Washington Nationals hat on. They’re my favorite team.”

The crowd was settled, and Kim realized that the director of the chorus was looking over at them.

“Everything okay with Simone?” he said in a stage whisper.

“Fine,” Kim said. “You did good, Simone. You did perfect. Now, go back with the kids and give us a terrific concert.”

A Washington Nationals cap.

Double M seemed to be an expert at disguise by diversion. Give a person like the bartender and this child something easy to focus on, and in all likelihood, that would be all they recalled.