“Oh, shut the fuck up, you bucket of lard. Last time you picked up a book you freaked out because it had already been colored in.” He turned back to Lou. “I’m a sophomore—well, a junior with four more credits.”

“That’s terrific,” Lou said. “What are you majoring in?”

“Biology.”

“He’s learning how to grow weed,” Notso said.

“You wish. Believe me, if I ever start growing weed, you’ll be the last to know.”

Cap groaned his displeasure. “George, will you shut your mouth and keep your eyes locked on that car ahead. This ain’t a joke.”

“Why do you think I called you about them? I know bad when I see it.”

For a short while, the four fell silent. Cap managed to stay four or five cars behind the Caddy without losing sight of it. After a mile or so, it turned onto the highway headed west. Another mile, and Lou had it figured out.

“Cap,” he said. “I believe I know exactly where these guys are headed.”

“Yeah? And where’s that?”

“Kings Ridge, Virginia,” Lou said.

Notso smiled. In the flash of approaching headlights, his teeth shone. “That’s way cool,” he said. “I ain’t never been to Virginia before.”

Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

Darlene knew what she was about to do might end her marriage—if not in fact, then at least to all intents. Martin had learned about her meeting with Russ Evans almost as soon as it happened. Should he learn of this one, he would never understand—especially if she turned out to be wrong about Evans.

But she wasn’t wrong.

An anxious young woman’s voice on a high-tech recording told her so. And hopefully, very soon, she would have proof. Of course, it was always possible that the tape was a fabrication, but to what end? Even if someone put together a fake, even if the young woman was an actress, Russ Evans was finished politically.

The three cars escorting Darlene and Kim to the movies—a town car and two nondescript sedans—pulled to a stop a block past the iconic Regent Street Theater. Dusk was settling over the district. During the intentionally circuitous ride from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Darlene gazed out at the streets teeming with people, moving through their lives, making connections only when they wanted to. She had willingly given up that privilege when she and Martin entered the campaign. Now, she felt wistful that Russ Evans could no longer walk comfortably among people without attracting unwanted attention.

With half an hour to go before the movie, the advance team of agents completed its assignment with trademark efficiency and radioed to Victor Ochoa that it was safe for Buttercup and Wildcat to enter the theater. Darlene had forgotten the name of the film they were going to see until she read it posted out front on the illuminated marquee. Double M had chosen a PG-13 chick flick.