“At this hour, the police have no suspects, but they continue to work the case. While no one in law enforcement has confirmed there’s a link between the bomb threat and call, they did acknowledge they’re exploring that possibility. We’ll keep you updated as new developments arise.”

Buzz picked up the remote and pressed the off button.

No mention that Eve had any plans to take a hiatus from her show.

Too bad.

Her ideas were dangerous—and the fact that she had a huge platform to present them to gullible people who could be easily swayed by articulate, if erroneous, arguments made her dangerous.

She had to be shut down.

And given all that had happened, she would be.

Especially if the siege she was under continued.

Because everyone had their breaking point.

9

THE TALK HAD GONE WELL —even if far too many of the questions from the audience had been related to the furor in her life during the past week rather than the topic of tonight’s program

Hopefully morbid curiosity about her personal tribulations wasn’t responsible for the large turnout. That would be an ego buster, and after all—

“Wonderful job, Eve.”

She swiveled as a female voice spoke behind her. The school principal was approaching, several members of the audience in her wake.

“Thank you.”

“We so appreciate you giving up your Saturday night to join us.”

“It was my pleasure. And it’s a special treat to speak to parents and teachers of young teens. That’s the perfect age to lay a solid grounding in the principles that define America.”

“I couldn’t agree more. As you pointed out in your speech, few young people understand how our government works—or why it was structured as a constitutional republic. We have to do a better job teaching civics in our schools.”

“Hear, hear.” An older gentleman spoke up behind the woman.

The principal smiled. “A number of people had questions they didn’t get a chance to ask during the Q&A. Can you spare a few minutes to chat with them?”

Eve stifled a sigh. It was almost nine o’clock . . . she’d been up since six . . . yesterday’s fast and furious show had exhausted her . . . and stripping floors all day had taken a physical toll.

But she owed every gig her best effort. It was always possible a simple conversation could be the catalyst that encouraged someone to take a deeper interest in defending the country’s founding principles.

“Of course.”

Thirty minutes and more than a few questions later, as she finished the impromptu Q&A and collected her purse and notes, the principal rejoined her.

“Sorry to keep you this late. If it’s any consolation, you should be flattered by all the questions. Only on rare occasions does anyone hang around after our evening PTA programs.”