Amy was at his side, in a lilac cocktail dress and plenty of diamonds. Tomlinson’s father, in a pompous old-fashioned tuxedo and black tie, prowled restlessly among the growing crowd, looking as if he wanted to kill somebody. Jake recognized many of the campaign workers and volunteers in the suite. News reporters and camera crews were filtering in, too—they clustered near the bar, Jake noticed.

Tim Younger came in, with Glynis. He looked out of place in cowboy boots, jeans, and a bolo tie among the city slickers in their three-piece suits. But if that bothered Tim he didn’t show it. Glynis wore an off-white ball gown. She intends to go dancing, Jake thought. Jake was in his best and only blue suit, feeling stiffly uncomfortable with his maroon tie knotted at his throat.

Happy to see her, Jake made his way through the growing crowd toward Glynis and Younger.

“I’m glad you could make it,” he said to them.

Before they could reply, the crowd whooped. Turning toward the TV screen, Jake saw that Tomlinson had built up a commanding lead.

“That’s just the returns from the city,” Tomlinson Senior barked, gesturing for the onlookers to calm down. “Dant’s main strength is out in the rural areas. Don’t go breaking out the champagne just yet.”

Amy Wexler looked more than pleased, though, as she hung on Tomlinson’s arm. “Dant won’t be able to overcome that big a lead,” she said to Tomlinson’s father. The old man gave her a cold glare and walked away.

“How’re you doing?” Jake asked Glynis. He hadn’t seen much of her for the past few weeks.

“I’m all right,” she said.

Younger excused himself and headed for the bar. Jake pulled Glynis toward one of the heavily draped windows and asked, more quietly, “Have you located Dr. McGruder?”

Nodding, she replied, “He’s retired to a town called Cape Coral, in Florida. No e-mail address, so I’ve written him a letter. He hasn’t responded to it.”

“Can you phone him?”

“I have, several times. I get an answering machine, but he hasn’t returned my calls.”

Jake thought a moment, then said, “Looks like he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Then I’ll have to go out there and face him in person.”

Jake saw that Glynis was deadly serious. “Glyn, if your suspicions are anywhere near being right, going to see McGruder could be … well, dangerous.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I do!” Jake blurted.

Her eyes went wide, but before she could say anything Younger came back with a pair of plastic champagne flutes.

As he handed one to Glynis, he said, “Sorry, Jake. Only got two hands.”

Jake was staring at Glynis. She accepted the champagne from Younger, but as she raised the glass to her lips the crowd roared.