“He supports the teachers’ union,” one of the aides grumbled.

“Staging the debate in the planetarium,” Amy continued, “might appeal to him. The education angle.”

“It’s worth a try,” said the young man in charge of Tomlinson’s news media relations.

It was nearly one A.M. when the meeting finally broke up. Amy walked with Jake out into the dark parking lot behind the former supermarket.

“That was a good idea, Jake,” she said.

“Thanks.”

The other staffers were heading for their cars. Amy walked beside Jake as he went toward his Mustang.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to be alone together,” she said.

In the shadows of the parking lot, he couldn’t make out the expression on Amy’s face, but her voice sounded light, almost amused.

“Yeah,” he replied, uncertainly.

“I’ve neglected you, haven’t I?” she murmured.

“Yeah,” Jake repeated.

“I’ve been awfully busy with the campaign and everything,” Amy said.

“And everything,” Jake muttered.

“He needs me, Jake,” Amy said, her voice suddenly pained, urgent. “He comes across so strong and confident in public, but he’s tired of it all. It’s so demanding! He’s exhausted.”

Jake said nothing.

“I mean, there are times when I think he’d like to give it all up. He never wanted to go into politics. It’s his father, his father’s pushed him into this. That old man thinks his family ought to run the world.”

“So he needs your help,” Jake said.

They had reached Jake’s Mustang, parked under one of the light poles. A swarm of insects danced in its feeble light high above. Jake saw that Amy’s silver BMW was parked next to his own car.

“He needs your help, too,” Amy replied. “He needs all the help he can get.”

With a weary sigh, Jake said, “I suppose he does.”

“I need to talk to this graduate student of yours,” Amy said, her voice suddenly strong, firm.

“She’s not my grad student,” Jake said, thinking, Truer words were never spoken.

“I’ve set up an interview with a political blogger and she—”

“No!” Jake snapped.

Surprised, Amy said, “What do you mean, no?”

“It’s too dangerous. I don’t want her to be at risk.”

“Jake, from what you’ve told us they already know who she is.”

“Yeah, but as long as she stays quiet she’ll be okay. No interviews. No public appearances.”

“They won’t show her face.”

“No.”

“Jake, we need her to make a statement.”

“For your whispering campaign.”

“You make it sound dirty.”

“Isn’t it?”

“And murder is okay? You’re willing to let them get away with murder?”

He had no answer for that.

Stepping closer to him, Amy said, “All right, if you want to be so protective of her, would you talk to the blogger?”

“Me?”