To Sinclair, Jake said, “I’ll have to tell Tomlinson why you can’t back his campaign.”

“And he’ll splash it all over the news media,” Sinclair moaned.

With a shake of his head, Jake replied, “No, there’s no point to that. It won’t help anything. Tomlinson will understand that.”

Perez said, “The best thing for you, kid, is to keep yer big mouth shut.”

“I’ll have to tell Tomlinson,” Jake insisted.

“Would you keep quiet for ten grand?”

Jake blinked at Perez. “Ten thousand dollars?”

“Tax free.” Perez’s lean, swarthy face broke into a knowing grin.

“No thanks.”

The grin disappeared. “You tryin’ to hold us up for more money?”

“I don’t want your money.”

“You’re gonna make things hard on yourself, kid.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Could be.”

Jake drew himself up as straight as he could and tried to keep Monster’s image out of his mind. “Beating me up is the surest way to break this story to the news media.”

“Who said anything about a beatin’?” Perez countered, with exaggerated innocence. Then he added, “But you could have an accident. Icy roads, too much to drink—”

“No!” Sinclair shouted. “I won’t have any part of that.”

Perez shrugged. “It ain’t your department, Prof. You got nothin’ to say about it.”

“I’ve already told one of Tomlinson’s aides about my visit with Mrs. Sinclair,” Jake lied. “Told her on the cell phone while I was driving back from Vernon. If anything happens to me, she’ll go straight to the news reporters.”

Perez started to say something, then thought better of it. Sinclair sat at his desk, bowed over like a man loaded down with a burden that threatened to overwhelm him.

Jake turned around and headed for the door, thinking, I hope they believe me. I hope Monster’s not downstairs waiting to break my legs. I’ve got to tell Tomlinson about this while I have the chance.

Surprises

SURPRISES

As soon as Jake got to his own office he phoned Tomlinson. An aide told him in a haughty, know-it-all tone that Mr. Tomlinson was across the state, campaigning in the small farming towns.

“Amy Wexler, then,” Jake said into the phone.

“Ms. Wexler is with Mr. Tomlinson.”

Of course she is, Jake thought. Of course she is.

“Is there anyone else I could connect you to?” asked the aide.

“No,” Jake said. “I’ll try her cell phone.”

All he got was the cell phone’s message service. She doesn’t even have the phone turned on, Jake said to himself. Looking out his office window, he saw that the sun was low on the horizon. Long purple shadows were creeping across the campus.

I wonder what motel they’ll shack up in tonight, Jake grumbled silently.

His phone rang. Grabbing it, he blurted, “Amy?”