"Excellent. So, I was wondering if you might have a little time today for me, say lunch?"

"Provided my patient doesn't need me, I can do that."

"Wonderful. We're moored at the Capital Yacht Club downriver from you. I'll send a driver to pick you up at noon. Once you get a look at Aphrodite, I don't think you'll feel too guilty about nudging me out of the Watergate."

Given how much everyone in D.C. seemed to know everyone else's business, Gabe half-expected the tycoon to mention the shattered rear window in his Buick.

"I'll be waiting in front," Gabe said.

"Perfect. Bring your appetite."

Gabe set the receiver down and then pushed open the drapes, flooding LeMar's wondrous apartment with morning light. Four stories below, the Potomac sparkled. Somewhere downriver, the apartment's owner was probably sitting on the deck of the boat named for the Greek goddess of love and beauty, sipping some exotic blend of Arabian coffees, while his companies continued churning away, adding to his net worth at a rate far faster than he could ever spend.

Nice life, sir . . . except for a little problem with your son.

Gabe chose some Kenyan beans from the wide variety in the freezer and spooned them into the built-in Coffee Master. The single push of a button took the selection from beans to brew. Not surprisingly, the result was perfect.

Nice life.

Cup in hand, he retrieved his address book from the desk, opened it to the Bs, and set it by the phone.

He had made his decision regarding Drew Stoddard. Now it was time to put this aspect of his plan in motion. He dialed and listened to the ringing of Kyle Blackthorn's private line, picturing the small office fifteen hundred miles away, warmly decorated with Indian weavings and artifacts, mostly Arapaho, Blackthorn's tribe.

"Dr. Blackthorn."

"Kyle, it's Gabe."

"Hey, brother. I feel like I should break into a rendition of 'Hail to the Chief.' But I really only use that one at tribal councils."

"Hey, that's pretty funny. And here I thought you guys had no sense of humor at all."

"You doing okay in the big city?"

"Pretty much. I miss everyone back there, but they allow cowboy boots in the White House, so I'm managing."

"What can I do for you, my friend?"

"You can let me send you first-class tickets and fly out here to do what you do."

"The patient?"

"I'd rather brief you when you get here."

"Does it have to be soon?"

"Very. Can you juggle your schedule?"

"I know you wouldn't be calling like this if it wasn't important, and you know that after you saved my mother's life there's nothing that I wouldn't do for you."

"Someone will call you later today with travel details."

"It will be good to see you, my friend."

"Don't forget to bring your testing stuff."

"I never leave home without it."

CHAPTER 14