“Are you here for the military contract hearing?” he asked Gray. “It’s going to be a triumph. Our biggest ever. Of course, you’ll probably be disappointed. It’s mostly baked beans and chipped beef. They contain no hidden ingredients or chemicals you can pretend are dangerous, so there’s no follow-up story in it for Good Housekeeping in a lame attempt to tarnish our reputation.”

“I’m actually relieved to hear it,” Gray responded. His goal wasn’t to ruin the Magruders, it was make them print an accurate list of ingredients on every can of food they sold.

“I’ll just bet you are,” Clyde drawled. “By the way, how’s your brother doing in prison? Any news?”

Gray flushed but said nothing. Thinking about Luke during this meeting had the potential to throw his concentration, and he couldn’t afford it.

Clyde leaped into the uncomfortable silence as he turned to the Larkins. “You heard about his brother, right? Spy for the Cubans? Due to stand trial for treason next year? All very shocking.”

Given the way Maude and Roy shifted in discomfort, this was the first they’d heard of it. Roy nervously glanced at Annabelle, who gave the tiniest nod to confirm the story.

“That’s a real shame,” Roy said uncomfortably. “A real shame.”

The Washington Post had printed a retraction of Dickie Shuster’s original story, claiming Luke Delacroix was in Cuba to trade in cigars and no charges for treasonous activities had been filed against him, which was all true. Those charges were surely coming, but for now the retraction would protect Caroline’s job at the White House.

“So what brings you to a military contract negotiation?” Clyde asked Roy, his gaze flitting to the older man’s suspenders and work boots. “The deal is for eight hundred tons of baked beans and six hundred tons of chipped beef. Not exactly something of interest to a man with a hundred-acre wheat farm.”

Roy kept rotating his hat in his hands. “Oh . . . I’m very interested,” he stammered.

Clyde laughed and clapped Roy on the shoulder. “I like your initiative.” He grinned. “Hold on to that positive attitude, and you might go far.”

Annabelle looked ready to combust, and Gray put his hand on her shoulder to calm her. It was time to leave for the meeting, and letting Clyde feel like he had the upper hand was fine. He’d learn otherwise soon enough.

A conference table dominated the center of the meeting room, while rows of additional seating circled the room. Gray led the Larkins to the first row of seats that had been reserved for the public. Annabelle looked nervous, Maude sour, and Roy craned his neck in every direction to gape at the gilded decorations on the coffered ceiling.