He ignored the People magazine he’d thrown there the night before. It wasn’t his type of magazine, but his campaign consultant had mailed it to him. The headline stared up from the bar. A fifty most beautiful people list. Five bucks said his name was on that list somewhere, and for the next few weeks, he would have invitation after invitation to events that he didn’t care about from women who wanted to appear with him like he was their fashion accessory. Every time a list came out, the same charade unfolded, and every time, it gave him a headache.

“Are you kidding me? You know better than to touch evidence.”

That made Asher chuckle. Murphy was formal because he was supposed to be. But they were about the same age and had the same get-the-job-done disposition. By the time they found Maxwell, he and Murphy would probably be buds.

Asher poured a glass of scotch and shrugged. “Sorry, man. Anger got the best of me. I would’ve stood on my front porch, giving the finger to anyone interested, but then I’d have to deal with that picture on the front page of the Washington Post. One nuisance at a time.”

“I’ll head your way with a couple guys. We’ll be discreet.”

Asher swirled the drink in his hand and walked into the kitchen. “Thanks, man—”

Another note was centered in the middle of his stainless steel refrigerator. His Georgetown home was where he crashed, not really his home. That was in New York. Asher had no personal items in DC, certainly not a picture magnet of his sister and her best friend. They were younger by five years and had spent the past week in Disney World for a wedding reception. The picture on the fridge showed them posing in front of Epcot Center.

His hands shook, and his jaw cemented shut. A harsh breath flared through his nostrils. “Murphy, send the whole goddamn FBI.”

“Care to explain?”

“There’s a recent picture of my sister and her best friend, along with another damn note from Maxwell. Aren’t they cute?”

***

Jenny Chase tugged her carry-on bag out of the overhead compartment. The flight from Florida to DC had been bumpy, and she wanted off the plane. In the seat beside her, Molly was unfazed and casually powering on her phone and listing off where they should grab dinner before they headed home to their apartment in Eastern Market.

As long as Jenny could grab a cocktail, she didn’t care where they ended up. Molly’s phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Then kept going.

“Jeez, popular much?” Jenny watched her best friend’s phone continue to vibrate.

Molly laughed. “Just Ash. I’m sure whatever it is, it’s super important, and I need to know super right away.” She slipped the phone into her purse. “Let’s have pizza delivered instead of going out.”