Which meant he could (probably) let other people know where he was. He picked up the phone and called home. It was getting on toward half past six on the West Coast. Anna ought to be back from work.

“Hello?” she answered after the fourth ring. Chances were, that meant he’d caught her either fixing her dinner or eating it.

“Hi, babe. It’s me.”

“Jerry? Oh, my God! Where are you? How are you? What have you been doing? How are Bruce and Barbara? Oh, my God! Are you okay?” Questions poured out of her, as well they might. She even remembered his cousins’ names.

“Honey, I’m in Washington,” he said.

“I know that. Tacoma, right?” She sounded impatient.

“No, not that Washington. Washington, DC.”

“Washington, DC? What the hell are you doing there?” Anna paused for a moment. Then she said, “Oh, my God!” one more time, now on an entirely different note. “It’s that stupid fucking ship you were on, the one that went after Russian submarines. Is the CIA after you? Did they kidnap you or something?”

She might be melodramatic, but she was a long way from dumb. “It has to do with the CIA, yeah, but they’re not after me anymore, not after I got here and did what I had to do.”

“Anymore? What were you doing? Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?” Anna demanded. Those were all reasonable questions, too.

Jerry answered the last one first: “I didn’t tell you anything because the less you knew, the safer you were. I was in a bad spot. I didn’t want you there, too. I’m still not gonna tell you what it was all about over the phone. I figure the CIA’s been listening to me ever since I got back to the mainland. To you, too.”

“That’s illegal!” She sounded furious.

He nodded, though she couldn’t see him. “It sure is. They do it anyway. They do all kinds of shit that’s illegal.” He almost told her about what had happened to Steve Dole. At the last second, he held back. It would only alarm her and make her angrier. And he wasn’t in danger of getting bumped off anymore, not if he could rely on Henry Kissinger’s word.

How’s that working out for South Vietnam? he asked himself. Himself loudly told him to shut the hell up.

“When are you coming home?” Anna asked.

“I don’t know yet. Stuff here isn’t finished. And I drove, so it’ll take a little while.”

“What did you do for money? Do we have any left?”