Maggie dropped Patrick off at the hotel after they had lunch at The Rose and Crown. She had a couple of errands to run before their evening flight to Washington, D.C.

She had typed the addresses into the rental car’s navigation system and let it guide her while her mind raced off in other directions. A.D. Kunze was satisfied to leave some unanswered questions in exchange for the official title he was only supposed to hold as interim. He’d done it before after Oklahoma City. His conscience had stumbled when he confided as much to her, handing off his own debriefing file. So what happened? Maggie wondered if maybe it simply got easier each time you sold a chunk of your soul.

Was he setting up CAP to take the fall from the very beginning? Would Chad Hendricks and Tyler Bennett get blamed for blowing up Mall of America and killing what now amounted to forty-three innocent people? And although there were no cutaways, no scapegoats to blame for Phoenix, Kunze hadn’t stopped local law enforcement from conducting a search for two young white males, possibly college students, who were suspected in stealing the now incinerated Chevy TrailBlazer.

And what could Maggie do? She was officially off the case.

Late last night when sleep wouldn’t come, she had pored over more documents, more files and news articles, Congressional amendments and proposals. She had hoped A.D. Kunze would be willing to hear her out. She hadn’t realized he had already made up his own mind.

After leaving the FBI building, she’d made several phone calls going only on hunches, calling in a favor and counting on a promise. Not much, certainly not enough to bet an entire career on.

She found herself back downtown, back on Washington Avenue, less than four blocks away from the FBI building.

Charlie Wurth was waiting for her in the lobby.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked her as they went through the security checkpoint.

“Absolutely. But I’ll understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

“Au contraire, cheri. I figure I owe you one. Besides, I got my job by being a rabble-rouser. But do you suppose our friend may have changed his mind?”

“He said he’d meet us here.” Even as she said it Maggie wasn’t sure it was a promise that would be kept.

They took the elevator and rode in silence. Now with their coats over their arms, Maggie noticed that Wurth had changed from this morning into a steel-blue suit with a lemon-yellow shirt and orange necktie. It made her navy blue suit look bland and official. Shoulder to shoulder, they marched down the hallway to the set of office suites at the end.

“Hello. Do you have an appointment today?” a young woman asked as they walked around the huge reception desk, ignoring her and going directly to the open doorway behind the desk.

“Excuse me,” she said, trying to stop them.

“It’s okay,” Senator Foster said from inside the office.

“Come on in, Deputy Director Wurth, Agent O’Dell.” He stood up behind his marble-topped desk and waved them in. “So glad to see you’re back safe and sound.”

“Actually we have some questions to ask you.” Wurth was cool and calm. “About the bill you’re cosponsoring among other things.”

During Maggie’s frenetic search through Internet documents she discovered that Senator Foster was one of the cosponsors of a Homeland Security bill with a hefty price tag, due to Congress before the holidays. The same bill Kunze had mentioned that would elevate security requirements in airports, shopping complexes and sports stadiums. The one Nick had said would send federal funds to Phoenix.

“Certainly,” Senator Foster said. His fingers smoothed his silver hair while Maggie looked for any sign of him being nervous or anxious. He had the role of distinguished down pat.

Wurth nodded to Maggie, his own sign for her to take the reins.

“We know you helped him get away.”

“Excuse me?” There was maybe a flash of surprise. Nothing more.

“The Project Manager. You had a government-issued car pick him up. Tough to trace. A lot of security codes in place but we were able to do it.”

He was shaking his head, a grin—or maybe a grimace—on his face.

“That’s ridiculous. I had my government-issued jet fly you to Phoenix, but I don’t know anything about a car. Do your superior officers know you two are here making these wild accusations?”

“We know about your secret organization.” Wurth took his turn. “We’re getting a list of all the businessmen and politicians.”

“This is absurd. I’ll have you both shoving paperwork next week. I’m calling security.”

Senator Foster reached for his phone but stopped. His eyes widened as he stared between their shoulders. Maggie glanced back to see Henry Lee in the doorway.

He had shown up, after all. Kept his promise.

“It’s over, Allan,” he said. “It’s time to come clean.”