SIXTY-ONE

“Well, that didn’t take long, Mary Anne.”

Steve Batcholder grinned as he walked over to Sung Kim’s van, bent down so his face was looking directly into the window at her. “An awful lot of hassle,” he added, “for such a short stay.”

“You’re telling me.” Her smile matched his inch for inch. “But you know how the man is. He wants what he wants … and he wants it now.”

“Tell me about it.” Steve looked like he wanted to say more, but Sung Kim cut him short. “Sorry to rush off,” she said, “but I’ve got another delivery halfway to Washington. Gotta keep moving.”

He stepped back and touched his fingers to his forehead in a friendly salute. “Off with you, then.” He grinned. “When will I see you again?”

“Soon,” she said, then glanced back toward the mansion. “The way he is, could be tomorrow.”

She reached for the window button and the window slid up. He gave a little wave, she waved back, then pulled past the gate, past the Secret Service people and the Japanese bodyguards who were still stopping vehicles on the road. In her rearview mirror, she saw Steve smiling as she accelerated away from the farm.

He was a nice guy, Sung Kim told herself. A nothing security guard who went out of his way to make her feel welcome. Steve would be the one who beat himself up the worst when he found out how wrong he’d been.