Kit stood rooted to the concrete, listening to the bubbling of the fountain as she watched Warner walk back to her car. She got in and slammed the door behind her. Kit thought the car would pull away. But it didn’t.
Kit scanned the sidewalk. Looking across Pennsylvania Avenue, she saw one of Warner’s minion agents, the tall, rusty-haired one. He was paying a street vendor for a brown bag of something. She watched as he carried it to the corner light and took out his phone.
Kit froze for a moment and then began fishing through her carry-on. She produced the surveillance phone John Barber had given her and turned it on and pointed it at Fitzgerald as she pretended to put it to her face.
“No, honey. I can’t talk now. Seriously, I’m jammed right this second,” said Fitzgerald’s voice suddenly in her ear from where he stood waiting to cross the street.
“But you have to,” said a woman’s voice on the line.
“It’s not happening. I’m right in the middle of all this. I can’t,” Fitzgerald said.
“How about at the airport? When are you leaving?” the woman said.
“In three hours.”
“That’s not acceptable,” the woman said. “That coach might be gone by then. I’m not taking this shit anymore, Patrick. You know how embarrassing it is to watch your oldest son ride the bench game after game?”
“Fine,” Fitzgerald said, annoyed around a mouthful of pretzel. “I’ll try, all right. But if I can’t catch him today, I’ll call him first thing tomorrow from San Fran.”
“Ooh-la-la. San Fran. The way you say it,” Fitzgerald’s wife said sarcastically. “All this jet-setting around with the elite is turning you so cool, Patrick. It really is. Can I have your autograph when you get back from San Fran, darling? After you hand me your dirty underwear.”
Fitzgerald laughed at that.
“Alrighty then. Fun as this is, I have to go now, sweet pea.”
“Wait. Is he still with you? He’s testifying on CSPAN in twenty minutes they said. I just turned it on.”
“No, billionaire boy isn’t with us anymore,” Fitzgerald said. “His security took him a second ago, but we have to pick him up from Capitol Hill in two hours. The witch is excited she’s getting so much time with him on the flight.”
“You need to follow her lead, Patrick. You need to kiss his ass like there’s no tomorrow. I’m telling you, this is the chance of a lifetime. Weber could make us rich by sneezing on you.”
“Yeah, right. When the witch hits the powder room, I’ll just lean over and say, ‘Hey, Ethan, baby. You need me on your team, bro.’ Oh, shit. Gotta go. Broom-Hilda is back in the car. For real. She’s waving at me. I’ll call you tonight when we get in.”
Kit slipped the illegal spy phone back into her carry-on and had her real one out before Fitzgerald made the Rover’s door.
“Kit, hey. What’s the scoop?” Gannon said.
“Mike, listen. I need help.”
“Help?” Gannon said. “What happened? How many of them are there this time?”
“Very funny,” she said. “We got blocked here in DC but I’m heading to the airport now.”
“The airport?”
“Yes. I’m getting the next flight to San Francisco. You need to do the same.”
“Why?”
“Warner is flying there this afternoon with Ethan Weber. Something is up. I can feel it. This isn’t over yet.”