I awoke from my nap as the train was slowing. I stared out the window, thinking of Harley Rogers. I felt at a loss—no smoking gun. That made me think of Max. I called him.
“To what do I owe this honor,” Max said in his mellifluous bass-baritone.
“How are you?”
“Better now. How is my godson?”
“Growing, well, and happy. Do you have a minute?”
“Where are you? I hear train sounds. Are you on Metro?”
“Amtrak’s Metroliner. We’re pulling into Wilmington.”
Michael tapped my arm. “Baltimore. You slept through Wilmington.”
“I was just corrected. Baltimore. I’ve been on an out-of-town assignment.”
“What time do you get in?”
“Eh, 6:09, then I’m hopping Metro for home. Senator Dalton’s AA, Michael Horne, and I were in New Jersey visiting Rogers Pharmaceuticals, the manufacturer of Tutoxtamen, the cancer drug that the FDA has rejected. I’m an undercover aide to the senator.”
“You’ve been covert before, if I remember.”
“I’d love for this one to prove as fruitful,” I said, remembering again last year’s story. “Can we get together? I need a good speculation session.”
“Why don’t I pick you up in front of the station?”
“You sure? I mean, I’d love to see—”
“My day is over here. I should be there before you arrive. I’ll call if I’m running late.”
“Fine, see you then,” I said, clicking off, and then punching in Jerry’s number. I looked at Michael. “Excuse me again, Michael, I need to call my husband.”
“This is Jerry.”
“Hi there.”
“Hey. Where are you?”
I gave him my location and told him about Max meeting me at the station.
“I can pick up some Chinese food. That’s a sure bet with Max.”
His thoughtfulness gave me a tender feeling. “That’s perfect.”
“I’ll make sure we have some cold ones. Oops, gotta go. Sophie needs me.”
I turned in my seat to Michael. “There’s something I’d like you to do.”
He perked up. “Sure.”
“Your friend at Rogers, can he snoop around . . . look for any unusual goings on?”
“He’s cool. He’ll be glad to help.”
“At no cost to you, I hope,” I said concerned.
“None whatsoever,” Michael said confidently.