“Suddenly there are a whole lot of very nervous people at the top of the Justice Department who insist on signing off on everything. They want us to cross every t and dot every i. They want everything completely nailed down before they’ll go ahead with such a high-profile corruption sweep. Something like this will destroy careers and reputations and, you know, shake the faith of the country in our elected officials.”
“Sure wouldn’t want to do that,” I said dryly.
“The Criminal Division is insisting on all sorts of bank records from around the world, including from offshore banks that won’t cooperate in a hundred years.”
“In other words, nothing’s going to happen.”
She was silent. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”
“You don’t find this frustrating?”
“I just keep my head down and do the best job I can.”
“So who are you about to arrest?”
“General Mark Hood.”
I gave her a sideways glance, then looked back at the road. “On what grounds?”
“Embezzlement, fraud … It’s a long charge sheet. He was the one who supervised the illegal transfer of covert funds out of the Pentagon’s black budget.”
I nodded. “I figured as much.”
“You were on to him, weren’t you? Before he fired you?”
“I guess so. Though I didn’t know it at the time.”
For several miles neither of us spoke.
Maybe, I thought, the only true justice was karma.
Take Taylor Armstrong. She claimed that when Mauricio Perreira pressured her into setting him up with her BFF, Alexa, she really had no idea what was going to happen. I believed her. Not that it made her any less narcissistic, sleazy, and underhanded.
Shortly after we last talked, Taylor was pulled out of school and sent to a place in western Massachusetts that specialized in “novel treatments” for students with severe behavioral problems, controversial for its use of electric shock as an “aversive.” It made the Marston-Lee Academy look like the Canyon Ranch Spa.
The place also required weekly counseling sessions with parents, which wasn’t going to be a problem, since her father, Senator Armstrong, had announced he was leaving public service in order to spend more time with his family.
I saw the exit sign and hit the turn signal.
“Where are we going?”
“Ever seen the Exeter campus?”
“No. Why would I…” Then, realizing, she said, “You think she’s ready to see you?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
* * *
DIANA WAITED for me in the car. She thought it was best for me to have some time alone with Alexa.
The girls’ field hockey team was practicing on the dazzling green artificial turf field in the football stadium at the far end of the campus. I knew nothing about field hockey, but it looked like a scrimmage. It was a cluttery game, hard to understand at first. The whistle was constantly sounding. A few of the girls really stood out, one in particular, and when she turned I saw it was Alexa.
She was wearing a headband, her hair tied back. Her arms were tan and muscular, her legs long and lean.
Her blue mouth guard gave her a fierce appearance, but she looked healthy and happy.
The coach blew her whistle and shouted, “Let’s get some water,” and the girls all popped out their mouth guards: a precise, automatic gesture. Some tucked the mouthpieces under the tops of their sports bras; some slipped them into their shin guards. They shouted and talked loudly and squealed as they straggled toward the drinking fountain. A couple of them hugged Alexa—I’d forgotten how much more affectionate girls are than guys at that age—and laughed about something.
Then she turned, as if she’d sensed my presence, and caught my eye. She spoke quickly to one of her teammates and approached reluctantly.
“Hey, Nick.”
“You’re really good, you know that?”
“I’m okay. I like it. That’s the main thing.”
“You play hard. You’re tough. Fearless, even.”
She gave a quick, nervous laugh. “Gift of fear, right?”
“Right. So I just wanted to say hi and make sure everything’s okay.”
“Oh, um, okay, thanks. Yeah, everything’s cool. It’s good. I’m…” She looked longingly over at her teammates. “It’s kinda not the best time, is that … that okay?”
“No problem.”
“I mean, like, you didn’t drive all the way up here just to see me or anything, right? Like, I hope not.”
“Not at all. I was in the area.”
“Business or something?”
“Yeah.”
“So, yeah. Um…” She gave me a little wave. “I gotta go. Thanks for coming by. Nice to see you.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You too.”
I understood: Just seeing me brought on all kinds of dark