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“Yes.”
“One of the scarves is present.”
All the passion in my blood is instantly replaced with a cunning rage designed for battlefields.
“Copy. Track him. Anywhere near us?”
“No. But he’s shaking hands with the senator.”
“Fuck.
“Who is it?”
“Blaine Maisri. From what I overheard, he’s here to congratulate the senator on his presidential run. They’re talking about him making a run for Senator Bosworth’s old House seat. Something about Nolan Corning helping with the campaign?”
“Copy.” Nolan Corning? That’s Harry’s biggest rival in the party. It’s widely believed Corning’s going to run in the primary, too, against Harry. Why would Corning back Blaine of all people for Harry’s old House seat?
I can’t focus on the intrigue right now.
The SUV is tiny. If Lindsay has good ears, she heard most of that. Knows that Blaine is right here.
I look at her.
She meets me with eyes the size of saucers. “Blaine,” she whispers, her voice filled with terror.
“Track him. I’ll get Lindsay out of here.”
“Will do.”
“We need to trade places,” I snap at Lindsay. She starts to open the door. I reach across her and grab her hand.
“Not like that, Lindsay. Cross over me.”
“What?”
“I don’t want you getting out of the car.”
“Who is ‘scarf’?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“It’s a code name.”
“Yes.”
She frowns, then her entire face morphs into a mask of rage. “You call them all ‘scarf’? Seriously? Whose sick idea was that for a code name?”
I ignore that. She doesn’t need to know that her own mother came up with the name.
“Sir.” It’s Gentian. “Senator Bosworth wants you back in here.”
“He what?”
“Wants you back in here. Now. He’s talking with the scarf.”
“Is he in danger?”
“No, sir.”
