“There he is! Peter, how long has it been?”
“Almost a year, Congressman.”
“Damn right. Way too long. I miss you! Phone calls aren’t the same, you know. I’m in town all week. We need to squeeze in eighteen and have dinner at the Kitch.”
“I’d like that. Louise will set it up.”
“So what’s the emergency?” Card asked. “What couldn’t wait?”
Peter waved his old friend toward his office. “Let’s talk in here. One-on-one today if you don’t mind. No aides.”
“Of course.” Card added with a wink, “Mysterious.”
The two of them went inside. Peter closed the door behind him, shooting a glance at Louise that meant there should be no interruptions. Card saw the brandy on the walnut conference table and didn’t ask if it was for him; he picked it up and finished half with a single swallow. He went to the window and shook his head at the view over the lake and the lift bridge.
“Shit, Peter, you know how to live. Best view in the city up here. I’d never get anything done.”
“It’s not Capitol Hill,” Peter replied diplomatically.
Card dismissed the comparison with a wave of his hand. “Ah, until you’re in the White House, the view is the same. No, I’d rather be here than in Rayburn, I’ll tell you that.”
“Washington has other benefits. Another drink?”
“Definitely.”
Peter retrieved the bottle of Courvoisier and topped off the Congressman’s snifter. Card took another oversized swallow.
Devin Card was a big man in every way, tall and broad-shouldered, with a booming voice and a habit of gesticulating when he talked, as if every conversation were part of a campaign rally. He and Peter were the same age, but Card’s hair was wavy and blond without a single gray strand anywhere. Peter was handsome in a refined, rich man’s way, but Card was the college quarterback, chiseled and unforgettable, with a boyish smile and Paul Newman eyes. He had charisma. People were drawn to him as soon as he entered a room.
The two of them went back many years. They’d both grown up in Duluth, but in very different neighborhoods, Peter among the mansions along Congdon Parkway, Devin on the grittier streets of West Duluth. They hadn’t met until they became freshman roommates at Minnesota’s elite liberal arts school, Carleton College. The rich kid and the jock found that they clicked together. Card melded effortlessly into Peter’s moneyed circle, and the two young men became a fixture at the trendiest parties in Minneapolis and Duluth. Throughout college and then law school at the University of Minnesota, they were inseparable.
Peter knew from his student days that he would open his own law firm. Card knew that he was destined for politics. It was the perfect strategic partnership, and Peter had been the silent navigator behind Card’s steady rise for the past quarter-century, first as state auditor, then Attorney General, then US Representative.
In November, he’d add US Senator to his resume. And from there? There were no limits.
Unless it all came crashing down.
“Everything’s set for the town hall at the DECC on Thursday,” Card announced, wandering over to the large conference table and lowering his big frame into one of the leather chairs. “Polls are looking solid, too. We’ve been holding steady at four up for the past month.”
Peter took a seat opposite Card. “I know. That’s good news.”
Card’s bushy eyebrows did a little dance. “Maybe so, Peter, but you don’t look like a man who’s swayed by good news. Today you look like a lawyer. What’s going on?”
“You’re about to get hit,” Peter replied.
“By what?”
“I have a police source who tells me that a dead body has been found. It hasn’t broken in the media yet, but it will soon. And when it does, you’ll be getting questions.”
“A body?” Card asked, looking puzzled. “Who is it?”
“Positive identification will probably take a day or so, but the suspicion among the police is that it’s Ned Baer.”
Card tapped a finger against his lips as he processed the information. Then he said, “Drowned? Was he drowned? I remember everybody thought he went into the Deeps.”
“No. If it really is Baer, he was murdered. Shot in the head.”
Card closed his eyes. “Shit.”
“Needless to say, this is going to unleash a lot of crazy conspiracy theories. Everybody knows Baer was looking into the allegations against you when he disappeared. This is going to bring it all back.”
Card finished his brandy and shoved his big body out of the chair again. He paced like a tiger. “No way the timing is coincidental. In the middle of the campaign? The GOP is orchestrating this.”
“Normally I’d agree with you, but it sounds like the circumstances behind this coming to light are pretty random. Some doc on the Point confessed on his death bed to burying the body. Police dug it up earlier today.”
“Why are they so sure it’s Baer?”
“I gather this doctor said he found the body at the Deeps. That narrows it down, in terms of missing persons. There’s more, but the cops are keeping the details close. Nobody’s saying much.”
“Did this doctor kill him?”
“No, it’s not that neat and easy. Anyway, the timing of this discovery couldn’t be worse.”
“No shit. Who’s investigating? Stride?”
“Actually, no. Word is, Stride has recused himself from the case, which I don’t understand. His number two, Maggie Bei, is leading the investigation, but I hear the chief may bring in an outsider.”
“Is there still bad blood between you and Stride?” Card asked.
“We’re not exactly on good terms, but I’m hoping that time heals all wounds. His wife, Serena, did some work for me a few years ago. Stride was actually an ally for us on the Ned Baer case. When Baer disappeared, there was all sorts of online shit about you and me taking out a hit on him. Stride was the one who shut that down. He said the only evidence they had pointed to Baer taking a dive in the Deeps.”
“Except now it looks like Baer really did get hit,” Card said.
“Apparently.”
“And Stride is off the case?”
“Officially, yes. I’ve got a call in to the chief to learn more.”
Card shook his head. “I really thought we’d put all of this in the past.”
“Nothing is ever past in politics,” Peter replied.
The Congressman folded his arms over his chest. “Ned Baer murdered. I’d like to say I’m sorry, but the man was a prick. Whoever put a bullet in his head was doing a public service.”
“I know.”
Card stared down at Peter with his laser-like blue eyes. “Is there anything you and I need to talk about?”
“I think the less either of us says about this, the better.”
“I agree,” Card replied. He sat down again and picked up his empty glass. “Got any more of that brandy?”
“Of course.”
“Think I should cancel the town hall?” Card asked.
Peter waited to answer while he went to his desk to get the bottle. He filled both of their glasses. “No. Doing that will make it look like you have something to hide. But you need to be prepared for uncomfortable questions.”
“Yeah.” Card stared into the amber liquid as if he were reading tea leaves. “It’s not going to end with Baer, is it?”
“No.”
“All of the other shit is coming back, too.”
“Definitely.”
Card exhaled in disgust. “An anonymous accusation. Anonymous. From almost thirty years ago. And that could be what costs me the election.”
“It didn’t cost you the House election seven years ago. If we handle it right, it won’t now.”