Jennifer went pale. “Killed?”
Max nodded somberly.
“You knew him?” Renee said.
“No,” she said, her face twitching. “I’m sorry, but what is this list you’re referring to?”
“What about Ronald Dicks? You knew him.”
She looked down at the floor. “Yes. I knew Ron. I was very sad to read about what happened.”
“They’re calling that a homicide.”
“I know.”
“When was the last time you spoke to Ron?”
“Years ago. We’ve lost touch. I worked with him. That was all.”
“What are you doing up here in Wisconsin, Miss Upton?”
“I… I came to see Herb.”
Renee said, “Becker? You came to see the senator?”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
She looked away. “It’s somewhat embarrassing. A woman my age running around like this, trying to stay out of the limelight just to see a man.”
Max said, “It was a social call?”
Upton said, “Senator Becker is a very high-profile individual, obviously. And unfortunately, based on our past… and the feelings of certain members of his family… we need to be discreet about our relationship.”
“So you and Becker are with each other? In an ongoing relationship?” Renee asked, as diplomatically as she could manage.
Annoyance flashed on Upton’s face. “Yes, darling.”
Max said, “Miss Upton, I hope you don’t mind if I pry, but it may be relevant… why do you feel the need to keep the low profile about the relationship? What do you mean about the family members? Do they not approve?”
Upton’s voice grew ugly. “It’s mostly just his damned daughter, Karen. She has too much influence with him. Always has. When Herb’s wife found out about our little fling, she divorced him in no time. He wanted to be with me. At least the wife was reasonable. She wasn’t going to make a big fuss about it and ruin his name. The senator’s daughter, on the other hand—”
“Karen Becker?”
Upton nodded. “She was the one who caught us together in the first place. Our relationship had been easier to keep under wraps when we were traveling internationally, but our travel had slowed down. It was an election year, of course, and Becker was running a mere two points ahead. This was back before he switched parties. The girl said the only way she wouldn’t tell the press about the affair was if I agreed to leave his staff. I mean, the nerve of that little brat. Their marriage was in shambles anyway. What the hell did it matter to her?”
Max said, “When was all this?”
“That was a long time ago. It was when I was on his staff, so… 2006? Yes, that was it.”
“So you are telling me that you’re here in Wisconsin to see Senator Becker socially. And that you’re keeping a low profile because Karen Becker still doesn’t approve?”
Max could see Jennifer Upton’s mind racing, trying to work out how to answer the question. Max knew this story was all bullshit, of course. If she was just hiding from the daughter, she wouldn’t have kept her phone switched off for hours at a time. No one does that. Not unless they’re worried about someone tracking their movements through their phone.
“Karen Becker is a very opinionated woman. And Herb wishes to keep his family life and his social life separate. There’s nothing wrong with what we are doing.” Another flare-up in her tone.
The conversation went on for another ninety minutes. Jennifer Upton continued to be evasive. She denied trying to avoid detection by turning her phone off. “Sometimes you just need to disconnect.” She also brushed off any meaning behind making her hotel reservation with a seldom-used account, under a fake name. “I told you, I like my privacy.”
Upton claimed to have no idea how Ian Williams was connected to Senator Becker, or if he even was. She said she’d never met anyone from Pakistan and laughed nervously when Max asked about foreign intelligence services. “What, now you think I’m a spy? I don’t think so.”
Eventually, Max suggested they take a break for the evening. It was getting dark, and they were getting nowhere with Upton. Max was ready to try more aggressive tactics, but first he wanted to check in with Wilkes.
Jennifer Upton was given one of the bedrooms for the evening, and Mike the CIA operative was joined by his partner, who had brought them all food.
On the ride back to the Oshkosh campground, Trent and Renee both verbalized Max’s feelings.
“She’s full of it,” said Renee.
“Agreed,” said Max.
“What are you going to do?” asked Trent.
“She was surprised that I knew the name Ian Williams. And she was pretty disturbed at the death of Joseph Dahlman. Rightfully distressed at the mention of Ron Dicks. I don’t know what worries her more — that we’ll figure out what she’s really up to, or that someone might be trying to kill her. Either way, let’s let her stew for the evening.”
Chapter 23
The next morning, Max and Renee crawled out of the tent to see Trent doing push-ups in the grass, a steely-eyed determination on his face, his muscles rippling and sweaty, huffs of exertion coming as he continued to pump out perfect-form reps.
“Morning,” he said to them as he switched to sit-ups.
Renee smiled as she tied her sneakers. “We were going to go for a run. You want to come?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
She glanced at Max. Renee was worried about Trent. A veteran of multiple wars who had lost his brother to a drug overdose. He was strong, but she could see that he was struggling with his inner demons.
“You sure?” Max said.
“No, it’s alright. I was up early and ran around the perimeter of the field. Looks like they’re going to have a 5K there on the runway. Would have liked to do that one.”
“Maybe next year. Wilkes sent us a message. He wants us to meet him this morning.”
Renee and Max began their jog, winding through the grass parking lots, campgrounds, and groves of trees surrounding the airfield. Droplets of dew coated the grass. A buzzing flock of ultralight aircraft skimmed the treetops on a massive morning flight, the rising sun painting them with reddish-orange light. It was a peaceful scene, and it felt good to sweat.
The pair ran for forty minutes, stretched, then showered at the campground’s public showers. It felt like a vacation, but Max kept getting reminders that it wasn’t. Everywhere he looked, he saw a potential conspirator staring back at him. A man leaning on his car, talking on a cell phone as he and Renee strode by. A middle-aged Latina woman, walking along the road next to the air show entrance. Everyone looked suspicious, and Max was getting twitchy.
Trent had grabbed a few breakfast sandwiches and handed them out when they arrived back at the tents. Renee was drying her wet hair with a white towel. Max sat on one of the lawn chairs surrounding the ash from last night’s campfire. Renee sat on the chair next to him. She had taken out her computer again and was connecting to her sat link.
Through a mouthful of bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit, Max said, “You’re working now? We’ve only got about fifteen minutes before we’re supposed to meet Wilkes.”
“I just had an idea come to me when we were running. I wanted to check it out really quick.” She hit a key and said, “Bingo.”
“What is it?” Max craned his head around to see her screen.
“Something Upton said to us last night was bothering me. She said that it had been easier for her and Becker to have a relationship when they traveled more. So I wanted to see where they were traveling to.”
“And?”
“Afghanistan.”
Trent looked up.
Max said, “Ian Williams was stationed there with MI6, right? I’d be very interested to know whether the two met. The ISI has a big presence in Afghanistan as well. Good work, Renee. We can grill Upton on this later.”