My eyebrow rose to match his. “Sir?”
He was regarding me steadily, but I sat in silence, and waited. “He sends his best regards.”
I still said nothing. The senator wouldn’t have called just to have The Boss pass on good wishes.
Mr. Wallace beat out an irritated tattoo on his desk, then set aside the desire to know exactly why a United States senator would send me his regards—I hoped permanently, but doubted it—and went on to the matter at hand. “It seems the problem in Boston is more insidious than we were led to believe. There is someone here in DC who is behind the whole thing.”
I felt a sinking sensation in my gut although I made sure to keep my expression merely alert. “CIA, sir?”
He shook his head. “No, this one is a freelance.” I let out a silent breath. “I have an agent looking
