Her cell phone chose that moment to demand
attention.
“Saved by The Boulevard of Broken
Dreams,” he said, referring to the Green Day song she used as
her ring tone. “What a sweet irony.”
Ilene nodded as she answered.
“Ilene?” The voice on the other end of the
line was a man’s and vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it
until he identified himself. “Sam Gantry. I got a message saying
you’d learned what I wanted to know but insisted on telling it only
to me.” The head of the Diamond Council attempted to conceal the
eagerness in his tone under the politician’s habitual ingratiating,
calm friendliness. “Smart move.”
“Not exactly,” she told him. “I’ve got what
you wanted—and something else you need to know, but I need some
information from you first. I need some help making s
