Leon wouldn’t say more until they were back in Evan’s car, parked at the curb down the block, with the windows rolled up, air on high, and the radio playing country-and-western full blast. Then he confessed: “Surely I don’t have to tell you what a G-man looks like. Seriously, it’s an hour later in DC, so in the time between the clothing change and the haircut, I’ve been on the phone.”
Stunned, Evan asked, “So you’re — what? — FBI?”
“Suffice it to say, I didn’t exactly retire. And from which agency I’m not at liberty to disclose just now. Been on leave, more like. In point of fact, between you and me, they wanted me to see a shrink. You see, I got pretty upset the way Naomi laid down her life for her country. Or was it for Israel? Or for the Saudis? Or the military-industrial complex? Wha
