Their lifeline. Gone.
Chapter 7
TULLY TRIED TO PAY attention to the street signs – at least the ones he could make out through the downpour – even though he followed Senator Delanor’s directions. They had gone over two long bridges in blinding rain while the water churned below. Traffic had slowed down to twenty miles per hour. Tully tightfisted the SUV’s steering wheel, fighting against the wind gusts. They were on Scenic Highway now, a long winding two lane that ran parallel to one of the bays.
“This associate,” Tully said, “we couldn’t just call him?” He had to raise his voice over the accelerated squeaks and lash of the windshield wipers. The rain pelted the vehicle’s roof.
“I tried. It went directly to voice mail.”
In the streetlights and headlights Tully could see water rushing
