CHAPTER 8
RACING DOWN Wisconsin Avenue was miraculously easy without heavy daytime traffic. Passing Key Bridge into Virginia, the alcohol made Caroline comfortable enough to unbuckle her seat belt. Coasting down George Washington Memorial Parkway, the warm wind tangled strands of her hair, mirroring the airplane lights above her, banking towards National on the Potomac. Not once did she look in the rearview mirror to study her face.
She did not dare.
It was close to midnight. Special agent Smith had returned her call within minutes. She had suggested Carter’s, his after-work hangout. There was that natural fragrance that appealed to lovers in the streets. Putting up the top, she found a parking space off Duke Street. The Old Town cobblestones felt reassuring under her sneakers, worn to
