“I don’t believe in draws.” Jesse made himself sound almost bored. “I believe in winning. You should know that, unless you haven’t found out everything about me, after all.”

For a split second, Cal seemed ready to wilt, but then his experience and discipline clicked into gear, and he straightened, squaring his shoulders. “I wish I didn’t know anything about you. I want you out of my life. That’s all.” Cal kept his voice low, but he was visibly shaken, tense. “I don’t even want to know everything about you. Just drop out of Washington and go live your damn life. I’ll get you the money – trust me. I have no reason not to get it to you.”

“It doesn’t work that way. I don’t like to be leveraged.”

“You have a vivid imagination,” Cal said. “It’s one of the reasons you’re good at what you do. Me? I’d never imagine that some of the people I’ve helped you ‘leverage’ over the past few months would be capable of doing the things they’ve done.” Cal maintained his outward self-control. “You give me more credit than I deserve.”

Jesse didn’t let himself be distracted. “I want whatever evidence you have on me. Computer files, hard copies of files, accounts, recordings, videotapes. Whatever it is, I want it. All of it.”

A fat old man was making his way up the hall with a push broom. Cal stepped back from the window, but said nothing. He was overestimating his power. If he believed that Jesse was the man who’d attacked Mackenzie and the hiker last week, the nonfatal outcome worked in his favor. Cal would mistake it for weakness and inefficiency.

Jesse went on calmly. “And I want my money. Now. Not later.”

A muscle worked in Cal’s jaw. “How many times do I have to say it? You’ll get your damn money once you’re out of my face. When I’m out of any danger that this entire mess is going to backfire on me. I don’t want your million dollars – it’s not worth it to me to risk not holding up my end.”

Probably true, but Jesse was unmoved.

“If Harris decides to come out of hiding and talk to the feds -”

“I’m not worried about Harris,” Jesse said.

“Fraud, bribery, blackmail, extortion, conspiracy. Those aren’t light charges. Be smart. Get out of Washington now while you can. I’ve profited from other people’s sins. I’m not even disgusted with myself. Some of the dirty politicians, bureaucrats and lobbyists you and I squeezed saw themselves in a new light and stopped what they were doing. Some of them have reformed out of fear. They’re looking over their shoulders, scared of what comes next – who else might know their secrets?”

Jesse almost laughed. “Oh, so noble, Cal. You helped me because you had no choice. I had your balls in a vise.”

Sweat erupted on Cal’s brow, and he stank of it. “And so we blackmail each other. What I have on you is more damaging than what you have on me. So I had an affair while Bernadette and I were technically still married. Who’s going to care now that we’re divorced? Even she wouldn’t.”

“You had your affair at her house in New Hampshire.”

“It’s not anything I’m proud of, and I don’t want it to get out – but it’s nothing compared to the material I have on you. If the feds had to choose between nailing your ass and nailing mine, they’d choose yours.”

Jesse reached into his inner jacket pocket and withdrew a color printout of a digital photograph. “Take a close look. You’ll notice that’s you with the hairy legs and the saggy ass.”

Cal frowned, as if confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You think I only know about the brunette you humped in New Hampshire back in June. Take a close look, Cal. That’s not your brunette. That’s your blonde, a high-level congressional aide who had a weekend of wild sex with you at the summer home of a respected federal judge. But you tell me. What do you think?”

Cal crumpled up the picture, sweat pouring down his temples. “You’re disgusting.”

“You can see her face. You recognize her, don’t you? I believe we blackmailed her boss.”

“Not we – you.”

“Oh, you helped. You and Harris got me the information, the access. Rich SOB he is, too. You’d think you’d have stayed away from New Hampshire after I already caught you with the brunette.”

Cal didn’t say anything, just looked sick.

“What was the blonde doing – having sex with you in exchange for you keeping quiet about her? Or did she give you the information about her boss in the first place?”

“Stop -”

“She came to a bad end about two weeks ago. I guess you know that.”

“Jesse, don’t. She overdosed on pain pills. She had a problem back. Her death was an accident.”

“There are whispers it was suicide, because she was upset about a man.”

Cal took a sharp breath. “You’re disgusting!”

“I’m disgusting? I like that.” Jesse yawned. The Washington heat made him sleepy. If only he could have stayed in the mountains longer. “The police are still investigating the accident.”

“How many pictures do you have?” Cal asked.

“Pictures and a recording. If I leave them with the feds, they’ll dig deeper, and they’ll hang you high. Even if they can’t prove you were blackmailing her.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Look at our friend J. Harris Mayer. He was never prosecuted. You’ll be ruined, Cal. Judge Peacham will be ruined, too. Even if people believe she wasn’t involved in your treachery, they’ll wonder how it could happen under her nose.”

“Bernadette doesn’t deserve that. We were separated -”

“That’ll matter? You’ll go down and your ex-wife will go down. And your girlfriends.” Jesse paused deliberately, for effect. “The media will trot them out one by one.”

More than angry, Cal looked tortured, but he straightened, sniffed like the high-powered lawyer he was. “Threatening me doesn’t change anything.”

“I’m not bluffing,” Jesse said.

“Drag me down and I drag you down. That’s the way it is.”

“Double-crossing me wasn’t a smart move.”

“Ditto. I won’t go to the feds with what I have on you. You won’t go to the feds with what you have on me. You’ve done worse, Jesse. You attacked a federal agent.”

“Good night, Cal. I’ll be in touch.” He tapped his pictures. “Just wanted you to know the score.”

Cal opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead marched down the hall, the crumpled photo of his blond lover in bed with him still in his hand.

Jesse waited in the dim light until Cal disappeared. The janitor pushed his broom toward the supply closet, and Jesse smiled at him, then went on his way, back to the parking lot, the heat, the smells of the city. His BMW was still faintly cool. He sat behind the wheel, remembering the night he’d taken the picture of Cal Benton and the very attractive, very corrupt aide. It probably hadn’t occurred to Cal that anyone would ever catch him in bed with her – that it was that big a deal, a little sex in exchange for him doing good by her. Sneak up to his soon-to-be-ex-wife’s place in the country, and not worry about the prying gossips in Washington.

Even if he couldn’t be tied to the blond aide’s death or blackmail, the scandal would sink Cal Benton, and it would sink Bernadette Peacham.

The man was a fool, but Jesse hated seeing the tight control he’d once had over their operation unravel.

The car cooled to a temperature more to his liking. He glanced in his rearview mirror and thought of Mackenzie Stewart in her pink swimsuit. The curve of her breasts, the shape of her legs. Would he have killed her last Friday?

Oh, yes.

Jesse glanced at his watch. Ten o’clock. Plenty of time, he decided, for a quick trip out to Arlington. Mackenzie was back in town. He wondered if she’d gone to bed yet, or if she’d be up, staring at his sketch and trying to figure out where she’d seen him before.