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it’s been several years since I worked for Senator Hartman. I’m afraid what political expertise I once had is woefully out of date.”
    Instead of looking dismayed, Brewster seemed amused by my comment. He glanced to Karen and grinned. “Is she always this self-effacing?”
    Karen eyed me sternly like a big sister. “Peter’s got your file, Molly, so you can lose that modest routine right now. He knows where you’ve worked and what you’ve done. Now, I’ll leave you two to talk business. I need to return to the office before Jed starts screaming.”
    Karen’s boss, Jed Molinoff. Congressman Jackson’s chief of staff. A hyper, Type A, overachiever, according to Karen. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken time off to bring me here, Karen,” I said, feeling guilty. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
    Karen glanced down. “Don’t worry about it, Molly. Jed’s been on my case all week, so a little more irritation won’t matter.”
    â€œTell him I asked you to bring Ms. Malone by at the senator’s request,” Brewster said with a grin. “Jed’s been sucking up to us ever since the senator came to town. That’ll keep him quiet.”
    Karen’s smile returned. “Peter, you are diabolical. See you later,” she said, heading for the door.
    â€œLater, Karen,” Brewster called after her.
    Watching her leave, I tried to get my head around what Karen said a moment ago. I had a file?
    â€œCome into the library and relax, Ms. Malone. I use it as my office when away from the hill.”
    He gestured me inside the dark-paneled room, rich woods gleaming in furniture and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. I could smell the lemon oil. The entire library was straight out of a Dickens novel. I chose a burgundy velvet armchair while Brewster settled in comfortably behind the polished walnut desk.
    Unable to restrain my curiosity, I had to pry. “You have a file on me, Mr. Brewster?”
    He grinned boyishly over the open folder. “Everyone has a file, Ms. Malone. And please call me Peter.” He lifted the folder. “Thanks to Google, we can run, but we can’t hide. May I call you Molly?”
    I nodded, still processing. “That’s seriously scary.”
    â€œIsn’t it, though?” He tossed the file on the desk. “You’re welcome to take a look if you like.”
    I shook my head. “Not on an empty stomach.” I knew what was there. I didn’t need to see blurry copies of newspaper headlines again. Those black-and-white images were already burned into my brain.
    Brewster leaned back into the leather chair. “You surprise me. Most people would grab that folder.”
    â€œI already know what’s there. I’ve had my fifteen minutes of fame, and then some. I have no need to relive those days.”
    He studied me, his boyish smile faded. “Karen says you blamed Washington for your husband’s suicide. Is that why you haven’t been back all these years?”
    Boy, Karen really did tell this guy everything. I’d have to speak with her. “Actually, I do return to the area. I just fly into Dulles. After all, my elderly mother lives in a retirement home in Northern Virginia, and I have other family here in addition to Karen.” I deliberately dodged the rest of his question. “Actually, yesterday was the first time I’ve flown into National in over twenty years.”
    He smiled at me. “How was it?”
    â€œWrenching. And heartbreakingly beautiful.”
    â€œYou still blame Washington for what happened? That’s a long time to hold a grudge, Molly.”
    Boy, this guy was like a laser, and I was clearly the target. I could feel the red dot warming my forehead. Sensing that subtle subterfuge and evasion wouldn’t work with Brewster, I decided on total honesty. What the hell? I didn’t want this job anyway. I