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approached them, extending her hand toward Olol.
    Adeogo’s smile instantly vanished.
    â€œI’m sure Rudy hasn’t told you about me,” she said. “I’m Mary Margaret Delaney.”
    â€œI’m the congressman’s press secretary,” Olol said, shaking Delaney’s hand.
    â€œYou mean you’re the U.S. representative’s media contact,” Delaney said, correcting her. “One of the first lessons I taught your boss was not to use the word ‘congressman’ since it’s sexist and ‘press secretary’ is outdated because most of us now get our news off the Internet.”
    â€œMs. Delaney,” Adeogo said, “likes to tell others how they should think and what they should say. One of them was Governor Coldridge.”
    â€œYou helped run his presidential campaign, didn’t you?” Olol said.
    â€œYes and your boss promised to support us, but—”
    â€œLet’s go,” Adeogo interrupted. “Ms. Delaney and I are not friends.”
    â€œNot friends?” Delaney replied mockingly, touching her right hand to her heart as if she’d been mortally wounded. Looking directly at Olol, she said, “I keep my promises. I don’t run scared and stick a knife in someone’s back at the first sign of trouble.” Shifting her glance to Adeogo, she continued, “You might want to send your ‘press secretary’ away so we can talk privately for a moment.”
    â€œPerhaps I should stay,” Olol volunteered.
    â€œRudy,” Delaney replied sternly, “it’s about our mutual acquaintance Decker Lake.”
    Adeogo tried not to react at the mention of Lake’s name, but Delaney was studying his eyes, and she saw what she suspected was fear.
    â€œWhy don’t you give us a moment, Fatima?” he said.
    Delaney waited while Olol stepped several feet away from them. “Have you bedded her yet?” she asked.
    Adeogo snapped, “What do you want?”
    â€œYou bedded me. The last time we spoke was at National Airport. You were scampering home to your little Somali American wife after spending several sweaty nights between the sheets with me.”
    â€œI have nothing to say to you.” He started to walk away.
    â€œDecker Lake.”
    He stopped.
    â€œYou were on our side,” she continued, “until he got to you. He found something in your past—something you wanted kept secret—something more important than—”
    â€œWhat you were using to blackmail me,” he said, struggling to control his anger. “You seduced me and then you threatened to tell my wife about us if I didn’t help your campaign.”
    â€œOnly someone who has a secret to hide can be blackmailed, and apparently you had more than one. Decker Lake found a bigger chit than your cheating. He’s dead, but that doesn’t mean your secret died with him.”
    She’d continued to watch his eyes and now she was certain that it was fear that she was seeing. “You’re an easy read, Rudy. There is something you are still hiding. I’ve come to tell you that whatever secret Decker Lake learned, I’m going to find it, and I’m going to use it to destroy you.” Delaney spun around, waved pleasantly at Olol, who was watching them, and marched away.

CHAPTER FIVE
    The White House
    1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
    Washington, D.C.
    M adam President, thank you for meeting with me,” Omar Nader said appreciatively between sips of coffee. The handsome, fifty-something Saudi Arabian was seated on one of two mustard corduroy sofas in the Oval Office. President Sally Allworth and White House Chief of Staff Mallory Harper were on another couch directly across from their guest.
    â€œMy administration is always happy to hear your organization’s thoughts,” President Allworth replied. She was referring to the Organization of Islamic Nations or OIN, and Nader was