Chapter 40
Kate felt as if she’d just been kicked in the gut. She wanted to curl up on the field grass of Inverlochy and die.
Three years ago, and felt like it was yesterday.
Washington, D.C.
Thirteenth and Connecticut Northwest.
Twelve-thirty-four p.m.
One of those perfect early November days in D.C. when the sun shone and the air warmed enough that you couldn’t see your breath despite the snowstorm hammering on Boston and New York.
Eleven steps from the front door of the DGS Delicatessen.
Eleven lousy steps.
Her team reported “clear” inside the deli. Mr. Vice President Elect Earl Bronson had decided a DGS corned beef on rye and a root beer float would be the perfect cure for a victorious election-night hangover.
Nine steps to the deli. She was counting in odd-numbered groupings
