“Again?” the page moaned. “Haven’t these people ever heard of E-mail?”

Ignoring the complaint, the woman turned back to Viv. “Now what can I help you with?” she asked.

“I work over in the Senate-”

“Clearly,” the woman said.

“Yeah, well… we… uh… we were wondering if you guys keep track of your page deliveries. We have a Senator who got a package last week and swears he gave the page another envelope on the way out – but naturally, since he’s a Senator, he has no idea if the page was House or Senate. We all look alike, y’know.”

The woman smiled at the joke, and Viv breathed a sigh of relief. She was finally in.

“All we keep is the current stuff,” the woman said, motioning to the sign-out sheet. “Everything else goes in the trash.”

“So you don’t have anything before…”

“Today. That’s it. I trash it every night. To be honest, it’s only there to keep track of you guys. If one of you disappears – well, you know what happens when you let seventeen-year-olds run around with a room-full of Congressmen…” Tilting her head back, the woman snorted loudly through her nose.

Viv was dead silent.

“Relax, honey – just some page humor.”

“Yeah,” Viv said, forcing a strained grin. “Listen, uh… can I make some copies of these? At least that way we show him something.”

“Help yourself,” the woman with the frizzy hair said. “Whatever makes your life easy…”

STUCK IN THE STORAGE room and waiting for Viv, I hold the receiver to my ear as I dial the number.

“Congressman Grayson’s office,” a young man with a flat South Dakota accent eventually answers. Gotta give Grayson points for that. Whenever a constituent calls, the receptionist is the first voice they hear. For that reason alone, smart Congressmen make sure their front office people always have the right accent.

Looking past the stack of chairs in the storage room, I grip the receiver and give the receptionist just enough of a pause to make him think I’m busy. “Hi, I’m looking for your Appropriations person,” I finally say. “Somehow, I think I misplaced his info.”

“And who should I say is calling?”

I’m tempted to use Matthew’s name, but the news probably already traveled. Still, I stick to the fear factor. “I’m calling from Interior Approps. I need to-”

Cutting me off, he puts me on hold. A few seconds later, he’s back.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “His assistant says he just stepped out for a moment.”

It’s an obvious lie. At this level, House staffers don’t have assistants. Regardless, I shouldn’t be surprised. If I’m calling through the main line, it’s not a call worth taking.

“Tell him I’m from the Chairman’s office and that this is about Congressman Grayson’s request…”

Again I’m on hold. Again he’s back in seconds.

“Hold on one moment, sir. I’m transferring you to Perry…”

First rule of politics: Everyone’s afraid.

“This is Perry,” a scratchy but gruff voice answers.

“Hey, Perry, I’m calling from Interior Approps – filling in on Matthew’s issues after what-”

“Yeah, no… I heard. Really sorry about that. Matthew was a sweetheart.”

He says the word was, and I close my eyes. It still hits like a sock full of quarters.

“So what can I do for you?” Perry asks.

I think back to the original bet. Whatever Matthew saw that day… the reason he and Pasternak were killed… it started with this. A gold mine sale in South Dakota that needed to be slipped into the bill. Grayson’s office made the initial request. I don’t have much information beyond that. This guy can give me more. “Actually, we’re just reexamining all the different requests,” I explain. “When Matthew – with Matthew gone, we want to make sure we know everyone’s priorities.”

“Of course, of course… happy to help.” He’s a staffer for a low-level Member and thinks I can throw him a few projects. Right there, the gruffness in his voice evaporates.

“Okay,” I begin, staring down at my blank sheet of paper. “I’m looking at your original request list, and obviously, I know you’re not shocked to hear you can’t have everything on it…”

“Of course, of course…” he says for the second time, chuckling. I can practically hear him slapping his knee. I don’t know how Matthew dealt with it.

“So which projects are your must-gets?” I ask.

“The sewer system,” he shoots back, barely taking a breath. “If you can do that… if we improve drainage… that’s the one that wins us the district.”

He’s smarter than I thought. He knows how low his Congressman is on the ladder. If he asks for every toy on the Christmas list, he’ll be lucky if he gets a single one. Better just to focus on the Barbie Dream House.

“Those sewers… It really will change the election,” he adds, already pleading.

“So everything else on this list…”

“Is all second-tier.”

“What about this gold mine thing?” I ask, teeing up my bluff. “I thought Grayson was really hot for it.”

“Hot for it? He’s never even heard of it. We threw that out for a donor as a pure try-our-best.”

When Matthew told me about the bet, he said exactly the same: Grayson’s office supposedly didn’t care about the mine – which means this guy Perry is either genuinely agreeing or is single-handedly setting the new world record for bullshit.

“Weird…” I say, still trying to dig. “I thought Matthew got some calls on it.”

“If he did, it’s only because Wendell Mining lobbied up.”

I write the words Wendell Mining on the sheet of paper. When it comes to the game, I’ve always thought the various votes and different asks were inconsequential – but not if they tell me who else was playing.

“What about the rest of your delegation?” I ask, referring to the South Dakota Senators. “Anyone gonna scream if we kill the mining request?”

He thinks I’m covering my ass before I cut the gold mine loose, but what I really want to know is, who else in Congress has any interest in the project?

“No one,” he says.

“Anyone against it?”

“It’s a dumpy gold mine in a town that’s so small, it doesn’t even have a stoplight. To be honest, I don’t think anyone even knows about it but us.” He tosses me another knee-slapping laugh that curdles in my ear. Three nights ago, someone bid $1,000 for the right to put this gold mine in the bill. Someone else bid five grand. That means there’re at least two people out there who were watching what was going on. But right now, I can’t find a single one of them.

“So how we looking on our sewer system?” Perry asks on the other line.

“I’ll do my best,” I tell him, looking down at my nearly blank sheet of paper. The words Wendell Mining float weightlessly toward the top. But as I grab the paper and reread it for the sixth time, I slowly feel the chessboard expand. Of course. I didn’t even think about it…

“You still there?” Perry asks.

“Actually, I gotta run,” I say, already feeling the sharp bite of adrenaline. “I just remembered a call I have to make.”