“I appreciate you giving us the opportunity, sir,” Alex said.
Hawk and Alex followed Thurman back to his house. Located just inside the city limits of McLean, Virginia, the senator’s neighborhood stood in stark contrast to the bustle of the nation’s capital. Serene streets and luscious parks marked the area.
“Every time I visit these neighborhoods, I question my career path,” Hawk said.
Alex snickered. “You think you could do what these men do? It’d make you go crazy.”
“You’re probably right. But still,” Hawk said, nodding toward a sprawling Victorian mansion with an estate that he estimated encompassed five acres.
“I know, I know. It’s the good life, right? You think that until you learn about all the shit they have to put up with. I don’t think it’s worth it.”
Hawk nodded. “I think you’re right—until I think about worming my way along the hot desert floor as I maneuver myself into position to hopefully put a bullet in a guy’s head before he gets one in mine. Seeing all this does make me question my sanity.”
“Trust me, Hawk, you’re not made for this life. You’re doing exactly what you should be doing.”
“But look at that.” He pointed toward a red convertible Lamborghini parked next to a Lotus in front of a three-story brick home.
“I’ll concede that it might be fun for a day,” she said.
“Thank you. That’s all I was looking for. I just wanted to make sure that my wife was a normal human being.”
She chuckled and shook her head.
“Looks like we’re here.”
Thurman’s car signaled left and waited for the black gate to swing open. From the road, not much was visible of the senator’s home. An eight-foot white brick wall surrounded the estate. Only the top story of the house peeked over the wall.
When Hawk followed Thurman inside, Alex’s jaw went slack. Set back about fifty meters from the road was the Tudor-style home. A well-kempt garden surrounded the exterior, while the grass was cut short and tight like a golf green. At the end of the drive way was a five-car garage that had an enclosed walkway leading to the house.
“Okay,” Alex said, “maybe it’d be fun for a week.”
Hawk shook his head and grinned. “So you really are a normal human being.”
She shot him a sideways glance. “Don’t get any ideas. I still like hacking into computer mainframes and going on global adventures with you. And you know I’ll never drive a minivan.”
“Famous last words,” Hawk said.
They both got out.
“If I have to drive a minivan, don’t think you won’t be driving one too sometimes.”
“If we were to get one for some strange reason, I’d soup it up. It’d be the coolest minivan on the block.”
She rolled her eyes. “Good thing we won’t have to deal with that problem.”
The garage door closed behind Thurman’s car, and then he met them by exiting through a side door.
“If you don’t mind, please make this quick,” Thurman said as he strode toward them. “My wife relishes her privacy, and I know she wants to be able to grieve in peace.”
“Of course,” Alex said. “We’ll get out of your hair as soon as possible.”
Thurman led them upstairs to Thaxton’s room. Old trophies from youth sports covered the top of his dresser, while ribbons and photos were pinned to the pair of corkboards on opposite walls in his room. Several boxes were strewn across the floor, items haphazardly placed inside without any sense of organization.
“What are we looking for?” Alex asked.
“I want to see his planner,” Hawk said.
They both rummaged through the dozen boxes or so until Alex fished one out of the bottom.
“This is it,” she said. “It’s even got this year emblazoned across the front.”
Hawk scrambled over next to her. “Let’s look at the last three months. That should give us a picture of what he was in to.”
Alex flipped through the pages, but the previous month was missing. “Well, that’s odd.”
“Make a note of that, and mention it to Thurman before we leave,” Hawk said. “I want to know if anyone else had access to this information before it was returned here.”
Alex zipped through the pages but couldn’t find anything that would indicate he was involved in anything suspicious. She went to close it but felt something crinkle against her finger, something that seemed like it was coming from the cover. “Now this is strange. Feel this.”
She placed Hawk’s hand on top of the padded cover, and it made the sound of paper crinkling.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Alex asked.
“I already told you that I can’t read your mind,” Hawk said with a smile. “It’s an ability no man actually possesses.”
“Get your knife, and cut out whatever that sheet of paper is inside,” she said.
“Not necessary,” he said as he slid his hand inside and eased out a sheet of paper.
“Jack pot,” she said.
“Not so fast,” Hawk said. “We need to open it first.”
Hawk unfolded the sheet and spread it out on the ground. It was a list of names, a couple which Alex recognized.
“I think we might be on to something,” she said.
“I know that name,” Hawk said, pointing to one near the top. “And that one, too. These are all FSB agents.”
“But what about that one?” Alex asked as she fingered a name near the bottom.
“He’s not FSB. He works in the CIA’s covert operations.”
“And this woman here appears to have a Scandanavian name.”
“I’m not so sure this is just a bunch of FSB agents. Pocket this, and let’s get out of here.”
Alex complied, shutting up the planner but only after taking a few pictures with her phone.
On their way out the door, Hawk pulled Thurman aside.
“Did you find anything?” Thurman asked.
“Nothing all that earth-shattering,” Hawk said, “but we did find a page missing from his planner. Has anyone else had access to all of Thaxton’s belongings since you brought it
