Bolinger worked up some paper. It was nearly two hours before Farnhorst returned.

"We got him, Bob," he said triumphantly. "Guy was getting ready to take a little trip. He'd booked a ticket to Toronto and was already on his way north on Thirty-five towards the airport when I caught up with the surveillance team to bring him in. When we tried to pull him over, he made a run for it. Wrecked his car, then hopped out and ran into some woods. He didn't get very far. Had a couple bags packed, his passport, and about twenty thousand dollars in cash."

Bolinger stuck a pen in his mouth and started to chew on it. "Shit, good job."

"But this is what you're really gonna like," Farnhorst said, holding forth a plastic bag containing what looked like a woman's underwear.

Bolinger took the bag and looked at it quizzically.

"We found this stuffed into the bottom of his duffel bag…" Farnhorst said. "It's a woman's bra and panties…

"There's blood on them, Bob," he said quietly. "I wanted to show you before I send them to the lab… I think they might be hers."

CHAPTER 3

ONE YEAR LATER

"And he wants me to represent him!" Casey said.

She spoke in a tone just this side of obnoxious but still loud enough for everyone else at the table to hear. It was an elegant political fund-raiser for the governor at a thousand dollars a plate. Women in gowns and diamonds, men in tuxedos and gold Swiss watches turned their heads. Casey tossed back her titian hair and laughed frivolously. Her own diamond necklace danced in the candlelight.

With her long, pretty fingers draped loosely over his shoulder, she said to her husband, "Tony wants me to go up to Minnesota and represent a rock star. A rock star! What next?"