Dead Watch

Miss Ass, USA. We could create a pageant in Atlantic City . . .”
    “We could call the contestants ‘aspirants’ . . .”
    “Your spelling sucks,” Jake said. “Anyway, we could have the Atlantic City Ass Parade, like the Rose Parade in Pasadena, but instead of flowers on the floats . . .”
    “That’s enough. Did Danzig really mention my ass?”
    “Yes, he did. And your . . . breasts.”
    “Except he called them tits.”
    “Yes, he did.” He rolled up on one shoulder. He lightly dragged his index finger from the notch of her collarbone to her navel, and on south. “It’s a weird thing. With most good-looking women, you might want to play around a little. You know, get them up on top, or just . . . fool around. With you, all I want is in . And I want to stay in. I just want to be inside, be as close as I can get.”
    After a moment, she said, “That’s nice, I think. After a while, you’ll probably notice my fine mind.”
    “And your understanding of Thai culture.”
    “Arab.”
    “That’s what I meant, Arab.”
    They made love twice more, and after the second time, with her arms wrapped around his neck, she whispered, “I think . . . we could be onto something here.”
    “At my age, I’m almost afraid to think that,” Jake said. “But I hope so.”
    She pushed herself up on her elbows. “We have a huge tub in the master bath . . .”

    They spent a half hour in the bath, which was big enough to float them both simultaneously, and then climbed out, retrieved their clothes. While Jake got dressed, Madison changed into jeans, boots, and a plaid shirt. She already had a bag packed. “You ready?”
    “I’m ready.” She touched her hair, as though for a TV appearance. “Let’s do it.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “I think about the girl in Madison. You described her a little too well.”
    “I could figure out something with the car,” Jake said.
    “Nah—I’m going.”

    He trailed her down to the front room. Launching the play, she said, “You’re sure you don’t want another glass of wine? You have to go?”
    “Yeah, I’ve got to get this done,” Jake said. “I could use a Coke. It’s a long drive.”
    They went out in the kitchen, still talking, and Madison got two Cokes out of the refrigerator and said, “Take another one for the road.”
    “Thanks.”
    They drifted back into the front room and he twisted the top off the Coke bottle; Jake wondered if the pfffttt it made would be audible on a tape.
    “I don’t understand why you can’t look at it here,” Madison said. “I mean, in Washington, at your house.”
    “Because I’m tied into the Wisconsin thing. If Novatny smells a rat, the feds might come crashing through the door. And they must be getting frantic, with Barber going out the window. If I’ve got the package, I’m toast. I don’t even know everything that’s in it yet. It might be impossible to hold on to . . .”
    “You’ve got to hold on to it, Jake,” Madison said, urgency in her voice. He thought, Not bad . “You’ve got to. All of this will have been pointless if that thing gets out there now. All you have to do is hold it until after the convention. Or even just before the convention, that would do it. Just hold on to it for a few weeks.”
    “I’d like to. But I gotta find out what’s in it, sugar,” Jake said. “The cabin has everything I need—it’s got Internet access, got a computer, and nobody’s gonna find it. I talked to Billy and nobody’ll be there all week. For the rest of the month, for that matter.”
    “When are you coming back? I might need you here.”
    “I need you, too.” He kissed her, spent some time with it, then broke away, breathing hard again. “We gotta stop. I gotta get going.”
    “Please try to hold on to it,” she said, an urgent, pleading tone in her voice. “If Landers gets knocked out now, they’ll give the job to Goodman in a flash. He’s the one they want. Landers won’t do them any good this year.”
    “I will, I’ll hold on to it.” Sounding a little harassed now. “I’ll try to hold on. If there’s nothing in it that would push it out there right now, I’ll stick it in a safe-deposit box, somewhere that’s not obvious, and we’ll break it out in October.”
    “Where are you going to be? Give me a phone number . . .”
    “You can’t call from here, if there’s trouble, they could trace it back, they’d know you knew where I went.”
    “Only for an