The Jefferson Allegiance by Bob Mayer Page B

have to figure out why LaGrange and McBride were meeting,” Evie said.
    “OK," Ducharme conceded. "Besides the Poe thing—West Point and the University of Virginia—what do you think the thread is between McBride and LaGrange?”
    “The Poe thing is in the past,” Evie said. “In the present, yesterday, they obviously had a common enemy.”
    Ducharme nodded. “I think they were worried about their meeting being compromised.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “McBride's roses and the bottle were a meeting safe signal,” Ducharme said. “He was probably going to place them on the Milestone. LaGrange would see them and know it was safe to approach. And if McBride had been doing the same thing at Poe’s grave every year, then it was also an annual situational safe signal.”
    “Safe from who?” Evie asked.
    Kincannon answered. “From whoever killed them.”
    “Why cognac and three roses?” Ducharme asked.
    “Poe was a heavy drinker,” Evie said. “Alcohol killed him at a relatively young age, although amontillado would seem more appropriate. The roses are thought to represent the three people supposedly buried under his monument: Poe, his wife Virginia, and his mother-in-law, Mary Clemm. You said ‘annual situational safe signal,’” Evie noted. “It makes sense.”
    “You know what a safe signal is?” Ducharme was surprised.
    “Yes. The Poe Toaster is reported in the news. If he didn’t show up on Poe’s birthday it would be reported in the news. And if the Toaster showed up on a day other than Poe’s birthday and left the roses and cognac, it would also make the news. An indirect means of signaling when either side doesn’t want to directly contact each other.”
    “I don’t think they teach safe signals in civilian colleges,” Ducharme noted.
    Evie sighed. “They do at the Farm. So following the logic, the killer knew they would be meeting at the Zero Milestone ahead of time.”
    “Hold on,” Ducharme said. “The Farm? You were CIA?”
    “Once upon a time,” Evie admitted.
    “What the fuck?” Ducharme said. “Researcher?”
    She gave him a look of disdain. “Field operative. I speak Farsi, Russian and German. Spent six years overseas, two in the Middle East, two in Turkey and a year and a half in Russia. They appreciated my memory in the Agency, by the way.”
    “Well, I’ll be damned,” Kincannon said. “How do you go from that to Monticello?”
    “Long story for another time,” Evie said. “Not important right now.”
    Ducharme ran a hand across the stubble on his chin. “Why do you say the killer knew about the meeting?”
    “General LaGrange was killed before he made it to the Zero Milestone," Evie said. "Which means there’s a very good chance they were going there to meet the killer or someone the killer knew. But they were betrayed.”
    Ducharme mulled over other aspects of the murders. “What about the head-heart letter by Jefferson? Why would the killer want to infer that letter?”
    “I’m not sure the killer wanted to infer the letter,” Evie said. “I think it was a lure.”
    Ducharme was confused. “What?”
    “The killer couldn’t be sure LaGrange got a message to you or that McBride got one to me. But arranging the head and heart like that, would definitely be sending a message to us. To me at least.”
    “I don’t follow,” Ducharme said.
    “Perhaps I’m wrong,” Evie said.
    “And if you’re right?” Ducharme asked. “What’s the purpose?”
    Evie shrugged. “To draw us out into the open.”
    “Why?”
    “No idea.
    Lying once more , Ducharme thought.
    She spoke. “Let’s consider the letter itself. It’s a love letter. Sort of. Let me think.” She pulled out her iPhone and played with the screen.
    Ducharme looked over at her. She stared unfocused at her iPhone, lost somewhere in her own mind. He glanced in the back seat. Kincannon had his eyes closed. Rest when you can—a mantra of Special Forces.
    When Evie spoke, her voice was