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Five,’ and he plays piano there under the name William Evans.”
    Charli laughed. “Bill Evans?”
    “Well, William.” Bark looked confused.
    Charli said, “I’m laughing because Bill Evans was the name of a famous jazz piano player. Jake chose that name as a joke. How did you find him? Wiretap?”
    Bark looked around with shifty eyes as if checking that no one who could overhear. “We put a tap on the phone of a Ms. Renata Perez in Mexico City.”
    “Mexico City?”
    “Right. She used to be his partner.”
    “Significant-other-type partner?” She frowned. Why did I ask that?
    “No. Business. Perez now heads up the counter-kidnapping company, Corby Solutions. We also tapped the phones of others in the company.”
    “Well, good job, Ms. Bark. It’s a relief to have resolved this. The president was eager to locate him.”
    “I’m afraid there’s a complication.”
    Charli frowned and tilted her head. “How could there be a complication? We found him, now we go get him.”
    “His friend’s daughter, Corby’s goddaughter, was kidnapped and he’s helping to get her back.”
    Charli was speechless for a second then recovered. “Oh man!” She pulled on her ear and looked down. “Tough situation. Poor guy.”
    Bark handed Charli the transcripts from the phone conversations. Charli whistled as she read them. “If there’s any scenario that can compete with a world-wide emergency, this is it.”
    When Charli finished reading, she closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose, as if she had a headache. “Okay, here’s what we do. The president may not go along with this, but that’s tough.” She opened her eyes and looked at Bark. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. We’ll just have to do without Jake a little longer. We’ll help him out with the kidnapping. That way we can free him up sooner. Sorry, that sounds heartless. Chandra, think about how we can help him recover Perez’s daughter. Don’t do anything without my approval, but put together some ideas.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    May 29, 2018
    Charli was on her hands and knees on the rug in the Oval Office while President Hallstrom looked over the latest changes that she’d made to his speech. She lunged forward and pushed Boondoggle, Hallstrom’s huge German Shepherd, with her head. She tried to knock him over. The dog loved it. He’d give a little bark and jump back for more, wagging his tail. The dog weighed almost as much as she did.
    President Hallstrom sat with the speech in his lap and the stockinged foot of his bad leg up on the desk. He was the country’s first bachelor president since James Buchanan.
    He had the body of a former runner, with an emphasis on “former.” He’d be impeached if a paparazzo caught him in a Speedo, but clever tailoring of his clothes was enough to keep him on all the world’s eligible bachelor lists. According to the tabloids, he had a politically incorrect woman hidden away in the White House, but in reality, he was simply married to the job.
    He put his finger on a word and looked over at Charli. “‘Economic mosh-pit’? I’m not sure that’s going to work for the over-thirties. I’m not even sure what it means.”
    “They might not know exactly what it means, but they’ll have a general feeling. Mish-mosh, chaos, etc. It has a hip sound, and you need that right now. By the way, this has got to be the best dog in the world.” Charli’s voice was muffled because she was hugging Boondoggle’s neck, with her face buried in the German Shepherd’s thick fur, enjoying the moment. Nice that nothing further had happened related to the sneeze and pain thing—no incidents of mass farting or world-wide episodes of acid reflux. Of course, most interpreted this as Charli having overblown the whole thing. So be it.
    Gordon Guccio knocked and entered the Oval Office. He looked over at Charli and the dog. “Hey, get a room, guys.”
    Charli looked up with the perfect retort