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select his replacement. Are you backing one of the contenders?”
    Lick’s pale, worn face creased with a knowing smile. “Oh, I have a candidate in mind . . .” He paused and pumped his wild flyaway eyebrows. “An unconventional nominee.”
    “You have to let me in on this,” the PM said, barely containing his excitement. “Who’s your man?”
    Stroking his stubbled chin, Lick issued a cryptic reply.
    “Patience, Mayor. The show’s about to start.”

Chapter 5
    THE FROG WHISPERER
    TUESDAY ARRIVED WITH another rare showing of Indian summer’s warmth. A glorious linen blue sky stretched over the San Francisco Bay, causing its cold, numbing water to look almost inviting. Vibrant colors bloomed in temporarily unshaded courtyards. Plants across the peninsula took on a verdant green glow.
    It was a deceptive, seductive lure—one that threatened to disrupt the efficiency of the entire workweek.
    In the financial district’s high-rise office buildings, the lazy afternoon seeped into the endless rows of dungeonlike cubicles, taunting the poor souls trapped within. Those who didn’t pause to gaze dreamily out the nearest window began to twist and squirm in their seats, tugging at the constricting confines of their suits, ties, high heels, and skirts.
    As the clock ticked slowly toward its five o’clock release, the antsy army of young professionals grew more and more restive, and a palpable tension began to build. Several hundred minds coalesced around a single pulsing thought.
    If only I could be outside .
    • • •
    ACROSS TOWN, A far more relaxed and contented individual strolled through the thousand-acre green space of Golden Gate Park.
    The bright sun sparkled across the sky-high tops of a stand of ancient redwoods, splashing down through the needled canopy to the ruffled red head of a burly man with a freckled face, a gap-toothed grin, and a beefy lumberjack’s build.
    A trail of dried mud crumbled from the man’s thick-soled hiking boots as he ambled along a sidewalk cutting across the middle of the park. He threw his shoulders back, taking in a deep, chest-filling breath of redwood-scented air.
    Sam Eckles preferred rural living to city life, but in this part of San Francisco, he felt completely at home.
    • • •
    HUMMING HAPPILY TO himself, Sam continued down the path to a fork, where the trees parted for a wide field.
    On his left lay the Music Concourse, a multiuse amphitheater filled with a number of open-air stages along with several small elms whose branches had been pruned down to short, knobby limbs. To his right stretched the sprawling complex that housed the California Academy of Sciences.
    Recently reopened after a lengthy renovation, the Academy’s new structure featured an ecofriendly grass-covered roof, a planetarium, a flock of webcam-mugging penguins, and a four-story rain forest exhibit, all seamlessly integrated with a vast aquarium. The establishment drew thousands of visitors each year, the majority enraptured schoolchildren.
    A nonstop roster of activities took place in and around this busy enclave—concerts, festivals, school field trips, and the like. Despite all this bustle, the area retained the quiet tranquility of the surrounding park, a surprising oasis in the center of the busy city.
    • • •
    AT THE FORK, Sam directed his dirt-caked hiking boots toward the Academy of Sciences. He soon reached a row of metal bike racks flanking the turnoff for the front entrance. Hooking a right, he strode purposefully up the walkway toward the ticket booth.
    As he reached a short flight of concrete steps, Sam paused to look up at several banners attached to the building’s eaves. The sheets, which stretched three-fourths of the way down the concrete and glass walls, were printed with adverts promoting the Academy’s special time-limited exhibits.
    One of the banners, Sam noted with approval, highlighted the rare amphibian species he had been summoned there to