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scared.”
    “Why are you scared?”
    Huang’s dark eyes widened. “Because someone shot at my boss. It could have been me.”
    “Do you have any enemies?”
    “Me? Of course not.”
    “Maybe someone who blames you for not getting a bill through?”
    “The Lieutenant Governor doesn’t have much to do with legislation,” Huang said.
    “But you’re the legislative director.”
    “Yes—he takes positions on legislation, speaks to groups generally in support of the governor’s agenda, so I prepare position papers, make sure that I can answer any questions he may have, identify proponents and opponents, make sure he’d informed. He also sits on several committees, such as the Coastal Commission and an economic development commission, which often take positions on legislative issues.”
    “Any positions that have been unpopular?”
    “This is America, Detective. Politicians don’t get killed because they take an unpopular opinion.”
    Jim needed to push Huang a harder. If he knew something, anything, he needed to spill it now. “If it’s not professional, maybe it’s personal.”
    “I don’t know much about Mr. Hart’s personal life.”
    “But you know about yours.”
    Huang opened his mouth, then closed it. “Detective, I—I don’t see what you’re getting at.”
    “Is there anything in your personal life that I should know about? Someone who has threatened you?”
    “Why—why would you think this has anything to do with me?”
    Did he look worried or was Jim reading fear into his expression?
    “You haven’t answered my question.”
    “No, nothing at all. I do a good job for Mr. Hart, just like I did for Mr. Goodman.”
    “The previous lieutenant governor?”
    “Yes—I worked for him for nine years—six in the State Senate, and nearly three years in the LG’s office, until his heart attack last year. Mr. Hart kept all of Mr. Goodman’s staff, though I’m the last one remaining. Everyone else found other jobs, but it was gracious of Mr. Hart to keep us on for as long as we needed.”
    “But you stayed.”
    “Mr. Hart asked me to, because I know this job inside and out. I know the lobbyists and the issues and the committees and what his duties are. He seemed to appreciate that. I don’t see why this is relevant.”
    “And no one has a grudge against Mr. Hart. Any threatening letters?”
    “Yes, we get a few, but we send those to the CHP. We don’t get many. There are only six staff members, and one of those is a part-time intern. In fact, Mr. Hart’s campaign for governor has more paid staff than his legislative office.”
    “The campaign,” Jim said, switching gears ... after all, this was a campaign event where Hart was shot at ... “what do you know?”
    “Nothing—I work for the government. There’s a strict line I do not cross.”
    “Yet you were at this press conference.”
    “During my lunch hour. I don’t work on the campaign because I don’t want there to be any perception of impropriety. I was here to support my boss, and be available to him if he needed any information that related to business before the state of California. You can ask anyone. I never cross the line.”
    “What about your boss? Did he ever cross any lines?”
    Jim watched Huang’s reaction carefully. He seemed perplexed. “Mr. Hart has been a terrific boss. I don’t know what you mean about crossing lines. Mr. Hart is the utmost professional.”
     
    ***
     
    Travis Hart had no privacy until he returned to his capitol office. He sent his staff home early. The CHP put an officer at the main door, so Travis closed himself in his office to ensure that no one could overhear his phone call.
    This whole situation was fucked.
    He pulled out one of three phones from his jacket—he had one for the campaign, one for state business, and one personal phone.
    He had five missed calls on his personal phone, all from the same number.
    He returned that call first.
    “I’ve been busy,” he said