Page 29 of The First Gentleman

CHAPTER 25

T he man occasionally known as Jack Doohan watches the whole thing through his spotting scope as he munches an energy bar.

Impressive. He knows a professional tune-up when he sees one—it will cause severe pain and bruising but no permanent damage.

As Doohan zooms in, the guy whips out a cell phone.

Jack reads his lips: “Yeah, it’s me,” he says.

“That asshole writer was just here asking about Suzanne. I think it’s time our man confesses.” He ends the call and ducks back inside.

After about half a minute, the subject Wilson starts moving.

Then crawling. Lucky man—looks like he kept all his teeth.

Through his scope, Doohan follows Wilson as he stands up and staggers back to his car.

The question is, what’s Wilson doing here in the first place?

And whose feathers did he just ruffle?

What does this pissant joint in a shit-ass corner of Rhode Island have to do with Cole Wright’s shady past?

It’s a golden opportunity.

Wilson is in a weakened state.

With a little encouragement, he’d probably start blabbing the whole story and give up all his leads.

But those are not Doohan’s orders.

Observe and report.

He watches as Wilson pulls open his car door and slides inside.

The engine starts up.

Doohan gets to his feet and heads for his own vehicle.

Where’s this preppy punching bag going next?