Fourteen Years and a Single Ledger from the Autumn Election

against his nervous energy.

I wiped the cover with a damp paper towel. The canvas binding was a faded mustard yellow, the cloth dry and stiff after years in the dark.

“We need a complete list of every domestic donor before the afternoon call,” Peter said, his pen resuming its rhythmic tapping. “The prosecutor is looking for anything we failed to cross-reference continue reading …