His doubts stopped when he saw the house. Just as Karen said, it was big. The ex-chancellor lived in a once-grand neocolonial with white paint that had begun to fade and peel near the roofline. The railing on the second-story balcony was rusted and the American flag that hung over the front porch had seen better days. A low iron fence snaked around the perimeter, enclosing everything save for a long front path which doubled as a driveway. In that driveway, closer to the house, sat K.J.’s blue Mazda.
Sweating and breathing hard, Tony turned around and began scanning the back of Karen’s car. His eyes finally settled on a collapsed camera tripod.
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