(Noah)
The drive to Dad's house took a little over thirty minutes. The folder sat on the passenger seat beside me the entire way. Every time I looked at it, I thought about Elliot Vance and the message that had appeared on my phone. By the time I pulled into the driveway, I had more questions than answers.
The lights were still on when I parked. That wasn't unusual. Dad had never been the type to go to bed early, even after stepping down as president. Most nights he was still awake long after everyone else had called it a day.
The front door opened before I could knock. Dad stood there holding a coffee mug. Mace was sitting on the couch behind him with a beer in his hand. Both of them looked at me when I stepped onto the porch.
"You're here late," Mace said.
"Didn't know there was a c
