Ronni smiled, helped pour the tea, spoke briefly on the sacredness of the marriage bond and her conviction that her husband was all that stood between us and the arrival of the anti-Christ.

During this, Fraser circulated, keeping liaison with the local fuzz. Cambell and I tried to stay roughly on either side of Alexander. The only danger to him that I could spot were the pastries. I tried one and they tasted like something you'd swallow to avoid torture.

A smallish woman with short blond hair asked me if I was with Congressman Alexander. She wore a sensible gray suit and a corsage.

"Yes," I said.

"Well," she said, "we're all behind him up here. He's the first politician in this state to make sense since I've been voting."

"This is the only state that voted for George McGovern in 1972," I said. "You think a conservative can get elected in Massachusetts?"

"Absolutely. Massachusetts was just a little slower to come to its senses. But it has. Liberalism is bankrupt."

I was looking at her corsage. You don't see a corsage all that often, especially during the day. It was an orchid.

"Don't you love my corsage? Donald, my husband, gave it to me last night when he knew I was going to meet the congressman. I kept it in the refrigerator all night."

I smiled. "It's certainly attractive," I said.

We left the Haverhill Republican Women's Club in time to get to the Raytheon plant in Andover for the shift change. Alexander stood at the gate and shook as many hands as he could as the workers came out heading for the parking lot. More than half the workers brushed by Meade and Ronni and ignored the outstretched hands. Some others shook hands without any sign of recognition. Most of the workers were men, and most of them turned after they'd passed Ronni and looked at her. A bearded worker in a plaid cap said, "Nice ass."