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ChAPTER ELEvEN.

It had been easy for Annie to persuade Scott to drive her to her brother's apartment. He had also sat patiently while she got her hair done. Her hairdresser had flirted shamelessly with him, making Annie laugh and Scott blush more than once. He hadn't even argued as she'd told him that she needed to paint before they went to the safe house. She stood in her studio now, organizing the painting, assessing the first colors she'd laid on the canvas. One more layer of paint, a few sketches, and they'd be back at the other house. Scott was downstairs, still working on the computer.

Annie had been carefully quiet when Sarah called her on her cell phone, fully aware that Sarah had thought she was talking to her at the other house. Sarah had sounded crabby and unhappy as she told her they would not be able to leave today. After they hung up, Annie thought about what she had done. She had probably just gotten Scott into a world of hurt, and she began to sketch quickly over the canvas.

She would get this much done and get back to the house on Whitmore.

Finished, she ran downstairs and changed into a clean denim shirt.

She stared at the one packed bag still lying on the closet floor and had a sudden wild urge to leave. It was simple. She could have that discussion with her parents and then just go. She could hear Scott working in the living room and thought of Mike waiting for her at the other house, and then Sarah. "Sarah," she said aloud, feeling the word in her mouth. She sat for a moment, thinking about last night and this morning. Sarah had said they might be able to leave tomorrow. That was a kind of running away.Annie checked her e-mail as she got ready to leave, looking for a 95 a something from Kerry, but there was only a forwarded message from Bill Simpson at the network office. Lindsey Kelling at the Baghdad FFI had asked to use the piece Annie had done when they had opened the shelter. Lindsey asked if they could combine it with Annie's piece on the Iraqi custom of honor killings. Annie accessed the actual film while she went to her notes. Squinting at the screens, she finally swore and grabbed her glasses off the desk, then settled in to see if she could put the two pieces together from home. After getting the voice and film coordinated, she sat back and watched.

Her job was beginning to blend with disappointment at the deteriorating situation in Baghdad and the certainty that no one knew exactly what was going on. Usually someone, or some group, had the information. The real story, no matter where she was, was often difficult and usually dangerous. However, discovering the truth in Iraq had become impossible.

Annie concentrated on stories about the people, not the politics.

She thought of Jack Keegan and his commitment to those same kinds of stories. She wondered how the network would ever replace him. How would she ever replace him? Restless and edgy, she couldn't help the tears that began to blur the film, and before she could stop herself, she was crying.

A hand was suddenly on her shoulder and Scott said, "Ms. Booker, are you all right?"

She shook her head and wiped her eyes with her fingers. Scott handed her a Kleenex just as the doorbell rang. He left to answer it.

Annie followed him and saw her brother Will standing there, frowning at Scott. She grabbed his coat, pulling him inside. "Get in here, idiot. It's freezing."

"I didn't know you meant the FBI had to be in your home," Will said.

"Tell you what, brother, I'll trade your life for mine right now."

"I've never wanted to do what you do, Annie," Will said. "I'm here because I need some help with the recording that I talked to you about."

"The one you promised me a copy of, and by the way, do you need some artwork on it?"

"Good thought. I may just take you up on that. Anyway, our a 96 a practice studio overbooked and we need a place. Could we use the bar section in your basement?"

Annie grinned. "Sure, go ahead. It's all yours." She looked at Scott for confirmation, and he nodded.

"Cool," Will said, "let me get them in here. Do you want us to come in through the garage?"

Scott stood beside Annie as people with instruments and amps started coming into the house and Will directed them down to the basement. As the drummer went by, she was certain she could smell pizza. She looked over at Scott. He'd smelled it too and smiled at her Mike drove up and ran toward Scott and Annie. He drew them off to the side, away from the people trooping into Annie's garage and house.

"Where have you been and what the hell are you doing?" he angrily demanded.

Annie answered before Scott could say anything. "This was my doing, Mike. My brother, Will, is using my basement for a practice session for his band."

"No, he's not. Not with you anyway. We've got to get you to the other house. And, Scott, where's your phone?"

Scott searched his suit coat and then looked at him sheepishly.

"It's in my coat, in the other room."

"Do you realize that Sarah's going to shoot both of us?" Mike said to Scott and then he looked at Annie. "Maybe even you."

"Shit," Annie said. "Give me your phone. I'll call her."

v The meeting finally over, Sarah walked wearily to her office and flipped on her lights. There was a mailing envelope on her desk and she turned it over. Good. It was Annie's earlier reports from overseas.

Even though they were now confident that the Web site threat was tied into the FFI, she wanted to run over this, just in case. Hell, I just want to look at her and listen to that voice, she admitted and tossed it in her briefcase.

She scrubbed her face with her hands and reviewed the discussion she'd had with Don Ahrens. He had ordered her to wait to move Annie out of town until after the dinner this weekend at the Majer house.

a 97 a Sarah had argued vehemently, but Don had simply nodded and told her to put it in her report, to document the fact that he had overridden her decision. This was wrong and dangerous. She grabbed her coat. At least Annie was safety tucked away at the Whitmore house.

Sarah took her anger at Don out on the workout equipment at home, pounding every muscle. She picked up her phone as she walked toward a much-needed shower.

"Damn." There was a message from Annie. "What the hell?"

she said, grabbing her leather motorcycle jacket and an Arizona Diamondbacks baseball cap to cover her sweaty hair. She slammed out the door. Twenty minutes later she pulled up to Annie's house. There were at least eight or more cars parked up and down the road. She threaded between two vans in the driveway, swearing aloud, and then realized she couldn't get inside. Everything was locked up. She called Scott and ordered him to open the garage door.

Scott met her at the door, eating a piece of pizza, and Sarah's anger shot up. At least Mike was in front of the computer. The house smelled like beer and pizza, and she heard muted music and laughter coming from the basement.

She was almost speechless with anger and both men knew it.

"Who wants to tell me what the hell is going on?" she said in a cold voice.

"It's my fault," Scott said and admitted that he had brought Annie home that afternoon.

"Home?" Sarah echoed, incredulous. She swiveled to Mike.

"And why didn't you call me, let me know they never showed up at Whitmore?"

"I'm sorry. I kept thinking they'd show up," he said, and Sarah could see that he was trying to protect Scott. She studied their anxious faces and understood exactly what had happened. Annie had simply managed the entire situation.

"Dammit. You're both dead and you know it," she said, clenching her jaw. "Who are these people?"

"Annie's brother and his band. They're practicing," Scott answered, his voice rising with nerves. "I thought it would be okay.

Ms. Booker was in her office, crying."

"Crying?" Sarah said. She looked toward the basement. Crying?

a 98 a She turned to Mike, and he swore that Annie identified everyone that walked into the house.

"And what would you have done if someone walked up and she said she didn't know them?" She glowered at him, hands jammed into her pockets.

"I wouldn't have let them inside."

"Point being, it would have been too late. They would be there, in front of her." She tapped him on the head and exhaled. "I'm trying to get her out of this house, this city, and Don wants to wait until this weekend. Between you two and Don, I'm banging my head against the wall." She walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a soda. "I'll deal with you tomorrow. Let's go look at the basement. We'll watch from the steps."

v Annie was thoroughly enjoying herself. They had remodeled this part of the basement into a bar, but Annie hadn't used it in a long time and she couldn't stop smiling. About twenty people were crowded inside as the band ran through their songs. It hadn't taken Annie long to figure out that Will had set this little pizza and beer party up under the guise of a practice. She poured herself another beer, sitting with people she had grown up with. No secrets with this group. She'd known most of them since high school and would have given anything to have Rebecca here. This was fun.

Will started playing a reggae tune, and a hand grabbed Annie's, pulling her up to dance. She grinned at Tori and leaned into her. Tori had been an exchange student from Norway who had stayed in Milwaukee and finished college. They had met on the golf course, and Tori had become Annie's first lover. Three years later, Tori had found the woman now playing saxophone in Will's band, but she and Annie had remained close friends.

v Sarah watched a tall, fit woman with a punk blond crew cut take Annie out onto the floor. Annie's form-fitting jeans and white T-shirt a 99 a under the blue denim shirt showed her agile body off perfectly, and Sarah took a long drink of her soda. The two women moved apart as Annie danced in front of the blonde and started to unbutton her shirt suggestively, causing the crowd to laugh. Despite her arm, she got it off in a flawless maneuver, never missing a beat, and the blonde pulled Annie into her body, moving easily with her. Annie's hand went up into the air swinging the shirt over her head, finally letting it go, and then she settled against the woman as their friends whistled and clapped.

Damn. Sarah took another drink, her insides clenched. She watched the blonde's large hands run slowly down Annie's ribs, caressing her slim hips and ending up on that cute little backside she'd admired this morning. Sarah almost groaned out loud. Taking another drink, she gripped the bottle so tightly her hand hurt. Annie's body was free as air with the music, her face against the woman's shoulder. Finally, the song ended, much to Sarah's relief. Her body was on fire.

v Annie sat down and reached for her beer as Tori bent over and kissed her. "Whew," Annie said, fanning her face with her hand, laughing with her friends. A dark-haired man picked Annie's shirt up from the floor and walked back toward her as she was happily talking with the people at the table. Two hands clamped down onto Annie's shoulders, and her beer sloshed down the front of her.

"Stop it," she said, looking up. A man she'd grown up with, a neighborhood boy once married to her cousin, was staring down at her, handing her the blue shirt. Or were they still married? Foggy with alcohol, she couldn't remember. "Hey, Link," she said, wiping herself off with a napkin.

"Glad to see you too," he said, pulling his chair next to her. "Home for a while?" She nodded. "I suppose you heard I'm no longer in the family?"

Annie made a face, glad she had one brain cell still functioning. "I thought I heard, and I'm sorry, but it's still good to see you."

He tipped his chair back on two legs. "Well, it's not your fault, although she did go off with someone you know."

"Who?"

a 100 a "That big girl that used to play first base on your softball team."

Annie's table quieted, and she looked at her friends. This was news, but no one had told her, including her cousin. She laid a hand on Link's arm. "I didn't know, and I am sorry. You had kids, right?"

"Bet your sweet ass we did. A boy and a girl. You're not to blame, Annie, but it's your kind that are, and the damned courts gave her the kids. God will judge all of you." Link's face was red, and several people at the table stood. Annie felt her face grow warm as she stared back at him.

"Link, I didn't know about her. No one told me a thing, but if she's still the same person I grew up with, she's a good mother," she said as firmly as she could manage.

His chair slammed down, and he was inches away from her face, about to say more when Will put a hand on his shoulder. He shook it off and stood, kicking the chair into a group of people standing by the bar. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then all hell broke loose as the group at the bar came at him. Annie's chair was shoved over backward, but it was caught before she hit, and suddenly, she was looking up into Sarah's face. Sarah pulled her up, putting her body between Annie and the fight, and pushed her away.

Will separated the angry men and jerked Link toward the stairs.

Sarah and Annie followed them up in time to see him take Link out the door. The music had stopped in the basement.

"I didn't know you were home," Annie said, looking at Sarah's faded jeans, black turtleneck, motorcycle jacket, and baseball cap. She stared for a moment and then grinned. "Cool clothes."

"I just got here and was sitting on the steps with Mike and Scott when the fight broke out. You looked like you were having fun," she said sarcastically.

Will walked back in the door and said that a friend was driving Link home. Annie just shook her head and introduced Will to Sarah.

"I'm sorry about this," he said to Sarah. "Annie looked like she could use a little company, and so I organized this. I'll pack up the party and get everyone out of here."

"I think that's a good idea," she said.

v a 101 a Sarah left them standing there and walked to the back of the house, giving them some time to get the place cleaned up and quieted down. As she went past Annie's office, she noticed the lights and the computers were on. Papers were scattered over the desk. It looked like material on the FFI. She reached over and hit the refresh on both computers. Annie was interviewing a short young man dressed in a suit on one screen, while the text ran on the other. Sarah read a bit of the text regarding the FFI and then spaced down. She saw Annie's piece about honor killings that she had seen the day Annie had come home. Scott poked his head into the office.

"I'm leaving, and, Sarah, I am sorry." He looked genuinely contrite.

She shook her head and turned her back to him. "No. You're not leaving. You're staying here tonight. I'm taking Mike and Ms. Booker back to the other house but I want you here, watching that computer and this house. And, Scott, you'd better think about what you're going to tell me tomorrow."

She walked into the den and sank down on the couch, leaning back and thinking about Annie's dance. Not only was the entire event unacceptable, but damned if she wasn't feeling a little jealous. She reached up and turned the light out just as Annie came in and sat on the couch next to her.

"I've had a bit to drink, but I'm not totally out of it," Annie mumbled, kicking her low boots off and pulling her legs up under herself. The room was dark except for the triangle of light from the kitchen outlining Annie's profile. "This is too bizarre. I survive Iraq and come home to crap like this." She was quiet for a moment. "This is all my fault. Are you really angry?"

"Yes, I am. With all of your experience, you should know better."

Annie sighed and they sat in the dark without speaking.

"I'm really angry, Annie. If you don't value your own life, I'm not certain I can help you. You were careless, and what about Scott?

You could have gotten him hurt or worse. I can't believe that you don't recognize how dangerous this is. I thought you understood that last night." Sarah stood. "We're not leaving town until after Majer's party.

Put your shoes back on. We're going to the other house. I've already sent Mike."

Annie sat up, picking up a shoe. "I was working on some film and a 102 a notes in my office when Will came by and asked to use the basement for a practice session. Of course, he brought beer and pizza."

"Your computers are still on. I was in your office."

"I'll shut it all down before we leave. My interview with the FFI is on there. I should show it to you."

"Who was that tall Norse-looking woman?" Sarah asked.

"Would you believe, my very first?"

No wonder they looked like they knew each other's bodies so well. They did. "What's she up to now?"

"Married to that good-looking woman playing the saxophone.

They're one of the best couples I know. We've been friends over twenty years. I met her when I was sixteen."

"Let's go." Sarah helped Annie up. "Don't forget your computers."

Annie fell asleep on the drive and left Sarah with her own thoughts.

Driving through the snowy streets, she looked across at the sleeping woman and her anger slowly drained away. Had Scott said she was crying? Once home, Annie immediately went to bed without saying a word and Sarah stayed downstairs, talking with Mike. She got a calmer and more accurate story about the afternoon. When they were done, she went upstairs for a shower.

Sarah stripped down to a T-shirt, inserted the network disc into the DVR, and crawled into bed. She looked at the dates, noticing the reports began well over three years ago.

Propping another pillow behind her, Sarah settled in. The film showed a different image of Annie. Her hair was longer, less streaked, and she looked more rested and fuller in the face. Sarah froze the frame and looked at it carefully. Age had made Annie's face more interesting and beautiful. She was interviewing a diplomat in Pakistan, a pudgy fellow with a yellow tie. Annie was wearing a light pink top, and Sarah watched the man's eyes. Yep, he was staring right at Annie's cleavage with a big smile on his face. "Dirty old man," Sarah muttered and then smiled. She'd been guilty of the same thing with Annie.

The film ran for a while, and then Sarah sat straighter, pushing up in the bed. "What the hell?" Annie was changing right in front of her eyes. She clearly looked more stressed, tired, and her smile had lost the jauntiness of the first part of the film. But it was her eyes that Sarah stared at. They had grown older, and there was an odd preoccupation a 103 a around them. It was almost haunting. It was the look of isolation that Sarah had been fussing about. She stopped the film, checking the dates of the last reports. It was over two years ago. She turned the disc off and looked out into the room. "What the hell happened to you, Annie?" she asked trying to remember what Annie had said today at the clinic. The network gave her time off when she ran into a little trouble? It wasn't little, Sarah thought as she turned out her light.