"That's fine," Don said in a reassuring tone of voice. "We were hoping you could help us regarding the incident at Dr. Majer's home last weekend. Is there somewhere that we could talk, a table perhaps where I could lay some photos down for you to look at?"

"Of course," the prince said, "there is an office area here." They followed him into the suite, but Sarah let her eyes linger on the men as they walked through. She didn't like going into an interior room with this many people between them and the door. The room they entered was equipped with computer monitors, a fax machine, and several phones amid papers scattered about. They sat at a round table as Don put his briefcase on the floor.

"Would you like a drink?" the prince asked as they took a seat. In the afternoon sun, away from the dim lights at the Majer household, Sarah saw he was much younger than she had originally thought. The sounds of the soccer game drifted in, and she heard the men laugh.

Face and posture relaxed, Sarah's mind was on full alert as the prince left the room. Don leaned down to his briefcase and put his hand inside his suit coat, nudging his gun back a bit. Sarah, seeing the gun, sat a bit straighter, checking her own weapon against her body.

Don laid about twenty photographs out on the table, preparing his questions and conversation. Someone turned up the TV, and Sarah could no longer hear voices in the other room. As the prince came in and placed the coffee and cups in front of them, he nodded at her. She realized she was expected to pour. She took Don's cup as he began to hold the photos up to the prince, handing them to him, one by one, as a 192 a Sarah kept an eye on the doorway. The prince took each picture, taking his time, sipping a light yellow liquid from a clear bottle. Putting his feet up on a chair, he selected a photo and leaned back, relaxed, holding it up and looking at Don.

"This is my cousin," he said. "We grew up together, went to college together."

Don appeared to be surprised. "We're misinformed, sir. I probably just have it mislabeled. Will you give me that name again?" He took a pen from his pocket and scribbled a name on the back of the photo.

"How about this one?" he asked, shoving it across the table.

"Ah, that's my oldest brother, now in the military." He gave the photo back to Don. Don moved a photo from under another one and handed it to the prince. He smiled. "Yes, that's the family picture, my parents, brothers, and sisters."

He stopped, looked at Don, then back at the photo. The older woman in the photo was not the woman from the Majer party, and Sarah could see that he realized what he had just said. Don merely smiled and handed him the next photo. Frowning now, Prince Abdel put his feet back on the floor and laid the picture on the table, bending closer to look. He was looking at it too long, too thoroughly, and true to form, she watched his breathing change, become shallower. "This man is familiar, but I can't say who he is," he said. He handed the picture back to Don. "Is this connected to the incident with Ms. Booker?" he asked. Don nodded. "Are these people, or my family, suspected in any way?"

"We are just trying to make any connection we can," Don said sincerely, reaching for another photo.

Abdel stood, looking down at both of them. "We had nothing to do with her abduction or injury. How could my family be involved with that woman? For that matter, how could I?" He walked several steps away and then turned, looking at Don.

Sarah was motionless, watching Abdel's eyes and body posture as Don turned in his seat to answer him. "I don't think you had any part in this. Since you're in town, we hoped you might be able to identify anyone that we have questions about. We don't have the opportunity to talk with someone of your stature, or from your country, very often. Do you come here frequently?"

The prince looked through the doorway toward the television, a 193 a crossed his arms, and then walked back to the table. "This is my first time in this city. I came to see how Dr. Majer's sister and her family were doing. They were in need of help, and I do what I can." He shrugged.

"How long do you plan to stay?" Don asked with an easy smile.

A door slammed, and Sarah heard a man's voice, speaking in a Middle Eastern dialect. A tall man wearing an odd-colored baseball cap came into the room, took off his coat, and smiled at the young prince. Sarah felt a jolt of recognition as he walked toward them, the male version of Prince Abdel's "mother." Sarah recognized him from the store with Annie, and she saw him remember her. He introduced himself as a cousin and scooped up some of the photos lying on the table, talking to Don about the pictures. Don seemed relaxed, nodding at the man, explaining that they were here seeking help with the case that involved Ms. Booker.

Sarah smiled, trying to melt into the background. She slid her gaze to the prince. Was he the man who had hurt Annie? Or had it been this new man? Or any of the men here? She felt very much the only woman in the suite.

The man nodded, looking quickly through the photos, and Sarah noticed the picture of Abdel's family was gone. He identified the prince's brother and cousin. Don thanked him, leaning down to put the photos back into his briefcase.

"Let's go. This is all we needed. Thank you, gentlemen. Frankly, we are at a loss." Don held out his hands, palms up, in the classic submissive posture. "Who would do this, particularly here?" Sarah stood, following Don, and looked at the man's coat that he'd tossed over a chair. It was the same one he had worn at Sam's, the small store by Annie's house. She smiled as they left the room, thanking the prince, and moved to the door.

They walked silently toward the elevators. "I'll be damned," Don said as the elevator doors closed. "This is as weird as the hidden door in the bathroom. We definitely have a brother and sister." He instructed everyone to hold their position.

They walked into the coffee shop in the hotel lobby, taking a booth that looked out on the street. "That was intense," he said. "Man, I hate situations where we get stuck in an interior area without a clear view of the surrounding rooms, don't you?"

"The prince certainly lied," Sarah said. "At least twice. And that a 194 a man that came in was definitely the man Annie and I saw near her house. He recognized me, Don."

Don ordered a piece of pie and coffee while Sarah asked for water.

There were only two other people in the restaurant, both at the counter, and Sarah relaxed into the booth.

"Did you know that I speak most of their languages?" Don said.

"No, how on earth?"

"My dad was in the oil business, and I practically grew up over there."

"What did the man say when he came into the suite?"

"Essentially, what the hell is going on?" Don laughed. "They think we are so unprepared for them, but we're catching up, Sarah."

"I liked your line about never having the opportunity to speak with someone of his stature. Who were the other photos of?"

"Guys I went to school with over there, about a thousand years ago,"

he said with a laugh. "Now we've got the mystery man's fingerprints, and I'm headed for the lab. Bet you anything they match the ones we found in the basement. I'm sure he never would have touched them if he'd known we were going to be there."

Sarah glanced out the window. A movement caught her eye, and she saw the man, the same one they'd just talked with, moving with a limp down the sidewalk. He was wearing the strange-colored baseball cap and got into a small tan compact car. She sat up, remembering that car with the red sticker and the man with the baseball cap. She'd seen it the day she'd gone to Annie's mother's clinic.

"There goes that man, the brother, or whatever. Don, I've seen him in that car before. Damn. The day I went to the Milwaukee Women's Clinic with Ms. Booker."

"All right, here's what we're going to do," Don said. "First of all, pray that we were good enough not to alarm them, and keep surveillance in place in case we weren't. Secondly, I'll get this stuff through the lab in record speed. Maybe we'll have a face to go with those prints. If that's him, Sarah, it's the man that you shot at."

"The man who shot me," she said, adrenaline and a little anger crawling across her.

"You know what has me worried? Even if this all comes out clearly, even if the prints match, how in hell are we going to do anything about it? The State Department is sending someone up here tonight or a 195 a tomorrow morning. They'll guide us through what we can do about the prince. If the man is not connected to the prince's group, he's ours." He gestured at the waitress and looked at Sarah. "Get Ms. Booker home and then call me, all right? By the way, how are you feeling?"

"I'm sore, but I'm fine," she said with a little shrug. It was the truth.

He was looking out into the street. "Can I admit something to you?"

Sarah nodded.

"The other night scared the hell out of me. How about you? It's been a long time since I've had to pull my gun."

"I didn't have time to be scared. But yes, somewhere in there my knees were shaking. I've never been in so many parts of this investigation before. Is there anything else I should know?"

"No. The psychiatrist wants to see you at least once more, and it'll take I.A. a couple more days to clear the paperwork on the shooting.

You're officially on limited duty. I want you to stay close to Ms. Booker and get her up north. I checked, Sarah. You haven't had time off in over a year. You have to stop that, or you won't be worth anything to me, or worse, yourself."

They left the coffee shop, and Don drove silently for a while, then cleared his throat. "I'm going to give you carte blanche with the Booker woman, Sarah," he said. "If this gets to be something else, I want you to come to me. Talk to me about it. Deal?" Sarah nodded, knowing they were having more than one conversation.

Sarah spent some time in her office, glad to find Dr. Hatawabe's information already on her computer, and she integrated it into Annie's case file. She shut her computer down and looked out at the winter sun, now just about gone. Standing in the doorway, she wondered if she should have talked to Don about her feelings. Still, if Annie took another assignment in Iraq, it wouldn't matter.

v Kilie Williams and Hannah Booker were there when Sarah walked into Annie's hospital room. Hannah looked worn out and gave Sarah a gentle hug.

"Are we ready?" she asked. Annie looked like she had gotten a 196 a some rest. Sarah turned to the other women. "Tomorrow, we'll be out of town. You both have my card with my numbers, and of course, you have Annie's phone numbers. Is there anything I should know or that I should do?"

Both Kilie and Hannah shook their heads. "She'll be fine. She has her instructions from both of us, and no alcohol with those pills. Wait, you're hurt too," Hannah said, moving toward Sarah. "Okay, lift that shirt."

Sarah backed away. "Can't a girl have any privacy? Come on, Hannah."

"Nope, let me look at my art work."

Sarah dropped the bag, pulling her shirt up.

"Let me see," Annie said, walking over to them.

Hannah peeled away a portion of the tape, causing Sarah to jump.

"Looks good. Remember, keep a tight rein on Annie."

"No, that doesn't look good," Annie said. "It looks like she's been shot, and that's enough, Mom. You're talking as if I'm not here. Let's go, I want out of here."

They moved down the hallway, walking to the nurses' station.

Hannah and the doctor stopped to fill out the paperwork as Annie and Sarah waited for the elevator. Annie grabbed Sarah's arm. "Sarah, look."Sarah wheeled and saw a tall, dark-haired nurse dressed in blue hospital scrubs going behind the desk. She was walking right in front of Kilie and Hannah, almost a twin to the man Sarah had sat across from that afternoon. Sarah ran, bumping a nurse, but the woman went through a door before she could get there. She yelled at Hannah, "Who was that?"

"Who?" Hannah asked.

"That nurse, the one in blue, the one that just went through this door." Sarah opened the door cautiously, putting her hand on her gun inside her jacket. She stepped into the exit stairway and could hear footsteps below her, running. "Do any of you know that woman?" she asked, turning to face everyone.

Surprised faces looked back at her. No one had noticed her. Hannah looked at Sarah. "Isn't that something? In all my years and work, I've always wondered how the human mind and eyes cannot seem to work together at specific moments." Sarah pulled out her phone and called a 197 a Scott. They would need to talk to everyone who had been standing there.

Sarah alerted hospital security, but the search proved to be futile.

She seemed to have just disappeared. Sarah questioned those in the area, but no one got a good look at the woman.

Moments later, Scott walked out of the elevator with Don.

"What is this about?" Hannah said. "Is she the woman who hurt Annie and Sarah? I thought it was a man."

"It was a man, Hannah, but this woman is tied to him somehow, and that's why I want Annie out of here," Sarah said. She introduced Don to the two women.

"Don, it was the same woman from Majer's party. Almost a twin to the man we saw this afternoon. Damned doppelganger. No wonder this is confusing. Wait, Annie, could you give us a sketch of the woman?"

Annie sat down at the desk with a pad of paper and a pencil. She had the woman on the paper in just a matter of minutes. "I still can't draw that man, but this isn't a problem, and I've seen her twice," she said, handing the paper to Don.

"That's her," Don said and sent Scott to the personnel office.

"Sarah, there's a car waiting outside the emergency room entrance. Get Ms. Booker's car, pull it up beside the other car, and I'll follow you. I want at least two cars at her house tonight and perimeter walks every half hour."

a 198 a

ChAPTER TWENTy-TWO.

Annie rummaged around in her kitchen cupboards looking for a vase for her flowers and noticed the missing pans, pots, and bowls.

Sarah said the kitchen was a mess the night she'd pulled the gun on the girls. Well, at least Mary remembered my penchant for a neat kitchen and left it organized, she thought. She should have taken them all, and then I could have shopped, she thought. I love to shop for a kitchen almost as much as Ellen Kennedy loves to shop for clothes.

Flowers arranged, she flipped on the deck lights and looked toward the lake. Light snow fell steadily. Don and Sarah laughed, and Annie looked toward the den with a smile. How long had it been since she'd heard that kind of laughter in this house? Sounds wonderful, she thought, taking food out of the freezer and turning the oven on.

She turned back to the accumulating snow, and a random thought slid across her mind. She stopped, staring at nothing. She would never go back to Iraq. Ever. The psychiatrist at the clinic had said she was living in anger, not interest, in her job. Was that true? Anger wasn't feeling alive. She had loved this job so much, once. In the last three years it had been the only part of her that had felt real.

Annie wrapped her arms around herself. What else would she do?

At the very least the network would have a place for her. Or she could teach. Rebecca would love that. She loved art, but she didn't think it would sustain her. She rubbed her forehead, aware that her head was hurting. She went for her pain pills just as Sarah laughed again, and Annie thought of her walking toward her bed in the hospital. Every part of her body moved just right. She'd been watching Sarah's body since the night she met her.

a 199 a v Sarah was in the den, laughing at Don as he tried to start a fire.

Finally, the flames caught and Don flopped down on the couch with a contented sigh. "This is nice," he said. "Look at the space. I'd kill for a house like this."

Sarah realized that she'd liked this house from the moment she first walked into it. Had it been Annie or Mary who had done the colors and the furniture? The room and its built-in bookcases glowed warmly in the soft lights. The carpeting that usually looked off-white now appeared the color of honey, and the colorful accents seemed to vibrate softly in the mellow lights. She could hear Annie clattering dishes in the kitchen. She exhaled. They were home, and it felt good.

Annie came into the room. "Did someone go home with Mom? I don't like it that she's involved with this."

Don nodded. "I had Frazier follow her home, just in case."

Annie looked relieved and sat in her rocking chair by the fire.

"Nice fire, Don. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Thanks, but I can't. Here's where we are, Ms. Booker."

"The name's Annie." She smiled at him.

Sarah watched his reaction to Annie's smile with an inward laugh.

You're had, mister. He cleared his throat, glancing at Sarah as if he knew what she was thinking, and explained the prince's diplomatic immunity as the FBI had to deal with it. Then he talked about the fingerprints and the DNA. He omitted Dr. Majer's sister since the final results weren't back. Annie listened, and when he was done, she looked at Sarah with a humorous expression.

"He knows what he's talking about."

"That's why he's the boss," Sarah said, "and he speaks most of their languages."

"Wish I did," Annie said. "It would have been very helpful when I was over there. How did you manage that?"

"I was practically raised there. My dad was an oil executive around the world but mostly in the MidEast. I have followed your reports with a lot of interest."

Annie grimaced and leaned back in her chair. "Remember them a 200 a well because I'm not sure what I'm going to do next, and believe me, I've had the time to think about this over the last few weeks." She stared into the fire and was quiet for a few moments. "When were you there?"

Sarah had left her boots by the back door in the kitchen and got up to find warmer socks. It's always cold in this state, she grumbled to herself and leaned back into the room. "I'm going to change clothes,"

she said to Annie.