She tossed the book on the nearby coffee table, just as Sarah came into the room carrying a soda. She groaned and flopped down on the couch by the fireplace. "That shower felt good, and you have great equipment down there." She leaned back and closed her eyes. "Like that music you're playing?" Sarah asked, taking a drink and raising her eyebrows in a question.

Annie smiled at her. "We grew up on it. Mom and Dad always had music playing, and all four of us had to take piano lessons. If you don't like it, I'll turn it off, or I've got some great old rock I could put on instead."

"I'm fond of country." Sarah smiled back and then relaxed with a sigh. "Like that word, fond?" She stretched and rolled onto her back, one knee up, eyes closed. Annie tried to look away, but her eyes wouldn't leave Sarah's body. Her white shirt was pulled up, exposing a few inches of taut stomach muscles above the faded jeans and bare feet. Sarah reached down and put a hand around the bottle sitting on the floor, accentuating small, firm breasts. Annie held her breath.

"Annie!" Sarah's voice cut into her breathlessness.

"What?"

"What's your answer?" Sarah said.

"What's the question?" Annie answered, thoroughly confused.

Sarah rolled on her stomach, staring at her.

"I asked about those trophies in the basement."

"Oh," Annie said, "what about them?"

"Whose are they?"

"Trophies, where did you see those?" Annie frowned.

Sarah sat up, looking at her. "They're on a shelf down there, behind the bar in the room with the pool table."

"Mary must have done it when she moved her things out of here."

Annie took a sip of beer and looked back at Sarah. "She actually has my golf trophies on a shelf down there?" Sarah nodded. "That's odd. I've never unpacked them."

"Are you all right?" Sarah was staring at her now.

a 46 a Annie shook her head. "Probably not. Oh hell, definitely not. Less than a week ago I was stranded in an airport in Jordan. About twelve of us, huddled on the floor, drinking and smoking anything we could find, afraid we wouldn't get out. When we finally did, fourteen hours later I was in New York City, talking to your people." She let out a long breath and was quiet for a moment. "My body may be here, but I'm not sure where my head is."

Annie was quiet again, then changed the subject. "You had asked about anything that I could think of that was out of the norm. I'm working on some notes for Dr. Majer at the university. He has taught Middle East religion here for about five years."

"What kind of information?"

"His sister and her family are still in Iraq, but just kind of hanging on. I always stop by, shoot a few photos of her family and friends, and talk with her. It's just family stuff."

"Who knows about this? How long have you been doing it?"

"I met him when I first started going to Iraq. That's at least three years ago. My friend Rebecca teaches history at the university, and he was at a party that we went to. I was trying to pick up as much background as I could. I've known his sister and the girls since I began reporting from Baghdad."

"Did he find you, or did Rebecca introduce him?"

"You know, I don't remember."

"Well, let's do a little background on him, shall we? I think we should cover anything you think of." She was quiet a moment. "What were his sister's friends like?"

"She was a professor, like Dr. Majer. Still teaches occasionally when she can and invites me to their dinners. I enjoy them and take photos for her. Pretty good source of information for me, as well."

Annie got up to put another log on the fire.

"Individual shots?" Sarah asked. Annie was wrestling with the poker, one-handed. "Wait, let me do that." Sarah got up and helped, finally getting the log where Annie wanted it.

"Group shots and sometimes individual shots."

"And what do you do with the photos?"

"I give them to Dr. Majer. I just drop them off at his house when I'm in town. Nothing arranged." She felt unsure. "This isn't involved with the Web site, is it?"

a 47 a "I don't think so," Sarah said. "It's just better to look at everything and anything we can. I swear, sometimes I'm just amazed at what's right in front of my eyes."

"It's about the only thing I bring home to Milwaukee. It doesn't feel risky. You know, over there, you just get into a zone, and it's not that you get used to it, but it becomes part of every moment."

"Annie," Sarah said softly, "you've been in many dangerous places. Didn't you start out in Kosovo over ten years ago? That was hazardous, and I know you've worked in Pakistan and Afghanistan.

Your last few weeks in Iraq were pretty scary."

"It's always dangerous," Annie said. "The riskier it is, the more focused I become. I'm not this reckless reporter who loves the thrill, although I admit to moments. My real love is people. I want to know what happens to them. Jack Keegan hired me to go to Kosovo. We started going after the truth and the real story instead of just winging it with rumor." She shook her head. "No matter how often we report it, people have no idea how things are in Iraq right now. It's desperate, bad, and it breaks my heart."

"Annie, let's go look at that computer. I should have checked it when we came home." They moved to the living room where a small flashing pink light made the dark room look eerie.

"Damn." Sarah pulled her phone out and called the office.

"Someone's been in here. Look at that." Annie stood behind her, watching the light as Sarah talked rapidly into the phone. "This is my fault. I should have checked it when we came home. What the hell?

This usually means security's been breached. The techs are on their way."

"Wait, someone was in here, in my home? Why didn't the house alarm go off?"

Sarah walked to the kitchen and opened the panel on the alarm pad. "Maybe I did something when I checked it earlier. I'll have the techs look at it too." She shook her head and followed Annie into the den. "Is there anything else you're working on that we should check out?"Annie went toward her office and Sarah walked over to look at the rows of books on the wall. "Like to read?" she asked when Annie came back into the room a 48 a Annie started to laugh. "They're my buddies and my companions."

"Are they both of yours?"

"Mary's books are gone. See those empty shelves over there?"

Annie pointed across the room. "You don't see any medical books where you're standing, do you? That just gives me more room for my books."

They sat, side by side, on the brown leather sofa, and Annie took papers out of her backpack. Sarah reached for a dark green sheet of paper with a white insignia and white print.

"That's a flyer from the FFI in Iraq. I got that when they opened the country's first women's shelter in Baghdad. Did a report on it. Are you familiar with that?"

Sarah shook her head and looked over the notes and photos. "We don't have any of this. Our counterparts over there probably do, but we don't that I know of. What was that, FFI?"

"It's the FFI, Freedom First in Iraq, a women's organization."

Annie glanced at Sarah and noticed the long dark eyelashes shading her eyes.

"What's your story? How did you get into the FBI?"

"Well, my dad's ex-FBI, so I grew up in it. Then a friend, actually more than a friend, steered me into it after college, and I liked what I saw. Ah, youth." She grinned at Annie. "Later, I found out that it was just a way to get me out of town. What a way to break up with someone."

Annie grinned back. "Yeah, that does suck. So, is there someone else?"

"Nope, that was the last one. I get out, bars, movies, what have you, but nothing serious."

"What's your job? I mean do you have a specialty or something?"

Annie searched for the right words. "I think what I'm asking is, are you primarily behind a desk?"

Sarah looked serious. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." They laughed at the old joke.

Annie relaxed. It'd been too long since she had just laughed like this. "I work on special cases," Sarah said, "and also as a profiler now a 49 a and then. Actually, that's my specialty, but this is a small office, so I usually do fieldwork. Lately, I've been working with a special agent in charge of this area's Joint Task Force on Terrorism, so here I am."

"Listen, it's not personal that I don't want anyone with me at the house or everywhere. I'm alone most of the time, but I can share my space if needed. Right now, with Mary leaving and some other things I'm dealing with, I'm not easy. I admit it." Annie thought of the packed bags in her bedroom. The idea of leaving still felt good to her. "A Web site just doesn't seem very threatening to me. I've been pinned down, under fire, and I'm sure you know about Jack Keegan. Then the dead children when I was injured. Can you understand why a list doesn't feel threatening?" She looked at Sarah. "However, if someone's been in here, my own home, that does upset me."

Sarah frowned and turned to Annie, putting her arm protectively on the back of the couch, close to Annie's shoulders. "Believe me, they're here. The group I mentioned tonight, the one I'm assisting on, is very organized. My fear is that whatever this is, no matter how small it looks to you, has attracted enough attention to fall into their sights.

Please take this seriously."

Annie heard the plea and closed her eyes. "You're the expert," she said softly. "I'm shocked by all of this, and as many places as I've been, that's not easy to do, Sarah. I'm not afraid. I understand fear. I think I'm just kind of...stunned." Annie sat straighter, glancing into the calm brown eyes. She had never said that to anyone, and she looked again at the steady eyes next to her, wondering if she saw trust. No, trust was what she was feeling.

"How long are you usually gone?" Sarah said.

"Usually three to four months. It's about as much as I can take and still be civilized. Now, I get back here, and it looks like they've followed me home. Plus, the house is empty because my doctor has gone off with another doctor."

"Not that it's any of my business, but how are you with that?"

Sarah took her arm away and straightened.

"With Mary? I was surprised when I found out about the other person, but truthfully, we've been in bad shape for a long time. The only thing that surprises me is that she didn't tell me that she was moving out now. You must have seen that when you asked me when she was coming back?"

a 50 a Sarah nodded.

"Mary deserves a life. Someone to talk to and live with every day, not just two or three times a year. I was never honest with myself as to how lonely she was. Never thought how she might worry while I was out there, in the world's neighborhoods where they shoot people or blow them up. There are a gazillion other things working here. I mean, we've lived together over ten years, but I just keep thinking about being gone so much."

Sarah simply nodded again.

"I've been in places so seriously dangerous that I finally quit talking to Mary about them, but this-Jack Keegan and the explosion- got to me. God, eight children, Sarah." She brought her knees up under her chin and rested her head. "Surely you've been there too?"

"Not that extreme, but yes, danger. There is that to be said for both of us. Do you think there's hope?" Sarah quirked an eyebrow at Annie.

"I'm not sure what I believe anymore or even how I feel. You were right when you told Mom and Dad that we forget, here in the U.S., that we are actually in a war. Of course I know they're here. I hear crazy stories everyday over there, but home always feels safe to me.

The world fascinates me, but I think I'd like to stay here for a while."

She trailed off. "I'm whining. Sorry."

"Please do. That means I can whine too." Sarah gave her a grin and leaned over, picking up the open sketchbook. "What is this, by the way?"

Annie took the book. "I sketch while I'm on assignment. It relaxes me and helps me remember details." She thought of the morning after Jack. "It also helps me discipline my mind." She flipped a couple of pages. "This is my hotel room in Baghdad." She tipped the book so Sarah had a better look.

Sarah whistled softly. "You're good. You lived in this room?"

Annie laughed. "And glad to have it. Not the Ritz, huh? Kept the gin under the bed, along with the crackers and dried fruit I lived on."

She turned the page to a drawing of a woman with a wistful expression.

"This woman is a chemical engineer. At first, women, under Saddam, had quite a bit of freedom. Many are well educated and articulate, but now, with less education and freedom available, the young girls gravitate to the old patriarchal ways."

a 51 a Annie was aware of the lavender scent of soap on Sarah, and moved closer, enjoying the fragrance. "I respect the religion of any country I'm in, but this one is a problem for me. It doesn't want to include women. It wants them home, obedient, and uneducated." She flipped a few more pages in the sketchbook, stopping at the drawing of a cleric coming out of a mosque. "I think fundamentalism thrives when a culture goes through a dramatic change. The more afraid a society becomes, the more it tolerates from its government or its leaders. Look at us after nine-eleven, we've had fundamentalists falling out of the woodwork, and I won't even speak of the government."

v The phone rang and Annie reached across Sarah, answering and immediately smiling, "Hey, Rebecca, what's happening?" She unfolded from the couch and took the phone out of the room.

The FBI team arrived a few minutes later, and Sarah sat with them in the living room. Someone definitely had been inside the house and messed with the computer. She put her coat and boots on and went outside with the others to look for footprints in the snow. They found tracks leading away from the side door of the garage. Sarah wanted the prints measured and the house gone over. Her breath blew white puffs into the air as she talked to the forensics team, and she stayed with them until her fingers began to go numb.

Annie was back in the den with her knees drawn up under her chin again, looking at the sketchbook. Sarah stood by the fireplace trying to warm up as she told Annie about the computer, the footprints, and what the team was hoping to find as they went through Annie's home. They would print, photograph, and videotape the scene. The two women walked slowly through the house to see if Annie could find anything missing or out of place, but found nothing. They talked with the team for a bit and then went back to the den. Annie was pale and quiet, so Sarah picked up the sketchbook, asking about the drawings again.

There were drawings of Annie's driver, Saddam's palaces before and after the American invasion, bombed-out cars, Iraqis of all ages.

Annie stopped at the drawing of the marketplace, the one done just before the explosion. Annie had disappeared for two days after the injury, and Sarah wondered where she had been. And what if Annie had a 52 a been the target when they shot the network producer or set off the car bomb? Annie held up the green paper again.

"The situation for women is declining. Sexual assaults and human trafficking are on the rise. That's what this flyer is about, the FFI." She laid the paper flat and pointed to a piece of its text. "See, shelter and protection for women, safety from the oppression of fundamentalism."

Annie sighed. "Sometimes being in Iraq is like being on the moon, all sand, dirt, and dust. I miss the brightness, the oxygen of this place.

Home. And the right to be able to say these things out loud."

Sarah loved listening to Annie talk but didn't like what she was hearing behind the words-the isolation and hurt. She changed the subject, hoping to change the mood.

"Oh, before I forget, what's the story of the red bicycle at your parents' house, the one with the crow painted on it?"

Annie finally laughed again, "When I was ten, my oldest brother, Noah, took me to the dump and we found that bike. He wanted to teach me mechanical things, so we took it home, put it in the basement, and took it apart. God, there were hundreds of pieces. Then, over the next few months, he helped me reassemble it and paint it. That bike is the first thing I ever built from scratch, and I named it the Red Crow. It was the fastest bike on the block." She grinned at Sarah.

The FBI techs were done and called out for Sarah. When she came back into the room, Annie looked up at her. "I just remembered, when you checked the house last night, did you go into the loft?"

Sarah stopped, surprised. "What?"

"The loft, the second story here?"

"Damn," she said, "I looked at it from the outside but missed it when we came in. Show me, please. Is it locked?" Annie shook her head and they moved to Annie's office. She pointed at what appeared to be a wall.

"What? That's a wall."

Annie touched a small indentation in the wall and it slid open, revealing clothing hanging in front of them, boxes of computer paper, and shoes on the floor. "It's a closet?" Sarah held her hands out.

"Not your fault. I was so tired last night," Annie said, hitting a light switch that illuminated steps to the right. "I can see how you missed this." She entered the closet, starting up the steps.