"Forged visas?" Annie leaned forward, scanning the paper.

"Annie, Iraqis have been filtering into our country for years, and trust me, this is good information."

"But look what I did, and have been doing for quite some time.

I took their pictures. I helped them make forged documents. Am I in trouble?"

"No, you had no way of knowing, but my senior agent would like you to look at the photos we have at the office. You'd know if it was something you brought home, wouldn't you?"

"I believe I would, but I've been doing this for a while. Where do I go to see the photos?"

"We'll set up a time to have you come to the office. This is the best lead we've had in over a year, but you did mention something that has a dark side. That flyer that you showed me? The FFI has been threatened by Jaish al-Basca, just as you have."

A stricken look passed over Annie's face. "They're on the Web site too?"

Sarah nodded. "We're checking with the other journalists right now. Actually, I hope that's exactly what it is, that you're on the list because you attended the opening of the FFI. Do you happen to know if any of the other women were at that event, the opening, or at the shelter at any time?"

"At least one of them was. We went together. It was the English photojournalist, Kerry, who's still there. Could it be this simple?"

"We can only hope," Sarah said.

"That list, Sarah. I just have such a hard time with it. I don't think it's connected to what happened at my home."

a 79 a "I agree, but it's what I said. What if this group we're working on has ties to Jaish al-Basca? The break-in at your house just skews everything. It makes it personal. When we get your arm taken care of, we'll move you again, probably up north."

"You mean leave town?"

Sarah nodded, watching Annie's reaction carefully.

"Of course I'll go, if that's what you think is needed." She looked at Sarah, unsmiling. The candlelight played across her already gold skin and darkened her eyes to the color of summer leaves, matching her dress. Sarah hardly knew where to put her eyes.

Annie pushed food around for a moment. "Isn't memory odd? I knew something was moved in my studio, but I still can't remember that man we saw at Sam's store the other night. He's tall, and my memory connects him with Afghanistan. He's just too familiar."

"Do you want to see one of our artists?" Sarah asked. "What am I saying? You could probably do the sketch better then they could."

Annie's face had an odd expression. "I've tried. It's so eerie, Sarah.

I get shaky when I try to draw his face, and my mind shuts down. I can't figure this out." She shivered. "Why don't we use one of your artists?

You saw him too, and you can help. At least we'll have a drawing, something for your people to work on. If you can get the picture out there, someone might know him, recognize him. Well, maybe this isn't important right now?"

"It's all important, Annie."

"That reminds me, Dr. Majer has invited Rebecca and me to his annual winter dinner."

Sarah almost came off her chair. Here was the moment Don was looking for, the way to get close to the college professor. "That's perfect.

We've been trying to figure a way to get in his door without attracting too much attention." She gave a small laugh. "And I have plenty of black for a dinner occasion. Believe me. When is the dinner?"

"This weekend. Saturday night. We could go to the party and then leave town."

"That's more days than I'm comfortable with, but we could always come back for the dinner. It's certainly the perfect opportunity." Sarah was quiet, counting the days. She changed the subject. "Tell me about your arm." She was rewarded with a smile that finally reached Annie's eyes.

a 80 a Annie leaned back in her chair and told her what the doctors had said. The soft lights turned the dim room gold where it drove the shadows away, and it felt warm and close. Sarah wished this were another time and another reason to be sitting across the table from Annie.

"Can anyone work out at the clinic, or do you need to be a patient or a member?" Sarah made a mental note to drop into the building with Annie in the morning and have a look at it. They could go to the office afterward, talk to Don, and then get out of town.

"Anyone can go there. They even have a daycare center." Annie took a drink of wine and looked at Sarah over the glass. "Have you ever shot anyone?"

Startled, Sarah straightened in her chair. "What?"

"The doctor says the stress I'm feeling after Jack's shooting and the bomb is what law enforcement officers often feel when they've been involved in a shooting, especially a killing."

"No. I've only had to pull my gun a handful of times."

"That's a good thing."

"Are you having problems?"

Annie nodded. "I'm having nightmares again. I got into something about three years ago and didn't want to admit to the symptoms." Annie was quiet for several moments. "This last time in Baghdad was one of the strangest moments of my life. I actually got dizzy because I forgot to breathe." She looked at Sarah with an amused smile. "You expected a little resistance moving me here? Maybe a little temper?"

"Yes, frankly."

Annie concentrated on her plate. "I don't quite understand this, but honestly, you make me feel better. Maybe even secure, and that's a first."

Sarah smiled because Annie had said it like she meant it. She shrugged. "I'm glad I'm doing my job."

"Ah, you save damsels in distress, Agent Moore?"

Sarah felt her cheeks warm. "You know, when they gave me this assignment, I wondered what you would be like. All of us have had some fairly trying experiences with celebrities."

Annie's gave her a look of disbelief. "Celebrity? Who have you been talking to? It's not true. I'm just a hardworking correspondent who takes her job seriously. Celebrity, ha!" She started to laugh. "Well?

Did I pass the test?"

a 81 a "Of course." Sarah laughed too, but stared at Annie's mouth.

Definitely intriguing, wide and quirky.

"I know the kind of people you're talking about. I run into them while I'm working, and they're a real pain. They usually just get in the way." Annie propped her arm on the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, giving Sarah her full attention. "Didn't you say your dad had been shot while he was working for the FBI?"

Sarah, pulled into Annie's eyes, was quiet for a beat too long and Annie began to smile at her. "Uh, yes, right after nine-eleven. He almost didn't make it."

"But he's fine now?"

"It's like he did a one-eighty with his personality. He changed, became a different person when he came home."

"That makes sense when you've come so close to death."

"I wouldn't know. I've never been injured." She looked at Annie.

She was recovering from something that had been close to death. Would it change Annie like it had changed her father?

Annie reached down beside her chair, rummaged about, and put a pen and notebook on the table, flipping the top open.

"Wait," Sarah said, "where did you get that?"

"What?"

Leaning forward, Sarah deliberately looked at the green dress Annie was wearing. "Nope, no room for a pen and paper. Not an inch for anything but you."

"Reporters always have paper and pen. That's in case the electricity, or the memory, fails. If you want to talk aroom,' let's talk about that leather you're snuggled into."

"Believe me, I am way less asnuggled' than you are."

Annie opened the notebook and shoved it across the table.

Sarah picked it up and began turning the pages, looking up at Annie.

"Names?"

"The people that I lived with in the hotel in Baghdad during this last trip. Those people went home in just the first two weeks."

Sarah flipped the pages. "What happened to them?"

"They just couldn't handle it or didn't like it, but most were simply afraid. I was too. You'd be dumb not to be. Living in fear is twenty-four/ seven when you're in the middle of a war. It gets to be something that you depend on to keep your head on straight."

a 82 a Sarah nodded and then realized she didn't know about this kind of living. This was new territory.

"Well, super sleuth, where did the intrepid reporter hide the paper and pen?" Annie shot a mischievous look across the table.

"I am not even going to go there." Sarah returned the look, and their eyes held for a moment.

Annie leaned forward. "Coward," she whispered.

"Am not," Sarah teased back. "I am brave and tough, and you should see me catch bullets with my teeth." Annie's eyes were sparkling, and Sarah realized they were doing a pretty good imitation of flirting.

Something she hadn't done in way too long, and it felt good Annie broke the spell and stood, picking up plates. "I'll help you clean up." Sarah watched Annie move away. The dress clung lightly around her lithe body, and she walked confidently She was small- boned but agile, and Sarah swallowed hard as a sudden flush of desire sideswiped her. She picked up plates and followed Annie into the kitchen. Annie was running water over plates, stacking the dishes in the sink. She smiled at Sarah and said, "Tell me something about yourself.

Something personal."

"What's to tell?"

"Look how much you know about me, and you've even met my parents."

"You have a point," Sarah admitted. "Tell you what, let's make this interesting. Start from scratch. Take me as you see me."

"Well, you're about an inch taller than me. Five-nine or so?"

Annie wiped her hands on a dishtowel and put her fingers around Sarah's biceps. "Look at those muscles, hoo, baby. Can't tell what sport specifically, but you walk like an athlete."

"I play golf a lot. Or did before I moved here. And you know I work out, plus a little kickboxing."

"Golf? Love that game," Annie said. "If I'm in town, you're on this summer, deal?"

"Deal. Let's take you through the house so you know where you're going. I'll get our bags."

They walked through the large, old house and up a graceful staircase.

"Where did you get this house?" Annie asked.

"It used to belong to some DOJ man and his family. He was a 83 a transferred to the West Coast and we took it. Some guy with a Greek name that no one can pronounce, so we just call it the George the Greek House, or the Whitmore place." She led Annie into a large bedroom and told her to leave her bag on the dresser. "This'll be your room, and I'm next door." They walked down a long hallway and Sarah showed her the other rooms and the bathroom.

"Would you like to change into something more comfortable?"

Sarah asked when they were done. "I'll change too and meet you downstairs. Want some more wine?"

"Love it," Annie said, disappearing into her bedroom.

Sarah was pouring Annie another glass of wine and had found a soda when Annie reappeared at the table.

"Thanks for the flowers," Annie said, picking up her glass. "And the wine."

"I'd like to take credit for that, but it was Mike's idea. I volunteered for Pride weekend three summers ago and ran into him. He had just joined the agency and he was there with his partner, a local guy. I have dinner with them now and then." She looked at Annie's purple Pride T-shirt. "I have a red T-shirt just like that."

"Give me a minute here. I want to talk about you a bit more,"

Annie said. "You have a master's in criminal science, but also a degree in archeology? That's truly odd."

Sarah was surprised. How had she known that?

Annie put her glass against her forehead and shut her eyes. "Wait, there's more," she said. "You fell out of a tree at age nine, breaking a wrist, left one I think."

"How on earth?" Sarah shot forward in her seat.

"Told you, reporters-the good ones-are intrepid."

"No way."

"Believe in me, super sleuth."

"How?" Sarah cleared her throat.

"I telephoned your mom after you called today." Annie's laugh was soft and teasing.

"You're evil, Booker, you know that?"

"So I've been told."