"Did my mom say...?"

"Perhaps. She certainly loves to talk about you. Oh, something a 84 a else, you're slow to anger, but watch out if you finally get there. And stubborn."

This was beginning to feel like a date, Sarah thought and looked across at a relaxed and laughing Annie. It was exactly what she had wanted.

"Actually, I'm beat, and that meal has me headed for a food coma.

I think I'll head off for a shower and bed if you don't mind." Annie stood and walked to Sarah. "I loved the meal." She leaned over and kissed Sarah softly on the cheek. "Thank you," Annie whispered and turned, walking toward the stairway and leaving a nice light fragrance in the air. Sarah could still feel warm breath and lips on her face.

a 85 a a 86 a

ChAPTER TEN.

A thick winter fog hugged the house the next morning, and dry oak leaves skidded across the snow. Sarah stood by the car and surveyed the neighborhood. Scott had just called and said the computer at Annie's house was still not working correctly, so she had him pull the plug and put the whole thing in his car. They couldn't get out of town fast enough for her.

The fog was breaking up as Sarah drove Annie to the clinic.

"I suppose you see this a lot," Sarah said, navigating the streets carefully.

"It's the lake and winter," Annie said, yawning.

"You usually only see this in the higher elevations at home."

"I wouldn't know. I've never been in your home state."

"What?" Sarah teased in mock horror. "You've been all over the world but not to Arizona?"

"Isn't it mostly desert? I've seen enough desert to last me the rest of my life."

Sarah nodded; that was probably true, but that wasn't all the Arizona she loved. She talked about the mountains and mesas, the rivers and lakes in her home state until she pulled into the clinic's parking lot.

Scott was leaning against his car, waiting for them, and took Annie into the building while Sarah went to look for Annie's mother.

"Excuse me." Sarah smiled at the young receptionist, laying her ID on the desk. "Is Dr. Booker available?" She took a quick look at the beautiful interior of the clinic while she was waiting.

Sarah followed Annie's mother to her office. The atmosphere was relaxing and comfortable, and they talked about how the building a 87 a had been designed. They paused on the walkway from the offices to the gym and rehabilitation center as Hannah Booker pointed out the daycare center. "The children we saw in Vietnam were the reason we all began this. We all did at least one tour and came home determined never to see anything like that again." She paused. "But we're doing it all over again in Iraq, aren't we? I don't know how to stop it. War or any of it."

She took several steps and turned. "Call the office, Sarah, I'll set aside time for you, and we can talk about Annie, perhaps tomorrow. I understand that she talked with your mother, so turnabout is fair play, don't you think?" She gave her an impish grin that reminded Sarah of Annie. "Here's the gym and rehab center where Annie's working out."

Sarah spotted Annie immediately. Annie's running shorts and cut- off T-shirt revealed tanned skin over toned muscles, shining with sweat.

Where was the soft feminine woman in the green dress from last night?

This woman looked like an Olympic athlete. Sarah blinked. There she was, just the right amount of muscle and curve.

"Hey, super sleuth, come on over." Annie motioned at Sarah.

"How's the arm, honey?" Hannah asked, helping Annie off the machine.

"Doc says I'm good to go. This is the last day I have to rehab here.

The rest I can do at home. Swelling's down, and my range of motion is good. I'll just have to be careful in the sun until the skin heals." She grabbed a towel, mopping her face and stomach. Sarah could not take her eyes off Annie, following every motion of the towel. She realized both women were looking at her.

"What?" she asked. She'd missed a question.

Annie put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Do you have time for a soda, coffee, water or...?"

"Sure, I have time," Sarah said feeling her face heat up.

"I have to go. Nice to see you again," Hannah said to Sarah. "Give me a call when you can, Annie."

"If it's possible, Mom."

"We will when we can, Hannah." Sarah lowered her voice.

"Come on, I'll shower and we'll find some of the coffee Mom always has hidden in her office," Annie said.

"Annie, wait." Sarah caught up with her. "I'm going in with you."

a 88 a "In the shower?"

"Who's been checking out the showers? Scott?"

Annie grinned suggestively. "For all I would have cared."

Sarah swore softly. "All right, Booker, let me check out the exits, if there are any, and look around. Be done in a minute." They went into the shower area, hearing voices echoing and running water. Sarah knew she wasn't going any farther than the perimeter. She was glad this part of Annie's rehabilitation had been short. She walked up the steps to talk to Scott.

"You should have said something to me about the showers, Scott,"

she said, keeping her voice even. This was her responsibility, not his, but it was also how he learned.

"I'm sorry, Sarah, it just didn't occur to me." He looked down.

"Scott, that's why you're in training, so you can learn the little things, and that's what always bites us all, the things we take for granted, forget to look at." Sarah put a hand on his arm. "Did you ever finish Annie's local information?"

He nodded. "I sent it to you in e-mail this morning. She's absolutely clean. She was very involved in the community before the network moved her out, and there are a few things about her golf and art."

Sarah nodded and started to leave but remembered the computer.

"Scott, wait. Remember to take the new computer to Annie's house after you drop her off at Whitmore. We need to keep things status quo there. Don't go alone. Take someone else with you."

Before they left, Sarah asked to see Annie's artwork that was displayed in the clinic, so she and Annie lingered in the spacious center of the building. Annie talked about some of the pieces, and Sarah thoroughly enjoyed the conversation, asking questions and listening.

The paintings ranged from gentle and reflective to high energy.

"As I've told you, I got into a bit of a problem about three years ago and the network gave me some time off. So I painted-canvas, fabric, walls, you name it. I lasted about three months, and then I was pooped. I couldn't pull off one more color or brushstroke," Annie said, taking a seat in one of the comfortable chairs in the large waiting area.

"There's one painting in there, in the first waiting room, the one with all the reds, pinks, grays, and blues. I've never been there, but it has an Arabian feel about it. You only suggested form."

"It is, Saudi Arabia to be precise. Lots of sand," Annie said, a 89 a tossing her coat over a chair. Her hair, still damp from the shower, swung forward, but not before Sarah saw her face darken.

"You were there?"

"Unfortunately." Annie relaxed, her eyes finding Sarah's again.

"What did you think of this building? My dad does the trees and green things. He loves doing it, and I think it connects him to Mom in a special way. They have a unique relationship."

"They remind me of my parents. They lead their own lives but meet somewhere. My folks are in love and have been since I've been old enough to understand. We're lucky to have these people for parents."

Annie looked up at Sarah. "They meet somewhere? Maybe that's the answer to the question you asked me the other night, about hope for either of us?"

Sarah smiled. "Do you believe in chance?"

"Absolutely, I've lived on it for years. But are you asking about karma or fate?"

"Just chance. Can't say as I believe in the others."

"There is a difference, but I do like the ameeting somewhere' of what you said."

Sarah was quiet for a moment, then said softly, "I love my family, and for some reason, right now, I'm homesick. It's odd." She turned back to Annie. "I have an unusual ethnic background. My grandmother was full Navajo."

"Your mother's mom?"

"Nope, Dad's, and you should see my childhood photos." Sarah chuckled. "My dad had quite a childhood. Do you know about the Navajo?"

"I did a documentary last year on a Navajo Marine in Iraq," Annie said, then grinned. "I read Laughing Boy by Oliver LaFarge. Does that count?"

"Are you kidding me? That's a classic, and I think you're the first person I've ever met that even knows about that book."

"My granddad gave it to me on my fourteenth birthday. In our family, a book is a welcome gift. I liked it, and of course, I still have it.

I think he knew I was searching."

"Searching?"

"Ah, a long, silly story." Annie shook her head and Sarah watched the gold in her hair catch the sunlight. "When I was thirteen, just a few a 90 a days before my fourteenth birthday, I asked my best friend Rebecca to marry me, and when she turned me down, mean woman that she still is, I was crushed. I fell into an abyss."

"What?"

"Yes, a big hole. I moped around for days, and the night of my birthday party, in front of grandparents, family, and friends, I announced that I had asked Rebecca to marry me. You should have heard the silence. And when I explained that she had rejected my offer, I burst into tears like the little drama queen that I was. I thought they were all upset because she turned me down. God, can you believe that?" She laughed at herself.

"Yikes!"

"I was the youngest and most spoiled grandchild, but when my older boy cousins laughed at me, I was devastated and clueless. However, both sets of grandparents had serious talks with my parents."

"How were your folks with this?"

"Respectful of my first encounter with feelings while they waded through the mess that followed. They waited a week and then had a talk with me. It was a beautiful discussion. If I'd ever had children, I'd want my parents to talk with them at those moments. They were right about love. The heart does the choosing. The mind tries to steer, but the heart takes over. Ah, young love. How about you, fearless?"

"My sister, four years older, did the honors. We used to spend summers on the reservation with my grandmother. My first girl, well, I was a bit indiscreet. No, I was a lot indiscreet. Nora, my sister, came around the corner at the wrong time, and there was hell to pay.

Grandmother was so angry at first." Sarah fell quiet, studying the table.

"And your sister?"

"She just scolded me for not being careful. But she did talk with me. She still does when she feels I need it." Sarah stood and looked down at her watch. "Annie, we have to work on getting you out of town.

Scott will take you back to the Whitmore house. Mike and another agent will be there with you, and Scott will go on out to your house. We have to install another computer. That one is still not functioning. I have a meeting with my staff this afternoon, and my senior agent ought to be home from Chicago by then. As soon as you meet with him, we can leave town." Sarah remembered what she had planned to do tomorrow.

a 91 a She'd have to cancel if they could get out of town. "I'll keep in touch with you and call you after my meeting." She scanned Annie's face.

She didn't feel that Annie grasped the urgency or seriousness of her situation. She was going to have to be more firm. Clearer.

"All right. I'll go with Scott."

"Wait," Sarah said, sitting down again. "Now that you're done here at the clinic, we'll have to stay at the safe house."

"What?" Annie frowned at her.

"We have to stay at that house from now on, until we leave. By staying close, we contain the threat."

Annie was still frowning at her. "How am I going to do the exercises they want for rehab at the safe house? Not only that, but I'd like to do a little painting. I don't mind not going out, but..." She trailed off. "Do I get to know where we're going, when we leave town?"

"I'm still setting it up, but I'll tell you when I finalize everything.

We'll figure something out for the necessary exercises, but I think the art is going to have to wait."

Annie nodded and kept her expression neutral.

v Hamel was parked down the street waiting for Sheika to meet him.

Hamel watched the FBI woman get into the car. She had looked right at him and didn't recognize him, even after she'd seen him before. He was just a man in a baseball cap, sitting in a car. The reporter had gotten into her big black car with one of the government men. He smiled to himself. They had found the first bug in their computer but not the second one, and he had easily placed the GPS device on the reporter's car this morning. He could now track her anywhere from his laptop.

The back door to his car opened and his sister got in. Enough for today, he thought, as he drove away in the opposite direction. There is time.

v Sheika rode in the backseat, thinking over what she had heard in the gym. The mother and the government woman had spoken to the reporter. Working with weights just two stations away with her back a 92 a to the three women, she had heard most of the conversation. And what she had heard in their voices made her think about the Booker woman.

She heard affection and respect between the reporter and her mother.

It made her think of her own mother, their mother, and she glanced up into the rearview mirror, studying his face. She tried to remember the last time she had seen him treat any woman with love or even respect, including herself.