'You don't strike me as the type to run in a straight line.'

'You really are learning,' Buchanan said.

'Evasion and escape.' Holly exhaled. 'I missed that course when I was in journalism school.'

'I didn't mean to get you involved. It was the farthest thing from my mind. I'm sorry, Holly.'

'It's done. But I helped make it happen. I didn't need to agree to meet you. I could have kept my distance. I'm a big girl. I stopped letting people control me a long time ago. Do you want the truth? I thought you wanted to meet me to tell me something that would put me back on the story. I got foolish and greedy. Now I'm paying the price.'

'Then you understand.' Staying low in the back seat, Buchanan spoke reluctantly. 'You realize that because they caught us together, they think we're both a threat to them. It was a possibility before, but now your life really is in danger.'

Holly tried to control her breathing. 'I had another reason for agreeing to meet you. An even more foolish reason. It had nothing to do with the story. Deep down, I wanted to see you again. Dumb, huh?'

Except for the flapping of the windshield wipers and the drone of the engine, the car became quiet.

Holly waited.

She finally said, 'Don't respond. Just let what I said hang there. Make me feel like a jerk.'

'No. I...'

'What?'

'I'm flattered.'

'You'd better say something more positive than that, or so help me, I'll stop this car and.'

'What I'm trying to explain is, I'm not very good at this. I'm not used to anybody caring about me.' Buchanan's disembodied voice came from the darkness of the back seat. 'I've never been in one place long enough to establish a relationship.'

'Once.'

'Yes. With Juana. That's right. Once.'

'And now I'm risking my life to help you find another woman. Wonderful. Great.'

'It's more complicated than that,' Buchanan said.

'I don't see how.'

'It's not just that I was never in one place long enough to establish a relationship. I was never one person long enough. It isn't me who wants to find Juana. It's Peter Lang.'

'Peter Lang? Didn't you say he was one of your pseudonyms?'

'Identities.'

'I think I'm going to scream.'

'Don't. Later. Not now. Get us out of town.'

'In which direction?'

'North. Toward Manhattan.'

'And what's in-?'

'Frederick Maltin. The ex-husband of Maria Tomez. There's one other thing we have to do.'

'Get you a shrink.'

'Don't make jokes.'

'That wasn't a joke.'

'Stop at a pay phone.'

'I'm beginning to think I'm the one who needs a shrink.'

14.

At one a.m., between Washington and Baltimore, Holly parked at a truck stop on I-95. Buchanan got out and used a pay phone.

A man answered, 'Potomac Catering.'

'This is Proteus. I need to speak to the colonel.'

'He isn't here right now, but I'll take a message.'

'Tell him I got the message. Tell him there won't be any trouble. Tell him I could have killed those four men tonight. Tell him to leave me alone. Tell him to leave Holly McCoy alone. Tell him I want to disappear. Tell him my business with Holly has nothing to do with him. Tell him Holly doesn't know or care about him.'

'You sure have a lot to tell him.'

'Just make certain you do.'

Buchanan hung up, knowing that the number of the pay phone would automatically have shown itself on a screen on the catering service's automatic-trace phone. If the colonel wouldn't accept Buchanan's attempt at a truce, a team of men would soon converge on this area.

Buchanan hurried back into the car, this time in the front. 'I did my best. Let's go.'

As she pulled out into traffic, he reached for his travel bag. The effort made him wince.

He took off his pants.

'Hey, what do you think you're doing?' Holly asked.

His legs were bare.

'Changing my clothes. I'm soaked.' In the flash of passing headlights, he squinted at the waist of his pants. 'And bleeding. I was right. Some stitches did open up.' He took a tube of antibiotic cream and a roll of bandages from his travel bag, then started to work on his side. 'You know what I could use?'