"There's truth to that."

"What happened to your mom?"

"She died. Pneumonia."

A terse reply; he would have been young, and she could hear the hurt that still lingered. He had lost his mom just like she had lost her dad. Had prayed, and watched her die. And he had decided as a result not to believe. It hurt, how much she could empathize with him. If she didn't have two decades of faith anchoring her down and causing inertia, she might have broken under this pressure and stopped believing too.

She hugged her knees tighter against her. "What was it like, when you lost your mom?"

He didn't answer her right away "Like I was the one being put in the grave. The thing I feared most had happened. She was the only light in my world, and it was gone." He looked at her. "Like it must feel with your dad being gone."

She knew exactly what he meant. "I've spent my life with Dad always there as a compass, believing in me, convinced I could succeed, backing my dreams; and now he's gone. It's a horrible void. I find myself going through days waiting, hoping, for something to come along and take away that ache."

"Time fills it. And the good memories return."

"I don't think anything in life is going to be harder than attending the funerals."

"Shari, you'll get through them."

"Because I've got no choice."

"Because you're a survivor," Marcus corrected.

Shari blinked, his assessment catching her off guard. She had only spent a little over a week with him, but he had managed to understand her in a more profound way than Sam ever had. On the surface her life might appear easy, she had the family wealth, the close family, but her professional life was defined by her stubborn ability to fight on against the odds. And in prayer... She wasn't ducking her head and accepting what had happenedl she had practically picked a fight. "Yes, I am. And so are you, Marcus."

He gave a rueful smile. "Yet one more thing we have in common."

"I think this one is more important than a love for chocolate ice cream and a habit of keeping humorous secrets."

"Oh, I don't know. It depends on what kind of day it's been."

She laughed. "You're good for me."

"Of course I am." He leaned over to his briefcase and pulled out a biography of Roosevelt. "Take a book and go curl up in bed. You need some sleep."

"Political histo Nice choice."

"Guilty, I thought of you when I picked it up." He quirked an eyebrow.

"Don't stay up reading all night."

"Yes, sir."

"Good night, brat."

She tweaked his collar as she passed behind him and said good night.

Nine.

S.

had didn't think she was going to make it through the eulogy at her dad's funeral. She fought the tears, struggled to keep her voice steady. It was the toughest speech she had ever written, ever tried to give. She had labored for hours to find the right words.

The church was filled to capacity. It was a private service by invitation only. because of security, because so many wanted to attend and the church could only seat three hundred. Her dad had been loved.

Joshua had come up to the stage with her. Her voice broke and she felt his hand come to rest against her back. She couldn't look at the crowd. She raised her eyes desperately to the back of the church instead. Marcus stood at the back of the sanctuary and her gaze caught his.

Marcus, this is so hard.

His gaze was steady as he looked back at her. He believed she could do this. He'd sat up with her for over an hour last night just listening when she hadn't been able to face turning in. He was one of the few men she had met that didn't cringe when someone cried. He'd just pushed over a Kleenex box and stayed, not trying to solve the pain, just sharing it. She took a deep breath, looked down at her notes, and when she resumed, her voice steadied.

Joshua had given his remarks before hers, and when she finished he led her from the stage back to her seat beside their mom. "You did a good job," he whispered, leaning down to hug her. She wanted desperately to give him a full hug in return, but with his arm strapped to his chest she had to accept simply wrapping one arm around his waist. "Thanks," she whispered. "So did you."

The final song began. The service was nearly over and with it part of her life.

Beth took her hand. Her mona was bearing up under this burden so much better than she was. For Shari, it was facing all over again the reality of what had happened two weeks ago. "Honey, this is a day to celebrate, despite the sadness."

Dad was in heaven. Shari forced herself to smile. She wished that fact would take away the pain, but it only made her aware of how long it would be before she saw him again. She focused on the flowers adorning the front of the stage, picking out the beautiful bouquet from the O'Malley family. She wondered if Marcus had any idea how much that gesture had meant to her mother as well as herself.

And what he had done for Josh... She didn't know how to say thanks to Marcus for what she had only now begun to notice. The one on-one conversations between the two men, the coordination going on-Marcus had put Josh firmly in the middle of every decision being made.

Marcus's actions had passed on the mantel of head of the family, made it real and concrete. She wasn't surprised by Joshua's maturity and steadiness; under his carefree approach to life he had always been a decisive man like their father. But Marcus had given him the gift of acting on that reality. And it had helped Josh cope with his grief.

The funeral concluded. The organ music resumed as ushers came to escort them from the front pews of the church down the center aisle. The graveside service was being held at the adjacent cemetery. Shari was dreading it. There was a hole dug out there, the dirt turned up, and even the false green carpet of grass laid across that dirt and around the stark evidence would not hide the truth. She was afraid her composure would break.

Carl had been buried early that morning at Arlington National Cemetery. It had been easier to maintain her composure with that very formal ceremony. The honor guard, the folded flag, it represented the tribute of a nation to a good man.

This was the tribute of a family to a husband and father.

Marcus appeared at her elbow as the family prepared to go outside.

"There is a canopy set up to provide shelter from the wind, and they have set out chairs for the family. Please stay under the canopy after the short service until Quinn and I join you."

Shari nodded. She was very aware of the fact they were physically keeping her surrounded as she moved around outside, l"or the first time since the shooting almost two weeks ago, she was not in a protected environment. It had been well advertised in the media where she would be today and when. It would scare her, that realization, if she didn't have so many other emotions absorbing her.

She trusted Marcus to keep her safe.

She was the only witness to the shooting, and the burden of that sat heavily with her. Two men were being laid to rest today and justice for them now rested with her. She knew that, Marcus knew that, and somewhere out there the shooter knew that.

She walked out to the graveside with her mom and Joshua, accompanying the rest of her extended family.

lemarks at the graveside were simple. Their pastor read from Psalm 34, Dad's favorite. A prayer was said. And then two ladies from the choir closed by softly singing Amazing Grace. The words rang through the glowing sunset of evening with a sweetness that finally brought peace.

Shari placed the rose she held on the smooth casket. I'm going to miss you, Dad. Until we meet again in heaven... Her hand rested one last time on the polished wood and then she stepped away.

A chapter of her life was over.

It was a good night for a sniper, Marcus realized as he checked with the men securing the perimeter of the church property. They were running behind schedule and Marcus could feel the danger of that. Twilight was descending. In the dusk settling in the open areas around the church, around the clusters of towering oak trees, the shadows themselves spoke of hidden dangers.

The perimeter was tight, but there was a lot of open ground around this building. Marcus scanned the area as he headed to the side entrance leading into the sanctua With the lights on in the building and dusk turning to darkness outside, Shari was rapidly becoming a clear target. The building had too many glass windows and doors to keep her away from all of them as she mingled with the guests.

It was time to move.

Judging from the cars in the parking lot, there were still about thirty guests present. The governor and his wife had left not quite half an hour ago, and with them most of the remaining VIPs, reducing the security at the church to its lowest point for the day.

The press was being held at a distance at the entrance to the church grounds, but several were still there with their long camera lenses, hoping to get a picture or even a few words from those who had attended the private funeral.

Marcus raised Luke on the security net. "I'm changing the travel plans. We're going to take the family out the back entrance. Cue us up to leave in five minutes."

"Roger."

Shari, her mom, and Joshua were all near the front of the sanctuary talking with the minister and his wife. Marcus had been too occupied during the last hour to really look at Shari, an unfortunate reality that went with the job, it was everyone else who was the threat. He looked now and what he saw concerned him. She was folding. He could see it in the glazed fatigue, the lack of color in her face, the betraying fact Josh had noticed and now had his hand under her arm.

Definitely time to leave.

Marcus moved to join them and relieve Craig.

Shari saw him coming and broke off her conversation to join him. "Marcus, could-"

The window behind her exploded.

Shari heard someone gasp in pain and the next second Marcus swept out his right arm, caught her across the front of her chest at her collarbone, and took her feet right out from under her.

She felt herself falling backwards and it was a petrifying sensation. She couldn't get her hands back in time to break her fall and she hit hard, slamming against the floor, her back and neck taking the brunt of the impact. His arm was pressed tight across her collarbone, his hand gripping her shoulder. He wasn't letting her move even if she could.

"Shari-"

She couldn't respond her head was ringing so badly.

That had been a bullet.

She wheezed at that realization; her lungs feeling like they would explode. Around her people were screaming.

Another window shattered.

Oh, God, I don't want to die. I'm sorry forgetting angr) with You. Help me[ Marcus yanked her across the floor with him out of the way. "South. Shooter to the south!"

She could hear him hollering on the security net, and it was like listening down a tunnel. Who was bleeding? Someone was bleeding, she could see it on his hand.

He swore. A firm hand settled on her face. She gasped.

His elbow had nearly broken her nose.

It was coming home to her now, very much home. Someone was trying to kill her.., again.

"Cover us! We're going out the back."

Shari felt herself being lifted, sandwiched between Quinn on one side, Marcus on the other. "mom!"

"Craig's got her. Go!"

Quinn grabbed her hand to propel her forward. She knew this church, and as they moved left past the music room she got her bearings well enough to realize where they were going and managed to take the stairs with good speed.

In the back of the church they exited into darkness, surprising Shari because there should be building lights on. A van was waiting. Shari found herself literally lifted inside, after her mom. She was dazed with the speed it was happening. Joshua was helped into the front seat. She hurriedly moved over on the bench as Marcus slid in beside her and the door slammed shut. Quinn stood outside the van and slapped the side door to let the driver know he was clear, and they immediately started to move.

As they turned the corner of the building the streetlight shown through the van windows and Shari saw the bright red blood. It was a brutal flashback. The shakes hit hard. She looked toward Marcus. And she panicked.

"You're hit!"

"It grazed me," Marcus replied forcefully, trying to get a look at her face. His left arm burned with fire as painful as getting hit directly, but he wasn't worried about himself. Shari was bleeding profusely, She was nearly frantic. "I'm okay, Shari." He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tight, absorbing the shakes. "I'm okay," he said deliberately She'd seen enough people bleed.

"Lean her head back," Beth urged. "And get pressure on that bleeding." She passed up what Kleenex she had left. Marcus looked back at Shari's mom, was relieved to see her color was still good.

He turned back to Shari. "Lower your hands, let me see." His own hands were shaking as he worked to stop the bleeding. Thank goodness it didn't look like her nose was broken.

"Was anyone else hurt?" she struggled to ask.

Great question. "Craig?"

Craig was already on the closed circuit radio. It took a minute to get an answer. "No one else was hit. Tactical is moving. They are getting the last guests safely out of the building."

"What about the shooter?" Joshua asked.

"Quinn's working it," Marcus replied, knowing it was too early to get an answer to that. He had seen the cold fury on his partner face. The shooter would likely be caught; he had to have known that, and still he had made the choice to try and kill Shari. Marcus felt a fear that went deep. They had to stop him tonight. The next time it might have a very different outcome.

They had already worked out contingencies for this; they were heading toward the Hanfords' house. They had established good security there before allowing the Hanfords to land in Virginia, and they didn't need another variable tonight. Marcus looked forward to the driver. "Luke, call ahead and get us a doctor at the house."

"Already done."

"Josh, how's that shoulder?"

"Pine."

Marcus glanced back toward the front of the van again. Not fine. If Josh had ripped those stitches...one problem at a time. "The press is going to be heavy at the house. News of what occurred will be out, and I wouldn't be surprised to see a television helicopter show up. So even after we stop, stay put until I clear you to move," he instructed.