"You've got a high tolerance for clutter."

"I would rather have a case solved, a bad guy caught, a standoff peacefully concluded. If the clutter bothers me before it does them, I pick it up.

Besides, you're smart. You could learn." "Like I can learn to tell directions?" "Well-that one might take some time."

"You're being generous. I think it's an impossible cause."

"How's the speech you were working on this afternoon coming along?"

She winced. "It's my nightmare of the month. I thought I was done with fiscal policy and it's back to haunt me."

"What's the problem?"

"John's legislation hit what I call the cement wall-the opposition in the senate finance committee. It's on its way to crashing and burning. So...the cycle starts all over again." She shook her head. "It doesn't help that I don't understand John's insistence on the positions he's taken. Personally, I would change the legislation. There's a compromise sitting there to be taken, but neither side wants to be the first to move to the middle."

"So why don't you just write the speech you think should be given and see what John thinks? Your strength is persuading someone to your point of view."

"I work for him. I'm supposed to be writing his speech, not mine." "So call it a proposal," Marcus replied. "He'll love it when he sees it." "You've got more faith than I do." "More confidence at least."

"Ouch. And I'd hate to let it be said that I ducked a challenge."

Shari crumpled page five of the speech, the sound sharp in the quiet kitchen, the paper yielding to the pressure of her hand as she pulled it in with her fingers and crushed it into the center of her palm. The words were too bold. She started writing again on the next sheet of notepaper. "What are you working on?"

"The proposal for John you talked me so sweetly into writing." She didn't bother to look up at Marcus; if she did she would never get her concentration back. It was I A.M. and she still had several hours of work to do. "It's not going well?"

She grimaced. "It's going fine. I just can't see John ever moving this far from his present position."

He pulled out a chair. "May I?"

He had shown her his sketch. She passed over the text. "It's still rough," she warned, nervous.

"lelax. What I've read of your stuff is good."

He took a seat and in doing so totally distracted her. Jeans, an old sweatshirt, barefoot. She forced herself not to stare. He started reading. "Okay if I make comments?"

She nodded and he reached for his pencil.

He made a few notes in the margins.

When he finished and got up, he squeezed her shoulder lightly. "Good job. I'll be back after rounds."

She nodded and accepted the pages of the speech.

She read his comments. The one at the bottom of the page left her stunned. Why aren't you running for office?

She spun around only to find with frustration that he had already left. Run for office. It was her lifelong dream. One her father had always supported for her future. It was like having someone suddenly shine a spotlight and illuminate a hope, long resting dormant.

She had to wait forty minutes for him to return. She heard him talking to Quinn in the front hall. Gathering her courage, she poured two mugs of coffee and went to join him. "Thanks." "All quiet?"

"All quiet," he assured.

He nodded to the living room and waited for her to have a seat before he sat down nearby.

"Why did you say that? About running for office?"

"You're a good speech writer. But you're not going to be content there forever. You were made for something more."

"I've always dreamed of being a legislator in Washington someday." "So why aren't you? What are you waiting for?" "You need to be married to run for Congress."

He threw back his head and laughed. "Shari, that's a cop-out. You'd make a wonderful representative. I'd vote for you. Go for it."

"It takes money."

"No. It takes friends. And those you've got." The warm smile hit her in a wave.

"You're serious."

"Yes, Shari, I am. It's a dream. I'm not in favor of seeing dreams die." "You really think I could do it?"

"Think about it. You've got a work ethic that would put most people in the ground after a day. You know the state of Virginial you know the issues inside out. You've got good political skills and the lolodex to match. What do you need that you don't already have?"

She wanted to seize the suggestion, found it incredible that he was so strongly in favor of the idea. Was he that different from Sam? Or didn't he see them having a relationship beyond friendship in the future so it didn't matter what her career was? She was suddenly not certain of anything. "I'll think about it."

She got to her feet. "You'll be up for a while?"

"Yes."

"I left the coffeepot on. I think I'm going to head to bed."

"Sweet dreams."

Shari nodded and walked toward her bedroom.

When she curled up in bed, she hugged her pillow and looked at the ceiling. Marcus had dug until he touched her heart, snugly wrapped inside her passion for work. What she did for John, what she dreamed of someday doing, it wasn't a job with her. It was how her heart beat. He had patiently found it and then watered it with a cluietly written note at the bottom of a speech.

The hard part was figuring out how much of it he had done deliberately and how much of it was simply Marcus being who he was. She wanted to read into it something profound and hope it was true. Her heart was involved. She wanted this to mean something profound. He had her heart in his hand. Did he even know that? She loved him.

Marcus believes ] can do it. The emotion was intense, the realization he was serious. To see that in his calm face, that confidence, it stunned her.

If l go for my dreams, do I lose a chance to have a future with him? He might not want a wife who is in politics. And I have to trust that someda3 he will change his mind and believe. I love him more than I do my dream. And I couldn't sa3 that with Sam.

Jesus, I want a future with Marcus, and I want a political career. Are You telling me both are now possibilities on the table?.

Tracking the private jet was only a matter of time and money and charm. Lucas had been a pilot since he was seventeen. He leased a piper cub and flew to New York, where he was just another pilot who liked to borrow a cup of coffee and chat. The private charter pilots and the maintenance crews liked to talk and they remembered planes like other guys remembered cars. Two weeks after Connor was arrested, Lucas had tracked the private jet the marshal had used back to Kentucky and from there west to Montana.

The chase was coming to an end. Lucas picked up the sniper rifle he had arranged to have modified, spent a day in the country sighting it, then he headed west.

Finding the plane they had used was a matter of searching the ranches in the corridor of the last known flight plan and locating the plane he sought. Most of the ranches had private airstrips, finding the right one was simply a matter of time. He found it on Wednesday, August 30.

He had changed planes, leasing from a private company the same plane the park service used to create their topographical maps. High-powered cameras mounted to the skids were recording every detail of the ranches far below. He flew high, straight, on a direct bearing to the next town, covering the airstrip and house in the morning, and that evening flew a straight return path mapping the approach roads, barns, and fence lines.

By morning the film was developed and tacked to the wall of the office he had rented. The hanger had been designed for privately flown twin engine Cessnas, not the larger business jets, and the tail numbers were visible through the open hanger doors.

The dry summer and fall would make the trek in by foot slow but not particularly difficult. The security perimeter they had established was obvious from the air. Interesting. He studied the pictures and was pleased. This was not going to be all that easy after all. The cops guarding Shari knew what they were doing. He had always appreciated a good adversa He picked up the phone. "I've found her."

"The secret grand jury panel convenes on Saturday, Kill her before it convenes."

Lucas hung up the phone with a flown. Saturday, He'd just found them and they were about to abandon this place and fly back to Virginia. Wonderful. He would have preferred to have more time. Still, it could be done.

He looked at the maps. They did give him options. He would prefer to avoid that perimeter around the house. If they were going to be leaving, that meant the airstrip would be back in play, He'd kill them at the airstrip. Kill them all so no one could interfere when he got up to walk away. He smiled. He might even borrow the plane. He could be in Canada before someone realized his witness had been killed.

Twenty.

T.

he dawn was brightening the sky. The trees around the ranch house were silhouettes against the blue sky. Marcus leaned his sketch pad against the corral fence as he sketched the nearby stand of oak trees with color pencils.

"Aren't you cold? It's chilly out here."

He glanced to his right. Shari's hair was tousled and her eyes still sleepy. She'd come to join him for a sunrisel Marcus didn't miss the significance of that. "Good morning. Hot coffee helps."

She moved to lean against the fence beside him. "The sketch is pretty." He was drawing the trees, determined to know each one in detail so he would know instinctively when something out there was wrong. There was no need to tell her that. "Thanks." He leaned over and softly kissed her good morning, wise enough to keep his hands full.

She leaned against him and kissed him back. "Nice."

"Hmm." She settled into silence beside him as he resumed his sketch. She seemed peaceful enough, but he noticed her hands were tight against the fence. "Bad dreams?"

"Vaguely."

"You want to talk about tomorrow and the grand jury testimony, the security arrangements we've made?"

"Not really."

She had been ducking the topic for a week. It made him uneasy, that absolute trust she was putting in him to keep her safe.

"I suppose I should go pack."

They weren't coming back here, and her disappointment with that was obvious in the way she had been dragging her feet in getting ready to leave. "A change in location is necessary, Shari." "I won't be seeing you as much."

"No," he said softly. I-Ie was tucking her away at Quantico, the academy, for the next several weeks. She would be living in the onsite housing with the next training class. An unusual move, but it was there or a military base. It would be hard for Lucas to reach her, that had to be the deciding factor. They would drive her there each evening after her grand jury testimony, and she would be living there full time after that until Lucas was located. Marcus would be around, but it would not be the same. I-Ie didn't like the idea any more than she did.

She sighed. "What time are Dave, tate, and Lisa arriving?"

"Shortly after 4 P.M. We'll fly out around 7 P.M." He wanted them arriving in the middle of the night.

"Okay. I'll be inside."

Marcus watched her walk back to the house. In the next twenty-four hours the danger to her life would escalate sharply. Lucas not appearing here during the last weeks had been a relief, but now it only coiled the fear Marcus felt tighter. Lucas might have chosen to spend all that time studying the courthouse, preparing to act there.

He looked back at the stand of trees, closed his drawing pad.

Jesus, I figured something out last night. He had begun to pray again early of a morning, cautiously, feeling out the words to reestablish what he had once had. It was a slow reconciliation. The anger of being abandoned as child-I didn't know where to direct my pain; You were near I knew I could hurt You, and I tried my best to do so. I rejected Your comfort.

You sent it an3,wa. You sent the O'Malleys. Only You could have figured out the combination that is this family. I'm coming to see that You never left me. But I've been trusting only myself for so long...

It's come down to crunch time. I need Lucas stopped. I can't do it on my own. I'm trusting You, Jesus. Not only with myself, but with Shari. Tell me what I need to do. I'm depending on You.

Marcus felt the buffeting wind as he stepped from the truck and watched the plane line up with the airstrip to land. The weather forecasters had been wrong. The storm front that had not been expected until late this evening was coming through much earlier. On the horizon the sky was dark and lightning could be seen.

Dave was the first one down the steps when the plane stopped. "We've been tracking the front with the on-board radar. We can still get out if we get the plane turned around and prepped cluickly, Get Shari and Quinn and go now. If we wait, we could be stuck until late tonight, assuming we can even get out."

Marcus turned to scan the sky again. Storms, weather. Was it just fanciful thinking to consider the weather change as a show of God hand? Shoving them out early, or telling him to wait?

Lucas saw the plane arrive. He had hiked in during the night and reached his chosen spot before dawn. The location was even better than he had hoped for: the slight rise in the land, the perspective below. He drew a bead down on the airstrip to watch this new development unfold.

He saw the men talking. In the crosshairs of the scope each man came close enough to touch. He recognized Marcus O'Malley from the newspaper photographs. The weather must have caught them by surprise.

He did not see Shari. But where Marcus was, Shari was not far away, He felt anticipation build inside. They would be leaving before the weather closed them in. This was it. His hands settled the rifle into stillness. He mentally began adjusting for the wind and distance. The first shot would go for the cop nearest to Shari, confirm his adjustments and remove the only person who could help her. Shari Hanford would be dead before the sound of the second shot reached them.

Marcus saw lightning flash to the south. Dave was right. They needed to move now. Once the storms arrived, there was no telling how long the rain would last. And the airstrip would have to be checked afterwards for tree limbs and other blown debris. That could put them leaving well after dark. And if for some reason they couldn't fly out, they risked the downpour from the storm cutting off the road by flash floods.

But he felt...clueasy...with the idea. He didn't want to move Shari out of the secure perimeter on this ranch until absolutely necessa Arriving in Virginia early was simply too dangerous. Lucas was out there somewhere...waiting.

He shook his head. "No. We wait it out."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure." His gut told him it was the safe thing to do. "Let's get Lisa and Kate to the house."

Lucas watched two pilots appear from the plane, start walking around doing their post-flight check. Two more passengers disembarked. The marshal talked briefly with the group. Lucas was surprised when they gathered up their belongings and moved to the waiting vehicles. They were going to the house.

They weren't leaving immediately? They had time to beat the storm front. He glanced at the darkening horizon, then back at the plane. The crew was preparing to move the plane into the hanger.

Wonderful. He was about to get wet.