 
Lost Memories

By Ruth Ann Hixson ****

Cover image by Ruth Ann Hixson
Copyright owned by Ruth Ann Hixson 2012

All rights reserved

Published at Smashwords by Ruth Ann Hixson

ISBN: 9781476000497

This ebook is fiction. The names and characters are not depictions of actual people. Any similarities are coincidental. Real locations are used in a fictional way.

This ebook is licensed for for your reading enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this ebook and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Coming soon:

### Chapter 1

Lt. Drew Ward hated getting called out at night but that went with the territory of being a homicide detective. He dressed hurriedly and pulled on his boots. Taking the stairs from his ninth-floor apartment, he went out the north entrance of the building to where his black Gran Cherokee was parked. Drew paid for two reserved parking spaces right outside the door for just this purpose.

He swung by the station to pick up Sgt. Karen Hall. When he arrived at the scene he found one cop dead on the street and another wounded in the patrol car. He went around to the passenger side of the vehicle and opened the door to find himself looking at a pistol pointed at his heart. His hand automatically went beneath his black leather jacket to his holstered gun. "NYPD! Put down the gun and raise your hands."

The girl crouching behind the blown airbag on the floor of the car complied. He carefully reached in and picked up the gun by its trigger guard and laid it on the roof of the car. Leaning in to grab both the girl's arms, he hauled her out of the car and cuffed her hands behind her back. "You have the right to remain silent. Use it."

Sgt. Karen Hall came around the car. "Watch where you're walking," he told her. "There's a blood trail here. Whoever was shot left his blood on the car door. Find a female uniform and tell her to take this little lady to the station and put her in an interrogation room. I'll talk to her as soon as I'm through here."

"What's she done?" Karen asked.

"Pointed a loaded gun at a police officer. That should be enough to hold her for a while. She's probably our only witness. Except Moore."

On the other side of the car, paramedics and EMT's were pulling Moore from the car. "He's lost a lot of blood," one of them said. "but he still has a pulse."

A CSI came around the car. "Did I hear someone say there's a blood trail over here?"

"On the window of the car, too. Maybe the girl shot the shooter. She had Moore's gun. I want a DNA ASAP." He shone his flashlight on the sidewalk to show the CSI where the blood trail was.

Drew went around to where Sgt. Thomas lay with the ME squatted down beside him. "What do you have, Doc?" Drew asked.

The ME indicated the gunshot wounds in the top of Thomas' head. "He was already down when the kill shots were made."

"Shots came from the alley." Drew responded. "I'll have someone try to find a back trail. The person who can tell me what happened is on her way back to the station and I'm going back to the station to talk to her. Karen, hitch a ride with a squad car to the hospital to find out about Moore. I need to talk to him as soon as he's able." He strode back to his Gran Cherokee and headed for the station.

The December sun painted the morning sky red. While stopped at a light, he ran his hand over his face feeling the stubble of beard. He hadn't gotten to sleep until past midnight and got called out early. He hadn't had time to shave. He pulled into the parking garage thankful he had a reserved spot.

He found Sylvia Klose and Clayton Eisler, the two officers who brought the girl to the station, in the break room with coffee, filling out reports. "Which room did you put her in?" Drew asked.

Sylvia looked up. "Number one. She asked for paper and pencils so I gave them to her. I thought perhaps she wanted to write down what happened. I cuffed her hands in front of her. I got her some water."

Drew got himself a coffee. "Klose, you're with me."

"My shift is almost over," she protested.

"You got something against overtime?"

"No. But the 'powers that be' do." She stood up to follow him.

"I don't interview women without a female officer present," he explained as they walked to the interrogation room. That precaution came as a result of an interrogation turned bad when he was still a junior officer in Nashville. That woman had thrown the tape recorder against the wall and then screamed her head off claiming police brutality.

Drew turned on the monitor to the camera in the room. The girl sat at the table totally engrossed in what she was putting on the paper.

Drew knew he cut an imposing figure. He stood six two, had black hair and his skin looked like he had a tan but it was because of his Native American ancestors. When he was sixteen he'd tried to figure out how much of his DNA was Native American and how much was European. The tangle of intermarriages made him give up in defeat. He knew his father was a crossbreed and his mother was white. Drew had his paternal grandmother's stunning blue eyes that seemed out of place with his dark complexion.

He unlocked the cuffs to free the girl's hands. Coffee in hand, he seated himself on the edge of the table. "Now I want you to tell me about what happened this morning starting with your name."

"The name I have given myself is Ellie Winter," she answered slowly.

"The name you gave yourself? What's your real name?"

"I don't know; I have amnesia. I can only remember what happened after I fell."

Drew's blue eyes narrowed as he looked her over. She seemed younger than she had at the crime scene. Her honey golden hair was cropped short, no more than an inch long. Looking closer he could discern the scar that told him she'd had recent brain surgery.

"Do you remember what happened this morning?"

She perked up at that. "Oh, yes. I don't have any problems with my new memories."

"Where are your coat and shoes?"

"I left them behind so I could run faster."

Ellie began her story. "It wasn't fifteen minutes after I got out of the truck..."

"Out of the truck?"

"Yes. I hitched a ride from Scranton with a truck driver. I'm trying to get to Boston."

"What's in Boston?"

"I don't know. But I feel I'll be safe in Boston. I think someone is trying to kill me." She continued on describing what happened. "He kept calling me Dana. I was scared so I ran."

All the time she talked, Ellie sketched. She gave her sketch to Drew. He frowned. "Is this supposed to be the shooter?"

She nodded. "It's how I remember him."

He passed the sketch to Sylvia. "Anyone you know?"

Sylvia studied it. "It looks like Wesley Morrison. We've arrested him several times for shoplifting. He's on parole for burglary."

"As a felon he can't have a gun. We can jail him for parole violation until we get the evidence to prove the murder. Do you know where he roosts?"

Sylvia picked up one of the pencils and wrote the address on the sketch. "He lives on the fifth floor of a walkup."

Drew took out his cell phone to call his partner. "Karen, what can you tell me about Moore?"

"He's still in surgery."

"I'll be by to pick you up in about fifteen minutes." He disconnected.

"I need to get to Boston," Ellie insisted.

"You aren't going anywhere until I can be sure you'll be safe. It's called protective custody. We're going to take you to a place where you'll be safe. I'll put Sergeant O'Connor on it. Meanwhile I have other police business to attend to."

Ellie made a sour face. "I really need to get to Boston."

"You are a witness to the murder of a cop. You aren't going anywhere until I say you can."

# Chapter 2

"She's just a kid," Drew explained to Karen. "She has amnesia but she can recall what she calls her 'new memories'." Drew filled Karen in on the information he had gleaned from Ellie.

"So where are we going?"

Drew reached inside his jacket and brought out a folded paper. "The kid drew this. Klose recognized him. We're going to try to find him. He's our shooter. That girl shot him but I don't know how bad. There isn't a big blood trail from the scene."

"Didn't CSI follow it?"

"Um-hum. It ended where he got picked up by someone. It's my guess he wasn't acting alone. Ellie said she saw another man get out of a car and start toward her. That's when she started running." He ran his hand over his straight black hair and glanced over at his partner.

Karen said, "His DNA and prints will be on file."

"Look at that sketch. He's wearing gloves. But his DNA should be in that blood spatter on the car door. Here we are. Hope you feel up to some exercise. Klose said it's on the fifth floor of a walk-up."

"He's holding the gun in his left hand."

"Yup. Klose confirmed he's a lefty."

After they climbed five flights of stairs, Drew rapped on the apartment door. "NYPD. Open up."

The woman who opened the door was very pregnant with a year-old baby on her hip. "Wes ain't here. He didn't come home last night."

"Mind if we look around?"

She stepped back. "I told you he ain't here. What's he done now?"

"Killed a police officer and put another in the hospital." Drew stepped past twin girls fussing over toys. "Do you mind?" He motioned toward the back of the apartment.

"Go ahead. Wes ain't got no gun. He said he had a job lined up that would get him some big bucks and we can move away and start over. He promised he would stay clean."

Drew came back. "He's not here."

"I told you that. How can I find out where he is?"

"If we find him, we'll tell him to call you."

"He can't call me. We couldn't pay our bill and they shut us off. Wes has one of those cheap cell phones, but he has it with him."

Drew gave her his card. "If he comes home please ask him to give himself up. It could go easier on him. By the way, he could be wounded. The girl who drew this sketch shot him." He showed her the paper. "This is your husband, isn't it?"

She stared at the drawing. "That's him."

Going down the stairs was easier then climbing them. "It must be hard on the boys who are in school," Drew commented when they were back in the car.

"How so?" Karen wondered.

"When they talk about what their parents do for a living, they have to say their father's a thief and their mother has babies so she can get a bigger welfare check."

"Are you that soured on women?"

He shrugged. "Once bitten, twice shy. I have a bad feeling about this. Whoever came after Ellie may try again. I had Hank put her in a safe place with a couple uniforms to guard her. I have to find out where she is. I have some more questions. Call O'Connor and ask where they stashed her."

Karen made the call. "He said she's in the apartment building where you live. One floor up."

Drew parked his Jeep Gran Cherokee in one of the two reserved spaces he paid for.

"I am not walking up ten flights of stairs," Karen asserted.

Drew looked over with a grin. "Good exercise. I do it all the time. We can take the elevator." Outside the apartment he pressed the door bell.

"Who is it?" came the call from inside.

"Ward."

Drew heard the locks turning and Marlon Olgivie opened the door with his pistol at the ready. "Come on in, Lieutenant. Miss Winter is sleeping right now. She said she was awake all night."

"Wake her. I need to talk to her."

When Ellie came to the living room Drew asked, "Ellie, where did you say you're from?"

"I...I don't know. I was living with Megan Winter in Billings. I don't know if that's where I'm from or if it's someplace else. I just don't know. I'm hungry. I haven't eaten since eight o'clock last night."

"What would you like to have? I can order it and have it brought to my apartment on the floor below." He looked at Marlon's brown face. "What do you want?"

"How about some fried chicken with sides? Enough to feed all three of us. They usually send along a free bottle of Coke."

Drew gave Karen his key card. "Order from my apartment and wait for delivery. I want to talk to Ellie." Drew sat on the couch with Ellie across from him. "Did anyone get her prints and DNA to try to trace her?"

"O'Connor did," said Roberto Salvador. "He gave them to the lab."

"Ellie, don't you remember anything from your past?" Drew asked. "Anything at all that might help find where you belong."

Ellie scrunched down in the overstuffed chair as if she'd like to disappear. Her plight touched Drew's heart.

"Just one thing. It will take me longer to tell it than it lasts. A brightly lit Christmas tree with a toy train running around it. A little boy is jumping up and down, clapping his hands and squealing with delight. That's all."

"What does he look like? What color hair?"

A frown puckered Ellie's forehead. "The same color as mine."

"What's he wearing?"

"Blue pajamas with red trim."

"Is he related to you? A brother, perhaps."

"I don't know. Dr. Fenton tried this with me. I try to pull out more and the thread breaks. It just isn't there anymore."

Tears filled her eyes. Beautiful eyes. Rust colored with amber and green flecks. Haunting eyes. "I get so upset when I try to force memories. It's like all these images are zipping through my mind but I can't slow them down enough to really see them. When I try I get a bad headache. I don't have my medicine anymore. And now Dr. Fenton's dead and I can't get anymore."

"He's dead?" Drew asked, "How do you know that?"

"She. Her first name is Olivia. I saw him shoot her. I went for my usual appointment and she came running from her office, yelling, 'Run, Ellie, run!' I heard him holler, 'Bitch.' There were two shots and she fell down. I ran away." She cocked her head to one side. "The shots weren't very loud. Like a sput. I know that means something but I can't remember what."

"Silencer," said Ogilvie.

Drew nodded just as the doorbell chimed. Salvador went to answer it. "Who is it?"

"Hall."

Karen carried in a bucket of chicken and sides to the dining table grabbed a piece for herself. "I didn't have any breakfast this morning."

"Neither did I." Drew helped himself. "I thought we might have a peaceful Christmas this year."

"There will be more than this before Christmas. Sometimes the holidays make people go off the deep end. Domestic disputes, robberies, shoplifting."

"We're Homicide. Remember?"

"Sometimes those things escalate into killings."

Drew made a sour face. "Don't I know it."

****

When he got back to the station, Drew went straight to Capt. Hallinan's office. Hallinan had an open door policy. If the door was open any cop could walk in to talk to the captain. Drew settled onto a green leather chair across from the captain.

Hallinan looked up from the papers he was reading. "I would guess you're here to give me the lowdown on Thomas's killer."

"You guess right." Drew grinned. "We need to call a press conference this afternoon, say around four o'clock." He withdrew a copy of the sketch Ellie made. "This is the man we're after. Wesley Morrison."

"Where'd you get this?"

"That girl who was in the patrol car. She drew it while I was questioning her."

"If we give it to the press we need to be sure of its accuracy."

"Klose recognized Morrison from it. And Morrison's wife said it looks like her husband. He wasn't home and she was worried about him. He's certainly graduated from petty shoplifting and burglary to murder." He frowned. "I just thought of something. Miss Winter said he wanted her to come with him. Maybe he was trying to abduct her instead of killing her. But she shot him with Moore's gun."

Matt Hallinan passed the sketch back to Drew. "I want one of these in every patrol car that leaves the station until we find him. This is good. Is she an artist?"

"She doesn't know. She has amnesia. She can only remember what's happened since her 'fall.' I'm going to call the Billings police department and try to find out about her."

"Billings, Montana?"

"Yup."

"How'd she end up in New York?"

"She was trying to get to Boston where she feels she'll be safe."

Drew gave the sketch to a uniformed officer. "Put this into the computer system so it goes out to every computer to every patrol car. Pull up Wesley Morrison's mug shot and add it to the corner. I need a hundred copies to pass out to the media. Have them on my desk by four o'clock." He strode to his desk and draped his black leather jacket over the back of his chair. After checking online for the number for the Billings Police, he placed the call.

"Billings Police Department," said a female voice. "How may I direct your call?"

"This is Lieutenant Drew Ward, NYPD..."

"New York?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'd like to talk to someone about Ellie Winter."

"I'll put you through to Sergeant Orren. One moment please."

The sergeant answered on the first ring. "Homicide, Orren speaking."

"Lieutenant Drew Ward, NYPD. I didn't expect to get homicide. I'm calling about a young lady who goes by the name of Ellie Winter."

"Didn't think our BOLO would get that far east."

"It didn't. I have Miss Winter in protective custody as a witness to a murder. One cop dead, another in the hospital. I want to know how much information you can give me about her."

"I want her for questioning about the murder of Dr. Olivia Fenton and the arson of her office. How the hell did she get that far east?"

"Same way almost everything moves across the country. She hitched rides with truckers. She said she's trying to get to Boston because she'll be safe there. But she can't tell me why she feels she'll be safe there."

"Real sad case, that one. Some hikers found her out in the wilds. She'd fallen or was pushed down a seventy-foot cliff. Hit her head on a rock. The doctor did a delicate operation to remove a hematoma. She was in a coma three weeks."

"Have you been able to get a fix on her real name? Who she is or where she's from?"

"Nope. Ran her fingerprints. They're blocked by the feds. About a week later this U.S. Marshal shows up and wants to take her into custody. She's in the witness protection program. It strikes me as a little strange that right after he shows up, Dr. Fenton is shot, her office burned and Ellie disappears. I went to see Megan Winter, the woman Ellie lived with, after Megan filed a missing person report because Ellie didn't come home after her appointment with Dr. Fenton. That made me really suspicious. Of course I don't have any evidence to prove that marshal had anything to do with Ellie's disappearance."

"But you have a gut feeling," Drew finished for him.

"I guess you could say that."

"Go with your gut. Did this marshal have a name?"

"Lewis Drumheller. Not likely to forget a name like that."

"Shit! He's not a marshal. He's FBI."

"He said he was a marshal and had the credentials to prove it."

"What's that son-of-a-bitch got to do with Ellie? Witness protection isn't under FBI's jurisdiction. I'm going to call Chuck Davidson and find out. Drumheller shouldn't be involved in Ellie's case."

"You know him?"

Drew could almost hear the sergeant grinning. "We've crossed paths a few times. The last time I told him to stay the hell out of my cases. I have a gut feeling that your murder case and mine are related and the string that connects them is Ellie Winter. I take it you never found out about where she's from."

"Nope. I know she didn't just drop out of the sky. And she wasn't dressed for being out in the mountains. She was dressed like she was going on a date. No sexual assault. Just the injuries from falling down that cliff. It's a good thing those hikers were there to see her fall. One of them is an EMT. They called it in by radio and got a chopper out there to air lift her to the hospital. If she'd laid out there very long she'd have died."

Drew said, "I have a name for you. Dana. Check the drivers licenses for Montana and surrounding states."

Orren finished for him, "And cross reference it with any missing person's reports. Where'd you come up with that name?"

"The man who was trying to kill her or kidnap her called her that. It's worth checking into. Do you think she killed Dr. Fenton?"

"Not the slightest suspicion. I just want to talk to her in case she saw something."

Drew gave him his cell phone number. "She saw something. She just told me about it a while ago. Call me around six this evening. I'll let you talk to her." Drew disconnected.

Drew sat at his desk trying to absorb everything Orren had told him. His conversation with Orren posed a slew of new questions. If someone was trying to abduct Ellie, how did they know she was in New York? Why would a New Yorker try to kidnap a girl who had just arrived in the city? Two murders nearly across the country from each other and Ellie Winter was present at both. Drumheller had told Orren that Ellie was in the witness protection. What was the reason?

The captain came by. "News conference at four in the conference room downstairs."

"I'll be there. Right now I'm going to the hospital to talk to Moore if he's able."

Drew's cell phone vibrated and he took it out and opened it. "Charlotte." He let it go to voice mail. It vibrated again when he got out of his SUV at the hospital. Charlotte again. He didn't have time to put up with his sister just then. She'd wait until he was ready to talk to her.

He walked up behind the nurse on duty and put his arm around her. "How's my favorite nurse?"

Jan Turnbaugh looked up at him and grinned. "How's the worst patient I ever had?"

"I'm here to see Sean Moore. What's his status and prognosis?"

"He's serious but stable. Prognosis good. He's in three. He may be a little groggy yet but he's awake."

He found Moore with the head of his bed raised enough for him to be in a reclining position. His left arm was bandaged and propped on a pillow. Drew held out his hand to Moore. "How's our rookie hero?"

Moore took his hand. "Not feeling very heroic right now."

"I won't bother you very long. Just came by to get a statement."

Sean looked puzzled. "I already gave a statement to that FBI agent."

"What FBI agent? This is NYPD's case. Not Drumheller, I hope."

"Yup," Sean returned.

"I'll have to give Chuck Davidson a call. I don't want Drumheller messing in my case. I'll never see anything of the statement you gave to him. You'll have to do it again." He turned on his tape recorder and laid it on the tray table.

Moore told him what happened.

"That girl probably saved your life. She used your gun to shoot the shooter." Drew turned off the tape recorder and put it in his pocket.

"Kill him?"

"No. He got away but I have Karen calling the hospital ER's to find out if he came in for treatment."

Sean grinned. "This isn't exactly how I planned to spend my first week on the force. It's going to take a long time for me to heal."

"You're going to have some very interesting scars." The bullet had gone through Moore's arm and hit a rib to be deflected and exited through his chest just above his left nipple. "You got a girl friend?"

"I'm engaged. Penny doesn't like my being a cop. I hope she doesn't break it off because I got shot."

"Some women can deal with it; some can't. Cops have a very high percentage rate of divorce."

"What about you?"

Drew nodded. "Long time ago. I get a little antsy when a woman starts talking marriage. I'll see you later."

His cell phone vibrated when he got back in his SUV. He opened it and looked at the name. Shoving aside the temptation to let it go to voice mail again, he pushed the talk button. "Yeah, Charlotte. What's your problem now?"

"I've been trying to reach you all day. I've left at least three messages."

Drew spotted a tall man in a tan trench coat entering the hospital. There was something familiar about the way he walked. "Gotta go, Charlotte." He disconnected. Getting out of the SUV he ran for the door. He entered the lobby in time to see Drumheller get into an elevator. He caught the next one over before the doors closed. "Floor three," he told a woman standing by the buttons.

As he exited the elevator, he saw Drumheller enter Moore's room. There wasn't a doctor or nurse in sight. He could hear a tumult of voices in the next room. Apparently that patient flatlined. Staying close to the wall, Drew eased along the corridor until he could see inside Moore's room.

Drumheller held the oxygen line crimped shut. ''I want to know about Dana Terrell, the girl you were trying to protect when you got wounded. I want to know where she is."

Moore responded, "That doesn't matter. I can breathe without that oxygen. I don't know any Dana Terrell."

Drumheller pushed the button on the morphine dispenser. "You know what too much of this stuff can do to you?"

"It's timed so I can't OD on it," Moore informed him.

Drumheller took a syringe from his coat pocket. "I brought a little extra just in case. You know just a little bit too much."

Moore reached inside his hospital gown and loosened one of the leads hooked up to the monitor to set off an alarm.

Drew pulled out his pistol just as nurse Jan Turnbaugh came into the hall. Drew put his finger to his lips for silence and motioned for her to approach close to the wall. As soon as she was close enough, Drew went in. "Put down the syringe and step back or I'll shoot you where you stand."

Drumheller laid the syringe on the tray table and stepped back with his hands in the air. "You can't get away with this. I'm an FBI agent. That girl is in the witness protection program."

"I don't care if your God's right hand man. You threatened to kill a cop. As for that young lady, right now she's in my witness protection program. Back off!"

"Who are they going to believe?"

Drew nodded toward Jan. "I have a witness. Jan get a glove on and put that syringe in my coat pocket. Lew, you'd better hope that it doesn't contain morphine or I'll lock you up and throw away the key. Now get the hell out of here and don't come back. I'm going to call your boss and file a complaint. I told you before to stop meddling in my cases. I meant it."

Drew took out his cell phone. "You can't use that in here," Jan reminded him.

"I need to call headquarters to get a guard posted on Moore's room. If you even see Drumheller in this hospital other than as a patient, call me." He gave her his cell phone number.

Moore was losing consciousness. He said groggily, "He said the girl's name is Da...na..." He drifted off to sleep.

# Chapter 3

"Where the hell are you?" Matt Hallinan yelled into his phone. "The press conference is due to start in fifteen minutes."

"I'm in the hospital parking lot. I had to wait for the guard for Moore's room to get here. I'll try to make it in time but you know how traffic can be this time of day." Drew stepped back so the woman parked next to him could back out of the stall. "I don't know if Drumheller was trying to kill him or just trying to scare him. I won't know that until I know what's in this syringe."

"Did you arrest him?"

"No. I'm going to give him enough rope to hang himself. It would be difficult to pin anything on an FBI special..."

Hallinan heard a grunt and a clatter. "Drew! Drew! What happened?"

The cell phone was switched off.

An hour later Drew sat on a gurney in the ER trying to talk the doctor out of admitting him. "I'll be all right if I can get someone to take me home."

"You have a concussion," the doctor argued. "Do you have anyone living with you?"

"I'll be okay. Just tell Sergeant O'Conner to get his ass in here." Drew got a little dizzy when he stood up.

"If you insist on going home you must sign a paper that, against the doctor's wishes, you decided to check yourself out. If you can't listen to me, I refuse to be held responsible."

"Tryin' to give 'em a hard time?" Hank asked in his Texas twang.

"I've got to get out of here. What time is it?"

"Five o'clock."

"Good. Take me somewhere that I can pick up supper for three people. I'm supposed to be at the apartment where they're guarding Ellie."

"You shouldn't be working with a concussion," Hank objected.

Drew shot him a sour look. "Don't tell me how to do my job. Bastards took my three hundred dollar coat and boots. And there are two more guns on the street. Where's your shadow?"

"Bailey stayed at the crime scene to secure it until the CSI team gets there. Take my tape recorder from the glove box an' give me a statement as to what happened."

Drew withdrew the recorder and turned it on. "I was talking to Captain Hallinan on my phone when someone came up behind me and hit me on the head. They have my ID, my badge, my guns, my money, my wallet with all my credit cards, my leather coat and even my boots. Even stole my Jeep. But most importantly they have my tape recorder and a syringe that are evidence. Even if we get them back the defense can claim they were contaminated. End of statement." He put the recorder back where he got it. "Do you have twenty bucks to lend me until I get home? I need to pay for supper."

Hank opened his cell to order subs. "And ice cream, chips and soda," Drew said.

"What kind?" Hank asked.

"Hell, I don't care. Whatever. I need the things that were stolen. They ought to be able to find my car and cell phone by GPS."

"We'll find them, "Hank promised.

Olgivie was waiting to leave when Drew arrived at the apartment. A young woman sat on the sofa with Ellie. She stood up when Drew walked in and set the bag with supper on the dining table at one end of the long room.

"Supper's here," Drew said.

"I'm Rachel O'Toole. I'm usually with the Narc squad but I got pulled for guard duty. I'm between assignments anyway." She could easily pass for sixteen but Drew knew she had to be older than that. Her short blonde hair had a silver streak running through it and her clothes were typical teen dress, jeans, sweatshirt and sneakers.

"I have to make a phone call before I eat. May I borrow your cell phone?"

She pulled the cell from her jeans pocket. "Where's your phone?"

"I got mugged. Bastards took everything. They conked me on the head."

Drew punched in the area code for a Tennessee number. "What the hell do you want, Charlotte?"

"How dare you talk to me like that?" his sister demanded.

"Look, I got hit on the head and I have one hell of a headache. I got mugged."

"So Super Cop is human after all," Charlotte laughed.

"It's not funny. What do you want?"

"You're going to have to take care of Mama."

"How the hell can I do that? I have a one bedroom apartment. Can't you put her in one of the those assisted living facilities?"

"No. Reese got transferred to Geneva, Switzerland, and the kids and I are going along. I'm sure they have assisted living facilities in New York."

Drew swiped his hand across his hair. "How soon is this going to happen?"

"Our plane is scheduled to land at LaGuardia at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Can you pick us up at the airport?"

"No. The son-of-a-bitch that mugged me stole my car, too. How many people are we talking about?"

"Reese, me, Adrian, Bridget, Andrea, Mama and Jenny. You know Mama can't go anywhere without Jenny. She and Jenny grew up together. Jenny's been her maid since they were fifteen."

"What about finances?"

"Mama still has that trust fund. Reese has the paperwork all ready for you to sign to take over as trustee. The money has already been transferred to a New York bank. The rest is up to you."

"You caught me at a bad time. I'm up to my eyebrows in a case."

"Is that more important than your own mother?"

"No. A cop was killed and another is in the hospital. To make things worse, I got a witness who can't remember her name. I'll call to have a limo pick you up at the airport but you'll have to pick up the tab. I'll need your credit card number. I have to report my credit cards stolen." Drew wrote down the number she gave him. "Call me when you get in."

"How can I do that if you don't have a phone?"

"Shit. Where will you be staying?"

"At the Hilton. I expect you to have dinner with us tomorrow night so we can discuss everything."

"Don't get your expectations too high. I'm still a working cop. Dad disinherited me." He hung up and walked over to the table. "I'm starved. All I had yet today was a piece of chicken and coffee."

"Family problems?" asked O'Toole.

"My sister. Her money bags husband got transferred to Switzerland and she tells me I have to take care of Mama. I can't leave Mama alone. She has Alzheimer's. I'll have to call around to find an assisted living facility that can admit her and her maid. As if I don't have enough to do."

"When is she arriving?"

"Tomorrow. It's not that I don't want to take care of my mother. It's just that I don't have time and space. Mama has a trust fund to live on. It was my father's way to make sure I didn't get any money after he disinherited me. The irony of it is that my money bags brother-in-law is going to take me into the trusteeship so he can trot off to Europe."

When their meal was over, Drew said, "I have calls to make if you will let me use your cell. Calls concerning the case." He went into the bedroom and closed the door.

Drew turned on the bedside lamp and lay down on the bed. Glad that the knock on his head didn't affect his memory, he keyed the number for the Billings police department. "Is Sergeant Orren still in?" he asked the man who answered.

"That depends on who's callin'?"

"Lieutenant Ward from NYPD."

"He's in. I'll put you through."

"I was just trying to call you but your cell phone's turned off."

"I got mugged. How did you make out trying to find Dana?"

"I got more than two hundred Danas so far. None of them reported missing. I'm still waiting for Washington to respond."

"Will a last name help?"

"Damn right!"

"Dana Terrell. Drumheller let it slip when he didn't know I was listening. He went into the hospital and tried to make Moore OD on morphine. I think he's afraid that Moore knows something that can put him in jail. I got the syringe he had but I got mugged. The son-of-a-bitch even took my coat and vehicle. And it seems to be more than a coincidence that it happened in a hospital parking lot where there were people coming and going."

"You think Drumheller had something to do with it." It was not a question.

"I had a syringe and a recording that may not have put him in jail but it might have gotten him kicked out of the FBI."

"This case has Drumheller written all over it," Orren said.

"Thank you. I've been told that I'm obsessing about Drumheller. It makes me feel good that someone who doesn't know him that well feels the same way I do. Do you still want to talk to Ellie, aka Dana?"

"Sure. I'd like to know what she knows about Dr. Fenton's murder."

"Hold on a minute until I get her." He went to the living room and called Ellie from the kitchen. "Sergeant Orren wants to talk to you." Drew put the phone on speaker. "Just talk he'll be able to hear you." He wanted to be sure he heard both sides of the conversation.

Ellie described in detail what had transpired the afternoon she went to see the psychiatrist. She finished with a request. "Will you please tell Meg I'm okay? I don't want her to worry."

"Will do. Drew, unless you have something to add, I have some work to do."

"Let me know what you find out. Send me an email." Drew gave his email address and disconnected. He stood up. "Bathroom. I'll only be a minute."

Rachel stood up, too. "I'm going to get some ice cream and chips. Do you want some, Ellie?"

Ellie pointed to the window. "What's that red dot on the blind?"

"Laser!" Rachel yelled a split second before the window shattered and her head exploded. Blood and brain matter sprayed the front of Ellie's clothes. Her scream brought Drew on the run.

# Chapter 4

"Get down!" he hollered as he dove taking Ellie down with him. "Stay put." He seized the cord to the floor lamp and jerked the plug from the receptacle. Rolling over, he grabbed Rachel's cell from the coffee table. "Officer down. Officer needs help. This is Lieutenant Ward. Officer O'Toole has been shot. She's dead. I want backup and a CSI unit ASAP. Have someone call me now."

Drew gave Rachel's cell number. Yanking Rachel's gun from her holster, he moved back to Ellie. The girl was curled up in a fetal position shaking and whimpering like a puppy. "Come on, Ellie. We've got to get to a more protected place."

She didn't respond to his order so he got an arm around her and pulled her along to a corner. "It will be okay, Ellie. They can't shoot through concrete walls."

She curled back into a fetal position, shaking and crying. "Help me."

"You're safe now, Ellie. I won't let anything happen to you." He caressed her fuzzy blonde hair.

"NYPD. Open up."

"Just a minute," Drew called back. He got up and opened the door as he switched on the light over the dining table.

Two men in SWAT gear came in, assault rifles at the ready. "We're in," one of them said. Drew knew he was talking to the team leader.

"I've got to get this girl to a secure location," Drew informed them. "My apartment is one floor down but I can't get in. Whoever mugged me has my key card."

"Anyone else here?" asked Rory Sampson.

"Just the dead woman. Her name is Rachel O'Toole. She's a cop."

Sampson opened the French doors leading to the balcony. "You have doors like this in your apartment?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of lock is on the door?"

"Same as here."

"Darren, go get a rope. I'll repel down and pick the lock, if that's okay with you, detective."

"Fine with me. Just let me know when you're in so I can bring her down." Drew was recovering from the adrenalin rush.

The doorbell chimed. "CSI," came the call.

"Come in, Stace. She's over there on the coffee table. Is the M.E. on his way?"

"Deputy." Stacey returned.

Darren came back with a rope and a safety harness. He looked at Drew. "I'm going to need your help to hold the rope."

"Be right there." Drew quietly gave Stacy the details. "I think he shot the wrong woman."

Stacey went to Dana. "It's okay, honey. I won't hurt you. I just need to look at your clothes." Stacy looked back at Drew. "I'm going to need her clothes."

"Wait until I get her down to my apartment where she can take them off and shower." Drew went out on the balcony to assist the SWAT team.

It was only a matter of minutes from the time Sampson went over the edge until he called back, "I'm in. By the time you get her down here, I'll have the door unlocked."

Drew went back to Ellie who was sitting up, wide eyed. She seemed calmer. "We need to go one floor down," he said.

She nodded and reached up her hand. He took it and pulled her to her feet. With his arm around her, he hurried her down the stairs with Darren following. Sampson was waiting in the doorway.

After she was showered and dressed in Drew's red plaid flannel shirt that came almost to her knees, Ellie came to the living room where Drew was engaged in a conversation with Deputy M.E. Eileen Summers. Ellie sat down on the couch, tucking a red, white and blue crocheted throw around her bare legs.

When Eileen left Drew sat down at the other end of the couch. "Does the name Dana Terrell mean anything to you?"

She shook her head. "Should it? Is that my real name?"

"Could be."

"How did you find that out?"

Drew ignored her question and asked one of his own. "Does the name Lewis Drumheller mean anything?"

A frown knit Ellie's brows. Her eyes widened and she began shaking. "I just remembered..." She began to weep. "Oh, my God!"

He slid over and put his arm around Ellie. "What is it, sweetheart? What do you remember?"

When she tried to tell him she was nearly incoherent. "Run...running. Falling."

"Post traumatic stress," was Drew's diagnosis. He'd studied psychology. It was his opinion that everyone who wore a badge should.

He grabbed Rachel's cell from the coffee table. "Come on, Sharon. Answer the phone." It went to voice mail. "Sharon, this is Drew. Call me back right away on my home phone. This is an emergency." He got up to get his home phone but detoured to answer the door.

"NYPD."

"Show your badge." Drew looked through the peephole. He opened the door to let in Sylvia Klose and Clay Eisler.

"We're here to take over guarding the girl," Clay explained. "You can go home now."

"I am home." Drew went back to sit beside Ellie and put his arm around her. "It's okay. You're safe here. I won't let anybody hurt you."

Fifteen minutes later his phone rang. He grabbed it from the coffee table and pushed the on button. "Took you long enough, Sharon."

"I don't generally take the phone in the shower with me. What's the big emergency?"

"I've got a girl here with post traumatic stress. She's really freaking out. She needs some medication. She's been off her meds for almost a week."

"What's the situation?"

"She's a witness I have in protective custody. She has post traumatic stress and amnesia. She said she just remembered something. Then she began shaking and crying." Drew was getting angry at having to explain. "Get your ass over here and see for yourself. She needs help now and I can't write a prescription for her."

"Okay. Give me time to get dressed. It'll be fifteen or twenty minutes. Can you manage that long?"

"No, but I don't have much choice, do I?" He ordered Sylvia, "Bring a towel from the kitchen before she soaks my shirt."

Drew really hadn't wanted to call Dr. Sharon Harper. He hadn't seen her since their breakup two months earlier. She wanted to get married and make babies; he didn't want a long-term committed relationship, so they split up.

He didn't know what Ellie was remembering but she began to fight him. Folding his arms around her tightly, he pulled her onto his lap and held her as still as he could. "Come on, Sharon."

The doorbell sounded and Sylvia went to answer it. "Who is it?"

"Dr. Harper." Sylvia opened the door and let her in. She went straight to where Drew sat on the couch. "What's her name?"

"Hell, I don't know. Ellie, Dana. Take your pick. Try Ellie."

"Ellie, this is Dr. Harper. What's the matter?"

Ellie writhed in Drew's arms trying to free herself. "Make him stop! Please let me go!"

"Let her go, Drew," Sharon commanded.

As soon as Drew released her, Ellie sprang to her feet. She turned round and round in the living room holding her hands to her head. "Where am I? Somebody help me!"

Sylvia put her arm around her shoulder. "Calm down, honey. We're just trying to help you."

Sharon took a syringe from her bag along with a band-aid and a foil pack containing an alcohol pad. "Come over here and sit down, Ellie. I have something that will make you feel better."

As soon as Ellie saw the needle she screamed, "No! No! That's what they did to me before. You're helping them!" She whirled around and headed for the kitchen where Eisler sat on a stool.

"Catch her and bring her back," Drew ordered Eisler. Drew got up to take control of Ellie.

"Bring her over here and sit down with her on your lap. Hold her good and tight. I hope we aren't making a mistake by using force. Do you know if she's over eighteen?"

"I don't know." Drew spoke softly. "It's all right, sweetheart. I'm not going to hurt you." He carried her kicking and flailing to sit on the couch. He finally got her arms pinned down. "Hold her legs, Sylvia. Make it quick, Sharon."

Sharon swabbed a small patch of skin on Ellie's thigh. She popped in the needle and depressed the plunger. "All done. She should calm down in a couple minutes. It will make her sleep."

As Ellie's stopped struggling, he eased her off his lap to sit beside him. "Are you okay, Ellie?"

"You had no right." She was sobbing again.

"What did you remember?"

She thought about it several minutes. When she answered her words were slow. "I was running. Then I fell down a steep hill."

Sharon squatted down in front of her and took her hands. "What kind of day is it?"

"I just remember falling. The next thing I remember is when I woke up in the hospital. Can I go to sleep now?"

"You certainly may," Sharon told her. She helped Ellie to her feet.

Drew paced the floor trying to put what Ellie told them in perspective. He wondered why she reacted like that to Drumheller's name. He would have to wait until tomorrow to find out if she still remembered. He was not good at waiting.

When Sharon and Sylvia came back to the living room, he reminded Sharon about needing a prescription.

"Do you know what she was taking?"

"No. She was seeing a Dr. Fenton but she's dead."

"Fenton? Olivia Fenton?"

"The same," Drew replied. "Do you know her?"

"I met her at a convention in Denver last year. She's from Billings, Montana. How does she fit into a case in New York?"

"Write the prescription and I'll explain it to you while you drive me to the drugstore to get it filled. Do you have any idea how much it will cost?"

"Plenty."

"Wait till I get dressed. They won't let me in the drugstore barefoot." He went to his desk where he opened a secret drawer and took out two keys. Behind the closed door of his bedroom he pulled up the red, black and white striped cloth over one of the bedside stands. He glanced at Ellie to be sure she was asleep. He changed to jeans and a blue plaid shirt. Then he unlocked his safe and pulled out an envelope from which he removed two hundred dollar bills. He closed the safe, locked it and put the bills in his shirt pocket.

Next he went to his gun safe and took out two guns: a Colt .45 in a western style gunbelt and holster and a .25 automatic. He belted on the forty-five and laid the .25 on his bed while he sat down to pull on socks and a pair of brown high-heeled boots.

He hadn't worn them in years. They were shiny on the side where they rubbed against the stirrups when he used to go riding on his grandparents' horse ranch. In those days, he was happiest when he was in the saddle. The Ward fortune was made in horses. Though his grandparents were gone and his father had disinherited him before he died, Drew still owned some of the horses on the ranch.

He went to the closet for his the brown leather jacket he had worn before he bought his new one. He put the .25 in his pocket before going to the living room to return the keys to the secret drawer in his desk. "I'm ready," he announced.

"Will you get some potato chips and ice cream?" Sylvia asked.

"What kind of ice cream?"

"Cookies and cream."

"I'm parked right out front," Sharon said as they started down the hall to the elevators.

He followed Sharon to her light blue BMW where he settled on the passenger seat. "You want to know about Ellie. I'll tell you what I know so far. You heard what she told us in there tonight. She was seeing Dr. Fenton to try to get her memory back. The last time she went to an appointment with Dr. Fenton, she was a witness to her murder. She ran. Hitched rides with truckers trying to get to Boston where she would be 'safe'. She left the last trucker here in New York. She was immediately followed and her pursuer attempted to kidnap her at gunpoint. She is the witness to the murder of one cop and the wounding of another. In addition to that, she used Moore's pistol to shoot the shooter. We're still looking for him.

"A short while ago, she was again the witness to the murder of another police officer. I think that was a case of mistaken identity. O'Toole is about the same size as Ellie. From a distance she would just be a shadow on the blinds. I don't know about all the details and probably won't until tomorrow. The poor kid's sure been through enough trauma."

Sharon pulled into a parking spot in the small lot beside the drugstore. "Drew, just so you know, there are likely to be more breakdowns like tonight as she remembers more."

"I'd like to know how Drumheller is involved. When I asked her if she knew him, she freaked out. I'll be back in a couple of minutes." He strode into the store and went directly to the pharmacy where he handed the woman behind the counter the prescription.

"It will be a few minutes."

"I've got to get some ice cream and chips." He was back to Sharon's car in five minutes.

"Park right here," Drew said and Sharon double parked blocking in an SUV. "Do you have something I can write on?" Drew asked Sharon. She pulled her prescription pad out of her bag along with a pen.

Drew got out of the car leaving the door open. He went around back of the Black SUV and wrote down the license number adding, U.S. Government. Stepping to the curb he noted what he already knew. The vehicle was blocking a fire hydrant. When he walked back around to the driver's side he knocked on the window. A sour-faced young man opened it.

"Let me see your ID," Drew ordered.

The agent showed his ID. "FBI."

"I can read. Now I want to see your driver's license. Blocking a fire hydrant is illegal." Drew wrote down his license number and his address. "You will receive a citation in the mail. A word of advice. The next time you're doing surveillance, don't use a vehicle that has U.S. Government on the license plate. And tell Drumheller he's pushing his luck. I'm going to file a formal complaint against him. Have a good night."

Drew tore off the top page of the prescription pad and stuck it in his jacket pocket before handing the pad and pen back to Sharon. "Have a good night." He was grinning with satisfaction when he got his bag with the prescription, ice cream and chips from the back seat.

"You're a most wanted man," Sylvia told him when she let him in. "You hadn't been gone two minutes when Sergeant O'Connor called. He wants you to call him back ASAP. Then Sergeant Orren from Billings called to say he sent you an e-mail and he's leaving for Spokane in the morning."

Drew set the bag on the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area. "Here's your ice cream and chips and Ellie's prescription. Drumheller's having us watched. I put the scoots under a couple of FBI agents. Be very, very careful who you let in."

He went to his desk for his phone and called up the directory for O'Connor's number. He hit the call button and waited while the phone rang.

"O'Connor."

"What's up, Hank?"

"We found your Jeep along with the guy that stole it. They're just taking his body out of it now."

"Shit!"

"That's what your Jeep smells like. As near as I can tell everything is here. Cell phone, badge, guns, jacket, wallet, boots. I'll get it back to you as soon as CSI can process it."

"In my jacket pockets there should be a syringe and a tape recorder. I want them back. They're evidence."

"Not here."

"That son-of-a-bitch! Drumheller must've been there and took them. That leaves me with circumstantial evidence that doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell."

"What's going on?"

"For your ears only." Drew filled him in on his suspicions that Drumheller was involved in the whole scheme of things, including the death of the man in his Jeep. "Find out the cause of death ASAP and let me know. I've got a hell of a headache and I'm dog tired. I'm going to try to sleep if this case will let me alone long enough."

"Word has it that O'Toole got it tonight."

"I think someone mistook her for Ellie. They're about the same size. What I'd like to know is how they knew Ellie was in that apartment."

"A leak in the department?"

"Possible. I'll see you tomorrow." Drew disconnected. That wasn't the only thing that was troubling Drew. He wondered how anyone knew Ellie was in NYC at the time she'd left the truck and how they already had someone to try to abduct her.

While Drew was on the phone, Sylvia scooped up three dishes of ice cream. She and Eisler were already eating when Drew went to the kitchen to take a bottle of Jack Daniels from the cupboard. He poured an old fashioned glass half full and used it to wash down two acetaminophen.

"You shouldn't be drinking with that concussion," Sylvia asserted.

"You want some?"

"Clay and I are on duty."

Drew sipped from the glass of amber liquid. "You said Orren sent me an e-mail. Did you look at it?"

"Not my laptop; not my apartment. I'll go get it for you." She went to the living room and returned with the laptop. While she sat down on the stool next to him to finish her ice cream and potato chips, he called up the e-mail.

"Interesting. Dana Terrell's driver's license. Sure enough is our Ellie. Her hair was long then and she wasn't so emaciated. Pretty girl. Birthday April 13. She's twenty-five. She certainly doesn't look that old. She's from Spokane, Washington. I like this eye color. Hazel. Her eyes are more like rust colored with flecks of amber and green."

He scrolled down to the message Orren had typed underneath. "I'm heading for Spokane first thing in the morning. I'll get back to you as soon as I know something. Keep an eye on Drumheller for me. I have a gut feeling he figures in my case and yours."

"My cases," Drew corrected. He was sure that the death of his mugger was no accident and that Drumheller was involved. The problem was he had no proof that would hold up in court. He wondered if Drumheller was involved in the shooting of Rachel. He grabbed Rachel's cell phone from the counter and called Hank back. "Do you have a home number for Chuck Davidson?"

"Why do you need that?"

"I'm going to shake the FBI's tree and see what falls out. I'm going to file a formal complaint against Drumheller for stalking. He had agents outside my apartment building watching me."

"I'll call you when I get back to the station. I don't have the number on me. Why don't you check into your own files on the internet?"

"Because I like to hear the sound of your voice. Just get the damn number and call me back." He decided on a dig for Hank. "I'm going to eat my ice cream and potato chips while I wait."

"Uh-ha. You just had to say that when I ain't had no supper." Drew knew the sergeant threw in "ain't" for emphasis. The Texan could speak proper English as good as anyone.

The phone rang six times before Davidson answered, grouchy from having his sleep interrupted. "What do you want, Ward?"

"To hear the sound of your melodious voice. Who's Drumheller's super?"

"Why?"

"I want to file a complaint against him."

"Why?"

"He's having me watched." Drew chuckled. "I'm going to send one of your agents a citation for blocking a fire hydrant."

"Does he have a name?"

"Michael Grove."

"I didn't approve that."

"I think Dumheller's gonna try to set me up. I'm a thorn in his side."

"You're a thorn in everybody's side. I'll find out what the hell's going on, but it will wait till morning. I'm going back to sleep." Chuck hung up.

# Chapter 5

A noise from the kitchen woke Drew. He lay still listening, not wanting to open his eyes. Eisler and Ellie aka Dana were in the kitchen with coffee talking sotto voice. Drew grabbed his jeans and headed for the bathroom. After he was properly clad in more than his underwear, he returned to the kitchen. "Why are you up to so early?" He asked Dana.

"Early? It's going on eight o'clock. I thought I'd make breakfast. I can't just lie around feeling sorry for myself."

"Have fun. I'm going to get a shower and shave. I need to get to work and find out what they learned about O'Toole's murder. I need to find out about that mugger, too."

Dana decided to make pancakes. She had all her ingredients when, all at once, it seemed like the whole world was spinning. Images paraded around and around in her mind. They didn't zip through like they had before but stayed long enough for her to recognize them.

However, they weren't in chronological order. She was playing hopscotch on a concrete walk; she lay on the beach on Cape Cod with a man beside her; she danced at her senior prom. The image that had plagued her dreams came to the fore: two men with smoking guns. Only this time, she saw the results of their gunshots. Two people, a man and a woman, lay dead on the floor as blood spread across an oriental carpet.

She wasn't supposed to be there. One of the men looked up to the second floor landing where she stood. He raised his gun. She turned and fled. Then she was feeling her way down a dark, narrow stairway. The image changed to one where she was driving through a cold, dark night, the windshield wipers slashing through the pouring rain.

The images speeded up, around and around they went making her feel nauseated. She clung to the edge of the polished stainless steel sink.

"What's wrong?" Eisler asked, jumping to his feet.

She began retching but she hadn't eaten yet and all that came up was a yellowish liquid. Dizziness overwhelmed her as she sank to the floor.

Eisler knelt beside her. "Ellie?"

She clutched his uniform sleeve. Sitting didn't stop the whirlwind of memories. "Oh, Lord, please make it stop." She slipped into a pool of blackness. Eisler lifted her and carried her to the couch.

Drew whistled as he showered and shaved. It felt so good to be clean. It felt so good to think about Ellie. Dana, he mentally corrected. He thought about the picture of her on her driver's license: the long blond curls and the smiling lips. Hers was one of the few driver's license photos that actually looked good. He thought of those eyes that defied description. He washed his whiskers down the drain and started for the bathroom door when he realized his mistake. He hadn't brought clean clothes into the bathroom with him.

He was used to living alone. Maybe if he was very quiet he could get dressed without waking Sylvia. She had lain down with Dana and had fallen asleep. Drew wrapped a towel around himself and slipped into the bedroom. Sylvia had her back turned. But he would have to cross the room to the dresser to get his shorts, tee shirt and socks. His bare feet made no sound on the thick burgundy carpet but he knew he couldn't open the dresser drawers quietly. The dresser was more than a hundred and fifty years old and the drawer that held his shorts squeaked.

He cautiously eased the drawer open just far enough to slip his hand in to grasp the soft white cotton. Leaving the drawer open he pulled on the shorts. He left out a deep breath.

Just then Eisler rapped on the bedroom door. "Ellie fainted."

"Be there in a minute," Drew called back. He heard Sylvia sit up and yawn.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Ellie fainted." Drew held the towel in front of himself. "Get out of here so I can get dressed."

When he emerged from the bedroom in jeans and a white tee shirt, he grabbed the phone. He leaned over Dana and opened one of her eyes. He shook her. She didn't respond. Calm down, he told himself. He was no help to her if he panicked. Besides, Lieutenant Drew Ward never panicked. He just got mad. He felt for her pulse. It was strong but a little fast.

Sylvia asked, "What happened?"

"I don't know." Eisler answered. "She was going to make breakfast. All at once she puked in the sink and then she fainted."

Drew laid his hand on Dana's rib cage. "Her breathing's normal." He keyed Sharon's number into the phone. She answered immediately.

"This is Drew. How fast can you get here?"

"What's wrong?"

He explained about Dana. "I can't wake her."

"I was on my way to the office so it will only be a few minutes if this traffic ever starts moving again. Some jerk can't read the No Left Turn sign."

Ten long minutes later she pressed the button to the doorbell. Sylvia rushed to open the door. "Come on in, Dr. Harper." She stepped aside so Sharon could go to the couch.

Drew sat on the coffee table holding Dana's hand. "I don't know what happened. She said she was going to make breakfast so I went to take a shower. Then Eisler knocked on the bedroom door and said she fainted."

Sharon dug a small flashlight from her bag and shone it on Dana's eyes. "Her pupils contracted so she isn't completely non-responsive. We need to get her to a hospital fast. She needs an MRI to find out if something's happened to her brain where she was injured."

Drew was already pulling on his boots. "Sylvia, you're on guard duty as of now. Clay, stay here for when the day shift arrives." He went to the closet to get a for his leather jacket. "I'll carry her down to your car. Closest ER." He wrapped the crocheted throw around Dana and lifted her from the couch.

They were in the elevator when Sylvia's cell rang. She took it from her pocket and flipped it open. "Yeah, Karen."

"Let me talk to Drew."

"He has both hands full right now." She explained about Dana.

"Put the phone on speaker," Karen ordered. Sylvia complied.

"Drew, they found Wesley Morrison. He's dead. I'll pick you up on the way." She disconnected.

Since when did his sergeant tell him what to do? Drew's temper cooled quicker than it heated. Karen was right. He was a cop. When he was called it was his duty to respond. "You'll have to go to the hospital without me. They found Morrison. Karen is picking me up. It's up to you, Sylvia. Don't let anybody other than medical personnel even get close to her."

While Sharon went around to the driver's side of her BMW, Sylvia opened the passenger side back door for Drew to put Dana on the seat and strap her into the seat belt. Drew stepped out on the street to stop traffic so Sharon could pull away from the curb.

The driver of the car he stopped, yelled, "Get out of the way, you freakin' stupid jerk."

Drew walked to the car's open window. "NYPD. If you don't mind your manners, I'll yank you out of that car and arrest your ass." He then stepped back to let the driver go on.

Karen was two cars back and Drew jumped in as soon as she stopped. He settled onto the seat and buckled up. "Have you heard anything about O'Toole's murder last night?"

"Nothing new. How about your mugger?"

"They found him dead in my Jeep. Everything was there but my recorder and the syringe Drumheller had. What can you tell me about Morrison?"

"For starters, he's dead. Possible suicide which I think is a bunch of hooey. He had plans for the future. He had a wife and kids. He had every reason to go on living."

"He killed a cop. That could get him life without parole. Maybe he decided to take the easy way out."

"Maybe. I want to look at the scene first," Karen declared.

"So do I. Especially if the guy that mugged me last night was his accomplice. It would be too much of a coincidence that both died the same night. Sounds more like someone cutting off the loose ends. We'll see."

Karen parked her station wagon in front of the door to a yellow metal-sided warehouse. A young officer stood beside the door. "This is a crime scene," he informed them. "I'm not supposed to let anyone in but police personnel."

"I'm Lieutenant Drew Ward of homicide and this is Sergeant Hall."

"Let me see your badge."

"I don't have it because it was stolen yesterday."

"Then I can't let you in."

Karen showed him her badge. "He's who he says he is."

"Okay. I'm just doing what I was told."

Drew looked at his name tag. "Keep up the good work, Officer Lawson."

Drew stopped inside the door to look over the scene. Officer Terri Sylvan stood talking to two men. She was nearly as tall as his six, two and had a velvety soft brown complexion. Drew had asked her out once but she said she already had a partner living with her. The partner's name was Brittany. Drew thought, What a waste of a perfect female body.

"Karen, go talk to those men over there with Sylvan. They're probably the ones who found the victim." He walked back to where the M.E. was looking over the body.

"Possibly a suicide," he said to Drew.

Drew walked around the body that lay on a stack of old pallets. Something seemed out of place. "The blood and brain matter's spatter pattern is not consistent. There's more on this side than the other." Then it hit him what was out of place. "Why would a left-handed man use his right hand to shoot himself especially since his right arm is wounded?"

"I got brain matter over here!" Smokey Behr yelled near an exit in the far end of the building.

Drew strode back to where Smokey was leaned down studying the concrete floor. "There's no way the spatter reached all the way back here."

Smokey put down a yellow number marker and took a picture. "Looks like someone took off a pair of coveralls here."

"Good job, Smokey. See if you can find anything outside. Footprints or car tracks. Anything."

Drew walked back to where Karen was talking to the two men. He held out his hand and introduced himself. "How did you find him?"

"I'm Donald Connards. I own this building. I was showing it to Mr. Geiswite here when we found him. We didn't touch anything but called the police right away. How long will this take? I'd like to close this sale as soon as possible."

"This is a crime scene, Mr. Connards. We'll let you know as soon as we're finished."

"A crime scene. The bastard committed suicide."

"No, sir. He was murdered."

# Chapter 6

"Answer that," Karen ordered as she passed her cell phone to Drew.

He flipped it open and said, "Yeah, Sylvia."

"Dana's all right. They couldn't find anything wrong but they guess the images passing through her mind so fast gave her motion sickness and she passed out. She's beginning to remember all at once and her mind can't process it all. The doctor said to take her home and let her sort through it all. He gave her a shot and said to get her some motion sickness medicine.

"Dr. Harper had to go to her office so I'll have to call a cab to take us to your place."

"Stay where you are. We'll pick you up." He motioned to Karen. "ER. We'll be right there, Sylvia. Stay in the waiting room until I come in for you."

"Okay." She disconnected.

Drew snapped the cell phone shut and handed it back to Karen. "You know, I've been thinking."

"You're always thinking. That's what gets you in trouble."

He chuckled. "Seriously. I've been thinking about sending some flowers to that little old lady who reported about me lying out there in the parking lot. I wonder if anyone got her name and address."

It didn't surprise Karen that Drew wanted to send flowers. Beneath that touch cop exterior was a true southern gentleman. Unfortunately, his ex-wife's betrayal left him a bitter cynic when it came to women. Karen didn't know the details but she knew that was what drove him from Nashville to New York.

She stopped at the front entrance to let him out while she drove around back to the ER. Sylvia and Dana were in the waiting room. As soon as she entered they came to her. "Where's Drew?" Sylvia asked.

Dana now wore a pair of slipper socks on her feet and hospital pajama pants. She still wore Drew's shirt and had the crocheted throw wrapped around her.

"He had a little business to attend to at the front desk."

Drew was waiting when she stopped to pick him up. All he said when he parked himself on the front seat was, "Got it." Then he turned to look in the back. "How are you feeling, Dana?"

"A little groggy from that shot the doctor gave me. I'm remembering a whole bunch of stuff all at once, but it's not in order. I need to take the time to sort through it and straighten it out. Right now I'm very hungry. I was making pancakes when everything hit me. It was like nothing I've ever experienced before."

"We picked up a tail," Karen said. "Blue sedan." She made a quick right.

"Dana, get down. Just to be on the safe side." Drew put his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out his .25 automatic."

"Where'd you get that pea shooter?" Karen asked.

"It's legal. I got a permit to carry it. Both my guns were stolen yesterday. CSI has them but I have to wait till they're through with them. I didn't take time to get my Colt .45 when we left. I didn't know I'd be going to be on duty at that time. I got my backup. Turn left here."

Karen had to stop to wait for the light. Drew took the opportunity to look back through her station wagon. "Two men with sunglasses on. Something familiar..."

The light changed and Karen turned left. The blue sedan followed.

"Pull off here." Drew said.

Karen guided the car into a parking space and the blue sedan passed.

"The two FBI agents who were watching last night. I wonder..."

"When you start wondering, things start happening," Karen asserted as she guided her car back into traffic.

Drew grabbed her cell phone and punched in a number. "This is Lieutenant Drew Ward, NYPD Homicide. Put me through to Chuck Davidson."

"Agent Davidson is in a meeting."

"Put me through or I'm going to come down there in person."

A few minutes later, Chuck came on the phone. "I want to know why I'm being tailed by FBI agents," Drew demanded.

"This is nothing I know about. Are you sure they're FBI agents?"

"Same two that were watching me last night. Quit dancing around the truth. Did you find out who Drumheller's boss is?"

"Walter Nolan. He told me Drumheller's on vacation in the Bahamas."

"That's strange because I just saw him yesterday."

"Maybe he got on a wrong flight," Chuck answered.

"Don't stonewall me, Chuck. I didn't fall off the potato wagon yesterday. If I'm being investigated for whatever reason, I want to know. Whatever it is, Drumheller's up to his eyebrows in it and I want to know what he's up to." He disconnected as Karen pulled into a parking space in front of Drew's apartment building.

"Guns out, ladies. I'll go in first. Karen, you go with Dana. Sylvia, bring up the rear. Keep your eyes peeled. We want to make this quick and easy." Drew got out and stood beside the car until Karen and Sylvia came around. Then he opened the door for Dana.

With guns drawn, they hustled Dana through the door and into the elevator. When the door opened again, Drew stepped into the hall to look around. "Clear." He strode along the corridor to his own door where he inserted his spare key card into the lock mechanism. He opened the door. "In!" he ordered the three women.

Drew followed them in and locked the door. "Where'd everybody go?" he asked two uniformed police officers.

"Bathroom," Kirk Lachlan answered.

Karen came from the bedroom. "The line to use the bathroom is in there. Is there anything to eat?"

Drew pointed to the kitchen before going to the bedroom just as Dana came from the bathroom. After he took his turn, he came to the kitchen with his Colt .45 strapped on. Karen sat on a stool with a mug of coffee. Drew took down a travel mug and filled it with coffee. "Let's go."

Karen drained her mug. "Where are we going now?"

"To inform Mrs. Morrison she's a widow. Kirk, don't let anyone in except me or Karen."

Sylvia asked, "Do you mind if I crash on your bed? I'm officially off duty now."

Drew nodded and waved as they went out the door. Karen drove to the apartment building where the Morrisons lived. "You mean I have to walk up five flights of stairs again.

Drew grinned. "It's good exercise. Keeps you in tone."

He rapped on the Morrison apartment door. "NYPD. Open up."

Danielle Morrison opened the door with the baby on her hip again. Drew wondered if he was a permanent fixture for answering the door.

"Let Karen have the baby," Drew said softly.

Danielle's eyes widened with fear and realization but she surrendered her son to Karen. "Wes?"

"We found him," Drew replied. "He's dead."

Her facial expression was washed away in a rush of tears. Drew stepped across the threshold and enfolded her in his arms and held her rocking her back and forth like one would a baby. With an arm still around her, he led her to the couch where he set her down and squatted down before her holding her hands.

"How?" she whispered.

"Gunshot wound to his head."

"Someone murdered him?"

"We're still investigating. It could have been self-inflicted."

"No!" she cried. "Wes would never do that. He loves his kids too much. He couldn't..."

"We must examine all possibilities. Is there someone who can come and stay with you?"

"My...my sister. I can't call her though. We couldn't pay our bill..."

Drew handed her his cell phone. When she was through she handed it back. "She's coming but it will be a while. She lives in Binghamton with our mother." She was beginning to get control of her emotions. "When will they release his body?"

"After the autopsy. I suppose you don't have the means to have him buried."

She shook her head. "I don't even have a clue of how to go about it."

"Cremation is the least expensive. If you want, I can make the arrangements."

"Do I have to stay in the city or can I move to Binghamton with my mother."

"If it's better for you to move, go ahead. Just leave us word so we can contact you if necessary."

She nodded glumly. Then she looked him in the eye. "Wes didn't kill himself."

Drew smiled slightly. "That's what I think, too, but we still must examine all possibilities. By the way, did Wes know a man named Charles Mitchell?"

She nodded. "They were best friends since high school. He's the one who convinced Wes to move to the city. Better opportunities he said. Yeah. Right. Why do you ask?"

"Mitchell's dead, too. Overdose."

"Charley used a little but he wasn't into drugs big time."

He reached in his pocket and withdrew his card. "If you think of anything I should know give me a call." He stood up. "We can see ourselves out."

After they were gone, Danielle looked at the card. Something was clipped to it. She unfolded a fifty dollar bill. New tears started flowing. "Oh, thank you," she whispered. "Thank you."

In the car, Drew gave Karen two hundred dollar bills. "Get some groceries and see if you can buy Dana some clothes and shoes. She can't go around wearing my shirt all the time though it's longer on her than some skirts I've seen."

"What do you want me to get?"

"Use your imagination. Don't you shop for groceries regularly? And buy Dana a pair of sneakers."

"What size does she wear?"

"I don't know. Call her and find out. You can drop me at the morgue?"

Karen looked over and grinned. "That sounds a little bit weird."

He grinned back. "The nature of our business."

He was still grinning when he walked in the morgue where two forensic doctors were plying their trade. "What do you have for me, George?"

"I'm just getting started. But I can tell you this. It wasn't suicide. There was somebody else there. Take a look at this. Two puncture marks here. Possibly to numb the wound. There is another one up higher. I'll send blood and tissue samples to the lab."

"The gunshot was the cause of death though?"

"He was definitely alive when he was shot. He bled out from the entry wound and the exit wound. I'll know more later."

Drew walked over to the other table. "Eileen?"

"The only thing I could find was a puncture wound in his arm. Everything is consistent with a drug overdose. I sent up for a tox-screen. They'll be able to tell you more in the lab."

"Mitchell has a rap sheet as long as your arm," Ernie Stevens told Drew. "Mostly small stuff. Stealing, shoplifting, burglary. Nothing violent. He was just feeding a habit he couldn't afford."

"And all at once he graduates to grand theft auto and mugging in a well lit parking lot with people coming and going all over the place. Makes no sense at all. Hank told me my tape recorder and the syringe that were in my coat pockets were not among the items recovered."

"That's right."

"Where is my stuff?"

"Alicia has it. Why?"

"It would make my job just a little easier if I had my badge and guns. And cell phone, my boots and my three-hundred-dollar leather jacket. I need my wallet, too, and my ID."

"I hear you. You'll want to have that jacket cleaned before you wear it again. It smells like shit."

"Just like my Jeep."

After he threatened Alicia, he managed to reclaim his guns, badge and cell phone. "I'll be back for my wallet so get it done." He returned to his desk and sat down to strap his backup to his leg. After he removed his gunbelt with its vintage Colt, he took off his coat and put on his shoulder holster with his nine mil. He pinned his badge to a belt loop and he felt like a cop again.

Hallinan came to his office door and motioned Drew over. "Come in and close the door. I want a rundown on what you've got so far."

Drew told him about the evidence and about George's statement that it wasn't suicide. "I agree with him completely. Especially with that brain matter Smokey Behr found by the back door. It was too far away to be part of the spatter pattern. The dust was disturbed like someone took off a pair of coveralls or something.

"Now, what can you tell me about O'Toole's murder last night?"

"As near as we can tell, the shot came from the office building across the parking lot. The office was rented to a PI from Atlanta. A check with Atlanta PD showed no such PI. We found no fingerprints, no brass, but the window was open about six inches. Had to be a professional to hit a target from that distance."

"Only he hit the wrong target. Unless...unless he was after O'Toole to begin with. She brought down a lot of drug dealers."

Hallinan answered his phone. After he hung up he told Drew, "Press conference in the briefing room in ten minutes. Take that time to think about what you will say. Don't give them all the details. Only enough to get them off our backs until we get it all sorted out."

As they left his office, Hallinan motioned to Hank O'Connor to come along. The Texan joined them in the elevator. He was six four without his boots; with them he stood six six, taller than Drew's six two.

Hallinan looked them over. "You two look like a couple of cowboys instead of police officers."

They exchanged grins. "Didn't know I was gonna be invited to a press conference," Hank drawled.

They entered a room filled with newspaper and TV reporters. Hank sat on the edge of the table in the front of the room. Drew went to the other end where he half sat, half leaned on the table with his ankles crossed and his arms folded across his chest. Hallinan picked up the microphone from the table and stood between them.

"We have some information on the murders that have occurred lately. I know you all want to know about Thomas' but we have three others that may be linked to that. I'll let Sergeant O'Connor tell you about the death of Charles Mitchell." Hallinan passed the mic to Hank.

A ripple of protest ran through the group. "I thought we were going to get something about the slaying of Sergeant Thomas and Officer O'Toole," Delia Banner spoke up.

"We think they are all interconnected but we won't know for sure until the investigation is complete. We'll explain as much as we can at this point," Hank assured her. "Charles Mitchell was found dead last night in the vehicle he stole from Lieutenant Ward yesterday. It looks like a drug overdose until you factor in the fact that his best friend was Wesley Morrison who we are pretty sure shot Thomas. We have reason believe Morrison had an accomplice so we are calling Mitchell's death suspicious. It's still early in the investigation so that is all we can give you now.

"We think the shooting of Rachel O"Toole was one of mistaken identity. We think the shooter was trying to kill a witness who is in protective custody. The shooter shot the wrong woman."

Hank gave the mic back to Hallinan who passed it to Drew who stood up straight. "This morning the body of Wesley Morrison was found in an empty warehouse. It looks like a possible suicide but we are investigating it further. We can't take anything for granted in this case. That is all we can tell you now. Are there any questions?"

A male reporter spoke up, "What you're telling us is that Morrison shot Thomas and Moore and then killed himself out of remorse."

"I didn't say that. I said that's what it appears to be."

Delia got the next question in. "What do you think happened?"

"I think we need to investigate the matter more thoroughly before we make conjectures that may be false or misleading. That's all, folks." Drew handed the mic back to Hallinan and walked out with Hank in his wake.

"You said too much, Hank. They're going to start putting words in our mouths and that could force the real culprit underground."

"Could be," Hank drawled. "It could also force his hand if he thinks we're gettin' too close."

"Maybe," Drew conceded. "That could be a dangerous game especially if we're dealing with Drumheller. He's a forensic expert and doesn't leave behind evidence. That's why he had to get that syringe and tape recorder back. I finally had hard evidence against him and now it's gone and Mitchell can't tell us who was pulling his strings."

"Possible. It's surprising what a dead body can tell us though."

Drew pushed the button on the elevator to take them back upstairs. "I know. I'm a forensic expert, too."

"Then why the hell aren't you in the lab instead of out on the street?"

"I want to be out there to get the bad asses off the street. There's a certain satisfaction about that."

"Yup, there is," Hank agreed. "Do you think Drumheller killed Morrison and Mitchell?"

"Uh-ha. And Doctor Olivia Fenton from Billings, Montana. And I think Dana Terrell is the string that connects them. I'm going to the lab to see if I can get my wallet back. I have an errand to run and it will help if I have my debit card."

Fifteen minutes later Drew was on the sidewalk outside a florist shop. He strode in and told the florist, "A dozen red roses for a very special lady." He paid for them and wrote on the card, "From the man you saved from freezing to death. Thank you."

****

"What are you doing?" Karen asked as she looked over Dana's shoulder.

Dana, who now wore a purple, long-sleeved turtleneck, sat in the antique oak swivel desk chair at Drew's old roll top desk with papers spread out before her. "Trying to sort out my memories." The five papers each had a label at the top: childhood, teens, adult BWP, adult AWP and a question mark.

"What does the BWP and the AWP stand for?"

"Before witness protection and after witness protection."

"That makes sense. And the question mark is for the ones you can't identify."

"Right."

Karen studied the papers. For childhood she had written Christmas tree and boy. (brother? Tony?) and hopscotch. Under teens she wrote prom, beach on Cape Cod, sailing. Adult BWP she wrote, guns, scared, going down dark, narrow stairs and driving in pouring rain crying. Adult AWP she listed running from men, falling. Under the question mark was the words wedding picture, me? and lying on the beach with a man beside me. Am I married?

With Sylvia and Karen both there, the uniformed police officers went back on patrol. Sylvia had just come from the bedroom where she'd been asleep when the doorbell rang followed by loud pounding on the door. "FBI. Open up."

"Sylvia, take Dana to the bedroom and lock the door. Dana, lock yourself in the bathroom. Go!" Karen ran to the door and looked through the peephole. Drumheller stood on the other side. "What do you want?"

"I have a warrant to search this apartment. Open up."

"Search for what?"

There was no answer but she could hear the battering ram hit the door. "Come on, Drew, answer your phone."

"Yeah, Karen. What's up?"

"Drumheller's outside. He says he has a search warrant. They're using a battering ram. They just broke in."

# Chapter 7

"Sylvan, you're with me!" Drew pulled his coat on as he headed for the elevator.

"Where we going?" Terri Sylvan asked.

"My place. Karen just called and said Drumheller's breaking in." He pushed the button on his phone that connected him with dispatch. "This is Lieutenant Ward. I need backup." He told her the address.

"That's your address!" said the female voice on the other end.

"Yes, ma'am. Possible hostage situation."

"I got a SWAT team on the way back from a hostage situation that fizzled. They can probably use the chance to work off some adrenaline."

"Send them. Tell them to meet me there. No sirens."

"We going to arrest Drumheller?" Terri asked as she buckled her seat belt.

He grinned at her. "If at all possible."

A squad car was already in place to stop traffic from that block. Drew swerved around them and pulled up in front of the apartment complex just as the SWAT team arrived. "Take the elevator up. Ninth floor," Drew told the SWAT team--the same men who had responded to his call the previous night.

Terri and Drew took the lead going into Drew's apartment. Terri had her cell phone out to take pictures. They found Karen standing in the living room with her hands cuffed behind her. "Take the cuffs off her and put them on him." Drew ordered the closet team member.

A gunshot sent him to the bedroom on the double. There he found Sylvia out cold. "Cuff him." Drew pointed to the other young agent.

Terri was busy taking photos. She got a good shot of Drumheller at the bathroom door with the plunger shoved in his face. Drumheller shot again, shoving the door open and sending Dana sprawling on the floor. Water flooded the bathroom from the toilet tank where Drumheller's second bullet hit.

Drew placed his gun behind Drumheller's right ear. "Put up your hands or I'll shoot you where you stand, you accursed bastard."

Drumheller raised his hands and Drew reached with his left hand to take away his gun, handing it to the SWAT team member behind him. Drew took out his cuffs and clipped one over Drumheller's left wrist. "Lewis Drumheller, you are under arrest for breaking and entering, aggravated assault against a police officer, attempted kidnapping, murder and destroying two young agents' careers as good FBI agents along with anything else I can think of to nail you with. You have the right to remain silent..." Drew took his own sweet time telling Drumheller his rights. He was enjoying every minute of it.

Terri stepped past him into the bathroom to turn off the water to the toilet. She helped Dana to her feet. "Come on, honey. He can't hurt you now."

"What do you want us to do with them?" asked the SWAT team leader.

"Take the two boys down and book them for breaking and entering and assaulting police officers. Take Drumheller down and put him in an interrogation room and post a guard to make sure he stays there."

"I didn't assault anyone," said the young agent who was in the bedroom. "He did." He pointed to Drumheller.

"She's in here," someone else was telling a paramedic.

Sylvia struggled to sit up. "Don't try to talk," warned the paramedic. "I think your jaw is broken. We're going to get you to the ER."

"Call ahead," Drew ordered. "Her boyfriend is an ER nurse and it wouldn't be very nice for him to find her on a gurney without advance notice."

Dana ran to Drew and threw her arms around him and held on like a drowning man to a life preserver. He slipped his arms around her. "It's all right."

Her voice was muffled against his chest. "No, it isn't. I recognized his voice when he called Sylvia a bitch. Either he's the same man that killed Dr. Fenton or he sounds like him."

"Oh, thank you, sweetie. Look, I'll be back shortly. I have to go question the bastard. I think I finally got the proof I need and what you just told me will help tremendously."

Dana clung to him shaking. He loosened her hold and stepped back holding her hands. "I have to go. I must find you a safe place to stay. Don't worry about Drumheller. He's going to jail."

Karen and Terri mopped up the water in the bathroom. Karen took the sodden towels to the laundry room while Terri stepped into the bedroom.

"Sir, I think it would be a mistake to take her elsewhere. This is the last place anyone would expect to find her after what just happened."

"The locks are broken," he argued. "The bathroom isn't usable."

She shrugged. "Have them fixed."

Drew ran his hand over his hair and exhaled forcefully. "Too many females," he grumbled.

"For the record, I agree with Terri." Karen stood in the doorway.

"All you women get out of my bedroom," Drew ordered. "Karen, yellow pages. Find a locksmith and a plumber. Terri, come along."

He had just slid behind the wheel when his cell phone rang. He flipped it open impatiently. "What the hell do you want now, Charlotte?"

"I told you not to talk to me like that. I'm your sister. You said you'd order a car. It isn't here. It's not good for Mother to be standing out in the cold like this. "

"I ordered a limo. If it's not there it isn't my fault. Was your plane on time?"

"Ten minutes early. There's a silver limo pulling up to the curb now. Reese is checking...It's ours."

"Good, now le'me alone for a while."

"You are going to join us for dinner tonight, aren't you?"

"If I can find someone to babysit Dana."

"Who's Dana?"

"The witness I have in protective custody."

"I expect you to be there." With that she disconnected.

"What was that all about?" Terri asked as she settled on the passenger seat and snapped her seat belt in place.

"My sister! She's a royal pain in the ass."

"Is that how you talk to your sister?"

"Yup. Pisses her off." He pulled out into traffic. He opened his phone again and scrolled down for the number he wanted. "Chuck, this is Drew. I just arrested three FBI agents. Can you meet me at the station in ten minutes?" He disconnected and looked over at Terri. "Are you really a lez? Does Brittany live with you?"

"She's been with me for three years."

"What does she do?"

"She takes care of my apartment. When I get home we go out for a run in the park."

"Do you sleep together?"

"You sure are nosy. Sometimes she sleeps in her own bed; sometimes, in mine." Her dark eyes sparkled with amusement and she had a smug little smile. "She's my best friend."

Drew glanced over at her. He was good at reading faces and Terri's told him she was putting him on. "There's something you aren't telling me."

Her smile broadened. "Brittany's a spaniel."

Drew laughed so hard he almost rear-ended the car in front of him when it stopped for a red light. "That's just a line you use to keep men away."

She laughed. "It works. Takes a special kind of man to keep me happy."

"You turned me down."

"You are a lieutenant."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Uh-ha. That and I don't mess where I work. If you weren't a cop and a lieutenant I'd lay you in a minute."

Drew pulled in his reserved parking space. "Go ahead in. I'm going to wait for Chuck so I can talk to him before we question his guys." Drew leaned against the back of the squad car and wished he had a cigarette. It was a craving that came on him now and then though he'd quit smoking a year earlier. He pushed the yen to the back of his mind when he saw Chuck Davidson coming toward him.

Chuck looked every bit the touch FBI agent but Drew knew the softer side of him. He'd been a guest in Chuck's home several times and knew the agent cared deeply, not just for his family, but for the unfortunate victims of crime. He was as tall as Drew with a thatch of unruly sandy hair above a lean face etched with the lines of too many frowns. Like Drew he knew the darker side of humanity.

His black overcoat hung open revealing a gray suit with the jacket unbuttoned and his tie was loosened to allow him to undo the top button of his white shirt. He looked like he'd already put in a rough day and it was about to get rougher. "What do you have on my boys?" He asked as he approached Drew.

Drew unleant from the car and fell into step beside Chuck. "Not much on your boys. They just did what Drumheller told them. They thought the operation was legit. Just breaking and entry, unlawful restraint, interfering with a police officer who was performing her duty. Drumheller is an all together different case."

"He's not one of mine. He answers to Quantico."

"I'll probably let your guys go if they agree to testify against Drumheller. I have enough to hold him until I get more evidence. I'm going to ask that he be held without bail. I'm charging him with intimidating a witness, attempted murder of a wounded cop. I have a witness to that. My hard evidence was stolen when I was mugged which is why I believe Charles Mitchell's overdose wasn't accidental. I believe he shot up what was in that syringe that Drumheller was going to inject into Moore's IV."

"What did Mitchell overdose on?"

"Highly concentrated morphine. Enough to kill a horse." They walked through the office to the interrogation rooms. "Might as well talk to your boys first. Give me more evidence to go after Drumheller."

They walked up to where Capt. Hallinan was standing outside the interrogation room. "Why is it turned off?" Drew motioned to the computer screen for the camera in the room.

Hallinan looked around. "Sneed complained that it violates his client's rights to privately discuss his case with his lawyer."

"Turn it back on. I'm going in there and I want it on tape."

"I think I'll watch from out here. Drumheller's not one of mine," Chuck said.

"What? You rats abandoning ship?"

"You don't need Daddy to hold your hand anymore," Hallinan shot back. "You planning on playing good cop, bad cop?"

"Never crossed my mind. How about a couple of bad asses?" He went to the squad room and hollered, "Sylvan, come with me."

Terri looked up from where she stood leaning over Hank's desk. "What's up?"

"I want you in interrogation."

"Drumheller?"

"Yup."

She shot him a grin and pulled a small stack of paper from the printer tray. "You'll want these." She crossed the room and handed him the print-outs of pictures. "I took them on my cell phone."

As they walked to the interrogation room, he shuffled through them. "Thank you so very much. I especially like this one of Dana shoving the plunger in Drumheller's face. It's so appropriate."

Inside the small room where Drumheller and his lawyer, Henry Sneed, waited. Terri stationed herself next to the door. Drew led off his questioning with, "Why do you want Dana Terrell?"

"She's in the witness protection program," Drumheller answered. "She's my witness. You are holding her against her will."

"Witness protection is administered by the U.S. Marshall's office. You're FBI." Drew pushed a picture across the table. "Sure looks like she's grateful for your rescue," he sneered. "I just used that plunger this morning. I didn't wash it afterwards. If you want I can have a CSI come in and clean your face."

Drumheller snarled, "I don't care what accusations you sling at me, I'm not answering to you."

Drew laid the pictures down one at a time. "My sergeant with her hands cuffed behind her back. Unlawful restraint and interfering with a police officer's performing her duty. Sylvia Klose after you cold cocked her. She probably has a broken jaw. Aggravated assault and interfering with a police officer. The broken door to my apartment. Breaking and entering. The broken door to my bedroom. Another charge of breaking and entering. The broken door to the bathroom. Another charge of breaking and entering. Attempted kidnapping. Assaulting Dana." Drew paused to collect his thoughts. Then he laid down a picture of the broken toilet tank and the broken tile on the bathroom wall. "Indiscriminate use of a firearm and the destruction of property. And that's just for starters.

"Now we'll talk about yesterday. I found you in the ICU room occupied by Officer Sean Moore. You threatened him with an overdose of morphine."

"You can't prove what was in that syringe," Drumheller shot back.

"You're right. Because I was mugged and everything stolen from me. What did you promise Charles Mitchell? Everything he took off me plus a high with a syringe full of morphine. Only you didn't tell him it was concentrated so he overdosed. That's what you wanted. He was Wesley Morrison's accomplice when he tried to abduct Dana Terrell. But things didn't work out like you planned. Blaine Thomas and Sean Moore showed up and interfered with that abduction. So you had to get rid of Morrison. You had to get rid of the evidence so you killed them both."

Drumheller sat with his arms folded, a smirk on his face. "You can't prove any of that because it only happened in your head."

"What about the shooting death of Dr. Olivia Fenton and the arson of her office?"

That made Drumheller squirm but he didn't break. "I don't even know who she is."

"The psychiatrist from Billings, Montana, that you gunned down."

"I've never even been to Billings, Montana."

"That's strange because Sergeant Orren told me he spoke to you just a few hours before Dr. Fenton was killed. You told Sergeant Orren you're a U.S. Marshall. And Dana tells me she recognized your voice when you called Sylvia a bitch."

"A crazy woman who can't even remember who she is," Drumheller sneered.

"She remembers quite well what has happened since her fall. And she's remembering more every day. What I want to know, Lew, is: who's pulling your strings? Why do you want Dana? She was safe under my protection until you broke into my apartment today. Now I have to find somewhere else to keep her protected. Why, Lew? Why do you want her? What's she know that you don't want her to?"

"Go to hell!"

"We're through here," Sneed said.

Drew grinned across the table at them. "You're free to go. Drumheller stays. You're going to jail, Lew. And I'm going to recommend that you be held without bail because you're a flight risk. Just in case you're wondering, Chuck Davidson is watching this interview so don't look to the FBI for help.

"Terri, go get Hank to help you take this scum to booking."

"I'm not going with that black bitch..."

Drew grabbed Drumheller by his coat lapels and hoisted him to his feet. "You're right, Lew. She's too good to deal with the likes of you. I'll take you to booking myself. I'll even escort you directly to your cell. Watch you strip down and put on a prison jump suit. They're real pretty orange."

# Chapter 8

"Sit down, Drew. It's nice of you to join us." Hallinan motioned to the empty dark green leather chair across his desk from him. Chuck Davidson occupied the other one.

"Did you get Drumheller tucked away all comfy and cozy?" Chuck asked.

"He'll do for a spell. There'll be a bail hearing on Monday. I would appreciate a little support in asking that he be held without bail."

"Conflict of interest," Chuck said.

"I'll back you," Hallinan offered. "First I want to know where this is headed. What are you holding out on me?"

"I'm not holding out, Matt. It's just that I don't have the necessary evidence to prove any of the murders. I do have a witness as to what happened at the hospital yesterday. Jan Turnbaugh. She's a nurse there. I have the feeling Sneed and Drumheller are going to try to wheedle their way out of it. Chuck, can you find out what Dana Terrell did to end up in the witness protection program? It could be a main lead in this case. Six people have been murdered and Dana Terrell is the string that ties them all together. It is unfortunate that she's lost a good bit of her memory."

"I have a little pull at the top. I'll try to find out about Dana. You already sent her fingerprints down, didn't you?"

"Sort of. When we tried to get a trace on her we found out they were blocked. I can get you a copy if you need them."

"I'll let you know. It's time I'm getting along home. Iris and I are going out tonight. Christmas party."

"I have to find a sitter for Dana," Drew said to Hallinan after Chuck left. "With Sylvia in the hospital and Karen has plans, I'm at a loss who to get. Terri told me she's going out. I'm supposed to have dinner with my sister and her husband."

"With Drumheller in jail and Morrison dead, she shouldn't need protection. I expect Karen to be back in here on Monday morning. With Thomas and O'Toole dead and Klose and Moore in the hospital, it leaves us a little short handed."

"Bullshit. There are sure as hell enough cops in New York City to cover for the loss of four."

"If you think she needs protection watch her yourself. Other than that turn her loose."

"To do what? She's got no place to go. She doesn't have a penny to her name. I bought the clothes and shoes she's wearing. I can't just put her out on the street."

"That's up to you. You have till Monday morning to figure it out. You can always put her in protective custody in jail."

"When hell freezes over. You can't leave me sticking like this, Matt."

"I've got to get on home. Lil doesn't like it when I'm late."

"What about Dana? I can't be in two places at once."

"Take her with you."

Drew was in a thoroughly rotten mood when he got home to find the door locked and he couldn't get in. His key card no longer worked. He pushed the doorbell but no one answered so he pounded on the door with his fist. "Open the damn door!" He yelled loud enough to bring Sunny Minnier to her door across the hall.

"What's wrong?"

"Go back inside and mind your own damn business." At that instant Dana opened the door. She stepped back to allow him to enter.

"Where the hell's Karen?" he demanded.

"It got late so she had to go. It was no problem. I'm not a child."

Drew went straight to the kitchen and took a glass from the cupboard to pour himself a whiskey. He tossed it back and poured a second. He set it on the counter and went through his bedroom to the bathroom. The toilet was repaired but the door latch wasn't. He didn't give a damn. If Dana didn't have enough sense to stay out it was her problem. He left the seat up just for spite.

He went back to his whiskey and stood staring at Dana. "You don't have any good clothes." It wasn't a question. He already knew all she had was the sweat suit Karen bought her, a sweater and slacks. Nothing she could wear to dinner at the Hilton.

Drew's staring at her made Dana nervous. "If you had a bad day don't take it out on me." She returned to her papers where she was writing her memories down.

"Sunny!" Drew exclaimed. "Come with me," he ordered.

She swiveled the chair around and looked at him like he'd gone demented. "Why?"

He motioned impatiently. "Come along!"

She wasn't sure about what he wanted. She timidly crossed the room. He took her hand and led her out into the hall where he pressed the doorbell to the apartment across from his.

A petite blond young woman answered. She smiled at Drew and said, "I'm just minding my own business."

"It's your business that interests me," Drew replied. He put his hands on Dana's shoulders and held her in front of him. "Do you think you can turn this into something that will pass for appropriate for dinner at the Hilton?"

"Of course. How much time do I have?"

He took his cell phone from his pocket and looked at the time. "Half an hour."

"Will do. I'll bring her over when I'm finished." She pulled Dana inside and closed the door. "He talks about you like you're not human. I take it you're the person in protective custody."

"Yes. What is your business?"

"I'm a makeup artist on Broadway. My services don't come cheap and I'm going to charge him double for working at home. Maybe than he'll think twice about calling you a thing. We'll start with a nice relaxing bath while I figure out what you'll wear." She led the way to the bathroom where she turned on the water in a square tub big enough for two people. "Roses or lilacs?"

"Lilacs," Dana answered. As soon as she inhaled the scent memories flashed through her mind. A wide yard with bushes of the good smelling flowers. She sat on the porch steps watching herself pick an aromatic bouquet.

Sunny poured in the bubble bath. "I'll get you some underclothes. Just soak in the tub while I figure it out."

Dana disrobed and sat down in the bubbling tub. How could she be watching herself? she wondered. It seemed like she was just a child. The answer hit her like a ton of bricks. She was watching her mother. She looked like her mother. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She wondered if her mother was still alive but for some reason she knew she wasn't. The wedding picture she remembered was of her parents. The handsome man with the dark framed glasses was her father. She leaned back in the water and let the tears flow.

Sunny came into the bathroom with scarlet panties, bra and half slip. "Time to get out. I have the rest of your outfit in the bedroom. Once you're dressed I'll do your makeup."

"I don't wear makeup," Dana said.

"With your complexion you don't need to. But for an evening out you should wear just a light dusting of powder, some brown eyebrow pencil and a little brown mascara. Your brows and lashes are the same gold as your hair. We have to do something about your hair. I have a wig that is almost the same shade of your natural color. We'll see. Just get dried off and get dressed. Let me worry about the rest."

Dana came to the bedroom clad in panties, bra and half slip. Sunny laid out a pair of red pantyhose and a crimson velour dress with long sleeves and a V neckline. "It's so soft," Dana said as she pulled it over her head.

"I wore that in a play," Sunny informed her. "Sometimes I do bit parts. It's best to diversify. The more you can do, the more valuable you become." She brought out a pair of spike heeled scarlet shoes.

"I can't wear them," Dana protested. "I'd fall off and break my ankles."

Sunny put them back and delved into her closet to come up with a pair of black suede shoes with two-inch heels. "How about these?"

"Okay. I never learned to walk in those real high heels. They make my feet hurt." She frowned wondering why she remembered that.

"Now it's time for the makeup. Sit down here in front of the mirror." She swathed Dana in a cover and dusted her face with powder. "Just a touch of blush."

Dana watched the transformation in the mirror. Sunny certainly knew her trade. It was the wig that wrought the biggest change. It brought back memories of her own natural hair. "Can you curl it just a little around my face."

"Sure can. It's real human hair." After she plied the curling iron she patted it lightly. "Perfect. Now for the jewelry. Rubies." She grinned at Dana. "Paste. I can't afford the real thing." She produced teardrop earrings and a matching pendant necklace. "Now let's go over and pop Drew's eyes out."

****

Drew hadn't locked the apartment door when he returned to take a shower, shave and dress. He came from the bedroom in his shirtsleeves when the two women walked in the door. He stopped short and stared. "Dana?" He couldn't believe his eyes. The young woman that stood before him was stunning. Absolutely stunning.

Dana twirled around to show him all of her. "Am I good enough now to be considered a person instead of something?"

His face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I guess I was taking it out on you because I had a bad day.

"Gotta run," Sunny said. "Steve's coming to dinner and we plan to spend an evening in." She came back a minute later. "Forgot something. It's cold out there." She handed Drew a white faux fur cape before she darted back out. "Have fun," she called over her shoulder.

Drew tossed the cape on the couch and went back to the bedroom. He returned a minute later carrying his gun in a shoulder holster, his tie and the jacket to his suit. Dropping the tie and jacket on the couch, he strapped on his gun.

"You're going to wear a gun to dinner in a swanky hotel?" Dana questioned.

"I'm a cop!" he returned sharply. "Let's get this straight right now! I do not allow any woman to order me around. Officially you are not in protective custody anymore. I can put you out."

Dana shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat. I'm not begging you to put me up. I'm sure there are homeless shelters somewhere in this city."

He picked up his tie and put it around his neck, knotting it carefully before facing her with his arms crossed. "Okay. So you called my bluff. I can't be so mean as to put you out." He walked over to view himself in the gilt framed mirror above an antique sideboard. After he adjusted his tie to suit himself, he turned around. "I just don't know what to do with you. It is hardly proper for us to be living together."

"You don't seem to be the type to allow other peoples' opinions to shape your life."

He grinned. "I'm not. Let's go to dinner. I'm hungry." He lifted the cape from the couch and held it for her.

As soon as they exited the high rise, Drew flagged down a cab. It was as if he transformed with the change of his clothing. He was no longer the tough cop but a charming southern gentleman. But that was only on the exterior.

Dana was awed by the display of lights in the city. "Ah, yes," he said cynically. "Christmas in New York. Just like a trash heap covered with snow. On the surface it looks pretty but underneath it's still a trash heap. If you look beyond the lights you'll find the dark side of New York."

Dana didn't reply to his comment but he dampened her spirit which was already wounded by his treatment of her when he arrived home. She knew he really didn't want to take her with him to have dinner with his family. On the other hand, he wasn't willing to leave her alone.

Drew took her hand to assist her when she stepped out of the taxi and did not release it immediately as they walked past the doorman. All around her was the gaiety of the season. Everyone seemed happy but were they like Drew? Only pretending.

He remained silent on their ride up to the floor where his sister's suite was. There he flashed her a grin just before he pounded on the door. "NYPD. Open up."

The door opened and the young girl standing there screamed, "Uncle Drew!" She catapulted into his arms with her legs around his waist.

Drew loosened her legs and set her on her feet. "You're getting a little too old for that sort of thing, Andi. And a little too heavy."

"I'm eleven now," the girl bragged.

"I know." He stepped back to allow Dana past him so he could close the door. "Dana, this is my niece Andrea Weatherton. Andi, this is Dana Terrell."

The rest of the family in the living/dining room of the suite came to be introduced. "My sister, Charlotte and her husband, Reese Weatherton. This is my other niece, Bridget, and my nephew, Adrian."

The seventeen-year-old held out his hand and Dana took it. "I go by my middle name now. James. Actually I go by Jim."

"Where's Mama?"

"In her room with Jenny," Charlotte returned. "I'll go get her."

Reese brought some papers to the dining table and motioned for Drew to join him. "I have all the paperwork for you to become your mother's guardian."

Drew sat down to read it. "I don't sign anything I don't read first."

Andi stood gazing at Dana. "Are you Uncle Drew's girlfriend?"

Dana smiled. "No. We're just friends."

"Then you're a girlfriend," Andi declared. "You're a girl and a friend. What do you do for a living?"

Dana wasn't sure how to answer that because she couldn't remember. "I'm an artist." It was no lie. She did have an artistic bent.

"What kind of artist?"

Drew intervened. "Andi, don't be rude. You ask more questions than I do during an interrogation."

"Andrew!" The old woman came from another room of the suite. "I am so glad to see you."

Drew went to his mother and hugged her. "I'm glad to see you, Mama."

"I don't understand why you couldn't come to Nashville to visit me. I didn't like that airplane ride."

Drew shot a questioning look over his mother's head. Charlotte shook her head and put her finger to her lips to signal silence.

"Mama, this is Dana Terrell. Dana, my mother, Constance Ward."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Ward." Dana held out her hand and the older woman took it.

"Are you going to marry my Andrew? You're the first one he's brought home to meet us all since Deirdre."

Dana chuckled. "No. We're just friends."

Mrs. Ward blushed with embarrassment. "I hope I didn't say anything wrong. My memory isn't so good anymore. They tell me I have Alzheimer's."

"That's all right, Mrs. Ward. I can't remember much either. I have amnesia. I fell and hit my head on a rock. But I'm getting better each day."

Mama Ward laughed. "We'd make a pair, wouldn't we? I'm losing my memory and you're regaining yours."

"Yes, we would." Dana impulsively hugged the old woman.

"I think we'd best go down for dinner now," Reese said. "You kids mind Jenny. If she tells me you misbehaved, you won't get to go along tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Drew queried.

"We're going to see the sights." Reese answered. "You can leave your coats here so you don't have to check them."

When they were in the elevator, Drew accused Charlotte, "You didn't tell her, did you? You led her to believe she was coming to New York to visit me. That's damn rotten."

"She would never have left home otherwise," Charlotte defended. "She can be quite difficult at times. I've put up with it for a long time. Now it's your turn. She's your mother, too. She's independently wealthy. It's not like you have to support her. And you better not spend any of her money on yourself."

"I don't need her money. I have my own. New York pays me a good salary to catch the bad guys. Besides that I have the money from my horses. A good horse with a proven bloodline can fetch a good price. I have a rather simple lifestyle."

When they got out of the elevator, Charlotte pulled her husband aside for a whispered conversation. Then they joined the short line for those with reservations. "Weatherton," Reese said when their turn came.

"Table for three."

"Actually, we need a table for four," Charlotte said. "My brother brought a date."

After they gave their orders for drinks and appetizers, Reese stood up. "Miss Terrell, would you like to dance?" He took her hand and led her away to the dance floor.

Drew faced his sister with an accusatorial stare. "You set that up just so you can talk to me alone."

"Don't you use that tone with me!" Charlotte shot back "Of course I want to talk to you alone. I want to be sure we understand each other about Mama. That's none of her business."

"What was I supposed to do? Leave her home alone? She's here through no fault of her own. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She witnessed a murder.

"Now that we're alone, why the hell didn't you tell Mama the truth? She doesn't even know you're just going to dump her off and fly away to Switzerland for how long?"

"Possibly a year or two. I can't deal with her anymore. If I'd put her in an assisted living facility in Nashville, there would be no one there to visit her. I didn't have the heart to just leave her behind."

Drew's anger softened at his sister's admission. He vowed he'd visit his mother as often as he could. He loved his mother and it pierced his heart to see her mind disintegrating. He wondered for how long. He had to find a decent facility to house her and her attendant. It was obvious Charlotte didn't plan to help him. At least his mother still recognized him and seemed to be able to hold a reasonable conversation.

Reese and Dana came back just as a waitress came with their drinks, appetizers and menus. She took their orders.

A woman came over and snapped their pictures. "Lieutenant, how's the case progressing?"

"Can't you leave me alone to eat? There will be a press conference when we have something to tell you. Now just go away and let me eat my dinner in peace."

"Can you tell me the names of the people at the table with you?"

Drew stood up. "I can have you put out. Go away!" After she left he sat back down. "Paparazzi."

"I didn't realize you are so famous," Charlotte commented.

"Infamous is more the word. That woman just rubs me the wrong way. Forget about it. Just eat."

The conversation took on a lighter note as they discussed the sites that the Weathertons could visit the next day. Dana had little to say. She knew almost nothing about New York and her recent arrival in the city wasn't something to be discussed around the dinner table.

"How about dessert?" Reese asked.

A loud disturbance at one of the tables along the wall caught Drew's attention. A man who was obviously quite drunk was arguing with a waitress who brought his credit card back saying it was overcharged. The man stood up and got right in her face. "I know it's good."

A waiter came to Drew's side and asked quietly, "Lieutenant, can you help?"

"Certainly." Drew stood up and strode over to the table. "What's the problem?"

"None of your damn business. Get away from me or I'll call the police."

Drew pulled aside his coat to reveal his badge. "I am the police."

"His card's no good," the waitress said.

"I'm leaving," the man tried to push past Drew.

Drew yanked his arm behind his back and shoved him against the wall. "Not without paying."

The woman with the man took out a fifty dollar bill and laid it on the table. "Keep the change as your tip," she told the waitress. "I'm sorry for the fuss." She headed for the door.

Drew yanked the man around and escorted him toward the exit. When they got even with the table where Dana sat she looked at the man. A chill went down her spine. He looked familiar but she couldn't remember why. She diverted her eyes away and found herself staring into the eyes of an even more familiar face. She could feel the blood draining away from her face. The smirk on his face shot fear into her heart.

Reese asked. "Are you all right, Dana? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I must go to the rest room." She got up and left the table.

In the rest room the attendant asked, "Are you all right, miss?"

"I just need a minute. I'm okay."

She leaned against the wall to settle her pounding heart. When a stall became available she went in and used it. She tried to formulate some sort of plan. Drew should be back at the table when she returned to the dining room. She would tell him.

She opened the door cautiously and peered into the corridor. She didn't see the man so she stepped out into the hall. There he stood between the door to the men's room and the door to the ladies'. He leaned against the wall like he was waiting for someone. He was. Her. A couple women came toward the rest rooms and he resumed his leaning stance.

Dana took advantage of the brief interruption to turn and run back the hall away from the dining room. When she found a back door she looked back. He was coming toward her at a swift walk. She opened the door and ran out into the night.

# Chapter 9

"Where's Dana?"

"She went to the ladies room," Charlotte answered. "She looked like she was sick. Probably something she ate."

"She looked like she was scared," Reese corrected. "We ordered chocolate mousse for everyone for dessert. Sit down and eat."

Drew sat down to eat his dessert but there was a frown on his face. "Did she say anything?"

"Just that she had to go to the rest room," Reese replied.

When his dessert was gone, Drew took out his cell phone to check the time. "Charlotte, go see if she's back there."

"Your girlfriend is not my problem," his sister informed him. "I'm going back to our suite." She stood up and headed for the elevators.

Reese stood up. "I'd better go along."

Drew left the table and went back the corridor to the rest rooms. He rapped loudly on the door to the ladies room. "NYPD! I'm coming in." When he opened the door the attendant blocked his way.

"Did you see a young lady in a red dress, black shoes and blond wig?"

"She was in here but she didn't stay long. She looked like she was frightened."

Drew headed for the room that housed the monitors for the security cameras. When he walked in without knocking, Sidney Norman swiveled his chair around at the sound of the door.

"Hello, Drew. By the look on your face, you want to view some footage."

"Right, Sid. I have a witness that has gone missing. I thought she'd be safe if I brought her along to dinner but the sons-of-bitches outfoxed me." He told Sid what the problem was.

"How long ago?"

"Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes." Sid pulled up the desired tape. "There. That's her going into the ladies room. There she is coming out. Who's that man along the wall? Can you get a better view of his face."

"No, but we can see where he's going. He seems to be following her. But he doesn't seem to be in a hurry."

"Shit!" Drew uttered a few more expletives as Sid switched to another camera. The monitor showed Dana running out the door with the man behind her.

Sid switched to an outside camera. "This is real time. There she is. Now he's running, too. At least she headed toward the front." They followed her with the camera to the corner of the street. She turned toward the main entrance. But another man was coming toward her.

"Damn it!" Drew pointed to the screen. "That's the bastard I put out because he was drunk."

"Doesn't look drunk now," Sid returned. "She's caught in the middle."

Drew watched helplessly as he saw Dana run into the street right in front of traffic. Drivers shook their fists and cursed her. But she got across. The two men following her didn't fare as well. A man and a women ran naked on the far side of the street. An out-of-towner turned to gawk and snarled traffic, setting off a chain reaction accident.

Dana disappeared around the corner. Drew took out his cell phone and called Hank. "Put out a BOLO on Dana Terrell. She's wearing a red dress, black shoes and a blond wig, no coat. She's running away from two men. Last seen in front of the Hilton. As soon as I get home, I'll send you a blow-up of her Washington state driver's license." Drew waved a hand as he went out the door. "Thanks, Sid."

He was already in a cab when he remembered his coat and Sunny's cape. "Tomorrow," he muttered.

****

Dana kept to the alleys and back streets. She changed direction so often she no longer had any concept of which way she was going. She just knew she had to keep moving, both to evade her pursuers and to keep from freezing. The wind that blew down the canyons of skyscrapers chilled her to the bone.

She stopped and looked around. She had left the high rises behind and was in a neighborhood of old Victorian houses that had been transformed into apartments. An elderly couple came from one of them waving to a woman standing in a doorway.

Dana approached them timidly, hugging herself to try to keep warm. "I seem to have lost my way. Please help me."

The woman was bundled in a long dark green coat with a red hat and gloves. "My goodness, girl. You're about frozen. Howard, give her your coat."

Howard was already taking his top coat off to drape it around Dana's shoulders. "You just get in the back seat. We'll take you where you want to go." He opened the door for her.

"Thank you. Your coat is so warm." She pulled it snugly about her.

He opened the front door for his wife before going around to the driver's seat. "I'm Howard Miller." He looked back at Dana. "My wife's name is Lucy. It will take a little bit for the car to warm up. It's been sitting out here for a few hours."

Dana gave him Drew's address. Lucy turned to look back at her. "We live just a few blocks over. It will be no problem at all to take you home. We have a couple of friends living in your building. The Heddings."

"I've only been in New York for a few days. I'm staying with a friend and I don't know the other people who live there. I'll be going on to Boston soon."

"Do you live in Boston?" Lucy asked.

"I used to." Dana didn't want to lie so she just guessed about her past. "I live in Spokane, Washington, now."

"Ooh. That's a long way off," Lucy returned.

"Yes, it is." Dana was getting in over her head so she just remained silent the rest of the trip until Howard stopped at the front entrance to the high rise where Drew lived.

"Right here's where I belong." Dana pointed to the high rise. "Thank you so much. I'll just leave your coat on the seat." She opened the door and stood up. "Thank you. Goodbye." She turned and ran in the door.

****

Drew paced the floor worrying about Dana. Hank told him to stay put in case she came back there. But she was running for her life. He should be out there searching for her. When the tension became too much to bear, he called Hank. "Have you heard anything?"

"A cab driver spotted her but he had a fare and couldn't stop. He called it in but by the time a patrol car got there she was gone. She was just walking, not running. Apparently she lost those two apes that were following her. We couldn't get enough from the hotel footage to make a positive ID on either one of them. They're pretty camera shy. That big guy kept his face turned away from the cameras. Nothing on the other one. Are you sure they're in cahoots? It could have been a coincidence that that guy started a ruckus just at the time the big guy went after Dana"

"I don't believe in coincidences. Just keep looking. Hold on a minute. There's someone at the door." He jerked the door open. "She's here, Hank. Call off the hounds." He closed his cell phone and put it in his shirt pocket as he grabbed her arm with his left hand and yanked her inside. After he slammed the door, he shoved her back against it. His eyes shot blue fire. "Where the hell have you been?"

Drew's roughness scared Dana. "That man. I was afraid. I ran. I got lost." She was shivering from the cold and trembling in fear of Drew. She leaned forward and slid her arms around his waist. "I'm cold."

He grabbed her arms and pushed her away. "That won't work this time, Dana. You owe me an explanation. I had every cop in New York looking for you."

She pulled free to step aside. Kicking off her shoes, she headed for the bedroom. "I'm cold, tired and my feet hurt. All you care about is how it will make you look that I disappeared while you were supposed to be watching me. I need to go to the bathroom."

Drew let her go. When she came from the bathroom, he swathed her in a blanket and set her on the couch. "Now we talk." He poured whiskey from the bottle that sat on the coffee table. She reached out for it.

He arched his eyebrows. "It could interfere with the pills you take."

"I took that pill at eight o'clock this morning. It's nearly midnight." He went to the kitchen for another glass. "Just take it easy on it." He poured two fingers of the whiskey in it and handed it to her.

She settled back with her legs drawn under her. "When you were taking that man that caused a fuss outside, I thought I recognized something about him. It gave me chills. I looked away right into the eyes of that man that chased me. He had a smirk on his face like he knew I would be scared. I know I saw him before but I can't remember where. I got up and went to the rest room. He was there when I came out."

"I know. I saw the tapes from the security cameras."

"They got it on tape?"

"You can't go far in New York without being on someone's security cameras. Where did you go?"

"I kept to the alleys and backstreets. I was so cold. I kept switching directions. I got lost. An elderly couple came to my rescue and brought me back here. I'm sorry I caused so much trouble."

"Can you describe that man?"

"Dark brown hair. Brown eyes."

"How could you see what color his eyes were from across the room?"

She frowned as she tried to dredge up some memory. "I've seen him before up close. Take my word for it. He has brown eyes. He's about the same height as you are."

It was Drew's turn to frown. "The same size as Drumheller. Maybe a size twelve shoe. That's what size shoe the man who killed Morrison wore."

"Drumheller has gray eyes."

"I didn't think you saw what color his eyes were with that plunger shoved in his face." There was a hint of humor in his voice.

"I didn't. I've seen him up close before, too." Her mouth suddenly went dry making her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth. "All three of them. They kidnapped me from my home in Spokane."

"Tell me."

"I can't remember much. Those two men held me down while Drumheller pulled up my skirt and gave me a shot in the thigh. It put me to sleep. That's all I can remember."

"Bastards! Do you think you can draw them?"

"I try not to think lately. It gets me in trouble. I'll try to draw the big man. I don't remember the other man's face and I only saw him in profile tonight. I'll do the best I can."

Drew sharpened two pencils before he brought them, with paper, to her. "I need something solid to lay the paper on," she told him. He went to the bookshelf for a book. She read the title, "Understanding Human Behavior. That sounds interesting."

"In my line of work, I need it."

Pushing aside the blanket, she moved to where she could rest her red-stocking-clad feet on the coffee table. "I love this coffee table."

He sat down beside her. "Uncle Willis made it from a slab of black walnut. He kept the sapwood and the natural shape of the tree. It's a big knot where a branch shot off from the trunk. It's so heavy I can hardly move it."

"It's beautiful." She drew her knees up to make a place to rest the book. Then she began sketching, stopping now and then to think and conjure up the image of the man she drew. When she finished she handed the sketch to Drew who took it to the printer and uploaded it to his laptop. Then he e-mailed it to Hank.

He called Hank on his cell phone. "Are you still at the office?"

"No. I'm at the scene of a home invasion turned deadly. Why?"

"I sent you a sketch Dana drew of the big man on the tapes. Maybe someone can do facial recognition to see if we can come up with a name and address. I'm going to describe the other one. Maybe she can draw him."

"Are you sure she wasn't an artist for the police or courtroom?"

"I don't know. Neither does she. I just know she's good at it. Have fun at your crime scene."

"Humph! It's past midnight. I should be home in bed by now. I'm glad I have tomorrow off."

"It's already tomorrow," Drew reminded him and disconnected.

They worked until almost three. After five attempts, Dana finally had a sketch that suited Drew. While they worked they emptied Drew's bottle of Jack Daniel's. "You better be careful or you'll get arrested for DUI," Drew joked. "Drawing under the influence." He took the book and the sketch from her and laid them on the coffee table.

He put his arm around her and pulled her close for a kiss, a gentle kiss turned passionate. She kissed him back with an ardor that matched his. She rolled across him to straddle him as he plastered her with kisses. He pulled her dress over her head and tossed it aside.

She unbuttoned his long sleeved white shirt and tugged it down his arms and threw it on the floor as he unhooked her bra and slipped it off her.

She moaned softly as he smoothed his hands down over her hips beneath her panties and pantyhose. Cupping her buttocks with his hands he stood up and carried her to his bed where he stripped off her undergarments leaving her naked. He quickly tore off his tee shirt and pants. He lay down beside her where they became a wrestling match of heat and sexual pleasure until their appetites were sated. Then they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Drew drifted up slowly from the depths of his slumber. A thumping headache made him resist opening his eyes. The urgency of a full bladder forced him to move. But a weight kept his right arm in place. He opened his eyes and peered over at Dana. "Move," he ordered.

She raised her head and looked at him. "Someone's at the door."

Pulling his arm free, he sat up. "Find something to put on." He struggled to his feet and went to his dresser for a pair of light gray sweat pants. He pulled them on and headed for the living room. "I'm coming," he shouted. He opened the door to find his brother-in-law with Dana's cape and his coat over his arm. Behind Reese stood Drew's mother and her attendant.

Drew stepped back. "Come in and make yourself comfortable. I must go to the bathroom now." He didn't wait for a response but went directly to the bathroom. He passed Dana on her way back. All she wore was his tee shirt. "Put on something more than that. Reese, Mama and Jenny are here." He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Dana found her panties and the scarlet half slip. Her dress and bra were in the living room with Drew's shirt. She had left her sweat suit at Sunny's the night before. It wouldn't be difficult for anyone to add up the empty booze bottle and the clothing lying around to figure out what occurred.

She picked up Drew's trousers and laid them on the bed before gathering up his shorts and socks with her pantyhose to take them to the laundry room. Bracing herself mentally, she stepped from the bedroom into the living room.

Mama Ward and Jenny sat on the couch while Reese stood by tapping his foot impatiently. "Where's Drew?" he demanded.

"Bathroom," she mumbled and stooped to pick up Drew's shirt and her bra from the floor. Then she picked her dress from the couch and scooted off to the laundry room where she stripped off Drew's tee shirt and put on her bra and dress. She was sure her face was as red as the dress.

Unready to face the visitors, she took the time in the kitchen to set coffee to brewing. She tried to think back over last night. There was something right on the edge of her mind but she couldn't quite grasp it. All at once it was there. A feeling of nausea washed over her as the parade of images marched around and around in her head. She hung on to the edge of the sink and cried, "Drew! Drew! It's happening again." She turned around and slid down to sit on the floor, leaning back against the cabinet.

Drew came running and squatted down beside her. "What's wrong?"

She clung to the sleeve of his dark blue turtleneck shirt. "Do you know where Karen put my motion sickness pills?"

"No." He stood up and began to search the cabinets. Then he saw them on top of the refrigerator. He took out two and ran some water in a glass. Her hand shook as she took them and downed them.

"I remembered. After they drugged me I woke up in the back of a car with my hands cuffed in front of me. Drumheller sat on the other side. That big man was in the passenger seat in front and the other one was driving. That big guy thought it was funny when he cuffed me to the grab bar in the ladies room where they stopped for gas and something to eat. My hands are small and I managed to slip out of the cuffs. That's when I ran from them. Then I fell and woke up in the hospital without the slightest notion who I am or anything else."

She went on to explain, "It's like a huge stack of photos and the one I want is near the bottom. When I pull it out the whole stack falls and gets caught in a whirlwind and they keep circling around in my mind. Those pills will make me sleepy."

"Here, let me help you up. You can lie down for a while." He helped her to the bedroom and put her to bed. "I have some errands to run. I'll be back soon." He kissed her and left her alone.

Drew went back to the living room to strap on his shoulder holster and gun. "What's that thing?" his mother asked.

"It's a gun. I'm a cop. I'm supposed to carry a gun."

"Do you kill people?"

"Not if I can avoid it. I try to make a shot that isn't fatal." He walked over to the couch and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. "I love you, Mama. I'm going to take good care of you."

"Andrew, I want to ask you..." She stopped unable to remember what she was going to say. "Jenny, what was it I was going to ask Andrew? Something Andrea told me."

"About Geneva," Jenny prompted. "You had the notion that Geneva is in New York."

"There is a Geneva in New York, Mama. It's at the northern end of Lake Seneca. We went there on vacation when I was a kid." He squatted down in front of her and took her hands. "Mama, that's not the Geneva that Reese and Charlotte are going to. They're going to Geneva in Switzerland."

She frowned, not comprehending. "Where's that?"

"In Europe. On the other side of the Atlantic Ocean."

"Why would they go that far away for a vacation?"

"They aren't going on vacation. They're going there to live. Reese's company transferred him there. They could be gone for a couple of years." He silently cursed his sister for not being honest with their mother.

"But how will I get back to Nashville?" she cried.

"You aren't going back to Nashville. I'm going to find you and Jenny a good assisted living facility here in New York. I'll come and visit you as often as I can. I promise you I'm going to take care of you."

"You're putting me in a nursing home."

"Mama, it won't be a nursing home."

Jenny laid her brown hand on his arm. "Let me explain it to her," she said softly.

Mama sat with her arms folded across her chest, a pout on her face. "I don't want to go to a nursing home. I want to stay here with you."

"Mama, I only have one bedroom and one bed."

"You could get a bigger apartment."

"I'll think about it. I have to go out for a while. I'll be back soon."

"I'm hungry."

"Jenny, you have free access to the kitchen. Karen just bought groceries yesterday."

"Who's Karen?" Mama asked.

"My partner."

"Then why were you sleeping with the that other girl?"

"My partner is Sergeant Karen Hall. We work together."

"Oh."

He stood up. "Jenny, don't let anyone in but me or Reese." He pulled on a hooded sweatshirt and went out.

# Chapter 10

"What are you doing here?" Drew asked as Karen walked up and looked at the computer screen.

"The question is, 'What are you doing here?' I got called out to a home invasion gone bad. Hank said he called me because you sounded like you were soused."

Drew looked back at her from where he ran one of the sketches Dana made through facial recognition. The computer beeped and showed "possible match" on the screen. "Take a look at this. It's from a sketch that Dana did last night. She's good." He frowned over the screen. "Jackson Curtis aka Curtis Jackson, Jack Clark, Clark Curtis. He's got a whole list of charges against him. Suspected of being a hit man for the mob. On the FBI's most wanted list. Last known address Pittsburgh, PA. I can tell you he's not in Pittsburgh now. He's right here in New York. Why the hell was he trying to grab Dana?

"I'm gradually losing this case to the FBI. Dana remembered last night about Drumheller and these other two bastards abducting her from Spokane. This case is exploding across the continent. Why try to kidnap her? If they're going to kill her...It just doesn't make sense."

"Too many pieces of the puzzle are still missing," Karen reasoned. "The kidnapping makes it an FBI case. Especially since she was kidnapped in Spokane and is now in New York. You're going to have to give it up, Drew."

"How do the murders of Dr. Fenton, Morrison and Mitchell tie in?" Drew scanned the second sketch into the computer. "This one Dana drew from description. My description. Let's see what the computer says."

While the computer did it's work, Drew told Karen what he'd done the night before. "What the hell were you thinking?" she asked. "That could get you taken off the case."

"Technically she's not our witness anymore. Morrison killed Thomas and now Morrison is dead. That part of the case is solved. I know it was stupid but we both had too much to drink. It's not like I raped her. She wanted it as much as I did. Oh, shit!"

"What?"

"We had sex. Exhilarating, mind-blowing, unprotected sex. Dana isn't on the pill and I didn't have any condoms. God, I hope I didn't get her pregnant. I have to get some condoms."

"Drew, you can't mean to continue sleeping with her."

"Why not?"

"It's unethical and a conflict of interest."

"Sooner or later the FBI is going to step in and take this case away from me. I'm afraid they'll take her, too."

"Listen to the man who's always preaching about not getting emotionally involved in a case. Are you falling in love with her?"

Drew shrugged just as the computer screen showed "no match found." Drew extended the search to Interpol. There a possible match was found. Drew let out a whistle. "Giles Pendrift. He has more aliases then Curtis. Merle Stoner, Stoney Giles, Tony Stoner, Giles Stoner, Merle Pendrift. Last known address Kingston, Jamaica. He's on Interpol's most wanted list for international drug trafficking, gun running, money laundering, murder, aggravated assault. These men are trying to abduct Dana. Someone is paying out a lot of bucks for muscle like this. What was she involved in to have men like them after her?"

"Drew, don't get in too deep. She may not be all she seems," Karen warned.

He ran his hands over his black hair. "It's mind boggling. This case has more twists and turns than a can of worms. We need to start at the beginning and put some chronological order to it. We need to have a brainstorming session."

"Not today," Karen returned. "Neither of us had enough sleep last night. Best to start with a fresh mind. I'm going home. See you in the morning. Matt already told me I'm off guarding Dana."

"Everybody is. This latest attempt to kidnap her should change that. I can't just leave her there alone. If Dumheller can break in so can anyone else."

"Who's with her now?"

"Mama and Jenny. I told Jenny not to let anybody in but me. I'd best get moving." He made printouts of the information on the computer and went to his desk to get his .25 automatic. The .45 would have to wait until he had a car.

He went to the drugstore to buy condoms, and while he was there, he purchased colored chalk and pencils along with a large sketch pad for Dana. He thought if she tried to draw her thoughts it might hasten the recovery of her memory. He needed for her to remember. He needed to know she hadn't been involved in anything illegal.

"Something smells fishy in here," he said as he walked in the door.

Jenny grinned from the other side of the eating counter. "I fried that haddock for dinner. I also made home fries and a salad. I saved some back for you."

"Where's Mama?"

"She's taking a nap in your bed. Dana is sorting through the clothes the young woman across the hall brought her."

"I told you not to let anyone in but me or Reese."

"I didn't."

"I did," Dana called from where she sat on the couch. "I didn't think Sunny's considered dangerous."

"That's not the point. What if it had been someone like those two that tried to abduct you last night?"

"What if...what if. I'm not so stupid as to open the door to someone questionable. Sunny cleaned out her closets and gave me the discards. Now I have more than a dress and a pair of sweats."

Drew dropped the bag from the drugstore on the coffee table after he removed the condoms. "I brought you a present. I thought maybe if you draw some of those flashbacks, it might help you remember better."

She shrugged. "Perhaps."

"After I eat I have to start calling around to find an assisted living facility for Mama." He went to the kitchen and sat down on a stool in front of the food Jenny set out for him. "Jenny, I want your input on any place we select. I trust your judgment completely, especially where Mama is concerned."

"Someplace comfortable and close to you. I'm counting on you visiting often enough to keep her contented. That isn't easy these days."

"Does she still play cards as good as she did?"

"Uh-ha. That's one thing that hasn't changed. She beats me every time and I'm no novice."

"We'll have to find a place where there are people who like to play cards." He grinned. "Try to keep her to bridge and not poker. This is good. Your are still the best cook going."

Dana came and leaned over the counter. "You haven't tasted my cooking yet."

"If it's as good as you draw I'm looking forward to it. I need to talk to you in private. Not now. I have more pressing matters at hand. Do the names Jackson Curtis and Giles Pendrift mean anything to you?"

"Should they?"

"That's the two men who tried to kidnap you last night. They both have a string of aliases."

Dana squeezed her eyes tight shut as she concentrated on trying to remember. "When I was waking up after that shot, before I opened my eyes, I heard them talking. None of it made sense to me. Something about Belize. Isn't that a country?"

"Yeah. It's in Central America, south of Mexico."

"Anyway I heard one of them call another one Jack. That's all."

"Must have been Curtis. He's the big guy that was chasing you." He stood up and carried his empty dishes to the sink. "Time to get to work."

He called nine different senior housing outfits before he found one to his liking. "Out on Long Island, Mama."

Mama had just come from the bedroom after her nap. She was a little disoriented at first until Jenny explained where she was. "How can I get used to anything when it keeps changing every day?"

"Do you want to ride out to Long Island and look at this place to see if it suits you?" Drew asked.

"I don't want to but you probably won't let me rest until I do. I want to go back to Tennessee."

"You can't do that. What you can do is have Jonah ship some of your things up here so it's a little more homey. I'll go bring the car around to the front."

"I just know I'm not going to like it," Mrs. Ward said as Drew took the on ramp to the Long Island Expressway.

"Just give it a chance, Mama," Drew advised as he steered the SUV into traffic.

"Here we are," he said as he pulled the vehicle into a parking space near the front door. The woman he had talked to on the phone was waiting for them. "We only have one two-bedroom unit available. Would you like a wheelchair?" she asked Constance.

"No! I have Alzheimer's. There's nothing wrong with the rest of me."

"I'm Mrs. Warren. If you decide to take the unit, you will see a lot of me."

"Actually I want to go back to Tennessee but they tell me I can't." Mama sighed deeply. "It might as well be here as anywhere else. I'm too tired to care. Things keep changing so fast I don't know who I am." Another sigh.

After the elevator ride to the second floor, Mrs. Warren escorted them into a room overlooking Long Island Sound. "There's a good view from the balcony. We have protecting fencing up so a resident can't fall or jump from the balcony. It's just a safety measure."

"There's no furniture," Jenny declared.

"We allow residents to bring their own or we can provide minimal furnishings. We also provide hospital beds, if needed. We can temporarily supply your needs until you purchase your own."

Drew asked, "Do you provide transportation to and from the store? I work long hours sometimes and I'd like for Mama to have all her needs provided for. Her cognitive skills aren't too diminished at this point. I just want her to have what she needs and wants. I have power of attorney and am a trustee of her bank account. Any bills should come to me. I can supply Jenny with an allowance so she can buy the necessities."

"We prefer if a family member can do the shopping or transport the residents to appointments and shopping. We do provide transportation by bus if there is no other way. Perhaps your wife..," She looked at Dana.

Drew held up his left hand showing no wedding ring. "I'm not married."

"I'm not riding any damn bus," Mama said bluntly.

Drew grinned at her candor. "I can send a car for you when necessary."

"You promised you'd come to see me as often as you can," she pouted.

"I'll do that, Mama, but you must realize that the nature of my work doesn't allow me to just take off any time. I'm sure you don't want me coming to see you in the middle of the night. I have responsibilities. I'll visit you as time allows."

"What kind of work do you do, Mr. Ward?"

"That's Lieutenant Ward. I'm a homicide detective with NYPD and right now my cell phone is vibrating. Excuse me a minute." Drew walked out of hearing distance before answering his phone. "What can I do for you, Chuck?"

"Where are you?"

"Long Island checking out an assisted living facility for Mama."

"Meet me at your place as soon as possible. I just learned something that you should know about."

"Can't you tell me over the phone?"

"Too sensitive. How long do you need?"

"I don't know. We'll have to do the paperwork. Can you give me an hour?"

"Sure. Make sure Dana Terrell is with you. This affects her, too."

"Yup. Talk to you later, Chuck." Drew disconnected and scrolled down to Reese's number. "Where are you?"

"Standing outside your apartment door. Where are Mother and Jenny?"

"With me. We're checking out an assisted living facility on Long Island."

"Can you drop them off at the hotel on your way back? It's nearly five o'clock."

"Meet me at the front entrance. I'll tell you more then. Do not allow any family members to leave that suite unless you are with them. Make sure your door is locked whenever you are inside. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, but this requires an explanation."

"I told you I'll explain. It has to do with the attempted kidnapping of Dana last night. I'll call you when I'm five minutes away." He put his phone back in the pocket of his jacket. "How long will it take to do the paperwork and when can they move in?"

"The paperwork will take about fifteen minutes. They can move in anytime after that. The rent for the rest of December is due at that time. After that it will be due on the first of each month. A fee is charged if it's late."

"Let's get this over with."

Reese was waiting at the hotel's front entrance just like Drew told him to be. The doorman opened the car door for Mama and Jenny to disembark while Drew filled Reese in on some of the details. "I'll call you later. Right now I have an appointment with an FBI agent."

"As a cop or a suspect?"

Drew grinned. "As a cop. We do work with the FBI now and then," he said as he went back around the car to slide behind the wheel.

Chuck was waiting in the parking lot where Drew had his reserved parking places. Before Drew had a chance to switch off the engine, Chuck was out of the big black SUV with U.S. government plates. Briefcase in hand, he opened the passenger door for Dana. "Miss Terrell, I'm FBI Special Agent Charles Davidson."

Dana had turned to the side with her feet out the door. She stopped and looked around at Drew. "It's okay. He's one of the good guys."

She allowed Chuck to take her hand to assist her down. "You must understand that I have reasons to be suspicious of the FBI."

Chuck grinned down at her. "I loved that picture of you pushing that toilet plunger in Drumheller's face. That man is a pain in the ass."

"You have pictures?"

"Thanks to a fast-thinking cop." He turned to Drew. "That young lady deserves a promotion."

"She's a good one. Don't get in a fight with her. She'll lay you low quicker than a quart of moonshine. Mixed martial arts is her specialty." Drew wanted to get down to brass tacks. As he pushed the button to bring the elevator to the first floor he asked Chuck, "What's this about, Chuck?"

"Wait till we get up to your apartment. First we sweep for bugs."

"My apartment is bugged?"

"Yup. There was a very interesting tape hanging from my front door knob when I got home from church this morning. I checked the security tapes. The man who delivered them had something over his face."

"When was it bugged?"

"Possibly while you were out last night. Another possibility is when Drumheller broke into your place yesterday."

"Was that only yesterday? It seems like a week." Drew fitted his key in the lock and opened the door.

"Be quiet," Chuck ordered. "These tapes are noise activated."

"I don't care," Dana whispered. "I need to use the bathroom." She went through the bedroom.

Chuck found one bug under the edge of Drew's desk; another one on the headboard to the bed. Chuck even swept the bathroom, the kitchen and the laundry room. He found two more bugs under the dining room table and beneath the edge of the eating counter. He put them in a small plastic bag.

Before he could put them in a soundproof box, Drew took the bag from him and held it up to his mouth and whistled sharply. "Take that, you bastards."

Chuck took a tape from his briefcase and handed it to Drew. "I'll let you do the honors."

Drew put the tape in his stereo and turned it on. "That's Karen and Dana talking. Karen hasn't been in my apartment since yesterday afternoon. It had to be Drumheller or one of the men with him."

"It wasn't one of my guys. I asked. I let them know they are already in hot water and they better not lie. I'm sure they told me the truth."

Drew fast-forwarded the tape to the previous night. He let it play a little bit of his telephone conversations with Hank. Then he heard, "Where the hell have you been?" and he knew he'd reached the point of Dana's return. He fast-forwarded to where he and Dana went to bed. "Bastards," he grated out as he heard the moans and groans of their lovemaking. He turned it off and took out the tape.

His arm was in the forward motion of throwing it against the wall when Chuck grabbed it from him. "That's evidence."

"Like hell! I don't want them playing that in court."

Chuck gave him a sober look. "You're walking a tightrope, Drew. Don't fall off on the wrong side."

"What's between Dana and me is nobody's business but ours. We're both single and of age."

Dana sat on the couch with her hands over her face. She stood up and faced Chuck. "It was my fault, not Drew's."

"Actually it was consensual. Dana is no longer a witness. Morrison's dead."

"That's true. But her life could be in danger. She still needs protection."

"If the feds had done their job to keep her safe she wouldn't be in this situation. I'll keep her safe."

Drew brought out the pictures of Curtis and Pendrift. "These are the two men who tried to abduct her last night."

"They're in New York?"

"Were last night."

"I'll put some agents on it to see if we can track them down. Until then, don't let Dana out of your sight. Do you need a couple of agents to stay with her during the day?"

"Maybe. I'll let you know. Dana, tell Chuck what you remember about Drumheller, Curtis and Pendrift kidnapping you from Spokane."

When Dana finished, Chuck looked at Drew. "This takes the whole case out of your hands. As of now it's an FBI case. We'll take Dana into protective custody."

"No!" Dana objected. "Do I have to submit to that? I did it once and they still found me. I want to stay with Drew."

"I can't force you to accept protection, but I recommend it. Maybe we can come up with a compromise. Maybe we can have a female agent stay with you during the day so Drew can get on with his work."

"We'll let you know," Drew said.

"Now," Chuck delved into his briefcase one more time and brought out a paper. "I printed this out so you will believe me. It comes straight from Washington." He passed the paper to Drew.

Drew read it and cursed. "This can't be true."

"It is. There is no record of a Dana Terrell in the witness protection program."

Drew watched the color drain from Dana's face. "Then who am I?" She asked.

# Chapter 11

"What's wrong?" Drew put his hands on Dana's shoulders and pulled her back against him.

She turned around and slid her arms around him, laying her head against his chest. "I don't even know who I am."

"You are Dana Terrell and I have a copy of a Washington driver's license to prove it. Until we learn something more, that's how it is." He kissed the top of her head and loosened her arms. "I'm going to work out."

Drew stripped down to his boxer briefs and socks to exercise on the treadmill and lift weights. Dana showered while he worked out, and for a brief time, she watched him, mesmerized by the way his muscles rippled beneath his perspiration coated skin. She wondered what he would say if she told him she loved him. Karen had warned her not to become romantically attached to him.

"He has commitment issues," Karen had told her. "His ex-wife really did him dirty. I don't know all the details. Maybe I'm better off that way. Deirdre not only cheated on him but she helped set him up to make it look like he was a crooked cop on the take. Even though he was cleared of all charges, there was still doubt about his integrity. So he left Nashville and came to New York. He doesn't talk about it much. But what Deirdre did to him soured him on women. To him women are only good for one thing."

"Bedroom and kitchen," Dana guessed.

"Bedroom. Drew knows how to cook."

Dana curled up on one end of the couch with the TV remote in her hand. She flipped through the channels until she found one that interested her. She liked the educational channels to help supplement the memories she had lost and to slow down those images marching through her mind.

Drew came from the bedroom in tee shirt and white boxer briefs smelling like after shave, his wet hair falling forward over his face. "What are you watching?"

"Nature. It's about baby animals."

He sat down on the couch and propped his bare feet on the coffee table. "Come here so I can put my arm around you."

She scooted over and leaned on his shoulder. She almost told him she loved him. His nearness, the smell of him and his powerful muscles all combined to stir up emotions that had come to the fore the night before. She wondered how he could have sex with her like that without the emotional feelings that came with it. Maybe she had best heed Karen's advice. She turned her attention back to the TV screen to watch the lion cubs frisk on the African savannah.

When she let out a little cry and covered her face with her hands, Drew thought she was reacting to the brutality of the new alpha male lion killing and eating a cub sired by his predecessor. But even after he turned the television off, she began shaking. "It's all right, sweetie. That's how it is in the wild. Survival of the fittest." He wanted to add that was how it was with the human race. But that was only partly true. He hugged her close until she pushed away.

Taking her sketch pad, pencils and chalk, she went to the kitchen to sit at the eating counter directly under one of the stainless steel shaded lights. She began to draw.

Drew came and placed his hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Go leave me alone for now."

"I only want to help you."

"Then go. Get away from me!"

Her tone angered him. "This is my apartment and I'll do as I damn please."

She looked up at him with woebegone eyes. "Please," she whispered.

He stepped back regarding her seriously. Without another word he returned to the living room and lay down on the couch to watch television. He found a movie he thought might be interesting and turned down the sound so he wouldn't disturb her. He kept glancing her way until she quit working and just stared at the sketch pad. Then she flipped it over and bowed her head in her hands.

He turned off the TV and went to the kitchen. He startled her when he laid his hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

She shook her head sadly and swiveled the stool around to lean against him. "Hold me."

He encircled her in an embrace and held her close. "Dana, what's wrong?" She didn't answer so he reached out and turned the sketch over so he could see what she drew. It gave him a mental jolt. A blond young woman in a pink dress hung from a rope. Her eyes were open so Drew guessed she was dead. "Who is she?"

Dana straightened and swiped at tears with her hand. "I can't remember her name. This is what I remembered."

"Murder or suicide?"

"Suicide. She wanted me to find her that way. She wanted me to feel guilty the rest of my life. The rest is right at the edge of my mind but I can't pull it out."

"Do you want to?"

"I don't really want to remember this but if that's what I must do to regain the rest of my memory, so be it."

"What did you do after you found her?"

"Threw up. Then I called 911. Then I called Drumheller. He gave me a new identity and took me to Spokane. Everything between that night and the night I was kidnapped is just one big void."

He pulled her to her feet and held her close gently stroking her golden fuzz. He almost murmured those damning words. Those words he refused to say to any woman. But Dana wasn't just any woman. She needed him, and if he admitted it to himself, he needed her. How he had reached this point in three days was beyond him.

"We'd best go to bed. Neither one of us got enough sleep last night. I need to be at work by eight and you are going with me."

"Why?"

"I'm not leaving you here alone as long as Curtis and Pendrift are on the loose. There will probably be a bail hearing in the morning for Drumheller. I hope to get bail withheld on grounds that he's a flight risk. I don't know how long Chuck will give me before the FBI takes over my case. I'll just have to take it one day at a time. I doubt the FBI will take over the cases of Morrison's and Mitchell's murders. They won't suspect that Drumheller committed them. I don't want to think about that at this moment. I just want to think about you and make love to you."

"You want to have sex with me," Dana corrected. "To make it love you must love the person you're with."

If you only knew, he thought as he guided her to the bedroom.

Dana was slow to respond to his kisses because she had other things on her mind. He gave her the time she needed by keeping the foreplay tender. He lit a spark inside her and it turned into a small flame. She ran her tongue over his lips and he repaid in kind but going a little farther. As his tongue probed her mouth that little flame became a raging inferno that engulfed her. She straddled him and allowed her passion to hold sway until she reached her climax and lay on him panting for breath.

He reached down beside the bed and got his shorts. "Put these between your legs to soak up the semen so you don't get the bed all messed up. Oh, shit! I forgot to use a condom."

She rolled aside and got up to go to the bathroom. When she returned wearing the sweats she used as pajamas, he lay on his back with his arms behind his head. His eyes were closed and there was a smile of contentment on his face.

She got back in bed and snuggled into his arms. The dam burst and the tears poured down her cheeks. He reached down and got his tee shirt for her to use as a handkerchief. Then he just held her and let her cry herself out.

****

"Dana, this is Captain Hallinan. He runs this department. Matt, this is Dana Terrill."

"Close the door, Drew. Miss Terrell please sit down." Matt had stood up when they came into his office so he sat down again. "Why is Miss Terrell here?" His question was directed to Drew.

"You can't expect me to leave her home alone after what happened Saturday night. Not with Curtis and Pendrift still around. They aren't trying to kill her; they're trying to abduct her. Why, I don't know. Until she recovers her more of her memory, she can't tell us."

Matt tossed a cassette tape across to Drew. "Can you explain that?"

Drew's face flushed red. He glanced at Dana. She put her hands over her face. "Please don't play that again."

"They must have sent one to everyone. Who's next? The commissioner; the mayor? It's just what it sounds like. Someone bugged my apartment."

"You're skating on thin ice. A relationship with Miss Terrell is unethical and a conflict of interest. She is a potential witness."

"She was a witness to the shooting of Blaine Thomas and Sean Moore. The man who shot them is dead. Therefore, she is not a potential witness in that case. She needs protection to keep her from being kidnapped again."

"Again?"

"She remembers Drumheller, Curtis and Pendrift abducting her from her home in Spokane, Washington. The FBI is taking over the case. How soon I don't know. Chuck said he'd try to give me a little time."

"Time for what?"

"To try to find out who killed Morrison and Mitchell and why. I think someone was just trimming off some loose ends. Someone like Drumheller."

"Do you have evidence to back that up?"

"Nope. Whoever bopped me on the head stole it. I have a witness to his threatening Sean Moore when he was in the ICU but the syringe and tape recorder are gone. They weren't in my car when CSI went over it. My guess is that Drumheller was watching Mitchell and cleaned up the scene before calling 911. That call came from a disposable cell phone that is no longer in service."

"We're due at the D.A.'s office in fifteen minutes so we better get moving. He wants you to tell him why Drumheller should be kept in jail."

Drew grinned as he stood up. "Because he's a threat to the whole human race."

They met with Assistant D.A. Mike Spencer in the law library of the courthouse. The first thing he did was toss a tape in front of Drew. "I'd like you to explain this."

"It's just what it sounds like," Drew answered. "Some son-of-a-bitch bugged my apartment. Apparently he sent copies of that tape to everyone in a position of authority. They're going to try to set me up. I can feel it coming."

"What the hell have you been drinking? She's a witness not your mistress. We could lose the case."

"It won't be our case much longer anyway," Drew shot back. "The FBI's taking it over because of the kidnapping that happened in Spokane. And that takes precedence over our charges of breaking and entering, etc."

"Are they going to put her back in the witness protection program?"

"No!" Dana spoke up. "I won't go through that again. They didn't protect me. My contact helped kidnap me. I want to stay with Drew."

"What did you do? Brainwash her?"

"No," she stated. "It is my free choice. I feel safe with Drew."

"We can't afford to pull cops off the street to protect her," Hallinan broke in.

"Chuck said they might be able to spare a couple female FBI agents to guard her while I'm working," Drew explained. "I'll be there at night unless I get called out."

"What happens then?" Hallinan demanded.

"I don't know. Take her along like I'm doing now. I can't risk leaving her alone. If I could just figure out why they're trying to snatch her. The answer lies in the things she can't remember. But she is remembering more every day." Drew picked up his briefcase and took out the drawing she'd made the night before.

"It just came to her while she was watching TV. She went to the kitchen and began drawing."

Spencer studied the drawing of the woman hanging from the wrought iron work that supported an aluminum awning over a patio.

"After that Drumheller told me my identify was comprised. He gave me a new ID, Dana Terrell, and moved me to Spokane. That's all I remember."

"It seems you have a very convenient memory. You remember just the right thing at just the right time."

She shrugged. "I have little control over it. Once a memory occurs I can expand it by association. Dr. Fenton taught me to do that. Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn't."

Spencer checked his watch. "Time to get over to the courtroom." He stood up.

Judge Louise King settled herself in the chair at her bench and picked up papers before her. "We are here for a bail hearing for Lewis Drumheller." She looked at the D.A. "Can you establish a reason Agent Drumheller should be held without bail?"

"I think I can, Your Honor. I'd like to call Lieutenant Drew Ward to the stand."

"His name is Andrew Ward," She reminded.

Capt. Hallinan looked at Drew and rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long day. Judge King could be very unfriendly when she took the notion.

Drew told in detail why he thought Drumheller should be held without bail. "I feel his being loose on the street would pose a danger to Miss Terrell."

Drumheller's attorney argued, "You seem to have everything but motive. Why would Special Agent Drumheller harm the woman he is supposed to protect?"

"You tell me. Why would Agent Drumheller threaten a wounded police officer in the ICU? Why would he break into my apartment, handcuff one of the police officers who were there to defend Miss Terrell, pistol whip the other one and hit her so hard he broke her jaw, and then try to abduct Miss Terrell? I have photos to prove that."

The D.A. carried the copies of the photographs that Terri took with her cell phone to the judge. She leafed through them until she came to the last one. Then the shadow of a smile touched her lips. Drew couldn't see her but Hallinan could. He knew they'd won.

"I hereby order Agent Drumheller be held without bail until the charges can be proved or disproved." She brought her gavel down hard. "Hearing adjourned."

"Just a minute, Your Honor." Chuck Davidson walked up to the bench and handed the judge a document. "The FBI is taking over Special Agent Drumheller's case. There are two U.S. Marshalls here to take him into custody and escort him to Quantico."

Judge King studied the document. She raised her hands shoulder high in "hands off" gesture. "So be it."

Drew stepped down from the witness stand. "You didn't give me very much time," he said to Chuck.

"The orders came from Quantico. They want Dana, too."

"No! They can't take her if she doesn't want to go."

Chuck regarded Drew seriously. "We could arrest her for interfering with an FBI investigation." He walked back to where Dana stood and took her arm. "You need to come with us, young lady."

Dana's eyes widened with fear. "No!" She pulled free and ran to the judge who was preparing to leave the courtroom. "Please, Your Honor. Please don't let them take me. Please!"

Judge King motioned to Chuck to come forward. "Is it really necessary that you take her? She seems very frightened."

Chuck looked back at the two marshals. "I will allow her to stay if Captain Hallinan and Lieutenant Ward will guarantee the she will be available when needed. I understand her reasons for being afraid."

As the marshals led Drumheller past Drew and Hallinan, he said to Drew, "You have yourself one little hot tamale there. I know." He arched his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Drew stepped forward with his hands balled in fists.

Hallinan stepped between the two men. "Settle down, Drew. He's just jerking your chain. Go home and get ready for Thomas' funeral."

# Chapter 12

"You had sex with Drumheller." Drew was nose to nose with Dana.

"I did not. I can't even stand the man. I've never liked him."

"How do you know that when you can't remember?" Drew strode angrily from the courtroom leaving her behind with Cpt. Hallinan.

Matt took her arm. "Come on. I'll take you home."

"Home! I don't have a home. If Drew puts me out I'll have nowhere to go."

"He won't put you out. Once he gets over being mad, he'll realize how unreasonable his accusation is." They found Drew in the corridor talking on his cell phone.

"I just got out of court. I thought we agreed we'd take care of the paperwork over my lunch break." He listened a moment and then said, "All right. Have it your way. But I can't go with you this afternoon. I have a funeral to attend. I'm a pall bearer. I'll see you in about a half hour. I have to go pick up my car."

He put his cell phone back in his pocket and turned to follow Matt and Dana to the car. As he caught up with them, he told Matt, "They have my car done. Can you drop me by the dealership?"

"What about Dana?"

"She'll go with me."

"What if I don't want to go with you?" she said.

"I said you will go with me. Is that clearly understood?"

"Not until you apologize for what you said. I never went to bed with Drumheller."

"Whatever." Drew opened the back passenger side door on Matt's blue Lexus. "Get in."

She looked like she didn't trust him but she got in and fastened the seat belt. Drew slid onto the front seat beside Matt. They all remained silent during the ride to the dealership. When Matt pulled up in front of the building, Dana refused to get out. Drew seized her arm and pulled her out forcefully. "Go ahead, Matt. I'll take it from here."

When he got inside, he shoved her onto a chair in the waiting room. "Stay there until I get the paperwork done. Then we'll go to the bank to meet Reese."

Dana perched on the edge of the green upholstered chair as Drew went into a glassed off office. She saw a woman come out a door with a little black placard with white letters: Restroom. Drew wasn't watching her and the man behind the counter was talking on the phone with his back to her. She got up and hurried to the door.

Drew came out of the office with a paper in his hand and looked around. No Dana. He strode over to the counter and demanded, "Where did that girl go?"

The man shrugged. "I wasn't paying attention. I was on the phone."

Drew stomped out the door and turned completely around trying to see her. "She can't have gone too far," he muttered.

Dana came out the door while he had his back turned. When she closed the Jeep's door, he spun around. She could see the anger on his face even before he got to the vehicle.

He yanked open the door on the driver's side. "Where the hell were you?"

"In the restroom," she replied timidly. "I had to go."

He guided his SUV out into traffic. Not a word passed his lips as he drove to the bank where he took her inside. Reese and Jim stood up from chairs in the waiting area.

"It took you long enough to get here," Reese complained.

Drew pointed to a chair. "Stay."

"I'm not a dog," Dana shot back.

Drew followed Reese into an office while Jim and Dana sat on the chairs.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Seventeen," the boy answered.

She smiled. "When I was seventeen..." She stopped because she didn't remember being seventeen. Then it came to her suddenly. "I was in Paris," she continued. "My brother Robbie was there, too."

Her brother's name was Robert, not Anthony. So who was Tony? She could remember her mother calling Tony. The images started rotating in her mind again, going faster and faster until she felt terribly nauseated. She clapped her hand over her mouth.

Jim moved fast with the waste can that sat beside his chair. He set it in front of her just in time. When she was done retching, he gave her his handkerchief to wipe her mouth and hand. He stood up and laid his hand on her shoulder. "I'll be right back."

He darted to the office door behind which his father and uncle had passed. He didn't bother to knock. "Uncle Drew, Dana's sick. She just puked in a waste can."

Drew put his signature on the last paper and turned to the door. "I have to go."

****

"You are not wearing that dress to the funeral. You'd have every cop on the force ogling your legs."

Dana wore the plain black sleeveless dress over a white silky blouse. "You're not my father. It's the only black dress I have."

"You don't even have a coat," Drew complained. "That wind's brutal. We could be standing graveside for a spell." His uniform made him look darkly handsome.

Dana slipped her bare feet into the black suede shoes Sunny had given her. Sunny! She walked out of the bedroom to go across the hall. She came back carrying a black coat, black hat with a wide brim, knee-high black boots and a new packet of black pantyhose. Sunny had lent her what she called her "funeral clothes."

Dana went into the bedroom to slip on the pantyhose and boots. When she returned to the living room, she asked, "Do I pass inspection now?"

"You will once you have the coat and hat on. What about gloves?" He held the coat for her.

"I'll put my hands in the pockets." She looked in the gilt framed mirror above the mahogany buffet to adjust the hat to the right angle so it would cover the scar on her head. "I'm ready."

Drew had already called for a taxi to take them to the church. Because of all the friends and relatives, both in and out of the force, parking would be at a premium. "I'll put you with Matt and Lil. I must sit up front with the pall bearers."

Because of the wounds Thomas had, the casket was closed and covered with a flag. His widow, their six adult children with their spouses and seven grandchildren filled the two front rows on the opposite side of the aisle from where Dana sat with the Hallinans. She listened to the eulogies offered by Capt. Hallinan, the police commissioner and Thomas' eldest son, Troy, who was also a police officer. Apparently, Blaine Thomas had been loved by all and he had given his all to save her. Tears slid down her cheeks and she didn't try to stop them.

When the service ended they carried the flag draped coffin outside and placed it in the hearse. The grieving family followed. Dana stayed with the Hallinans for the drive to the cemetery. They passed beneath two fire trucks with their ladders up, a flag between them to form an arch. It was a moving tribute to the slain officer.

Dana stayed back as the mourners crowded around the grave. She wanted to speak to Mrs. Thomas but she would bide her time. She didn't want to intrude on the family's sorrow. She didn't get the opportunity until the wake which was held in the church's social hall. She saw Mrs. Thomas go to the restroom and was waiting when she came out.

"You don't know me, Mrs. Thomas," she began. "I want to tell you how..." Dana fumbled for the right word. "How sorry I am for your loss." It seemed so trite; what everybody else had been saying all day. "My name is Dana Terrell. I'm the girl that your husband gave his life to save. If I could, I would gladly give my life to have his back." Tears streamed down her face. "But what has already happened cannot be changed. I just want you to know how terribly sorry I am."

The woman in black pulled Dana into her arms and just held her until she found her voice. "Blaine was a good man; the best. I loved him more than anyone in the world. I knew some night he wouldn't come home. But he was doing what he considered his duty, to train the rookies so they could be the next generation of officers. That's not a whole lot of comfort when I go to bed at night and there's this big empty space on the other side. Don't blame yourself. He did his duty. I hope Jesus says to him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant.' Someday I'll see him again." She turned and walked away.

"There you are." Drew came up and took her arm. "It's time we go. Matt said he'll drop us at home."

Outside the apartment door, Dana said, "I'd better take Sunny's coat and things back to her."

"I'll leave the door unlocked for you." Drew waited until she was inside Sunny's apartment before he went inside his apartment.

Dana was emotionally drained by the time she got inside Drew's apartment. She just wanted to change clothes, get something to eat and vege out for a while. Drew was in the bedroom changing his clothes when she entered. He wore just his boxer-briefs and a tee shirt.

"You always walk in on a man when he's in his underwear?" he asked gruffly.

She stared at him a moment. "I've seen you naked..." She reached back to unzip her dress.

"That was before I knew about you and Drumheller. I don't want his leftovers."

She took a step forward and swung her arm with all the power she possessed to land a slap on his cheek. "I told you! I never went to bed with him!" she screamed.

Drew clamped his hand around her wrist and bent her arm back till her shoulder hurt. "Don't you ever do that again," He said through clenched teeth. "Get out of my apartment! Go!"

Dana didn't argue. She jerked free and ran to the living room where she found the suede shoes and slipped them on. She ran out the door and started down the stairs. She was so upset and she didn't want anyone to see her like that. She didn't bother to count the floors until she almost fell. Then she slowed down and looked at the plaque beside the door to the corridor; fifth floor. She continued until she came to the first floor. She exited through the end door next to where Drew's Gran Cherokee was parked.

Walking fast, she crossed the parking lot to the sidewalk and headed down the street with no idea where she was going except away from Drew. The lump in her throat felt as big as a tennis ball. The heartache she felt was more than just the scathing rebuke she had received from him. She realized that in a few days' time she had fallen in love with him. She just walked along oblivious of the other people on the street.

She was a stranger in New York; not just a stranger--a homeless stranger. She didn't know where to go. "The police station," she murmured. Surely someone there could tell her where to find help. It was the one place she knew how to find. She had to go right away. Without a coat, she could develop hyperthermia quickly.

****

Officer Terri Sylvan said to her partner, "See that girl there without a coat. That's Dana Terrell. That's the dress she wore to Thomas' funeral. Let me out." Before she closed the car door she told Doug Chantell, "Keep pace with us. I'm going to find out why she's out here."

Terri was five ten and in excellent physical condition. Her quick strides overtook Dana. When she laid a hand on Dana's arm, the girl came around ready to fight.

"I'll don't think you want to do that, honey," Terri said. "Why are you out here like this?"

Dana could stop the tears no longer. "Drew told me to get out."

Terri guided her to the curb where Doug stopped the squad car. She opened the back door. "I'm going to call Drew and find out what's up."

"He has it crossways in his brain that I slept with Drumheller. I can't even stand the man."

Terri looked around with a grin. "Drew or Drumheller."

Dana saw no humor in it. "Drumheller. He makes me sick."

Terri opened her cell phone and called up Drew's number. He answered on the first ring. "Yeah, Terri."

"Did you lose something?"

"About five two, short blond hair, black dress?"

"Uh-ha."

"Bring her back. I'll meet you down in the parking lot."

"She says you told her to get out."

"Yup. Sometimes I stick my foot in my mouth. I'm already on my way down." He was waiting when the cruiser pulled up to the north entrance. He came forward to open the back door.

Dana refused to budge. "Not until you apologize."

Drew leaned in and undid her seat belt. "I'm getting tired of pulling you out of cars."

"Then don't." She could smell the whiskey on his breath.

He took her by the arms and pulled her out. "Thanks, guys. I'll take it from here."

Dana stood still, hugging herself because of the cold.

"Are you going to walk up those steps or do I have to carry you?"

"I didn't hear an apology."

He threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and headed for the door. She pummeled him with her fists and tried to direct a kick below the belt. All she accomplished was to lose her shoes.

Drew squatted down to retrieve the shoes. "Hold still so I can punch in the numbers to unlock the door." He managed to push the right keys and carried her inside. "Stop squirming around or we're going to fall down the steps backward."

He set her on her feet on the second floor landing. Taking her face in his hands, he said softly, "I'm sorry I doubted you. I'm mad as hell that the FBI took my case away. I shouldn't take it out on you. Here's your shoes unless you want me to carry you the rest of the way."

She left him standing there holding her shoes as she ran ahead up the next flight of stairs and on to the ninth floor. The door was unlocked so she ran inside. Drew came along behind her carrying her shoes.

Sunny's door opened just as he stepped from the stairwell. "They'll never fit. Your feet are too big."

He grinned. "Dana's."

"I know. I gave them to her. How's she doing?"

"She has me going in circles."

Sunny chuckled. "Good." She headed for the elevators.

Drew dropped the shoes inside the door and went on to the bedroom where Dana was changing clothes. He watched as she pulled on the taupe slacks she'd worn that morning, topping them with a purple sweater. She sat down on the bed to pull on socks. "I'm about frozen."

"Don't complain to me about it. You're the one that ran out without a coat."

"You told me to get out."

"So I did. You should have given me a minute to cool off."

"How am I supposed to know when you're serious? If you say it, I take it that you mean it."

He walked over to stand in front of her. "I'll remember that. You're right. I'm sorry for being so mean."

She stood up. "I never slept with Drumheller. Please believe me."

He pulled her against him. "I do. What am I going to do with you?"

She snuggled against him. "That really hurt deep down. I love you."

He grasped her shoulders and held her away. "Don't do that. I'll only break your heart."

"To late. I love you. If you don't love me in return, I'll take what you're willing to give until you've had enough of me and kick me out for real. I'm hungry." She headed for the kitchen.

He followed her. "With all that food at the wake, you're hungry."

"There were cops two deep around the food tables. All I could manage to grab were a few shrimps and a couple of those lobster cakes."

The phone rang and Drew changed direction to answer it. He saw an unfamiliar area code and said warily, "Hello."

"Sergeant Orren here. I'm in Spokane. I just talked to Dana's neighbor. She's been worried about her. When Dana disappeared, Mrs. Slater reported her missing. Then she got a call from an FBI Agent that he had Dana in protective custody. Guess what that agent's name is."

"Lewis Drumheller."

"Right! I told Mrs. Slater what I know about Dana. She couldn't add much except that she cleaned up the mess in Dana's cottage after the cops were through. She's been keeping up with the mail and such. It seems Miss Terrell had a very lucrative business going in her home."

"Please don't tell me she was a hooker."

Orren laughed out loud. "An artist. Not an artist who goes out and paints landscapes and sells them for whatever she can get. She designs fabric. She also designs clothes and has her own label. Elenore." Orren spelled it out. "And she does portraits on request. She does do the landscape thing, too, but that isn't her chief source of income."

"Now I'll give you an update on what has happened since Saturday. Drumheller broke into my apartment on Saturday and tried to abduct Dana. I had him in jail and the judge denied bail. Then Dana remembered that Drumheller and two other bastards kidnapped her from her home in Spokane. The FBI has taken away the case. U.S. marshals walked right into the courtroom and took Drumheller away. They wanted to take Dana, too, but she wouldn't go with them. She said they didn't protect her before. Anyway, she's still here with me.

"The two other men involved are Jack Curtis on the FBI's most wanted list and Giles Pendrift wanted internationally for just about any crimes you can think of. I had my hands on Pendrift and didn't know it was him. The picture in his file shows a man with hair. He's almost bald now. They tried to abduct Dana right from the Hilton Hotel in downtown Manhattan. I don't know what she's cooking up in the kitchen but it smells good. I'll get back to you when I know more."

Drew hung up and went to the kitchen where Dana was making a BLT sandwich. "That smells good. Did you make enough for me?"

"You said you weren't hungry."

"That was before I smelled the bacon. Sit still. I'll fry my own bacon. I know how to cook."

"So I've been told."

When Drew sat down with his sandwich, she asked, "So, was I a hooker?"

He grinned and swallowed. "An artist. A designer of fabric and clothing. You have your own fashion label, 'Elenore'."

She frowned. "I don't remember." She remained thoughtful throughout the evening. When she came from showering, Drew was running on the treadmill. She lay down on the couch to watch TV but she didn't pay much attention to it. She was mulling over the new information about her past.

After exercising, Drew went to shower. Dana went to the bedroom and slid beneath the soft blanket. She wondered how long it would be before Drew tired of her and put her out for real. She was just a convenience for him. Sex without commitment.

# Chapter 13

"Someone's at the door." Dana shook Drew by the shoulder.

His eyes popped open and he listened as the doorbell rang again. "Hell." He propelled himself out of bed and grabbed a pair of black sweat pants from a dresser drawer. "Get something on," he ordered as he hurried to answer the door.

"Chuck. Iris. Come in. I guess I overslept." Drew stepped back. "I hope you'll excuse me while I go to the bathroom."

"Tell Miss Terrell I'd like to speak to her." Chuck set his briefcase on the coffee table and helped his wife out of her dark blue coat.

They stood waiting for a few minutes until Dana came from the bedroom barefoot and dressed in a silky purple blouse and black slacks. "Would you like some coffee?"

"No, thank you," Iris responded. "I had my morning coffee. Chuck will take coffee anytime anyone offers it."

Dana poured three cups of coffee. "How do you take yours, Agent Davidson?"

"With milk. Call me Chuck. This is my wife, FBI Special Agent Dr. Iris Davidson." He followed Dana to the kitchen. "Before you drink any coffee I'd like to take a DNA sample." He held a plastic tube and a swab.

"Why?" Dana poured milk in her and Chuck's coffee.

"To try to find out what's going on with your identity. Quantico wants a DNA sample, fingerprints and pictures."

"You going to send them through the mail?" Drew asked as he came to the kitchen fully dressed. He picked up his cup of black coffee and took a sip.

"No. Quantico wants them sent by special courier. There's an Army helicopter waiting for them. I know you have a copy of her driver's license. Can you print it out for me?"

"Sure." Drew went to his desk and flipped on his laptop. "What about a current picture?"

"I just took one with my cell phone." Chuck showed him the photo. "Will you print it out for me?"

"If you keep on, I'm going to charge you for paper."

"Send a bill to the FBI. Iris, will you please do her fingerprints? By the way, Dana, Iris will be staying with you today. For your protection. Since NYPD brass has decided you are no longer their problem."

When she came from the bathroom after washing the ink from her hands, she sorted through the sketches she did of memories. She passed the one of the woman hanging from the awning. "Can you find out who she is? I used to live with her. I can't remember her name. It starts with a K."

"I'll make a copy," Drew said. "You want to keep the original." His cell phone rang as he gave the copy to Chuck. "Yeah, Karen?"

"I thought we start work around here at eight. Where are you?"

"Home. I'm working. Chuck Davidson is here. What's up?"

"Five bodies. Shot execution style."

"I'll pick you up in five minutes." Drew went to the closet for his brown leather jacket. "I have to go."

"I'll go down with you." Chuck put the drawing in his briefcase and picked it up.

"I'm taking the stairs."Drew was out the door.

****

"What do we have here?" Drew asked Officer Doug Chantell.

"Five bodies. Shot in the back of the head execution style. Their faces are painted yellow and orange. Blaze's signature. Two female; three male."

"Okay. Get over to the other side of the tape and don't track up the crime scene. Let the CSI's do their work. Do we know who reported it?"

"A homeless woman flagged us down and told us. She's in the back seat of our squad car. I figured you'd want to talk to her."

Drew pointed to the cruiser. "Karen." He began by checking the carotid pulse of each victim. "Hi, Doc," he said as the M.E. walked up and knelt down at the first man just as Drew leaned down to feel the pulse of the man in the middle of the line. "This one's alive!" He shouted. "Call for an ambulance and paramedics. Doc!"

The M.E. was already at his side. He helped Drew extract the man from the next victim beside him. Then he knelt down to examine the man, removing his black knit hat. "Look at this, Drew. I've heard of bulletproof vests but this is the first bulletproof hat I've ever seen."

When Drew took the hat a bullet fell out. "Bag that."

"First bullet hit the back of his head. He must have fallen forward and the second bullet grazed his scalp. Not life threatening, but he's lost a lot of blood. The Kevlar saved him from the bullet penetrating his skull but it would have been a serious blow to his head. Let's move him back away from here so the paramedics don't mess up the crime scene."

Chantell started forward to help. Drew yelled at him. "Chantell! I told you to stay beyond the crime tape so you don't track up the evidence."

"I just wanted to help."

"If we need your help we'll ask for it. Just stay back." The ambulance was already coming back the alley and he could hear the sirens of the paramedics' van.

Drew walked to Chantell and Sylvan's cruiser. "What do we have, Karen?"

Karen stepped back so Drew could talk to the old woman. If she was cleaned up and dressed properly she could be anybody's grandmother. "You found the bodies?"

"Yes, sir. It scared me at first. I almost ran away but I knew I had to report it. I just got to the end of the alley when I saw the police car. I ran out into the street and waved my arms. Are you going to take me downtown?"

"No. Thank you for reporting it." Drew took out his wallet and gave her a twenty dollar bill. "Go buy yourself a hot meal and coffee. You did give Sergeant Hall your name and where you're staying, didn't you?"

"Oh, yes, sir."

"Good. You can go now." He stepped back so she could get out of the car. "Karen, I want you to ride along in the ambulance. Nobody gets near that man but medical personnel and me. Got that?"

"Drew, come here!" the M.E. shouted.

Drew strode back the alley toward him. "What is it?"

"This one's just a kid. She can't be more than sixteen."

"They get younger all the time," Drew responded bitterly. "I want ID's ASAP. I'm going to talk to the workers in the warehouse." Drew noticed several men standing on the loading docks watching the proceedings.

He walked over. "Does anyone know what happened here?"

"No," replied a man Drew guessed was the foreman. "They were there when we came in. By then there was already a police car here. How long is this gonna take? There's a truck coming in. The driver called to tell me he just crossed the GW."

"It will take a while. Is there some other place he can unload?"

"Another dock back there." He jerked his thumb to the end of the building farther back the alley. "But you guys have the alley blocked."

"Is it a dead end?" Drew looked back the length of the alley.

"No. It turns back to the employees' parking lot and on to the next street. But that's a one-way street."

"I'll take care of that. Call your driver and tell him to use that street." Drew headed back to the alley. "Terri, take my Jeep back to the employees' parking lot. Bring me the keys. Chantell, park your squad car across the entrance to the next street over. Then one of you can get down to this end." He motioned toward the entrance of the alley. "Stop traffic when you see a truck with his turn signal on and wave him in. We need to keep the commerce in the city flowing."

His cell phone rang and he put it to his ear. "Yeah, Karen?"

"You need to get yourself to the hospital now. Maller woke up and won't talk to anybody but you. Is there a young girl among the dead? She's Maller's sister Dora. Maller wants revenge and will do whatever necessary to put Blaze out of business. He said Blaze himself pulled the trigger on these killings."

Drew took off at a trot following Terri and his Gran Cherokee. "I'll be there as quick as I can." He began to run toward the parking lot.

He found Karen holding Maller's hand in the ER while a couple of nurses worked shaving his head so the doctor could sew up the gash where the bullet parted his hair.

"He can't see," Karen said as Drew took his other hand. An IV bag and a bag of blood hung from a stand. "The doctor said his sight may come back or it might not. Depending on how much brain damage there is."

The doctor came over from treating another patient to see the progress being made. "Just put some steri-strips on it for now. He needs an MRI to find out if his brain is swelling. Even with the bulletproof hat, his skull took a hard hit."

"Marv, It's Lieutenant Ward. What do you want to tell me?"

"I can't see you but I know your voice. The bastard killed my kid sister. I want him caught."

"Tell me who he is."

"I can't because I don't know. I do know he's a cop. The reason he shot me is because I saw his face. He always wears that mask with the flames on it. I didn't know he was in there with Cammy. He took off his mask so he could kiss her."

"Whose Cammy?"

"Camilla Becker. She owns the Blue Rose Tavern. She's his woman. She's the one that checks out the new recruits. I mean she checks them out. He doesn't take on anyone she hasn't slept with. She's the only one who knows who he is and she'd never ever give him away. He's a cop and he does a background check on everyone. He knows all the cops so an undercover cop would never get past Cammy."

"You said you saw him. Can you describe him?"

"He's about six feet tall, gray eyes. He's fit so he must work out. Short light brown hair. Good looking guy."

"Any identifying scars or tatoos?"

"Nope."

"You just described about a quarter of NYPD's force."

"I can't tell you any more than that. If I get my sight back, I can look through some mug shots. I'll do anything to put him away. I don't care if I spend the rest of my life in jail for the things I done." Tears welled up in his eyes. "He killed my baby sister and she never did nothing to deserve it. He made me watch as she died. You gotta get him."

"He's got to go for an MRI," A nurse said gently.

"Oh, one more thing," Maller said. "He shot that female cop that was guarding that girl. She took away some of his best dealers."

"Karen, go with him. Don't allow anybody near him but medical personnel. I'll have a guard relieve you and it won't be Doug Chantell."

"Do you suspect Chantell?"

"He seemed too ready to mess up that crime scene this morning. I'm going to ask that he be assigned to desk duty until this is cleared up."

When Drew returned to the station he found the place in a state of confusion. "What's going on?" he asked Hallinan who stood outside his office door while a couple of CSI's swept for bugs.

"They found bugs in the commissioner's office this morning so they're checking the whole building."

"Found two," Smokey Behr said as he stepped out the door.

"Do my desk next," Drew ordered and stood by while they worked.

"One on your desk, one in the phone," Smokey confirmed as he took the phone receiver apart.

"Check my cell, too," Drew ordered.

Smokey complied. "It's clean."

Drew walked over to the captain. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Matt asked as they got in the elevator.

"To the commissioner's office. This is too sensitive to talk about in the open. Has the elevator been swept yet?"

"I don't know."

"It can wait."

Drew expected the commissioner to balk when he asked that Chantell be put on desk duty but all Harris said was, "Give me a reason."

"I can give to several reasons. First of all he didn't do as he was told this morning at the crime scene. I told him to stay back so he didn't track it up. Second, Maller told me Blaze is a cop and Chantell fits the description. Third, I want Terri Sylvan placed on guard so whoever Blaze is, he doesn't try to kill him again. Fourth, Blaze killed Rachel O'Toole."

The commissioner picked up the phone and called Chantell's watch commander and ordered that Chantell be taken off the street. "We need to talk someplace more secure; just in case they missed something when they swept for bugs."

Drew said, "I know just the place. I hope you don't mind having the FBI involved."

"As long as they stay on the sidelines and don't try to take over the case. It's one of our own and I want him caught."

Drew already had his cell phone out. He put it on speaker. "Chuck, we need a secure place where we can discuss the Blaze case."

"My office is secure," Chuck said. "I have it swept every day."

"We'll be over as soon as we can get through traffic." The commissioner stood up and took his overcoat from a corner closet.

Chuck welcomed them to his office that was already situated with three leather chairs facing his desk. "I would guess this isn't a friendly Christmas get together. What's up?"

"Blaze," Harris answered. "He's a cop."

''NYPD?"

"Yup," Drew responded. He went on to inform them of everything Maller had told him. "Maller says he's about six feet tall, light brown hair and gray eyes. Marv said if he gets his vision back he'll go through the mug shots to pick him out."

"That describes a third of the force," Hallinan said.

"Including you," Drew shot back.

"There's got to be a way to get a man undercover," Harris said. "Any ideas?"

"Drew can do it if anybody can," Hallinan put forth.

"Not me," Drew objected. "You told me I wouldn't have to go undercover again. The last time almost got me killed."

"If the Becker woman screens anyone by sleeping with them..." The commissioner rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Your single. Unattached."

"Not my type," Drew reasoned.

"How do you know?" Hallinan asked.

"A body was found on her back door step a few years back. She was the epitome of cooperation. Thinking back, we just eliminated Blaze's competition when we caught his killer. It makes sense now that I know she's involved with Blaze. That body was a warning to Blaze to back off."

"How did you find out about the killer?" Chuck wondered.

"An officer reported it from one of his sources." Drew frowned. "Come to think of it, Chantell reported it. His information was correct. I know. I ran the bastard down in the sewer."

"I know how Drew can go under cover and get away with it," Chuck said. "His cousin Jack Ranson just got out of jail. They look enough alike to be twins."

"How do you know that?" Drew asked, a stunned look on his face.

Chuck grinned. "I was working out of Quantico then. I went to Nashville in hopes of getting Jack to tell us who put up the cash to set you up. He wouldn't talk. He's ready to talk now after his bosses tried to have him killed in prison. He's in a safe house now with your ex. The FBI is going to give them both new identities in the witness protection program. They're going to get married."

"The last thing I want is to become Jack," Drew protested.

"Sounds like a plan to me," the commissioner declared. "We've got to plan it down to the smallest detail. I'd hate to lose a good cop like Drew."

# Chapter 14

"Karen, do you know where Drew is?" Dana tried to keep from crying. "He didn't come home tonight."

"Dana, I'm at shooting scene where a man was killed. I don't have time to socialize."

"I just want to know where Drew is."

"I can't tell you that. You must call Captain Hallinan." Karen disconnected.

Dana searched the phone book for Capt. Hallinan's phone number. "Must be unlisted," she mumbled. She gave up and called the police department. "Can you tell me how I can get in touch with Captain Hallinan?"

"We don't give out private numbers," the woman responded.

"This is very important," Dana said.

"Hold on. I'll see if I can reach him." The woman emitted a deep sigh before putting Dana on hold where she listened to a recording of "Jingle Bells." When the woman came back on the line she told Dana, "He doesn't answer his cell phone or his home phone."

"What about Sergeant O'Connor?"

"He's at a crime scene with Lieutenant Hall. I can take a message."

Dana could hardly get the words out to give her name and number. She didn't have the presence of mind to push the off button before the phone slipped from her fingers. She choked up so she could hardly breathe. Karen and Hank were at a crime scene where a man was shot. Karen was promoted to lieutenant. Drew was missing and Karen wouldn't talk about it. Capt. Hallinan was unavailable.

Dana's legs would no longer hold her. She slipped to the floor and pleaded, "Please, God, don't let it be Drew. Please." Sobs tore from her throat as scalding tears streamed down her face. She didn't know how long she lay there until she got herself under control enough to drag her numb body to the couch where she lay to watch the crime report on TV.

"There was a shooting on the west side. One man is dead and one is in the hospital. Newly promoted, Lieutenant Hall said she can't release the men's identities until their relatives are notified." Dana turned off the television. She went to pick up the phone and tried again to call Karen. It went to voice mail. Dana's voice still held tears as she left a message for Karen to call her.

Dana sat watching television but her mind was elsewhere. Why wouldn't Karen talk to her about Drew? Why was Karen suddenly promoted to lieutenant? Where was Drew? A hundred scenarios paraded through her mind. "Please, God," she sobbed. "Bring Drew home safe and sound." The phone lay on the coffee just in case Karen called her back.

It was past midnight when the phone finally rang. "Dana, this is Karen. I got your message. You sounded like you were crying."

"I don't know where Drew is. I was afraid he got killed. You wouldn't tell me..."

"Oh, Dana, I'm so sorry. It never occurred to me that you might think it was Drew. It was a man who broke into his ex-wife's apartment and tried to kill her and their children. Her boyfriend stepped between them and was shot. Not bad enough to stop him from trying to take the gun from the ex. They struggled for the gun and it went off killing the ex. Do not repeat this to anyone. It hasn't been released to the press yet. I'm telling you for your own peace of mind."

"Where's Drew?"

"By now he's in Tennessee. He got called away because of a death in the family. He's executor of the will. All I know is that he took an open-ended leave of absence. I don't know when he'll return."

"But what am I supposed to do?"

"Stay where you are. Someone will see that you have what you need. I'm leaving on vacation tomorrow and won't be back until after New Year's. Make yourself cocoa and toast. Then go to bed and get a good night's sleep. It will all be better in the morning." Karen gave Dana Capt. Hallinan's cell phone number and hung up.

****

"I'm sorry to wake you so early," Chuck said. "But Iris got called out this morning for a profiling case. She's on her way to Arizona. I'll be leaving as soon as I hang up to spend Christmas with Iris' mother and the kids in Virginia. Did anyone tell you about Drew?"

"Karen called last night. She's going on vacation, too. She gave me Captain Hallinan's cell phone number in case I need anything before Drew gets back."

"Good. I'll give you mine, too. If you need anything, call me. If I can't help you, I see that someone does. Iris and I are going on a cruise when the kids go back to school. It's been a long time since we had a vacation together." He gave her his number and disconnected.

She went to the kitchen to do an inventory of what food was there. Drew had bought groceries on Sunday, but he never bought too much fresh food because it was just the two of them. Now there was only one. She guessed she should use up the fresh food first to keep it from spoiling. She took an apple from a basket on the eating counter and munched on it while she made coffee and looked for something for breakfast.

She'd just took a bite when the phone rang again. Capt. Hallinan's voice came over the line, "Good morning, Dana. Karen left a note for me to call you about Drew. I'm sorry no one called you yesterday to tell you he got called home to Tennessee. I promised him I'd look out for you and his mother. Is there anything you need just now?"

Dana swallowed her bite of apple. "I don't think so. I was just looking around the kitchen to see what food is here. Karen gave me your number. I'll let you know if I need anything. Will there be someone guarding me or am I on my own?"

"With so many off for the holidays, I can't spare anyone right now. I'll tell Sergeant O'Connor to check in with you every day. You do know him, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Do not open the door for anyone you don't know even if he's a policeman. There is a felon called Blaze in the city. We've been trying to catch him for a couple of years. We learned yesterday that he may be a cop."

"There's is something I'd like to have to help me pass the time. A couple of skeins of red yarn, size seven knitting needles, and size G crochet hook." Dana wondered briefly how she remembered what she'd need to make a hat, scarf, and mittens. Iris had given her a long coat.

"It's one I bought when I was pregnant with our last child," Iris had told her. "I had to get it big enough to button across my belly. It's real English tweed."

"Dana, are you still there?"

"Yes, I just had a flashback of sorts. How do I remember how to knit and crochet?"

"I don't know but I think I'll have Lil pick up what you need. She does that kind of needlework. You do remember her from Thomas' funeral, don't you?"

"I remember."

****

Alone. So alone. On Christmas Eve no less. Dana sorted through Drew's CD's for some Christmas music. As Bing sang of dreaming of a white Christmas, she quipped, "So is the Weather Channel."

She went to the kitchen and took down Drew's bottle of Jack Daniel's and poured an old-fashioned glass half full and carried it to the living room where she settled down with a book about social justice. She sipped the whiskey until she became engrossed in what she was reading. It was past ten thirty when she put the book aside.

She wasn't ready to face another night alone in that king size bed. She missed Drew. She wondered when he would be home. She fantasized how she would greet him with a warm embrace. He would scoop her up in his arms and carry her to the bedroom where they would make love until...until... It was useless. He was in Tennessee; she was in New York.

He was probably celebrating Christmas with family and friends. Maybe they weren't celebrating if a family member had recently died, but at least he wasn't alone. With a deep sigh she pushed herself to her feet and went to the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth. She would face another night alone in that king size bed plagued with the nightmares she'd been having lately. Nightmares in which she lost Drew. When she awoke in the morning she would still be alone.

She dozed off and on until the wee hours of the morning when she finally fell asleep. But those dreams wouldn't leave her alone.

Another bad dream. She took it as a premonition that something was going to happen to Drew and she would lose him forever. She got up and poured herself another drink of whiskey. As she sipped the drink, she tried to untangle her thoughts. It was nearly five o'clock when she went back to bed. How she wished she had someone to talk to. Karen was already on vacation. So was Chuck. Iris was working a case in Arizona. Sunny and Steve had gone to Albany to spend Christmas with Steve's family. But most of all, Drew was in Tennessee and she didn't know when he would return. She just wished he'd call her.

When she drifted off to sleep, she dreamed again.

She was at a funeral, a double funeral. The woman in the casket looked like her. The man had dark hair but she couldn't see his face clearly because she was crying. Another woman, who looked like the one in the coffin, came up to hug her. Others crowded around expressing their sympathy.

Dana shook herself awake. She was still in bed alone. Didn't Drew understand that she needed him? She turned on her stomach and cried into his pillow.

It was past nine o'clock when she dragged herself from the bed. In the kitchen she put coffee to brew and ate a ham sandwich while she waited for it. Christmas. Somehow she couldn't get in the spirit. She took her coffee to the living room and tuned in to The Weather Channel. The forecast was depressing. A nor'easter was winding up over the mid-Atlantic coast. The storm had dropped south across Kentucky and Tennessee and moved east to intensify off the coast. Blizzard warnings were already posted.

She turned off the TV and stretched out on the couch. Her fractured sleep had left her feeling like a zombie. She tried to block everything out and go back to sleep.

She awoke to the doorbell's chime. Before she could get up the bell chimed again followed by, "NYPD. Open up!"

She jumped up and ran to the door expecting to see Drew there but it was Hank with a box.

He was grinning from ear to ear. "Merry Christmas! I fetched dinner." He walked past her to set the box on the kitchen counter. "Oh, good. There's coffee." He opened a cabinet and took down a mug.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she mumbled. "Make yourself comfortable."

When she returned, he had the dinner laid out on the counter. "Did you make this yourself?"

"Huh? Me cook? I bought this ready-made. I don't know beef from bullshit when it comes to cooking. Drew's the one who can cook. When he has time."

"I know. Do you know when he's coming back?"

He shook his head. "All I know is what Karen told me. That there was a death in the family and Drew's the executor of the will."

"It just seems so strange. He didn't even come home to pack."

Hank's gray eyes widened. "Oh, shit!"

"What?"

"Never mind. It's police business and it's about an open case. Just help me get this around so we can eat."

"So what brings a Texan to New York to become a cop?" She set plates and glasses on the table as he unwrapped the food.

"Same thing that brought Drew. I was a Texas ranger but after nine eleven I came up here to help out."

"That wasn't Drew's only reason," Dana returned. "Drew came because of what his ex did to him. That's what Karen told me."

"Yep. Deirdre set him up real good. He lost a lot of credibility because of that. My ex went a little further. She tried to have me killed. Hired a bastard who was out for revenge because I sent him to jail. Bastard shot me in the back. He got forty years for conspiracy and attempted murder; she got twenty for conspiracy, attempted murder and attempted insurance fraud. She wanted my life insurance."

"Do you think Drew's still in love with his ex? He's in Tennessee. Do you think he'll reconcile with her?"

"When hell freezes over. I doubt he'll even see her. Just eat your dinner and quit asking questions. It's Christmas."

"Hank, thanks for stopping by with this."

"It ain't no fun to be alone on Christmas. Not for you or for me." His voice softened. "Don't worry about Drew. He can take care of himself." His cell phone rang. "I hope nobody got killed." He pulled out his phone and opened it. "O'Connor." After a couple of "Uh-ha's" he flipped it back shut. "I gotta go, sweetheart. Some bastard just slit his wife's throat. I'll talk to you later." He pulled his sheepskin coat from the back of the stool where he'd been sitting. "See ya later, kid."

"I'm not a kid. I'm twenty-five."

"To me that's a kid. I'm old enough to be your Daddy."

"Good. Sometimes I feel like I need a Daddy."

"Any time you need someone to talk to, just give me a call. If I'm not busy chasing down murderers, I'll come running."

"In order to call you, I need your cell number."

He gave her his number and left. As she cleaned up the kitchen, she felt like she had made a true friend. A substitute father.

# Chapter 15

Dana moaned and tried to roll over but something blocked her. She opened her eyes to darkness. Where was she? She lay face down on a hard surface. When she tried to sit up, she bumped her head. She lay still trying to orient herself. To her right was open space. She squirmed around until she was on her side and felt something smooth and soft. The leather couch? She wormed her way along it until she could sit up. She really needed to stand up so she could get to the bathroom. Using the couch to pull herself up, she was finally on her feet.

"I'm in Drew's apartment," she mumbled. With the couch to her back she stepped out toward where the bedroom door should be. With her hands out in front of her, she scooted her feet along the floor until she bumped into the wall. She eased along the wall to her right until she found the floor lamp beside the television. She fumbled up the pole until she found the switch and turned on the light.

Her head was thumping and on the coffee table was the reason. Drew's empty whiskey bottle lay beside a glass. Once she could see she found her way to the bathroom. After relieving herself she came back to the bedroom and flopped on the bed where she fell asleep again.

She awoke with a throbbing headache. It took sheer will power to open her eyes. She lay curled up in a fetal position crosswise on the bed. With a groan, she turned onto her back. She moved to where she could see the green numerals on Drew's clock. It was a quarter past eleven.

A full bladder forced her from the bed. All she remembered was drinking Drew's whiskey from the bottle. She had no memory of going to bed. She plodded along to the kitchen where she swallowed two Advil and set about brewing some coffee.

Her head felt like it would explode. She sat down on one of the stools with her sock-clad feet propped on the chrome ring that encircled the legs. As soon as enough of the dark liquid was in the carafe she got a mug from the cupboard and poured herself some. It was hot and strong but that was what she needed. She drank it without her usual milk and sugar. A second cup was in order.

Awake but hurting, she stumbled to the living room which was dark except for the glow of the floor lamp beside the television. She was tired of Drew's rule to keep the windows shaded. She walked to the French doors and pulled the cords to open the blue velvet draperies and the vertical blinds.

Snow filled the balcony to the top of the wall that surrounded it and piled up against the doors. The north wind whirled more snow on top of what was already there. Manhattan had turned into a winter wonderland. It touched her artist's soul as she went to open the draperies and blinds on the north windows.

With a third cup of coffee, she curled up on the couch and turned on the TV. They were warning people to stay home. The city was practically shut down. She could handle that. What she couldn't handle any longer was being a prisoner in the apartment without being able to see out the windows.

The phone rang and she picked it up from where she'd left it on the coffee table the night before. It was Hank.

"I'm sure you know by now that the city is all but shut down because of the snow. I can't come see about you today. But if you need anything just tell me and I'll see you get it."

"I'm okay for now."

****

"Shit! Double Shit!" Drew cursed a blue streak but it didn't do anything to get him out of the situation he was in. His cursed his cousin Jack for not putting better tires on his truck but it did nothing to get him out of the snow bank along Interstate 81. He put his head down on the steering wheel waiting for his anger to cool so he could think logically.

He was glad he'd put a shovel in the back of the truck. Stepping in snow up to his knees, he waded to the back of the old rusted Ford and unlocked the end gate to the cap.

He'd placed the shovel just inside the tail gate for a reason. He didn't like driving through a snowstorm but he'd already lost too much time.

He had to get back to New York and get this undercover business over and done. He wanted to get back to Dana. Though he wouldn't admit it to himself that he was falling in love with her, he accepted the fact that he needed her.

He started digging the snow away from the tires without much headway. He stabbed the shovel into the snow bank and scooped up a shovelful of the powdery stuff only to have it blown back in his face by the wind. He was deep in thought when a big yellow dump truck with a snowplow stopped beside him.

"Need some help?" the man riding shotgun asked.

"Double damn right," Drew answered.

The man stepped down and pulled a chain from a rack on the truck's cab. "Here's your end."

After Drew lay down in the snow to hook the chain to the frame where the bumper was attached, he climbed back into to the Ford. "Let her rip." Once his truck was out, Drew unhooked the chain. "Thanks. Do I owe you anything?"

"Nope. Just part of the job. But if I was you, I'd get better tires on that truck. Where you headed?"

"New York City."

The man pointed to the north. "When you get to Harrisburg, you might want to get on Route 15. Up in central PA the snow's not as heavy. You can take 15 all the way to I-80."

"Thanks for the tip." Drew got back in the truck and followed the snowplow until it pulled off at an exit. He stopped in Hagerstown to gas up and get some chow before hitting the road again. At Harrisburg, he took Route 15 thankful for the highway worker's advice. The storm really wasn't as bad in central Pennsylvania.

Before getting on I-80 he stopped in the village of New Columbia for gas and food. He handed the clerk a fifty to prepay for the gas and asked, "You guys make subs?"

"Yes, sir. What's your pleasure?"

"Whatever's cheapest. And a very big coffee." After he pumped in the gas, he went back inside. "Do you care if I pull over there and take a nap?" He pointed his thumb toward a corner of the parking lot.

"I don't care. But you'll have to leave when we close."

Drew nodded. "I understand." He went back to the rusted red Ford to eat his sandwich and drink his coffee. Then he lay down on the seat and went to sleep. He was dreaming of Dana when the clerk rapped on his window.

Drew started his truck. He didn't blame the clerk for waiting to leave until he was out of the lot and on his way to the highway. He wouldn't trust a scruffy looking guy like him either. At 3:30 a.m. he pulled into a motel parking lot for a room. He needed a meal, a hot shower and a good night's sleep in a real bed. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The phone's ringing woke him. He'd asked for a nine o'clock wake-up call. With a groan he pushed himself into a sitting position. Every muscle in his body ached. When he was dressed he went to a nearby restaurant to eat.

While waiting for the waitress to bring his bacon and eggs, he sipped his coffee and watched the morning news on TV. The interstate was closed. That wouldn't stop him but to take on the alternate routes he would need new tires. When the waitress brought his breakfast, he asked, "Where can a fella git some tires around heah?" He really laid on the southern accent. She gave him a bright smile and told him what he needed to know.

With four new tires on the truck and five hundred dollars less in his wallet, he sought another route that would take him to New York. He had a map and he had a compass. Once he got to eastern New Jersey he would be back on his home turf.

Dusk was falling when he backed the pickup into the reserved parking stall in a downtown parking garage. His first inclination was to lie down on the seat to take a nap but he had to establish his presence in New York. He stepped down from the truck and heaved his duffel bag from behind the seat. Making sure that the truck was securely locked, he trudged down the steps and walked out to the street.

A bitterly cold wind blew from the north, swirling the snow so that he couldn't tell if it was still snowing or just blowing around. With the strap to his duffel bag over his shoulder, he crossed the street and began walking in the direction of the Blue Rose Tavern.

### Chapter 16

Warm air hit him in the face when he entered the tavern and walked to sit on a stool at the counter. He noted that police officers Terri Sylvan and Doug Chantell sat at the counter with mugs of hot coffee. It seemed that his identity would be tested early. He didn't look their way but focused on the woman behind the counter whom he recognized as Camilla Becker, owner of the establishment.

"What'll it be?" she asked as she moved in front of Drew.

"Coffee. Black. Do ya serve food heah as well as drink?"

"Depends on what you want."

"Sub."

"I can do that. What kind?"

"Whatever's cheapest." He accepted the mug of coffee and took a sip. "Damn, that's hot. Ya got any cold water?" Drew exaggerated his southern accent.

Cammy brought a glass of water. "I didn't recognize you, Lieutenant."

"I ain't no lieutenant. Never been in the service."

"You look like Lieutenant Ward of the Homicide Division of NYPD."

"He looks like me. I'm older'n he is. We're cousins."

Doug Chantell stood up and confronted Drew. "What's your name?"

"Jack Ranson. Late of Nashville."

"Prove it. Show me some ID."

Drew swiveled the stool so he faced Chantell. "I didn't know that orderin' a cup of coffee an' a sub was illegal in New York." When he put his hand in his coat pocket, Doug pulled his gun.

"My, yer jumpy. I'm jest gettin' my wallet." He pulled the wallet from the pocket of his brown canvas barn coat and removed his driver's license which he handed to Chantell.

Chantell studied the card and eyed Drew aka Jack. "You have brown eyes."

"Is that a crime, officer?"

"Don't smart mouth me," Doug ordered.

"Look, I been drivin' all day an' I'm tired. I wanta eat, find a room and sleep till I can't sleep no more. If that's against the law, I'm sorry." Jack looked back to Cammy. "Where can a fella find a room around heah?"

"The Raven's Nest Inn is just a few doors down."

"Good. I want a six pack of whatever's yer cheapest beer." Drew paid for his purchases, picked up his duffel bag and walked out. He didn't miss Chantell's slight nod to Cammy. He knew the mug he'd just used would be on the way to the CSI lab.

When he walked in the door of the Raven's Nest Inn, the old man at the counter laid aside the sports section of the New York Times. "Can I help you, sir?" A smile showed a gap where his front teeth were missing. His brown face was wrinkled with age.

"I need a room," Drew answered.

"A hundred dollars a week, clean bed linens once a week an' ya keep the place clean as long as you're here."

Drew dropped his duffel bag and set the plastic bag that held his beer and sub on the counter. He withdrew his wallet from his coat pocket and pulled out a C-note. The old man reached for it and immediately made a mark on it to be sure it was genuine. He pulled the registry over and noted the date and turned the book around for Drew to sign.

Drew wrote Jack Ranson in the round script of his cousin. He had spent a lot of time in Nashville learning to write that signature. The old man turned the book around and squinted at the page. "Jack Ranson. I'm Silas Cobb. I'm the manager here. How long do you plan to stay?"

"Until I decide to leave," Drew replied.

Silas grinned. "You can stay as long as you pay your rent, don't cause any trouble and don't do anything illegal. Other than that, I don't stick my nose into the residents' business." He eyed the bag Drew set on the counter. "Is that beer?"

"Yup. Ya want one?"

"Sure would appreciate it." He turned around and unlocked a cabinet to take out a key ring with a single brass key. "Room 201. Top of the stairs, first door on the right. Thanks for the beer."

Drew went up the stairs. At room 201 he unlocked the door. He reached inside to switch on the light. The two lamps on either side of the bed came on. He closed the door and locked it before leaning back against it as he studied the room that was to be his home.

The blue comforter on the bed was faded but clean. In fact, the whole room was clean. The double bed was between the two windows facing the street. The windows had no curtains, just venetian blinds which were closed.

Two night stands flanked the bed with two brass lamps that didn't match. A round table with two mismatched chairs sat beneath a third window straight across from the door. He dropped his duffel bag and took the bag with his supper to the table. The bathroom door stood open. Inside he carefully removed the contact lenses that changed his eye color. He washed his face and hands and went back to the table to sit down and eat.

He had established his identity. He wasn't sure Chantell bought it. He would deal with it later. Right now he was hungry and tired.

****

Dana stood at the window watching the snow blow around the city. She had her sketch pad but didn't feel like working. She wondered when Drew would be back. It had been a week with no word from him. She thought about calling Capt. Hallinan. No. She would call Hank. She hoped he wasn't working.

Her call went to voice mail. "You said I should call if I need anything. I need milk, eggs, toilet paper and a loaf of bread." She placed the phone back in its cradle and went back to the window where she made some preliminary lines on her sketch pad to mark the shapes of the buildings in her view.

Far below she spotted a man walking across the parking lot. The way he carried himself seemed familiar. Could it be...Drew? He passed out of her line of vision so she ran to the French doors to get to the balcony which she had cleared of snow using a baking sheet as a shovel. She yanked open one of the doors and darted to the half wall. He was going up the walk to the parking garage. She could only see him from the back but she was sure it was Drew.

Though she wore no coat and only socks on her feet, she waited to see a vehicle exit the garage. A short time later a battered red pickup drove from the structure. She couldn't imagine Drew ever having such a vehicle. She must have been mistaken.

Shivering with cold, she went back inside. She missed Drew terribly. Perhaps that was why she thought the man crossing the parking lot was him. A clean dry pair of socks and a hot cup of coffee was what she needed to warm up. The phone rang while she was in the bedroom and she ran to answer it, praying it was Drew. It was Hank.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you." A coughing fit left him breathless. "I got the flu or something. Karen's back. Call her. I'd fetch what you need." More coughing. "I just don't want to give you what I got."

"I'll call Karen. You just go back to bed and take care of yourself." He was coughing again when she hung up.

Karen was busy. "I'll see that you get what you need. We have a lot of officers off right now because of the flu."

"I know. I just talked to Hank. How will I know if the person who brings what I need is really from you?"

"He'll tell you his name is Ben Hall."

****

"Hi, sugar plum." Drew took Cammy's hand as he leaned across the bar. "Last night was plumb wonderful," he lied.

Cammy smiled. "Want to do it again tonight?"

Not really, Drew thought. He said, "Sure. My place or yours?"

"Yours. I'll be over after I close up. Maybe I'll just stay the night. I hate crawling out of a nice warm bed to go out in the cold."

Drew drank down the rest of his coffee and picked up his sub. "Gimme a six pack." Maybe if he got half drunk he could screw her without showing his revulsion for her.

She brought the beer and he paid for it. "See you at midnight."

Drew strode through the Raven's Nest door like a man on a mission. He had to get those contacts out of his eyes especially if he would have to keep them in all night. "Howdy, Silas," he said to the old man and set his six-pack down to tear a cold one loose from its plastic collar. "Have one on me." He didn't stay to talk. He took the stairs two at a time.

Inside his room, he set his dinner on the table and went directly to the bathroom to take out the contacts. He hated it. He also hated that after two weeks he was no closer to finding Blaze than when he started. He needed to talk to Matt. Tomorrow morning he would call Jenny so she could relay a message for him.

After eating his sandwich, drinking two beers to wash it down, he sat down on his bed and pulled off his boots. He stretched out on the bed and let his mind drift. Soon he was thinking about Dana. How he wished she were the one he would go to bed with that night. He fell asleep.

Drew woke from a dream about Dana and headed for the bathroom. As he stood at the sink to wash his face and hands, he wondered if he should put the contacts in. He decided to check to see how much time he had before Cammy would arrive. He turned on his cell phone and called up the time: 10:37 p.m. He would have time to eat and drink two beers.

He opened the small fridge to see what he had. Taking out a pack of ground beef, he smelled it to find out if it was still good. It smelled fine so he made it into a patty and put it in the microwave to cook. He popped the top on one of the beers and took a swig.

A half-smile crossed his face as he had an amusing thought. He wasn't going to make Cammy's night any too pleasant. He took out a plastic bag containing half a large onion and cut off a slice. He still had two slices of tomato. He ate one slice and laid the other slice on the small counter and turned to take a slice of cheese from his fridge.

His burger was done so he spread two slices of bread with mayonnaise and put the burger on one of them. Topping it with a cheese slice, he added the onion and tomato. Then he sprinkled it liberally with garlic salt. He found a can of beans and scraped them onto the plate beside his burger. His bag of chips was still on the table. Onion, beans and beer should make for an aromatic night. He grinned to himself and took a big bite of the burger.

He waited until a quarter to twelve to put in his contacts. Twenty minutes later Cammy was knocking on his door. When he let her in he leaned to kiss her.

She waved her hand in front of her face. "Whew! Does your breath ever stink. What have you been eating? Carrion?"

Drew shrugged. "Just a burger with a slice of onion."

"Go brush your teeth and use some mouthwash," she ordered as she set her tote bag just inside the door.

Looking down Drew could see the pistol on top of whatever else she had in it. "You carrying heat?"

"A woman alone does not go out on the streets of New York after dark without some protection. It's legal and I know how to use it." She shooed him off to the bathroom as she took off her coat and scarf.

Drew made a mental note that Cammy carried a gun with her. From what he could see it was a small caliber revolver. He did a sloppy job of brushing his teeth. He didn't want to waste the ambiance he'd strove to create.

When he came back to the bedroom, he found Cammy taking two glasses from the cupboard. A bottle of Jack Daniels sat on the table.

"You don't want me drinkin' that. I get mean when I drink liquor. I already had enough beer and I just had a drink of water."

"I thought all Tennesseans liked whiskey."

"I didn't say I don't like it. I said it makes me mean. That's why I stick to beer."

"One drink won't hurt you."

"No. But it'll just make me want more. I know my limits. I learned the hard way." He took the whiskey she poured for him and swallowed it in one gulp. "We goin' to bed or what. I want to get an early start tomorrow."

"It is tomorrow." She came to him and began to unbutton his shirt.

It was only by reminding himself of the importance of his mission that Drew was able to perform sexually with Cammy. He tried to imagine he was with Dana but the reality wouldn't allow it. After they had settled down to sleep the result of his meal began to manifest itself.

"You stink!" Cammy complained and turned her back. Drew grinned and turned his back to her. He had to get in touch with Matt tomorrow.

He fell asleep about two o'clock to be awakened by Cammy at 9:30 a.m. She wanted to have sex again. Drew lay on his back sleepily allowing her to do all the work. Afterward he went to the bathroom. She came in as he stood naked at the sink washing his face and hands.

"This bathroom's only big enough for one person at a time," he protested.

She smacked him on the butt. "I like your tattoo."

"The last woman I was with never even noticed it. She was more interested in the front." Drew stepped in the shower and closed the curtain. His tattoo was on his right ass cheek. Fat cherry red lips with "Pucker up Baby" under it. It had caused some concern that it might get him in trouble if someone knew about it. And Doug Chantrell knew. He'd been in the locker room the day Drew had chased down a murderer is the sewer and had to shower at work. The tattoo had one purpose. A identifying mark if they fished him out of the Hudson River.

When he came from the bathroom to get dressed, he noticed Cammy had his coat. "What're you doin'?" he asked as he pulled on his boxers.

"Mending your coat. I noticed it was torn so I brought my sewing kit. There. It's all done." She stood up and poured herself a second cup of coffee. "You're sure grumpy this morning."

"Ain't had my coffee yet." He sat down on the bed to pull on his socks. When he was dressed, he poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down at the table.

Cammy put on her coat and scarf and prepared to leave but turned back. "Jack, if you're having a difficult time finding a job, I know this guy goes by the name of Blaze. Sometimes he can use someone with your talents and background."

"Blaze sounds like a gang name." He complained.

She shrugged. "Not quite. He runs his outfit like a business. I can tell him about you to see if he can use you."

"I don't know," he grumbled. "Maybe I'll just forget about New York and head for Florida. Warmer down there."

"According to the weatherman, it's not much warmer in Florida than it is here. Think about it." She kissed him and went out the door.

He got up and checked out his coat. In the tip of his collar where it had been frayed, he could feel a lump. Bugged me, he thought. He wondered if he was being monitored by a person or if he was being recorded. He planned to give them something to listen to.

He left his room and went down the stairs, whistling. "Howdy, Silas," he called to the old man behind the counter.

"You're sure in a good mood this morning," Silas observed. "Your lady friend must have been extra good to you."

Drew grinned and waved as he went out the door. The cold wind slapped him in the face as he went whistling down the street. He took out his cell phone and placed a call. "Hello, Jenny. How's Aunt Connie doin' this mornin'? Oh, don't wake her on my account. This is Jack Ranson."

He laughed. "Never could fool you, Jenny. Tell Aunt Connie I'll...call...her tonight. I'll, ah, talk...to her then." He paused. "Have a good day, Jenny."

He stopped at an ATM machine and withdrew a hundred dollars from his account. Then he headed for a bookie he'd learned about from Cammy. "I want to place a hundred bucks on Fancy Lady," he told the man at the window.

"Ten to one odds. Not many bet on a filly that's new to racing."

Drew grinned back at him. "I know but she belongs to a friend of my girl friend. Just showing a little loyality."

"What's your name?"

"Jack Ranson. Late of Nashville. Fancy Lady's a Tennessee horse." Drew hung around until the betting was closed and watched the race on television.

"Seems like your Fancy Lady is laggin' behind," another watcher jeered.

"He's just holding her back until the right time. See. They're comin' down the home stretch." The jockey gave the filly a swat with his whip and the horse shot forward like she was rocket propelled, outstripping the two horses ahead of her and running neck and neck with the leader.

"Fancy Lady by a nose!" the announcer shouted. Drew didn't wait to see which horses took second and third. He went to the window to collect his winnings. "One Thousand bucks," he crowed.

The man counted out ten one hundred dollar bills. "Don't spend it all in one place."

Drew took out his wallet to put the money in it as he went out the door. He put the wallet back in his pocket without the money. He tucked that inside his shirt. He had seen another man on a cell phone as he went out. He went down the stairs and out into the cold sunshine.

A man confronted him with a pistol. "Hand over your wallet."

Drew reached his hand inside his coat as if reaching for his wallet but came out with a .45 automatic. He had the element of surprise on his side as the would-be robber did a double take. Drew took the advantage of that second to kick the man in the crotch. As the robber went down on his knees, Drew put his gun away and walked off.

# Chapter 17

Dana sat bolt upright in bed. Cold sweat drenched her body and tears ran down her cheeks. It took a moment to focus where she was. It took a longer moment to realize that what she had just dreamed was more than a nightmare. It was a tragic horror reestablishing itself in her memory. She tried to calm her pounding heart as she stood up and went to the bathroom.

She was alone. Karen and Sylvia were in Quantico to testify against Drumheller. Hank was in the hospital with pneumonia. She didn't know where Drew was. He'd been gone three weeks and she'd heard nothing from him. She would have to get through this on her own.

She put coffee to brew in the kitchen and got out clean clothes. In the shower with the water turned as hot as she could stand it, she let the tears slide down her cheeks. She wished she could wash away the pain in her heart like the sweat from her body. She cursed Drew for not communicating with her. She raged against the hand fate had dealt her. How could she bear any more?

She dried off and went to the bedroom to dress in her taupe slacks, matching jacket and the silky white blouse. After putting on warm socks she went to the kitchen for toast and coffee.

Taking a clean kitchen towel from a drawer, she sat down at the counter and let the memories take possession of her mind. She was determined to go through it from start to finish and come out stronger for it. She closed her eyes, dabbing at the tears that squeezed from beneath her lids.

She was driving through the pouring rain, a violent thunderstorm. It was raining so hard the wipers couldn't keep the windshield cleared. And she was crying. She knew she couldn't go back to her dorm on campus. Not after what happened with Paul. She could not face her roommate and her friends.

She went home instead. Parking her car beside the garage she ran through the rain to the back porch. With her little flashlight, she found the right key and unlocked the back door. Once inside, she took the back stairs that went to her parent's second-floor bedroom. She could hear voices in the downstairs living room. An argument. She heard her mother's voice pleading, "Please don't kill him. He didn't mean to find the books."

A man's voice. "Get down on your knees and beg."

"I won't let you treat my wife like this!" Her father.

Dana inched along to where she could see down the stairs just as her father sprang forward and yanked the black ski mask from the man nearest him. Retaliation was swift. An up close shot to his chest and a bullet to his head before he hit the floor.

Dana saw her mother turn to run toward the stairs. The other man shot her in the back and then in the back of her head. Their blood spread across the oriental carpet.

Dana let out a little cry from where she stood at the top of the stairs. The man without his mask looked up and pointed his gun at her. She turned and fled. The bullet plunked into the ceiling plaster.

"She saw your face, Jake!" the other man yelled. She could hear them coming up the stairs.

She ran up the next flight of stairs to the third floor and shoved up the window to the fire escape. Then she ran up the stairs to the attic. It was dark and cluttered with castoff furniture and other paraphernalia. She still had her purse over her shoulder and dug out her flashlight so she could make her way to the corner where the trapdoor was. Slipping her fingers in the notch, she lifted the heavy door and shone her light on the ladder that would take her to safety. As she tried to lower the trapdoor, it slipped and came down with a bang. As if on cue to mask the sound, lightning struck nearby with a loud boom and the thunder vibrated the windows in the old house.

So far, so good. They wouldn't find her there but she had to get out somehow. Hoping they thought she went down the fire escape, she climbed down the ladder to the level of the third floor. She recoiled against the spider webs that seemed to be everywhere. Though she was afraid of spiders, at least they weren't carrying guns. She'd take the lesser of two evils.

From the third floor level, she carefully made her way down a steep dark stairway. Then she came to the hard part. To reach the stairway to the first floor, she had to crawl through a narrow place below the window seat in the bathroom. That's where she was when she heard them searching the bathroom.

"She must have gone down the fire escape. We've searched this house over from top to bottom. She's just not here."

Dana lay still barely breathing. It seemed an eternity before they moved on. She crawled the rest of the way through the low spot and stood up to navigate down the steep stairs to the level of the kitchen. She listened for some sound that would tell her if they were still there. All was quiet. She opened a small door that let her out into a narrow closet. Listening intently for any sound that might indicate the killers were still there she let herself out of the closet.

Once she got out the back door she ran to her car and fired it up. In a few minutes she was on the street headed for the nearest police station.

Wiping her tears from her face, Dana got up and poured herself another cup of coffee which she took to the living room and curled up on the couch. Though she remembered her parents' murder, she could not recall their names. She wondered where her brother was that night.

She needed to plan what she should do. She had to go to Boston. That's where it happened. But how would she do it? She had no money. At least thinking about that problem took her mind off what she remembered. Certainly Drew had some money in the house. She just needed to find it. She was planning to do what she had never done before: Steal; from a friend to boot. More than a friend. She loved him.

While she was searching the apartment for cash she came across a roll of quarters in one of the desk drawers. Ten dollars. It wouldn't get her to Boston but it would get her to the library to search back copies of the Boston Globe. Surely a double murder would be front page news. She dressed warmly and headed for the bus stop.

Dana searched through one CD after another and was almost ready to give up when a headline on the front page of the issue caught her eye. "Daughter watches as parents murdered.". Though she wasn't identified by the police, her parents' names were released: Edith and Lionel Blum.

She printed out a copy of the article. She scrolled along to the obituaries. Her parents' obits were side by side with a picture at the top of each one. She printed them out, too. She continued to look for subsequent stories. She found one where a man named Jacob Talbot was arrested because she identified his mug shot from a previous arrest. She had picked him out of a lineup. She testified against him at his trial and was put in the witness protection program. So was her brother.

She had no contact with her brother since before the trial and she had no idea where he was. She found a picture of her as she left the courthouse after the trial. She gathered her print-outs together and went down to the front desk to pay for them.

Wrapping her scarf around her neck and across her face, she stepped outside into the frigid January air. Pausing at the top of the steps, she saw the man she thought was Drew. He was coming down the sidewalk with a blond woman hanging onto his arm who was looking up at him laughing.

If I can see his eyes...She went down the steps and walked toward them. But he was looking down at the woman with his face at an angle that Dana couldn't see his eyes.

"I think I could almost fall in love with you," the woman said.

He grinned down at her. "You don't want to do that, sweetheart," he said. "I'll only break your heart."

Dana felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. She didn't need to see his eyes. She recognized his voice. He was telling that woman the same thing he'd once told her.

He bumped against her knocking her aside. If it hadn't been for the snow bank beside the sidewalk she would have fallen.

"Watch where you're going," the woman scolded. "You almost walked over top of that little old lady."

He turned to look back. "Hey! Are you okay?"

Dana was glad her scarf covered the lower half of her face. She turned her back and walked away. Tears blurred her vision. She crossed the street against the light in a hail of horn-blowing and obscenities. She kept walking not caring where she went.

When her tears froze on her cheeks and the scarf across her face, she tried to get her bearings. She stopped a man and asked him how to get to the high rise where Drew's apartment was. He pointed out the direction. She came to it from the back, but as she passed the parking garage, she recognized the tall building.

She punched in the code to gain access to the north entrance and trudged slowly up the steps. Her mind was beginning to function again. She knew she could not stay there. But she needed money to get to Boston. She knew that Drew had money somewhere in the apartment so she began searching. She found the safe when she was looking through the bedroom. It required a combination and a key.

Recalling what she heard Sylvia tell Karen about the keys Drew took from a secret drawer in his desk, she went looking for it. When she found it she took the two keys to the bedroom and tried them in the safe. One fit but would not turn. She needed the combination. She sat on the floor wondering if the only place the combination existed was in Drew's head.

As she leaned her head back rubbing her neck, she gaze fell on the painting over the bed. A horse race. She thought that it was there because Drew raised race horses, but the numbers on the saddle blankets didn't make sense. Seventeen, three, eight and forty-two. All at once her light bulb came on. Could those numbers be the safe's combination?

She tried them and turned the key. The safe opened. "Think you're smart, don't you, Mr. Ward?"

She searched through documents and folders until she found a gray expandable envelope fat with bills. She counted out nine Ben Franklins and five Andrew Jacksons. Putting the rest back, she closed the safe and spun the dial. She put the keys back where she found them and put the money in her purse.

Sitting down at the desk she wrote a brief letter to Drew explaining what she'd done and why. She promised to pay him back every penny. She ended the letter with, "I shall always love you, Dana." She placed the note inside his laptop and went to the kitchen to get something to eat and to plan her exit. She would take the first bus to Boston in the morning.

# Chapter 18

Drew stood under the shower with the water as hot as he could stand it. He wished he could wash away the dirt he felt inside like a scab growing over his soul. Every time he went to bed with Cammy, he sank deeper into a funk. He knew little more about Blaze then when he started out. Except that Cammy was involved with him. That coincided with what Maller told him.

Every time he had sex with Cammy, he felt like he was cheating on Dana. If nothing else, this stint undercover had forced him to face his feelings for Dana.

He'd had no results in his efforts to contact Matt through Jenny. That was going to change quickly. If Matt wouldn't get him out, he'd do it himself. He go to Murphy's Bar and Grill and drink until he was sloppy-ass drunk and then he'd start a fight. And he didn't plan on wearing his contact lenses. He hoped that the cops would arrest him and take him to the station.

He toweled off and stood before the mirror and scraped away a month's growth of beard. He pulled on the new boxer-briefs and tee shirt. He felt almost human again as he opened the bathroom door and stepped into his room. "How'd you get in here?"he demanded when he saw Cammy standing just inside the door.

"With the key I made from your door key the day you 'accidently' left them lay on the counter. I already know you're Drew Ward. Doug told me about the tattoo on your ass."

Drew didn't try to pretend otherwise. He'd been caught unawares. "So. Doug is Blaze." It wasn't a question.

"So you know." She brought her hand up from her side with a high caliber gun with a silencer on it. "It isn't going to do you any good. You aren't leaving here."

Drew moved slowly toward the bed. His guns were behind the bed skirt next to the night stand. "It will only be a matter of time before they find you out. I just called Hallinan with my suspicions."

"Stop where you are," she ordered. "I'm going to watch you die slowly. I'm going to shoot your cock off and watch you bleed to death."

Drew was good at reading faces in life threatening circumstances. When he was sure Cammy was going to pull the trigger, he dove sideways. He felt the bullet cut across his left hip an instant before he hit the floor hard. He was beside the bed and Cammy would have to move to see him to shoot him again. He pulled his gun from his holster and come up with it just as she moved to get another shot off.

Three bullets slammed into her chest. Drew fired off a fourth to her throat just in case she was wearing a bulletproof vest. Her last shot plunked into the night stand next to his head. He hoisted himself to a sitting position as he groped for his cell phone on his nightstand. Dispatch's number was the first one he'd programmed into the phone.

"Officer down! Officer needs assistance! Now!"

"Where are you?" asked the female voice.

"The Raven's Nest Inn. Room 201. I'm shot."

"Who are you?"

"Lieutenant Drew Ward. Send backup and paramedics; ambulance. I'm bleeding badly." He could see that Cammy was dead so he laid his gun on the bed and reached over for the nearest pillow. Stripping off the pillowcase, he folded it into a bandage and pressed it against his wound. He could hear sirens on the street and soon he heard the sounds of running feet on the stairs.

Doug Chantell and Terri Sylvan burst into the room with guns drawn. Terri ran to Drew's side and knelt beside him. "What happened?"

"She tried to kill me."

Doug leaned down and felt for Cammy carotid pulse. "She's dead. You son-of-a-bitch! You killed her." He brought his gun around to point it at Drew. "Terri! Get his gun and lay it at the corner of the bed."

"Have you gone berserk?" she asked.

"Terri, I want you to meet Blaze," Drew said.

Doug motioned with his gun. "Put your gun there, too. You two are about to shoot each other. And I'll be here to witness it all."

"Do as he says, Terri." Drew's hand went beneath the bed skirt to find his back up, a .38 revolver.

Terri laid her gun and Drew's on the corner of the bed and moved away just as Drew pulled up with his backup. "Drop the gun, Doug!"

Doug had just picked up Drew's gun with his right hand and held his own gun in his left. He pointed the Drew's gun at him.

"I said, 'Drop it.' Now put it down," Drew ordered.

"What kind of fool do you take me for?"

"The kind that doesn't remember which gun he's holding in which hand. That's my gun you have in your right hand."

Doug glanced quickly at his hand. Drew aimed for his kneecap but missed. Terri came up with her backup and put a bullet into Doug's throat and two in his head. Doug's bullet hit Drew in his chest just under his left collarbone.

Terri ripped the pillowcase off the other pillow and pressed it against Drew's wound. "Stay with me, Drew! Stay with me!"

# Chapter 19

Drew drifted up from a drug induced slumber. He heard voices that seemed to be too far away to understand. His eyelids were too heavy to open. He gradually became aware of pain. He struggled to move only to find that his hands were tied down. He tried to lick his lips but there was something in the way; something that wouldn't allow him to talk. Panic surged through him. He managed to open his eyes but was unable to focus.

A hand held his and a female voice said, "Drew, if you can hear me squeeze my hand."

He tried but he was as weak as a newborn kitten.

"Are you in pain?" she asked. "If you are squeeze my hand."

That time he managed a little stronger pressure. He was in pain. His left hip and his left upper chest. Then the fog of sleep enfolded him again and he could no longer think.

Karen held his hand a moment longer and then tucked it beneath the blanket. He was so cold.

A technician came in to draw blood. Drew never even opened his eyes when she stuck him with the needle. Karen sat down on a chair to watch. When he began struggling again, she got up and held his hand. Her heart ached for him. He had been her partner and her confidant when she needed someone other than her husband to talk to. With his knowledge of psychology, he always pointed her in the right direction. He was closer than her own brother and it hurt to see such strong human being brought to the edge of death. At least the doctor had told her he was likely to survive barring complications.

When Matt came in she stood up. "How's Terri holding up?"

"She'll come through okay. She's getting over the initial shock of shooting and killing her partner. She knows it was the only way. He planned to kill her as well as Drew. She knew Doug was wearing a bullet proof vest so she shot high. She's a good cop."

"She took down Blaze," Karen reminded him. "She deserves a promotion."

"She's more likely to get a medal. Promoting her would bring a string of complaints because of seniority. With Drew and Hank both out, I'm going to have to promote someone else to sergeant. Most likely Bailey. Unless someone from one of the other departments wants to stake a claim. You don't get to work homicide by the number of traffic citations you issue."

A moan from Drew brought Karen back to his bedside just as he opened his eyes. "He keeps fighting the ventilator tube," she told Matt. "That's why his hands are restrained." She leaned over the bed. "Drew, can you hear me?"

He managed a brief nod.

"Why do they have him propped up so high?" Matt asked.

"So he can breathe easier." She brushed a wisp of hair back from Drew's brow. "Are you in pain?"

He tried to answer but couldn't speak. He raised his hand as far as he could and closed his eyes. Just then the doctor walked in followed by Jan Turnbaugh. "So how do you feel today, Mr. Ward?" the doctor asked.

"That's Lieutenant Ward," Jan corrected.

The doctor, who's name tag read Keith Zimmer, looked at his chart. "So it is. I'm going to take that ventilator tube out, Lieutenant. You should be able to breathe on your own. If you can't we have other methods to keep you breathing properly."

Relief showed in Drew blue eyes.

Matt and Karen moved away to allow the doctor and nurse access to Drew. "How's Hank?" Karen asked.

"They may let him go home tomorrow. He's a little out of sorts that he wasn't there when Drew needed him, but he'll get over it. He's just glad that Drew's alive."

"We all are," Karen returned.

The first thing Drew said when the tube was removed was, "Water."

Jan gave him a drink while the doctor readied a C-Pap mask to cover his nose and mouth. "This will breathe for you until you're stronger."

Drew's eyes shot blue fire. "How the hell...?" The doctor placed the mask over his face cutting off his speech. Jan gave him a pen and tablet. Drew wrote, "talk or eat?"

"Use the tablet for conversation. I don't expect you to need that mask much longer." The doctor turned and walked out followed by Jan.

Drew picked up the tablet and wrote, "Bring Dana." He showed it to Karen.

"Okay. I get the message." She signaled for Matt to join her in the hall. "Did anyone get in touch with his mother or his sister?"

"I'll go by to see his mother. She has Alzheimer's so I'm not sure how much she'll understand. I called his sister. She said she would take the first flight she could get out of Geneva. That was yesterday." He removed his cell phone from his coat pocket and turned it back on. "I told her to call when she gets in. I'll have someone pick her up. I met her once back in 2007 when he was shot."

"I remember," Karen returned. "Tall, black hair, dark brown eyes. Beautiful. I'll go pick her up when she calls."

Matt's cell phone rang and he pulled it out. "Speaking of angels. Hello, Mrs. Weatherton. Matt Hallinan speaking."

"Captain, do you know who has the keys to Drew's apartment? I see no reason to go to a hotel."

"I have Drew's keys, but Lieutenant Hall also has a key. She's right here. You can talk to her." He passed the phone to Karen.

"Hello, Charlotte, do you want me to pick you up at the airport?"

"No. I'm already in a taxi. Meet me at Drew's apartment."

"I'll see you there." She handed Matt's cell back to him.

Karen parked in one of Drew's reserved spaces and walked around to the front. Charlotte had just stepped out of the cab and the driver was unloading her luggage from the trunk. Karen walked up and introduced herself and shook her hand. "I'll help you with your bags. Dana should be there to let us in though I do have a key."

In the elevator, Karen said, "Drew's in a rotten mood. I realize he's been shot but he really must do what the doctor tells him."

"I hope he's not in a pity-me mood."

"Quite the opposite. He's angry because he's not able to get out of that bed. He'll get over it." Karen pressed the doorbell and waited. She pressed it again. She set down Charlotte's suitcase and used her key. As she opened the door, she called, "Dana. Dana?"

She set Charlotte's luggage down and looked through the apartment. "She isn't here. I wonder where she got to."

Charlotte went through to the bathroom and came back to the living room to ask, "Is there any food here? I'm starved."

Karen went to the kitchen to make coffee while Charlotte raided the refrigerator. They soon sat at the counter with coffee and ham sandwiches.

"Do you want to go to the hospital next?"

"Yes, if it isn't too much bother. I must get the keys to Drew's Gran Cherokee."

"Oh, I should tell you. Drew has two reserved spaces in the parking lot just outside the north entrance. He usually took the stairs. I'll show you when we leave. I need to talk to security to find out if they know where Dana went. Drew is not going to be happy about that but he left her alone with no explanation. She probably got tired of waiting for him to come home."

"She was just in protective custody, wasn't she?"

Karen pursed her lips thoughtfully. "It went a lot further than that. They were sleeping together. He went to Tennessee when your aunt died and the top brass decided it would be a good time for him to go undercover. They didn't even tell me about it. Only a few did know. It was a protective measure because the man they were after was a cop. Things just blew up and Drew got shot. But he killed the woman involved after she shot him. Officer Sylvan shot the cop that shot Drew. She took it hard that she killed her partner but if she hadn't he would have killed Drew and her. That's all I'm telling you because the case is still under investigation. What I've told you is what they told the press so far."

As they left the apartment, Charlotte asked, "After we go see Drew, will you take me to get Drew's Jeep?"

"Sure. I'll have to go back to the station anyway. Captain Hallinan has gone to see your mother to try to explain to her what happened to Drew."

"I must go see her, too, after I get Drew's Jeep."

Drew was sleeping when they arrived. Charlotte brushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Drew." She shook him gently. She stood on the side of him where his wounds were. His left arm was propped on a pillow.

Karen approached on the other side and took the hand where the IV was. "Drew, wake up. I brought your sister."

He opened his eyes slowly and gazed up at Karen and then turned his attention to Charlotte. He touched the mask over his nose and mouth. As he tried to ease himself to a more comfortable position, his face registered pain. He motioned for Karen to get the writing tablet and pen from the tray table.

She held it for him so he could write. DANA?

"She wasn't there. I stopped by security and the guard said she left three days ago. She took everything that belonged to her. Drew, I don't think she plans to come back."

He dropped the pen and gripped the bed rail with his right hand to pull himself to a full, unsupported sitting position. He eyes shot blue fire.

Karen picked the pen up from the floor and gave it back to him. He wrote: FIND HER!

"Drew, listen to me. Dana is twenty-five years old. She left of her own volition. She is not missing. She left! There is no crime involved. The police have no reason to hunt her down."

Drew ripped the mask from his face. "I'll go find her myself."

Charlotte put her hands on his shoulders to push him back. Karen's reaction was swifter. She pulled her cuffs from her pocket, and snapping one cuff around his wrist, she put the other around the bed railing.

Already the alarm was sounding from the monitor he was attached to. It brought Jan Turnbaugh on the run. "Drew, when will you ever learn to listen to the doctor." She put the mask back over his face. "Now behave yourself. I'm going off duty soon and I want you to be good for Billie Jean. The doctor will be in soon."

"Good," Charlotte said "I'd like to talk to him."

Jan pointed to the cuffs. "Good idea. Leave him like that for a while."

"Drew, I'm not trying to be a hard-ass," Karen said. "I'm a cop. I have too much to do right now. With you and Hank in here, I'm carrying a full load. When I go home at night I'm exhausted."

"Did I hear my name?" came Hank's Texas twang from the doorway. He was dressed in hospital pajamas that didn't come all the way to his ankles and a hospital robe. "What's the problem?"

"Dana's gone," Karen explained. "Mr. High and Mighty here thinks he can get out of this bed to go looking for her."

Hank stepped closer. When he saw Karen's solution to keeping Drew in bed, he burst out laughing. "She sure fixed you."

Drew motioned for the tablet. He wrote: NOT FUNNY.

Karen stepped back to allow Hank to get closer to the bed. Hank told him. "I'm goin' home tomorrow. I can't go back to work yet. I'll see if I can pick up her trail. Nobody goes anywhere in New York without ending up on someone's security camera. I'll start with the security in your apartment building."

"The guard on duty today told me she left by taxi three days ago," Karen added. "Find out which cab company and see if you can find the driver. Maybe you can find out where she went."

Karen and Hank walked out into the hall leaving Charlotte some time alone with her brother. "Thanks, Hank. I know you can find her if anyone can. You weren't a Texas ranger because you're stupid."

****

"Thanks," Dana said to the bus driver as he got her luggage from the compartment on the side of the bus.

A man who got off the same time she did asked, "Where are you going?"

Dana pointed to the door of the diner where the bus stopped in the small town north of Concord, New Hampshire. "In there."

"I'll carry your bags inside for you," he offered. "My wife isn't here to pick me up yet."

"I'd appreciate it." She followed him inside and sat on the first stool at the counter. He set her bags down and left.

Dana glanced around at the few customers and then back at the waitress who was coming her way. She switched her attention to the menu on the wall above a pass-through to the kitchen.

"What'll it be?" The waitress had a order pad in her hand.

"A hot dog with ketchup, mustard and relish and a medium milk." Dana got out her wallet so she could pay as soon as the waitress came back. When the waitress came with her milk, Dana noted the name on her tag. "Dolly."

Dana took out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to her. The waitress stared at it dumbfound. "Le'me get this straight. You order a hot dog and a milk, then pay with a hundred."

"That's all I have." Dana could feel her face getting red.

Dolly pushed her red hair back from her face and swiped a marker across the bill to prove it wasn't counterfeit. It passed. "I don't think I have enough in the register to change it."

A voice behind Dana asked, "Can I be of assistance?"

Startled, Dana almost fell off her stool. Dolly held up the bill. The man took it and held it up to the light. "Looks legit to me. How about I just give you five twenties for it?"

"That will be fine, Mr. Mayor," Dolly responded.

He took out his wallet and gave Dolly one of the bills and the other four to Dana. "Bring me a root beer." He sat down on the stool next to Dana. "I saw you come in on the bus. Do you have relatives or friends in town?"

Dana looked over at him. He was average height and weight with friendly blue eyes. "She called you Mr. Mayor."

"So I am. My name is Roger Jones. What's your name?"

Dana stammered, "The...the name I go by is Dana Terrell. But I think my birth name is Antonia Blum. I...I have amnesia. I'm trying to find my past. I think I have an aunt here named Lovina Parker."

He stared at her as if seeing a ghost. "Toni? Your eyes! You have your father's eyes. But you're supposed to be in the witness protection program."

"Some protection! The agent who was to be my contact helped kidnap me. I'm pretty much on my own now. The feds say they don't have a Dana Terrell in the witness protection. I don't know who I am."

"But your fingerprints should be on file."

"Agent Davidson in New York took them and a DNA sample to send to Quantico but he went on vacation and I never heard anything more. I remembered my parents being murdered and went to the library to find information in The Boston Globe. That's how I found out about Aunt Lovina. By reading their obituaries. I'm just trying to find out where I belong."

"Eat your hot dog. Then I'll take you to meet your aunt. I'm sure she will be thrilled to see you again."

Dana insisted on paying for his root beer. "After all, you helped me and you are still helping me. Paying for a root beer is a small repayment. I wouldn't have the inkling of where to look for my aunt."

"Just ask. In a town this size everybody knows everybody else. Come along." He picked up her bags and held the door for her. Outside, he put her bags on the back seat of a red Subaru Forrester. "It's just a short distance to her house. She lives in the old Parker family homestead. Her late husband was Mark Parker. He, your father and I were a threesome in school. I married Doris Parker; your father married Edith Spotts; and Mark married Lovina Spotts." He grinned at her. "You and your cousin Susan, who is now Susan Jones because she married my son, Greg, look very much alike. You used to try to pass yourself off as twins."

"But Mom and Aunt Lovina really were twins, weren't they?"

"Yes. Fraternal twins, not identical. Though they did look a lot alike. Here we are." He pulled in the driveway to a white two-story house. "Wrap your scarf around your face so we can surprise her."

At the door he set her bags down and said, "Stand over here so she can't see you when she opens the door." He opened the storm door before he rang the doorbell.

When the door opened Dana couldn't see who was there because the mayor stood in the way. A woman's voice said, "Roger! You were just here a little while ago."

"So I was. I brought you a present all wrapped up. You'll have to unwrap it to see what it is." He stepped back and took Dana's arm to usher her into the house.

"Roger, what kind of joke is this?"

"Open your present, Lovey." He was grinning from ear to ear.

Lovina unwrapped Dana's scarf and stared into those mysterious eyes. "Oh, my! Toni? Is it really you, Toni?" She threw her arms around the girl and hugged her close. "I thought I'd never see you again this side of heaven. Oh, my dear little girl. You look so much like Susan. Except for your eyes. You have your father's eyes." She hugged Dana again.

Dana was so choked up she could hardly speak. "I'm glad you recognize me. I think I've finally found where I belong."

Lovina stepped back. "But I thought you're in the witness protection program."

"I was. But they didn't protect me. I have amnesia. I was in a coma for three weeks. I am gradually regaining some of my memories."

"Come to the kitchen. You can tell me all about it over a cup of coffee. You, too, Roger."

"I'll take you up on that another time. I'm going to the hospital to see if I'm a grandfather again."

"Let me know." Lovina took Dana's arm and led her to the kitchen where she poured mugs of coffee.

Two children came from the family room across the hall. They stood wide eyed gazing at Dana. "Who're you?" the little boy asked.

"This is your cousin, Toni Blum," Lovina explained.

"Tony's a boy's name," he asserted.

"It's short for Antonia," Lovina said. "Toni, I want you to meet my grandchildren, Nicholas and Michalia Jones. They're Susan's children."

"I'm Nicky," the boy said. "That's short for Nicholas."

Dana aka Toni smiled at him. "How are you today?"

Nicky didn't answer but looked away.

The little girl said, "I'm Micki. Nicky was bad this morning and Gram made him sit on a chair in the corner," the little girl tattled. Nicky struck out at her but she scooted away. "If you hit me Gram will make you sit again!"

"Nicky, behave yourself," Lovina ordered. "Go play so Toni and I can talk."

"I want cookies and milk. Why can't I listen to what you have to say? Is it bad?"

"I'll give you cookies and milk but then you must go play so Toni can tell me the bad stuff."

"The police don't ask as many questions as you do," Toni said as Nicky interrupted with his umpteenth question.

"I just want to know things," he excused.

"Go play," Lovina answered. "If you don't obey, I'll make you take a nap."

"I won't go to sleep," he shot back defiantly.

When his grandmother stood up, he ran from the room screeching like worn-out brakes. "I don't know about that boy sometimes. He is quite the challenge. And now Susan is giving birth to a second set of twins. I don't know how she'll cope. I think I'll take Micki and Nicky along to Florida. You will join us, won't you?" she asked Toni. "It will give you a chance to meet your grandparents, both maternal and paternal. They live down there."

"W-when are you leaving?"

"As soon as Susan has her babies. Come along upstairs and I'll show you to your room. I saved your stuff when the house was sold. Do you remember? Robbie told me to get rid of his because he wouldn't be back. You said you might want yours."

"Do you know where Robbie is now?'

"I'm sorry, but no. I don't know what his new name is. All I know is he's somewhere out west."

# Chapter 20

Capt. Hallinan was in Drew's room when Charlotte arrived. Drew sat up on his bed, minus the handcuffs and minus the mask on his face. A slim plastic line fed oxygen into his nose. On his tray table were the remnants of his supper. He was complaining to Matt. "I don't know how they expect a man to exist off of juice, gelatin, broth and tea. I'm hungry for real food."

"That's got to be a positive sign," the captain commiserated.

Charlotte rushed to his bedside. "I found this stuck in your laptop." She placed the paper in his hand.

He read: Drew, I saw you with that other woman. Your beard didn't fool me one bit. You almost walked right over top of me and never even noticed. I hope she will make you happy.

I am going to find my lost memories. I took $1000 dollars from your safe. I promise to pay back every penny if it takes the rest of my life. I also took your duffel bag, one of your suitcases, your cooler and ice pack and your thermos. I shall reimburse you for them.

I wish for you the best life has to offer. I shall always love you. Dana.

Drew had tears in his eyes when he finished reading. His eyes met Matt's. "We've got to find her."

Matt took the paper from Drew's hand and read it. "This shines a whole new light on it. She stole from you. That makes it a criminal case."

"She borrowed from me," Drew asserted. "I don't want her charged. I want her found. Oh, God! Why did I ever agree to go undercover? I could have found Blaze with good old-fashioned police work. Now I've lost...everything."

Matt said, "I can put out a BOLO."

"No! I don't want the wrong people to find out she's gone. Pendrift and Curtis are still out there somewhere."

"So is Drumheller." Chuck Davidson walked into the room. "Why didn't you invite me to your party?"

Matt passed Dana's letter to him. Chuck read it and passed it back. "I got back from vacation to find that all my work hadn't been kept up with. Under a pile of unopened mail I found the results from Quantico on Dana's fingerprints. According to a report filed three years ago, Jillian Marks, Dana's former witness protection name, had committed suicide. She was cremated and her ashes scattered in the Ozarks. Also included in that report was the notation that Kate West, the woman Jillian lived with, had gone back to her old way of life and he didn't know where she was.

"I got in touch with an agent in Little Rock to find out from the funeral director the size of the woman he cremated. Kate West was a much bigger woman than our Dana. I have a feeling that Drumheller switched identities. Why, I don't know.

"We had Drumheller under house arrest with a GPS bracelet on his ankle and a guard outside his door. He managed to drug the guard and is gone, God only knows where. We're watching all the ports. It's my guess that if he tries to leave the country it won't be by legal means. At this time, we haven't a clue of what he's up to or where he is."

"You can bet Pendrift and Curtis are in on it," Drew growled. "All the more reason to find Dana ASAP. How are we going to go about it?"

"You are not going to do anything but stay in the hospital until the doctor says you can leave," Matt ordered. "I can put these cuffs back on you just as easy as I took them off. I think I'll leave them here in case the nurses have to keep you under control."

"I'll behave as long as I can see some progress being made."

Charlotte had stepped back to allow Chuck to get close to Drew's bed. She came forward and asked, "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just keep your brother tame," Matt said dryly. "I have Hank working on it unofficially and Terri asked to take vacation until IA gets through with their investigation. She wants to help Hank. Somewhere Dana's got to be on someone's security cameras."

****

"Aunt Lovey, may I make a long distance call? This number keeps floating around in my mind and I'd like to find out if it's for real."

"Go ahead."

Dana looked up the area code for eastern Washington and punched in the number. It rang five times and her courage was disappearing. She was ready to hang up when a woman's voice answered. She sounded like she'd been running.

"Hello. I'm Dana Terrell..."

"Dana! Where are you? Are you all right? That Montana cop said your fell and hit your head and..."

"Please slow down," Dana pleaded. "If you talked to Sergeant Orren you know that I have amnesia. I don't know who you are. All I can remember is the number."

"It's me! Cass! Cassandra Slater. I'm your next door neighbor. Are you coming back to Spokane?"

"I must. It seems I have a business to take care of. Right now I'm in New Hampshire with my Aunt Lovina. I'm fine except for my memory and Aunt Lovina thinks I'm too thin so she's going to try to fatten me up. I really am all right. Now that I know who you are, maybe I can dredge up some memories that are good. It seems I remember the bad things."

"That sergeant said you were in the witness protection program. You never told me."

"I wasn't supposed to tell anybody. That's the purpose of the program. They found me anyway thanks to Drumheller. He was supposed to protect me."

"Drumheller! He's the FBI agent that called me after I reported you missing. He said he had you in protective custody."

"Yeah. He said that. He helped kidnap me. But I escaped from them. That's when I fell."

"How soon are you coming back?" Cass asked.

"I don't know. Aunt Lovey wants me to go along to Florida with her. We plan to leave after church on Sunday."

"I'm going to Florida, too. I'm flying in to Orlando on Monday."

"That's great. Maybe we can get together down there. Can you bring my purse along with you? I need a legal ID. Aunt Lovey wants to talk to you." Dana passed the phone to her aunt.

"Where are you going to be in Florida?"

"I have reservations for a hotel in Orlando."

"I can save you money. I'll call my father and have him pick you up at the airport. Their house is big enough to accommodate one more. I'd like to meet you. Can you e-mail me a picture of you so Dad will recognize you? And maybe if Toni, Dana that is, sees it she can remember more about you." Lovina hung up the phone. "She's going to be Mom and Dad's house guest. That way we won't have to travel to visit."

****

"From the grin on your face I would guess you have some good news for me," Drew said as Hank strolled into his room on Saturday afternoon.

Hank held up a roll of papers. "I told you she'd be on someone's security cameras. I have them in chronological order to make it easier to explain what she did." He laid the first paper on the tray table.

Drew left out a breath of air like he'd been punched in the stomach. "Damn! Damn! Damn!"

"Are you all right, Drew?"

"Hell, no! I almost walked over her and didn't even know it was her. Where'd she get that coat and scarf and hat."

"The hat, scarf and mittens she knitted and crocheted. Iris Davidson gave her the coat." Hank laid the next picture down. "In the stairwell." Another picture. "At the north entrance. Outside the north entrance." He laid down picture after picture. "At the bus stop. On the street at another bus stop. In the library. Upstairs in the library. I talked to the librarian. She said Dana made photocopies of articles about a double murder in Boston and the obituaries of the two people killed."

Hank laid down another picture. "You and that Becker woman across the street from the camera. This one shows Dana coming into the picture. You almost knocked her down."

"Oh, God!" Drew moaned. "Why didn't I pay more attention?"

"Because you were working undercover and if you'd noticed her you'd have blown your cover." Hank hesitated before laying down the next photo. "She walked right out into traffic and she didn't go to the bus stop. She just kept walking. About an hour later she was photographed passing the parking garage behind your apartment building. When she was going up the stairs, she had her scarf loose and you can see she's crying."

He looked at Drew with sympathy. "The top brass left her in a hell of a fix. She didn't know where you were. No one bothered with her much. I spent part of Christmas with her but I got called out. Then I got the flu and it turned into pneumonia. Last week I was in the bed you're in now. I ain't makin' excuses. I just sayin' someone should have looked out for her and let her know where you were." He laid down the last two pictures. "The fella helpin' her with her bag is Longenburger. He lives on the same floor as you do."

"Yes. I know him."

"The other shows her getting into a cab. I sent Terri around to the cab companies to see if she can find out who picked her up so we can find where she went."

"She went to Boston," Drew declared. "That's where her past lies."

"You sure about that?"

"As sure as I can be. She said she would be safe in Boston but she couldn't tell me why. Somehow Drumheller is mixed up in this. And now he's on the loose again because the FBI got lax in keeping him locked up. I had him and they let him slip away. Pisses me off big time. You just wait till the next time Chuck comes in here."

Jan came in the room. "Hello, Hank. Do you like it up here?"

"Not really."

"That's good because the lieutenant is getting a new home. We're moving him out of ICU. And right now I'm going to take that catheter out."

After Drew was moved to his new room, he pressed the call button. When a nurse came in, he said, "I'm hungry."

"That's a good sign. I'll see what I can find to tide you over until dinner comes." She came back in about fifteen minutes with some cookies and a ginger ale.

"How about some coffee? Black."

"I think I can manage that."

While the nurse went for his coffee, Drew called his sister. "Bring about seven pairs of undershorts and tee shirts the next time you come in."

"You expect me to go through your underwear drawer?"

Drew laughed. "They're made of cotton cloth. They don't bite."

She drew a deep breath. "I'll be in this evening. Since you're out of danger, I'm going back to Geneva tomorrow."

Drew was drinking his coffee when Chuck Davidson and Matt Hallinan walked in. "Anytime you two get together, trouble follows."

Chuck grinned and held out his hand. "How are you doing?"

Drew grasped his hand. "I'm out of the ICU. I guess I'll survive."

"You succeeded in bringing down Blaze," Matt said.

"Like hell I did. I only got Cammy. Terri got Doug. She was just in here. She told me she was promoted."

"I asked around. Everyone agreed she deserved it."

"I'd like to have her as a partner when I get back. Or are you going to move me out of homicide? I put a lot of hard work in that department. Not just in the field but in furthering my education."

"You education and experience is why you will be shifted to CSI."

"I don't want to go to CSI. Dammit, Matt. I earned everything I've got and then some."

"There's an opening in IA."

"When hell freezes over," Drew shot back. "Why are you so hell bent on moving me?"

"Because of your physical condition. I'm not saying you can't get back in homicide. Just not now. I'll have two teams working. Karen and Bailey and Hank and Justin Eisler. We'll see what happens when you're well enough to come back to work.

"Speaking of Hank, do you know where he is?"

"No. Should I?"

"I haven't been able to reach him by cell phone. He has it turned off," Hallinan said.

"He was in just before they moved me up here. He didn't say where he was going."

"Finding Dana is an FBI case. She's a witness and she's missing," Chuck interrupted.

"So is the man who has been trying to abduct her," Drew shot back. "She's not missing. We just don't know where she is. Her note says she's going to find her lost memories. Hank found out she was at the library. He talked to the librarian. Dana looked up in the Boston Globe about a double murder. It's my guess she's in Boston."

"She may have remembered something that put her on that track," Chuck theorized. "I got a call back from that agent in Little Rock. He faxed a picture of the woman who was creamated. It was another woman in the witness protection program named Kate West."

"The sketch Dana made of the woman who hung herself." Drew's mind was working fast. "Let's say this West woman committed suicide. Dana said she did and I believe her. Drumheller used Kate's death as a way to make Jillian Marks disappear. He gives her a new identity and ships her off to Spokane so he knows where to find her. Then when he's ready, he gets together with Pendrift and Curtis to kidnap her. But she got away from them. Now they have to kidnap her all over again. The two pieces missing are who are they working for and why."

"Her disappearance ramps up the need to know on this case. I've got to get back in touch with Quantico and tell them I need Dana's birth name and why she was in the witness protection program. And I have to get in touch with the agency in Boston to put a couple of agents on her trail."

"No!" Drew protested. "Dana doesn't trust the FBI. Let Hank find her. He used to be a Texas ranger. He's like a bloodhound when he gets on a trail."

"It's an FBI case," Chuck insisted. "If Hank doesn't back off, he'll be arrested for interfering with an FBI case."

"You know he went to Boston, don't you?" Hallinan said.

"I don't know it; I suspect that's where he is. You did tell him to find her."

# Chapter 21

Drew exercised his right arm and leg. He wanted to keep the part of him that wasn't wounded strong. He felt more comfortable about it now that he wore his boxer-briefs and tee shirt. The phone on the bed railing rang and he picked it up. "Ward here."

"Drew, this is Matt. Have you heard anything from Hank yet?"

"No. I've left several messages on his voice mail. It isn't like him to ignore them."

"I did, too. I wonder where the hell he is."

"Guess who just walked in with a big grin on his face."

"Hank? Let me talk to him."

Drew held up the phone. "Captain wants to talk at you."

"I ain't even had time to say hello. Am I in trouble?"

Drew shook his head. "Don't know."

Hank held the phone to his ear. "O'Connor."

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Boston and New Hampshire. You did tell me to find Dana. I not officially on the case so I can do what I want."

"The FBI is taking over the case. Chuck Davidson wants to know everything you found out. Meet me in my office ASAP."

"As soon as I tell Drew what I learned. I'm doing this for him. And I got to stop for something to eat. I haven't had anything since breakfast." He handed the phone back to Drew.

"Did you find her?"

"Nope. But I found where she'd been and I know where she's going. I got to tell this as quick as I can because I have to tell Chuckie and Matt. She got into Boston during that blizzard. Hank went on to explain about Dana's arrival in Boston.

"Back to the present. Dana had gone to New Hampshire to find her Aunt Lovina. So I went to New Hampshire to find her Aunt Lovina. I stopped at a diner and there I met the mayor of the town. His son is married to Lovina's daughter. He told me they are on their way to Florida. He wasn't sure about what part of Florida but he said he'll ask his daughter-in-law and give me a call. I gave him the number for the police station because my cell phone died.

"I'll get back to you later. Matt wants me to meet him and Chuckie at his office ASAP. See you later."

****

"How's it feel to be home?" Hank asked as he eased Drew down to sit on the couch.

"A hell of a lot better than being in the hospital," Drew growled.

"I bought groceries yesterday," Hank said. "Are you sure you'll be all right alone? Do you want me to make you something for dinner?"

"Yes, to both questions. Help me up so I can go to the bathroom."

"If you want I can stay the night," Hank offered as he gave Drew a hand up to steady him.

"I'm not a baby. I can take care of myself. Are you going to make supper or must I do it myself? I'm hungry." Drew walked shakily to the bathroom.

"Coming right up," Hank called after him. In the kitchen, he grumbled, "Me an' my big mouth. I ain't no good cook." He took out the fixings for sandwiches. He was glad he'd thought to buy potato salad and coleslaw the day before.

Drew came walking gingerly through the living room. He leaned against the counter. "You call that getting supper? I thought you were going to cook something. I can do that good myself."

"Get your ass over here and sit down." Hank set a plateful of food on the counter and stood by as Drew sat on the first stool just as the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." Hank headed for the door. "Come on in, Chuck. Join the party."

"Some party," Drew scoffed. "I need a home cooked meal. Not a sandwich."

"You know I can't cook worth a darn," Hank defended. "Ma never taught me."

"Mama never taught me either. I bought a cookbook and followed the directions." Drew took a bite of his sandwich.

Chuck winked at Hank. "Sounds like he's feeling better." Chuck went to the counter by the sink to construct a sandwich from the meat, cheese and lettuce Hank had laid out. He brought a plate to the eating counter and sat down on the stool between the two men.

"You didn't come over here to make small talk," Drew ventured.

"They told me at the hospital you'd come home. We know where Dana is."

Drew swallowed. "She's in Florida."

"Vero Beach, Florida. Agent Foster has an appointment to interview her around nine tomorrow morning. He's a good agent."

Tears welled up in Drew's eyes. "Can you get in touch with him to tell Dana to call me?"

"I can do that, Drew, but don't expect too much. She left of her own free will. I can't force her to come back."

"She saw me with that Becker bitch and assumed I'd found someone else. She didn't know I was undercover. I told you guys it was a mistake not to tell her. As far as I'm concerned, the whole damn mess was a mistake. Damn near got me killed. And it cost me Dana. Someone needs to tell her the truth. If she'll talk to me I'll tell her to come back; that I love her."

"I'll be sure to call Foster tonight yet. No promises. As far as the FBI is concerned, we need a full statement from her on everything she knows about Drumheller, Curtis and Pendrift. I told him to offer her witness protection but I doubt she'll accept it after what's happened to her. I also told him to inform her that Drumheller escaped and we don't know where he is."

"Don't worry about her, Drew," Hank said. "She's safe with family now. That's what she needs. She'll probably come along back to New Hampshire with them once their vacation is over. She needs a little fun in the sun. She's been through hell. She deserves to feel loved and secure. From what Jones told me, they're good people."

"I'm glad she found her family," Drew choked. "But I need to tell her I love her. She said she loved me, but I put her off. After what Deirdre did to me I didn't trust any woman. Until Dana. I need a chance to make it up to her. I just want a chance to talk to her."

****

"Hello, Agent Foster." Dana made sure that she answered the doorbell. She stepped out with two bottles of water, one of which she handed to Foster. "Walk with me to that bench down the beach. I would like to spare my family the details of what happened to me." Without waiting for his approval, she walked across the street to where a set of steps led down the short incline to the sand.

"Miss Terrell," he began as he followed her. "That is the name you are using, isn't it?"

She smiled up at him. "That will do fine. I'm not sure who I am. Exactly what information do you want from me?"

"Everything that deals with Drumheller, Curtis and Pendrift. I have been instructed to make sure you are aware that Drumheller escaped custody and we do not know where he is. The thinking is that he has fled the country."

"By the tone of your voice I gather that you don't quite agree." Dana sat down on the wooden bench that was anchored in concrete. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure but I believe it has something to do with you and the reason you were kidnapped from your home in Spokane. It seems that he deliberately took you out of the true witness program for his own reasons. Which brings me to the question as to whether he ever approached you in a sexual manner."

"No. I would never have agreed. I do not like the man."

As soon as they were seated, Foster got out a tape recorder. "I want you to start at the beginning and tell me everything you remember about Drumheller from the day he took over your case until the present. He impersonated a U.S. marshal when he pretended to be your contact. We're still digging into that."

Dana took a few minutes to think. "The first I knew of Drumheller was when he came to the house in Little Rock. He said my contact had retired and he was now my contact. Kate West, the woman I lived with, was also in the witness protection program."

Foster let her tell her story up to the point of Kate West's suicide. "He could not have known that Kate would hang herself. I wonder... Go ahead, Miss Terrell."

"Are you thinking that Kate's hanging wasn't suicide?"

"It's open to speculation. It could explain a few things. Go ahead. Where were you after you rejected Kate's advances?"

"Upstairs packing. I couldn't live in that house anymore. I thought she killed herself for spite and wanted me to feel guilty," Dana faltered. "I had no idea..."

"It's pure speculation on my part. What did you do when you found her?"

"After I threw up, I called 911. Then I called Drumheller."

"How long did it take for him to get there?"

Dana felt like someone punched her in the stomach. "About fifteen minutes. Right after the cops. Oh, God. That means he wasn't too far away. He told me my identity would be compromised by the publicity and I would need a new name and location. He told me to think about what I wanted my name to be and where I wanted to move to. Then he went to talk to the police about the sensitivity of the fact that Kate and I were both in the witness protection program."

"This is highly irregular. Two people in the witness protection program shouldn't have been living together unless they were family. What next?"

"He took care of funeral expenses. He said Kate didn't have any family; that she wanted to be cremated and her ashes scattered in the Ozarks. I never gave it a thought that he would tell them her name was Jillian Marks and then report me dead. He said he had a plan that no one would ever find me. No one but him that is. Thinking back, I can see I made some very stupid mistakes."

"You didn't make any mistakes, Dana. You trusted the man who was supposed to be helping you when, in fact, he was making sure no one else could find you."

Dana told him in detail all she remembered about moving to Spokane and buying the cottage beside Cassandra Slater. She told him about her business in the fashion industry. "When Drumheller came to my door with two other men, I assumed they were also U.S. marshals. It was easy for them to abduct me. I'm not very big. Drumheller and Curtis are both big men. They drugged me."

She told him how she escaped and about falling. "I could have died out there in the wilds of Montana if not for those hikers. I shall be forever grateful that one of them was an EMT." She went on to fill him in up to the present.

Foster explained. "I have been instructed to inform you that a Lieutenant Drew Ward of NYPD wants you to call him."

"I am still in danger of being kidnapped again, am I not?"

"I would guess so. We can put you back in the witness protection program."

"I've already been down that road; don't want to go there again. The feds didn't protect me; NYPD didn't protect me. I'm going into my own witness protection program. When I leave here the only person who will know where I'm going will be me. This time I won't be penniless having to depend on truck drivers to get me where I'm going. I have money. I've burned my bridges. In a few days I'll simply disappear. The FBI has all the information I can give them. That's all there is to it." She stood up ending the conversation.

Dana had plans to make a clean getaway. "Aunt Lovey, I need to do some shopping. And does Grandma have a sewing machine?"

"Yes, she does. Mom wouldn't know what to do if she couldn't sew. I'll take you shopping. When do you want to go?"

"This afternoon?"

"Fine with me. Do you want Cass to go along?"

"I'll ask her. I need to make a list." Dana needed to buy some things to make sure she could disguise herself easily.

# Chapter 22

"I just want to tell you my plans," Dana told the expectant faces turned toward her as they gathered in the living room of her grandparents' house. "I am leaving by taxi tonight. Then I plan to disappear. I have some deadly characters trying to find me and the people I'm around have a habit of turning up dead. In order to protect you, I must go. I will let you know from time to time how I am doing. If you do not hear from me in more than a month, contact one or all the people on this list." She handed Uncle Bob a sheet of tablet paper.

"Toni, we can protect you," he protested.

"No, you can't. The men who are after me are completely ruthless. I do not want any of you to be hurt. I know what I'm doing. I have already set in motion the plans to disappear. I will meet a friend and he will take me to an airport. That is all I can tell you. The taxi will be here soon so I want to hug each of you. I love you all. But I must do this to protect you. Maybe God will see to it that I can come back to you someday. Farewell."

She just finished making the rounds hugging and saying goodbye when a horn honked outside. Uncle Bob carried her suitcases to the cab. "I don't like this one bit, Toni." He kissed her on the forehead and reluctantly let her go.

As soon as she was in the cab, she took out her cheap cell phone and dialed. "Gavin, are you there yet?"

"I'm right here waiting for you."

"I'm on my way."

Gavin Foresman was one of the truck drivers she had ridden with on her way to New York. It was fortuitous that he'd been in Jacksonville when she contacted him. He was on a run to Tampa and would take her to the airport there. She'd already put her Florida ID at the front of her wallet cards. She was now Antonia Blum. She had her birth certificate to prove it. She still hadn't made a decision on her flight destination.

"Gavin, you must not tell anyone about your helping me. My cover depends on that."

"Dana, why don't you stay with me? I can keep you safe. We'd be on the road all the time."

"No. We'd have to makes stops where I could be recognized. I plan to get a new identity and stay under the radar of the cops and the crooks. Please trust me to know what's best."

After that he didn't argue. He dropped her at a restaurant outside Tampa. She called a cab and while she waited she ordered a sub and a coffee to go. She would eat in the cab. She could sleep on the plane.

When she stood in line to buy her ticket, she decided to go to New Orleans. With Mardi Gras approaching, she could get lost in the crowds until she decided to move on. While waiting for her plane in the Tampa airport, she recalled that she hadn't had a period that month. She went to the drugstore section and bought a pregnancy test. In the restroom she tested herself. It had a positive read. No full body scan for her. She was still reeling from her discovery when she boarded the plane. It would definitely call for some changes in her plans. She agonized on whether she should call Drew. She strengthened her resolve to go it alone.

She stayed three days in New Orleans while she worked out the next phase of her plans. She withdrew three hundred dollars from her bank account in Spokane and bought a money order for that amount which she sent to Drew along with a brief note: Please don't think harshly of me for leaving this way. I need to disappear into the masses. That way Drumheller and his goons will not be able to hurt the ones I love. This is the last you will hear from me. I can't risk making contact. Take care of yourself and I hope the woman you were with will make you happy. This is goodbye forever. Antonia Blum. She brushed away a tear as she sealed the envelope. Her letter snipped off the last string connecting them and it hit her hard. She kept his phone number in case she changed her mind.

Then she addressed a postcard to Uncle Bob saying she was okay and would he pass it along to the other family members? Before she left Vero Beach, she had boxed up Drew's suitcase and duffel bag and shipped it back to him by UPS.

When she left the hotel she wore short black boots over black hose, a black skirt that came down to her boot tops, a black, long-sleeved turtleneck and a black blazer that fit her loosely. On her head she wore a white scarf that was just a square of material from which threads were removed to create an inch-long fringe around it. She tied it under her chin like a bandana. After she put on her oversized sunglasses only the lower part of her face showed. "Take me to the bus station," she told the taxi driver. There she bought a ticket to Houston under the name of Jillian Marks.

It was late afternoon when she arrived in Houston so she found a room in a motel. The next morning she rented a car as Dana Terrell and drove to San Antonio where she once again became Antonia Blum. She turned in her rented car at the airport and bought a ticket for Phoenix, Arizonia. She stood in line for the safety screening.

"Take off your sunglasses so the scanner can see your eyes," ordered a security officer.

She took off her sunglasses but as soon as she passed the scanning camera, she put them back on. "The bright light hurts my eyes," she explained. She didn't welcome the pat down but X-ray was out of the question.

"Take off your wig," the female security officer.

Toni complied. "I had brain surgery and my hair is very short," she explained. She had just come back when they called her to unlock her suitcase because of a "suspicious object."

"It's just a box of my mother's jewelry," she said. "My grandmother gave it to me when I visited her in Florida." She unlocked the case and took out the cedar box and opened it. "I don't think any of the pins can inflict much harm to anyone."

On the plane Dana sat in an aisle seat as close to the restroom as possible, a seat she had requested because her stomach felt queasy and she didn't know if she could safely take a motion sickness pill because of her pregnancy.

A young woman about the same age as Dana sat in the middle seat with and overweight man in the window seat. He kept moving around and elbowing the woman next to Dana.

"If you elbow me one more time," the woman threatened, "I'm going to twist your arm around the other way."

He glared at her and crowded closer to the window. "I'll have you arrested for assault."

The woman turned her attention to Dana, "Hi, my name is Celia but my friends and family call me Pepper, because of my freckles. Do you live in the Phoenix area?"

"No," Dana returned. "I live wherever I happen to be. Right now that's on this plane."

"You mean you don't have a home?"

"I mean that I am alive so I am living here for the time being. I have a home but it isn't in Phoenix." Dana clapped a hand over her mouth and made for the restroom.

Pepper summoned an attendant. "The girl who was sitting in this seat is sick. She's in the restroom."

The attendant knocked on the restroom door. "Are you all right?"

Dana opened the door and came out. Her face was pale and she was shaking. The attendant took her arm and helped her to her seat. Pepper sprang to her feet as Dana's knees buckled. She helped the attendant set Dana in her seat.

"I'll find out if there's a doctor on board." The attendant picked up a microphone and spoke into it. "Is there a doctor on board? One is needed in Economy Class."

A short time later and smallish man with glasses approached them. "Can I be of assistance?"

"Are you a doctor?"

"I'm a gynecologist. What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm sick," Dana said weakly. "I didn't eat much breakfast; just toast and tea. I know I get motion sickness. I think it's more than just the motion sickness. I'm pregnant."

He nodded. "That would explain a lot. He opened his bag and took out a blood pressure cuff which he placed around Dana's arm. "Blood pressure's up a little but that could be from vomiting. Your pulse is also a little fast but not too bad. Do you have any Tums?"

"No. All I have is motion sickness pills and I don't know if it's safe to take them."

The doctor took a bottle of Tums from his bag and gave it to her. "I think it would be better to take the Tums if it works for you. The extra calcium will be good for your baby."

As they deplaned, Pepper asked, "Do you have a place to go?"

"I'll just get a hotel room and rest up until I feel better."

"No, you won't. You're coming home with me. You're too sick to be alone. Mom will love to have someone else to talk to. Just don't take her too serious when she tells you stories of when we were kids."

# Chapter 23

"Lieutenant, we are here to get your version of what happened back in January. Have you spoken to any of the participants yet?"

Drew was dressed in a gray suit with a tie the color of his eyes. "Yes, but we didn't discuss the case. I requested that Terri Sylvan come to my hospital room so I could thank her for saving my life. She told me she has been promoted and will move out to a precinct in Queens."

"That has already occurred," said Ella Lightner, the IA officer in charge of the panel of three IA officers. Her gray hair was short and she wore no makeup. Her facial expression was stoic but her dark eyes were inquisitive.

"I also spoke with Clayton Eisler. He visited me in the hospital. I do not know what they have told IA and they have no bearing on what I shall tell you." Drew looked each of the three officers in the eye. "I will tell you that I accepted the undercover assignment with much misgiving. I had a gut feeling that the it was doomed for failure."

Sgt. Frank Dubalus asked, "How can you call it a failure if Blaze was taken off the streets?"

"I got shot. I nearly died. Maybe Chantell is off the streets but I could have gotten the same results with plain, old-fashioned police investigation. I already suspected Chantell, especially after I talked to Maller. I was overruled."

"If you suspected Chantell, why didn't you do something sooner? It's been three years since Blaze first appeared on the scene." Ronald Gabriel rubbed the side of his nose and peered over reading spectacles.

"Not my case. It didn't become my case until that execution. Chantell spent a lot of time trying to track up that crime scene even after I told him to get behind the tape. He should never have been put on guard of Maller at the hospital."

"Am I to infer that you would like the people who put you undercover charged with negligence?"

"No. I just wish I'd spoken out against it more strongly. I let them talk me into it because it was a feasible plan. Feasible but dangerous. Very dangerous. I hadn't gotten any evidence to prove Chantell was guilty. Unfortunately he was onto me before I was onto him."

"In what way?" Ella asked.

"The tattoo I have on me behind. She knew about it. It's in my personnel file as an identification mark but I didn't broadcast it around the force. Only two officers other than my superiors knew about it. Reggie Phipps and Doug Chantell. They were in the locker room that day I had to shower because I chased a perp down in the sewers. I can't see Reggie doing anything against the rules. He's out to prove blacks can be good cops and he's doing an excellent job of it. That left Chantell. By the time I knew it, it was too late. Cammy Becker was standing there with her gun trained on me." Drew frowned. "If there's one thing that I object to in this assignment, it's that I was expected to have sex with that Becker bitch. That was a hard row to hoe but it was the only way to get close to Chantell. You have the rest of the information about what happened."

Ella shuffled through the papers in front of her. "Wait outside. I am sure it won't take long for us to make a decision."

Drew took a seat in the corridor outside the door. Five minutes later, Dubalus stuck his head out the door. "Come on in, Lieutenant."

Drew didn't even get a chance to sit down when Ella gave their decision. "We find that you acted in self defense when you shot and killed Camilla Becker. You can go back to work as soon as your doctor clears you for light duty and you have a psychological evaluation. We will notify you when your appointment is scheduled with Dr. Newcombe. That is all for now. Have a good day."

Drew showed no emotion. "I thank you for your decision." He turned and walked out. Maybe it would be a good day. He exited the building into the late February sunshine and hailed a taxi. The doctor hadn't yet given him permission to drive his own vehicle. When he got out in front of the apartment building where he lived, he walked a little straighter and didn't limp as badly as he had. He was going to be all right. Except for missing Dana. Why had he let them talk him into going undercover.

He unlocked his mailbox and took out a small stack of letters. Mostly bills. Shuffling through them, he walked to the elevator. He stopped dead when he saw Dana's handwriting on an envelope. Once in the elevator he ripped it open. He pulled out the letter and unfolded it. There was the money order for three hundred dollars. He read through the letter twice before the meaning hit him hard. She was telling him it was goodbye forever.

Tears welled up in his eyes so that he couldn't read the postmark. He brushed them away. New Orleans! What the hell is Dana doing in New Orleans? But she had signed it Antonia Blum. Was she going back to her birth name? Or was she just trying to confuse him. He walked down the corridor to his apartment. A large package sat outside his door. He stopped short. Was Blaze's gang trying to get even?

He took out his cell phone and called security downstairs. "Did you see who brought that box that's sitting outside my door."

"UPS," was the answer.

Drew went on to insert the key card in the newly installed door lock. He used his foot to push the box inside where he laid his mail on the dining table. He picked up the box and set it up on the table. It was heavy enough to make his wounds hurt but not overly so. He went to the kitchen to get a knife to cut the duct tape. He pulled the flaps apart and stared at what was inside. In anger he shoved the box from the table and it landed on end against the coffee table where his suitcase tumbled out.

"Bitch!" He cursed roundly. It wasn't enough that she'd sent him a money order. She'd sent his suitcase back, too. He wondered if there was anything in the suitcase. Pulling it from the box, he set it on the coffee table and opened it. Inside was his duffel bag and an envelope with his name on it. Inside was thirty dollars and a short note explaining that the money was for the thermos and cooler she'd left on the bus. Damn! Damn! Damn!

He flung the suitcase across the room and sat down on the couch with his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. His heart was breaking. Well, he deserved it, didn't he? He'd told Dana he didn't love her. How long could he expect her to hang around alone, especially after she'd seen him with Cammy Becker? He cursed himself for being so stupid.

The doorbell chimed and he yelled, "Who is it?"

"Hank. I fetched some lunch."

"Come in. The door isn't locked."

Hank came in with two large pastrami sandwiches, a bag of chips and a two-liter bottle of Coke. "Word at the station is that IA cleared you for killing Becker. Hey, man, why so glum?"

"Read that letter on the table. Dana is telling me goodbye forever."

Hank set down his bag and picked up the letter to read it. A frown puckered his forehead as he picked up the envelope to see the postmark. "New Orleans. Looks like she's moving west." Hank glanced at Drew and noted the box and suitcase on the floor. "Looks like you're breaking up housekeeping."

Drew leaned back and ran his hands over his hair. "She sent back my suitcase and duffel bag along with thirty dollars to cover the thermos and cooler she left on the bus. She's severing all ties with me. I don't know what to do."

"We keep looking. If we have to we get Chuckie to help us. If I could, I'd take a week and follow her trail, but with you off, we're shorthanded in homicide."

"She sent me a money order for three hundred dollars."

"I saw it. That just means she's honest and keeps her word. Don't forget. She saw you with that Becker woman. That hit her hard. We gotta get in touch with Chuck and find out if his agent told her about Drumheller."

"He told her. Why else is she running?"

Drew's cell rang and he reached to the inside pocket of his jacket to get it. "Ward here...Slow down, Jenny, I can't understand you...Which hospital?...I'll be there as quickly as I can get through lunch hour traffic." He disconnected. "Hank, are you on duty?"

"No. I'm off early because I got called out at three this morning."

"Will you take me to the hospital ER. Mama fell and hit her head on the kitchen counter."

"As soon as I put these sandwiches in the fridge. I'm parked in your parking space."

"I can go the stairs as long as I'm going down. Lock the door on your way out." Hank's dark blue extended cab pickup had flashing lights mounted in the grill and he had a siren. He opened it up as soon as they left the parking lot."

They were halfway to the hospital when Hank's cell rang. He pulled it out and held it to his ear. "Hello, Matt. What's up?"

"Where are you?"

"In my truck."

"I just got a call from a doctor about elderly abuse. Can you look into it?"

"That's not usually our case."

"The doctor said she may not survive. It's bad. Blunt force trauma to the back of her head."

Hank frowned as he listened to the directions. "I'm on my way."

"You can just drop me at the door if you have a callout," Drew said.

Hank glanced over at him. "It's a case of elder abuse at the same ER we're headed for. Blunt force trauma to the head."

Drew's eyes widened. "No way. Jenny'd never hurt Mama."

"Maybe it's just a coincidence..."

"Cops don't believe in coincidences," Drew reminded him.

"Yeah." Hank guided his truck to the ER doors.

"You can't park there," a security guard told him.

Hank flashed his badge and kept walking. Inside he stopped at the check-in desk. "I'm Sergeant O'Connor. I just got a call about a case of elder abuse."

The receptionist looked up as she picked up the phone. "Dr. Day, the police are here...He said to send you back. Do you know...?"

"I know. I ain't no rookie."

Drew glanced around the waiting room but didn't see Jenny. Maybe they'd let her back with Mama. He followed Hank. As if they'd synchronized it they both took out their cell phones to turn them off.

Hank again showed his badge to a nurse. "I'm supposed to talk to Dr. Day."

"Yes, sir." She lowered her voice. "I think he's overreacting. That maid wouldn't be nearly so upset if she'd hit the woman."

"Are we talking about Constance Ward?" Drew asked.

"Yes, do you know her?"

"She's my mother. Jenny would never deliberately hurt her. Where is Jenny now?"

"The doctor had me put her in a private room. Do you want to talk to her first?"

"No. I want to see Mama first. It's up to Hank to decide to whom he talks first."

"I want to see your mother first."

"Dr. Day, these are two police detectives about the elder abuse." She turned a walked away as if she wanted no part of it.

The first thing Drew did was check his mother's pulse. It was weak but was there.  
When the doctor roughly turned his mother so they could see the back of her head, Drew stopped him. "Gently. She's still alive."

"I doubt she'll recover. The injury is far worse than falling against a kitchen counter would cause. As you can easily see."

"Even if the counter were granite?" Drew asked.

"Even so, she would have had to hit it with force to cause that bad of an injury."

"I have to agree with him, Drew. Take a look." Hank had removed the bloody bandage to look at the wound.

Drew looked. "I'm going to talk to Jenny if someone will tell me where she is. I know she wouldn't deliberately hurt Mama."

"This woman is your mother? You shouldn't be on this case," the doctor protested.

"I'm not. I came to see about Mama since I'm one of the persons on her living will and I have power of attorney. Where's Jenny?"

"The nurse will tell you."

"Don't you think you should do an MRI to see the extent of the damage?" Drew asked in a tone that made it sound like an order instead of a question.

He found Jenny in a private room pacing back and forth weeping. "Oh, Drew!" she cried. "Is she going to be all right?"

He took her hands and led her to a chair where he squatted down in front of her. "No. She isn't, Jenny. I don't think she's going to make it. That stupid doctor is calling it elder abuse. Jenny, I need you to tell me exactly what happened. Do you understand?" He took out his handkerchief and handed it to her to dry her tears.

"I caught your mother taking more pills than what she was supposed to. She seemed to think that if she took more they would help her recover her memory. I hid her pills on the top shelf of the cupboard and tried to keep an eye on her. But I had to go to the bathroom. When I came back to the kitchen, she was standing on a chair with a bottle of pills in her hand. 'Miss Connie, give me the pills,' I said. I was trying to move real slow and easy so I wouldn't spook her. She's unpredictable. She tried to hold them behind her back to hide them. 'Give me the pills,' I said and took another step closer. She forgot she was standing on a chair and stepped back. She fell and hit her head on the counter."

Jenny mopped at her tears. "I tried to do what I could but I saw right away she was hurt too bad for me to fix her up. I called 911 and told them I needed an ambulance right away. Then I put the chair back up to the table so the medics would have room to get to her. Are they going to arrest me, Drew?"

"Not if I can help it." He stood up and turned around to be face to face with Hank. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough. Drew, I want to take a couple CSIs out to that apartment just to show that the evidence matches Jenny's story. That doctor's a jerk. He insists that Jenny pushed your mom."

"I didn't." Jenny stood up. "It happened just like I said."

"I have no reason not to believe you. I just want to prove it scientifically. But first I'm going to get something to eat."

"I've got to call Charlotte. Jenny and I need to eat, too. It's nearly suppertime and I've had no dinner. If I remember correctly there's a little bistro down the hall." He reached out for Jenny's hand. "Come along. There's nothing you can do here."

Drew seated Jenny at a table along the wall. "What do you want?"

"I don't care. Coffee for sure."

"Pizza?"

She waved a brown hand. "Whatever you want."

He took a number and waited in line for his number to be called. After he got his order, he carried a tray with four generous slices of pizza and two black coffees to the table. "I got two cheese; two pepperoni. Which do you want?"

"I only want one. Cheese will do nicely."

Drew took out his cell and scrolled down to Charlotte's number. It took a while for her to answer. "Charlotte, this is Drew."

"How many times must I tell you not to call me this late?"

"It's about Mama. She fell and hit her head. She might not make it."

"How bad is she?"

"If...if she survives she will probably be blind and will need nursing care around the clock. I told the doctor to do an MRI. I'll know more then."

Charlotte's voice was barely above a whisper. "Drew, we should let her slip away. She won't have any quality of life like that."

"That's what I've been thinking. Jenny's all tore up about it. This asinine doctor's calling it elder abuse. After what Jenny told me, there's no chance it was that. As soon as I done eating, I'm going to tell him I want a second opinion and fast. Hank's going out to Mama's apartment to prove it was just like Jenny said."

"Drew, remember Mama like she was; not like she is now."

"I know. Charlotte, I know we've fought a lot over the years, but I just want you to know: I love you."

"I love you, too, little brother. I'll be on the first plane I can get for New York. I'll probably be in sometime in the morning." She disconnected.

****

Drew stood in the little chapel looking out the one small window to watch the sunrise. Jenny was curled up on the loveseat sleeping. Drew was in his shirt sleeves because he'd spread his jacket over Jenny. He wondered what time Charlotte would arrive in New York. He sighed and sat back down on the blue upholstered chair. It was useless to try to sleep while waiting for his mother to succumb to her injuries and the distress he felt about losing Dana.

He was hungry. He wondered if Jenny would sleep long enough for him to go get them something for breakfast. He found the bistro closed. The posted hours stated that they didn't open until ten thirty. Drew couldn't wait that long so he found a nurse and asked her where the cafeteria was. He found his way there and came back to the room where Jenny slept. "I got us breakfast," he said as he set down the cardboard tray that held their coffees.

"Four?"

"Jenny, we both know neither one of us is going to get by on one cup of coffee. I also got us bacon and egg sandwiches."

They had just finished when a nurse came into the room. "Mrs. Ward is sinking fast. Do you want to be with her at the end?"

"Most definitely. Just lead the way. And if my sister Charlotte Weatherton arrives let her know where we are."

They had moved Mama to a private room. Drew stood beside his mother holding her hand. Jenny stood on the other side of the bed holding her other hand. Jenny's eyes closed and her lips moved. Drew knew she was praying.

Drew tried to pray but no words formed in his mind. Just a feeling of utter desolation. He had lost Dana; now he was losing his mother. It was more than his heart could bear. He fell to his knees and moaned. Jenny came around the bed and held his head against her as sobs racked his body.

"My dear little boy," Jenny murmured as she smoothed his hair back from his face. "Remember, Drew. God hears the groaning of our spirits as well as the words we pray. He eases the pain in our hearts."

His mother drew a long shuddering breath that brought him to his feet. "Mama?"

Her breathing had changed. More ragged and shallow. He knew the end was near. "Come on, Charlotte. Where are you? Call me." His cell rang and he took it out. "Charlotte, where are you?"

"In a taxi. I should be there in minutes."

"You better be if you want to see Mama alive. She's going fast."

Ten minutes later Charlotte ran into the room. Jenny met her with a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry, Miss Charlotte. I'm so sorry."

"It isn't your fault, Jenny. You've got to believe that." Charlotte went to her brother and he hugged her close.

Mama drew a labored breath and was silent. Drew felt for a pulse and there was none. "She's gone."

# Chapter 24

"I want to thank you for your hospitality," Dana said as Pepper helped her with her luggage at the bus station in Yuma. "I'll write to you when I feel it's safe enough to reveal my whereabouts."

"Toni, I think you need to stay here. We can help you."

"I know you think you can help but the men that are trying to abduct me are dangerous. They have killed before. I have contacts with the police and the FBI. All I have to do is call them. It's just that people have been killed trying to help me. I can't let that happen anymore. You gave me a chance to rest and plan. I thank you for that. Goodbye."

They hugged as Dana's bags were loaded into the compartment in the side of the bus. Due to purchases she'd made in Arizona, she now had three suitcases plus her carry-on shoulder bag and her purse. She climbed the steps to the bus and seated herself three seats behind the driver. Placing her bag and purse on the seat beside her, she sat by the aisle blocking anyone else from sitting in that seat.

A young man stopped beside her. "Do you mind if I set with you?"

She looked up. "I mind very much. I do not wish to have company. I want to rest." She looked around. "There are plenty of empty seats." She did try to sleep on the trip to San Diego but couldn't. Her mind buzzed with the plans she made to reach her ultimate destination.

When the bus pulled away in San Diego she flagged down a taxi. The driver loaded her bags into the trunk and held the door for her. "Where to?"

"Someplace where I can rent a car."

The young man who'd been on the bus came up. "Do you mind if I share your cab? I need to get somewhere."

The driver gave her a questioning look. She didn't like being put in a spot like that. "Okay. But I'm not going very far. You will have to pay your own way from then on. Don't pester me with ridiculous questions."

Before she got out at the car rental, Dana gave the cab driver a twenty dollar bill. "Keep the change."

She rented a white Buick and the man who brought the car around helped her place her bags in the trunk. She hadn't noticed the young man hanging around until he accosted her.

"Can I ride along with you?"

"Definitely not. Go leave me alone." She took a step back when he pulled a gun.

"I'm taking this car and you are going with me. Now get in and slide over to the passenger's seat."

"I'd rather walk around."

"Just make sure you get in or I'm going to drive off with your luggage. Now give me the keys."

Dana handed him the keys and stepped back. The worst he can do is kill me. She turned to walk around the car. He opened the door and began to get in.

Grasping her purse strap with both hands, she swung it with all her might connecting with the back of his head. When he fell to the asphalt he dropped his gun. She kicked it away and placed her sneaker-clad foot on his throat. "Don't move or I'll crush your larynx," she ordered.

"Call the police!" she yelled to the man who came from the office.

"I already did. Do you need any help?"

"No. I have it all under control. Don't touch his gun so the police can get his fingerprints from it to prove he was the one who used it."

He gazed at her with awe. "Are you some kind of cop?"

"No. I'm just getting tired of people pushing me around." She added pressure as the man tried to move around. "Be still and you'll get to live."

A police cruiser with lights flashing and sirens blaring pulled in and parked behind the Buick. As one of the cops came up to her, she took her foot away from the man's throat. "He tried to carjack me," she explained. "His gun lies over there. None of us touched it."

He pulled the man's hands behind his back and cuffed him. "I'm going to put you in the back seat and then we'll have us a little conversation. Roge, take over here and get statements from this young lady and anyone else that witnessed what happened."

The younger cop came up to Dana with a tablet to write information on. He looked familiar but Dana couldn't remember why. She hated it when she couldn't draw out her memories. She was a little rattled by the attempted car-jacking and didn't pay attention to which ID she took out. She handed him the Florida ID for Antonia Blum.

"Toni?"

She gave him a blank stare.

"It's me. Rob. Your brother."

"You're a cop? Oh, Robbie! I thought I'd never see you again." She threw her arms around his middle and held on while she wept.

The other cop came over and said, "I hope you know this lady."

"She's my sister. I'm off this case, Greg." As he brushed her hair back the wig came off. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it's a wig. Why?"

"They shaved my head when I had brain surgery. It hasn't grown out yet. Robbie, we need to talk. Do you know of a out-of-the-way restaurant where we can talk privately?"

"Sure. Greg and I haven't had lunch yet. Our backup can transport the carjacker to the station."

An older cop came up beside the cruiser to haul the suspect out of the seat. "Why Jason, I didn't expect to see you again. When did you get out?"

"I have the right to remain silent. I want a lawyer."

"I'll give you a lift to the station and get it all set up."

"Roge and I are going for lunch," Greg said. "See you back at the station later."

Roger aka Robbie drove the Buick followed by Greg in the cruiser. The restaurant would never make it into a tourist destination guide but it was adequate.

They settled in a booth near the front windows. Toni and Greg on one side; Roger on the other. The waitress brought their coffee while they waited for the rest.

"You need to explain what you're doing here and using your real name," Roge told his sister. "We aren't supposed to see each other or try to find each other."

"I didn't know you're a San Diego cop. I'm just passing through. I'm on the run from some really desperate men who are trying to abduct me. I'm running from the feds, too. Please don't turn me in. They want to put me back in the witness protection program. It didn't work the first time and I'm not giving them another chance. I like living."

"You two are in the witness protection program?" Greg asked.

Roge eyed him. "Yes, but don't tell anyone. Not even your wife." He turned his attention back to Toni. "Tell me about it all."

The waitress brought their food and as they ate, Toni told them all that had happened from the time she arrived in Little Rock. At least what she could remember. "Drumheller's a dirty agent. He helped kidnap me." She left out the part about Drew and the fact that she was pregnant with his baby.

"Stay here, Toni. I'll protect you."

"Roge, you don't understand. These men kill anyone who gets in their way. They killed two cops in New York. I can't risk it. I'm going to disappear under the radar until they are no longer a danger. Agent Foster told me that the FBI thinks they left the country. But that doesn't mean they won't be back."

"Who are these dangerous men?" Greg asked.

"Lewis Drumheller, Jack Curtis and Giles Pendrift."

Greg cursed. "You keep dangerous company for sure."

"I'm just trying to stay a step ahead of them. If I need your help, I'll give you a call. What's your cell phone number?" She wrote down both men's cell phone numbers. "I don't plan on staying in San Diego. I'd appreciate it if you can give me directions to Interstate five north. I want to be in L.A. before dark."

# Chapter 25

Before getting on the interstate, Dana stopped at a convenience store to use the ATM to withdraw another three hundred dollars. Then she bought a money order for the last one hundred dollars she owed Drew. She felt better knowing that debt was paid. As far as she could remember she'd never stolen anything before in her life. In L.A. she got a room at a hotel near the train station. Her ticket for Seattle would be waiting for her there. As far as anyone could tell, Dana Terrell was in California. That was what she wanted them to think. She just hoped the feds wouldn't contact her brother. She would be boarding the train early the next morning.

As soon as she was aboard, she went to her compartment and lay down on the bunk. She was exhausted. But sleep wouldn't come. Drew wouldn't let her alone. She went over in her mind all the reasons she wasn't going to contact him and tell him he was going to be a father. Her strongest reason was that he'd told her he didn't want to marry and have children. "The world isn't a fit place to raise children," he'd said.

She'd argued that if everyone felt that way the human race would become extinct. "Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea," he'd countered. She guessed he had seen too much of the darker side of humanity.

At nine o'clock she got up and combed out her wig and put on her oversized sunglasses before going to the dining car for breakfast. Even though she felt nauseated, she was hungry. She wondered if she could get something as simple as applesauce, toast and tea on the train.

She sat at the last table in the dining car with her back to the wall. She could see the whole car except the door which was just to her right. The waiter came to take her order and she found out she could get applesauce, toast and tea. "I feel a little queasy this morning. Motion sickness," she explained.

"We have medicine for that," he offered.

"So do I. It helps but it makes me sleepy. Not that I'd miss much as foggy as it is this morning." She sat looking around at the other travelers while she waited.

At the table next to hers an elderly couple and a middle-aged couple chatted away like a foursome of magpies. The elderly lady caught her eye and waved. Dana smiled and waved back. She'd just begun eating her applesauce and toast when a man sat down across from her. And he was a hunk. He reminded her of Drew except his hair and eyes were brown. On his left ring finger was a heavy gold ring with a square cut diamond. A playboy or a con man, she thought.

He smiled at her and waved to the waiter. "A pretty lady like you shouldn't be dining alone," he remarked. "Why the dark glasses?"

"Bright light hurts my eye," she replied.

He glanced out the window. "It's foggy."

She popped a piece of toast in her mouth and pointed to the florescent lights overhead.

"I thought maybe you're traveling incognito," he said with a wink.

She ignored him and continued eating. When her applesauce and toast was all she poured tea from the pot in front of her into a pretty flowered cup and added two sugar cubes.

The waiter brought his coffee and bacon and eggs with a toasted English muffin. "My name is Trey Wilkins," he said.

When she didn't reply he asked, "Do you have a name?"

The waiter brought the check and she scribbled A. Blum on it. She stood up and said softly, "Sir, I have not sought your attention nor do I want it." She turned and went back to her compartment.

After lunch, Dana sat in the lounge car with her crocheting. She'd begun a lace scarf while she recuperated in Arizona. In a fine cream colored crochet thread, it was a simple design of chain stitches attached to the previous row by a single crochet stitch.

Wilkins spotted her as soon as he entered the car and he made straight for her. "Would you like a drink?"

Dana barely looked at him. "I have one." She indicated the bottle of water on the narrow table between two seats.

He leaned forward and captured her hand. "Whoa! They weren't there this morning." He spoke about her mother's engagement and wedding rings.

"I thought they might give you the hint that I'm not available."

He walked away to the bar but came back with a glass holding bourbon. Sitting down opposite her, he asked, "Why weren't you wearing your rings earlier?"

"That, sir, is none of your business. Please leave me alone. I must count stitches."

When he continued to question her about her marital status, she gathered up her needlework and retreated to her compartment where she summoned the porter. "Is it possible for me to have my dinner in my room? That man just will not leave me alone."

"What man?"

"He said his name is Trey Wilkins."

"I'll have someone in security speak to him. And yes, you can have your dinner in your compartment but you must order it ahead of time. I'll bring you a menu."

"Thank you. I am going to try to rest."

When a knock sounded on the door, she thought it was the porter so she opened the door. There stood Wilkins. She tried to shove the door closed but he blocked her and he was much stronger than she was. "Why did you report me to security?" he demanded.

"Because I don't wish to be bothered by you," she shot back.

He held out his hand. "Truce? Can we just be friends?"

"I don't know if you're a playboy or a con man but I have no time for either. I'm...not well," she faltered. She wasn't wearing her wig and the scar was plainly visible.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize... Was it cancer?"

"No. Hematoma. I fell and hit my head on a rock." She couldn't stop the tears.

He stepped inside the compartment and pulled her into his arms. "I'm so sorry. I won't make any more passes. I'm not a playboy or a con man. I'm a consultant for a security firm. I thought a little flirtation wouldn't hurt. I just want a little company. Can we just be friends?"

She stepped back. "Friends. One step over the line and you're done. Now get out of here so I can rest. My nerves are easily upset since my surgery."

"As you wish, madam. By the way, what is your first name?"

"Antonia."

"May I call you Toni?"

"I'll think about it." She pushed him toward the door.

When the porter brought the menu she told him she would be going to the dining car after all. "Mr. Wilkins and I agreed on a truce. He won't hit on me. I will be friendly as long as it is nothing personal."

It had been a long time since Dana had dressed for dinner. She brought out the red dress Sunny had given her. After carefully combing her wig, she put it on and pulled the hair back from her face fastening it with ruby studded combs of white gold. She fastened a ruby pendant around her neck and put teardrop earrings in her ears. All the jewelry had been her mother's. Before she opened the door she put on her oversize sunglasses.

It surprised her to find the dining car so full of patrons but she managed to sit at the same place she had that morning. The same two couples were at the next table chattering away.

She'd only been there a few minutes when Trey arrived and asked, "Do you mind if I join you?" She nodded her consent as she tried to catch a waiter's attention.

Another couple came to their table. "Is it all right if we join you? This is the last table where there are two chairs available," the man asked.

"Your call, Toni," Trey said.

"It will be all right as long as you don't ask a lot of personal questions."

"You got something to hide?" the man asked as he seated the woman directly across from Dana. She had copper hair and makeup so thick you could scrape it off. Dana guessed she was in her late thirties or early forties. With all that makeup it was hard to tell.

The man sat on Dana's right. "Bruce Witlack's the name." He held his hand out to Dana but she ignored him so he reached across to shake Trey's hand. "This is my fiancee, Regina Townsend." He was in his late fifties or early sixties with a rim of white hair around his bald pate. "I'm in real estate."

"Trey Wilkins. I'm a consultant for a security firm."

"Where do you work?"

"I've been around the world. We no longer do small businesses or private homes unless they are worth more than a million dollars. It's too time consuming for the amount of profit."

Witlack turned his gaze on Dana. "What's your name?"

"Antonia Blum."

"Do they call you Toni?"

"You may call me Ms. Blum."

Trey didn't miss the fact that Frank Hobart at the adjoining table stood up. "I just forgot about a call I have to make. I'll be right back, dear."

Dana tried to ignore the conversation that flowed around her. Regina couldn't keep her green eyes off Trey despite Witlack's glares in her direction. As soon as she finished eating, Dana left Trey to deal with them and returned to her compartment. She got ready for bed and lay down on her bunk. She quickly fell asleep.

When she awoke, she heard the train whistle and thought that was what disturbed her sleep. But then she heard a tap on the door, followed by, "Toni, let me in."

She turned on the light and got up to go to the door. "Who is it?"

"Trey, let me in, dammit."

She opened the door just a crack. "What do you want?"

He shoved the door open and grabbed her with his arm around her neck, his hand over her mouth. He backed up against the door to close it. "Be still," he commanded as she struggled to free herself. "Listen to this." He dragged her along to the bed and set her down with the tape recorder next to her ear.

She heard a male voice. "Giles? It's Frank...Do you know if Talbot's still offering fifty thou for Antonia Blum..." A chuckle. "I know where she is...On the same train I'm on. Headed for Seattle." Trey took his hand from Dana mouth.

Her face was white when she looked up and whispered, "Giles Pendrift?"

He nodded as the conversation continued. "I can be sure you get her but how will I get my share of the money? I want my half when I deliver the girl to you...Okay. But I won't take less than twenty thou. It's up to you to get her to Belize."

Dana's face was so white Trey thought she'd faint. "I have to get off this train."

"I'll get you off somehow. Get dressed and pack your bags. I have an idea." He turned his back and put his cell phone to his ear. "Come on, Tom, answer...Tom, I need to know who the FBI's senior agent is in Portland, Oregon...Now!..I'm in a tight spot and I need a diversion. Hell, I need more than that. I don't give a damn what time it is in Washington. I've got a problem and not a lot of time to solve it." Trey turned to Dana. "Something to write on."

She dug a note pad and a pen from her purse. He nodded his thanks. "John Natter. I know him. I want his cell phone number...um-hum. Okay. Thanks. Go back to bed."

"Are you FBI?"Dana asked, distrust showing in her eyes.

"ATF. I've got to get you off this train but I can't do it myself." He again held his cell phone to his ear. "John. Trey Wilkins here. I need a very big favor...Within the next half hour. I need to get Antonia Blum off this train. I want you to bring some of your agents to arrest her and take her off...Use your imagination...He wants to know what to charge you with...She says identity theft...He says that's not enough to warrant taking you off...John, add to that withdrawing thousands of dollar using a stolen debit card...He wants to know if that's for real."

Dana shook her head. "But it could look that way. I don't have time to explain it all right now but I'm traveling under three different names trying to stay ahead of the goons that are trying to kidnap me. All three names are legit for me but it's complicated."

The loud speakers blared, "Ladies and gentlemen, we're coming into Portland, Oregon. We'll be here about an hour so a southbound freight can pass. If you want to get off and walk around a bit, be sure to be back when we're ready to leave."

A few minutes later a new message came over the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, please report to the lounge and dining car. We are about to be boarded by the FBI. They're looking for a fugitive who is reported to be on this train."

Trey grinned. "Good old John. Put on your wig and you dark glasses. It will add credence to the fleeing-from-justice idea. Let's report to the lounge. As soon as they announce that you're under arrest, I'm going to back off like I don't know anything about it." He took her elbow and escorted her to the lounge where he sat beside her.

"FBI! Nobody gets off this train till we say so. Where is Antonia Blum?"

"That's her right there," plump sixty something Millie pointed Dana out.

Trey stood up and stammered, "I didn't know her until we were on this train." He stepped away as Agent Natter took Dana's arm and pulled her to her feet. "Antonia Blum, you are under arrest for identity theft and using a stolen ATM card to withdraw thousands of dollars from an account not yours." He pulled her arms back and put the cuffs on her wrists.

"What about my luggage?" she asked.

"By all means. We'll want that to see what else you may have up your sleeves. You have the right to remain silent." He recited her rights as agents carried out her bags and took them to a waiting black SUV with government plates. A woman agent took Dana's arm and led her from the train.

Trey rubbed his hands across his hair. "Can you believe this? I was actually getting interested in her. She's a criminal."

"I knew there was a reason she was hiding behind those dark glasses," Mille huffed. "Light hurt her eyes my foot. She was afraid someone might recognize her."

# Chapter 26

They took her to a bus stop where Dana bought a ticket to Boise, Idaho. "The bus leaves at 6 a.m.," she was told.

"Is it all right if I crash here for the night? I have nowhere else to go." She received a disinterested nod as the man went back to the crossword puzzle he was working.

Walking to where Janelle was sitting on a settee, Dana dropped her purse beside the agent who was already reading a newspaper someone had left behind. "I have to get something to drink." Dana took her wallet from her purse and headed for the vending machines along the wall to their right.

Agent Janelle White thought Dana's purse sounded heavy when she dropped it on the seat so she reached over and lifted it by its straps. It was heavy. She wondered what Dana was carrying around with her.

Dana came back with two cokes, some candy bars and crackers. She gave Janelle half before she stuffed her wallet back in her purse and sat down to pop open the drink.

"Thank you." Janelle laid the newspaper aside and opened the pack of crackers and took one out. "That's a heavy purse you're carrying around. What's in it?"

"A brick." Dana took a bite of cracker and washed it down with soda.

"A brick?" Janelle echoed. "Why in heaven's name..."

Dana swallowed. "Weapon of self defense. It works. I changed a carjacker's mind in San Diego with it."

Janelle laughed. "I'll bet he was surprised."

Dana shrugged. "I don't have a gun or anything. I have to use my wits to survive. There are some dangerous men out there trying to kidnap me. That's why Trey called in you guys to get me off that train. So he didn't have to blow his cover. I thought he was a con man until he brought that recording to me. That's when he told me he's an ATF agent. He was using me as part of his cover. He bugged a gun dealers compartment. LaRue Talbot is offering a fifty thousand dollar reward for me.

"My testimony put his brother in jail with a death penalty hanging over his head. I believe Talbot wants revenge but he wants to do it himself. I'm sure he's the man that shot my mother but I couldn't identify him other than he's the right size and build as the shooter. I know they want to kidnap me and take me to Belize. I suppose that's where Talbot's hiding."

"Dana, please let me take you to a safe house. We can put you in the witness protection program; give you a new identity."

"Been there, done that. The agent who was my contact helped kidnap me. That's why I have this scar on my head and only half my memory. I can take care of myself. The fewer people who know where I am, the less chance they have of finding me."

Janelle took out her card and wrote her personal cell phone number on it. "If you ever need me just call this number. If I can't come to you I'll send someone else. There are FBI offices across the country. If they can't help you they'll get local police to do it. We do work with other law enforcement."

"I know that. I already have Agent Foster's card. He's in Florida. I have Chuck Davidison's number as well as his wife Iris'. She's a profiler."

"I know her."

"I have the number for Lieutenant Ward. He's NYPD. There's Sergeant Orren's of Billings and Sergeant Renner in Boston."

"You sure get around. I still think you need to trust the FBI."

"I already know what I'm going to do," Dana insisted.

"You should at least try to get some sleep," Janelle urged. "I can move so you can lie down."

"I wouldn't sleep anyway. I'll sleep on the bus." Dana would doze off from time to time but she generally stayed awake. While Janelle went to the ladies room, she called the airport in Boise to book a flight to Spokane giving her credit card number to pay for it.

When a bus pulled in at five thirty, she stood up and stretched, noting that the number of people in the waiting room had increased over the past hour. She made a last trip to the rest room before the loudspeaker announced that the bus to Boise was now being boarded.

Janelle helped her with her bags. She had the three larger ones stowed in the compartment under the bus, taking her shoulder bag and her purse along on board. She'd already stuffed candy bars, crackers and two sodas in her carry-on bag.

As soon as she disembarked in Boise, she took a taxi to the airport. Her flight was scheduled for five o'clock so she had an hour and a half to wait.

Dana didn't breathe easy until the plane was in the air. She got up to go to the restroom so she could get an idea about the other passengers. None of them seemed a threat to her so she put her seat back and went to sleep. It was 8:48 p.m. when the plane touched down in Spokane.

As she tried to get her bags from the luggage carousel, the biggest man she ever saw stepped up beside her and grabbed an army green duffel bag. He looked down at her as she seized hold of her smallest bag but missed the other two.

"Just tell me which ones are yours," he told her. She pointed and he pulled them off. "Now how's a little lady like you going to handle three bags plus what you already have on your shoulder?" He slung his duffel bag on his shoulder and reached down to pick up the wheeled ones. "Is there someone meeting you?"

"Those have wheels," she told him.

He was at least six, six and more than three hundred pounds with iron gray hair and a goatee. He grinned down at her. "Honey, if I'd use those I'd have to bend over and it'd put a kink in my back." He headed for the exit. "Now, back to the question; is someone meeting you?"

"No. I'll get a cab." But there were no cabs available.

"Don't worry. My wife's picking me up. Here she comes now." He indicated a big blue SUV that pulled up to the curb. "We'll take you home." He walked over and leaned down to the window. When his wife lowered it, he said, "Pop the tailgate."

He stowed her bags inside along with his own. His wife came around and he introduced her to Dana. "This is Martha. I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't throw it." She reached out to take Martha's hand. "I'm Dana Terrell."

"The artist? I'm glad to meet you. I have one of your paintings on my office wall. You live next door to one of my friends. Cass and I have been friends since kindergarten."

"I didn't realize I was so well known." Dana looked up at the man.

Somehow his clothes didn't fit in with the high-end SUV. He wore a gray hooded sweatshirt over a red tee shirt and sloppy, faded jeans. "Do you want me to drive?" he asked his wife.

"No. You'll push the seat back. Besides, I know where Dana lives."

He shrugged. "Whatever." He opened the back door behind the passenger's seat and gave Dana a hand up. Martha was already behind the wheel.

Snow sifted from the lowering clouds. The city lights reflected from the clouds giving an artificial daylight when it should be dark outside. The driveway had been cleared at one time during the winter but still had about six inches of snow on it.

"Go unlock the door," the man told Dana after he gave her shoulder bag to her. He hauled the rest of her bags from the SUV and followed along after her.

At the door, she asked him to hold her flashlight as she found her keys. "Do I owe you anything for bringing me home?"

"Lord, no. I'm just doing what God expects us to do. Have a good night." He waited to set her bags inside and then went back to the Navigator.

Dana closed the door and locked it. Leaning back against it, she slowly slid down to sit on the floor with her knees up. She bowed her head on her knees and wept as a mixture of emotions surged through her: relief, exhaustion, despair, a sense of loss. She would never see Drew again and she was carrying his child.

****

Drew sat at his desk doing some hated paperwork when an email came up on his computer screen: Drew, come to the lab. Stacy.

Drew walked up behind the CSI. "What do you have for me, Stace?"

Stacy sat before a computer. "Remember that bit of Tyvek I found on the door latch at the Morrison murder scene? I just got an e-mail from one of the hazmat suit suppliers. He was reading an old newspaper he found when he was cleaning up the lunch room. It had that article about Drumheller being arrested for breaking into your apartment. It jogged his memory and he went back and pulled out the receipt for a suit sold to the FBI and guess who signed it."

"Drumheller." Drew looked at the copy of the signed receipt on Stacy's screen. "Unfortunately, it's not illegal to buy a hazmat suit. Its circumstantial evidence. We can't even prove that little bitty piece we have is from the same suit."

Stacy grinned up at him. "It's a step in the right direction."

"I need to be able to put him in that warehouse with the gun in his hand." He laid a hand on Stacy's shoulder. "We just keep looking until the pieces fall into place. Have you got anything on that mugging?"

"Not yet. I was looking into that when that email came in."

Drew's cell rang and he took it out. "Talk to me, Terri."

"I think we may have found that blue van in the Morrison case. Meet me at Martinelli's Restoration and Sales. They have a blue van in their lot that they never bought. It's parked way back along the fence where an old ice cream truck blocked it from view. They took the truck in to restore it and discovered the van."

Drew was already headed for the parking garage. "I'll be there as quick as traffic will allow."

When he arrived at the scene, he drove his Jeep back an unpaved access road that led to the lot where vehicles to be restored were parked. A squad car was already sitting in front of a blue van. Drew grabbed gloves and an evidence bag from the kit he kept in his vehicle. Pulling his gloves on as he walked, he strode up to the two cops and a worker.

"We didn't even know it was here until we pulled that old ice cream truck out this morning," the worker explained.

"Did you get the VIN to find out if it was stolen?" Drew asked as he approached.

"I'm doing that now," said Sgt. Walter Nelson. He wrote down the number and went back to the patrol car.

"The keys are in it," the worker said. "We never leave the keys in a vehicle."

"Terri, check the front. I'll look the back over." Drew went around to slide the side door open while Terri pulled on gloves before sliding behind the wheel to look around. She slid over and opened the glove compartment. "Tape recorder in here." She held it up for Drew to see.

"Hell, that looks like mine. Is there a tape in it?"

"Nope."

"Bag it." Drew looked down at a brownish spot on the carpeted interior of the van. "That might be blood or brain matter. Did you call CSI?"

"Not yet," she replied. "Unless Walt does it now."

"Well, Well! Lookee what I found." Between his thumb and index finger he dangled a rubber glove. "It was under the seat." He dropped the glove in the evidence bag he had. "Maybe Lew's getting a little sloppy about leaving evidence behind. I'm going back to the lab to see if I can get a finger print from the inside of this glove. Stay here and secure the scene until CSI gets here."

As Drew was walking to his Gran Cherokee Walt stopped him. "I didn't get any hits on the VIN in New York State but I told them to check out neighboring states."

"Good. Thanks for calling me."

"Thank Terri. She knew about the van. I just came along for the ride. Normally I'd be out with a rookie but she has the day off."

Drew grinned. "Do they give rookies time off now? Things have changed since I started here."

"You weren't a rookie. You already had a couple of years under your belt before you migrated north. I called for CSI." Walt strolled back to where Terri waited for the CSI team.

Alicia Cooper was in the lab when Drew arrived with the glove. "Just the person I want to see. I need some DNA done ASAP." He donned clean gloves and carefully removed the glove from the evidence bag. "I need scissors."

When she handed them to him, he snipped off the thumb. "I'm going to try to get a thumb-print from inside it." He carefully cut it open for it to lay flat on the worktable before dusting it. "Nice looking print. Now we'll just see what the computer says about it."

"The glove has GSR on it," Alicia said.

He looked over and grinned. When he looked back the computer showed Positive Match. "Just what I thought. Drumheller. He killed Morrison."

"Do you still need the DNA?"

"Yup. All the evidence I can get." He headed for Matt's office. The assistant D.A. sat in one of the green leather chairs. "Howdy, Mike," Drew said. "I'm glad you're here. I just got the evidence to prove Drumheller killed Morrison."

"I'll get a warrant for his arrest for all the good it'll do. Even the FBI can't find him."

"Come over after work. I'll throw some steaks on the grill and I have beer. We'll have a little celebration over our success," Drew said.

"Does that include me?" Matt asked.

"Sure."

"What about me?" Hank asked from the doorway. "What are we celebrating?"

"I got the goods on Drumheller. We found that blue van and Drumheller got sloppy. He left a glove behind. I just lifted a thumbprint from inside the thumb and it's a match. Alicia's working on the DNA."

Hank gave him a thumbs up. "What time?"

Drew considered it a few seconds. "Six, six thirty. I'll put the steaks to marinate as soon as I get home."

As soon as Drew arrived home he took four steaks from the freezer and put them in the microwave to thaw while he showered. He whistled while he pulled on a blue muscle shirt and cut offs. Putting the steaks in a baking dish, he poured a can of beer over them to let them marinate while he turned on the gas grill to heat the lava rocks. He tidied up the balcony and pushed the treadmill out of the way so it didn't block the French doors.

When the doorbell rang he opened the door to let Hank inside. "Matt's bringing the potato salad and Mike's bringing the cole slaw."

Drew went back to the kitchen to drain the beer from the steaks and pat them dry before applying a steak rub of his own creation.

"Grab yourself a beer and make yourself at home," he told Hank. "I'll be right back in as soon as I put these babies on the grill."

"I want mine chased through a warm kitchen," Hank said.

"I know how you like yours," Drew shot back. "Raw! I at least like mine done on the outside."

Matt and Mike showed up together with their contributions.

"Just set it on the table on the balcony," Drew instructed. "I'll get a couple serving spoons. The beer's in the fridge. How do you like your steaks?"

"Medium rare," Matt replied. "Me, too," Mike confirmed. They each took a beer from the fridge and went to the balcony to sit at the table and await their steaks. Drew put more beer in an ice chest and carried it to the balcony.

"Now that we got the goods on Drumheller no one knows where he is," Mike complained. "The last I talked to Chuck about it, he said the FBI thinks he's in the Caribbean."

"Dana said she heard them talking about Belize. That would figure in with that scenario," Drew informed them. "She said when they knew she was awake they clammed up."

"Ain't my steak about done?" Hank asked. "If you let it on much longer, you'll ruin it."

"Go answer the door and quit whining," Drew ordered with a grin.

"You'll get 'whining'." Hank shot back as he unfolded his long frame from his chair and strode to the door. "Come on in, Chuck. Join the party. Drew'll have to throw another steak on the grill. An' I get that'un. He's already had mine on too long. When I say rare, I mean rare."

"I hear you talking." Drew raised his hand in greeting as he went to take another steak from the freezer.

Chuck shook hands all around. "What's this to celebrate?"

"I finally got rock solid evidence that Drumheller killed Wesley Morrison and Charley Mitchell."

"A lot of good that will do. He left the country and we don't know where he is."

"Try Belize." Drew flopped a steak on a plate and gave it to Matt. He pointed to Hank. "You're going to wait till last, Tex. Grab yourself a cold beer, Chuck." He motioned to the ice chest full of Bud cans.

When the steaks were all served and they each had a beer, Drew brought a chair from the dining room for himself.

"I just got back from Washington," Chuck said as he sliced his steak knife through the sirloin. "Met an old friend of mine there. John Natter. He heads the Agency in Portland, Oregon. He had an interesting story to tell me. It seems this ATF agent wanted him to take a young lady off a train. To make like he was arresting her. It seems that LaRue Talbot has a fifty thousand dollar price on her head."

"Dana," Drew whispered.

"Right first guess. It seems that ATF agent was undercover following a gun dealer who was in touch with Giles Pendrift. When Hobart heard Antonia Blum say her name he went to his compartment to call Pendrift. He planned to sell her to Pendrift along with the guns. But it didn't work out that way.

"John and his crew got her off the train and took her to a bus stop. All he could tell me was she took an eastbound bus. Eastbound from Portland would probably take her to Boise, Idaho. There has been no confirmation that she got off the bus in Idaho or which name she was using. We all know she's been hopscotching across the country using three different names. Antonia Blum, Jillian Marks and Dana Terrell."

They sat around the table talking until the food and beer were all. "You won't be able to drive home," Drew said as Hank took the last beer, his third, from the cooler.

"I ain't anywhere near drunk. If you think I'm under the influence, try to hit me once." He returned to his seat between Matt and Chuck and took a swig from the can.

Matt balled his fist and tried to punch Hank on the shoulder but he found Hank's hand wrapped around his wrist.

Hank grinned. "How're my reflexes, Matt?"

"You needn't crush my bones." He flexed his fingers when Hank let go. "Mike, you ready to go? I'm tired. It's been a busy day." He stood up and pointed a finger at Drew. "I want a report on my desk before noon tomorrow."

"You'll find it on the computer when you get in tomorrow morning."

Before Hank left Drew put him through the drunk driving tests to be sure he was in full control of his faculties. "You satisfied now?" Hank asked after walking the line between two boards of the hardwood flooring in the living room.

"Get on out of here," Drew told him and went to clear the table and clean up the remains of the dinner. "You planning on staying the night?" He asked when Chuck helped.

"No. I want to talk to you without the others present. About Dana and Drumheller. I didn't say that right. I want to talk about them separately not together."

He took down two glasses as Drew filled the dishwasher. "Looks like you've been hitting the Jack Daniel's pretty hard lately."

Drew started the dishwasher and sat down at the counter. "What about Drumheller and Dana?"

"About Belize. Where'd you come up with that idea?"

"Dana said she heard them talking when she was kidnapped. They didn't know she was awake. If Talbot put a price on her head, he might want to trade her for his brother."

"Or he might want revenge. He might want to kill her himself instead of having someone do it for him." Chuck took a swallow of the whiskey and let it trickle down his throat. "The way I figure it, she may be coming back to you, going to that Megan Winter in Montana or she may be just running for her life."

Drew frowned thoughtfully. "Or she may be going home. She'll need money. That's where her business is. I'm sure she has friends there. And that would be the place they'd least likely look for her. Think about it." Drew grabbed his cell phone from the counter where it was plugged into the charger. He opened it and scrolled down to the number he wanted.

"Orren." said a male voice.

"Bill? It's Drew. Do you have the number for that woman who lives next Dana in Spokane? I'm thinking that maybe Dana went home."

"Just a minute while I look it up. I'm on a beach in the Bahamas."

"Sorry to interrupt your vacation."

"That's okay. I know how much you want to find her. You got a pen and paper?"

As soon as he disconnected from Orren, Drew punched in the number Orren gave him. He got a recording saying, "The number you have called has been disconnected."

"Shit!" Drew spit out. "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

"What?"

"The number has been disconnected."

"A lot of people are going to cell phones. It's one less bill they have each month and the numbers are unlisted." Chuck stood up and laid a hand on Drew's shoulder. "I better get going or you'll be putting me through that drunk driving scenario."

Drew slowly sipped the rest of his whiskey as he thought about Dana. He even considered going to Spokane in person to find out if his idea was a reality. He was restless so he decided to run on the treadmill until he was so tired he couldn't stand. He pulled off his shirt and cutoffs and moved the treadmill back in place so he could look out over the city while he ran. It was nearly 10:30 p.m. when he went to shower. His legs ached and he was sure they'd be sore tomorrow.

Later as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he thought about what he and Chuck had discussed about where Dana might be. "She went home," he whispered.

# Chapter 27

"Come in, Cass," Dana said as her neighbor stood in the doorway to the back porch. The porch was screened in so Dana let the door stand open."I knew you'd be here if I didn't come over. What time does Nate get out of school?"

"Around noon."

"That's good." Dana poured coffee in the mug she set before Cass and refilled her own.

"You sure look spiffy today." Cass reached for the small pitcher of milk Dana set on the table.

"This is my latest creation." She twirled around showing Cass the whole orange dress. "And it's sure a versatile design. It can be used for anyone from one to one hundred. Just a minute. I'll show you the baby dress I made."

"When are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you're pregnant. I thought we're best friends."

Dana giggled. "It's not that it's something I could hide." She smoothed the fabric that fell in pleats from the V-necked yoke. "This is my Citrus Collection. Obviously I'm wearing the orange." She went to her workroom and returned with a tiny yellow dress. "This is the lemon. I made it last night after I found out the baby's a girl."

"That's a beautiful dress. Does this baby have a father?"

"Of course. Lieutenant Andrew Jackson Ward. Better known as Drew. He's an NYPD homicide detective."

"What does he think about having a daughter?"

"I haven't told him."

"Dana, you must tell him! He has a right to know he's going to be a father."

"He told me he didn't love me. I was a convenience in his bed so he didn't have to go out looking for a woman. He told me no woman would ever tie him down. His ex really did him dirty. It wasn't enough she cheated on him with his cousin, they tried to set him up as a dirty cop on the take. It was good that some of his police friends believed in him and kept the investigation open. While he was in jail, his father disinherited him. Then his father died before Drew was cleared so the will was never changed. To him a woman is only good for one thing and it's not in the kitchen. He knows how to cook.

"Furthermore, he said he never wants children. He said the world isn't a fit place to raise kids."

"I still think you need to tell him. He has a right to know. What are you going to tell your daughter when she asks why she doesn't have a father like other kids?"

"The truth." Dana stood up. "Come with me. I want to show you something. I started it yesterday but it's far from being finished."

Dana's workroom was just off the kitchen. An easel sat by a window with a canvas showing the unfinished portrait of a man. "Behold!" Dana indicated the portrait. "Lieutenant Drew Ward."

"Is he a hunk or what?" Cass' face showed surprise.

"He's a hunk and a half. I've seen him naked. But he doesn't want me. If I would tell him I'm pregnant I'm sure he'd do 'the right thing' but I don't want him on those terms. What kind of a marriage would it be if he had a roving eye? He left me alone in his apartment while he went to Nashville. I was there alone with no money. I had to do the best I could. He never called me once to let me know how long he'd be gone." Dana had tears in her eyes when she finished telling Cass about Drew.

Cass led Dana to the kitchen where Cass poured more coffee and sat down around the corner from Dana who sat running her finger around the rim of the cup. "Cass, have you ever had a dream that left you with a feeling of foreboding? Like something really bad was going to happen."

"Just before my husband was killed in that scaffolding collapse at work. Why?"

"That's how I feel now. I can't remember the whole dream; just bits and pieces. Oh, Cass! I'm afraid something bad is going to happen."

"Do you want me to stay with you this weekend?"

"No. You deserve a vacation with your family. I just want to tell you something." Dana got up to take the African violet from the window sill above the sink. "I raised this from that one leaf you gave me. Look how it's blooming. You know how much it means to me. If you ever come over and find this smashed on the floor you will know I have been kidnapped again. I want you to call this number and tell Drew about it. He will tell you what to do."

"I'm staying home this weekend," Cass asserted.

"You are not. You were home this first time I was kidnapped. You never heard them. They're sneaky. And they don't care about anybody else. I'm worth fifty thousand dollars if they deliver me alive to LaRue Talbot in Belize. They would shoot you without compunction.

"It may be nothing but the residue from a bad dream. I've had those kind of dreams before. I want you to go have fun with your grandchildren."

"All right. But I'm going to call you to find out how you're doing."

Dana pushed a folded slip of paper across to Cass. "These are Drew's cell phone number and home phone number. Put it where you won't lose it."

"It will go right in my purse as soon as I get home. I can spend the trip to Seattle committing them to memory. I have to go, sweetie, but I'll be back before we leave. I'll worry about you the whole time we're gone."

"I should have waited until you get back to tell you all this stuff."

"No. I'm glad you told me now. You don't have anyone else to be care about you. I love you the same as my own daughters. Maybe we should take you with us."

"No. Please don't even consider it. I might be seen by the wrong people and put you all at risk. I told you that people I care about keep dying." Dana choked up. "I don't want anything to happen to you or your family because of me."

"If that's the way you want it. I understand but I'll still worry about you. I'll call to make sure everything's okay. I've got to go finish packing before Nate gets home. He'll come in like a little tornado. He is so excited about school being over for the summer and about going to Seattle to see Aunt Betsy."

After Cass left Dana went upstairs to take off the orange dress and don jeans and a smock so she could paint. Her belly was too big to zip the jeans but that didn't matter when she was alone.

She'd just finished applying a light brown tint to the skin of the man in the portrait when Nate came tearing in, his green eyes alight. "I passed! I passed! I'm gonna be in second grade next year! See my report card." He shoved the paper into her hands.

"Well, congratulations Mr. Nathan Joraski. You have all good grades, too."

Nate looked up with a wide grin. "We're goin' to Seattle today."

"I know that. I hope you have a fun time."

"Gram said I can go on the Ferris wheel. It's a great big wheel with seats on it. It goes around and around." Nate began spinning around and around until he got dizzy and fell to the floor. He lay there with his arms and legs spread. "I'm dead."

"I think I hear your mom calling you for lunch." Dana went back to her painting until she realized she, too, was hungry. She went to the kitchen to find something. In the fridge she found a slice of turkey ham left from last night's supper. Putting it between two slices of wheat bread she placed it on a small plate and set it on the table. A glass of ice tea finished her simple meal. It would only be a matter of time till she was hungry again. Since she stopped her bouts of morning sickness she was always hungry. The developing baby needed sustenance.

Cass came over about four o'clock to tell her that they would be leaving. "I still think you should go along. There are nine of us. Ten if we count you. Who can buck those odds?"

"Five of those are small children. I don't want them hurt because of me. The men who are trying to abduct me are dangerous. If anyone comes around I'll call 911. I have my gun and I'll keep the doors locked."

"I just had Chico out so you shouldn't need to let him out again until just before dark. I'll call." Cass hugged her and they went out to the front porch. Dana stood waving until their cars were out of sight. She went back inside, closing and locking the front door. She left the back door open for better air circulation. It was a nice day but it was unseasonably warm for Spokane in the middle June.

After a snack she went back to painting. She had trouble getting Drew's skin tone right. She blended the lighter hues with the darker to highlight the side that the light came from. She closed her eyes to conger up his image. "Oh, Drew," she whispered. "Why can't we be together?" Maybe Cass was right. She should tell him about the baby. She thought about the pros and cons of that. Drew did have the right to know he was going to be a father. She just didn't know how to tell him. Would he believe her? She thought of how he'd reacted when he thought she'd had sex with Drumheller.

Oh, but she hated Drumheller! She hoped she'd never see him again. She wondered if Drew would marry her because he wanted to do the "right thing." She didn't want him under those circumstances. She didn't see how they could build a solid relationship on the fact that they would be parents. She had no intention of holding her approaching motherhood over his head. It would have to be because he wanted her.

As dusk draped its shroud over the land, she went over to let Chico out. The little dog ran along the fence barking. Dana saw a rabbit run across Cass' driveway and guessed that was what Chico barked at. After he lifted his leg at the apple tree, Dana put him back in the house and went home.

She made sure the door was locked before putting an Alan Jackson CD in the player and went back to her painting. Drew's eyes were going to give her problems. Eyes always gave her trouble. She sang along with "I'm a Little Bluer Than That" thinking that the song fitted her situation. The song ended and before the next one began she heard a footstep behind her and whirled around.

There stood Drumheller. She raised the paintbrush like a weapon and ordered, "Get out of my house!"

Then she saw he wasn't alone. Just inside the door to the kitchen was Pendrift. Curtis stood behind him. "We'll be leaving your house promptly," came Pendrift's British accent. "But you're going with us."

Drumheller took a syringe from his shirt pocket. "You know what this is for."

"Please don't," she pleaded. "My baby...I'll do what you say."

"Put that away, Lew," Pendrift commanded.

"May I get a drink and wash my hands?"

"At the kitchen sink. You aren't going in the bathroom and lock the door." Pendrift and Curtis stood aside to allow her to pass through the door.

She used dishwashing liquid to scrub the paint off her hands. Then she filled a glass with water and drank. "I need to water my African violet." She ran some more water in the glass and deliberately dropped it into the sink where it shattered. "My hands are shaking." she mumbled.

She reached for the plant and took it from the window sill as if she was going to run water in it. "Why do you want to kidnap me?" she asked.

"You're worth a lot of money, lovey," Pendrift said. "Talbot's willing to pay fifty grand for you. But he wants you alive and healthy."

"He killed my mother."

Drumheller came from the work room to stand behind her. "I see you're painting a picture of Lieutenant Lover Boy. Is he the father of your brat?"

She turned around. "That's none of you business." She brought the violet up and threw it against the side of his head hard enough that he went down on his knees. Shards of the pot, soil, leaves and flowers scattered on the floor. She tried to run around the table but was stopped by Pendrift.

"Don't try to run, lovey. I'll knock you down and kick that baby out of your belly."

She stopped short and looked from Pendrift to Drumheller, who was getting back to his feet. He took a couple steps toward her and backhanded her across the face. The blow turned her around and blood spurted from her nose onto the counter.

"That's enough, Lew," Pendrift ordered. "Talbot won't pay for damaged goods."

Dana grabbed two paper towels and held them to her nose. "You got your message across."

"That's good," Pendrift said. "It will go easier on you and us. Give me your hands." He cuffed her hands in front of her. "Jack, go bring the car up to the back door."

Pendrift put her in the back seat. "Move over to the other side so I can get in." He sat down beside her and put shackles around her ankles. "This time you aren't going to run away." He leaned closer and whispered, "I'll keep Lew away from you if I can."

She looked up but he was looking away. She wondered if he was more than the outlaw she knew him for. Still she didn't dare trust him. She hoped against hope that Cass would find the shattered flowerpot and call Drew. And what could he do when he was on the other side of the country? She would have to rely on her own wits to survive. For the time being she would do as they told her.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Seattle," Pendrift answered. "That's all you need to know. You'd better get some sleep while you can. That's what I'm going to do." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

In Seattle they boarded a private jet and were soon in the air. Curtis went to the small kitchenette and returned with four takeout dinners. He passed out one to each.

They had taken the handcuffs and shackles off Dana before coming aboard. There was no need for chains while they were in the air. She had nowhere to go. She accepted the dinner from Curtis because she was hungry. She hadn't eaten since the peanut butter and jam sandwich she had right after Cass and her family left. She opened the Styrofoam container to find baked chicken breast, mashed potatoes with gravy and creamed peas. A second plastic container contained chocolate pudding. Pendrift brought her a coke from the fridge.

After she ate, she leaned back in her seat and slept. The sun was rising as the plane set down on a San Diego runway. A man in a black SUV with government plates met them. "Where'd you get this car, Shorty," Drumheller asked.

"I stole it from a federal agent that left it parked along the street. Don't worry. I have a different one stashed so we can change. Wipe down anywhere you touch before you get out. I don't have to worry because I ain't got no fingerprints."

When they changed cars, he drove them to a marina. "The yacht's down there toward the end." He pointed it out. "Harvey and Mo are waitin' for you."

Curtis took Dana's arm and hustled her along the pier to the waiting yacht. Southern Pride was painted on the bow. Once they were on board they cast off. Pendrift took Dana below and put the shackles around her ankles, locking the chain to another chain fastened to the built-in bunk. "That ought to keep you safe. Not that you can go anywhere. It's a long way back to shore."

Dana lay on the bunk willing herself not to cry. She could hear the throbbing of the engine as the boat carried her farther from shore; farther from the United States. God, please let Drew come for me. Please.

# Chapter 28

"Is this a private meeting or can anyone join?" Drew stood in Mabel's Diner looking down at Agent Chuck Davidson and Capt. Matt Hallinan on one bench of the booth with Assistant D.A. Mike Spencer on the other side.

Mike scooted over toward the wall. "Sit down, Drew. This isn't anything official."

Matt sat across from Drew. "You look like hell."

"Is that a step above 'death warmed over'?"

"Who said that?" Matt wondered.

"Karen. She's trying to mother me. I told her to ease up a little. I damn near died. One doesn't come back from something like that overnight. My doctor told me I need to gain about twenty-five pounds. Does that satisfy you?"

"You need to lay off the coffee and whiskey and eat more." Chuck put in his two cents worth.

The waitress brought two plates with cheeseburgers and fries. She set one plate in front of Mike; the other in front of Chuck.

"What's this?" Matt asked. "Serving the big boys first?"

"Gotta keep the FBI and the D.A. happy." She looked down at Drew. "You want coffee, right?"

"Among other things. Are you going to take my order now or must I wait until you serve my boss?"

She pulled an order pad from her apron pocket. "What'll it be?"

"Two hot dogs with mustard, ketchup, relish and onions; a side of fries; a large milk and a chocolate milkshake. Bring the coffee first."

"How many hands do you think I have?" She went off to the pass through to the kitchen. A short time later she was back with Matt's chicken sandwich and a glass of milk.

"I have to lay off of so much coffee," Matt explained. "Doc says I'm working on an ulcer." He looked Drew in the eye. "With guys like you and O'Connor working for me it's no wonder."

"We don't want you to be bored," Drew returned.

"Bored! Hell, I hardly have time to think straight."

Drew grinned at him. "Last month we solved two murders in one day."

"A lot of good it does when we don't even know where Drumheller is. Right, Chuck?"

Chuck looked wary. "That's classified."

"Like hell! He's a murderer. He needs to be brought to justice," Drew shot back.

"We're working on it."

"Who's we?"

"A whole alphabet of agencies both here and abroad. That's all I can say. We've put a lot of work into this and we can't have it blown apart before it even gets off the ground."

The waitress came back with Drew's coffee and milk. "I'll bring your hot dogs and milk shake as soon as I can. We're getting busy with the lunch crowd and Nancy won't be in until noon." She headed back to the kitchen but was waylaid by another customer.

Just as Drew took a sip of coffee his cell phone rang. With a sigh, he pulled it out of the belt clip. "Sometimes I want to throw this damn thing against the wall." He flipped it open and frowned. "A Washington area code. Ward here."

"Lieutenant. This is Cass Slater. You don't know me but I'm Dana Terrill's next door neighbor."

Drew hit the speaker button and laid the phone on the table. "I know who you are Ms. Slater. Why are you calling me? Is Dana in trouble?"

"Don't ask questions, Lieutenant. Just listen to what I have to tell you." She explained what Dana had told her on Friday.

"Ms. Slater, please remain calm," Drew said. Maybe he should take his own advice but he had a feeling in his gut that this wasn't going anywhere good.

"Just shut up and listen! I'm trying to explain as best I can. Dana had this African violet that she grew from a single leaf. It meant a lot to her. But she told me if I came over and found it smashed on the floor I should call you. It would mean she'd been kidnapped again."

"You're telling me that Dana's been kidnapped? Oh, God! Call the FBI and local police."

"We got home late last night. Whenever I called from Seattle it went to voice mail. I came over this morning and found that plant smashed on the floor and there's a broken glass in the sink. There's blood on the counter. I just noticed something. There's blood on one of the flowerpot pieces. What am I to do? I love her like my own daughters."

"Call the FBI and the police!" Drew noticed Chuck had his cell phone out speaking quietly."Ms. Slater," Drew continued. "Tell them to get a CSI team out there. And don't touch anything. I'll be there as quick as I can get a plane ticket."

"There's one more thing, Lieutenant. Dana's six months pregnant."

"What?"

"You heard me. You're going to be a father. Whether you like it or not."

Drew groaned as he flipped his phone shut. He took several deep breaths before saying, "I got her pregnant. I've got to find her. Damn! I can't take my guns on a plane."

"You won't need to. Eat your meal. You'll need it." Chuck said. "I'll have a chopper waiting for you to take you to Washington, D.C. There's already an operation in place. If Dana was abducted Friday or Saturday she is no longer in Spokane. You'll join a Task Force made up of agents from ATF, CIA, FBI, MI6 and Interpol. You will be working as a liaison from NYPD."

"You're taking a lot for granted, aren't you, Chuck?" Drew fired back.

"No. You'll do it this way or I will have you detained until the operation is over. The Task Force has put a lot of time into this investigation. I won't allow you to mess it up. You will find Dana quicker by working with us than against us. You already know that LaRue Talbot put a price on Dana's head. He wants her alive. We've got that much going for us.

"Go home and pack a bag. You'll be in the air within the hour. I'll give you the rest of the information on the way to the heliport. I hope you don't have any skeletons in your closet. By the time you get to Washington you should have FBI clearance for this classified mission."

"I know it will do no good to remind you that you have a job," Matt said. "We got along without you for three months. We can do it now." Matt left a tip on the table and went to the cash register to pay his check.

Drew carried his hot dogs to the counter. "Mabel, can you wrap these as takeouts. I have to run."

"Sure, dearie. What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Worse. Just get it ready for me while I pay." After he paid, he grabbed the bag and ran out the door to where his Jeep was parked. It didn't take him long to pack a bag, fill a thermos with coffee and add the hot dogs plus a package of cookies and a box of snack crackers.

In fifteen minutes he was headed to the station to meet Chuck, who was waiting for him. He slid in the passenger seat and buckled up. "You said you'd give me more information."

Chuck nodded as he handed Drew his milkshake he'd left behind at the diner. "You'll meet ATF Agent Trey Wilkins when the chopper lands. He should be there waiting for you. He's the agent that got Dana off the train when Hobart planned to abduct her. He was following Hobart who planned to sell guns to Giles Pendrift. When ATF showed up for the exchange of the guns in Birch Bay, Pendrift took off in the boat. Hobart jumped in at the last minute. They made it across the Canadian border. The mounties found Hobert floating in the Georgia Strait."

"What's that got to do with Dana's disappearance?"

"It places her in the Pacific Northwest. It probably wasn't too difficult for Pendrift to figure out where she got to. Once you meet Agent Wilkins, he'll fill you in on the case on the way to Houston."

"Houston! I want to go to Spokane."

"Dana's not there. The FBI in Seattle found out that a private jet took three men and a woman to San Diego. The pilot had no idea where they went from there."

"Belize."

"That's our guess, too. We know that's where Talbot is. Dana's presence there complicates the whole mission."

****

The yacht took them to a small bay off the Guatemalan coast where they met a seaplane. Soon they were flying over the jungles of Central America. Dana looked down on the sea of green wondering what would happen if the plane went down. What did it matter? She would never see Drew again. She promised God that if he spared her, she would tell Drew about the baby. The baby! She was reason enough not to give up hope.

Soon they were flying over water. The seaplane descended and set down on the water of the Caribbean Sea. A nearby boat raced toward them and pulled close enough for them to climb down directly into it. It was a larger craft than the skiff that took them from the yacht to the plane.

Pendrift climbed down the ladder and called up, "You're next, lovey. Be careful you don't fall. Jack, help her."

When they were all aboard the boat, the plane took off. In the distance Dana could see the coast. Was it the coast of Belize? Where were they taking her? She found out soon enough when the boat pulled alongside a pier. A white SUV waited for them. Again Drumheller sat beside the driver and Pendrift sat beside her in the back.

"I'm goin' to Jose's for a drink," Curtis said. "I'll see you all later."

"You will if you want to collect your cut of the money," Pendrift shot back.

Because they traveled fast, Dana didn't have time to look at their surroundings. She saw red-tiled roofs and white house's. Then shanties made of corrugated tin. Soon there was jungle beside the macadam road. Not long afterward they arrived at a complex with razor wire on top of the white stucco walls of the courtyard.

The driver honked the horn and someone opened the gate to let them in. The driver parked in a spot by a long two-story building. She didn't have much time to check out her surroundings. Pendrift pulled her from the car and held her arm as he led her through a wrought iron gate to an inner courtyard. The main house was built in a U-shape around the courtyard.

Penndrift knocked on a door and someone called, "Come in." After the heat and humidity of the tropical climate, the house felt cool. It wasn't until he spoke that she realized Drumheller had followed them in.

They entered a cool office where LaRue Talbot sat behind the mahogany desk in a black leather swivel chair with a cigar in his teeth. He took the cigar from his mouth. "Welcome to your new home, Miss Blum."

A chill shot through Dana as she recognized the voice of the second man in the Boston house the night her parents were murdered. "You killed my mother," she accused. "You shot her in the back when she tried to run away from you. I saw you do it."

He flicked ashes into a marble ashtray. "A lot of good that will do you. Your testimony sent my brother to prison. You are going to get the same treatment as he. I had a special room built just for you, Miss Blum. That is where you will live until my brother is executed. Then you will die the same death as he does." He pressed a button on an intercom system. "Rosa, please come to my office.

"In the meantime, Giles, I can pay you and Lew. Where's Jack?"

"He went to Jose's for a drink," Drumheller said. "He'll be along soon."

A short, round woman with black hair and reddish brown skin came into the room. She stood without speaking.

"Take Miss Blum to the shower and get her new uniform for her. I will be there when she is done to personally escort her to her room."

The heat and humidity almost knocked Dana down when they stepped out into the courtyard. The house was built with a roofed, screened in porch running around three sides of the courtyard. Rosa took her arm and hurried her along to a door on the other side, mumbling in a language Dana didn't recognize. Rosa was Dana's height but was plump. Her brown face seemed ageless. She could have been fifty; she could have been eighty.

As Dana listened to her mumbling, she realized Rosa was reciting the rosary. Every now and then she would cross herself. Dana wondered if she could make the woman her friend. "Rosa," Dana said softly.

Rosa ignored Dana. She opened a door and ushered Dana into a well appointed bathroom with a glassed-in shower stall. She started the water until she got what she perceived to be the right temperature. Motioning for Dana to remove her clothing, she laid out thick white towels.

Dana was shy about undressing in front of a stranger but Rosa was becoming impatient, giving orders Dana couldn't understand. When Dana was naked, the woman pushed her into the shower and closed the glass door.

After the heat outside and three days without a bath the tepid water felt good on Dana's skin. She shampooed her hair and took an unusually long time to cleanse her body. Rosa knocked on the glass to get her attention. The expression on Rosa's face was enough for Dana to know the woman wanted her to be finished. She turned off the water and reached for a towel.

Rosa handed Dana a gray sleeveless shift that was too big for her but at least it allowed for her bulging abdomen. While Dana pulled it on, Rosa stuffed the clothing Dana had been wearing into a garbage bag.

Rosa turned to the sink. From the medicine cabinet, she brought a new toothbrush and toothpaste. Dana understood she was to brush her teeth. Rosa handed her a bottle of water and indicated the faucet. "No." Dana understood. Don't drink the water that comes from the tap. After she brushed her teeth, her mouth felt wonderfully fresh.

Rosa motioned with her hand that Dana was to follow her and went out the door. Talbot was leaning against the wall in a wide hallway. A tall woman with long brown hair stood beside him.

"Rosa, you can go back to the kitchen now." Rosa went off muttering to herself.

"Miss Blum, I'd like you to meet my sister, Cynthia Rand."

"So you're the little bitch that sent our baby brother to prison. Enjoy your stay here. For as long as it lasts."

"Your brother killed my father. I saw him do it." She stopped short and stared at LaRue. "You shot my mother in the back."

He grinned at her as they walked along a hallway lined with windows opening onto the courtyard. They passed through a doorway to an enclosed hallway with a door at the other end. To the left was a light green steel door with a barred window and an eight-by-twelve-inch slot below it. " Here's your room." Talbot opened the door and pushed her into an eight-by-eight-foot room.

It was all concrete: the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Even the bed, table and bench were of concrete. A stainless steel toilet and sink were mounted on the wall straight across from the door. A four inch foam pad served as a mattress. Folded white bedding lay on the pad. In the corner, up next to the ceiling was a camera.

"You will be monitored twenty-four hours a day."

"Can't I even have a little privacy to use the toilet?"

"Nope. You will get a shower and a clean uniform once a week. You will also get clean sheets and towels once a week. Rosa will pass your food to you through the slot in the door. You will receive two meals a day, morning and evening. It is siesta time so I'll leave you to yourself." He closed the green steel door and she could hear him locking it.

"But I haven't had anything to eat yet today," she protested.

"To bad. You must wait until Rosa cooks the evening meal." Talbot and his sister walked away.

"Oh, God help me!" she prayed. She tried to take stock of her situation but all she could think of was the hopelessness of it. She sat down on the bed and wept.

# Chapter 29

Wilkins was waiting when the chopper touched down. They immediately got into an argument about Drew's right to be there. "I'm going after Dana with or without this task force's help," Drew declared.

They boarded a government jet for Houston. They spent the time in the air discussing Drew's determination to go after Dana and Wilkins objections to it. Drew refused to give ground so Wilkins turned to talking about Drew's undercover experience. By the time they landed in Houston they had come to a tentative agreement.

"You mess up; you're out," Wilkins asserted.

They met in a hotel conference to discuss the mission over cheeseburgers, fries and coffee. Drew was introduced to the other agents: Robin Allen with DEA, Derek Foster with FBI, Andre Vanderlin from Interpol and Augustus Sommerfield from MI6. Muriel Payne from the CIA would join them in Cancun. They didn't welcome Drew with open arms. DEA Agent Allen objected outright. "Why is there a New York cop here?"

"Because the FBI invited him. He has a personal stake in the outcome of this. Miss Terrell is pregnant with his baby."

When the plates were put aside at the far end of the long table, they got down to business. Andre began the meeting with, "As I'm sure you are all aware, we are going after some very dangerous criminals. Miss Terrell's abduction complicates the situation. My role as an Interpol representative is to coordinate this mission with the Belize government. Another Interpol rep is in Belize to help from that end." As he talked Andre gave each participant a folder. "On top you will find a map of Talbot's compound. It's not complicated. Gate and driveway on the south side of the main building, garages at the back. Belize's agents have passed the word that two of those garages have doors that open through the back wall as an escape route.

"On the north side of the compound is a two-story structure that houses the men and servants that work for Talbot. Now I want to touch on some background information. Some of you will already know this. Talbot fled the U.S. after the murders of Edith and Lionel Blum. He was living in the Cayman Islands. His sister also moved to the Caymans where she met and married billionaire Grant Rand. She went with him back to California. A year later he died from a rattlesnake bite while on vacation at Cabo San Lucas. Cynthia inherited his billions and all his property which she sold. She went back to be with her brother and they bought property in Belize and had the compound built. That's when they teamed up with Pendrift. They are into just about everything illegal: drugs, human trafficking, gun running, smuggling and anything else they can think of. On top of what Cynthia inherited, they have built up quite a little nest egg in the Caymans and Switzerland.

"There are a significant number of 'soldiers' in that compound. The number changes in accordance to whatever they are into at any specific time. Last count there were only twelve plus house servants. The house servants have been recruited from the local population. That is how the Belize government got people inside. I do not have the house floor plan yet. Muriel is supposed to have that when we get to Cancun."

"Muriel Payne in the ass," Sommerfield said. "I worked with her on another mission. She has to have it all her way. That mission damn near blew up in our faces."

Andre got up and busied himself hooking his laptop to the big screen TV. "Move your chairs around so you can see." He turned on the laptop and the screen turned blue. Then he brought up an aerial photo of the compound. "This shows all the outside courtyard and the inner courtyard. Trees and shrubbery are clearly defined. So is the razor wire on top of the outside wall. There will be quite a few obstacles to be overcome. Getting Miss Terrell out has to be the first priority."

"To bad we can't get someone inside to help with that," Trey mused.

"We can," Drew said. "I have an idea."

"Save it for later. We can talk about it tomorrow on our way to Cancun." Andre was ready to move on. "The Belize government will furnish us with backup troops. This is their country; their game; their rules. They are willing to give the U.S. Drumheller, Curtis and Talbot; the UK, Pendrift. They want the rest. They want to send a message that criminals can't use Belize as a stopping off point to channel drugs, human beings and weapons through their country.

"In the morning at five o'clock we need to be ready to board a Canadian fishing vessel. That is our cover. We can work out the details on our way to Cancun."

"I wondered how the Canadians would fit in," Sommerfield said.

"They will provide us with cover and a base from which to work. The boat will be anchored offshore from Belize while we 'fish'."

"How long is this going to take?" Drew was impatient to get to Dana and get her out of harm's way.

"A few days. It takes planning to bring something like this together. We don't need a loose cannon so I'd advise that you not take off on your own. It could jeopardize the entire operation," Andre said. "Something just came up on my email." Andre read it. "Lieutenant, will you come read this. It is about Miss Terrell."

Drew hastened to his side. "This is crazy. He's holding her in a jail cell until they execute his brother then he's going to kill her?"

"That's what it says." Andre read the email aloud.

"That gives us some time," Foster ventured. "I can get in touch with headquarters to make absolutely sure Talbot isn't executed before we get her out."

"Good enough," Andre cut in. "Does anyone else have anything that can't wait until we're on board ship?"

No one had. "Then we'll adjourn for tonight. There will be an FBI bus out front at 4:30 a.m. to take us to the boat. Have a good evening."

When he returned to his room, Drew undressed and lay down on the bed. Getting to sleep wasn't easy even though he knew he had to be ready early in the morning. Just knowing that he was on his way to rescue Dana filled him with excitement and dread. "Hang on, sweetheart, I'm coming. Oh, God! Please let me be in time. I have so much to make up to her."

He finally fell asleep thinking that she was carrying his child. His child!

# Chapter 30

Take long deep breaths. Dana fought down the panic that threatened to engulf her. Breathe deep. She couldn't allow herself to go to pieces like she had the day before. She had pounded on the steel door, screaming and crying. Over the intercom up by the camera, she could hear them laughing at her. Talbot even told her she was "very entertaining." She didn't plan to allow them to know how scared she was again.

She thought about Drew. That took her on an emotional roller coaster ride. The baby moved and she laid her hand on her abdomen. If for no other reason she had to survive to give birth to Drew's daughter. She was certain that Cass had told him she was pregnant. Cass had told her in no uncertain terms that she thought Dana should tell Drew about the baby. She had refused. She wanted Drew. She just didn't want him if the baby was his only reason. She wanted him to love her like she loved him.

But now she was unsure if that had been a wise choice. If she had told him, maybe he would have married her. At least he would have been decent about it and pay for his daughter. But Dana didn't need his money. She had the money from the sale of their parents' house, their life insurance and what she earned on her own.

"Senorita," Rosa's voice came through the door.

Dana got up and walked to the door for the tray of food. She had learned after several tries that it was useless to try to talk to Rosa. The woman had closed ears. Dana knew she could understand English. She had understood Talbot when he told her to take Dana for a shower.

She took the tray Rosa pushed through the slot in the door, wondering what Rosa had wrapped in a tortilla that day. This time it was a corn tortilla. She picked it up and bit into it. Meat! Rosa had put meat in with the beans. There was also a banana on the tray and a bowl of thick soup. Probably hot. She got up to get a bottle of water from the case in the corner under the camera. It was lukewarm but it was wet.

She picked up the spoon to eat the soup first. Hot! She took a bite of the tortilla to help put out the fire. She ate the banana last. That was all she would get until breakfast in the morning. How long could she go on like this? As long as it takes. She couldn't give up. Hope was all she had left.

She got up to use the toilet. At least she had come up with a solution that gave her a minimum of privacy. She tied two corners of the flat sheet together leaving an opening large enough for her head to fit through. With the sheet spread out in front of her, she could sit on the toilet without them seeing her bare bottom.

She stayed up to walk around the room. That was the only exercise she got. She could not allow herself to go soft by just lying around wishing the nightmare would end. She had to stay active so when they came for her she would be ready. She was certain someone would come for her. It was that hope that kept her going.

****

After the Canadians and the Task Force introduced themselves, Capt. O'Brien got the ship underway. Marine Capt. Randolph told them where the head was and told them about the cabin sharing. "Mr. Vanderlin will bunk with Lieutenant Presscott. Agent Allen will share my cabin. You men will have to decide who will share which cabin. By the way, please call me Paula. Is there anyone among you who know how to cook? I'm here as a doctor. My culinary skills are minimal."

Drew spoke up. "I can cook."

"Me, too," volunteered DEA Agent Robin Allen.

"Lieutenant Ward will share my cabin," Foster said. "I have some crime scene information to share with him about the abduction of Dana Terrell."

As soon as they were in their cabin, Drew stripped off his shirt, kicked off his shoes and removed his pants. "I'm not used to this heat."

Foster grinned. "I'm from Florida. It doesn't bother me that much."

"I'm from Tennessee originally but I've been in New York for about ten years."

"I know. I've read your full profile. I really don't like your being here but I have orders to include you." He opened his briefcase and tossed Drew a flash drive. "I hope you have a laptop in your briefcase. If you don't you can use mine."

"I have one." Drew opened his briefcase. "What's this?"

"Photos from Dana's house. You may find them interesting."

Placing his laptop on the desk between the two bunks, Drew pulled out the chair and sat down. Foster stood leaning against the desk with his arms folded watching Drew who said nothing as he sorted through the images on his laptop screen. His facial expression became more grim as he went along. He stopped at a picture of blood on a counter top. "Dana's?"

"Yeah. They found mucus mixed in the blood so they think someone gave her a bloody nose. The blood sample they found on the pot shard was Drumheller's. She must have slammed it up against his head or something."

"Good for her. She's a fighter. Cass Slater told me Dana had it planned that if she found that potted plant smashed on the floor she should call me. When she called I told her to call the FBI. I was in New York. I couldn't help her and time was of the essence."

"Yeah, it was. Still is. Because of the timeliness of that call agents were able to find the pilot that flew them to San Diego. It is believed they got on a boat and went to Mexico or Guatemala. From there they took a seaplane to Belize. We have confirmed information of when they arrived in Belize. We have information from the Belize undercover agents and an Aussie who routinely passes information to us. Thanks to him, we know where she's being held and why. We just need to come up with a plan."

"In case something goes wrong, I have an ace up my sleeve." Drew stretched and yawned. "I think I'll grab a nap before it's time to make breakfast."

Drew had the ability to wake up without an alarm clock. He attributed it to his time spent working undercover when sleeping too sound could get a person dead. Foster was sawing logs but the military personnel were up moving around. Seven sailors and marines were in the lounge drinking rum-laced tea.

"Is there coffee?" Drew asked.

"Help yourself," Capt. Randolph with a smile. "I do know how to make coffee."

Capt. O'Brien shot Drew a grin. "I wouldn't call what she makes coffee."

"That bad? Maybe I need a shot of that rum in it." Drew picked up a heavy white mug and held it under the spigot of the two-gallon percolator.

Because of the limited space they had to eat in shifts. The marines and sailors who would relieve the night shift ate first. The remaining military personnel ate next. Paula went to rouse the Task Force members while Drew finished preparing the pancakes and eggs for them.

Two marines came in just as they were finishing. "Lieutenant Prescott told us to do the dishes and police the lounge," Pvt. Joel Price informed them. "It's a beautiful morning."

"I'm going to get some exercise," Drew said. He left the lounge to walk around the boat from bow to stern. It was clear of any obstacles so he began to jog. He tossed his shirt and was still barefoot. After jogging for three rounds he began to run. Trey Wilkins joined him.

"Meeting after lunch this afternoon," Trey informed him.

Robin joined Drew in preparing lunch. "Captain Randolph said I can probably do a better job than she can. She said she isn't much of a cook."

"There's no takeout here. You don't have a choice." He placed frozen chicken drumsticks on a baking sheet and put them in the oven. "I hate instant mashed potatoes but that's all there is. No use in mixing them up yet. Wait until the chicken's done. What kind of vegetables would you like?"

"What kind are there?"

"Let's go down to the storeroom and find out."

They served up baked chicken, instant mashed potatoes, gravy and pork and beans. Each person got an apple. "This coffee's better than this morning's," Lt. Prescott stated. "Paula's coffee could drive a man to drinking...something else."

"Thanks a lot," Paula said. "I told you I can't cook. The marines seem to think that because I'm a woman I should know how to cook. I'm glad there's someone to take over for me." She smiled at Drew.

When the dishes were done they gathered around the table. "Captain O'Brien sends his apologies but he's at the wheel," Lt. Prescott said as he entered the lounge.

"There's coffee and hot water for tea if anyone wants some," Paula said.

"Who made it?" Prescott asked.

"Drew. I know my limitations with coffee but I make a great pot of tea if anyone would prefer it." She poured tea for herself and sat down at one end of the table.

Andre also took tea and seated himself at the other end of the table. "Get your drinks so we can get on with this meeting."

"I think I'll have tea, too," Gus said. "I've had enough coffee for one day."

"I never have too much coffee," Drew said as he carried his mug to the table and sat down at Paula's right.

"Lieutenant, will you please close the doors?" Andre requested.

Drew stood up on one side of the table and Prescott on the other. Drew shrugged. "Two doors, two lieutenants." He went to slide the door on the far side of the room closed and Prescott got the other one.

"This is classified business," Andre reminded them.

"No matter," Prescott asserted. "Every man on this boat is cleared for classified on a need-to-know basis. We'd hardly expect unseasoned men to take on an assignment like this. You can relax. We've got your back."

For more than an hour they poured over the mission and made plans down to the smallest detail. "Drew, tell what this idea of yours is," Foster said.

"Thinking back over it, I don't think it would work very well. However, I think I could become a distraction to them. Drumheller knows me and he won't think twice that I might come for Dana by myself. If I just show up in town, it would make him crazy. He'd love to get me out by myself. What I'd like to know is if he has someone inside the FBI who is sending him information." Drew turned to Foster. "Is that possible?"

"Not only possible but probable. We're monitoring her phone."

"Does she have a name?"

"You don't need to know that."

"That's irrelevant," Trey spoke up. "We need to focus on the business at hand. Let the FBI handle their own problems."

"The same FBI that allowed Drumheller get away?" Drew asked.

"He had help from the outside," Foster shot back. "I had nothing to do with that."

"Enough!" Andre said loudly."Trey's right. Let's get back to the plans we need to work out. Drew, you will accompany me to Belize City. We'll take a plane from Cancun."

"I can't take my guns on a plane."

"It is a private plane furnished by the Belize government. We'll arrive in Cancun tomorrow. After Ms. Payne comes aboard and we meet to finalize our plans, you and I will go ahead to Belize. I have a plan of my own. Though I will not be involved in the actual mission, I'll still act as a liaison between Belize and this task force. Unless anyone has something to add, this meeting is adjourned. Drew, I'd like to speak to you alone."

"Before we adjourn," Paula said, "we need to set up a shower schedule. With eighteen people on board we need it. I have already set the times for the military personnel. Each person will be allowed a half hour. Mr. Vanderlin and Drew first so they can have their chat."

Drew stood up and stretched as far as he could under the low ceiling. "Schedule the others first, I'll take whatever's left."

****

"Rosa, please help me," Dana pleaded as Rosa escorted her to the bathroom for a shower and clean shift.

Rosa pointed to the ceiling where there was a camera that Dana hadn't seen the first time she'd been there. She then pulled Dana along to the shower where she stood blocking the camera's view so Dana could undress and get in the shower. She stayed there until the steam from the shower fogged over the glass. When Dana was through, she handed a towel for her to dry.

"Dress," Rosa said and traded a clean gray shift for the towel. "Come." Rosa said before they left the bathroom. Another woman was in Dana's cell when they returned.

Rosa scolded her in Spanish calling her Manuela. Manuela didn't seem especially perturbed about Rosa's rebuke. She gathered her cleaning supplies and left the room. Rosa followed her locking the door behind them. Dana was again alone except for the camera in the corner.

****

Drew stood beside Gus on the boat's deck as they docked. A shapely blond came striding along the pier right for them.

"Damn!" Gus said. "I forgot how sexy Muriel is. You want to watch out for that one. She'll come onto you like a hurricane in September."

Muriel was dressed in red shorts and a white sleeveless blouse that wasn't buttoned but was tied at her cleavage. It was evident that she wore no bra. "Can I come aboard?" she called.

"Come ahead," Gus answered. He reached down to give her a hand up.

She turned to Drew. "I don't believe we've met."

"Lieutenant Drew Ward, homicide detective for NYPD." He held out his hand and she took it.

"Why is a homicide detective on an operation like this?"

"I'm after a murderer."

"If the FBI lets you have him," Gus said cynically.

"They had him once and let him get away. Now it's my turn. Believe me, he won't get away again."

"That's because you want to put a bullet in his brain," Foster said from the doorway to the lounge.

"Meeting's called to order," Trey called.

Two marines set up a card table and chairs just outside the door and settled down for a game. The side arms they wore were on the side toward the door so they couldn't be seen by anyone on the pier. A similar scene was set on the other side of the lounge.

Since Capt. O'Brien, Lt. Prescott and Paula joined the Task Force meeting, there was no room at the table for Drew and Trey. They stood off to the side with feet apart, arms folded.

Andre started with what was expected from the boat's crew. "You will anchor off the Belize coast and go 'fishing.' Drew and I will go ahead to Belize City. I will be working closely with another Interpol officer and the Belize government authorities. I hope we can get this plan to work smoothly. It's all a matter of timing. Especially since Dana Terrell is being held captive there. You must get her out safely before you commence with the chief objective of the mission."

"Why is she there?" Muriel wanted to know.

"Talbot had her kidnapped so he can hold her in a cell similar to the one his brother's in. It was her testimony that got Jake Talbot convicted for the murders of Dana's parents." Foster explained. "Talbot plans to execute her the same time his brother is executed."

"Sounds like he has a screw loose," Muriel returned.

"Do not underestimate LaRue Talbot," Gus warned. "He's teamed up with Pendrift and they are both ruthless. Ruthless and mean."

"You needn't tell me about Pendrift."

"You were to have a floor plan for Talbot's house. Do you have it?" Andre asked.

"Not on me."

"That's obvious," he shot back sourly. "Where is it?"

"In my hotel room."

"You were to have been ready to sail when we arrived."

"I am ready. I just need to go back to the hotel for my luggage and to check out."

"I see. Lieutenant Prescott will accompany you."

She looked around at Drew. "I'd rather that Lieutenant Ward accompany me."

"Lieutenant Ward will be going with me to Belize City. If you do anything to mess up this assignment I shall report it to you superiors, Miss Payne. Gus and Captain O'Brien will be in charge of the boat. They both have their instructions. Miss Payne, I expect you to be back here by the time the crew takes on supplies. They will be at sea before the sun goes down. Do I make myself clear, Miss Payne?"

"Very, Mr. Vanderlin."

# Chapter 31

"When we arrive in Belize City, we'll get a room at the hotel until morning. Marcus Broadmour, a Belize official, will meet us at the airport." Andre took a drink from his water bottle. "One thing you need to beware. Don't drink the water that comes from the faucet. Though I believe that Belize City is pretty safe, the village where you are going may not be. Ian Barrett will arrive tomorrow to take you there by boat. That is the best way to get there. Ian has your cell phone number to call you when he arrives in Belize City."

Drew nodded in agreement but said nothing. He looked out the window of the airplane. Please God, let me be in time. He controlled his breathing. A deep breath in and let it out slowly. He could feel the tension building like it did before going in on a raid. This time more than his life was at stake. So was the life of the woman he loved and their baby. He needed to be in control. This was not a time to let emotions rule. Beneath them the blue waters of the Caribbean Sea shone in the evening sun. Soon they would be setting down and he could get a hotel room where he could be alone with his thoughts.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He would not get a good night's sleep until Dana was safely in bed with him.

Broadmour was waiting when their plane landed. After the brief introductions, he said, "I'll get you through customs faster. You do have your passports, don't you?"

Drew patted his shirt pocket as he looked the Belize official over. Broadmour stood five feet, eight inches. Compared with himself and Andre, Broadmour was short.

"Just call me Marcus," Broadmour said in perfect American English. "Are either of you carrying weapons?"

"I have two guns in my bag," Drew said. "I was told to bring them."

"That's okay. You're a law enforcement officer. You'll probably need them before this is over." He wasn't just talking when he said he'd get them through customs quicker. They showed their passports and Marcus explained that they were there on a joint law enforcement operation and within five minutes they were walking to the parking lot and Marcus' red Navigator.

Marcus gave them a rundown on the most recent information they had on Talbot's compound. "We have three operatives undercover. I suppose you'll want to get Miss Blum out first. Talbot had a special cell built for her. It is attached to the main house but not a part of the actual floor plan. And it can be accessed from the outside. We would like to capture as many alive as possible."

"Drumheller's mine," Drew said.

At the hotel, Drew checked in and went to his room. He needed to be alone to think and to pray. That was something he'd begun with the loss of Dana and his mother's death. It gave him a connection to the way he'd been brought up. He knelt beside the bed but the words wouldn't come. He recalled what Jennie had said about the groaning of the spirit. "Do you hear my spirit, Lord?" he asked. "Please help me."

He stood up and went to the mini bar beside the sliding doors to the balcony. Finding a small bottle of bourbon, he didn't bother with a glass. He opened the curtains and stood looking out into the fading light. "I'm coming, Dana. Please hang on. I'm coming."

His cell rang and he took it from the pocket of his tan slacks. "Yeah, Andre?"

"Agent Broadmour has invited us to dinner tonight. He's sending a car for us."

"How much time do we have?"

"About a half an hour."

"I'm going to take a quick shower. I'll see you in the lobby." Drew disconnected and turned on a lamp before closing the curtains.

Drew dressed in khaki shorts with a matching short-sleeved button-front shirt that he'd bought in Cancun while waiting for the plane to take them to Belize. Andre and Pierre, another Interpol agent, were waiting for him and they stepped out into the tropical air that felt stifling after the air conditioned hotel rooms.

The driver guided the blue BMW through the streets to a white stucco house in the suburbs. The front door opened onto a courtyard with flagstone paving and a fountain in the center. A string of colored lights illumined the porch which extended around three sides of the courtyard. Broadmour stood up and came forward from where he'd sat by a table already set for dinner with places for eight people.

"Welcome," Marcus greeted as he shook hands with them. "Come. Sit down and have a drink. What would you like?"

"Gin and tonic," Andre answered. Pierre opted for brandy.

"Bourbon," Drew said sinking into a chair that gave him a view of the fountain. "Pleasant place you have here, Marcus."

"It is good to relax at home after some of the work that I do. Diana and the children help take away the stress of the day."

From inside the house came the call of, "Mom, I can't find my pink sandals."

"Where did you take them off?" a woman's voice answered.

"In my room. I think."

"If you'd clean your room maybe you could find things," the woman flung over her shoulder as she came out the door.

The men came to their feet. "Don't stand up on my account," she said.

Drew pointed a finger at her. "Texas."

"You're very observant," she responded with a smile. "I met Marcus when we were both in college at Texas A&M."

"There's a former Texas Ranger working in the homicide department in New York."

The smile faded from her lips. "His name wouldn't by any chance be Hank O'Connor, would it?"

"Yes, it is," Drew responded.

Her voice was very quiet. "He's my father. I would like to talk to you alone before you leave tonight." Then she smiled and turned to her other guests for introductions.

Drew was dumbfounded. He knew Hank had a daughter who was in college at the time he'd left Texas, but he never expected to find her there in Belize married to a government official. He shook his head trying to make sense of it all.

He said little during the meal but listened to the others' chatter until the children's nanny came to take them inside to get ready for bed. Diana made sure the men had drinks before asking Drew to step aside to talk to her. They strolled over to the fountain.

She took a sip from her lemonade. "I want to explain how things were after Dad got shot. It was really difficult for me. I was a senior in high school when my mother was arrested for plotting to murder my father. The doctors weren't sure Dad would survive. I didn't know what I should do. I was an eighteen-year-old girl suddenly on my own. Dad's sister was going through a bad divorce so I asked her to move in with me. Of course, she brought along her two children. Having her there was more of a complication than a help but at least I wasn't alone.

"It was a relief to learn that Dad would make it but he was in for a long rehabilitation period. By the time he got out of the hospital, I had already graduated. He was in an acerb mood all the time. And those were his good days." She smiled. "He was depressed because he could no longer pass the physical examination for his work. Being a Texas Ranger was part of who he was and that part of his life was gone. He got a good disability pension from the great state of Texas but that didn't help. I went off to college just to get away from him."

She wiped away a tear. "She did it so she could get Dad's life insurance. I went back to college and when I returned home for semester break, there was a for sale sign in front of the house. He'd divorced her and moved into an apartment. My stuff was in a storage unit and what he didn't need for his apartment he'd sold. I went back to college. I never returned home after that. I met Marcus and we got married in our junior year because Amanda was on the way. When we graduated we moved back here. I never got in touch with Dad or heard from him again. Aunt Lucy told me that he moved to New York where he's a homicide detective."

"Do you regret losing touch with him?"

"Sometimes. I never knew how to find him."

"Do you want to?"

She held out her hand under the falling water. "Yes. I want to. I want the children to know their grandfather."

Drew took out his cell phone and scrolled to Hank's number, putting the phone on speaker. Hank's sleepy voice answered. "O'Connor."

"Howdy, Hank. You go to bed with the chickens tonight?"

"Drew. I got called at three this morning. Where the hell are you?"

"Belize. I have someone here that wants to talk to you." Drew nodded to Diana.

"Hello, Dad." Silence. "Dad? It's Di."

Hank's voice was gruff. "What the hell are you doing in Belize?"

"I live here with my husband. He's a government official. Sort of the equivalent of the U.S. FBI. His name is Marcus Broadmour."

"Not a name you'd expect to hear in Central America."

"Belize used to be an English colony."

"Do I have any grandchildren?"

"Three. Amanda, Teresa and Henry. I named him for you, Dad."

"I don't think she can talk anymore," Drew said. "She crying."

"So am I," Hank growled. "Did you find Dana?"

"I know where she is. I can't talk about the rest because it's classified. If I can't bring her back I won't be coming back."

"Di, I'd like to meet your husband and children, but I can't take a vacation right now because we're shorthanded. Di, I'll be retiring in a year or two. Maybe I can come down there and spend some time. I'm thinking about becoming a private cop."

"Di and the children can visit you now," Marcus spoke up. "I would like for them to be out of the country right now. We are coming up against some very bad hombres. They would not hesitate to kill them if they want revenge. That is why Miss Blum is being held. For revenge."

"Dad, we'll be along soon. I don't know how long it will take. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, sweetheart, you can get my cell number from Drew. Call soon."

****

Drew sat at the table by the window in his hotel room with a beer. He had his laptop out and typed a long letter to Hank telling him as much as he could about the situation without jeopardizing the mission. He knew Hank was fond of Dana. The thought hit him that Dana and Diana were just one letter apart from being alike. It did not surprise him that his friend would "adopt" Dana as a substitute for his own daughter.

Hank had been a true friend when Drew needed him most. With the physical weakness from being shot twice, he couldn't endure the shock of losing both Dana and his mother. He'd had an emotional breakdown and Hank had helped him through it; sometimes spending the night on Drew's couch. Hank was the only one who knew what Drew had been through.

The tension Drew was under now threatened to drag him back into the abyss of depression. He had to stay strong for Dana's sake. He had to. He drank another beer. And another. Then he stripped off his clothes except his shorts and lay down on the bed. He knew he couldn't stop the tears. But he had to allow them to flow or risk breaking down when he was most needed. When his tears stopped he controlled his breathing in long deep breaths until he fell asleep.

It seemed he had just closed his eyes when the phone rang. "H'lo."

"Sir, you asked for a nine o'clock wakeup call."

"Yeah, thanks." He hung up and rolled over to sit up on the other side of the bed where his clothes lay on the floor. His mouth tasted like he'd eaten something rotten. He showered and brushed his teeth. He hadn't shaved for three days but he thought that would make it a little less likely that Drumheller or Pendrift might recognize him.

He was at the Laundromat packing his clean clothing in his duffel bag when his cell phone rang. "Ward."

"This is Ian Barrett." Drew had to smile at the Australian accent. "I'm to take you along home with me."

"Yeah. Where are you docked?"

Ian told him adding, "She's the Boomerang. Only one like her. She can be capricious just like a woman. I have to pick up some things for Manuela. I'll meet you there in half an hour."

"I'll be there as quick as a taxi can bring me."

The taxi dropped him at the pier and he walked along looking at the names on the boats. The Boomerang was an eighteen footer, white with a blue topside. Drew walked up and said to a man bending down beside the boat's wheel. "Ian Barrett?"

"Be with you in a minute," the man said.

No Aussie accent. The warning bells went off in Drew's brain.

The man straightened and turned around. "Now how can I help you?"

Drew was certain the man wasn't Barrett. Marcus had shown him a picture of Barrett. A tall brown haired man with a deep tan. The man who stood before him was medium height, black haired and looked like he was afraid of the sun.

"I'm supposed to go with you."

"I hope you don't mind waiting until I keep an appointment. It won't take long."

Drew dropped his luggage on the dock and reached down a hand to assist the man up. The man took Drew's hand. As soon as he stepped up to the dock, Drew pulled hard and bent his arm around behind him. "If you don't fight me maybe I won't have to break your arm." Drew took out his cell and scrolled to Marcus' number and hit send. "Marcus, I just found someone messing around Ian's boat. How quick can you get here?"

"I'm on my way. I'll call Ian so he knows."

"Down on your knees," Drew ordered the man. He reached for his forensic kit and unzipped it, pulling out a set of handcuffs to cuff the man's hands behind him. "Now we wait for the police." Drew heard the sirens.

Drew stood by with his backup .38 as Marcus, another plain clothes cop and Ian bailed out of a black unmarked police car. Marcus and the other officer came running along the pier but Ian stayed behind to take some bags from the back seat before he came striding along toward them.

"I'm glad you showed me a picture of Ian last night," Drew said as Marcus and the other officer came up to him. "Of course, he gave himself away as soon as he opened his mouth. Ian had called me before I got here. This guy's definitely not an Aussie."

Ian came up with a grin on his face. "What you got here, mate?" As tall as Drew, Ian was lean and weathered a deep bronze from years of outdoor living. He wore a wide brimmed hat that would have made Crocodile Dundee proud, right down to the snakeskin hat band.

"He was messing around your boat." Drew tossed his luggage into the boat and followed it. Taking a glove and flashlight from his kit, he went to the helm and knelt down to shine his light underneath. "Well, well. Look what we have here." He carefully pulled down an electronic device and put it in a plastic bag. He handed it up to Marcus as two uniformed officers arrived.

Marcus ordered them to take the man into custody.

"Put your own cuffs on him. The ones he's wearing are mine." Drew said. "Never know when I might need them again." He dusted powder over a spot on where he'd seen the man place his hand. "What a beautiful handprint." He got a sheet of clear plastic with adhesive on one side and carefully smoothed it over the print. He pulled it up just as carefully and gave it to Marcus.

After he gave Marcus a recorded statement, Ian came aboard and stowed his purchases in the cabin. "Might as well chuck your gear down here. Then we'll get underway. Help yourself to a beer an' bring one up for me. It's in that cooler just to the left."

They were underway when Drew asked him, "Why would they bug your boat?"

Ian shrugged. "Maybe they're watching you or maybe the police have a leak. I can tell you Talbot's crew are expecting you. Drumheller's been in Jose's pub bragging how he's going to get you. He's a big man. Mean as they come. Didn't used to be so mean."

"How long have you known him?" Drew was trying to figure where Ian fit into the scheme of things. He hadn't missed the bulge in the pocket of Ian's khaki cargo shorts; a bulge that could be a gun.

"Couple years. He'd come around now and then. Few months ago he came to stay except when him, Pendrift and Curtis took off for a while. They came back with that girl, Antonia Blum."

"I know her as Dana Terrell. Did you see her?"

"Took my boat out to meet the seaplane. She's pregnant, you know?"

"I know."

"Yours?"

"Yup." Drew wondered how much Ian knew about the planned operation. He decided to put out a few feelers. "Drumheller got into a mess he couldn't get out of. I suspected him of being dirty but I had no proof. Then he broke into my apartment and tried to kidnap Dana. I had him in jail. The judge denied bail. Then the FBI walked in with a couple U.S. Marshals and took him away."

"He's a slick bastard, that's for sure. He's smart, too. That's what makes him so dangerous. Big man. I'm not sure I'd want to tangle with him."

"Yup. But he was just a little too sure of himself. I got the goods on him that proves he killed Morrison and Mitchell. He just thought he trimmed off the loose ends. He left a glove in the van he used." Drew gazed out over the water.

Ian pulled the boat up beside the dock and made it fast. Drew came from the cabin carrying Ian's bags which he handed up before getting his own. A squall of rain swept in from the east. There was no staying dry and they were too loaded down to run though they walked as fast as they could with Ian taking the lead.

"We'll go around back so we don't mess up Manuela's floor in the bar." Ian explained. "The kitchen floor has tile." Just as they reached the door, the downpour let up.

"So now it quits," Drew grumbled.

"You got to take life as it comes, mate. We'll go right upstairs and get dried off." Ian knocked on the door. "Manuela keeps the back door locked when Jose isn't here."

The door opened and a small black-haired woman stepped back to allow them inside. Ian carried the bags to the table in the center of the room. He turned to introduce Drew to Manuela.

She nodded briefly but her eyes took his measure. "I know about you and why you are here. I ask only that there is no trouble inside the cantina. Ian will show you to your room." She turned and went back to the public room.

"Come along, mate." Ian opened a door to the stairs and started up. The only light was from a window on a landing halfway up. At the top of the stairs a white cat came to greet them. Ian reached down and scratched her ears. "Blanca will check you out to see if you qualify as an acceptable roomer. She's the boss above stairs."

"Where's that door lead to?" Drew indicated a door to the right of the stairs.

"Outside staircase. Fire escape."

"It's bolted on the inside."

"Keeps out the riff-raff." Ian led the way down the hall. "These first two rooms on the left are Jose and Manuela's living quarters. The first room on the right is some government bloke. He's only here now and then. The rest of the time he's 'out in the field.' Don't ask what that means? I don't know. I only met him a couple times. He doesn't socialize a lot when he's here. I think he has something to do with drugs. Maybe trying to find out if anyone's growing marijuana.

"This is the bathroom. May as well go change into something dry. The towels are on a shelf to the left of the door."

When he was dried and changed into cutoff denims and a turquoise tank top, Drew went to his room. The first thing he did was open the wooden shutter-blinds to get the lay of the land. On the street side of his room he could look out over the sea. In the distance lightning flashed portending another storm.

He moved to the side window. Below a path led between the building he was in and the one next door. That building was only one story with a flat roof. Drew wondered if he could jump that far if he needed to escape.

A knock on the door interrupted his thinking. "Who is it?"

"Me," came the unmistakable Aussie accent.

"It's not locked."

Ian came in. "Getting the lay of the land?"

"Yup. What happens if there's a fire and we can't get to the back door? Do we jump across to the next building?"

"Nah." Ian squatted down beside the bed and pulled out a chain ladder made to hook over the windowsill. "I don't leave too much to chance. Are you as hungry as I am?"

"Famished."

"Let's go down and see what Manuela's cooked up for dinner. The kitchen smelled enticing when we came in."

# Chapter 32

"Jose, this is Lieutenant Ward." Manuela introduced the two men. Drew held out his hand and Jose accepted it for a firm handshake. "I've been expecting you." Jose spoke to his wife. "Is Lila here?"

"Si."

"Then we'll go upstairs to talk."

"If I'd known that we'd just stayed up there," Ian said.

"The exercise will do you good," Manuela spoke up as she opened the stair door to precede the three men up the steps. They entered the second door on the left, a sitting room. Near a window in the far wall was a computer.

Jose walked over and turned it on to let it boot up. From his pocket he took a memory stick and inserted it into a port in the front of the tower. "Every day I make a copy of what the camera records from the past twenty-four hours. It shows Miss Blum's cell where she is locked away from the world. Last night was bad for her. She screamed at the camera. Talbot and his hell hounds laughed at her." He brought up the file to give Drew an idea of the room where Dana was being held. "There is no window. Just a air vent on the roof. She has little light except when Talbot wants to play mind games with her. He will sometimes turn on the lights in the middle of the night to keep her awake. She doesn't even have a Bible."

He fast forwarded to the part of the footage to show her crying and cursing Talbot. "My heart aches for her but there is nothing I can do. Yet."

Drew was astounded by the harshness with which Dana was being treated. "What about food?"

"She has all the water she wants. Bottled water. Rosa, the cook, takes her breakfast and dinner. It is scarcely enough sustain even a small person like her. Rosa told me she sneaks her extra food when she can. She said it's for the baby."

Drew shook his head as he absorbed it all. "How do you fit in the scheme of things?"

Jose took a quick look at his wife then looked back at Drew. "This is strictly confidential. Manuela and I help the police. That is all I can tell you because we would pay with our lives if the wrong people found out."

Drew nodded. "I understand."

"I must get back downstairs." Manuela left the room.

"I am hungry," Jose said as he shut down the computer. "Let's go eat."

At the bottom of the stairs, they paused in the kitchen to fill their plates with pork and vegetables with rice. "Where did you get the pork?" Jose asked his wife.

"One of Horatio's pigs got out of its pen and got hit on the road. He sold both shoulders and hams to me. I baked the hams for tonight. It was a little pig. I put the shoulders in the freezer for later." She filled a plate for herself and followed them to the public room where she paused at the bar to tell Lila, "I'll help you as soon as I eat. Bring four beers to our table."

They sat in a corner booth away from the other patrons. Ian and Drew slid in next to the wall with Jose sitting beside Ian and Manuela sitting beside Drew.

"You're one lucky bloke to have a wife that can cook like Manuela," Ian said. "I haven't eaten since breakfast and you know what time that was."

"I've had nothing since breakfast either. This is delicious and filling," Drew said. The two men shoveled food into their mouths as quickly as they could swallow it. Jose wasn't taking time for conversation either.

Manuela finished first and stood up. "I'll bring dessert. I made flan."

When their plates were empty, Jose carried them to the kitchen. He returned with three desserts of the sweet custard with a caramel topping. "I'm going to help out at the bar. Manuela is very tired."

They drained their mugs of beer. "Will you bring us two more and the chess and checker set?" Ian looked over at Drew. "You do play, don't you?"

Drew nodded. "Chess and checkers."

They were well into a game of chess when Ian looked up at the sound of the door. "Don't look now but trouble just walked in."

"Drumheller?"

Ian nodded. "With Curtis and Pendrift."

While Ian was preoccupied, Drew made his move. "Check."

Ian quickly moved his king over a space so it was protected by a pawn. "I guess I better pay attention to the game."

Drew could feel Drumheller's gaze on his back but he didn't look around. He heard Drumheller's footsteps behind him but made his next move. "Check."

Drumheller latched onto Drew's hair and pulled his head back. "Hello, Lieutenant Lover Boy. We have her now and you aren't getting her back."

Drew reached up with his right hand and seized Drumheller's wrist squeezing as hard as he could.  
When Drumheller released his grip, Drew didn't. He stood up and faced Drumheller. "Lewis Drumheller, you are under arrest for the murders of Wesley Morrison and Charles Mitchell. You have the right to remain silent..."

Drumheller and Curtis roared with laughter. Drumheller pulled free. "You don't have jurisdiction here."

"I came for Dana and I don't intend to leave without her."

Pendrift stepped between Drew and the former FBI agent. "Go sit down, Lew. Don't start anything here in Jose's pub or I'll have LaRue clip your ears."

"I'll deal with you later," Drumheller threatened. "Better watch your back. Coming here alone was a mistake."

Drew knew he was fishing for information but he refused to give him any satisfaction. "You better watch your back." Drew sat back down to continue the game. He didn't know Jose was close until he slid onto the bench beside Drew.

"You did well not to tell him anything," Jose said softly. "You are safe here because I work for Talbot and Lew knows I will tell if he starts something here."

"He know from experience?" Drew asked.

Jose nodded and stood up. He moved off to a patron who called for another beer. Ian and Drew played a few more games before retiring to their rooms.

Drew stripped off his shirt and shorts. He checked out his room to make sure it was like he left it. He closed the shutters on the front windows but left the other window open for ventilation. With no air conditioning the room was hot. He lay down on the bed to think of his next move. He was sure Drumheller meant what he said. He had better watch his back.

****

Dana didn't look like she'd been harmed despite the plain cell where she was held. He wondered if he could get a message to her through Jose. He decided against it. They couldn't afford to have Jose's cover blown. He fell asleep with her on his mind.

He roused from his sleep to see daylight outside his window. He sat up and worked through some exercises to get the stiffness out of his left shoulder. Then he headed for the bathroom. He dressed in the tank top and cutoffs he'd worn the night before and went downstairs.

Manuela was working in the kitchen. "Good morning. What would you like for breakfast?"

"Just coffee right now. Is Ian up yet?"

"He's an early bird. He said he was going to clean his boat just in case he gets some tourists who would like to go fishing. If he doesn't, he usually goes out alone or with one of the other men around here. Fish is a large part of our diet. That's how he pays his rent."

Drew carried his coffee to the public room and sat down to drink it as he mulled over what had happened the night before. He saw no need to contact any of his fellow agents. He went back to the kitchen and asked, "What are my options for breakfast?"

After she told him he responded, "I'll take bacon and eggs." He helped himself to another coffee. "You haven't asked me how I'll pay my rent. Do you take credit cards?"

"No. We haven't the proper equipment. Don't worry about it. The Belize government has already paid us."

"What's your connection to the government?"

She shrugged. "We were asked to assist and pass on information. It is not the first time Jose was involved in a government operation. It is easy for us because we have the cantina here. Jose works as a guard for Talbot. He minds the monitors for the many cameras they have around the place. I work as a maid on the days he has off. I clean Miss Blum's cell while she is taking a shower."

"Could you get a message to her?"

"No. It is not wise. I am never alone with her. Rosa keeps a sharp eye out when I am around her. Rosa will not go against Talbot's wishes though I am sure she doesn't like him. She goes around saying the rosary in Mayan. She attends church every Sunday and puts most of her pay in the poor box. No one knows much about her."

"If you want me to I can make my own breakfast. I know how to cook."

"The bacon and eggs are in the cooler. Help yourself."

After he ate Drew walked down to the dock where Ian was busy cleaning his boat after the previous day's storms. "Need any help?"

Ian looked up with a grin. "I'm almost finished now. You should have come earlier."

Drew looked out over the water and noted a boat larger than the other crafts that were out. "You got a pair of binoculars?"

"Sure." Ian unlocked a watertight cabinet and pulled out a leather case that he handed up to Drew.

Drew took out the binoculars and scanned the sea. "There she is. The Fisherman's Joy. I hope someone contacts me to let me know what's happening." He was tempted to call Sommerfield to learn what the plans were. He decided to let it go a while until someone called him. He knew they wouldn't waste time about deploying the operatives. Especially if there was a leak in the Belize police force. Besides, local curiosity could be stimulated if the fishing vessel was anchored offshore for a prolonged period of time.

That afternoon Drew and Ian sat in the public room of the cantina playing checkers when Muriel Payne breezed through the door. She made right for Drew. Sliding onto the bench beside him, she asked, "Who's your friend?"

"Muriel Payne, Ian Barratt," Drew said as a way of introduction.

"Okay," she said to Ian. "I know who you are." She pulled a folded paper from inside her snug fitting halter and gave it to Drew. "Commit this to memory and then burn it."

Drew grinned at her. "Considering where it's been, it should burn all by itself."

She gave a toss of her head. "Flatterer. I've got to get back to the boat or Lieutenant Prescott may leave without me." She stood up and looked down at Drew. "It's a damn shame you're already spoken for."

"I'm not," Ian said with a wink of his eye.

She laughed lightly. "Is that an offer? I'll think about it. I really must go." She walked slowly to the door, swaying to an inner rhythm.

"Whew! She could melt candle wax just by walking past it." Ian grinned over at Drew. "Why don't we take a siesta while it's so hot? We can talk more this evening."

****

"This smoke is starting to get to me. I need some fresh air." Drew stood up and made his way to the cantina's door.

He strolled leisurely across the street to the steps that led down to the beach. He looked around like someone with no specific destination in mind. To the east he could see flashes of lightning as another storm moved toward the coastal village. He moved on to the far end of the dock. A few lights across the dark sea told him where the Fisherman's Joy rode the water.

He scanned the dark water for some trace of bubbles but saw none. Suddenly two black heads popped from the water at his feet. No one spoke. The divers didn't even take out their mouthpieces. One of the divers shoved up to rest his elbows on the dock. He unscrewed to cap on a plastic tube. Drew took the rolled up papers from a cargo pocket in his khaki shorts and slid them into the tube. The diver screwed the cap in place and sunk beneath the water.

Mission accomplished , Drew thought. He'd followed to the letter the instructions in the note Muriel had brought him. Manuela drew the floor plan of Talbot's house while Jose drew new plans of the compound including the first and second floor plans for the building that housed Talbot's henchmen. He added the details of where cameras were located and where the monitors were on the second floor of the employees' quarters.

Drew turned back and meandered along toward the steps up to the street. On both sides of the steps fishermen's nets were stretched out on posts. He looked back at the approaching storm as two figures emerged from the shadows of the nets. He had let his guard down and was caught unawares.

He turned sideways and jumped back to the sand but they were on him before he could recover from his jump. Two big men seized him and jerked his arms behind him. He kicked out but missed. He could feel the plastic zip ties cut into his wrists as a dark bag was pulled over his head. When he tried to call out one of the men punched him on the side of his head addling him.

He shook his head to clear it as he was dragged toward a black SUV. They shoved him face down onto the back seat and bent his legs to close the door. They didn't speak until they were on the road. He immediately recognized Drumheller's voice He guessed the other man was Curtis.

"Where are you taking me?" Drew asked.

Drumheller laughed. "If we'd wanted you to know that we wouldn't have bagged your head. Talbot wants to meet you."

The vehicle traveled smoothly so they were still on a paved road. He was reasonably sure they were taking him to Talbot's stronghold. He'd thought about doing exactly what was happening but had discarded that idea because he could end up dead and would be no help to Dana that way. He was trying to formulate some plan when the SUV stopped.

He heard the front doors slam and soon the door by his head opened. They grabbed his arms and hauled him out allowing him to fall in the mud beside the tarmac. One of them pulled the bag off his head as the other one cut the zip ties from his wrists.

Drumheller delivered a kick to Drew's ribs. "Get up, you son-of-a-bitch."

Drew pushed himself to a sitting position facing them with the vehicle at his back. He waited to see if they'd try to approach him.

"Stand up," Curtis ordered.

Drew leaned back against the SUV with his feet flat on the ground. He pushed up with his legs until he stood leaning against the door of the car. Again he waited to see what they would do. They eased forward to either side of him. Curtis was moving in quicker on Drew's left. Drew's eyes shifted from one to the other. As soon as Curtis got close enough Drew made a lightning fast turn and slammed his right fist into Curtis' stomach. Curtis' breath went out with a whoosh and he went to his knees.

Drumheller took advantage to move in on Drew with a left jab to the side of Drew's head. Drew stumbled away from the car and shook his head to clear it. Drumheller came at him fast, but even in his addled state, Drew managed to evade him. Drew became aware that there was something in his shirt pocket. His cell phone! He had to get rid of it because of the sensitive information it contained along with the names of fellow operatives.

Drumheller saw Drew take it from his pocket and tried to grab it. Drew kicked him in the knee and spun away, throwing the cell phone as far back into the jungle as he could. That move cost him as Drumheller moved in behind him and seized his left arm and bent it around behind him. Drew knew his left side was still weak from when he'd been shot back in January. Digging his heels into the mud he shoved his full weight back against Drumheller, head butting him in the face.

He managed to free himself from Drumheller and danced away coming face to face with Curtis. He didn't give Curtis a chance to react but kneed him in the crotch. Curtis went down again.

Drew backed up against the SUV and leaned against it to catch his breath. Drumheller wiped blood from his nose with his hand. "You son-of-a-bitch!" He came at Drew like a mad bull.

Drew spun away letting Drumheller crash into the car door.

"You're too slow and clumsy, Lew. You been living too easy," Drew taunted while keeping a wary eye on Curtis who was getting to his feet. The two felons began circling Drew coming closer and closer. They were both big men, as tall as Drew and heavier. He knew if they got him between them he was done for. He decided that Curtis was slower to react than Drumheller so he focused on him. He was sure Curtis didn't have the martial arts training Drumheller had.

Drew took a quick step forward with his left foot and swung his right foot to land a kick in Curtis' ribs. His foot slipped in the mud and he went down but managed to roll away from Drumheller in time to regain his footing. He backed up to the car and let Drumheller come closer. He feigned a jab at Drumheller's face. When Drumheller ducked aside, Drew drove a kick in Drumheller's crotch. With a grunt, Drumheller went down.

Curtis moved in from the side with a punch to Drew's jaw and slammed his fist into Drew's ribs on his left side, knocking Drew down in the mud. He kicked Drew in the ribs. "Get up, you bastard!" Another kick in the ribs. Drew rolled away and managed to get to his knees. Curtis kicked him in the stomach, knocking Drew's breath from him. He fell forward, gasping for air.

By then Drumheller was back on his feet. With one on either side of him, they hauled Drew to his feet. Curtis pinned Drew's arms behind him while Drumheller battered his face until he slumped forward and would have fallen if Curtis wouldn't have been holding him.

"Let him go," Drumheller ordered.

Curtis let go and Drew fell forward face first in the mud. He tried to get back up but only managed to get to his hands and knees. Drumheller kicked him in the stomach. Drew fell flat. His stomach churned and he knew he was going to vomit. He pushed back to his hands and knees and retched. Curtis and Drumheller laughed.

Drumheller got behind Drew and kicked him in the balls. Drew fell forward face down in his vomit. He managed to roll aside but was unable to get up. They turned him over and rubbed his face in his vomit. Before they hauled him to his feet and shoved him onto the back seat of the SUV, Curtis unzipped his fly and urinated on Drew's back. As the vehicle started moving, Drew's stomach heaved. It'll serve them right. He leaned over the floorboard and disgorged what was left of his supper.

He wondered if they were going to kill him and dump his body. He'd failed Dana. She was pregnant with his baby. Somehow he had to escape. Then he heard Drumheller say, "Carlos, we'll be there in about five minutes. Make sure you're there to unlock the gate. Tell the boss we brought him a present."

Drew tried to clear his fuzzy thinking. The vehicle stopped and he heard the sound of metal on metal. The car moved ahead for a few minutes before coming to a stop. There were lights around and people talking. Curtis and Drumheller got out of the car.

They opened the door and dragged Drew out unceremoniously allowing his head to hit the ground. He could hear Drumheller on the phone. When he disconnected, he said, "The boss'll be right out. What do you think of our prize, Giles?"

Pendrift pushed Drew's head with his foot. "Looks kind of peaked to me. Well, well, Lieutenant, we meet again. This time it's on my turf. Here comes LaRue now."

Talbot strode up to the gathering. "Did you find out if he's working alone?"

"We were too busy fighting to keep from getting our asses beat," Curtis answered.

"Put him in with his lady love. He'll keep till morning. I have company. Very important company. Bring him along."

They hoisted Drew to his feet and dragged him along to a door in a concrete building. The other men who were gathered around headed back to their quarters. The excitement was over for now.

Behind a darkened window, a shadowy figure placed a cell phone call. The voice was a raspy whisper in heavily accented English. "Senor Broadmour. Drumheller and Curtis just bring in Lieutenant Ward. They beat him bad. They put him with the senorita."

"That changes things drastically. We can't wait. We must make our move tonight. You know what to do?"

"Si."

"I have to set everything up. I'll call you about fifteen minutes before we move in."

# Chapter 33

"We have a special gift for you, Miss Blum." Talbot unlocked the cell door.

As soon as she'd heard them, the lights came on and Dana cowered in the corner beyond the concrete table and bench. They shoved a man into the cell. He fell in the middle of the floor and lay still a moment before getting to his hands and knees and crawling to the toilet to puke. He smelled like vomit and urine.

Dana could hear the men laughing on the other side of the door. She looked closer at the man before her. "Drew! Oh, my God! Drew."

He quit retching and settled to a sitting position beneath the stainless steel sink. Dana ran to the corner for two bottles of water. She sprayed the water from one bottle on his face to wash away the vomit and blood. He caught her hand and directed the spray into his mouth.

Scooting across he spat the water in the toilet. "More." His voice was a hoarse whisper.

She gave him another drink. "What happened?"

"Curtis and Drumheller caught me out and beat me. From what I heard, I think they plan to question me tomorrow. They may use you to force me to talk. Not good."

"If I help you up, do you think you can walk to the bunk?"

"I'll manage."

She leaned down to get his right arm around her neck and pulled. He pushed with his legs to a shaky stance, leaning heavily on her. They began a slow walk to the bunk about five feet away. He sat down heavily.

"I think they broke my ribs. After I was down they kept kicking me." His swollen lips twisted in a sardonic grin. "They may have made a meal of me but I got a few bites. But once they got the better of me, they got even and more."

Dana busily washed face. "You smell like pee."

"A finale from Curtis. " He unbuttoned the shirt and she helped him out of it throwing it along the opposite wall. She bathed him to his waist before helping him out of his muddy shorts. Then she washed the mud from his legs and removed his shoes.

"Lie down."

Blood still oozed from his nose so she gave him the small towel to keep it wiped away. "Lie down with me," he pleaded.

"Okay, but remember we're on camera. They monitor sound, too." She pointed to the camera.

"Don't worry about it. The shape I'm in I'm not feeling too playful right now. I just want you beside me. I want to feel my baby move." That he was in pain was evident as he scooted aside to lean against the concrete wall.

She lay down and turned toward him. He placed his hand on her abdomen but didn't feel any movement. "She usually waits until I'm resting to begin exercising."

"She?"

"She. At home there is an ultrasound to prove it."

"Have you named her yet?"

"Nothing definite yet. I've been thinking about Jacqueline. For your middle name."

"What's your middle name?"

"At this point, I'm not even sure what my legal name is. Antonia Blum or Dana Terrell."

"I like Dana better."

"So do I. That's the name my business is in and everything else. I think I'll keep it. If it's legal. Go to sleep. You'll need all your strength tomorrow." She brushed a light kiss across his swollen lips. She closed her eyes but couldn't sleep. The bright lights bothered her and the predicament they were in worried her. She wondered if they would use her to force Drew to talk. Talk about what? He hadn't said. When the lights were dimmed, she dozed to be awakened suddenly by a strange scratching sound and whispers.

"Drew." She shook him. "Drew, wake up," she whispered in his ear.

He opened the right eye that wasn't swollen shut. "What?"

She placed a finger on his lips. "Listen."

He became instantly alert. "Move. I have to piss." With a groan of pain, he sat up and scooted to sit on the edge of the bed. The sounds were coming from the roof near the air vent. He glanced up as he walked to the toilet to relieve himself.

Dana stood up and picked up her sheet to slide it over her head.

"What's this?" Drew asked as he turned around.

"The closest thing I have to privacy."

"I'll see what I can do about that." He walked to the camera in the corner. Reaching up, he tried to pull it from its mount on the wall. That failing, he directed it toward the floor. He seized the wires coming from the wall and yanked. Sparks flew as the wires came loose. "That takes care of that." He walked slowly to the center of the small cell and looked up. "Who's up there?"

"Jose', Trey and Gus," came the answer in a definite British accent. "We'll have you out in three shakes. As soon as we get this vent removed."

"Moved your time ahead a couple days?"

"Yes. Your abduction forced that." The sounds of the square vent being pulled off came down. "Lady first. Can you lift her up." Gus' face appeared about the dark square.

"I can't lift her high enough. I have broken ribs." He knelt down. "Climb on my shoulders," he ordered Dana.

"I'm not wearing any underwear and this shift will have to be pulled up," she protested.

"This is a life or death situation," he growled. "Get on my shoulders. Forget that I might feel you naked pussy against the back of my neck."

"If you weren't already hurt I'd slap you."

"Do it!"

She pulled up her dress, and with his help she straddled his neck. He grunted as he slowly stood up beneath the square hole in the ceiling.

"You're going to have to turn diagonally so we can get her baby bump through." Dana looked up as she heard the familiar voice of Trey Wilkens.

She reached up her arms and was pulled up through the opening. As she went up, she could feel Drew pulling her dress down around her knees. She didn't have time to thank him.

A voice with a Spanish accent said, "Trey, get her to the opposite end of the roof. Give me your gun."

"Easy does it," Trey cautioned. "Just scoot along. You don't want to fall off the roof."

His words were punctuated by an explosion that sent metal and concrete flying through the air. Trey shielded her with his body. All the lights around the compound went out. She could hear Drew's voice, "What the hell happened?"

"It is the generator shed," Jose' said. "It seems we have help on the inside. Hurry, Drew. We must get you out now."

"My shoulders are too wide to fit. Give me a gun and a flashlight."

The hail of debris abated and Trey urged Dana along the roof until they reached the far end where he helped her down on the porch roof at the front of the house. "Take time to get your breath."

"No time," said a black-clad head that poked up at the end of the porch. "Come now."

"Rosa?"

"Come. I help you. There is ladder. I cut away the vine. You, senor, help her. I put her feet on ladder. Hurry."

Gunfire erupted from the two story building and was returned by the men on the roof. Jose' handed Drew the assault rifle Trey had handed him before dropping through the opening in the pitch black room. "Here's a flashlight." He turned to look up to Gus. "My gun."

"How the hell are we going to get out of here?" Drew asked.

"Just wait. Talbot will be here soon. He will not forget Miss Blum. He wants her dead. I hear someone coming now," said Jose' at the sound of running footsteps. He flattened himself along the wall on one side of the door. Drew did the same on the other as a beam from a flashlight shone through the barred window in the door.

The light beam probed the darkness. "Where the hell did they get to?" rasped a voice on the other side of the door. The light hit the opening to the air vent.

Drew held his breath as he heard the lock being opened. Then the door opened outward. When Talbot stepped inside, Drew poked the barrel of the assault rifle in Talbot's ribs. "Don't even breathe fast. Hands over your head. Slowly."

Jose' reached up to take the Glock from Talbot's hand. "You are under arrest, Senor Talbot."

"Jose'?" Talbot started to turn but the gun Drew held jabbed his ribs.

"Si. It is I."

Drew was still in his undershorts. "I kinda like that shirt your wearing. Take it off. Slowly. Jose', cut up the bed sheet so we can tie him up. Right around that bench." Drew nudged Talbot. "Sit down at the end of the bench."

"First I check to see if he has another weapon." Jose came up with a set of keys, a pocket knife and a cigarette lighter. "Now you sit down."

While Drew held the gun on Talbot, Jose' tied Talbot's hands beneath the bench. Then he tied his feet together around one end of the bench.

"Gag him so he can't holler for help," Drew commanded as he put on Talbot's shirt with green leaves, yellow flowers and red parrots. "Curtis pissed on mine," he explained.

They exited the cell with Jose' locking it behind them. Cautiously, Drew opened the door that led to the rest of the house. They saw no one. Outside a battle raged with Talbot's soldiers shooting from the second floor of the bunkhouse. The loud rat-a-tat-tat of an assault rifle sounded from their side of the building. "Don't let your light shine through those windows," Drew advised. "Someone might be watching."

Drew went forward with the assault rifle at the ready. "Clear!" he said as he checked out the bathroom.

Jose peered into the bedroom next to it. "Clear. Suitcases. It looks like Talbot has company."

Drew grinned in the darkness. "I wonder how they like their welcoming party."

Ahead the hallway opened into a spacious living room. They eased along to it, guns ready. A lone woman sat on a gold damask couch. Springing up she cried out in Spanish. Drew's Spanish wasn't so great but he could tell she was pleading for her life. Her husband and Senora Rand were looking for Talbot.

"He's kind of tied up right now," Drew drawled in English.

Jose' spoke to her to calm her down telling her they wouldn't harm her if she cooperated. He looked at Drew. "What do we do with her? If we just let her go she might warn the others and we could walk into a trap."

"Take her out to the Canadians. That's why they're here."

At the sound of the doorknob turning, Drew swung around to point his gun and his flashlight at the door. Whoever was on the other side was being very careful. Drew moved swiftly to the far side of the door as it eased open a crack. "Who are you?"

"Wilkins." The door opened and he stepped across the threshold.

"Where's Dana?" Drew asked.

"Rosa's taking her and Robin back to the village so Ian can take them out to the boat. I'm still trying to figure how she fits into this. But she did help us get down off the roof and she shot a bugger that came around the house. She must be on our side."

"Jose', take Mrs. what's-her-name out to the marines."

Jose' spoke to her in Spanish. "She said her name is Juana Mendez from Venezuela. Her husband is Diego Mendez. He is big in drugs and smuggling guns. He may wish he'd stayed in Venezuela."

"Trey." Drew nodded to a doorway in the dining room end of the room. They met no one when they opened the door. "Looks like a bedroom. Probably Talbot's."

Hushed voices came from the room beyond. "Talbot's office?" Drew whispered. He pointed to the door that led to the screened-in porch. "Go around in case someone tries to run." Drew turned the doorknob slowly to enter the room quietly.

Pendrift knelt before a safe from which he was taking money and putting it in a duffel bag. Drumheller stood holding a flashlight for him. "Hands in the air and no sudden moves or you're dead." Drew aimed the assault rifle at Pendrift.

Pendrift had just put a bundle of cash in the bag as he raised his left hand. His right hand came up with a pistol. Drew fired off three rounds to Pendrift's one. That one hit Drew at the hairline above his right eye and gouged a path along his skull.

Drumheller got off a shot that struck Drew in his left side as Drew swung his rifle aside and put three shots in Drumheller's neck and head. Blood ran into Drew's eyes and he felt like a mule had kicked him in the side. He put his hand to his ribcage and came away with blood on it. He went down on his knees and fell forward.

The man who came through the door to the outside had a gun but Drew couldn't raise his gun. He heard footsteps running behind him. The man at the door brought his gun up and fired three times. A body fell on top of Drew. Other running footsteps retreated through the adjoining room.

A voice he recognized said, "Jose', Mendez is coming your way. Get him."

The body that landed on top of Drew was hauled off. A man knelt beside him to turn him over on his back. "Stay with me, Drew. We're going to get you out of here."

"Dana...Trey...Tell her...I love her."

"Drew, stay with me." Trey turned to strip the skirt from Cynthia Rand's body. He folded it and pressed it against Drew's wound. "Stay with me."

Drew closed his eyes as blackness closed in around him.

****

"Will you stop pacing?" Capt. Randolph scolded, "You will start an early labor. How far along are you?"

Dana sat down on one of the benches in the lounge. "Six months, give or take a week. I lost track of time when I was in captivity."

"A baby born that early could--could\--survive if the situation would be optimal. It isn't. I don't even know where the nearest hospital is."

"I'm all right," Dana assured her. "I'm just worried about Drew. With that explosion and all the shooting, someone has surely been wounded or killed."

"I know. I'm nervous, too"

Through the night came the call, "Ahoy there Fisherman's Joy. You are about to be boarded by Canadian marines and an alphabet of agents."

Dana jumped up and ran outside to wait along the rail as the sailors let down the chain ladder. The first one up was Sommerfield. "Where's the doc? I have work for her." His arm was band-aged with a scarlet stain seeping through.

Foster and Wilkins climbed aboard followed by four marines. They were all dressed in black with black grease paint on their faces.

"Where's Drew?" Dana cried.

Trey took her arm and led her aside. "Drew's on his way to the hospital. He's wounded very badly. I hope they get him there in time. Lieutenant Prescott is the only one who knew how to fly a chopper. Their pilot got killed in the firefight. You no longer have to worry about Drumheller, Pendrift and Curtis. Drew killed Drumheller and Pendrift. Curtis is on his way back to the U.S. to stand trial for a whole list of charges. So is Talbot."

"Where did they take Drew?" Dana wiped at her tears with her hand.

"To Belize City."

"Then that's where I want to be."

"The captain is getting the ship underway as we speak. Come along to the lounge. There will be a debriefing session that will be recorded."

"I don't have time for that..."

"You will make time for it." He slipped his arm around her shoulders and guided her through the door where Foster was getting a mug of coffee.

They were seated around the table in the lounge when they heard Ian's call and paused to listen. In a few minutes a sailor came in with Drew's duffel bag, briefcase and forensic kit. "I'll take charge of that," Trey said.

"Be sure to check out the contents." Gus indicated that Foster should speak next.

From the counter in the galley, Trey spoke, "Guns, badge, laptop, clothes and a picture of Dana. I guess nothing is missing." He came back to sit at the table. "One of us is going to have to take charge of Dana when we get to Belize City. We can't just leave her on her own."

"You just volunteered," Foster said. "I have other business to take care of." He looked over at Gus, "How about Trey go next? We need to get this business about how Drew got shot on tape. He's the one who was there."

Dana waited until Trey told his story before heading for the cabin Drew and Foster had shared. After she washed, Dana removed her soiled dress. Looking through Drew's clothes in the suitcase he'd left behind she found a pair of boxer-briefs. She donned them along with his white polo shirt. She would still need to wear the dress when morning came. Morning. It was already morning. She lay down on the bunk and was quickly asleep from sheer exhaustion. She didn't wake until Trey knocked on her door and told her they were coming into port.

She removed Drew's shirt and put on her soiled dress. There was just no help for it. She pulled Drew's shirt on over the dress. She was suddenly afraid to be seen in public but it was the only way she could leave the boat and get to the hospital. She sucked in a deep breath and opened the door.  
"Is there someone to carry Drew's luggage? We just can't leave it behind. This boat will be going back to Canada."

"I have my own luggage. I'll get one of the marines." Trey disappeared into the lounge. He was back in short order with Pvt. Ridgeway.

"I'm hungry," Dana said as she caught the aroma of bacon coming from the galley.

Trey stopped at the lounge doorway. "Is there any of that bacon left so Miss Terrell can have a sandwich?"

"You're lucky you hooted when you did," Pvt. Boyd King called back. "I was just about to finish it off. Here you are. A ready-made sandwich." The marine carried the sandwich to Dana.

"Thank you," Dana replied. She took a bite of the sandwich and followed Trey down the gangplank. Broadmour and a tall thin Negro stood at the bottom. She quickly learned the black man was a customs official. He checked and stamped each passport.

"What am I going to do?" she asked Trey. "I don't have a passport."

"Broadmour is already aware of that. I'm sure he will come up with something. After all you were brought to Belize against your will."

"Miss Terrell. So nice to meet you." Marcus held out his hand to her.

She took it timidly. "I don't have a passport."

"We are already aware of that. Do you know of any way you can prove you are who you say you are?"

"FBI Agent Foster knows me from when he spoke to me in Florida." She gave Foster a pleading look.

"I have a better way." Trey went to Drew's briefcase and took out his laptop. He brought up the enlarged Washington state driver's license.

The custom officer smiled. Taking out a notebook he wrote on a page, Dana Lynn Terrell, identity confirmed via driver's license. He wrote down the state and license number. Then he stamped it and handed it to Dana. "Have a pleasant visit, Miss."

"Take me to the hospital," she ordered Trey.

"Oh, no. First we go to the hotel to have a place to deposit our luggage. Then we are going shopping. You don't even have a pair of shoes." They walked along toward the road at the end of the pier.

She stopped at a booth where trinkets were on display for tourists. Dana saw just what she needed. "Give me a dollar," she commanded.

"What for?"

Dana sorted through a display of flip-flops to find her size. "Shoes." She took the dollar, paid the woman at the stand and asked for something to clip the plastic tie that held the flip-flops together.

The woman gave her a big smile and produced a small pair of scissors which she used to snip away the tie. Dana dropped the sandals on the pavement and slipped her feet into them.

"A step in the right direction." Trey slipped his arm around her shoulders. "We still need to get a room and shop for some decent clothes for you."

# Chapter 34

"I'm ready to go to the hospital." Dana wore the pink sundress Trey bought for her.

Trey stood up from the couch. He was showered and shaved. "We aren't going to the hospital. Drew isn't there anymore."

Dana gasped and her face went white. Trey stepped quickly to catch her before she hit the floor. He lifted her to the couch and knelt beside her. Patting her face, he tried to bring her around. "Dana. Dana."

She opened her eyes and took a moment to collect her thoughts. Trey apologized. "I'm sorry I said it like that. Drew isn't there because he's being air lifted to a trauma center in Houston, Texas."

She shoved him aside and sat up. "How long have you known this?"

"Foster called me while you were shopping." Trey stood up.

She came to her feet and slapped him hard. "Why didn't you tell me then? You knew and you didn't tell me." She punched him in the stomach. "You should have told me."

Trey grabbed her hands. She kicked him on the shin. "Dammit, Dana, listen to me. I didn't tell you because you would have wanted to be on that plane."

"You're damn right I would have." She tried to pull away.

He leaned down to be nose-to-nose with her. "Foster is on the plane. The reason he is on that plane is because he has the same blood type as Drew."

"Give me your cell phone so I can make plane reservations to go to Houston."

"How will you pay for it? Are you just going to leave Drew's baggage behind? You can't take those guns on an airliner. You'd be arrested."

"How..."

"An FBI plane should be here sometime late tonight or early in the morning. We'll hitch a ride with them. They're coming to pick up the bodies of Drumheller, Pendrift and Rand. They'll also take Talbot and Curtis back to the U.S. to stand trial. Gus, Robin and Muriel are going to be on that plane. Gus is supposed to call me as soon as they know when. Now that plane is headed for Washington, D.C. Maybe I can convince them to make a stop in Houston. It will change the flight plan but it shouldn't be any problem."

"What will you do if they won't take me to Houston?"

"Go to Washington and catch another flight to Houston. At least we'll be back in the states. Someone's at the door." Trey crossed to the door. "Who's is it?"

"Robin."

Trey unlocked the door and let her in. She set her suitcases just inside the door. "I got tired of Gus and Muriel. All they have on their minds is sex. I hope you don't mind if I wait here until that plane arrives."

"I don't mind. Dana?"

"I don't mind either. I'm beyond hungry. When can we get something to eat?"

"Do you want to go to the dining room or have room service bring it up?"

"Room service," Dana replied.

"Room service," Robin said.

"Room service it is." He walked to the table by the sliding door that led out to the balcony. "Here's the menu. I'll pay."

They all decided on fish and chips with a tropical fruit salad. The meal arrived in less than fifteen minutes. Trey and Robin chatted while they ate but Dana concentrated on the meal; the first full meal since her incarceration.

When they finished eating, Trey suggested, "We should try to rest up since we don't know what time that plane will get here. None of us got enough sleep last night."

"This morning," Robin corrected. "Day was breaking by the time we got to bed. How long do you think the flight to Washington will last?"

"I don't know. I'm going to try to get them to take Dana and me to Houston. That's where they took Drew."

Robin pursed her lips. "I could go to Houston. There's a DEA office there."

"I'm going to bed," Dana said and headed for her room.

"Care if I share your room?" Robin asked.

"I don't mind," Dana threw over her shoulder. Dana went to sleep quickly and woke up to the sound of voices in the living room. Male voices. She pulled on her dress and went quietly to see who was there. Robin was coming from the bedroom as Dana came from the bathroom.

"I hear voices," Robin said before she closed the door.

Dana went to the living room where Gus sprawled on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. Trey was at the other end of the couch, his hair mussed from sleep. On a chair across from them was an attractive blonde woman with a bandaged leg. Her crutches lay beside the chair.

Both men stood when Dana came into the room. Trey introduced the woman as Muriel Payne.

"Excuse me if I don't get up. My wound hurts too much."

"I don't mind." Dana went to the small refrigerator for a bottle of water.

"Could you bring me one, too, dearie," Muriel said with listless wave of her hand.

"Anyone else want water?" Dana asked.

"I do," Robin answered as she entered the room. "But I'm perfectly capable of getting it myself."

"What time is it?" Dana asked.

Gus glanced at his watch. "Six forty-one. Anyone besides me hungry?"

"I am," Dana asked. "After having nothing but bean burritos and soup for however long I was incarcerated, I want to make up for lost time. Besides, Captain Randolph told me I need to gain some weight."

"Dining room or room service?" Trey asked.

"Room service," Robin and Dana said together.

"Muriel and I are going to the dining room," Gus said.

"Speak for yourself," Muriel interposed. "I'm going to stay right here for a while."

"I'll stay with the ladies," Trey said as he got the menu.

"Damn. I don't want to go to the dining room myself," Gus complained.

"Then don't," Muriel said as she picked up her crutches and stood up. "I assume there are bathroom's here."

Dana pointed to the hallway that led to her bedroom and bath. That's when she noticed Gus' and Muriel's luggage piled just inside the door. "I take it we are all going to share this suite until time for that plane."

"You got it, lovey," Gus said with a grin.

"Don't call me that!" Dana shot back. "That's what Pendrift called me. I hate it!"

"Easy," Trey cautioned. "If we're all going to be here for the next few hours, we must try to get along."

Gus bowed to Dana, "Please accept my humble apologies for my unintentional slip of the tongue. How do you wish to be addressed?"

"My name is Dana Terrell."

Trey answered a call on his cell. "What?"

"Who is Drew's next of kin?" Foster asked again.

"I don't know. Maybe Dana does. She's right here." Trey handed Dana the phone. "Foster."

"Who's Drew's next of kin?" Foster asked.

Dana's face went white and she sat down suddenly. "W-why?"

"They want to know here at the hospital just in case."

She drew a deep breath to regain her composure. "His daughter. But she isn't born yet."

"Not funny. Any siblings?"

"A sister, Charlotte Weatherton. She's in Geneva, Switzerland."

"Do you have a phone number?"

"No, but I can probably get one. Give me a little bit to make a few calls. If I reach her what shall I tell her?"

"Tell her that Drew's been shot and is in the hospital in Houston, Texas." He gave her the name, address and phone number to get in touch with him.

"How is Drew?" she asked half afraid of what the answer might be.

"They took him right into surgery. You do know about the FBI plane, don't you?"

"Yes, we're all here together. If you want this information I must go. Goodbye." She disconnected.

She used Trey's phone to punch the numbers for Capt. Hallinan. "Hello, Matt. Do you have Charlotte Weatherton's phone number?"

"Yeah. Why do you need that? Drew got shot, didn't he? How bad?"

"They flew him to a trauma center in Houston, Texas. He's bad. I need to let Charlotte know."

"How are you?" Matt asked.

"I'm fine. I'm still here in Belize but I can't talk about it. It's classified."

Matt read off the number and she wrote it on the notebook Trey gave her. After she disconnected, she took several deep breaths before punching in Charlotte's number. When a woman's voice answered, she asked, "Charlotte?"

"Yes." The answer was wary. "Who's this?"

"Dana Terrell. I need to inform you that Drew's been shot. He's been transferred to a trauma unit in Houston, Texas. FBI Agent Foster just called me to tell me that they took Drew right into surgery as soon as he arrived. He said the hospital wants to know Drew's next of kin. I told him I would try to find you. I have to call him back."

"What the hell happened?" Charlotte demanded.

"I can't talk about it now. I'll tell you more when you get to Houston. I just hope I can be in Houston by then."

"Where are you?"

"Belize."

"What is going on?"

"That's classified. I'll tell you what I can when we meet in Houston." Dana disconnected. When Trey reached for his phone, she said, "One more phone call, please." Then she punched in the numbers. "Cass. This is Dana. Please don't cry. I'm fine."

"W-where are you?"

"Belize. I expect to get a plane for the states sometime tonight or tomorrow. Cass, Drew got shot. They flew him to a trauma unit in Houston." Dana couldn't hold back the tears. "When I get to Houston I want you to send my purse and some clothes."

"How's the baby?"

"She's fine, too. She just gave me a karate kick." Dana swiped at her tears with her hand. "I promise I'll call you as soon as I get to Houston."

"Is the number on the caller ID one I can call you at?"

"Probably. It's ATF Agent Trey Wilkins'. I told you about him."

"My God, girl. What are you into?"

"I can't tell you now. I really very, very hungry. I must go. I'll call you later. I love you. Bye." Dana disconnected. She was shaking uncontrollably as she handed Trey phone back. Then she ran for the bathroom. They could hear her throwing up.

"I'll go see about her." Robin stood up and headed for the bathroom.

Trey looked at Gus. "Post traumatic stress."

Gus nodded. "You have to admit she's been holding up rather well considering what she's been through. I think it will help a lot if we get her to Houston."

****

"Wake up, Dana." Trey shook her shoulder gently. "Fasten your seat belt. We're getting ready to land in Houston." She drew a deep breath when the plane set down and rolled to a stop.

"Passengers off first," one of the marshals ordered.

She left the plane with Trey and Robin. They were met by a man who flashed an FBI badge. "Foster told me to meet you."

"Can you tell me anything about my fiance', Drew Ward?" Dana pleaded.

"Only that they took him directly to surgery when he got here. Do you want me to take you to the same hotel where Foster is staying.?"

"That would be ideal," Trey said as he came up to them followed by two men with their luggage. He opened the back door for Dana and Robin before getting in the front passenger side. "How are we going to do this hotel room thing?"

"I'll share a room with Dana," Robin offered. "She can use my cell to call her friend."

"What time is it?" Dana asked.

"4:10 a.m." the FBI agent answered.

Dana yawned. "I think I better wait until later to call Cass. What time do you think we can get into the hospital to find out about Drew?"

"After we grab a few Z's and have breakfast. How about I ask for a wakeup call for nine?"

"Whatever," Dana returned. "Don't let me oversleep."

When Trey knocked on the door just after nine, Robin was up, showered and dressed in a white short-sleeved blouse and light blue skirt that was a bit rumpled from having been packed in her bag for so long.

"Where's Dana?" Trey asked.

"Showering."

"Tell her I'll give her fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes for what?" Dana walked from the bathroom, her hair wet but combed. "All ready for breakfast. Then I want to get to the hospital to see Drew. No more stalling on your part Agent Wilkins."

He grinned and bowed to her. "I'm ready when you are, Miss Terrell. Or is it Miss Blum this morning?"

"Drew said he likes Dana better. I must find out what my legal name is. Everything in Spokane, my business, my house, my bank account are all under the name Dana Terrell."

"Whether it's Dana or Toni I'm sure the last name will soon be Ward. Let's go eat."

After they ate, Trey flagged down a taxi and held the back door for Dana while Robin opened the passenger side front door. "I hope you don't mind if I ride up here."

"You're packin' a gun," the driver noted.

"I'm a federal agent," she told him. "There's another federal agent in the back seat. Please take me to the federal building."

"Someone better swipe a credit card or we ain't goin' nowhere. I don't take cash no more'n I have to. Too many robberies."

Trey slid his card through the slot. "After you drop Agent Allen at the federal building you need to take me and this little lady to the hospital." Trey told him which one.

"I hope she ain't in labor. I don't want my cab all messed up."

"Not in labor," Trey assured him. "Her fiance' is in the hospital."

As soon as she was inside the hospital entrance, Dana went to the Information desk to inquire where Drew was. Trey stayed beside her but he didn't interfere. He seemed to understand the pressure she was under. She knew Trey cared for her but he knew that Drew was the one she loved. He'd told her to think of him as her big brother. But she couldn't keep relying on him. He had a job to get back to.

She needed to plan on living independently until Drew was out of the hospital. To do that, she needed her purse. She had to get situated in an efficiency apartment or a motel room that included a kitchenette. Then she would have an address for Cass to send her purse and some of her clothes.

The ding as the elevator stopped on the third floor roused her out of her thoughtfulness. This time Trey took the lead to the trauma unit.

She walked up to the nurse at the station and asked, "Will you please tell me where Drew Ward is?"

The nurse was a slim dark-haired women whose name tag said Wendy Hartman. "Are you a relative?"

"I'm his fiancee'." She pointed at her baby bump. "She's his daughter."

The nurse chuckled and pointed to the left. "He's right in there, room three."

Drawing a deep breath, Dana walked to the room like one in a trance. The man in the bed looked nothing like Drew. His head was bandaged and his face, purple with bruises from the beating Curtis and Drumheller gave him, was half covered by a mask.

She walked over slowly and took his hand which was tied down with strips of cloth. "Why...why are his hands tied down?"

The nurse had followed them to the room. "He keeps trying to pull the mask away from his face. That C-pap mask is what breathes for him. He was awake earlier but was in terrific pain so I gave him an injection. He'll probably sleep a couple of hours. If you want to come back..."

"I'm not going anywhere," Dana asserted.

# Chapter 35

"Will you be okay here alone?" Trey asked. "I need to touch base with ATF here in Houston."

"I'll be fine," Dana said. "Will you please pick up one of those cheap cell phones for me."

After Trey left, Dana caressed Drew's arm. She kissed his face, touched his head and whispered, "I love you," in his ear. When she tired of standing she sat down in a chair near his bed and prayed. She did some hard thinking about what she needed to do. It was obvious that she would be in Houston for some time. To do that she needed her credit and debit cards so she could spend her own money.

She had been so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice the doctor enter the room until he spoke to the nurse. "We should take that bandage off his head so that wound can get some air. It will heal faster." He began to unwind the gauze that held the non-stick bandage in place.

Dana stood and walked over to the bedside. "Is there some other way to keep him breathing than that mask? It must hurt to have that pressure on those bruises."

The nurse, a different one then the one who was there when they came in, gave the doctor a questioning look. "He's doing really well."

Dr. Faulk studied the monitor. "I think we can try just an oxygen line."

While the nurse went to get what was required, Dr. Faulk looked around at Dana. "How are you related to the patient?"

"I'm his fiancee'."

"Can you tell me what happened to him beyond 'He got shot'?"

"I wasn't actually there at the time but I have been told. To put it succinctly, the two men who shot him are dead. One shot him in the head and he returned fire. The other shot him in the side and Drew shot him, too. If you want to know more you must ask ATF Special Agent Trey Wilkins. He was there at the time. He shot the woman who was going to fire the kill shot at Drew. It's classified and I don't know how much I can say about it."

The doctor and nurse hooked up the oxygen line that fed to needed gas into Drew's nose. "He seems to be holding his own," Dr. Faulk said as he watched the monitor.

"Will he be all right?" Dana wanted to know.

"Good as new as long as there aren't any unforeseen complications."

Drew moaned and his eyelids flickered. "Water."

The nurse hurried to get Drew a drink. She raised his head and held the cup to his lips.

Dana walked around to the other side of the bed. "Hello, Drew."

He blinked. "Dana? Oh, Dana." He reached over the bed rail for her. "Come here, darling. Kiss me."

She put the rail down so she could reach him and leaned to kiss him. He put his hand behind her head and held her there until she pulled away. "How do you feel?"

"I'm hungry."

"Are you in pain?" Dr. Faulk asked.

"Yes. But I'm more hungry. Can I have something to eat?"

"We'll start you off with liquids and see how you do. You can't have any foods that are hard to chew because you have a hairline fracture of your left cheekbone. If you want, we can change your pain medications to pills."

"Yeah. That'll work." Drew kept his arm around Dana's waist. After the doctor left, Drew said, "Stay with me, Dana. I need you here."

"I'll stay as much as I can but I must find somewhere to live other than a hotel room. I need to call Cass to send my purse and some of my clothes. All I have right now are the dresses Trey bought for me in Belize. I must do some laundry. And, my lover, I need to eat. I am already hungry and it isn't even lunch time yet."

"What happened to my things?"

"They're in the hotel room I shared with Robin last night. Including your guns."

"My wallet?"

"It's there."

"There should be some money in it. Take it and use it for what you need. My credit and debit cards are in it, too. Feel free to use them. I'm going to take care of you from now on. I certainly can afford it. Now, have you called Charlotte?"

"Yes. She said she'd be here as quickly as she can."

The nurse came back with a large white pill. "Oxycodone," she said. She held the cup for him to drink after he popped the pill in his mouth. "Wendy's getting you a liquid lunch," she said before leaving.

Wendy came in a few minutes later with a tray of plastic containers. "Apple juice, beef broth, Jell-o and tea."

"How about coffee?" Drew asked.

"Tea is all you get right now. We'll see how it goes."

After consuming his liquid lunch Drew got sleepy from the pill he took. "Stay with me, Dana."

"I'm here," she assured him.

After he went to sleep, she asked a nurse how to get an outside line from the phone that was in the bed rail on the right side of his bed. Then she called Trey's cell phone number. "You told me to call if I need anything. Do you know where I can find Robin? I need to get into her room to get Drew's wallet."

"Robin's already on her way to Mobile. We put your stuff and Drew's in my room. That's where I am now."

"Please bring his wallet to the hospital. I'm hungry and I don't have any money. He told me to use his."

"He's awake then."

"Not now. He took something for pain. He was awake for a while. The doctor said he'll be all right. I need something to eat and I need to talk to you."

"I'll pick you up in a while and we'll go for lunch but I'll have to be back at the federal building this afternoon."

****

Drew opened his eyes and looked for Dana. What he saw was a note taped to the bed rail: Went to lunch. Be back soon. Love you. Dana. He wondered how she went to lunch if she didn't have any money. The clock on the wall showed that it was nearing one o'clock. Where did she go? Who was she with?

A short time later Dana walked into the room followed by Trey. A frown knit Drew's eyebrows. "Where the hell were you?"

She laid his wallet on the tray-table. "I told you I was hungry. Trey took me to lunch. There were things I needed to talk to him about. Like how do I go about finding out what my legal name is. He told me to contact Foster at the FBI. I plan to do that later this afternoon. I have his cell phone number. Stop frowning. It makes you look like you're in pain."

"I am."

Trey came to the other side of the bed and took Drew's hand. "You look a lot better than you did in Belize. I was afraid you were dead when they carried you out. Lieutenant Prescott flew Talbot's helicopter to take you and Muriel to the hospital."

"Muriel?"

"She took one in the thigh. Until this business is all figured out it's classified. So don't go telling any of these pretty nurses about it."

"The last thing I remember is you saying, 'Stay with me.' "

"You didn't. You passed out. I need to go to Atlanta tomorrow. My mother's having heart surgery. I'd like to get Dana situated so she'll be close to the hospital so she can come to see you as often as she wants to. I'm glad you told her to use your money. I won't have to worry about her. I probably won't be coming back to Houston. I'm going to take time off to stay with Mom until she's back on her feet."

"Don't worry about Dana," Drew assured him. "I'll take care of her."

"Sure you will. You can't even take care of yourself right now," Dana asserted. "I'll take care of myself. I'm going to spend some of your money on clothes. I need to get an address so Cass can send my purse. I don't even have an ID. I'd like to stay with you all the time but I really need to take care of these things. I'll be here until the next time you fall asleep. I love you. I'm going to take care of you."

Drew's smile looked more like a grimace. "I won't argue with that. I wonder if I could get them to give me a coffee."

"I'll see you later. Dana, make him behave." With a wave of his hand Trey walked out.

After a pain pill, Drew fell asleep. Dana kissed his cheek and went to a nearby waiting room to call Cass. "I just want to tell you I won't need you to send any clothes. Just my purse. As soon as I have an address."

"How's Drew doing?"

Dana chuckled. "He's being his usual stubborn self. He's finally talked them into giving him coffee. They've upgraded his diet from liquid to soft. They won't give him anything he has to chew yet because his cheekbone is fractured. I daren't tell you much because it's still classified. The FBI wants to talk to me. I told Trey to tell them to come here. I want to spend all the time I can with Drew. He's getting grumpy about the restrictions. The doctor said they might move him out of the trauma care tomorrow. Gotta go, Cass." Dana disconnected and ran to catch up with the woman and teen-age boy she'd seen walk past.

"Charlotte, wait."

Charlotte stopped and turned around. "Dana. Where's Drew?"

"Come with me. He's sleeping right now. I'll warn you ahead of time. He's kind of grouchy."

"I take it then that he's going to survive."

"Yes. Don't be shocked when you see him. He's been badly beaten so that his face is purple. His one eye is swollen. It's not quite as bad as it was yesterday. They've been putting ice on it."

"You didn't tell me you're pregnant. It is Drew's, isn't it?"

"Of course. There isn't even another possibility. A little girl." When they walked into the room, Drew was still asleep. Dana shook him gently. "Drew, wake up. Charlotte's here."

He opened his eyes groggily. "Charlotte."

The shock showed on Charlotte's face when she saw her younger brother with his face covered in bruises and stitches in his head. Part of his head was shaved, the other half was covered in hair that stuck out in every direction. A week's growth of beard covered his cheeks and chin. She forced a smile and leaned down to hug him. "You need to find another line of work."

"I know. I've been thinking of turning in my badge. Right now I just want to get out of here."

"Not until the doctor says so," Dana cut in. "I don't want to lose you after what we've been through."

Jim stepped up to the other side of his uncle's bed. "Hello, Uncle Drew."

Drew looked at his nephew. "I think you've grown some since the last time I saw you."

"I'm six feet tall now. I'll be starting college in the fall."

"What are you studying?"

"Law."

"He's been accepted at Harvard," Charlotte bragged.

Drew took his sister's hand. "Charlotte, I need you to do me a big favor. Take Dana shopping and get her some clothes."

"Who's paying?"

"I am." He picked up his wallet. "If there isn't enough money in here, use my credit card. Another thing, she needs a place to stay. She spent last night with Robin Allen, a DEA agent, but Robin left for Alabama today. No way is she spending the night in Trey's room."

"Don't you trust me?" Dana asked.

"I trust you. I don't trust him. He's already admitted to me that he has a thing for you..."

"We agreed to a truce back in March. We can be friends as long as he doesn't hit on me. He knows that you are the man for me. But I agree that it wouldn't be right for me to stay in his room. I can use your credit card to get myself a room."

"I don't want you being alone. Haven't you spent enough time alone?"

"She can stay with us in our suite," Charlotte offered. "You ready to go shopping, Dana?"

"Not really but I do need some clothes. And Drew needs a hat."

Drew handed Dana his wallet. "Get all you need. I may not be able to care for you physically but I can financially."

She leaned to kiss him. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Is there anything you want?"

"A chocolate milkshake."

She chuckled. "The temp's above a hundred. It will melt before I get it here."

"Then I'll have chocolate milk."

"Mom, I'll stay here with Uncle Drew. I want to talk to him about guy things."

"Are you sure you just don't want to follow along after a couple women shopping for clothes?" Charlotte asked.

Jim grinned. "That, too."

****

"Nice hat." Jim stood up as Dana came into the room.

Dana wore the hat pushed back on her head because it was too big for her. "It's for Drew. I think when he leaves the hospital, he'll want to hide what they did to his hair." She set two milkshakes on the tray table beside bed where Drew was sound asleep. "How long has he been sleeping?"

"About two hours. Is one of those milkshakes for me?"

"No. One's for me and one's for Drew. He said he wants a milkshake."

"Then I'm going home. I'm hungry."

"Jim!" They hadn't noticed that Drew was awake. "Stay here. I want you to escort Dana home. I don't want her out in a strange city alone at night."

"I'm hungry. I haven't eaten since noon."

"Dana, do you have my wallet?"

"Right here in my little ole purse." She opened the small gray leather purse that hung on her shoulder from a slender strap. She handed Jim a twenty. "There must be a cafeteria or snack bar somewhere in this building." She turned back to Drew. "I brought you a milkshake. Coffee ice cream with chocolate syrup."

"I thought you'd be back sooner." He pushed the button to raise the bed to a higher sitting position before picking up the shake.

"I had to wait for Trey. He brought our things from his hotel room. He'd already checked out and is on his way to Atlanta. Charlotte didn't come with me because she was so tired after flying from Geneva to Nashville and then on to Houston. She said she was going to shower, order something from room service and go to bed.

"She really helped me a lot this afternoon. I spent about five hundred dollars of your money."

A nurse brought in his food tray. "Aha! I caught you cheating on your diet."

"I not cheating," he responded. "This is soft food. Looks better than what you just brought in." He lifted the metal cover from his plate. "Tuna salad sandwich, mashed potatoes with gravy. What's this?"

"Pureed asparagus."

"That doesn't even sound good but I'll eat it because I'm hungry." He winked at Dana. "Maybe I should save it for Jim." He set the milkshake aside and picked up half of the sandwich, examining it for toothpicks."

He'd just taken a bite when the doctor walked in. "How are you doing, Mr. Ward?"

"That's Lieutenant Ward," Dana corrected.

The doctor saluted. "My mistake. What branch of service are you in?"

Drew grinned. "NYPD homicide."

"Why is a New York cop in a Houston hospital with bullet wounds?"

"I was on the trail of a murderer. He may have gotten the first shot but he'll never get another."

"You killed him?"

"Dead as a doornail. It really was self defense."

"I reported this to the Houston police. It's required by law."

"I know. The FBI handled it."

Dana said, "They did?"

"Umhm. Foster was in. He wants to talk to you."

"I told Trey to tell him if he wants to talk to me he can come here. I'm not going to him."

The doctor leaned down to view the jar that caught the liquid from the drainage tube in Drew's chest. The doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully before saying to the nurse who followed him in. "I think that drainage tube can be taken out. I'll do that while you take the catheter out." He directed his gaze to Drew. "That should make you a little more comfortable."

"I'd just like to be able to change positions. My back is hurting pretty bad."

"When we're done here, we'll see about turning you onto your right side. You're improving really fast. Maybe we can move you up to a special care unit tomorrow."

# Chapter 36

"I thought Dana would be here." Foster walked up to Drew's bed and held out his hand. "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you."

Drew took his hand in a firm grip. "They tell me I owe my life to you."

Foster grinned. "All I did was lie there and let them take my blood."

"How much?"

"Two pints. After the second one they gave me plasma. I felt a little weak for a while but I'm okay now."

"Foster!" Dana rushed forward to hug him. "Thank you for what you did for Drew. I was afraid I lost him."

"Not just me," Derek said. "Trey, too. If he hadn't shot Talbot's sister, Drew would never have made it to the hospital. And Lieutenant Prescott. He flew the helicopter that took Drew and Muriel to the hospital.

"And now, young lady, I need to talk to you to get a statement."

Dana dug in her purse and came up with a memory stick which she held out to Foster. "It's all on here. I'm forgetting my manners. Charlotte, this is FBI Special Agent Derek Foster. Foster, this is Drew's sister, Charlotte Weatherton and her son, Jim."

A nurse came in the room pushing a wheelchair. "Mr. Ward, you are going for a ride down to Radiology to see how much that lung's expanded."

"I'll walk along," Charlotte offered.

"Dana, we can go to the waiting room to talk," Foster suggested.

"Is it all right if I tag along?" Jim asked. "Or am I supposed to stand here and twiddle my thumbs?"

"Come along," Dana said. She looked at Foster. "He already knows everything. He helped me with the statement on that flash drive."

For the next week, Dana spent all the time she could at the hospital with Drew. Sometimes, Jim accompanied her; sometimes Charlotte did. Sometimes she came alone which brought objections from Drew. "I told Jim I don't want you out alone. I don't want anything to happen to you. What do I need to do? Hire a bodyguard?"

"I agreed to marry you," Dana shot back. "That doesn't give you the right to plan every minute of every day for me."

Drew closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. "It's because I love you. We don't know if Talbot's got anyone out there looking for revenge. I don't want to lose you and our little girl."

Dana laid her hand on her belly. All at once she gasped. "That was a karate kick. When this kid's born, you'll have to arrest her for aggravated assault."

That brought a chuckle from Drew and their argument was ended.

"Oh, Cass sent my purse to me so now I have a valid ID. Foster said as things now stand my legal name is Dana Terrell. I had Cass put something else in my purse for me." She brought out a ring box. "It was my mother's. I...I don't know if you'd mind...I mean...I know you didn't buy it, but would you care to use it for my engagement and wedding rings?"

"I'd be honored."

She took out the engagement ring and handed it to him. He grinned at her. "I can't get down on my knees, but will you marry me?"

"Yes!"

He slipped the ring on her finger and pulled her down to kiss her to the sound of clapping. They looked around at two nurses standing at the foot of his bed.

"If I had a cell phone I'd tell you to take a picture," he said while Dana stood there blushing.

One nurse took her cell phone out of her pocket. "Another kiss." After she took the picture, she said, "I'll have a printout to you before you get discharged in the morning. Your x-rays this morning were good. The doctor will be around shortly to do the paperwork."

****

"I hear you're looking for an experienced detective," Drew held out his hand to Capt. Matt Hallinan.

Matt came to his feet and stretched his arm across the desk to grasp Drew's hand. "How are you? I heard you got shot up pretty bad in Belize."

"I'm okay now. I just came by to turn in my badge. I can't afford to lose any more pieces of my lungs." Drew held up his left hand to show the wedding ring on his finger. "I have a wife to take care of. Next month I'll be a father."

"How is Dana?"

"Fine. She's a bit uncomfortable with her pregnancy but she doesn't have much longer to wait. She's at my apartment supervising the movers with the packing. I put the apartment on the market. We'll be living in Nashville for the time being."

"What do you plan to do with the rest of your life other than make babies with Dana?"

Drew chuckled. "Maybe I'll hang up my shingle as a psychologist. Or maybe I'll take a position lecturing at a University for a Criminal Justice class. I haven't decided yet. But whatever I do, I'll going to keep Dana close. She's been through enough. She doesn't need the worry about whether I'll get shot and not come home."

That evening when the packing was done and the movers gone home for the night, Drew and Dana lay side by side in the king size bed. Dana kissed his lips. "I may never get all my memory back, but I have enough to go on. We'll just have to make some new ones." She grimaced and laid her hand on her abdomen. "That was a karate kick."

Drew chuckled. "She should have strong legs by the time she's born."

###

Look for my other novels, No Plans for Love, Fires of Revenge and A Cowboy's Love
