2

She woke with a start to full darkness.

Monty was barking, jumping back and forth on the back seat, trying to climb up to the back window.

She shook her head to clear it. "What's wrong with him?" "I don't know." Sarah was looking at her rearview mirror.

"Maybe he doesn't like that asshole tailgating me."

Alex glanced behind her at the two brilliant headlights glaring from the car behind them. "Monty's smart, but I doubt if he's aware of traffic violations, Sarah."

"You never know." She frowned. "It's not like him to-" Her expression cleared. "The idiot's passing me, thank God. I'm going to let him do it. I don't know what his hurry is; I'm doing the speed limit. You'd think that-" Monty lunged over to the side window, and his barking became frantically shrill as the car pulled almost even with them. "Easy, boy. It's okay."

But it wasn't okay. Alex caught a glint of metal in the hand of the shadowy figure driving the other car. Oh, God, a gun. "Duck!" She reached over and pushed Sarah down and against the door.

The glass shattered.

Sarah gasped as the bullet struck her. Blood stained the shoulder of her sweater as she slumped forward.

The jeep skidded across the tarmac, the headlights spear ing the valley hundreds of feet below.

Alex grabbed the steering wheel, her foot reaching over to stomp on the brake as the jeep plunged offthe mountain road.

Death.

They were going to die.

The jeep plunged down the steep, rocky slope toward the waiting darkness.

The jeep stopped abruptly. Alex realized dazedly that it had hit a tree.

Monty was crawling over the back of the front seat, trying desperately to get to Sarah.

Sarah.

Blood was still running down Sarah's arm and she was slumped against the door.

"Sarah…" She had to get Sarah out of the car and try to stop the bleeding.

She opened the passenger door and started to get out. Nothing was beneath her feet.

She looked down and swallowed hard as shock ran through her. The jeep was balanced on a jutting outcrop of the mountain, hundreds of feet above the valley. The vehicle had only been stopped from catapulting over the ledge by a scrawny pine tree balanced precariously at the edge of the slope. There was no way they could get out the passenger door. She reached over Sarah and pushed at her door. It opened a crack and then stuck. She opened the window. "Out, boy."

He didn't move.

"Dammit, out! I have to get her out of here!"

Monty looked at her a moment and then jumped out the window.

Alex crawled over Sarah. Monty was sitting quietly beside the car and whined when she wriggled out the window.

"I know. We'll get her out." She pulled the door, trying to get leverage to open it. It moved only a few inches. She pulled again, using all her strength. The door opened another foot. It would have to do.

She grabbed Sarah under the armpits and tugged. Awkward. So damn awkward. She tugged again. What if she was causing Sarah to bleed more? Don't think about it. What else could she do? If that tree gave way, the jeep might topple over at any minute.

So get her out of the car. Get her against the cliff wall.

It took her another few minutes to pull Sarah out of the car and drag her across the ledge to comparative safety under the outcropping of the cliff wall.

Monty sat down beside Sarah and looked pleadingly at Alex.

"I know. I'll try to help her." She opened Sarah's sweater and then her blouse. The wound was high and the bleeding wasn't as bad as she'd feared, she realized with relief. "Stay with her, Monty."

She went back to the jeep, grabbed Sarah's handbag, and pulled out her cell phone.

Call 911. Tell them to come.

Tell them they had to come and save Sarah.

The 911 operator was quick and efficient, and it was frustrating how little information Alex could give her. "I don't know where I am. Somewhere on Highway 30 between Denver and Arapahoe Junction. I told you, I woke up and-"

Someone was shining a flashlight down at them from the road above.

A man was silhouetted against the headlights of the car behind him.

Monty growled.

Her heart jumped. Keep calm. Don't panic. He would have a difficult time reaching them even if he tried to descend the steep slope. And an accurate shot would be nearly impossible from that almost vertical angle.

"I'll keep my cell line open," she said to the 911 operator. "See if you can trace it. Maybe you can at least zero in on the closest tower." She drew Monty closer to the cliff wall next to Sarah and hopefully out of range of that bastard above.

What if he did try to come down? She had no weapon. She'd left her gun behind in the trailer. God, she felt helpless. Like a sitting duck.

She wasn't helpless, dammit. She would hear that bastard on the rock and she would fight. If nothing else, she'd tackle him or push him off the damn mountain. She ran to the jeep, got the first-aid kit and blanket out of the back. A weapon. What could she use as a weapon? The small shovel Sarah al ways kept in her vehicles. She grabbed the shovel and ran back to Sarah.

She dressed Sarah's wound and covered her. Sweet Jesus, why didn't she regain consciousness? Alex drew her protectively closer.

But her other hand tightened on the shovel.

Arapahoe Junction

A tall, muscular man straightened away from the door to Sarah's hospital room as Alex came down the hall. "Ms. Graham? I'm John Logan."

She recognized him immediately from the photos Sarah had shown her. But the photographs couldn't capture the sheer dominant presence of the man. He had been frantic when Alex phoned him when they'd gotten to the hospital a few hours ago. Now he was fully in control and chilly, very chilly. How could she blame him, she thought wearily. He probably thought she was at fault for Sarah's injury, and he was right. "The doctors say that Sarah will be fine. She'll be out of here in a few days, but it will take another couple months to fully recuperate."

"I know all that." His words were curt. "What I don't know is how I'm supposed to make sure she has the time to recuperate."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Sarah tells me you're a good friend. Then you should know that her life is rescue. She needs to help people." His lips tightened. "And it seems you're the current project."

"I told her I didn't want her involved."

"And did she listen? No, of course not. You're not only in trouble, you're her friend." His tone became harsher. "Well, be a friend and get the hell out of her life for a while."

Alex nodded. "I'll talk to her again."

"Haven't you been listening to me? That won't do the job. You've got to be tucked away safe somewhere so that she can get well without worrying about you. Have you got that?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't know what the devil you're talking about."

"I'm saying that I can't have you running around with peo ple shooting at you."

She grimaced. "I assure you that I'd like to avoid that too."

"Good. Then here's what we're going to do. I'm going to talk to the FBI and arrange for them to put you in a safe house while they investigate both the helicopter crash and the attempt on your and Sarah's lives. You'll be comfortable and secure and it will solve-" He stopped as he saw her shaking her head. "Why the hell not?"

"I have a job to do too. I can't hide. I'll be careful and I'll accept FBI surveillance, but I won't crawl in a hole and let those bastards intimidate me."

"You think that damn story is worth the risk?"

"I think finding the people who hurt my friend is worth the risk. And if they also caused that landslide and dam break, there's no question. I don't think you'd let yourself be hidden away, would you?"

"I'd do anything I had to do to save Sarah." He stared her directly in the eye. "Under other circumstances I might ad mire your attitude, but I can't have you getting in the way. I love my wife and I won't have her hurt again."

"She won't be hurt. I promise. I won't let her near me."

"That's not good enough." He muttered an oath. "Don't you think I'm going to go after the bastards who shot Sarah? But I can't do it now. I have to get her well first. Leave it to me." She shook her head.

He drew a deep breath. "Think about it. Reconsider. I'm taking Sarah to our place by the ocean. When she gets well enough to ask questions, I want to be able to tell her you're absolutely safe."

"I'm sorry. There's no use talking anymore. I can't do it." A multitude of expressions flitted over his face as he watched her open the door. "Believe me, I'm sorry too."

He turned and strode toward the policeman standing guard down the hall.

That had almost sounded like a threat, Alex thought. Logan clearly liked his own way and was terribly concerned about Sarah. Well, so was she. She had been terrified all the way to the hospital until she'd gotten the word that Sarah was going to be all right.

Sarah's eyes were closed as Alex approached the bed. But she must have sensed a presence, for her lids lifted. "Hi."

"How do you feel?"

"Blurry. They've got me doped up." Her voice was slurred.

"I think… Was John here?"

"Yes."

"Good. Always wanted you to meet him." "I'd rather it not have been like this."

"Where's Monty?"

"He's curled up beside your bed. I raised hell until they let him stay. It helped that they knew you were one of the search-and-rescue teams. You and the other rescue workers are their heroes."

"Bull. But thanks for Monty…" She yawned. "Sleepy." "I'll get out of here. I just wanted to see- I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Fine…" Her eyes were closing. Then she suddenly came awake. "Who was it? Who tried to hurt you?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. He was gone by the time the fire department came."

"Tell John. You could be… Might happen again."

"Hey, I'm fine. Leopold called in the FBI and I'm going to be positively surrounded." She brushed the hair from Sarah's face. "And you were the one who got shot."

"Bad aim?"

"He probably aimed for you because he wanted the car to go off the cliff and explode. There wouldn't have been much evidence left." She leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Now stop worrying and go to sleep. Everything will be fine. I'm going to go now. Leopold wants me to talk to Bob Jurgens, some FBI agent."

"Good. But tell John." She was dozing off again. "He'll fix it. He's good at fixing things."

Alex had a sudden memory of Logan's grim expression when she'd told him that she wasn't going to do what he wanted. "I'm sure he is," she murmured as she headed for the door. "And I imagine he's pretty good at breaking things too."

Sarah was sleeping.

Logan sat down in the visitor's chair and covered her hand with his own. God, she looked fragile.

Don't panic. The doctor said she was going to be fine.

He'd better be right. Logan wouldn't be able to stand it if

Sarah was taken from

Stop it. She was going to get well.

Monty whimpered, got up, and put his chin on Logan's knee.

"Shh." He stroked the dog's head. "We've got to let her sleep. We have to take care of her, boy."

And he would take care of her. This wasn't going to happen again. He couldn't take any chance of Sarah being hurt. He would stay here beside her for a little while, holding her hand and celebrating the fact that she was alive and still with him.

And then he would phone Galen.

The White House

3:35 A.M.

"Could I speak to you for a moment, Mr. President?" Andreas leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

God, he was tired. He must be getting old. "As long as you're not here to tell me there's been another bombing, Keller. I'm not up to that right now."

The Secret Service man smiled faintly as he shook his head. "I beg to disagree. I've known you too long, sir. In an emergency you bounce right back."

"Your confidence is gratifying," Andreas said dryly. "If to tally misplaced. Why are you here, Keller?"

"It's the trip to Arapahoe Junction, sir. There have been some developments that make me uneasy. I want to cancel your visit."

Andreas stiffened. "What developments?"

"I told you about the recent landslide. It's not safe."

"Bullshit." His gaze narrowed on Keller's face. "You told me that the dam disaster was probably caused by an earthquake. This second landslide seems to indicate an aftershock. Has anything changed?"

"No, it's the most likely explanation. There doesn't appear to be anything suspicious."

"Well, I want to go there and see for myself."

"Sir, we weren't compromised."

"Compromised? What a nice clean word when you're talk ing about the death of over a hundred people." He met Keller's gaze. "I'll accept the possibility that natural disasters happen. I won't accept the possibility that we may not be exploring every avenue to determine that's what it really was."

"The CIA assures me that there's absolutely no sign there was terrorist involvement at Arapahoe Dam. Ben Danley says Cordoba and his Matanza group were too busy staging the bombing in Mexico City. They may be widespread, but it would take enormous resources to attack us on our own turf.

That hasn't been their modus operandi in the past."

"That doesn't mean they can't change. Maybe they're graduating to the big leagues."

"Mexico City was fairly big league, sir," Keller said quietly. "Two of our embassy workers were killed. I know it pales in comparison to Arapahoe Junction, but I'd say Matanza was stepping up to the-"

"I know," Andreas said. "I wasn't thinking." He was so tired it was difficult to focus. "So tell me the real reason you don't want me to go to Arapahoe Dam."

Keller hesitated. "It's not just this trip. I believe you should stick close to the White House for the next few months.

I've proved I can keep you safe here. We've managed to foil two attempts on your life since the last election."

"And I'm duly grateful." He grimaced. "I'm particularly grateful you managed to keep the attempts from Chelsea."

"I don't want gratitude for doing my job. I'm only saying that the Matanza threats against you are becoming increasingly frequent and pointed. There'll come a time when Cordoba and his group will have to put up or shut up and lose face among their fellow terrorists. I think that time is very

" near.

"So do I."

"Then don't go. The Vice President can make the trip. You know he's offered to go wherever we think there may be a threat to you."

"And I let Shepard stand in for me at two hot spots I'd rather have handled myself."

"But it would be perfectly logical to let him go to Arapahoe.

He's already visited there once with Homeland Security, right after the break. This would just be a follow-up. You could empower him to do anything you would do."

"We don't even know that there is a threat at Arapahoe. And I'm not going to let just the possibility that it might have been Matanza change my schedule. I've cooperated, I've given in to your restrictions more than I like, Keller. Since you have no proof, I'm going to Arapahoe Dam as planned." He smiled as he bent over his desk. "It's your baby. Protect me. I guarantee my wife will have your head if I lose mine."

He sighed. "I don't have the slightest doubt of that, Mr. President."

Ben Danley got to his feet as Keller came out of Andreas's office. "No luck?"

Keller shook his head. "He's going." He grimaced. "I might have had a leg to stand on if you and your CIA buddies hadn't sworn that Matanza had nothing to do with the dam break. Want to change your mind?"

Danley shook his head. "I have to call them the way I see them. Unless new evidence surfaces, I have to stand by my intelligence reports."

"Well, your intelligence reports could have been a little timelier about the Mexico City bombing."

"I don't have to take that from you, Keller," he said coldly.

"You have no idea the problems we're facing."

"If I did, then I'd be better able to make judgment calls.

Under Homeland Security we're supposed to be one big happy family." He waved his hand as Danley opened his mouth to reply. "I don't give a damn about anything the CIA does as long as you don't get in my way." He jerked his thumb at the door to Andreas's office. "I like that stubborn son of a bitch. I'm going to make sure he stays alive."

"How do you expect to do that if you can't even keep him from wandering all over the country?" Danley didn't wait for a reply as he headed for the door. "If there's any change in the situation, I'll let you know."

Danley waited until he was driving down Pennsylvania Avenue before he placed the call to Betworth. "He's going to Arapahoe. Since there's no proof of sabotage, Keller couldn't talk him out of it."

"I didn't think he'd be able to do it," Betworth said. "Naturally Andreas would be suspicious. I thought the seismograph report might allay some of it, but evidently…" He was silent a moment, thinking. "And this Alex Graham business is troubling. I believe we'll have to do some adjusting to our plans. I'll let you know." He hung up.

Stockton, Maine

The muscles of Judd Morgan's spine tightened as he felt eyes watching him from outside the open window.

Runne?

He bent over the canvas, listening.

No, not Runne.

There wasn't enough purple in the shadow of the man's cloak. He added the smallest brush stroke before he called, "What the hell are you doing here, Galen?"

"How did you know it was me?"

He turned to face the window. "I know your footsteps."

Galen chuckled. "And that's why you left all those fallen leaves spread on the ground in front of the window." He hoisted himself onto the windowsill and swung his legs over. "Snap, crackle, pop. Did I crunch loud enough for you?"

"You know you did." Sean Galen could be as quiet and lethal as a panther when he made the effort. "You sounded like a hippopotamus."

"I thought it wise to let you know I was coming. I've seen you react to the unexpected, and Elena wants me to come back in one piece."

"How is Elena?"

"Fine. Strong. BeautifuL" "LethaL"

"Only when she's betrayed. You're lucky she didn't follow you and cut your throat."

Judd shrugged. "I did what I had to do. I tried to make sure no one was hurt."

"And that you got away with thirty million in drug money."

"I needed it." He set his brush down. "Is that why you're here? You want to save Elena the trouble of getting even?"

Galen shook his head. "She wouldn't thank me for doing that. You'll be glad to know she's looking forward, not back, these days."

"I am glad." He smiled. "And relieved. I like Elena." His smile faded. "And I like you, Galen. I'm sorry I had to disappoint you. You know why I had to have the money."

"You needed bribe money to get the CIA's hit men to take the sanction off you. Dammit, I was trying to pull strings to get you clear. Why couldn't you wait?"

"It was taking too long. Another three months and they would have found me. They needed a scapegoat very badly, and dead meat is absolutely required in these situations."

"Well, evidently the money hasn't helped, or you wouldn't be hiding out here in the woods."

"I'm getting there. The cover-up went to the top on that North Korean sanction, and politicians have to be careful with a sudden influx of cash."

"If they don't find you before you get out from under."

Galen paused. "Like I did."

Judd smiled faintly. "But you're extraordinarily qualified in that area."

"You didn't make it easy. You've moved four times in the last month."

"How did you find me?"

"Your new obsession." Galen's gaze went to the painting on the easel. "You lived at my ranch for months. I knew you'd need paints and canvas and you particularly like the quality of the paints from that dealer in Nova Scotia."

Judd nodded approvingly. "Very good. And the next ques tion is, why have you found me?"

"I have a job for you."

Judd went still. "I take it you're not hiring me to paint Elena's portrait."

"No way."

"Then I have to refuse. I'm out of the business."

"The wages are very high."

"I don't need money, Galen."

"I don't imagine you do, after the money you took from Chavez. But you need that sanction taken off you and I know a man who can do it."

"For a price?" His lips twisted. "Who does he want taken down?"

Galen shook his head. "He wants someone kept alive." Galen dropped into a chair and stretched out his legs. "Could I have a cup of coffee from the pot on that table? It was a damn cold walk from the road."

"No one invited you to make it." Judd crossed the room, poured him a cup, and took it to him. "If your man wants to pay me to keep someone alive, then he must think it's going to be difficult to do it."

"Not easy." "Who?"

"Alex Graham." "Never heard of him."

"Her. She's a photojournalist covering the dam break at

Arapahoe Junction."

He went still. "Arapahoe Junction?"

"Even if you've been on the move you must have heard about the break."

"Oh, yes. I've heard about it. And?"

"She claims she saw someone cause a landslide on the other side of the dam."

"I thought the dam break was supposed to be an accident." "They can't find any evidence to the contrary, but the FBI isn't taking any chances. An attempt was made on Graham's life two nights ago. Her friend, Sarah Logan, was shot in stead."

His brows lifted. "Logan?"

Galen nodded. "John Logan's wife. She's going to be fine, but he's a tad upset. So upset he wants to make sure Alex Graham is nowhere near his wife until this mess is cleared up."

"The woman is a target because she's a witness? Then why don't the police or the FBI put her in a safe house?"

"She won't have it. Logan tried to persuade her, but she balked."

"Then how am I supposed to keep her safe if she insists on staying in the open?"

Galen smiled. "I've never known you to quibble when an obstacle gets in your way. You'll do whatever is necessary. I told you, Logan wants to make sure."

"And Logan is going to get this sanction taken off me?" He shook his head. "He tried to pull strings before, but he struck out."

"You didn't give him enough time. He's had the President's ear since he's been involved in Homeland Security. All you have to do is make sure Alex Graham remains safe and sound until the FBI finds out what the hell happened at Arapahoe

Dam."

"And I assume I don't get my payoff until the woman is considered out of danger?"

"That's right."

"Bullshit. If I make myself visible, I could get taken out while I'm playing bodyguard."

"Maybe you could find a way to work around it. The payoff is worth it."

Freedom. Yes, that would be worth almost any risk. He thought about it. It was tempting. Logan was an honest man and would keep his word. Judd wouldn't admit it to Galen, but his own efforts to bribe his way to safety had come to a dead end lately. But he could see any number of possible pitfalls looming in a situation that involved working in the shadow of the FBI.

Arapahoe Junction…

He shook his head. "It's not my scene. I'll work out my problems my own way."

"Look, this job's important to me. Logan is my friend. Ac tually, he called me and asked me to do it."

"Then why don't you?"

"I promised I'd stay close to home, and I don't want to worry Elena." He paused and a smile lit his face. "She's preg nant."

"Congratulations."

"We're pretty happy about it." His smile faded. "So I'm calling in debts. You could have gotten eliminated if I hadn't given you a place to hide when they put out word of the sanc tion. You owe me, Judd."

"What makes you think that means anything to me?" "Like I said, I know you."

Judd shook his head. "No, you don't."

"Elena said that you once threatened to take her out if she got me into trouble."

"Threats are easy."

"And you didn't mean it?"

Yes, he'd meant it. He didn't permit himself to become close to many people, but Galen had barged into his life and made himself his friend. "Maybe."

"That was hard to say, wasn't it?"

Judd smiled faintly. "You've always insisted on thinking the best of me. Why? Do you hate to admit you're wrong?"

"Probably. It would be a great blow to my self-esteem. You should be glad I don't believe you're the bastard Elena thinks you are. I don't think you'd have sold us out for the money."

"But I did sell you out."

"Not really." He paused. "If you had, I'd have made sure that you didn't survive to paint any more pretty pictures." Galen finished his coffee and stood up. He pulled a large manila envelope from his jacket pocket and dropped it on the coffee table. "A dossier on Alex Graham. I thought you might want to look it over. Now I'll get out of here and leave you to think about the proposition."

"I've already turned it down."

"But that was before I appealed to your gentler side." He started for the door and then stopped and gazed at the painting on the easel. It was of a slim, bearded man in Renaissance dress stepping out from behind a curtain. "That's really very good. His expression is… exceptional. It's mocking yet…" He thought about it. "Haunted."

"But then, we're all haunted by something, aren't we?"

"And there's a tension… He looks lethal. Who is he sup posed to be?"

Judd shrugged. "No one in particular. I just woke up one morning and started to paint him."

Galen was still studying it and suddenly snapped his fin gers. "He's an assassin, a Renaissance assassin."

"Is he?"

"Isn't he?"

"I suppose he could be." He smiled faintly. "But I assure you I had no intention of creating a self-portrait."

"Remarkable…" Galen headed for the door. "Call me."

Judd picked up his paintbrush as the door closed behind

Galen. He wouldn't call him. Even if Arapahoe Junction weren't involved, getting mixed up with a job like this would be a mistake. He was no bodyguard, and the last thing he wanted to do was try to protect this woman. He was having enough trouble protecting himself. There was no way he'd let himself be persuaded by sentiment.

Besides, he wanted to finish this painting. It had been driving him since he'd first started it last week. He didn't need any interruptions.

He bent over the easel.

More shadow in the cloak.

More richness in the velvet of the doublet.

More torment in the face of the assassin.

Galen waited until he had crossed the state line into Massachusetts before he dialed Logan.

"I've found Morgan and made the offer," he said as soon as he reached Logan. "It's a possible."

"You're sure he's the right man? He may be more danger ous than our shooter."

"Almost certainly. That's why you need him."

"He's a loose cannon." Logan paused. "I never questioned you before when you told me he'd had a raw deal. But I'm questioning you now. There's a hell of a lot at stake. The word is that he disobeyed orders and almost caused a diplomatic incident. That the sanction on that North Korean general was canceled and he went ahead and did it anyway."

"It wasn't canceled. Just deemed a mistake after the fact."

"So he claimed."

"And I believe him. He did what he was ordered to do, what the United States government trained him to do." He added wearily, "My God, I'm sick to death of all this hypocrisy. They can't have it both ways. The military picks up kids with potential and gives them a bunch of brainwashing about patriotism and duty and then sends them out to kill. If they have a good eye and steady nerves, they may even put them in the Airborne Rangers like they did Morgan. They taught him how to kill and blow up everything in sight and praised him for it. When he proved to be exceptional, they upped the ante and sent him alone behind enemy lines in the Middle East to take out the enemy. Do you know how many terrorists he's killed in these last years? But exceptional also means expendable. He became a little hot, so the CIA picked him up for their dirty tricks and the cycle began again."

Logan didn't speak for a moment. "You like him."

"Yes, I've always liked him. God knows why. And I wouldn't have recommended him to you if I didn't think he could do the job. He has great qualifications. He knows how to run, how to hide, and how to get rid of anyone in his way."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Logan said, "I've always been puzzled about the difficulty I ran into when I was trying to pull strings to get the heat off Morgan."

"Puzzled?"

"It should have been easier. I'm no amateur when it comes to getting my own way with politicians and bureaucrats, but I ran into a stone wall when I mentioned his name."

"They were trying to protect their asses."

"Maybe. Or maybe not."

"Look, do you want to use him or not?"

Another silence. "If you really think he's the best man for the job. When will I know if he consents to do it?"

"When I do."

"And you think he'll go for it?"

"It's hard to tell. Judd's always been hard to read. I've got a hunch he'll- I don't know. I have to let him mull it over. I'll call you." He hung up the phone. He wasn't about to commit himself to Logan. Even though Galen's instincts were telling him he'd made an impact, Judd might still turn him down.

It had to be instinct. Judd's face had all the expression of a slab of granite, and he sure as hell wasn't predictable. Elena would testify to that fact. She'd probably never forgive him for the Chavez deal.

Elena. At the thought of her, his foot pressed harder on the accelerator. Forget about Judd and Alex Graham and everyone else. If he could get a quick flight out of Boston, he might be home with Elena tonight.

It was done.

God, he was tired. Judd rubbed his eyes as he propped his feet on the coffee table. It must be close to three in the morning, and he'd been working on the painting since Galen left hours ago.

Was it good? How the hell did he know? He supposed it was the best he could do at this particular stage. It was certainly better than he'd been able to do a year ago. He'd been sketching faces for years, but when he'd fled the Company and started to dedicate himself to painting, he'd been unable to do anything but landscapes and stilllifes. It was only recently he'd begun to bring people back into the mix, and now portraiture was becoming an obsession. It was fascinating to delve deep, to tear through the layers and find what lay beneath. Not many people were at all what they seemed on the surface, and painting them was like exploring a new territory. His gaze met the eyes of the assassin in the picture. He'd denied to Galen that this particular painting was a form of therapy, but perhaps he'd lied. He lifted his coffee cup in a toast and murmured, "Hello, brother."

He took a drink of coffee and then grimaced. Cold and bitter. He should have made a fresh pot. He set the cup on the coffee table beside the envelope Galen had tossed there.

Arapahoe Dam.

Ignore the envelope. He had to look out for his own neck. Arapahoe Junction.

What the devil did he care if the woman was idiot enough to think she could tilt at windmills? He'd already made a decision that there was no way he was going to open that Pan dora's box. He was in enough trouble.

What had she seen at Arapahoe Dam?

Oh, what the hell. He opened the envelope and drew out the dossier and three photos. He wouldn't look at the photos. He had found as long as he didn't look at the faces he could keep himself remote and unemotional.

He scanned the opening paragraphs, which described the events that had led to Logan's offer, and then the dossier itself.

Alex Graham, age twenty-nine. Born and raised in Westacre, New Jersey, of middle-class parents who divorced when she was thirteen. Her mother, Ellen, was a computer information-systems specialist with IBM and her father, Michael, a fireman with the Newark fire department. A civil enough divorce. Though her mother retained custody, she'd spent every other weekend with her father. She won a photo contest sponsored by National Geographic at sixteen and was awarded a journalism scholarship to Columbia University when she graduated from high school. She'd quit college in her junior year and gone to photograph the horrendous earthquake in Tibet. The resulting photos had earned her acclaim and a place on the staff of Newsweek. From that point on it had been a steady climb upward in her chosen profession.

She was now a freelance photojournalist and contributed principally to World Life.

Her mother had died of emphysema three years after Alex left school, and her father was killed at the World Trade Center a few years later. She had been engaged once but never married.

All cut and dried, Judd thought. It read like an obituary. Which it might turn out to be if Alex Graham wasn't very careful.

Not his problem. He tossed the dossier back on the table.

Let Galen get someone else for the job.

But Galen hadn't said that when Judd was in trouble. He had stepped in and yanked him out from under the threat and kept him safe for months.

Forget it. This was the last job he should get near. They could very well be waiting for him. He couldn't afford to be soft when it might put everything he valued in jeopardy. He picked up the photos and started to jam them back into the envelope. He wouldn't look at them. He wouldn't let Alex Graham become a real person to him. Judd wasn't Galen, and he wouldn't be a quixotic ass and pretend that he was anything but what life had made him. He would do what was best for himself and screw

Oh, shit.

The photo of Alex Graham was faceup, staring at him.

My God, what a remarkable face. She was not a beautiful woman, unless you considered strength beauty. Her short brown hair was clean and shining, pushed back and styled simply. Her high cheekbones were clean cut and her mouth wide and sensitive. Deep-set brown eyes sparkled with vitality and intensity. The snapshot had been taken somewhere in the mountains, and she was gazing out of the picture with a touch of defiance.

Why?

He glanced at the other photos. One was obviously a pass port photo, but the other one was at a disaster site and she looked exhausted and heartsick. Yet her eyes… Defiance and wariness. What was behind those barriers she was putting up?

It was just a face. Don't let curiosity influence cool judgment. Don't let her become a person to you. It was always a mistake to

Dammit, it was already too late.

Okay, she was alive for him. Then bend the situation to suit yourself. He knew how to make himself invisible. He could do the job and no one, not even Alex Graham, would be aware he was around. He could still stay apart and in full control.

His phone rang. "Hello."

"Galen. Have you finished the painting?"

"Yes. Is that why you're calling me at four in the morning?"

"Not exactly. But I didn't want you to have any distrac tions getting in the way of the job."

"I told you I wasn't-"

"I thought you might have second thoughts."

Judd stared down at the photograph of Alex Graham.

"Judd?"

"Maybe."

Galen was silent for a moment. "How do I turn the maybe into a yes?"

"You and Logan let me do anything I have to do. If I have to take the gloves off, I don't want anyone getting in my way. You see that I have a clear playing field."

"He's not going to agree to get the sanction taken off you yet."

"I'm not talking about the past, only the present."

"What are you thinking about?"

"You don't want to know. It might jar you out of that cozy little cocoon you're sharing with Elena. Just be ready to jump in case I need you."

"Okay. I'll call Logan. If there's any problem, I'll let you know."

"Tonight. If I'm going to do this, it's got to be right away. If this is a professional job, Graham is on borrowed time. I don't want to waste any planning on a dead woman."

"She's not dead yet. If you don't hear from me in an hour, it's a go." He hung up.

Jesus, he should have his head examined, Judd thought wearily. Why had he committed himself? Alex Graham meant nothing to him.

Because he was tired and angry and sick of being a target? Because lately he'd been tempted to just stay and wait for Runne to find him?

Judd leaned his head back on the couch, his gaze returning to the mocking face of the assassin in the painting. "Okay, so it's not the brightest decision I've ever made…"