Jilly had grown impatient waiting for Monk to return to the car. What was taking him so long? She picked up the binoculars from the floor and watched the tower. Where was he? He knew how much she hated waiting. "Fix the damn
thing," she muttered. "Hurry up."
Monk suddenly came into view. Jilly gasped in disbelief as she watched him somersault onto the roof. She thought he was
going to break his neck. He came flying down from the tower, but while he was still in the air, he twisted around and landed
like a cat on his feet. He lost his balance, skated down the roof on his hands and knees. She thought he was going to flip down over the building, but he caught himself in time.
Two men leapt onto the roof above Monk. They were moving so fast their faces were a blur.
"Kill them," she whispered to Monk. "Kill them now. Do it."
Gunshots reverberated around her. She thought she heard Monk scream her name, and she watched with detached curiosity.
He fell so ungracefully and draped over the marquee, blood pouring down over the lights. He died with his ass sticking up in
the air. She cursed his incompetent soul.
How dare he do this to her? Her disappointment overwhelmed her, and her eyes stung with tears. The remote. She frantically grabbed it and pushed the button. Once, then again and again. Nothing happened.
Damn. How could Monk be so thoughtless? He knew how important her dreams were.
Stomping her feet on the floor, she cursed him because he had ruined everything. Worse, he had made her unhappy.
"Damn you to hell," she muttered.
He'd left the keys in the ignition. Ignoring his order to take the other car if there was trouble, she hiked her skirt up over her
thighs, climbed over the console, and got behind the wheel. Men, FBI men, she knew, were running to the theater, and there
were people flooding out of the church to see what all the commotion was about. No one would notice her leaving. She pulled
out onto the street, and so that she wouldn't draw any undue attention to herself, she stayed below the speed limit as she cruised through town.
The second she reached the on-ramp to the highway, she slammed her foot on the gas pedal. Muttering curses, she slapped
the steering wheel, trying to vent some of her rage.
She had someone else ready to help, of course. No one was going to steal her dreams again. No one. She knew Monk had weapons packed in his suitcases, and by God, if she had to kill Carrie and Avery herself to get her dreams back, then that's
what she would do.
"Stupid Monk," she hissed. "Stupid, stupid man."
The tail car stayed well behind Jilly. There were three agents riding with Avery in the sedan. Kelly was driving, and she sat
behind him. She tried not to let her anxiety show, but it was extremely difficult.
Her heart felt like it had stopped when she heard the gunshots, and she didn't take a breath until she heard John Paul's voice
over the radio. She went weak with relief and then immediately started worrying again.
"Do you think she's spotted us?" she asked Kelly.
"I'm sure she doesn't know she's being followed," he replied.
Jilly was now so far ahead of them on the highway, Avery could barely see the back of her head.
"She's speeding, isn't she?"
"Yes," he answered. "She's going at least eighty."
"If there's a speed trap-"
"There isn't," he assured her.
"How do you know?"
"I know."
She moved on to another worry. "Shouldn't you get closer?"
"I'm not going to lose her, Delaney. Now sit back and relax."
"She's turning."
"I see her."
Avery forced herself to stop telling the agent in charge what to do. It would all be over in just a few minutes. If she could just
stay calm that long, she could spend a month falling apart if that was her inclination. Stay cool, she told herself.
Jilly had almost missed the entrance to the Windjammer motel. Avery watched her slow her car, make the turn, and drive
across the parking lot. She lost sight of her then as Kelly sped on. He pulled into the exit, circled around the motel, and parked
next to the restaurant adjacent to the parking lot.
"She's parked in front of the steps," Kelly said.
Avery was looking up at the units. All the doors faced the street. Then she looked at Jilly. She wished they were closer so
she could get a good look at her face.
"What's she doing?" she asked as she leaned forward.
"Brushing her hair," Kelly said.
Avery squinted against the sunlight. She saw Jiily pull down the vanity mirror.
"Is she putting lipstick on?"
"She sure is," Kelly said.
She sat back when the agent turned off the motor and rolled the window down. "You get out of this car, Delaney, and I swear-"
She didn't let him finish his threat. "I won't move."
Avery looked at Jilly again. She must have been satisfied with her appearance because she finally opened the car door and got out.
"Showtime," Kelly whispered.
Jilly ran up the first flight of stairs, raced along the outside corridor until she found the number she was looking for, and then stopped. Avery watched her spread the collar on her blouse so that cleavage would show. She smoothed her tight skirt, and then rapped on the door.
Avery's stomach lurched. She heard her voice calling out, "Darling, it's me, Jilly."
Tony Salvetti opened the door.