Within minutes, the hotel’s lobby was filled with law enforcement officers from across the Midwest. All entrances and exits were guarded. Elevators were checked and watched. Stairwells were examined at all twenty-five levels. The hotel’s room-service kitchen had been invaded and the staff questioned. Despite the overwhelming brigade of manpower, Maggie knew they would never find him.

Most criminals would consider it suicide to show up in a hotel where hundreds of cops, sheriffs, detectives and FBI agents were staying. For Albert Stucky it would simply be another challenge to his game. Maggie imagined him sitting somewhere, watching and amused by the commotion, the blunders, the unsuccessful attempts at catching him. That’s why she was checking the most obvious places.

The second floor included an atrium overlooking the lobby. She stayed at the brass railing while her eyes searched down below—the line at the reservations counter, the man at the grand piano, the few diners at bistro tables in the glass-encased café the man behind the concierge desk, the cabdriver hauling out luggage. Stucky would blend in. He’d look as though he belonged. Even the room-service staff would not have noticed him had he walked into their kitchen in a white jacket and black tie.

“Any luck?”

Maggie jumped but managed to restrain herself from automatically reaching for her gun.

“Sorry.” Nick looked genuinely concerned. “He’d be nuts to stick around. I’m guessing he’s long gone.”

“Stucky likes to watch. It isn’t much fun if he doesn’t get to see people’s reactions. Half of these officers don’t know what he looks like. If he plays it cool, they might never spot him. He has the uncanny ability to blend in.”

Maggie continued searching, standing quietly and still. She could feel Nick examining her. She was tired of everyone watching for signs of some kind of mental meltdown, though she knew Nick was sincere.

“I’m fine,” she said without looking at him, answering his unspoken question.

“I know you are. I still get to be concerned.” He leaned over the railing, conducting his own search. His shoulder brushed against hers.

“Assistant Director Cunningham thinks he’s protecting me by keeping me off the investigation.”

“I wondered why you were teaching. John said there were rumors that you were burned out, losing your touch.”

She had guessed as much, yet it felt like a slap in the face to hear it out loud. She avoided looking at him. She pushed strands of damp hair out of her eyes, tucking them behind her ears. She probably looked the part of the crazed FBI agent, with her tangled hair and baggy clothes.

“Is that what you think?” she asked, not certain she wanted to hear his answer.

They stood side by side, leaning against the railing, shoulders brushing while their eyes stayed safely ahead and away from each other. His silence lasted too long.

“I told John that the Maggie O’Dell I know is tough as nails. I saw you take a knife to the gut and still not give up.”

Another of her scars. The mad child killer she and Nick had chased in Nebraska had stabbed her and left her for dead in a graveyard tunnel.

“Getting stabbed seems so much easier than what Stucky’s doing to me.”

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, Maggie, but I think Cunningham may be smart in keeping you out of this.”

This time she turned to stare at him.

“How can you say that? It’s obvious Stucky is playing with me again.”

“Exactly. He wants to drag you into his little games. Why give him exactly what he wants?”

“But you don’t understand, Nick.” The anger bubbled too close to the surface. She tried to keep her voice calm and level. Talking about Stucky could bring her to the edge of sounding hysterical. “Stucky will continue to goad me whether I’m on the case or not. Cunningham can’t protect me. Instead, he’s keeping me from the one way I have to fight back.”

“I’m guessing he must have told you he wants you on that flight back to D.C. tonight?”

“Agent Turner is escorting me.” Why bother hiding her anger. “It’s ridiculous, Nick. Albert Stucky is right here in Kansas City. I should stay here.”

More silence. They were back to searching the crowd below, standing side by side, again leaning their elbows on the railing and again keeping their hands and eyes carefully away from each other. Nick moved closer as though purposely bringing their bodies in to contact. His shoulder no longer accidentally brushed hers. Now it stayed against her. She found a weird sense of comfort in this subtle touch, this slight contact, feeling perhaps that she wasn’t in this alone.

“I still care about you, Maggie,” he said quietly, without moving and still not looking at her. “I thought I didn’t care anymore. I tried to stop. But when I saw you this morning, I realized I hadn’t stopped caring at all.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation, Nick. I really can’t. Not now.” Her stomach churned with anticipation, with panic, with fear. She didn’t need to feel anything more.

“I called you when I first moved to Boston,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard her.

She glanced at him. Was this some line? That boyish charm, that flirtatious reputation of his surely couldn’t have disappeared so easily.

“I didn’t get any message,” she said, now curious and anxious to call him on his bluff if, in fact, that was what it turned out to be.

“Quantico wouldn’t give me any information as to where you were, or when you’d be back. I even told them I was with the Suffolk County D.A.’s office.” He glanced at her and smiled. “They weren’t impressed.”

It was a safe story. She wouldn’t be able to confirm it or deny it. She concentrated on the lobby. Below, three men toted luggage behind a well-dressed woman with silver hair and a London Fog raincoat that didn’t have a raindrop on it.

“I ended up calling Greg’s law firm.”

“You did what?”

She pushed herself away from the railing and waited until he did the same, giving her his attention and his eyes.

“Neither of you are listed in the Virginia telephone directory,” he defended himself. “I figured the law office of Brackman, Harvey and Lowe might be more understanding. They might actually care about someone from a D.A.’s office getting in touch with one of their attorneys. Even if it was after hours.”

“You talked to Greg?”

“I didn’t mean to. I was hoping to catch you at home. I thought if Greg answered, I could tell him I needed to talk to you about unfinished business in Nebraska. After all, I knew you were still looking for Father Keller.”

“But Greg didn’t buy it.”

“No.” Nick looked embarrassed. He continued anyway. “He told me the two of you were working on your marriage. He asked me as a gentleman to respect that and stay away.”

“Greg said that? About being a gentleman? As if he knew.” She shook her head and returned to her perch, pretending to be distracted by the activity below. Greg had become so good at lying, Maggie wondered if he actually believed his own bullshit. “How long ago was this?”

“Couple months ago.” He joined her again, but this time kept some distance.

“Months ago?” She couldn’t believe Greg hadn’t mentioned it, or that he hadn’t let it slip out during one of their arguments.

“It was right after I moved, so it had to be around the last week of January. I got the impression the two of you were still living together.”

“Greg and I both decided to stay at the condo, since neither of us were there that often. But I asked Greg for a divorce on New Year’s Eve. That probably sounds heartless—I meant to wait.” She watched as a maintenance crew pushed huge floor waxers into the lobby. “We were at his law firm’s holiday party. He wanted us to masquerade as the happy couple.”

The supervisor of the maintenance crew had a clipboard and wore shiny leather dress shoes. Maggie craned over the railing to get a glimpse of his face. Too young and too tall to be Stucky.

“People at the party kept congratulating me and welcoming me to the firm. They spoiled Greg’s surprise. He had managed to get me a job as the head of their investigations department without even talking to me about it. Then he couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t jump at the chance to be digging through corporate files, looking for misappropriation of funds instead of digging through Dumpsters, looking for body parts.”

“Right. Jesus, how silly of him.”

She turned and rewarded his sarcasm with a smile.

“I am a pain in the ass, aren’t I?” she said.

“An awfully beautiful pain in the ass.”

She felt a blush and looked away, annoyed that he could make her feel sensual and alive while the world was going nuts around them.

“I finally moved into a house of my own last week. In a few weeks the divorce should be final.”

“Maybe it would have been safer to stay at the condo. I mean as far as this thing with Stucky is concerned.”

“Newburgh Heights is just outside D.C. It’s probably one of the safest neighborhoods in Virginia.”

“Yeah, but I hate thinking about you being all alone.”

“I’d rather be alone when he comes for me. That way no one else gets hurt. Not this time.”

“Jesus, Maggie! You want him to come after you?”

She avoided looking at him. She didn’t need to see his concern. She couldn’t take on the weight of it, the responsibility of it. So instead, she concentrated on the men in blue overalls wrestling with cords and mops. When she didn’t answer, Nick reached for her hand, gently taking it. He intertwined her arm with his, bringing her hand to his chest and keeping it there, warm and tight against the pounding of his heart. Then they stood there while they watched the hotel lobby get its floors waxed.