Kate looked up. "But why? I don't understand."

"Because of me. Because he's crazy. Obsessed."

"I'm calling the police," Kate said, standing.

"No!" Julianna cried, jumping to her feet. "They can't protect you from him! He's a professional. An assassin, trained to do wet work for the government. Killing means nothing to him. It's a job, a way of life."

"This is ludicrous!"

"You have to listen! The police can't help. John will wait them out. Or slip in and out without them being any the wiser. And he won't give up. Emma's a loose end. He told me so."

Kate strode past her and snatched up the phone from the floor. Julianna grabbed her arm. "I saw pictures. Of people with their throats slit. My mother-" her voice cracked "-she knew about him. I wouldn't believe her, so she had a friend of hers from the CIA tell me everything. He's the one who…who showed me the pictures."

Tears welled in Julianna's eyes. "That man, from the CIA, he's dead now. So's my mother. It's all my fault. Don't you see…he'll kill Emma."

Kate sank onto the chair, the cordless phone slipping from her fingers. She brought a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my God. If what you're telling me is…if it's true, what am I going to do?"

Julianna squatted down in front of Kate. "We have to run. Now. I hit him over the head with a lamp, but I don't know if I…if I killed him. I'm afraid I didn't."

"We have to run?" Kate made a sound of disbelief. "I'd sooner accompany a viper into a snake pit than go anywhere with you. I'll take my chances on my own."

"But I know him, how he works, what he looks like." She caught her hands. "You need me. Without me, you'll be sitting ducks."

"I don't need you. I-"

The phone rang. They both turned toward the unit, though neither made a move to pick it up. It rang again. Then again.

The machine answered. Kate's cheery message floated through the silent house, followed by a man's voice, deep and silky smooth.

"Hello, Kate. Pass this message along to Julianna, please. I have your answer now. You've betrayed me for the last time." He sighed heavily. "You and Emma are dead."

The highway stretched endlessly before Kate, the blackness of the night broken only by the illumination of her headlights and those of the other motorists, and even they had become few and far between.

She had been driving for hours, without a destination in mind, simply attempting to put as many miles between them and John Powers as possible. Kate clung tightly to the steering wheel, holding on to it like a lifeline, certain that if she eased her grip on the wheel, the grip she had on her emotions would slacken as well.

To protect Emma she had to stay alert. Calm and focused. If she fell apart… Kate refused to let her mind wander to the what ifs. This man, this monster, wouldn't win. He wouldn't have Emma. She wouldn't let him have her.

Kate glanced over her shoulder, at the back seat. Emma was asleep in her carrier; she had been for the past couple of hours, lulled to sleep by the motion of the car. Julianna slept in the seat beside Kate.

The silence was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing because she had neither the energy nor emotional reserve to deal with either female; a curse because it allowed her time alone with her thoughts, with the disembodied voice from the message machine, his words, his threat-You and Emma are dead.

Kate drew in a deep breath, keeping hysteria at bay through sheer force of will. After the message machine had clicked off, she and Julianna hadn't spoken. Kate had taken a minute to throw together a bag for Emma, taking only the essentials-diapers, formula and bottles, a change of clothes-most of which had already been in the diaper bag.

She frowned, trying to remember if she had even locked the front door as they left. Try as she might, she couldn't. She recalled the breathlessness of fear, recalled running from the house to the car, climbing into it and backing out of the driveway, nearly running down poor Old Joe and Beauregard. Luckily, she had thought to grab her purse. In it were her credit cards, checks and one hundred dollars cash.

Her eyelids fluttered down, and she forced them up again. She couldn't go on much longer without rest. And food. In back, Emma stirred, and Kate caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Emma would be waking soon. She would need to be fed and changed. Eventually, she would need time out of her car seat, time to play.

She would have to start looking for a place to stop for the night.

A motel, she thought. Fine for tonight, but what about tomorrow? And the day after that? Would her and Emma's life become a string of days on the road and nights sleeping in cookie-cutter rooms? That was no life for a child.

Tears burned her eyes. Tears for Emma. For herself. Her beautiful home, The Uncommon Bean, Mandeville- would she ever see them again?

She fought back the tears, gripping the wheel tighter. Until now, her only thought had been to put as many miles between Emma and John Powers as she could, as fast as she could. But now, she had to decide where they were going. Driving aimlessly would be counterproductive and depressing; a destination would give her something to focus on. Something to achieve. But where should they run? And to whom?

Running to family had been out of the question, though the thought of loving arms had been tempting. It had seemed to her that family-then local friends-would be the first places John Powers would look for her.

A semi roared past, so close her Jeep rocked. As the truck cleared her, he cut back into her lane, then exited. She looked at the sign, realizing with a sense of shock where she was.

Houston.

Luke. Of course.

Luke had not been a part of her life for so long, John Powers couldn't know that they were friends. They would be safe with him. A whimper of relief rose to her lips. Luke would take them in, at least for the night. Surely, he didn't hate her so much he would turn her away, not now?

She steered onto the next exit, pulling into the first gas station she came upon. She stopped the car beside a pump and unlocked her door.

At the sound, Julianna stirred, then opened her eyes. She looked at Kate, still half asleep. "Where are we?"

"Houston." Kate opened the car door. "Is there anything you want from inside? I'm going in to make a call."

Luke sat on his front steps, waiting for Kate. He hadn't turned on his porch light; the sounds of the night surrounded him. The buzz and hum of insects, the lonely howl of a dog left chained outside, the distant roar of traffic from a city too big to ever really sleep.

He leaned back, resting against his elbows. He had been working feverishly when Kate called, on a creative streak that had lasted several hours. Totally immersed in his characters' world, he'd had to ask who was calling three times before her answer had penetrated.

Kate. His beautiful Kate.

Luke frowned and tipped his face up to the starless sky, bombarded with second thoughts. He had heard the fatigue in her voice, the desperation. She had said only that she was in trouble, that she, the baby and a friend needed a place to stay, even if only for the night. It was an emergency, she had said.

A matter of life and death.

No had been on the tip of his tongue along with a dozen questions. Ones like "What kind of trouble?" and "Where's Richard?" Instead, he had given her directions to his house.

Luke passed a hand across his face, rough with his morning beard. Kate had never been given to exaggeration or melodrama. If she said something was so, it was. So what could be so urgent it was a matter of life and death?

Luke stood as a vehicle turned onto his street and proceeded slowly down, as if checking the house numbers. He cracked open his front door, reached inside and flipped on the porch light, then closed the door and stepped fully into the circle of light.