"Come on," Kim urged. "Get out of that coat and back into your clothes. We'll get the stuff we bought and get the hell out of here."

"Where will we go?" Tracy asked.

"First to the hospital," Kim said. "I have to get this laceration sutured up, or I'll be looking at it the rest of my life. Once that's done, we can go on to your house if you wouldn't mind. I think we'll feel a lot safer there than we will here."

"Now, who the hell is that?" Bobby Bo Mason asked. He and his wife, along with their two children, were having a small Sunday night dinner of sirloin steaks, double-baked potatoes, peas, and corn muffins. Their chewing concentration had been broken by the front-door chimes.

Bobby Bo lifted the tip of his napkin to blot the corners of his lips. The other end of the napkin was tucked into his shirt just below his sizable Adam's apple. He looked up at the clock. It was just a few minutes shy of seven.

"Want me to get it, dear?" Darlene asked. Darlene was Bobby Bo's third wife and mother of his youngest children. He also had two kids at the state agricultural school.

"I'll get it," Bobby Bo grumbled. He pushed back from the table, stuck out his lantern jaw, and headed for the front door. He wondered who had the nerve to ring his bell during dinner, but he guessed it had to be important because whoever it was had gotten through security down at the gate.

Bobby Bo pulled open the door. It was Shanahan O'Brian. The man was literally holding his hat in his hand.

"You don't look happy," Bobby Bo said.

"I'm not," Shanahan admitted. "It's not good news."

Bobby Bo glanced over his shoulder to make sure Darlene hadn't followed him to the door.

"Come on into the library," Bobby Bo said. He stepped aside to let Shanahan enter. Then he preceded his security head into the library. He closed the door after them.

"All right," Bobby Bo said. "What's the scoop?"

"I just had a call from Carlos," Shanahan said. "He didn't get the doctor."

"I thought this guy was supposed to be some kind of ace with a knife," Bobby Bo complained.

"That's what I'd been told," Shanahan said. "Carlos insists this doctor is just lucky. He broke into the doctor's house. He'd been told that the doctor lived alone, but when the doctor came home this time he apparently had a woman with him."

"Big deal," Bobby Bo said. "This Carlos is supposed to be a killer. What difference does it make if a woman was there?"

"She apparently confused him," Shanahan said. "He caught her naked and…"

"Enough," Bobby Bo said, raising his hand. "I don't want to hear any more details. The fact of the matter is this amateur wetback botched it up."

"That's the long and short of it," Shanahan said.

"Damn!" Bobby Bo said. He slapped the edge of his desk and began to pace and loudly curse.

Shanahan let his boss blow off some steam. He'd learned over the years it was best to say as little as possible when Bobby Bo was irritated.

"Well," Bobby Bo said, while still walking back and forth in front of the fireplace. "This all goes to show how stupid it is to save a few bucks by relying on a novice. So much for the vaunted Protection Committee. Let's call the professional up in Chicago and get him down here ASAP to straighten out this mess. What's his name again?"

"Derek Leutmann," Shanahan said. "But he is expensive. I think we should let Carlos have one more crack at it."

"How expensive?" Bobby Bo asked.

"At least five K," Shanahan said.

"Hell, five K is cheap if it prevents another major meat recall," Bobby Bo said. "I mean, we're talking about hundreds of millions of dollars, if not the viability of the industry as we know it, if the public learns the true extent of this E. coli problem. It'll be a thousand times worse than James Garner having to have bypass surgery after touting meat for us." Bobby Bo giggled at his own joke.

"I'm worried about the doctor causing trouble in relation to Marsha Baldwin," Shanahan said.

"Yeah, well, that too," Bobby Bo said.

"What about Carlos?" Shanahan asked. "He's really angry at this point. He's willing to do it for nothing. It's become a matter of pride."

"What's been the upshot of this last botched attempt?" Bobby Bo asked. "Have the police been called? Do I have a lot of media nonsense to look forward to?"

"Apparently not," Shanahan said. "We've monitored the scanner all afternoon and evening. There's been nothing."

"Thank God for small favors," Bobby Bo said. "I'll tell you what. Make the arrangements with Leutmann, but if the situation presents itself, let Carlos have one more chance. What do you think?"

"Leutmann will demand a down payment just to come here," Shanahan said. "It's not the kind of thing we can get back."

"So we save two and a half K," Bobby Bo said. "Plus we have our bases covered. One way or the other, we'll be rid of this pesky doctor."

"Okay," Shanahan said. "I'll get right on it."

"Good," Bobby Bo said. "Just make sure that the next time you talk to me, it's good news."

"I'll make it my personal responsibility," Shanahan said.

"One other thing," Bobby Bo said. "Get some bio on this doctor. When Leutmann gets here, I want him to know how to find him without screwing around."

The emergency room at University Medical Center was as busy as usual. Kim and Tracy were in the waiting room, sitting in seats close to where they'd been when they'd waited with Becky. Kim was holding a sterile four-by-four gauze pad against his laceration.

"This is a rather unpleasant déjà vu," Kim commented.

"Seems like a year ago since we were here," Tracy said wistfully. "I can't believe so much could happen in so few days."

"In some respects it seems like a long time and in others like a blink of the eye," Kim said. He gritted his teeth. "I can't help but wonder if things wouldn't have turned out much differently if Becky had been seen quicker on that first visit and cultures taken."

"I posed that question to Dr. Morgan," Tracy said. "She didn't think it would have mattered that much."

"It seems hard to believe," Kim said.

"Why didn't you want to call one of your surgical friends to sew you up?" Tracy asked.

"For some of the same reasons I didn't want to call the police," Kim said. "I just want to have it stitched and be done with it. I don't want there to be a big rigmarole. With a friend there'd be questions, and I'd feel guilty about lying."

"They'll undoubtedly ask you how it happened even here," Tracy said. "What will you tell them?"

"I don't know," Kim said. "I'll think of something."

"How long do you think we'll have to wait?" Tracy asked.

"According to David Washington, not long," Kim said.

By chance they'd run into the evening ER head when they'd first arrived. He'd heard about Becky's passing and had offered his deepest sympathies. He'd also promised to get Kim in and out of the ER as soon as possible and was unconcerned when Kim told him he wanted to use an alias.

For a while they sat in silence while mindlessly watching the pathetic parade of the sick and injured that passed in front of them. Tracy was the one who broke the silence. "The more time I have to think about what we just experienced, the less inclined I am to allow you to go through with what you're planning. I mean, it's plainly self-destructive for you to even consider going into Higgins and Hancock after everything that's occurred."

"What do you mean, allow me?" Kim questioned irritably while still musing about the ER visit with Becky. "What are you going to do, physically stand in my way?"

"Please, Kim," Tracy said. "I'm trying to have a conversation with you. Because of what's happened to Becky, I'm worried about whether you're capable of making reasonable decisions. It seems clear to me that getting a job in Higgins and Hancock is too risky."