Most people hungered for that, she realized, the knowledge or proof that they didn’t end with death, that they somehow carried on. They wanted to believe their loved ones were still alive, somewhere, healthy and happy. They might not believe, they might reject anything they couldn’t hear and touch and see, but they would be very happy to be proved wrong. She couldn’t prove anything; she could tell what she’d experienced, what she’d seen, but prove it? Impossible.

“I didn’t see a tunnel.” Cassie’s face fell, and Andie had to smile. “But there was light, the most beautiful light you can imagine. I can’t describe it. And there was…an angel. I think it was an angel. Then I was in the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. The light was clear and soft and sort of glowed, and the colors were so deep and rich they made you want to just lie down in the grass and soak everything in.” Her dreamy voice trailed off as for a moment she drifted, remembering; then she shook herself, both mentally and physically.

“I want to go back there,” she said firmly, “and I realized I had to change if I was going to have a shot at it.”

“But you were already there,” Cassie pointed out, bewildered. “Why would you have to change?”

“Because I wasn’t supposed to be there. It was temporary, so I could have a sort of…review, I guess. Then they voted to let me have another chance, but if I screw this one up, that’s it, no more chances.”

“Wow. Wow. That’s deep shit.” Cassie thought it over for a moment, maybe even thinking about her own life and some changes she could make. She put her hand on the door handle. “I guess that would make you rethink some things, wouldn’t it?” She hesitated another moment, then shook her head and shoved the door open. “I could talk your head off, asking questions, but I need to get home. You be careful. Whether or not this guy I saw is the one after you, you should still be careful, because he was watching you. I know that for a fact. It was kind of creepy.”

“I’ll be extra careful,” Andie promised, and she would. Getting killed, again, wasn’t the only bad thing that could happen to her. She might even have a little bit of a death wish now, if she could be certain she’d changed enough or earned enough points, or whatever. But she didn’t want to get raped, she didn’t want to get mugged, or a whole bunch of other stuff, so she would definitely be careful.

After Cassie got out, Andie waited until she saw her new maybe-friend climb safely into her rig, then she drove home. Hyper-alert, she watched for any car that seemed to be following her, but traffic was light this late on a snowy Friday night and for the most part there was no one behind her.

By the time she got home, the adrenaline rush of fear had faded and she was yawning with exhaustion. The porch light was on, just the way she’d left it, a welcoming pool of yellow light in the icy darkness. There was a streetlight at the corner, but the trees blocked most of the light from her house and she hated coming home in the dark. She always left a small lamp on, too, to make it look as if someone was there.

The duplex didn’t have a garage, or even a carport, so she parked by the porch and pulled her coat and scarf more snugly into place before getting out of the Ford. Snow immediately slipped down inside her shoes; it was deeper here than it had been out by the interstate, undisturbed by hundreds of trucks roaring in and out. Sighing as the icy wetness hit her already cold feet, she unlocked her door and slipped inside the warmth of her shabby sanctuary.

SHE WAS SAFELY home. From his parking spot down the street, Simon watched her go inside. He’d been waiting here since that trucker had spotted him watching her. The trucker couldn’t have gotten a good look at him, not with the hood of his heavy shearling coat pulled up, but he’d moved on anyway.

He’d kept an eye on Drea-she went by Andie now-since she’d left the hospital. He’d done what he could, paying all of her medical bills, and for a while he’d stayed close by in case she needed help with anything, but only dire circumstances would have forced him to step in. She was too scared of him; he couldn’t predict what she’d do if she saw him.

When she left Denver, he’d trailed her. When she made contact with someone to get a new ID, he’d smoothed the way for her-first, because that way he had inside information on her new name and Social Security number, and, second, because he didn’t like the looks of the bastard she’d contacted. He made sure she wasn’t ripped off and that the guy knew she wasn’t without protection.

She had gotten a new cell phone, too, and the one real chance he’d taken, as soon as she was settled, was to break into her duplex apartment and install a GPS locator in the phone. He also had one on the Explorer, but she would probably hang on to the phone even if she traded in the Explorer.

After that, he pretty much left her alone. He checked on her about once a month, just to make sure she was okay, and he kept his ear to the ground to make sure Salinas hadn’t somehow gotten word she was still alive, but that was it.

He started the car and pulled away from the curb, not hurrying. If she heard the engine start, enough time had passed that she wouldn’t think anyone had been sitting in a car at the curb when she pulled into her driveway.

She looked good, he reflected, much better than she had even a couple of months ago. When she’d first been released from the hospital she’d been so frail he had been tempted to snatch her off the street, just to keep her from driving. She’d been cadaverously thin and ghostly pale. At first she’d been able to drive maybe half an hour before tiring out and being forced to stop at the nearest motel. Sometimes more than a day passed before she ventured out again, which made him afraid she was doing without food all that time.

Several times he’d considered having a pizza delivered to her room, but that would seriously spook her. He’d hung back and watched, hoping she got to where she was going and got settled before her strength gave out completely.

She’d made it to Kansas City; he didn’t know if that was her intended destination all along, or if she got that far and decided to rest for a while, then made the decision to stay. When she rented that ratty little duplex, he’d heaved an inner sigh of relief.

The weight she’d put on looked good; she was heavier now than she had been even in New York, but she’d been too thin anyway and all the weight she’d lost after the accident had been a loss she couldn’t afford. He’d watched her work, knew the pace was nonstop, but she was getting enough to eat and her arms showed the muscle she’d gained from lifting heavy trays all day long.

She had two million bucks sitting in the bank in Grissom, and she lived in a neighborhood that was just an inch from qualifying as a slum, while she worked as a waitress in a truck stop. The irony was, he didn’t wonder why; he knew why she wasn’t using the money.

Salinas had contacted him again, so he figured it was time for the next hit in whatever scheme Salinas had going. He hadn’t answered the summons. He hadn’t taken a job in the past seven months, though sometimes he wondered idly if there wasn’t one more hit on the books for him, because it pissed him off that Salinas was still breathing.

He’d have to think about that. In the meantime, everything was okay in Kansas City.