"You think so?"

She smiled. "When I first met you, I thought you must have some kind of grudge against the FBI, but now that I know you better,

I realize that isn't true at all. Your phobia is much bigger than that."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "You don't like any government agency."

"That's not true."

"When we talked about your brother-in-law working for the Justice Department, you sneered."

"Justice has too much power."

"What about the CIA? I know you worked for them."

He didn't argue or deny. "Their priorities change on a whim, leaving agents and civilians out there to hang."

"What about the IRS?"

"Everyone hates the IRS."

She'd give him that one. She kept on naming government agencies, and he continued to tell her what was wrong with each one

of them.

"I think I've made my case. You know what your biggest problem is?"

"No, but you're going to enlighten me, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh," she said. "You don't like anyone in a position of authority."

He wasn't offended by her analysis. "You know what they say. Absolute power corrupts absolutely."

"The FBI doesn't have absolute power."

"They think they do."

"You know what I say?"

"What?"

"Therapy. You need intense therapy to help you get rid of your hostility."

Before he could tell her he hated therapy too, she changed the subject. "I need to get to a phone and call Carrie."

"Why didn't you call her from the police station?"

"Because you would have left without me. I still can't believe you were going to abandon me. I get mad every time I think

about it."

Should he tell her the truth or not? He clenched his jaw while he thought about it. She'd sounded so disappointed in him, even hurt.

"Look…" he began, and then stopped.

"Yes?"

"Maybe I was going to stay."

"Maybe?" She poked him in his arm. "What does that mean?"

"It means I was gonna stay. Now it's your turn to squirm. How come you decided to leave your super team?"

"Stop calling them that. I'm sure Agent Knolte and the other agents are quite capable of doing a good job."

"Yeah? Then, I repeat, why did you decide to go with me?"

She shrugged. "I thought about what you said, and I agreed. It isn't smart to put all of us together in the same safe house."

"And?"

"And what? Are you waiting for a compliment?"

Before he could tell her the thought hadn't crossed his mind, she said, "Okay, fine. I think I have a better chance of surviving

with you."

"What made you cross over to the dark side?" he asked, grinning. "Did Knolte say or do something that turned you into a rogue agent?"

"I'm not an agent. I'm an analyst, and he didn't say or do anything. I still have complete faith in the Bureau. No one is more loyal than I am."

"Uh-huh," he said. "So why'd you leave?"

She had to think about it for a while. "I'm taking initiative. We're taught to do that at the Bureau."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed. He nodded toward a sign on the side of the two-lane road. "There's a restaurant five miles ahead,"

he said. "I need to make a call too and get us some help."

Mr. Loner was going to ask someone for help? That was a shock.

"Then what?" she asked.

"You can call Carrie, but don't tell her where we're headed."

"How can I? I don't know where we're going."

He picked up the folded paper. "Chief Tyler has a cabin a couple of hours away. It's got a barn, and I can hide the car inside. We'll stay there tonight."

She glanced out the back window once again to make sure they weren't being followed. They hadn't seen another car in a long time, and she realized she was probably being a little paranoid, but she continued to stay on guard. One couldn't be too cautious, she reasoned.

"Do you have any guesses where Monk might be?"

"He's probably still in Colorado, and by now he's heard that your aunt and the judge are still alive."

"The FBI will be looking for us too," she said.

"Not us, sugar. You. They'll be looking for you."

"I turned the shower on in case one of the agents came upstairs, and I locked the dormitory door, but eventually Knolte will find out I'm gone, and he'll sound the alarm."

And then all hell was going to break loose. When Carter found out about the situation, he'd have her ass on a platter. She already had her argument rehearsed. She'd insist it wasn't insubordination. Carter was tough, but he was also a reasonable man. Surely he would see the merits of her taking initiative… again.

"Will the chief tell Knolte he offered you the use of his cabin?" she asked.

"No, he won't," he said. "Did he know you were going out the window?"

"No."

John Paul took the exit and pulled into the tarred parking lot adjacent to the restaurant. The neon letters were blinking Open.

"Are you going to tell me about Jilly?" He had avoided bringing up that subject until now because he had seen how Avery reacted when Tyler called the woman her mother. She didn't answer him. "You're going to have to tell me what I'm up against."

"What we're up against," she said. "Yes, I'll tell you what I know, but not on an empty stomach. Tomorrow," she promised,

"I'll tell you everything."

"Okay."

He took her hand as they walked into the diner. The colors inside made both of them squint. The walls were painted a neon

purple and orange as a backdrop to the white Formica countertops. A jukebox sat just inside the door. Elvis Presley was singing "All Shook Up" as they made their way down the narrow aisle.

John Paul chose a booth against the wall so he could watch the parking lot. He waited until Avery slid into the orange vinyl seat and then sat down across from her.

The waitress was a teenager, but she shuffled like a ninety-year-old. Her tongue was pierced, which gave her a speech impediment when she spoke.

"What can I git ya?"

They ordered turkey sandwiches and iced tea. As soon as the waitress went behind the counter, Avery dug some change out of her billfold and headed for the telephone she had spotted at the end of the aisle, between the men's and women's rest rooms.

The conversation with Carrie was mostly onesided. Her aunt was in a state. "Where are you?" she demanded. "Why aren't you here? Are you all right? Did you hear? Jilly's alive. The demon faked her own death. I didn't think she was that smart. She's like

a cat, Avery. Yeah, that's what she is. Do you realize, if you had shown up at the spa when you were supposed to, you'd have been inside that house with us?"

"Carrie, slow down," Avery said when her aunt finally paused.

Carrie took a deep breath and then told her some of what had happened from the moment she'd gotten into the car with Monk

and the other women. Avery didn't say a word while she listened to the grisly highlights.

"When I see you, I'll tell you everything," Carrie promised. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine."

"I was so scared and worried about you, but you're okay."

"Yes, I am," Avery said, her gaze locked on John Paul. "Carrie, who's the agent in charge of watching over you?"

Her aunt spoke at the same time that Avery asked the question. "They said they're going to put us in protective custody. I'm assuming they'll fly us to Florida."

"Why Florida?"

"Because of the trial."

"What trial?"

"Oh, Avery, you didn't know? That bastard Skarrett has a trial date set. Didn't anyone notify you? They sure as hell didn't call me."

Avery was stunned by the news. She had known that there was a possibility of a new trial, but she hadn't thought it would

happen this soon.

"No, I wasn't notified."

Carrie was beside herself. "They told me this killer Jilly hired won't stop until we're dead."