Kerry looked at Silver, startled, after George had left the room. “I thought you said he didn't know—”

“He doesn't.” He frowned. “That remark might have been pure coincidence.”

“Or that wonderful cover you told me about might have been blown and he knows your think tank has nothing to do with hydrostatics.”

“Possibly.” He smiled slightly. “It's never wise to underestimate George.”

“I'm not underestimating him. You're the one who did that.” She rubbed her eyes. Lord, she was tired. “So do we go check out the senator's place and Gary Handel's apartment and see if I pick up any trace of Trask?”

He nodded. “As soon as George checks and makes sure we don't already have a victim.”

“I think we have time. It's too soon. He wanted it to come quickly, but he had to wait. . . .”

“But you think it's tonight.”

She nodded. “I got the impression the setup would take hours. But we can't just sit and wait for a report.” She got to her feet. “George can phone you while we're on our way to check out Handel and the senator.”

He nodded and headed for the door. “I was just going to suggest that.”

She smiled caustically as she followed him out of the house. “Maybe I read your mind.”

“I hope not. Considering the slimeballs you seem to specialize in.” He opened the car door for her. “Why don't you close your eyes and try to rest? You've already had a hell of a night.”

Yes, she had. And to grab what rest she could would be a smart move. She needed to be fresh for whatever confronted them tonight. “I don't think I can relax. But if I fall asleep, you'll wake me as soon as George gets back to you?”

“Of course. You know I will. I need you.”

That's right. How stupid of her. He needed her. . . .

The water was clear and tumbled over the smooth stones in a crystal flow.

A deadly flow, Trask thought. Deadly for Firestorm. It was frustrating that all the research he'd done had never brought a solution to this one element that could kill the fire. The only saving grace was that Firestorm burned so hot and so fast that most of the time it had done its work before water could be brought in to kill it. Oh, well, he still had time to work on Firestorm after he turned it over to the North Koreans. He would insist that his services be included in the deal in spite of their reluctance. Damn Asians thought their people were always superior. Yet they hadn't been able to develop anything nearly as sophisticated as Firestorm. They'd relied on nuclear when Firestorm was so much cleaner and just as deadly.

He climbed the oak tree and made adjustments to the small dish he'd set up a week ago on the third branch. He hadn't had a chance to make any changes in the dish since the failure at the house in Macon, but since it was going to be focused on one person there should be no problem. Then he settled down and made himself comfortable on the tarp he'd folded to cushion the hardness of the branch. Everything was prepared, and all he could do was wait. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through him as he thought about the kill to come. It had been agony to leave the house that now belonged to Silver without being able to touch Kerry Murphy. She was a symbol of failure for him and for the child.

No matter. The death of this target would ease him, and Kerry Murphy would be a joy all the more complete for the anticipation.

The moon was going down, but he could still see its bright reflection on the water.

Deadly, deadly water . . .

Wake up, Kerry.”

“I think I've heard you say that before.” She yawned as she opened her eyes. “I wasn't really sleeping. Where are we?”

“Twin Lakes.” He got out of the car and came around to open her passenger door. “Senator Kimble's place is just around the corner. I thought you might want to take your time and approach the house gradually.”

“Whatever works. I'm a complete amateur at this, and I've no idea what will and what won't.” She glanced around her. If this was a subdivision, it was a subdivision of antebellum mansions. “Beautiful. Each of those houses must have at least ten acres surrounding it. I'm not sure that I'd vote for anyone who had this kind of money. I'd wonder where he got it.”

“Private means. Inherited wealth,” Silver said. “Cam said he was a pretty straight shooter.” He pointed to the west. “See that glint through the trees? That's one of the two lakes. It's right in back of Kimble's property.”

“And where are the Secret Service men who are supposed to be protecting Kimble?”

“I'm sure they can see us. I doubt if they'll show themselves unless they think it necessary. We have to hope that George was able to persuade them we're harmless.”

“Then it would be a lie. You're not harmless.” She stiffened as she saw two men detach themselves from the shadows of the trees. “And evidently they did find it necessary to decide for themselves.”

“Stay here.” Silver went to meet the two agents. “I'll talk to them.”

She nodded. She certainly had no desire to deal with the authorities. She didn't even know what she could say to them. I'm here to see if I can pick up bad vibes? Christ, she had been trying to avoid appearing to be a nutcase her entire adult life, and now she'd been hurled in the middle of a situation where she had to be on the alert every minute.

Silver was smiling at the agents and then turning and coming back to her. “We're okay. They're just not taking any chances. I told them you're an arson expert and checking the grounds for suspicious objects. They'll be keeping an eye on us while they verify your credentials, but they won't interfere.”

“Interfere with what?” She moved toward the house. “I don't have a clue what I'm doing, blast it.”

“The first thing to do is not to get stressed out,” Silver said quietly. “We both know this may work and it may not. All you have to do is give it your best shot.”

She drew a deep breath. “You've dealt with this kind of thing before. What do real psychics do?”

Silver's lips twitched. “Kerry, you are a real psychic.” He held up his hand. “I know. You don't think of yourself in that way.” He shrugged. “Different strokes for different folks. Some concentrate. Others relax and try to let the impressions flow.”

“You're a great help.”

“It's up to you. I never claimed anything else. But, while you're trying to decide, why don't you kneel down and pretend you're looking for wires or something?”

She fell to her knees, her gaze searching the ground. “I thought you said the houses of all the potential victims were protected by that jamming barrier. Don't these Secret Service men know that?”

“No. Everything connected to Firestorm is on a need-to-know basis.”

She looked up at him. “I feel like I'm praying. Hell, maybe that's not a bad idea.” She closed her eyes. “I need all the help I can get.”

He didn't answer. He probably didn't want to disturb her concentration. Okay, so try to concentrate.

Where are you, Trask, you son of a bitch?

Nothing.

Okay, then open your mind and let him come in. Breathe deep and steady. Relax.

Five minutes later she opened her eyes.

“Blank,” she said. “Absolutely blank.”

“Then maybe he's not here,” Silver said. “Maybe Kimble's not the target.”

“And maybe he is and I can't sense Trask.” She got jerkily to her feet. “I told you I was no good at this.”

“Easy.” He took her elbow and nudged her back toward the car. “Are you willing to go and see our wunderkind who lives on the Potomac?”

“Why not? I can't do any worse. I have to try.” She felt a ripple of panic as her gaze went to the east where the sky was just beginning to lighten. It would be dawn soon, and Trask had meant to make his kill before the night was over. Her pace quickened. “How long is it going to take to get to wunderkind's place?”

“Thirty minutes maybe.”