David and Miri had celebrated their daughter’s first birthday just before he and Alex had left for Philadelphia. Although Alex seemed the same as ever on the surface, her friends could see the tension that flowed just under the skin. After the party, Miri had asked David if Alex was all right, and David hadn’t known what to say.

He did know that this case was getting to her. The assassination task force had been formed in November of 1999 after several left-wing politicians had been killed. Five months before, in early June, the leader of the Rights Of Humanity Campaign had been gunned down without warning on the streets of New York. The killing had been professional, done in the middle of a crowd. Everyone had first placed the murder in the realm of anti-gay sentiment, since the RoHC was a gay rights organization. But six weeks later, the new head of the Regional African-American Caucus, Max Rhodes, was gunned down in the middle of a political rally in a suburb of Baltimore. A letter had then appeared in the Washington Post, claiming the killings had been the opening shots of a war between “patriots” and “the Zionist government pigs.” The letter also had a list of other potential victims, and it guaranteed that at least ten would be killed. Two of those on the list had already been killed. That brought the total to four. Reginald Dabir, a black candidate for Pennsylvania Senator, had been number five.

The FBI had created a task force to look into the death of Max Rhodes. After the letter, the scope of their investigation was broadened and Alex had been assigned to the task force. She was, after all, an expert in hate crimes. Even if the official position was that the killings were not the work of any known organization, they had wanted to cover all the bases.

The task force had warned every person mentioned in the letter. They had offered protection and secure locations for individuals to hide. Several had taken their offer. Others, like Dabir, had chosen to ignore the warnings, up to a point. They carried on with their everyday lives, with extra security.

Cliff Jackson, head of the task force, had sent three of the agents under his command up to Philadelphia to protect Dabir. Dabir had been killed. David knew he was feeling guilty about it; he felt like a failure. He could imagine that Alex was feeling even worse. This had been the first time she was assigned as SAIC, Special Agent In Charge, on a case. Not only was Dabir dead, but so was the person responsible. They had few clues to go on. The situation was very depressing, and David could almost see the weight on Alex’s shoulders.

But, try as he might, he couldn’t see it in her face once she put on her determination. David knew he often had a guarded look in his eyes, but at least people could see some emotion in his. Alex’s eyes gave no clue as to what was going on inside her head. They showed only that she was alive — nothing more.

David was shaken out of his thoughts by the sudden sound of Alex’s glass hitting the table with a solid thump. Looking into those green pools of hers, he saw the gameface he’d grown so used to. The food and caffeine had done their job; Alex had officially woken up.

“Are we ready, David?”

“Let’s hit it.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s twenty after. Do you want to head to the morgue now, or … “

“Well, first, I need to jump in the shower for at least a minute. You know you’re the only one that gets to see me like this.”

David grinned. “I feel privileged.”

“You should. Then, I want to check in with Ken about the car. Maybe he’s found something there to give us a lead.”

Alex could see David’s doubt. “I don’t know, Alex. That thing was pretty well fried. I mean, they scraped those guys out of the car with a spatula and a brush. What do you think we’ll find?”

“I’m not sure. But I’ve got this feeling about it. Also, I had an idea. You remember what Leonard said, about how the guys were dressed?”

“Yeah, I remember. They were both dressed in suits, with coats and hats. So? It is February, and it is cold.”

“Right, but was this Watson wearing a coat or a hat when he shot Dabir?”

David’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Un-huh. Did he stop in the hall way and put them on?”

David gave a snort of laughter.

“So what happened to them? He didn’t leave them in the car, Leonard said he was wearing both items when he entered the building. He wasn’t wearing them when he left the building. Where are they?”

“Good thinking, Alex.”

“Thank you.”

“Told you sleep was good for you.”

“Shut up and hand me the phone.”

Chapter Two

There was a knock just as Alex was pulling her boots on. David opened the door to greet Agent Rick Price, one half of the partnership from the Philadelphia office.

“Rick, what’s up? Where’s Keller?”

“Getting some sleep. He still gets headaches.” Chad Keller, who’d been an FBI agent for nearly fifteen years, was the partner of Rick Price, one of the youngest FBI agents. Price, at 24, had only been with the Bureau for a year. After getting stellar marks at the Academy, he’d been sent to Philadelphia to play sidekick to the veteran Keller, who’d lost his partner to early retirement. Keller had taken a bullet to the head in the line of duty, and everyone knew it still affected him. He would be retiring later that year.

“Did everything get to headquarters allright?”

“Got a message that everything was received, and they started on the photos already. We should have them in hand before you leave tonight.”

“Good.”

“Oh, Alex, something from Lieutenant Wister.” He held out a folder. Alex flipped through it, finding several artists renderings of two different men.

“What are these?”

“Wister had Sargeant Leonard work with a sketch artist. These are the guys that presented themselves with the false IDs. This one,” he pointed at one of the pictures, “was the shooter. The other was the driver. Since none of the cameras picked up the driver, this is all we have to go on. Unless something comes up at the autopsy.”

“That’s what we were hoping. ” Alex stared at the faces of the two men, then handed them to David for his assessment.

“Yeah, that’s a good likeness of the guy I saw. Couldn’t see the driver, so I can’t tell.” He handed them back, and Alex slipped them into her briefcase.

“Wister is circulating these, right?”

“Yeah, at least among the police. Anyone who interacted with either guy, ever, is supposed to report to him immediately. They decided to wait until the pictures come in from Washington to release them to the press. Davies said he’d rather do it all at the same press conference than have to go through two of them.”

Alex groaned. “Great. He’s gonna be getting bad publicity from the start.”

“What do you mean?”

David answered. “Someone is going to talk. They’ll tell the press that the police had these sketches within twelve hours of Dabir’s death, and they didn’t release them. The press will immediately start questioning why they weren’t released, and you can bet the charge will be that there was a cover-up.”

“Or racism. Or that the FBI killed Dabir. Or some other such garbage. And unfortunately, even though Davies will be the one getting most of the dirt flung at him, some of it will miss —”

“— and hit us,” David finished for his partner. “Jeez, I’m really glad we’re leaving tonight.”

Alex looked up at Price. “Did you get any sleep yet, Rick?”

The young man shook his head. “No. I figured I’d stay on it until Chad’s up. Then I’ll get a nap.”

“How long do you think you can go?”

“I don’t know. But as long as they keep the coffee coming, I should make it till I have to drive you guys to the airport.”

“Yeah, and fall asleep on the way.” Alex kept her eyes on his. “As SAIC on this case, you are hereby ordered to get some sleep. Hell, if you want you can even crash here; David and I will be gone for several hours.”