She was humming to herself as she carried the bowls back down the hall. Even the shrill interruption of the phone couldn't dampen her mood. She set down one bowl and, cocking the receiver between her shoulder and ear, dug into the other with her spoon.

"Hello."

"Caroline. Thank goodness."

The spoon stopped on its way to her lips. Caroline dropped it back in the bowl and put the bowl on the table. Apparently there was one thing that could dampen her mood. Her mother's voice.

"Hello, Mother."

"I've been trying to reach you for over an hour. They had trouble with the lines. Which is no surprise, considering the kind of service down there."

"We had a storm. How are you? And Dad?"

"We're both fine. Your father's on a quick trip to New York, but I had several engagements and couldn't accompany him."

Georgia Waverly spoke quickly, without a trace of the delta she'd worked so hard to rid from her voice and her heart.

"It's you I'm worried about," she continued, and Caroline could imagine her at her rosewood desk in the immaculate and tasteful sitting room, checking off her daughter's name on one of her innumerable lists.

Order flowers. Attend charity luncheon. Worry about Caroline.

The image brought a nasty tug of guilt.

"There's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing! I was attending a dinner party at the Fulbrights this evening, and I had to hear from Carter that my daughter was attacked!"

"I wasn't hurt," Caroline said quickly.

"I know that," Georgia snapped back, testy at the interruption. "Carter explained everything, which is more than you bothered to do. I told you all along you had no business going down there, but you refused to listen. Now I'm told-and by the way, I don't appreciate hearing about all of this over my soup!-that you're embroiled in some kind of murder investigation."

"I'm sorry." Caroline closed her eyes. Apologies became the bill of fare when she dealt with her mother. "It all happened so fast. And it's over."

A movement on the stairs had her glancing up. She saw Tucker and wearily turned away.

"Carter made it quite clear that's simply not true. You know he owns the local NBC affliliate here in Philadelphia. He said the story was already running, and that several news crews were flying down to cover it at the scene. Naturally, when your name was leaked, it became hot news."

"Oh, Christ."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing." She passed a hand through her hair. Be reasonable, she warned herself. Somehow she had to be reasonable. "I am sorry you heard about this from someone else. And I know the publicity will annoy you. I can't help the press, Mother, any more than I can help the reason for it. I'm sorry if this upsets you."

"Of course it upsets me. Wasn't it bad enough that we had to play down the scandal of you being hospitalized, dropping your summer schedule, your public estrangement from Luis?"

"Yes," Caroline said dryly. "That must have been very difficult for you. It was inconsiderate of me to collapse that way."

"Don't use that tone with me. If you hadn't let yourself become overwrought about a minor disagreement with Luis, none of it would have happened. And now this business of going down there, burying yourself in that place-"

"I'm not buried."

"Wasting your talent." Georgia plowed over Caroline's protests like a blade through soft dirt. "Humiliating yourself and your family. Do you think I've had a single restful night knowing you're there, alone, unprotected?"

Caroline began to rub at the ache in her temple. "I've been alone for years."

Georgia never heard the statement, or the wistfulness behind it.

"And now-well, you might have been raped or murdered."

"Oh, yes, and that would have been dreadful publicity."

There was a brief pause. "That was uncalled for, Caroline."

"Yes, it was." She pressed her thumb and forefinger against her eyes and repeated the usual litany. "I'm sorry. Perhaps I'm still shaken by what happened."

Are you going to ask what happened, Mother? Are you going to ask how I feel, what I need, or only how I behaved?

"I understand. And I expect you to understand my feelings as well. I insist that you come home immediately."

"I am home."

"Don't be ridiculous. You don't belong there any more than I did. I raised you better than that, Caroline. Your father and I gave you every advantage. I won't see you throw it all away over some sort of pique."

"Pique? Well, that's an interesting way of putting it, Mother. I can only say I'm sorry I can't do what you want. Or be what you want."

"I don't know how this strain of stubbornness developed, but it's very unattractive. No doubt Luis found it equally so, but he's more tolerant than I. He's terribly concerned."

"He's… are you telling me you called him? That you went against my express wishes and called him?"

"A child's wishes aren't always the same as that child's best interests. In any case, I wanted to speak to him about your White House performance in September."

Caroline pressed a hand to her stomach where the knot was tightening. "I stopped being a child the first time you pushed me out onstage. And I don't need his opinion on my performance."

"I'm not surprised by your attitude. I've come to expect this kind of ingratitude." Georgia's voice tightened. Caroline could picture her, drumming her carefully manicured nails on the polished surface of the desk. "I can only hope that when Luis contacts you you'll display better manners. You and I are both well aware that he was the best thing that could have happened to you. He understood your artistic temperament."

"He understood my pitiful naïveté. I suppose it makes no difference to you that I found him boffing the flutist in his dressing room?"

"Your language is as crude as your surroundings."

"It can get cruder."

"I've had enough of this nonsense. I insist you come home. We have no more than a matter of weeks, as it is, to prepare for your appearance at the White House. And of course you gave no thought at all to your dress. I've had to find the time to consult with your designer. Now this new publicity-it's very detrimental."

So's a knife through the heart, Caroline thought. "It isn't necessary for you to take on any work," she said carefully. "I've already spoken to Frances and finalized the plans. I'll be flying into D.C. for the performance, and flying out again the next day. As for my costume, my wardrobe is more than adequate already."

"Have you lost your senses? This is one of the most important steps of your career. I've already started arranging interviews, photo sessions-"

"Then you'll have to unarrange," Caroline said briefly. "And let me assure you, Mother, that I'm alive and well. The man who attacked me is dead. I killed him myself, so I should know."

"Caroline-"

"Please give Dad my love. Good night." Delicately, she set the receiver back on the hook. She waited a full minute, wanting to be sure she could speak without screaming. "The ice cream's melted."

Picking up the bowls, she walked back into the kitchen to dump them in the sink.