Rakkim laughed. “You can take care of yourself.”

Sarah wasn’t laughing. “Did you…did you hear about the bounty hunter?”

Rakkim must have seen the look on her face, holding her now. “Killing a man like that is a good deed in my book.” He held her close. “Don’t second-guess yourself. Don’t. It will only slow you down the next time.”

“I don’t want there to be a next time.” She felt Rakkim stroke her hair and she wished they were someplace else, someplace quiet and safe and with a fireplace. The rain beat against the roof, louder now.

“We should go.”

“How did you find me?”

“I was at Jill’s ranch. She said you knew Marian had been murdered. I figured you had come back for the journals.”

Sarah looked up at him, dizzy. “You know about the journals?”

“I have them. They’re in boxes beside my bed-”

Sarah kissed him hard. “Let’s get out of here.”

Rakkim smiled. “Definitive as ever.”

“Did you expect me to go all gooey once I left Redbeard’s protection?”

They walked downstairs together, Rakkim slightly in front, head cocked. He stopped in front of the door, checked outside through the side windows. Sarah waited. He knew what he was doing, that was one thing she was sure of. He rested a hand on the back of her neck as he watched the street, his hand light. The familiarity of his touch, the intimacy…not possessive, not a bit of that, it was a connection that ran both ways.

“Does your car run all right?” asked Rakkim.

“It’s beat up, but it’s a smooth ride.”

“Beat up is good, it will fit in with half the other cars on the road. I’d rather take yours than mine. We leave your car, one way or the other, it’s going to be traced back to Jill.”

Sarah opened the door, they stepped outside, then she closed it behind him. Locked it. She stared at Marian’s key. Marian had given it to her the last time she had visited. The wind lifted her hair, the night air cool against her scalp-a relief after the confinement of the head scarf. She tucked away the house key, stopped. Rakkim had taken the journals, not the Old One’s killers. The Old One didn’t know their value…if the journals even had any value. Her theory about the Zionist Betrayal was still just a theory.

“Is there a problem?” asked Rakkim.

“No…no problem.”

They walked through the rain to the car, refusing to hurry, waiting for the other one to break and run. Neither of them did. Sarah handed him the car key, then got inside, while Rakkim did a last survey of the area. “That’s odd,” she said as Rakkim got in.

“What?”

Sarah reset her wristwatch. Same result.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure.” Sarah checked her watch again. Same result. “Redbeard gave me this watch after my book came out. It detects a full range of tracking devices. Microwave, ultrasonics…everything. He was worried that I would be targeted-”

“The car is bugged?”

“I don’t see how. It wasn’t bugged when I got here. Anyone who wanted to harm me would have to know I was in Marian’s house.”

“Maybe they don’t want to hurt you. Maybe they just want to know where you are.”

Sarah opened her door. “We should take your car.”

Rakkim switched off the interior light. “Close the door.”

“We have to-”

Rakkim started the car.

Sarah closed the door. “We have to find the bug, don’t we?”

“No.” Rakkim switched on the wipers, watched them flick back and forth across the cracked windshield. “This is perfect.”

Darwin rested the side of his face in the palm of his hand as the headlights approached the guard shack. Beep-beep-beep went the tiny scanner on the counter. The rainstorm beat against the shack, sheets of water streaming down the glass sides, distorting the view. A blur looking out. A blur looking in. Bitter with the sweet.

He had waved Rakkim through about fifteen minutes ago, face down, pretending to read a newspaper. Sarah’s car drove past, not stopping. All Darwin got was a glimpse of the red taillights shimmering through the rain. They were both inside the car. Darwin had seen that much. He had watched them on the Cyclops. Watched them nuzzling in the front hallway, the two lovebirds finally reunited. Darwin had actually applauded at the tender moment, his clapping echoing off the walls of the guard shack. Sarah had discarded her chador, was garbed as a modern, a modern woman with all the modern desires. They would be inseparable now. Until Darwin decided to separate them.

Darwin still didn’t know if she had found what she had come back for, which was annoying. Very annoying. Sarah had been off-camera for ten or fifteen minutes in Marian’s bedroom, but she wasn’t carrying anything when she left. Neither was Rakkim.

There were those two boxes Rakkim and the fat detective had removed from the house a few days ago. That might be what she had come back for. Hard to know. Darwin could ask the Wise Old One about it, but the old man treasured his secrets. Ah, the mystery of it all…Darwin could hardly wait to find out what the old man was really up to. It would be interesting, that was for certain. In the early days he had done a few jobs for the Black Robes, but quickly grew tired of their narrow intentions, their joyless theological bickering. The thing about fundamentalists was, they had no curiosity. All they cared about was deciding where the line should be drawn, determining which side of the line was black, and which side was white. Right and wrong, good and bad…Darwin transcended all such categories. In spite of all the old man’s God talk, he was the same way. The two of them were unique.

Darwin whistled a happy tune as he peeled off the security guard’s lime green jacket. An ugly color for an ugly man. He tossed the jacket onto the floor, right next to where the guard lay curled beside the wastebasket, neck broken. Two guards killed in this same shack within a week. The homeowners’ association was going to have to pass a special levy to cover the increased cost of protection. An amusing thought. Death always brought so many surprises. So many unexpected consequences. A butterfly splatted against the windshield of a speeding car, and there went all hope of that typhoon in Japan that the philosophers were always prattling on about.

Some would call the killing tonight unnecessary. He had intended to talk his way past the guard, show his insurance-company ID, but then…then, instinct took over. A predator who takes no prey is no longer a predator. God had created Darwin to take pleasure in killing, and Darwin would not deny the wisdom of God. Darwin smiled at the blasphemy.

He slipped the scanner into his pocket, waved good-bye to the dead. It was a short walk to his car, the scanner beeping away. The microwave transmitter attached to Sarah’s car was working properly. Good timing on Darwin’s part. He had placed the device and gotten back to the shack just before Rakkim had driven up. Darwin slid behind the wheel, started his car. All things considered, things were working out perfectly.