“Shaw, I’ve got a car. You want a lift into town?”

“Just get me another assignment, the sooner the better.” Shaw kept walking, head down, bag swinging at his side.

Frank stared at him for a bit, then found his ride and was driven off.

Shaw got into London an hour later on a bus. He didn’t go to the Savoy. He wasn’t working. He couldn’t afford the place on his own dime. He checked into a far more modestly priced room in a far less desirable part of town. He had just thrown his bag down in a chair when his phone rang.

He didn’t even bother to look at the caller ID. He wasn’t talking to anyone right now. He went out, bought some beer, came back, popped one, drank it down and then another, crumpling the empty cans in one hand and throwing them into the trash.

The phone rang again. He had another beer, went to the window, gazed out on the street, and saw a bunch of people pass by who had never personally known Katie James and might not even know how close she had come to dying.

“She’s a terrific person,” Shaw said to the window. “I don’t deserve her. And she sure as hell doesn’t deserve me.” He held up his beer can, tapped it against the glass, thinking of her hand squeezing his. It had felt wonderful and yet he knew he would never feel it again.

At midnight his phone stopped ringing even as he finished off the last beer, which was now warm. He couldn’t sleep and rose in the middle of the night to throw up all that he had drunk into the toilet. He showered, shaved, dressed in fresh clothes, and headed out to find some breakfast at 4 a.m. This being London, he was successful after only a two-block search. He sat in the back of the mostly empty café and ordered the biggest platter they had. When it came he just stared at the food and instead drank down two cups of black coffee before dropping a pile of British notes on the checkered tablecloth and leaving.

He walked along the Thames and found the spot where he and Katie had stood when a shot had rung out and a man had fallen dead into the river. Then he ventured to another street where if he’d been a second later Katie would have been murdered by a man wielding a syringe. He passed a shop where they had had dinner together. And finally the hotel where he had thrown her breakfast cart against a wall and she’d responded by calmly pouring him a cup of coffee. This memory drew a smile from him that quickly collapsed into a sob. At that same encounter she’d shown him the bullet wound on her upper arm. And shared with him the story of the Afghan boy who had died, she said, as a result of Katie’s reaching too far, too hard for a story.

She’d flown across the Atlantic on a moment’s notice to be with Shaw when he needed her. She had always been there when he’d needed her. And now she was lying in a hospital with a hole in her chest because of him. Shaw staggered into an alleyway, leaned against a dirty brick building, and wept so hard he finally got the dry heaves.

Later, at Trafalgar Square, he sat red-eyed with the pigeons, staring up at Lord Nelson until his neck hurt because he didn’t know where else to look. London was coming to life now, the pace of feet and vehicles picking up. As the sun rose, the air warmed. After all that had happened, it was hard to believe that it was still summer. Gordes, even Canada, seemed an eternity ago to him.

He rose, looked around, debating where next to go, then stopped. Across the square Reggie was staring back at him. He started to walk in the opposite direction, but something made him reverse his path and cross the space toward her.

“How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess,” she said. “And I called Frank. He told me you were back in London.”

“How’s Whit?”

“Leg’s stiff but he’ll be fine. I’m glad Katie will be okay too.”

Shaw absently nodded.

Reggie wore the white jeans she’d had in Gordes, black flats, and a blue cotton blouse. Her hair hung limp to her shoulders. She looked older, thought Shaw. Hell, they all looked older. He felt like he was a hundred.

“Tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.”

“I think my service was turned off,” he said.

He started walking and she fell in beside him.

He said, “Thanks for taking out Kuchin. It was a hell of a shot.”

“I should’ve been faster. If I had, Katie-”

He moved slightly away from her. “Don’t, Reggie, just don’t.”

She fell silent as they walked farther into the Strand.

“Did they ever find Dominic’s body?” he asked.

“No. And the worst part is his parents will never really know what happened to him.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

She looked down, seeming to search for the right words. “Frank is talking to us about working with you.”

Shaw stopped and looked down coldly at her. “With me?”

“No, I meant with him. With his organization,” she said hurriedly.

Shaw started walking again. “I don’t see how that could be possible.”

She started speaking rapidly. “We would have to change some of the ways we operate. I mean we can’t, well, finish the jobs like we used to. But he said the information network and research support we have could prove useful if we were to combine certain-”

Shaw held up a hand indicating for her to stop. “I don’t really care, okay?”

She looked crushed by this but said, “Sure. Okay. I can understand that.”

They came to a park and Shaw sat down on a bench. Reggie hesitated, seeming unsure whether he wanted her to join him or not. She finally just sat down, but kept a healthy space between them, which was difficult since Shaw was so big.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you for saving my life.”

“Shaw, you don’t have to thank me. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

“I needed to say it.”

“Fine, you said it. That’s enough.” She crossed her legs, drew an exaggerated breath. “It’s none of my business, but-”

He cut her off. “Then drop it.”

A minute of silence passed.

“We weren’t more than friends,” Shaw said, breaking the quiet. “Not yet anyway. But we were friends. And she meant… she means a lot to me. More than I realized.”

“Okay.” A tear slid down Reggie’s cheek.

“And whether we ever would be more than friends is something that…” He shook his head, stared over at a little boy with his mother, and then dropped his gaze to the grass.

“But, Shaw, she’s going to be okay. You can go and-”

“That won’t be happening,” he said firmly.

Another few moments of silence passed.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked.

“Few days off wandering around here until Frank puts me back to work.”

“You could come out to Harrowsfield. In fact, I believe Frank is traveling there tomorrow to go over some things. And we could-” She stopped talking when he abruptly stood.

“No, Reggie, I really don’t think we could.”

He turned to leave.

“Please, Shaw.”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “I’m sorry.”

“But if we can just take it slow.” Tears were starting to cluster in her eyes and this seemed to anger her. She brushed them away.

He turned to face her as she stood to do the same. “I buried the one woman who meant more to me than anyone else. And I nearly lost another woman who I care about deeply.” He paused and drew a short breath. “I’m not going to make it three. Take care of yourself, Reggie.”

She stared after him until even his tall figure disappeared into the growing crowds as London came to life.

Reggie finally walked off in the opposite direction. She could not bring herself to look back.

If she had glanced back, however, she would have seen Shaw stop and stare back at her for a long moment. Then he slowly turned around and kept walking.