"Patterson’s the man in Chicago who was doing his secretary while he was chasing you, right?" Joe asked.

His frank assessment didn’t faze her. "Yes, he’s the one."

"I’d say he’s having trouble letting go," Joe remarked. "But don’t worry. Nick will take care of him."

"No, he won’t take care of him," she countered, a bit more sharply than she’d intended. "Joel Patterson is my problem, and I’ll deal with him."

"Okay," Joe said, surprised by the burst of anger. "Whatever you decide is fine with me."

"I’m ignoring him."

"That doesn’t seem to be working," he pointed out.

"Let him spend his money on flowers. I don’t care. Now can we please drop the subject?"

"Yes, sure."

She put her hand to her brow. "Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just… after what happened at the picnic… he was there, Joe. And he wanted me to know he was watching me. ‘I Only Have Eyes for You.’ That was the song he requested. Cute, huh?"

"I heard all about it," Joe said as he followed her into the kitchen. He had already guessed what she was going to do. Make tea. Joe knew the strain was getting to her. In the harsh kitchen light, she looked pale, as though she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.

Joe blurted out what he was thinking. "You’ve got to stay strong."

She whirled around to face him, one hand defiantly on her hip.

"You don’t have to worry about me."

Easier said than done, Joe thought. "Why don’t you go into the living room and watch a little television?"

"I’m going to make a cup of hot tea. Would you like some?"

"Sure," he said. It felt like it was 110 in the kitchen, but if she wanted to make hot tea for him, he’d drink it.

He sat down and watched her work. Nick was in the back hallway, talking on his phone, his head bent, his voice too low to make out any of the conversation. Joe figured he was either talking to Morganstern or Wesson.

Laurant took the kettle to the sink and held it under the faucet. She stared at the fleur-de-lis painted on the white tile above the splash guard while she thought about the picnic.

Nick had finished his call and came back into the kitchen in time to hear her say, "Lonnie was there at the picnic. He left early, but he could have put that piece of paper in the hat before Tommy chased him away."

Nick got a Diet Pepsi out of the fridge and popped the lid. He took a long swallow and then said, "Yeah, Lonnie could have done that, but he couldn’t be in two places at once, and we know he hasn’t left Holy Oaks in the last month. He was in town when the unsub talked to Tommy in the confessional."

"When did you find that out?" Laurant asked.

"I go that bit of information from Feinberg this morning."

She turned back to the sink. "So who wasn’t here?" she asked.

The kettle was filled, and water was now pouring down the sides. Nick took it out of her hands, poured out half the water, and then put the kettle on the stove top.

"The sheriff was out of town," Joe told her. "And so was Steve Brenner. He told friends he was going fishing." and cups from the cupboard and put them on the table. She didn’t seem to notice that Nick was drinking a Pepsi. She was still going to make him a cup of tea. He smiled while he watched her work. The quirky habit of hers was odd but sweet.

She sat down to wait for the water to heat. Restless, she picked up the deck of cards Joe had left and began to shuffle them.

"What about the crime scene Wesson was so excited about? Shouldn’t we have heard something by now?"

Joe answered. "The lab’s working on the evidence they’ve collected. I do know the scene was contaminated."

"Contaminated by what?"

"Cows," Joe said.

She couldn’t block the picture Joe had just evoked and whispered, "Oh, God."

"Deal the cards," he suggested, hoping to turn her attention. "We’ll play gin."

"Okay," she whispered, but she continued to sit there, shuffling the cards. Joe finally took them out of her hands and dealt them for her.

"I know it seems like a lot of time has passed, but-" Nick began.

She didn’t let him finish. "They won’t find his fingerprints. They won’t find any evidence that could lead them to him."

Nick sat down, straddling the chair with his arms braced against the back. "Don’t make him superhuman. He bleeds like the rest of us. He’s going to mess up, and then we’ll nail him."

She picked up her cards and looked them over. "The sooner the better, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, then why don’t we make it happen sooner. I think Wesson’s right. Maybe I should go running alone tomorrow, and maybe I should spend the day doing errands on my own. Don’t shake your head at me. He’s looking for an opportunity, and I think we should accommodate him. You could make sure I was safe."

"No." He was emphatic.

"No."

She held her temper. "I really think-"

He cut her off. "I promised your brother I wouldn’t let you out of my sight, and that’s the way it’s going to be."

"Hey, Nick, chill out," Joe suggested.

The burst of anger was short-lived. "Yeah, right," he agreed. The tension was getting to both of them. Laurant knew why she was feeling so frustrated. Her every movement was being controlled by a lunatic. Yes, that was exactly what was happening, and God, how she hated it. But why was Nick losing his temper? He should be used to working under this kind of strain, shouldn’t he? Up until tonight, he’d been very laid-back and as steady as a rock. How in God’s name was he able to do it, day in and day out? The special unit he worked for searched for abducted children. She couldn’t think of anything more terrifying than a child in danger. The pressure had to be tremendous.

"You’re the expert. I’ll let you decide what’s to be done. If you don’t want me to run alone, then I won’t," she said.

She’d done a complete turnaround in a matter of seconds, and Nick couldn’t figure out why she was suddenly being reasonable again. "How come?" he asked suspiciously.

"I don’t want to make your job any more difficult than it already is," she said.

"Now that you two are calm, I kind of hate to bring this up," Joe said. He discarded a card and picked up a new one. " ‘Cause I know Nick’s going to get upset again, but-"

"I don’t get upset. What do you need to tell me?"

"If the unsub doesn’t poke his head out of the woodpile within the next couple of days, I’m going to be reassigned." The muscle in Nick’s jaw flexed.

"How do you know you’ll be reassigned?" Laurant asked Joe. Nick answered. "Wesson. I’m right, aren’t I?" Joe nodded. "He thinks maybe the unsub knows I’m here, and if make a big deal about leaving, then maybe-"

"Give me a break," Nick snapped.

"And I suppose if the unsub still doesn’t try to grab her, then Wesson will reassign the other agents so the unsub will feel more comfortable? I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we all pack up now and leave? Laurant can leave the front door open so he won’t have any trouble getting inside. That’s pretty much Wesson’s game plan, isn’t it, Joe. He’ll stay in Holy Oaks though, you can bet your ass on that."

Joe pointed at the disc to remind Nick that Wesson could be listening in. Nick couldn’t have cared less. He wanted him to know what he thought of his methods.

Nick unpinned the disc and held it up so he could speak directly into the microphone. "You want to be the big man to catch the unsub, don’t you, Jules? At any cost. That’s the plan, isn’t it? It’ll look great on your record, and your political ambitions are far more important than Laurant’s safety."

Feinberg’s voice responded. "Sorry to disappoint you, Nick, but I’m monitoring the line, not Wesson, and as far as I’m concerned, you guys are talking about the weather."

The agent was doing his best to protect Nick, but the effort wasn’t appreciated. Wesson couldn’t hurt Nick professionally, and even if he could, Nick wouldn’t have cared. How would he feel if he got fired? Maybe relieved, he thought. Bad attitude, he decided, but he couldn’t make himself care about that either.