"Do you think he'll go after Mark Townsend?"

"I think, if he's half as good as he's been so far, he'll detect the security coverage and look elsewhere."

She nodded. "It's not a good posture, is it?"

"It's a terrible posture. Basically, we're waiting for him to make the next move, and praying he makes the kind of mistake he hasn't made yet."

"My read also." She added, "Let's hope his next move's not too awful."

"If you're the target," I noted, "it will be awful."

"Of course. Speaking of awful, you look terrible."

Well, I should. I was trying to look terrible. I had scruffed up my hair and I sank a little lower in my seat. I yawned. "Well… I'm fine, boss… a little… tired… hungry… filthy… but-"

"Go get cleaned up and take a nap, Drummond. You're no good to anybody if you can't think. Lord knows what might develop later today."

I stood. "I… if you insist."

She looked at me curiously. "I'm certainly not… insisting."

I fast-stepped toward the exit, before she had a change of heart. She said, as I went out the door, "Just be sure to leave your number with the comm center in the event-"

I shut the door.

Elizabeth sat at her station outside Jennie's office door, and she smiled at me as I approached. She appeared to like me for some reason. As I said, women are rotten judges of men. I smiled back and said, "Good morning, Elizabeth. Is her majesty ready to depart?"

"On the phone at the moment."

I leaned against Elizabeth's desk and waited. We chatted amiably for a few moments, then, totally out of the blue, she mentioned, "I think she likes you."

I ordinarily don't like nosy, gossipy women sticking their noses in my business. But this was okay. "Oh… well, you know, we're just partners… maybe friends-"

"I don't think so. She thinks you're very attractive… and sexy."

"She never mentioned smart?"

Elizabeth laughed. She then paused, as gabbers do, contemplating how much to disclose. Eventually she stated, "She needs a man. She should have children by now. Have you ever been married?"

"Nope."

"Never? How old are you, Major?"

It could only go downhill from here, so I pointed at her ring. "Well… how long have you been married?"

"Twenty-seven wonderful years. Seven kids. Three girls and four boys. Just had our first grandchild."

"Wow! That's a lot of-"

"Children. Yes, I know. Don't you want children?"

"Can't I just borrow them?"

"How many?"

I was on the verge of killing either her or myself when fortunately the red blinker on Elizabeth's phone stopped blinking. Before Elizabeth could say another word, I said, "I'd better catch her while she's free." I popped my head into Jennie's office. "Still up for this?"

"Yes… I think."

She looked doubtful, however, and I suggested, "Maybe we shouldn't."

"With everything going on, you're probably right."

So we both weighed the choice between lounging around our cramped offices and waiting for something to happen or a nice breakfast, shower, and a nap, or perhaps something more than a nap. I said, "Bring your cell phone."

She grabbed her purse and mentioned, "That was George."

"What's he doing?"

"He's assumed direct control of the security around Townsend."

"Smart boy Take care of the boss, and the boss takes care of you."

She smiled. "He's not as smart as we are."

I smiled back.

CHAPTER TWENTY

I parked in the underground garage, and via the elevator ascended up to ground level. It is in the strange nature of females to always plan ahead, and Jennie informed me she had already called and booked us at the Hyatt Regency on Jefferson Davis Highway, which, as you might expect, had a lobby the size of a pro basketball court filled with la-di-da furnishings. A long line of overnighters and businesspeople gripping their briefcases were nonchalantly waiting to check out and shove off for the next town while we waited to check in.

It took a while to reach the head of the line, and we passed our time the way two people do who are on the cusp of first-time sex, or at least seriously thinking about it-a little shy, nervously flirtatious, laughing a little too hard, but at least we weren't panting.

But it could be I was misreading the signals here. It could be that Ms. Margold was just giddy from relief to be away from the hubbub of the investigation and from George. Women are confusing.

Jennie gave her name to the clerk, who punched it into the bowels of her computer. After a moment she looked up, first at Jennie, then at me. She clarified, "Two rooms, right?"

Jennie looked at me and asked the clerk, "Do you have a room with two double beds?"

"Of course."

Back to me, Jennie asked, "Do you mind?"

Did I? "Well… considering the federal debt…"

"I was thinking it would keep either of us from oversleeping." Jennie looked at the clerk. "One room will be fine."

She passed her Bureau charge card across the counter, and while the desk clerk made the necessary adjustments, I stood and contemplated the meaning of this. Two rooms definitely meant breakfast and a nap. One room could mean breakfast and no nap. Alternatively, one room could also mean breakfast, a cold shower, and a nap. I wasn't really sure what I was getting into, or if this was a good idea for either of us.

The magnetic passkey and charge card were passed across the counter, and Jennie informed the clerk, "We're federal agents. We're here on government business. Call the room in four hours, would you?"

I smiled at the young lady, who smiled back, I'm sure thinking how very fortunate our republic was to have such thrift-minded public servants.

We walked across the lobby and entered the elevator without exchanging a word, or even eye contact. Inside the elevator, Jennie said, "Ninth floor," and pushed what I hoped was the appropriate button.

I said, "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Seasonably warm," replied Jennie, staring straight ahead.

Well, this didn't sound like precoital banter.

We left the elevator and found the room with the same number on the door as the number on the envelope the clerk had given her, This was a good start. Jennie stuffed the magnetic key-card in the slot and the door opened.

We stepped inside. The room was expansive, I noted, with two comfy beds, the usual array of chairs, TV, side tables, and an overpowering aura of nervous uncertainty. I walked across the room, removing my coat and tie, which I threw into a messy heap on a chair. Jennie went to the other side of the room, removing her jacket, which she neatly folded and hung carefully on the other chair. I pointed at the Glock and holster on her hip. "I don't think you'll be needing that."

She smiled. "Won't I?"

Interesting. But she removed her holster and pistol and placed them dead center on the writing desk.

I sat on the bed, picked up the phone, and punched the button for room service. I ordered a six-egg western omelet for me, a large dish of fries, a side order of bacon, extra catsup, a pot of coffee, and a pot of tea for the lady. I asked Jennie what she wanted to eat.

"Fruit platter and two strawberry yogurts."

We obviously had different concepts of food, but I passed it along and hung up. I informed Jennie, "Fifteen minutes." I pointed toward the bathroom. "Ladies before gents."

"Oh… there's a gentleman around?" She was casually unbuttoning her blouse and moving toward the bathroom when she added, "I'll be quick. Don't fall asleep," which was also interesting.

I put on the TV and switched to Fox News, which offers only "News that is fair and balanced" which somehow is different from "All the news that's fit to print," whatever that means. A commercial was running, and some old guy I thought I recognized was talking about erectile dysfunction, which at that moment was not really my problem. I could hear the shower running and Jennie humming.