T he four met back at King's house late that afternoon. Parks placed a large file box on the kitchen table. "That's the result of our search on Bob Scott," he told Joan.

"That was pretty fast," she commented.

"Hey, who you think you're dealing with, some Mickey Mouse outfit?"

King looked at her. "Checking out Scott? I told you he couldn't have been involved."

Joan eyed him intently. "I like to verify things independently. It's not like any of us are infallible."

"Unfortunately the reason it came so fast," said Parks a little sheepishly, "is because those dummies crammed practically everything in they could find about people named Bob Scott. So a lot of the paper is probably worthless. But there it is." He put on his hat. "I'm heading back out. I'll call if anything clicks, and I expect you to do the same."

After he left, the three had a quick dinner out on the rear deck. Joan told them about her check on Doug Denby.

"So he's out of the loop," said Michelle.

"Apparently."

King looked puzzled. "So according to the woman you spoke with at the law firm in Philly, Bruno didn't cheat when he was a U.S. attorney in D.C.?"

"If we can believe her. I tend to think she was telling the truth."

"So maybe Mildred was feeding us a pack of lies about Bruno."

"Now, that I can believe," commented Joan. She glanced inside to where the box Parks had left was sitting on the table. "We'll have to go through the files Parks brought."

"I can start on it," said Michelle. "Since I didn't know him, I might not skim over stuff that the two of you might." She excused herself and went inside.

Joan looked out over the water. "It is really beautiful here, Sean. You picked a nice spot to start fresh."

King finished his beer and sat back. "Well, I might have to pick another spot."

Joan glanced over at him. "Let's hope not. A person shouldn't have to re-create himself more than once in a lifetime."

"How about you? You said you wanted out."

"To go to some island with my millions?" She smiled in a resigned way. "Dreams more often than not don't come true. Particularly at my stage of life."

"But if you find Bruno, you get the big payoff."

"The money was only part of the dream."

When King shot her a glance, she quickly looked away.

"Do you sail much?" she asked.

"In the fall when the powerboats are gone and the winds pick up."

"Well, it is the fall. So maybe now would be a good time."

King looked at the clear sky and felt the nice breeze against his skin. They had a couple hours of daylight left. He stared at Joan intently for a few moments. "Yeah, now would be a good time."

K ing showed Joan how to manage the sailboat's tiller. He'd attached a five-horsepower motor on the stern just in case the wind died down. They steered a course out into the main channel and then drifted.

Joan admired the spread of mountains encircling the lake, the green still vibrant, although the nip of fall was clearly in the air.

"Did you ever think you'd end up in a place like this after all those years of hotels and airplanes and pushing till dawn?" she asked.

King shrugged. "To tell the truth, no. I never thought that far ahead. I was always more of a live-in-the-present sort of person." He added thoughtfully, "I'm more of a long-range thinker now."

"And where do your long-range thoughts lead you?"

"Nowhere until this mystery is cleared up. The problem is, even if we solve this thing, the damage has been done. I really might have to move from here."

"Running away? That doesn't sound like you, Sean."

"Sometimes it's just best to strike the tent poles and move on. You sort of get tired of fighting, Joan."

He sat next to her and took over the tiller. "Wind's changing. I'm going to tack back into it. The boom's going to come across. I'll tell you when to duck."

After he completed this maneuver, he let her take the tiller back, but he stayed next to her. She wore a pantsuit but had taken off her shoes and rolled her pant legs over her knees. Her feet were small and her toenails were painted red.

"You favored purple toenail polish eight years ago, didn't you?"

She laughed. "Red is always in but purple may mount a comeback. I'm actually flattered you remembered."

"Purple toenails and packing a.357."

"Come on, fess up, it was a wicked, irresistible combination."

He sat back and gazed off.

They were silent for some minutes, Joan looking at him nervously and King doing his best to avoid eye contact. "Did you ever think about asking me to marry you?" she asked.

He glanced at her with an astonished expression. "I was married back then, Joan."

"I know that. But you were separated and your marriage was really over."

He looked down. "Okay, maybe I did know my marriage was over,but I wasn't sure I wanted to attempt another one. And I guess I never really believed two Secret Service agents could ever make a marriage work. That life is just too crazy."

"I thought about asking you."

"Asking me what?"

"To marry me."

"You really are amazing. You were going to ask me to marry you?"

"Is there a rule somewhere that says the man has to propose?"

"Well, if there is, I'm sure you'd have no problem smashing it to pieces."

"I'm serious, Sean. I was in love with you. So much so that I'd wake up in the middle of the night with the shakes, terrified it would somehow all go away, that you and your wife would get back together."

"I didn't know that," he said quietly.

"How did you feel about me? I mean really feel about me?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Honestly? I was amazed you'd let me have you. You were on this pedestal, professionally and personally."

"So I was what, a trophy to be mounted on the wall?"

"No, I actually thought I was."

"I didn't sleep around, Sean. I didn't have that reputation."

"No, you didn't. Your reputation was the iron lady. There wasn't one agent I knew who wasn't intimidated by you. You scared the shit out of a lot of tough guys."

Joan looked down. "Didn't you know, prom queens tend to be very lonely creatures. When I joined the Service, women were still an anomaly. To succeed, I had to be more ‘guy' than all the other guys. I had to make the rules up as I went along. It's a little different now, but back then I really didn't have a choice."

He touched her cheek and turned her face to his. "So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?"

"Ask me to marry you?"

"I was planning to but something happened."

"What was that?"

"Clyde Ritter's getting killed."

Now King looked away. "Damaged goods?"

She touched his arm. "I guess you really don't know me very well. It was a lot more than that."

He looked back at her. "What do you mean by that?"

Joan looked more nervous than King could ever remember. Except on that morning, at 10:32, when Ritter had died. She slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

King unfolded the paper and read the words there.

Last night was wonderful. Now surprise me, wicked lady. On the elevator. Around 10:30. Love, Sean

It was written on the stationery of the Fairmount Hotel.

He looked up to see her staring at him.

"Where did this come from?"

"It was slipped under the door to my room at the Fairmount at nine o'clock that morning."

He stared at her blankly. "The morning Ritter was killed?" She nodded. "You thought I wrote this?" She nodded again. "All these years you thought maybe I was involved in Ritter's death?"

"Sean, you have to understand, I didn't know what to think."

"And you never told anyone?"

She shook her head. "Just like you never told anyone about me on that elevator." She added quietly, "You thought I was involved in Ritter's death too, didn't you?"

He licked his lips and glanced away, his features angry. "They screwed us both, didn't they?"

"I saw the note that was on the body found in your house. It clearly implied the person was behind the Ritter assassination. As soon as I read it, I just knew we'd both been used. Whoever wrote the note that was slipped under my hotel room door pitted usagainst each other in a way that guaranteed our silence. Or at the very least would have cast suspicion on one or both of us. But there was a difference. I couldn't reveal the truth because then I'd have to tell what I was doing on that elevator. And once I did, my career was over. My motive was selfish. You, on the other hand, kept silent for another reason." She placed a hand on his sleeve. "Tell me, Sean, why did you? You must have suspected I was paid off to distract you. And yet you took the full blame. You could have told them I was on that elevator. Why didn't you?" She took a long, anxious breath. "I really need to know."

The jarring sound of the cell phone startled them both badly.

King answered it. It was Michelle calling from the house.

"Kate Ramsey phoned. She has something important to tell us. But she wants to do it in person. She'll meet us halfway, in Charlottesville."

"Okay, we're coming in now." He clicked off, took the tiller and silently steered the boat back. He didn't look at Joan, who, for once in her life, had nothing to say.