Angela finally released David, removed her soiled coat, and carried the briefcase and the shotgun into the family room. David followed, eyeing the shotgun. Angela sat on the couch, embraced her knees, and looked up at David.

"I'd like to stay calm," she said evenly. "Would you mind getting me a glass of wine?"

David complied immediately. As he handed her the glass he asked if she'd like something to eat. Angela shook her head before sipping the wine. She held the glass with both hands.

In a controlled voice Angela began to tell David about the attempted assault. But she didn't get far. Her emotions boiled over into tears. For five minutes she couldn't speak. David put his arms around her, telling her that it was his fault: he never should have let her work at the hospital so late at night.

Eventually, Angela regained her composure. She continued the story, choking back tears. When she got to the part about Robertson coming in to talk to her, her anger kicked in.

"I cannot believe that man," Angela sputtered. "He makes me so mad. He acted as if it were my fault."

"He's a jerk," David agreed.

Angela reached for the briefcase and handed it to David. She wiped the tears from her eyes. "All this effort and the slides didn't show much at all," she said. "There was no tumor in the brain. There was some perivascular inflammation, but it was nonspecific. A few neurons appeared damaged but it could have been a postmortem change."

"No sign of a systemic infectious disease?" David asked.

Angela shook her head. "I brought the slides home in case you wanted to look at them yourself," she said.

"I see you got a shotgun," David commented.

"It's loaded, too," Angela warned, "so be careful. And don't worry. I'll go over it with Nikki tomorrow."

A crash and the sound of breaking glass made them both sit bolt upright. Rusty started barking from Nikki's room, then he came bounding down the stairs. David picked up the shotgun.

"The safety is just above the trigger," Angela said.

With David leading, they made their way through to the darkened living room. David flipped on the light. Four panes of the bay window were smashed, along with their muntins. On the floor a few feet away from where they were standing was a brick. Attached to it was a copy of the note they'd received the night before.

"I'm calling the police," Angela said. "This is too much."

While they waited for the police to arrive, David sat Angela down.

"Did you do anything today related to the Hodges affair?" David asked.

"No," Angela said defensively. "Well, I did get a call from the medical examiner."

"Did you talk about Hodges with anyone?" David asked.

"His name came up when I talked with Robertson," Angela said.

"Tonight?" David asked with surprise.

"This afternoon," Angela said. "I stopped in to the police station to talk with Robertson on my way back from buying the shotgun."

"Why?" David asked with dismay. "After what happened in front of the church yesterday, I'm surprised you had the nerve to see the man."

"I wanted to apologize," Angela said. "But it was a mistake. Robertson is not about to do anything concerning Hodges' murderer."

"Angela," David pleaded, "we have to stop messing with this Hodges stuff. It's not worth it. A note on the door is one thing; a brick through the window is something else entirely."

Headlight beams played against the wall as a police cruiser pulled up the driveway.

"At least it's not Robertson," Angela said when they could see the approaching officer.

The policeman introduced himself as Bill Morrison. From the outset, it was clear he wasn't terribly interested in investigating this latest incident at the Wilsons' home. He was only asking enough questions to fill out the requisite form.

When he was ready to leave, Angela asked him if he was planning on taking the brick.

"Hadn't planned on it," Bill said.

"What about fingerprints?" Angela asked.

Bill's eyes went from Angela to David and then back to Angela. His face registered surprise and confusion. "Fingerprints?" he asked.

"What's so surprising?" Angela asked. "It's possible at times to get fingerprints from things like stone and brick."

"Well, I don't know if we'd send something like this to the state police," he said.

"Just in case, let me get you a bag," Angela said. She disappeared into the kitchen. When she returned she had a plastic bag. Turning it inside out, she reached down and picked up the brick. She handed the bag to Bill.

"There," Angela said. "Now you people are prepared if you happen to decide you want to try to solve a crime."

Bill nodded and went out to his cruiser. Angela and David watched it disappear down the driveway.

"I'm losing confidence in the local police," David said.

"I've never had any," Angela said.

"If Robertson is the only person you spoke to about Hodges today, it makes me wonder who's responsible for this brick coming through our window."

"Do you think the police might have done it?" Angela asked.

"I don't know," David said. "I can't believe they'd go that far, but it makes me think they know more than they're willing to say. Officer Bill certainly wasn't excited about the incident."

"I'm beginning to think this town is not quite the Utopia we thought it was," Angela said.

David went out to the barn and cut himself a piece of plywood to fit over the hole in the bay window. When he returned to the house, Angela was eating a bowl of cold cereal.

"Not much of a dinner," he said.

"I'm surprised I'm hungry at all," Angela said.

She accompanied him into the living room and watched him struggle to open the stepladder.

"Are you sure you should be doing this?" she asked.

He flashed her an exasperated look.

"You haven't told me about your day," Angela said as David climbed up the ladder. "What about Jonathan Eakins? How's he doing?"

"I don't know," David said. "I'm not his doctor anymore."

"Why not?" Angela asked.

"Kelley assigned another doctor."

"He can do that?"

"He did it," David said. He tried to align the piece of plywood, then get a nail out of his pocket. "I was furious at first. Now I'm resigned. The good part is that I don't have to feel responsible."

"But you will still feel responsible," Angela said. "I know you."

David had Angela hand him the hammer, and he tried nailing the plywood in place. Instead, one of the other window panes fell out and shattered on the floor. The noise brought Rusty out of Nikki's room to bark at the head of the stairs.

"Damn it all," David said.

"Maybe we should think about leaving Bartlet," Angela said.

"We can't just pick up and go. We've got mortgages and contracts. We aren't free like we used to be."

"But nothing is turning out the way we expected. We both have problems at work. I got assaulted. And this Hodges thing is driving me crazy."

"You have to let the Hodges affair go," David said. "Please, Angela."

"I can't," Angela said with new tears. "I'm even having nightmares now: nightmares about blood in the kitchen. Every time I go in there I think about it, and I can't get it out of my head that the person responsible is walking around and could come here any time he chose. It's no way to live, feeling you have to have a gun in the house."

"We shouldn't have a gun," David snapped.

"I'm not staying here at night when you go off to the hospital," Angela said irritably. "Not without a gun."

"You'd better be sure Nikki understands she's not allowed to touch it," David said.

"I'll discuss the gun with her tomorrow," Angela said.

"Speaking of Nikki," David said, "I happened to see Caroline in the emergency room. She's in the hospital with a high fever and respiratory distress."