The man was foaming at the mouth and jerking uncoordinatedly. It was clear to Kim he was about to die.

"Is he hurt?" Tracy managed. Wincing against the pain in her chest, she pushed herself to a sitting position.

"He's as good as dead," Kim said. He stood up and began searching for the gun.

"Oh, no!" Tracy moaned. "I can't believe it. I can't believe I killed someone."

"Where's the gun?" Kim demanded.

"Oh, God!" Tracy managed. She couldn't take her eyes off Carlos who was agonally choking.

"The gun!" Kim snapped. He got down on his hands and knees. He found Carlos's knife but not the gun. Moving over to the stalls, he bent down again. At last he saw it behind the first toilet. Reaching in, he pulled it out.

Stepping over to the sink, he grabbed a paper towel and wiped the weapon clean.

"What are you doing?" Tracy asked through anguished tears.

"Getting rid of your fingerprints," Kim said. "I want only my prints on this thing."

"Why?" Tracy demanded.

"Because whatever comes of this mess, I'm taking responsibility," Kim said. He gripped the weapon, then tossed it aside. "Come on! We're getting out of here!"

"No!" Tracy said. She went after the gun. "I'm in this as much as you."

Kim grabbed her and pulled her upright. "Don't be foolish! I'm the accused felon here. Let's go!"

"But it was in self-defense," Tracy complained tearfully. "It's terrible, but it's justifiable."

"We can't trust what kind of spin the legal profession might put on this," Kim said. "You're trespassing and I'm here under false pretenses. Come on! I don't want to argue now!"

"Shouldn't we stay here until the police come?" Tracy asked.

"No way," Kim said. "I'm not going to sit in jail while this all gets sorted out. Come on now, let's go before anybody gets here."

Tracy doubted the wisdom of fleeing the scene but she could also tell that Kim's mind was made up. She let herself be led from the men's room. Kim looked up and down the hall, surprised that the shots had not brought any of his cleaning crew colleagues.

"How did you get in here?" Kim whispered.

"Through the record-room window," Tracy said. "The same window you broke."

"Good," Kim said. He took Tracy 's hand. Together they dashed to the record-room door. Just as they were entering, they heard approaching voices.

Kim motioned for Tracy to be silent as he quietly closed and locked the door. In the darkness they first went to the library table, where Kim snatched up the incriminating papers. Then they made their way to the window. Through the wall, they heard commotion in the men's room followed by running footsteps down the hall.

Kim climbed out first. Then he helped Tracy. Together they dashed for Tracy 's car.

"Let me drive," Kim said. He jumped behind the wheel while Tracy got into the backseat. He started the car and drove quickly out of the parking lot.

For a while they drove in silence.

"Who could have guessed it would have turned out like this," Tracy said at last. "What do you think we should do?"

"Maybe you had the right idea back there," Kim said. "Maybe we should have called the police ourselves and faced the consequences. I suppose it's not too late to turn ourselves in, although I think we should call Justin Devereau first."

"I've changed my mind," Tracy said. "I think your first instinct was correct. You'd certainly go to jail and probably me too, and it would probably be a year before there even was a trial. And then who knows what would happen? After the O.J. Simpson case I have zero confidence in the American court system. We don't have a million dollars to throw away on Johnny Cochrane or Barry Scheck."

"What are you implying?" Kim asked. He cast a quick glance at Tracy in the rearview mirror. She never failed to surprise him.

"What we talked about last night," Tracy said. "Let's go far away and deal with this mess from abroad. Someplace where the food is uncontaminated so we could continue our fight against that issue as well."

"Are you serious?" Kim asked.

"Yes, I'm serious," Tracy said.

Kim shook his head. They'd mentioned the idea and even had their passports, but he'd truly not taken it seriously. In his mind it had been more of a desperate scheme of last resort, something to consider in a worst-case scenario. Of course, thanks to the killing, he had to admit things couldn't have turned out much worse than they had.

"Of course we should call Justin." Tracy added. "He'll have some good suggestions. He always does. Maybe he'll know where we should go. There are probably some legal issues relating to extradition and all that."

"You know what I like best about the idea of us going to a foreign country?" Kim said after a few minutes of silence. He looked up to make eye contact with Tracy in the rearview mirror.

"What's that?" Tracy asked.

"That you're suggesting we do it together," Kim said.

"Well, of course," Tracy said.

"You know," Kim said. "Maybe we shouldn't have gotten divorced,"

"I have to admit the idea has crossed my mind," Tracy said.

"Maybe something good will come from all this tragedy," Kim said.

"If we did get remarried, I know we couldn't have another Becky, but it would be nice to have another child."

"You'd really want to?" Kim asked.

"I'd like to try."

Silence again reigned for a time as the former lovers struggled with their emotions.

"How long do you think we will have before the authorities catch up with us?" Tracy asked.

"It's hard to say," Kim said. "If you're asking to know how long we have before we have to make up our minds about what we're going to do, I'd say we don't have much time. I think we have to decide in twenty-four to forty-eight hours."

"At least that allows us time for Becky's services tomorrow," Tracy said, choking up all over again.

Kim felt tears arise in his own eyes with the mention of Becky's imminent funeral. Despite his best efforts to avoid facing it, Kim could no longer deny the horrible fact that his beloved daughter was gone.

"Oh, God!" Tracy whimpered. "When I close my eyes I can see the face of the man I shot. It's something I'll never be able to forget. It'll haunt me the rest of my life."

Kim wiped the tears off his check and took an uneven breath to pull himself together. "You have to concentrate on what you said back in the men's room. It was justified. If you hadn't pulled the trigger and shot him, he would surely have killed you. And then he would have killed me. You saved my life."

Tracy closed her eyes.

It was after eleven o'clock when they pulled into Tracy 's driveway and parked behind Kim's car. They were both completely drained: physically. mentally, and emotionally.

"I hope you're planning on staying here tonight," Tracy said.

"I was hoping I was still invited," Kim said.

They got out of the car. Arm-in-arm they walked up the path toward the house.

"Do you think we should call Justin tonight?" Tracy asked.

"Let's wait until morning," Kim said. "As wired as I am, I don't know whether I'll be able to sleep, but I need to try. At this point I really can't think much beyond taking a long, hot shower."

"I know what you mean," Tracy said.

They climbed onto the porch. Tracy got out her key and opened the door. She stepped inside and made way for Kim. She closed the door and locked it. Only then did her hand grope for the light switch.

"Wow, that seems bright," Kim said, squinting at the overhead light.

Tracy used the dimmer to cut the glare.

"I'm a basket case," Kim admitted. He slipped out of his Higgins and Hancock white coat and held it out at arm's length. "This thing should be burned. It's probably got E. coli plastered all over it."

"Just throw it away," Tracy said. "But it's probably best to throw it in the trash barrel outside in the back. I can only imagine what it's going to smell like in the morning." She took off her own coat and winced at the pain in her chest. Something hard had struck her just to the left of her sternum when Carlos had collided with her. At the time the pain had been so acute she'd thought she'd been stabbed.