The Maze

have dinner tomorrow night? Maybe you'll have made some decisions about Candice." Were they going to perform this same act every couple of weeks? Would he leave after tomorrow night? She hoped so. She hoped he'd leave for good. She was exhausted.

    He brightened at that and took her hands between his. "It's good to see you again, Lacey. I wish I could see you all the time, but-"

    "Yes, 'but,' " she agreed and stepped back. "I'll see you here about seven tomorrow night."

    Assistant Director Jimmy Maitland nodded to Lacey but said to Savich, "I heard from Captain Dougherty that Sherlock here didn't do what she was told to do, that she wrote her own script. He let some of it drop, then I pried the rest of it out of him. John Dougherty and I go way back. He's a good man, fair and hard."

    Savich didn't change expression, merely cocked his head to one side in question. "She got the job done, sir."

    "I don't like having my agents knifed, Savich. What the hell did she do?"

    "I can answer that, sir."

    Both men turned to look at her.

    "It better be good, Agent Sherlock," Jimmy Maitland said, and broke a pencil between two fingers. Maitland had been a Special Agent for twenty-five years. He was bald, built like a bull, and held a black belt in karate. His wife was five foot nothing, blond, and punched her husband whenever she wanted to. They had four boys, all over six foot three. She punched them whenever she wanted to as well.

    She shrugged. "Really, sir, the perpetrator took us a bit by surprise, that's all, but nothing we couldn't handle. Savich yelled out. I shot him at practically the same instant he threw the knife. I was already down and rolling when he released it. It's just a minor wound."

    "That's exactly what Savich said. Did you two rehearse this?"

    "No, sir, certainly not."

    Maitland raised an eyebrow at Savich, then said quickly, "Fine. Okay. You're excused, Agent Sherlock. Savich, you stay a moment, there's been another murder in Florida. It wasn't a nursing home on the Star of David matrix MAX generated. As for the perp disguised as an old woman, that doesn't look good anymore. They talked to every old woman in the nursing home. All of them longtime residents. Damnation! Tell MAX he's got to do better."

    "Agreed," Savich said. "I'll get Sherlock back on the Rad-nich case with Ollie. I'll see you later."

18

    SHE PRAYED HER INVOLVEment in the String Killer case would be kept under wraps, and it had been, at least so far. She knew that Savich had spoken privately with Captain Dougherty and Ralph Budnack. If anyone blew the whistle on her, it wouldn't be one of them. So far no one in the media knew anything about her relationship to one of the victims of the String Killer. It would be a nightmare if anyone found out.

    So far the FBI had gotten lots of good publicity: always a welcome circumstance for the continually besieged Bureau. Savich and his new FBI unit had brought down two killers in weeks. Reporters wanted to interview him, but he wasn't having any of it. No one was to speak to any reporters. Louis Freeh held a press conference, praising the work of the new Criminal Apprehension Unit. Savich had asked not to attend. Freeh had wanted him there but hadn't insisted.

    She avoided Hannah Paisley, working closely with Ollie to get back into the Radnich case. She wasn't looking forward to the evening with Douglas, but it couldn't be helped.

    Lacey dressed up that evening, wearing her hair loose, pulled back with two small gold combs, gold hoops in her ears that her mother had given her for her twenty-fifth birthday, a nice black dress that was classic enough to be two years old and still pass as current style, and three-inch heels. She felt strange in her different plumage and a bit exposed. But good. She felt really good. She realized at the last moment that Douglas could take it wrong. But there wasn't time to change.

    The first thing Douglas said when he walked in was "The

    sling looks awful with that dress" and grinned at her. "Don't you have several styles and colors to match different outfits?"

    The evening was lighthearted and amusing until near dessert, when Douglas dropped his good humor and said, "You've gotten what you wanted, Lacey. I want you to quit the FBI and come home. Surely you see that it's finally over, that it's your music that is important now. You nailed the guy who killed Belinda. Come home. Do what Belinda did. Come stay with me. I'll take care of you."

    She looked