SIGNS OF LIFE

Part 2:

By Moviegirl
 

Dee O'Connell rubbed the sleep from her eyes, squinted at the sunlight coming through the blinds, and sat up in bed. She looked around her bedroom, and then looked down at her clothes. She was still dressed in the clothing she had been wearing the night before; her shoes, socks, and jacket had been removed, and her shirt was untucked, but she was still fully clothed.

She got up and went out into the hall, but stopped when she heard voices. Panic started to build inside her until she recognized the now-familiar Australian accent. "Buggered if I know where to start with this. I mean, it's not exactly a proof of life."

Dee walked down the hall to the living room and saw Terry Thorne sitting on her sofa talking to a red-headed man. The man was standing and holding the box she'd received last night.

"I hear ya," the man said; his voice sounded familiar to Dee, but she couldn't place it. "How many years we been in K&R, Terry? And we get all kinds of things delivered to us as proof of life - ears, fingers…I even got a guy's - "

"You did not," Terry said, aghast.

"No kiddin'. Couldn't sit right for a week. But usually, I'm not fazed by any of it. So, how come I see a dead rat in a cardboard box and it creeps the shit outta me?" The man paced slightly, grimacing at the contents of the box. "I mean, it's just a dead, decapitated rat."

"It's Persephone," Dee interrupted him.

Terry stood up, and Dee almost smiled at the odd courtliness of the gesture. "Good morning, Doctor. Sleep all right?"

"Oh, yeah, just great. Nothing like a dead rat before bedtime to soothe your nerves."

"No, that would be the glass of brandy I gave you that did that," Terry smiled tenderly. "I'm sorry if we woke you. Uh, Dr. O'Connell, this is my partner, Dean Riley."

Dino held out his hand. As Dee shook it tentatively, he said, "Nice to meet you, Doc. Who's Persephone?"

Dee nodded in the direction of the box Dino had laid down on the coffee table. "That's Persephone. One of the research animals at the Collier Fisk labs. We used her to study behavioral patterns in addictive personalities."

"Charming," Dino said. "So, you know the deceased, huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "In a manner of speaking, yes. After the bad boys had their fun with her, they handed her over to us. Chris and me. We tested her behavioral patterns based on the amount of nicotine in her system."

"Hell of a way to make a living," Dino commented.

"And you have a normal job?" Dee shot back.

Terry waded into the tension, and said, "So, this act has more significance beyond your garden-variety terrorist threat." Now it was his turn to pace for a moment, stroking his lightly-stubbled chin thoughtfully. "Doctor, how long have you known Chris Dunne?"

Dee's eyes widened with rage. "What? Oh, no you don't!! Don't you dare go looking at Chris as some sort of prime suspect. You've met her, for Christ's sake! What could you be thinking?"

Terry put his hands in the air as though Dee had aimed a gun at him. "Take it easy. Just take it easy. I have to ask the questions, Doctor. It's my job. Yes, I've met her. I've just met her. She seems like a very nice woman. But I have to ask the question."He lowered his hands."All right?"

Dee took a deep breath. "All right. Okay. I've known her for about four years. We both came over from the States at about the same time - she came from Pfizer, I came from RJ Reynolds. She's a good person, Mr. Thorne. Sure, when you work twelve, thirteen hours a day in the same office space you can get on each other's nerves, but she's the steadiest person I know. I'm the flake in this particular equation."

Dino looked at Dee sympathetically. "We'll still have to do a background check on her, and on everybody you come in contact with at work. Outside of work, too."

Defeated, Dee waved her hand at him. "Great. Fine. Do whatever you want."

Terry took a step forward. "Doctor, we're doing this - "

"For my own good, yeah, I know. For my own protection," she said dismissively, cutting him off. "Mr. Riley…"

"It's Dino, please."

"Dino, I'll start making up my enemies list after breakfast, okay?"

Dino laughed. "Sure, no problem. I'm gonna take the late lamented Persephone to some of my guys, see if we can lift some prints off the box. You okay here? You didn't get any sleep last night."

Terry nodded. "I'm fine. Try and find out who has unlimited access to the lab animals, too. All right?"

Terry walked Dino to the door. "Okay. I'll be by later to take over, man," Dino said in a low voice. Lowering it even further, he added, "I think you're gonna need a break."

"You're not kidding, mate. Thanks." Dino waved to Dee, and Terry closed the door. "Doctor O'Connell, we need to talk." He gestured to Dee to take a seat on the sofa. To his amazement, she obeyed, eyeing him warily. He seated himself on the coffee table, just inches from her.

"Look, I need you to understand something. I'm not your enemy." She opened her mouth to object, but he held his hand up. "No, listen to me. You're treating me like the enemy. I'm not. You're an intelligent woman, so I think you realize now that you are in some kind of danger here. You need protection. You need help. And that's why Dino and I are here. If something happens, if someone makes an overt move to threaten your safety, we will be there to counter it. If we're not there - if you give us the slip, or make our jobs difficult to the point that our effectiveness is compromised - there is a very great probability that you will be killed." When Dee made no sound of protest, he continued, "Now, as I said, I know you're an intelligent woman, so I'm not going to ask you if you understand. You do. What I am asking you is whether you can trust me. Trust Dino. Because if there's some fundamental thing about me that makes you uncomfortable or distrustful of me, then you need to say so now. I'll go to Mr. Fisk, and he can hire another security consultant, no harm done. But you have to tell me now."

Dee looked at him as he leaned forward toward her, his elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped in front of him. She searched his cool, blue-green eyes for any sign that he was looking for a way out, any hint that she couldn't trust him. She found none. "No, I…I guess you'll do," she said, looking down at her own tightly folded hands.

Terry chuckled. "A ringing endorsement if ever I heard one. Thanks." He briefly placed his hands over hers. "I promise you, Doctor. You will be safe with me. My number one priority is your well-being, and I will do whatever it takes to guarantee it."

The warmth of his large hands on hers made Dee uncomfortable, so she broke the contact and ran her hands through her hair nervously."Um, right. Like, throw yourself in front of a bullet?" she joked.

"Well, I hope it won't come to that…" Terry kidded back, then turned serious. "But, yes."

There was total silence in the room for a moment. Then Dee stilled her nervous movements and said, "You really mean that."

Terry just shrugged, and gave her a sheepish half-smile. "So, what's on the schedule for today?"

"Day off," Dee replied. "I had planned…" Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head.

"What? What had you planned? Listen, unless you'd planned a day at a shooting range, or a knife-throwing contest, you should do whatever you'd normally do. You'll just have company, is all."

"Can't let the bad guys know they have me scared, huh?" Dee's face brightened slightly.

"Bloody right, we can't," Terry nodded.

"Well, then, Mary Poppins, I hope you know how to sit a horse, because I'd planned a nice day in the country." She rose from the couch and smoothed the millions of wrinkles from her shirt.

"You ride?" Terry asked incredulously. "Your bio says you're from Brooklyn, New York. Not exactly horse country."

"Ahhh, you've never heard of the Jamaica Bay Riding Academy, my good man. Best kept secret in Brooklyn. A little bit of heaven just off the Belt Parkway. Been riding since I was eight."

His eyebrow rose doubtfully. "Really? I learned in the Army, so I think we're good to go."

"All right then, I'm just going to shower and change," she said, then pointed to the duffel bag she'd just noticed on the floor. "I see you have your stuff, so you can go next."

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed.

As she headed for the bathroom, she called back over her shoulder, "Saddle up, bush ranger! We're going to the country!"

He heard the bathroom door slam, and smiled as he started to unpack his things. "Can hardly wait, Doc," he murmured.

* * *

The countryside was always vaguely disquieting to Terry Thorne; its tranquility, its open spaces, always spoke to him of dangers hidden below the surface, of battlefields yet to be soiled by blood. He knew, of course, that this was sheer paranoia and madness, that he'd been a soldier for far too long, that the simple beauty of the countryside was just that: simple.

Still...

"Come on, Mary Poppins, shake a leg," Dee called out to him as she sprinted across the grass toward the stables in the distance. They had parked in front of a large manor house, where an elderly butler she referred to as Pierson had affectionately greeted Dee.

"The master's out in the stables, Miss. Already waiting for you," Pierson had told her, with nary a glance at her companion.

Terry looked around trying to memorize the layout of the property. Way too much open space. Too many trees to use as a sniper's perch. This was not a good idea. He jogged behind her, his head constantly moving from side to side as he observed their surroundings. His eyes caught sight of the man standing at the door of the stable, waving happily at Dee as she approached.

"Nigel!" Dee shouted, waving back. She threw her arms around the man, who appeared to be about seventy. "It is so good to see you! How long has it been?"

"My, it must be three or four months," Nigel replied, returning her hug warmly. "The last two or three times you've come, I've been out of town. You look splendid, Dee. Just splendid." He kept his hands on Dee's arms as he looked over at Terry, who was still getting the lay of the land. "And who's this?"

"This is Terrence Thorne, a business acquaintance. Mr. Fisk asked me to look after him while he's visiting. Terry, this is Nigel Sutherland, the head of the Tech Division of Collier Fisk."

Nigel held his hand out to Terry, who shook it firmly. "A pleasure, Mr. Thorne."

"How d'you do, sir," Terry said.

Nigel looked at Terry quizzically. "Where are you visiting us from, may I ask?"

"The Sydney office," Terry replied. "I'm Deputy Chief of Security there."

"Ah," Nigel said. "Sydney." A chill crept into his voice. "Do you ride, Mr. Thorne? I imagine our English horses may seem a bit...sedate...compared to your Aussie mounts."

"Not at all, sir," Terry answered cheerfully, ignoring the snobbish tone Nigel had adopted. "I learned to ride in the British Army, so I've long since adjusted."

Dee cringed at the direction the conversation was starting to take, and broke in. "Let's get saddled up, shall we, Terry? I have been waiting for today all week."

"Right you are," Terry said.

"Will you be staying for lunch, Dee? I can have some cold meats and cheeses set up. I'm afraid we probably don't have any beer, Mr. Thorne," Nigel said condescendingly.

"No worries," Terry replied. "I may have learned to ride in Britain, but I haven't quite adopted the British habit of gettin' a gutful of piss by noon, mate." With a smile, Terry turned and held the stable door as Dee went inside, stifling a laugh as she passed him.

"Good on ya," she whispered to him as they disappeared into the stable.

* * *

"Does that happen to you often?" Dee asked as they rode slowly out of the paddock.

"Does what happen?"

"The way Nigel treated you. He was so…"

"Condescending? Yeah, it happens sometimes. I open my mouth, they hear I'm Australian, and my IQ drops at least fifty points in their eyes. It's usually folks his age, or older. It's not a big deal." Terry absent-mindedly patted his horse on the neck with one hand as he loosely held the reins in the other.

"It is a big deal to me," Dee replied. "And if he won't apologize, I will. I'm sorry he treated you that way, Mr. Thorne."

"Apology accepted. And do you think you could call me Terry?"

"I dunno, I'm so used to calling you Mary Poppins…"

"And you have no idea how much that annoys me."

Dee grinned slyly. "Oh, yes I have."

"Great," Terry moaned dramatically as he coaxed his horse into a trot.

Dee watched Terry as he rode; he seemed so at ease, so completely in sync with the animal, that she would have sworn he'd been born in a saddle. Her admiration of his riding technique was surpassed only by her appreciation of how he looked on horseback. Dressed in well-worn faded jeans, a pair of what appeared to be old combat boots, and a washed-out white and blue plaid flannel shirt, he looked comfortable. Relaxed.

Gorgeous, she mentally added with some reluctance. She found herself mesmerized by how he moved and swayed in perfect unison with the animal's movements, as though his body was merely an extension of the horse's.

Okay, that's enough, she told herself. Bringing her own horse up next to his, she said, "So, what's this, Mr. Thorne?" She pointed at his face, which was covered with two days' growth of golden-brown beard. "Did someone forget to shave this morning, or are you undercover as a common man of the people?"

Terry put one hand up to his own face. "Huh? Oh, sorry. Forgot my razor at my place."

"You could've used one of my disposables, you know." She noticed his increasing discomfort at this discussion of his personal appearance. Good God, he's actually shy, she thought to herself. This was an opportunity too good to pass up, so she continued, "Not that it bothers me, of course. I think it rather suits you. All manly-man, you know? Very attractive." She craned her neck slightly to get a look at his face; sure enough, a faint redness tinged his cheeks. "Ooh, check it out. You're blushing!"

Shifting in his saddle, Terry ran a nervous hand through his hair, and gave Dee a sidelong glance. "Christ, woman, do you never shut up?" he asked irritably.

"Not when I'm having this much fun, no," she replied, grinning. "Race ya." A gentle kick, and her horse galloped away.

Rolling his eyes, Terry muttered, "They don't pay me enough for this," and took off after her. He never lost sight of her, and finally overtook her near a large glass structure. He reached out and grabbed Dee's reins from her hands and brought both horses to a stop. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" Terry yelled at her. "You don't just go galloping off like that? Do you understand me?" At her blank expression, he finished, "Do you fucking understand me?"

Shaken, Dee looked down at Terry's hands on the reins. "I just wanted to feel free for a minute. Forget everything…just for a minute," she whispered, fighting back the tears that filled her eyes.

Terry took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry I yelled, it's just…" He handed the reins back to her, his hand brushing hers. "Shit, Dee, how am I supposed to protect you if you won't trust me? You said you could."

"I do. I do trust you," she replied. "I knew you'd be right behind me." She gestured toward the glass building a few hundred yards away. "I just… I'm sorry. I wanted to show you the greenhouse."

"The greenhouse?"

"Yeah. It's my favorite spot on the grounds. It's really beautiful in there. That's all." She finally looked up at him. "Wanna see it?"

His eyes softened, and he smiled at her. He dismounted, and stood next to Dee's horse as she did the same. "Yeah. Let's go see the greenhouse."

Dee stared at him as they walked the horses the rest of the way to the greenhouse. "You should do that more often."

He looked over at her. "Do what?"

"Smile. You have a really nice smile."

"Are you gonna start again?" he asked, a warning tone in his voice.

"No, no. I'm serious. I swear. You've got a killer smile on you, Thorne." She gave him a smile of her own.

"Yours isn't half-bad, either, O'Connell," he replied. "Now, if you'll just help me keep it on your face…"

"Yeah, yeah...rub it in," Dee laughed as they tied their horses to a post just outside the greenhouse. "From now on, I will be the very soul of cooperation."

"Oh, right," Terry groaned as he opened and held the greenhouse door for her.

"Look at the orchids!" Dee nearly squealed with delight. She grabbed Terry's wrist and dragged him over to the collection of snow-white orchids a few feet away. "Aren't they beautiful?"

He shrugged. "Guess so. See 'em all the time where I come from."

"Well, on this side of the planet, they're exotic and highly prized," Dee said haughtily.

Terry and Dee wandered around the greenhouse for a while, Dee rattling off facts and figures about every flower in the greenhouse, Terry looking warily through the glass for any sign of trouble from outside. Every now and then, he'd mumble "Really? I didn't know that," or "Is that a fact?" She seemed to be having such a good time; Terry had to admit he was actually starting to enjoy her company. Her enthusiasm, her love for the beautiful things around her, was rather endearing.

She's the cargo, Thorne, the little voice in his head scolded him. Look at the trouble you got into last time. Keep it strictly professional, totally -

Something glinted in the sun outside the greenhouse. "Get down!" Terry yelled, throwing himself on top of Dee and knocking her to the ground, just as the pane of glass next to them shattered. Shards of glass rained down on them; Terry shielded Dee's body with his own, and he felt the sting as one of the fragments tore through the back of his shirt.

The popping sound of gunfire continued; bullets shattered flowerpots and more windows. Terry reached for and found his gun, which was tucked in the waistband of his jeans; he whispered, "Stay down," then stood and returned fire in the general direction of the assault.

"Oh, God," Dee murmured as she huddled in a ball on the floor. Suddenly, Terry's body was back, shielding her. "What's happening?" she shouted above the din of gunfire and breaking glass.

"We have to move," Terry shouted back. "It's a turkey shoot in here. We have to get to the horses. At my signal. Stay low." He blindly held his gun out to return fire again, then yelled, "Go!"

They ran as quickly as they could, Terry hunched over Dee while also returning fire and dodging the glass that continued to shower them as the incoming bullets shattered each succeeding pane they passed. They stopped at the heavy metal door; Terry slapped another clip into his gun as Dee silently prayed. He left her hiding behind the door; he reached around it and fired, then made a mad dash for his horse, which was whinnying in panic but otherwise unharmed. He flung himself atop the horse, still firing, and rode back toward the door. "Come on!" he shouted, holding his hand out and down toward Dee. "Give me your hand!"

Timidly, Dee held a shaking hand out. Terry grabbed it, and with the horse still in motion, swept her up into the saddle. He had somehow managed to get her up in front of him so he could still shield her. He kicked the horse, and it galloped away from the greenhouse.

As they rode, the gunfire stopped, but Terry could hear the sound of car ignitions behind them. "Fuck," he hissed, coaxing the horse to go even faster. He took a quick glance behind him, and saw a black Jeep coming up on them in the distance. Ahead, he saw a forest, and right before it…

"What the hell? Can't be," he almost laughed. Just ahead of them, roped off, Terry saw tables and chairs, white linen tablecloths, a bandstand - complete with band - and a gathering of about seventy-five people dancing and talking.

"W-w-wedding reception," Dee stammered, nodding her head toward the bride and groom in the center of the gathering.

Terry looked back at the Jeep, which was almost within striking distance of them. "Hope they don't mind two more guests," he muttered as he spurred the horse on.

The horse vaulted over the ropes to the accompaniment of gasps and the occasional scream from the reception guests. People ran to get out of the way as Terry reined to a stop, glancing back at the Jeep. It stopped a few hundred yards from the ropes, then turned and sped back in the direction it had come from.

"G'Day, folks, how's everybody doin'?" Terry called out casually as he guided the horse around the tables. "Just checking to make sure everything's okay here." He gestured toward the groom. "Food all right?" The groom nodded dumbly as they passed. "Fine. That's fine. Well, cheers," he called, as the horse vaulted the ropes again and they rode off into the forest.

Terry's keen sense of direction guided them back to the main stable, where he finally dismounted and held his hand out to Dee to help her. When she made no move to dismount, he said gently, "Dee? C'mon down, love. It's all over, you're safe now." He helped her down, then brushed loose hair back from her face. "All right? Let me check you out."

He was pleased to find that aside from a small scratch on her cheek, she was okay, but as he finished his inspection her knees began to buckle. Terry quickly wrapped his arms around her as she began to sob, barely able to catch her breath. "It's all right now," he crooned to her as he rubbed her back gently in small circles. His other arm held her tightly against him. Her hands clawed and clutched at his back, grabbing handfuls of his shirt as he whispered, "Shhh, just breathe, mate. It's all right now. Just breathe. I won't let anybody hurt you. It's all right now."

* * *

"No, Nigel, I'm all right. Really. I'm just glad the horses are okay." Dee gave a thumbs-up sign to Terry, who was watching her intently as she talked on the phone. "Yeah. Um, no, I'm not at home right now. Why don't I call you tomorrow? Honestly, Nigel, I'm fine. Don't fuss. Okay. 'Bye." She pressed "End" on the cordless phone and placed it back in its cradle. She turned to Terry. "I was so worried about the horses. The way we had to leave mine behind."

"Had to be done. You were my only priority at that point," Terry said simply.

"I understand that. Really. I just couldn't help worrying." She shrugged, shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans, and looked around the room. "Nice place," she said, admiring the elegant, simple décor of Terry's apartment.

"Thanks." Terry was leaning with his back against a wall, arms folded. "You should stay here until I get a safe house set up for you. You can't go back to your place - it's not safe."
 

She shook her head. "I can't fucking believe this. What the hell did I ever do to anybody?"

Terry looked at her sympathetically. "That's what Dino and I are trying to find out. I'll call him in a bit, get him over here, but first, I need to make sure you're not hurt. I really should've taken you - "

"Ow," Dee said sharply, her hand flying to her right eye. "Shit."

Terry was immediately at her side, his hand grasping her wrist gently. "No, no. Don't rub it. It might be a piece of glass. Take it easy," he said, leading her over to the couch. When they were both seated, he continued, "Okay, now, I'm gonna take your hand away and have a look, all right? Just relax."

"What?" Dee said jokingly, "You're a soldier by day, ophthalmologist in your spare time?"

"Hey, a bloke needs a hobby," he retorted as he tipped her head back slightly, and removed her hand from her eye. Leaning in close to her face, he gently pried the lids open. Tears flowed from Dee's eye, and he wiped them away with his thumb. "Ah," he said, leaning in closer until his face was just inches from hers.

"Ah? Ah, what?" Dee asked, a hint of panic in her voice.

"Nothing, really. I just like your perfume," he answered casually as he continued his examination.

"Oh, thanks. It's Eau de Freakout," she tossed back.

Terry chuckled for a moment, then stopped. "There ya are, ya bugger," he whispered.

"Excuse me - ow!" Dee winced as she felt Terry's finger practically touching her eyeball.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed. "It's okay, Dee. You're fine."

She opened both eyes, and saw him hovering above her, so close she could feel his breath on her face. She had started to lean back on the couch, and realized that Terry's strong, muscular body was practically draped over her own. She froze, staring up into his blue-green eyes for a second before breathing, "My hero." The warmth of his body seeped into her, making her feel safe for the first time in a long time.

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, but maintained the closeness. "All in day's work, ma'am." His hand lingered at the side of her head, caressing the loose strands of hair.

"Was it glass?"

He held his hand up to her with only his little finger up. "Eyelash."

Dee squinted and saw the tiny offender. "Jeez," she said, rolling her eyes and laughing. She angled her head slightly and blew on his finger, sending the eyelash floating away.

Terry rose from the couch, and Dee mourned the loss of warmth and contact. "Let me get you something to drink. I have water, or juice, or something stronger if you'd like."

"I'd like," she said, "I'd definitely like. How strong ya got?" She got up to follow him into the kitchen, but stopped when she looked at the wall Terry had been leaning against a few moments before. She touched a finger to a thin red streak that stained the otherwise white wall; the finger came away wet with blood.

From the kitchen, Terry called, "I've got just about anything. Wine, beer - the good stuff, mind you, none of that watery British piss, or what you Americans call beer - hard liquor…"

Dee appeared in the doorway, holding up her bloodstained hand. His face paled. "Christ, where'd that come from? Are you all right? Come here," he said in a rush.

She stood perfectly still. "It's not mine," she replied softly. Gesturing toward the kitchen table and chairs, she said, "Sit down and take off your shirt."

"What?"

Dee walked over to him, grabbed his arm, and turned him around. "God, I never even noticed," she groaned when she saw the blood on the back of his shirt, and the jagged tear in the fabric.

Over his shoulder, Terry said, "Oh, right. I remember feeling something nick me. Not to worry, mate, I'll just clean that off when I take a shower."

"You're going to sit down and let me look at it right now," she said sternly, taking his arm and leading him over to the chair. "Now, take off your shirt."

Her tone brooked no argument, and Terry obediently sat down. "Bossy little thing, aren't you?" he murmured as he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off, wincing slightly. He was sorry he hadn't decided to wear an undershirt this morning, because he suddenly felt naked under her stare.

Dee took a cursory look at the wound - a jagged cut about three inches long just between his shoulder blades - then walked back over to the sink to wash her hands, asking, "Where's your bathroom? And do you have first aid supplies?"

"First door on your left in the hall. Y'know, you're going way overboard here," he protested. "It's a scratch, no big deal. A little piece of glass glanced off me."

"It didn't glance off anything. It's still in there," Dee answered offhandedly, and went into the bathroom. She emerged a moment later with a large first aid kit. She opened it and removed a pair of tweezers, a bottle of iodine and some rubbing alcohol. As she sterilized the tweezers, she groused, "Mr. Macho Man, walking around with glass in his back. What is with you men anyway?"

"Do you actually enjoy generalizing like that, or are you doing it special for me?" Terry replied in an acid tone. He watched as Dee laid the tweezers on a piece of gauze, removing more gauze from the roll.

"You do bring out the best in me, Terry," she said.

He smiled and placed his hand on his chest. "Be still, my beating heart, she called me Terry."

Slapping him lightly across the head, she said, "I'm going to clean the area off first. This might sting - but since you're a manly man, I think you can take it."

"You know, I'm starting to think the best way to deal with your wicked sense of humor is simply to ig - " Terry hissed as the iodine-soaked gauze pad touched the inflamed skin around the wound. He winced and clenched his teeth.

"You were saying?" Dee said innocently.

"Never mind. Do your worst, woman," Terry growled.

Dee looked at Terry's back as she cleaned the area around the cut, noticing the various scars scattered across his fair skin. Looking at the souvenirs of the numerous times he'd put himself in harm's way for others, she found herself overwhelmed by feelings of tenderness toward her protector. Suddenly, she wanted to protect him. She placed her hand on his neck and gently massaged the tense muscles there. Terry's head dropped forward slightly, and he let out a low, involuntary groan. "This happened because of me," she said softly.

"It happened because of the bad guys. None of this is your fault," he said drowsily.

She shook her head, even though she knew he wouldn't see it. Her free hand came up to trace a crescent-shaped scar just below his left shoulder.

"Your hands are cold," he murmured. She started to remove them from his skin, but he reached up and covered the hand on his neck with his own hand. "No, it feels good," he protested. "It feels nice."

"You're wrong, Terry. This is my fault. Someone wants me dead. They tried to kill me, and in trying, they hurt you. I'm so sorry." She traced the scar again. "You've been hurt enough."

They were silent for a moment, Dee kneading Terry's neck muscles as he sat with his eyes closed, breathing softly. "Um, I better get that piece of glass out," Dee suddenly said, patting Terry's hand and fumbling for a new gauze pad and the tweezers.

His head rose. "Yeah," he said to the wall.

"Yeah," she repeated, and set about her task.

* * *

"What's in L.A. for an eastern debutante
Cross the bridges cross the country cross your heart and hope to live
In a big white house
With Captain Blood and Mickey Mouse…"

Chris Dunne adjusted her headphones and continued typing, her head bobbing in time to the music as she sang along. Just a few more equations, maybe a couple of formulas, and she might just have something…

She screamed and jumped out of her chair when she saw the shadow suddenly looming over her. Her CD player clattered to the floor, yanking the headphones off her ears.

"Whoa! Take it easy!!" the red-headed man yelled, a bit startled himself.

"Who are you? What do you want? I know karate!" Chris said in a rush, picking up her keyboard and brandishing it like a weapon.

"Dr. Dunne? I'm Dino," the man said, trying to calm her down.

"You're Dino…who's Dino?" she asked, although the name did sound vaguely familiar.

"Dino. From the cell phone. Terry drove you home, you answered his cell?"

"Dino…Oh! Dino!" She lowered the keyboard, but didn't put it down. "Well Dino, you scared the crap out of me. Not smart."

"Yeah, you with the karate and all," Dino said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he pointed at the keyboard in her hand.

She put it down sheepishly. "I was gonna stun you with that, and then I was gonna kick your ass," she covered.

"Uh-huh. Anyway, I'm sorry I startled you. I stopped by your house, and your husband said you were working. Why so late?"

"You went to my house? Why?" Chris sat back down at her work station.

"Well, I'm doing background checks on everybody Dr. O'Connell associates with, and..."

"I'm a suspect? You think I'd do something to hurt Dee? I'm a suspect?" she repeated, the volume of her voice rising. He shrugged, and a big grin crossed her face. "Cool!"

"Cool?" Dino looked at her in astonishment.

"Dino, you have to understand something," Chris said, as though she were speaking to a child. "You and Terry come from a very different world than the rest of us mere mortals inhabit. My idea of excitement is when my kids have a sleepover and my husband has a business trip, and I get the remote all to myself. That's exciting to me. Now, before you tell me that it's not a joking matter, believe me, I understand that. It's just kind of a kick to hear the word 'suspect' in conjunction with my name."

Dino smiled. "Okay, I can accept that. So, mind if I sit down?"

"Sure, have a seat," she said, gesturing to the chair opposite her.

"You've known Dr. O'Connell for how long?"

"Little over four years, I think. I was working in R&D at Pfizer in Los Angeles, and was offered a job at Collier Fisk. Dee was already here about three months when I arrived. She was at RJ Reynolds before that, I think."

"Why'd you take the job? Kind of a big move, don't you think?"

"Sure, but the money was as big as the move," she replied candidly. "I talked to Brad - that's my husband - and the kids about it first. The kids were really jazzed; they're still young, so they thought the idea of moving to London and having friends who talked funny would be a blast. Brad's a writer, so he can do that anywhere. So, bang, zoom, just like that, here I was." Chris watched as Dino eyed her coffee mug. "You want some?"

"That'd be great. Thanks," Dino said happily.

She looked at him for a moment, then added, "Pot's over there, sunshine," she said, pointing over his shoulder.

Dino sighed in mock irritation, then rose and walked over to the coffeemaker. "So, you two work on the same project?"

"No. I'm working on flavor enhancements. Dee's the one saving the world from itself," she answered. "I guess that's why I didn't get Persephone in my mailbox, huh?"

He came back with his coffee mug and sat back down. "Yeah, I guess so. Dee's the only one working on the non-addictive tobacco angle?"

"She's all they can afford right now," Chris said. "They are dumping a shitload of money into this project. Imagine the kind of return on investment they'll get if she cracks this thing."

"I'm imagining the kind of money they'll lose if she doesn't," Dino countered.

"Yeah, well…not that it'll matter to the bigwigs."

"How's that?"

Chris leaned forward in her chair. "Ooh, now you're asking for company gossip. Don't know if you can be trusted."

Dino leaned forward as well. "Look at this face. Isn't this a trustworthy face?"

Chris tilted her head slightly and silently studied him. "Well…okay. It's not like the whole world doesn't know already. They've sunk just about everything into the nic-free project. If it fails, this whole company goes down. However, the guys in the window offices all have very nice, very golden parachutes to cushion their fall. They'll all be paid handsomely, we'll all be out on the street selling pencils."

"Well, Dr. Dunne, looks like you're off the suspect list. I'd think you would want the project to be a rip-roaring success."

"For more than one reason. Sure, I'd like a little job security. But this would really be great for Dee, and for research scientists everywhere. People always look at us like we're this little group of mini-Mengeles, you know? Like we're all some bunch of mad scientists trying to build the perfect beast. If one of us actually does something like create a non-addictive cigarette, people might look at us differently." Chris sighed.

"But what about all the disease research? Hey, Dr. Salk was a pretty popular guy."

"Ah, but medicine's different from consumer products. I'm talking about someone working for a consumer product actually saving lives. Pretty damned amazing," Chris rhapsodized.

"If you ask me, you're all pretty damned amazing," Dino said.

"Flatterer," she joked. "What about you? You run all over the world, saving people's lives, guarding them from whatever wackos are lurking in the bushes."

"I'm just a soldier for hire, Doc," Dino replied casually. "K and R's just a combination of salesmanship and firepower. And I've always been better at the firepower part. Now, Terry," he continued, leaning back and crossing his legs, "Terry's got it all going for him. The guy could sell DaVinci a paint-by-numbers kit. And he's just about the deadliest shot I've ever seen."

"Don't sell yourself short, Dino. I'm sure you do just fine," Chris said, smiling.

Dino watched as Chris rose and went over to refill her coffee mug. There was something about this woman - an air of confidence, a complete lack of pretense or guile - that fascinated Dino. Not surprising, buddy, considering what you're dealing with right now, he thought to himself. Your girl isn't exactly low-maintenance. "So, Chris," he said, shaking himself out of his reverie, "Do you know Dee's friends? She close to anybody besides you?"

"Well, not really. We put in some major hours here. I just got lucky that I met my husband during my 'slow years,'" Chris laughed. "She is friends with Nigel Sutherland. He's one of the mucky-mucks. Tech honcho, I think." She noticed Dino's eyebrow rise. "It's not like that, you pervert. He's gotta be seventy or so." She sat back down and stirred her coffee, lost in thought for a moment.

"What? Whatcha thinkin'?" Dino asked.

"It's funny. I never thought of Nigel being interested in Dee. Figured he'd think she was too young. But then, he went and married a woman a few years younger than both Dee and myself."

"No kidding? How juicy," Dino said seductively.

"Yeah. The divine Julia."

Dino hoped Chris didn't notice his face pale. "Julia, you said?"

"The divine Julia. At least she thinks so. We jokingly call her The Black Widow. Not six months after they got married, Nigel was diagnosed with congenital heart failure. Everybody said they figured he was going to be having a lot more sex now!" They both laughed. "That's mean," she finished, trying to control herself. "I shouldn't say that. Maybe she loves the old guy."

"Yeah. Maybe." Dino glanced over at the clock on the wall. "Holy shit, is that the time? I'm supposed to check in with Terry and get over to relieve him. I don't think he's slept in about sixty hours."

"Jeez, the poor guy. Having to deal with sleep deprivation and Dee? He's a goner!"

Dino took out his cell phone and dialed. As the phone rang, he said to Chris, "Terry's probably stomping around cursing me right about now."

* * *

Dee was putting one last strip of tape on Terry's back when his cell phone began dancing on the kitchen tabletop; he'd put the phone on vibrate, and the buzzing sent the phone jumping in every direction. When Terry made no move to answer it, she said, "Hey, Terry, you gonna answer that?"

Terry had leaned forward during her ministrations, his forehead resting on his arms, which were on the table. "Um, hello...Mary Poppins?" Dee tried again, nudging him for emphasis. She crouched down next to him; his deep, even breathing told her he'd fallen asleep. She stood up, smiling, and placed a hand gently on his hair. "Practically perfect in every way," she muttered affectionately as she reached over him to grab the phone. "Hello? Terrence Thorne's line."

"Dr. O'Connell? This is Dino."

Dee stepped into the living room. "Oh...hi, Dino. What's up?"

"Uh, nothing. Is everything okay? Where's the big guy?"

She turned toward the kitchen to see Terry rushing at her, hastily donning his shirt. He gestured to her to give him the phone. "He's just getting dressed, Dino," Dee said naughtily, watching Terry's jaw drop.

He snatched the phone angrily from her hand. "Hey, mate. It's me," he said hastily. "What's up?"

"Just getting dressed? What's going on over there, Terrence?"

"Not what the doctor here would have you think, mate," he growled. He rubbed the fatigue from his eyes. "I was going to call you, but I nodded off for a minute. We've had a bit of trouble."

"Trouble? Everything okay, T? You guys all right?"

"Yeah. Couple of cuts and bruises. Nothing serious. But someone decided to use the doctor for target practice this afternoon."

"Not good. Where'd this happen?"

"At a friend's estate. Nigel Sutherland. I'm going to go back there and nose around a bit, see who saw what." Terry stifled a yawn, holding the phone away from his mouth.

"Not tonight, you're not, man. You haven't slept in a dog's age, and you just dodged some bullets. Get some sleep. Where are you, by the way?"

"My place," Terry replied sleepily. "We're gonna need to set up a safe house. You think we could use Luthan's?"

"You wanna ask Havery?" Dino asked incredulously.

"Well, it's not like he's using it, from what I'm hearing."

"What are you hearing?"

"They're going belly up."

"Luthan Risk? You're shittin' me," Dino gasped.

"I shit you not, mate," Terry replied. "Hey, maybe if we offer to pay rent on it…" He laughed. "Oh, what the hell, I'll give him a ring tomorrow about it. Dee's safe here for now."

"It's Dee now, is it?" Dino teased.

"I'll see you in thirty minutes," Terry said, ignoring him.

"Try and keep your hands off each other until I get there, you bad boy," Dino answered, and hung up.

Dee looked at Terry innocently as he stalked toward her, holding the phone tightly in his hand. "What? What did I do? He asked for you, and I told him what you were doing. Was I lying? Huh? Was I? Terry? Say something," Dee babbled as Terry stepped even closer to her.

He stopped inches away from her, and burst out laughing. "God, I'm getting punchy," he said, catching his breath.

"You need some sleep," Dee said. "Why don't you go to bed? I'm fine here."

"No, I don't want to leave you alone anywhere," he answered, rubbing his eyes again tiredly.

"Okay, fine. How about a compromise?" Dee bridged the slight gap between them, took his hand, and led him to the sofa. "Sit," she commanded. He obeyed, and Dee grabbed his legs and swung them up onto the couch. She placed a hand on his forehead and pushed. "Lie down," she said.

"What am I, bloody Lassie or something?" he complained, but did as she ordered.

She grabbed a throw from the back of one of the chairs, and spread it over him. She passed a hand over his hair, and said, "Now go to sleep. I'll stay right here in the room with you and read until Dino gets here. Then you can get some proper rest, and so can I."

"Somehow," he yawned, "This seems the wrong way 'round. Who's supposed to be watching whom?"

"I won't tell if you won't," she whispered as he dropped off to sleep. She ran her hand through his hair one more time. "My hero," she said again.

* * *

Pierson led Terry into the Great Room of Nigel Sutherland's enormous manor house, and Terry couldn't help but whistle softly at the sheer size of the place. "You must have some cleaning staff here, Pierson," Terry said.

The butler simply shrugged, "It's no larger or smaller than any manor staff, sir," he answered, "But we do keep busy around here."

"I'm sure, what with a new lady of the house," Terry added. Before he left this morning, Dino had given him an update on his conversation with Chris Dunne, complete with the news that Nigel Sutherland had recently taken on a much-younger wife.

Pierson seemed at a loss as to how to reply. "Madam is…acclimating herself gradually to the situation," he said hesitantly.

"Hmm," Terry replied. "Well, thanks very much, Pierson. You don't have to stay around with me 'til Himself shows up."

"Oh, that's quite all right, sir," Pierson said. "Here's the master now." He nodded deferentially to Terry, then to Nigel as he entered the room.

"Thank you, Pierson," Nigel acknowledged the butler as he left. Terry was mildly impressed by that; most "Lords of the Manor" treated their help as though they were invisible. "Mr. Thorne, how very glad I am to see you," Nigel exclaimed as he held his hand out to Terry.

"Mr. Sutherland," Terry said, shaking his hand. "How are you, sir?"

"I should be asking you that," Nigel corrected him. "Are you quite all right, Mr. Thorne? I just got off the phone with Dee. She told me you were injured in that terrible business yesterday."

"I'm fine, sir. She's exaggerating a bit. I just got a little cut up."

"Still…" Nigel shook his head. "I'm afraid I owe you an apology for my behavior when we met. It was quite rude."

"Thanks, apology accepted," Terry smiled. "And I hear I owe you best wishes on your marriage, albeit a few months late."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Thorne. Very kind of you."

"Terry. Please."

"Nigel," he replied. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea? I see Pierson brought it already. Dear old Pierson."

Terry sat down in an enormous high-backed chair, while Nigel sat in the chair opposite, and poured the tea. "Yes, thanks, I'd love some. Pierson's a nice old bloke. Been with you long?"

"Dear me, his father was my father's manservant! We were boys together - played football, the whole lot." He noticed a strange look come over Terry's face. "It must sound very strange to you, Terry. Pierson and I grew up together, and now he's a servant. I know it doesn't sound very fair."

"I'm not one to judge, sir," Terry said, although it did sound terribly unfair. At what point did Nigel - or Nigel's father - turn to Pierson and say, 'You are no longer a friend, you are now the help'? Terry could never understand the upper classes.

"Well, thank you for that. So many people do, you know. May I ask you a question, Terry?"

"Sure, go ahead." Terry took the teacup from Nigel's hand - he noticed the slight tremor - and sat back in the chair.

"You're a private security consultant, is that correct?"

"That's correct," Terry answered.

"What were you before? Military?"

"Yes, sir. I was in the British Army. Special Air Service. Before that, the Australian Army."

"Ah, I thought so. Delighted to hear it. I'm glad Dee has someone as qualified as you taking care of her."

"And she's a handful," Terry added with a grin.

"She is that," Nigel agreed.

"Mr. - Nigel, sorry - Nigel, these are private grounds, isn't that right?"

"Well, yes. Yes, of course they are. They're my home. I do rent out some space for weddings and the like. I think you may have, um, run into one yesterday."

Terry chuckled. "So we did. Who's in charge of your security? Someone must have allowed that Jeep in that chased us onto the grounds."

"I have a number of men working for me in that respect. Who was working the gate yesterday? Let me think…I believe it was Humphries. He just joined the staff a few months ago."

"Humphries? What's his first name?" Terry took a PDA from his inside jacket pocket and withdrew the stylus.

"John, I believe. Yes, John Humphries."

"Where'd he work before?" Terry started taking notes.

"I have no idea. I suppose you could ask Julia. She handled the latest round of staffing." Nigel shrugged.

"I'll do that, thanks. So, Mrs. Sutherland hired some new staff?"

Nigel nervously stirred a sugar cube, then another, into his tea. "Yes. Terry, you're not suggesting anything, are you?"

"Oh no, of course not," Terry said. "Not at all. I'm just thinking that someone - this Humphries, perhaps - may have falsified their credentials, misled your wife in some way. I apologize if my questions seemed accusatory, sir."

"No, no, it's me. I'm very protective of my wife. You should hear some of the things I've heard said about her. I've heard her called a gold-digger. Ludicrous. She's a very successful woman in her own right," Nigel rambled.

"You love her very much," Terry commented.

Blushing, Nigel replied, "Does it show that much?"

"Only all over your face."

"I must seem like a terrible old fool, gushing so about my new, young wife. But there's nothing prurient about this at all, Terry, you must understand. She makes me feel young again. And - dare I say it - desirable." Terry simply smiled and nodded. "Not that you'd ever have to worry about that, a handsome fellow like yourself." Nigel leaned forward a bit in his chair. "Are you married, Terry?"

"Divorced, sir. So, can you think of any other - "

The heavy doors of the Great Room flew open. "Nigel, sweetie, there you are! Pierson told me - " The tall, coltish woman stopped in her tracks. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't know you had company."

Both Nigel and Terry stood when she entered, Terry eyeing her carefully. So this is the divine Julia, he thought to himself. Julia Sutherland stood before them in a slim tan suede skirt and brown cashmere turtleneck that made her long neck seem impossibly longer. Her auburn hair fell in curls to her shoulders, emphasizing enormous brown eyes, and a huge, inviting smile. She seemed fresh, exuberant.

Terry disliked her instantly.

"Hi," she enthused, extending a perfectly manicured hand to Terry. "I'm Julia Sutherland, Nigel's wife."

As Terry shook her hand, Nigel said, "Darling, this is Terrence Thorne. He's - "

"The hero! Oh, I'm so happy to meet you, Mr. Thorne! When Nigel told me what happened yesterday, my God! I was just mortified. Poor, sweet Dee. Is she okay?"

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am. She's fine, just rather shaken up," Terry said politely.

"Well, thank the good Lord you were there, Mr. Thorne. You saved her life. Are you all right? Here, let me have a look at you." Julia Sutherland took Terry's hands in hers and peered at him intently. "You look just fine to me," she said seductively.

"You must forgive my wife," Nigel interjected good-naturedly, "She just can't help herself. Her inner Southern belle just erupts now and then."

Terry extricated himself from her grasp. "No worries," he said lightly. "Mrs. Sutherland, I was just speaking to your husband about Mr. Humphries, the gentleman who was hired recently."

"Oh. Johnny? He wouldn't hurt a fly, Mr. Thorne. Sweet as can be."

"Did he give you a resume?"

"Of course. I wanted to be very thorough when I stepped up security here."

"Stepped up? Has there been trouble?" Terry looked over at Nigel. What hadn't he told him?

"No, nothing overt. I just didn't think it was very secure around here. And now that Nigel wants to hire some of the grounds out - "

"Why is that, sir, if you don't mind my asking? Is it necessary for you to hire the grounds out?"

"I'm afraid it is. These old manor houses and estates are an absolute bear to keep up, and it was either hire out the grounds for parties and the like, or give the house to the National Trust. It was Julia's idea, and a marvelous one, if I may say so. I was appalled by the thought of suddenly being a tenant in my own home."

Terry nodded sympathetically. "I understand. Yes, you're right, it makes perfect sense. Good idea, Mrs. Sutherland, although I'm afraid yesterday's renters didn't quite get what they paid for."

"Are you kidding?" Julia gushed, "They were thrilled! I got a call this morning, as a matter of fact. The bride's mom thought we staged all of that as added entertainment. You were quite a hit. And I quote, 'That knight on horseback thing was just grand, but maybe you should get him a suit of armor next time!'" She took Terry's hand again and squeezed it, erupting in a laugh so loud, Terry swore it created a breeze.

To be polite, he laughed slightly, then rescued his hand. "I don't know that I'd look particularly good in armor, ma'am. Besides, I hear it chafes terribly. If you'd be so kind, Mrs. Sutherland, could I see Mr. Humphries's resume?"

"Oh! Of course. Um…I don't have it right here. It's in my office in the guesthouse. Would it be all right if I e-mailed it to you? Or, if you wouldn't mind waiting, we could go over there together right now."

"No, e-mail would be fine, thanks. Just get it to me as quickly as you can, if you would. Also, if you could send me the resumes of any other recent hires?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Thorne. Anything to help find the awful men who are trying to hurt Dee. She's been so nice to me, you know. I felt like a fish out of water when I came here, and she was like a lifeline to the States for me. I'm sure you know how it feels, Mr. Thorne." She leaned in conspiratorially. "It's just awful. But it's always so nice to find people you have something in common with."

"Actually, I don't really know, ma'am. I'm Australian. We fit in just about anywhere," Terry joked.

Nigel laughed heartily. "So you do, Terry. So you do!" He shook Terry's hand again. "Please do call me if you need anything else. And when this whole horrid business is over, I want you to pay us a social call. Any time."

"Cheers, mate, I'll do that," Terry replied.

"Oh, I do hope we can be mates, Terry. I like you very much. I think we'll be great friends."

"Darling, don't trouble yourself. I can show Mr. Thorne out," Julia said, blocking Nigel's way and slipping her arm through Terry's. As they left the room and headed for the front door, Julia whispered to him, "I am so glad you took Dee's case, Terry. I may call you Terry?"

"My partner told me about the situation, and after meeting with Mr. Fisk, we both felt we could do some good."

"Herb's a nice guy. I told Dino that the two of you would be perfect for the job, and when he got on so well with Herb, I knew it was just going to be a slam dunk when he saw you."

Pierson magically appeared, and held the door for both of them. Terry absent-mindedly said, "Thanks, Pierson."

"Very good, sir. Safe driving," Pierson called to him as he shut the door.

Terry and Julia stood on the marble steps. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Sutherland, I don't think I quite heard you correctly. Do you know my partner?"

"Dino? Of course I do. We're…friends," Julia replied, her voice dripping with innuendo. "He didn't tell you he knew me? Or that I hooked you up with this case? Bad Dino!" she giggled.

Terry suddenly felt even more uncomfortable than he did before - if that was possible. He reached into his pocket, and handed her a business card. "My e-mail address is on this. If you could send those documents to me…"

"Oh, I have your e-mail address already, but thank you," she said cheerfully. "And like Pierson said, do drive safely." As Terry nodded and walked toward his car, she called after him, "See you soon, I hope, Terry."

Terry slipped into the driver's seat and started the ignition. "What the hell goes on here?" he muttered irritably, reaching for his cell phone. He dialed Dino's number, and got voicemail on the third ring; he must be on his other line. "Dino, it's Terry," he said. "We have to talk, mate. About a lot of things."

ON TO PART 3

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