Her eyes, calm and green, met his. “That’s exactly right. If I can do what I’ve theorized, and the authorities listen and act, this will be over. I’m putting my life in your hands, Captain Anson, because Brooks trusts and respects you without qualification.”
“Let’s go in, have some coffee,” Anson said after a moment, “and talk this through.”
* * *
She insisted on driving back.Brooks had barely slept in thirty-six hours, and would be on duty within another six. So he kicked back the seat and caught a little sleep on the drive.
And gave her time to go over everything, again.
Joseph Anson would go to Chicago, make contact. He would not use or reveal the name Abigail Lowery but tell Agent Garrison that Elizabeth Fitch had come to him, told him the story, given him the agent’s name. He’d relate information Abigail had previously funneled to Garrison.
If Garrison followed her previous pattern, she wouldreport only to her direct superior. Then the process would begin.
So many things could go wrong.
But if they went right…
She could belong to the man sleeping beside her. She could learn what to do at backyard barbecues. She could become Abigail so that everything that happened from that point on would be real.
She would finally look out from the witness chair in the courtroom, stare into the eyes of Korotkii, Ilya, Sergei Volkov, and speak the truth. As Elizabeth.
No, as Liz, she thought. At least in her mind, she’d speak as Liz for Julie, John and Terry.
And she’d use everything she’d learned in the past twelve years to strip the bones of the Volkov organization clean.
* * *
He stirred as she turnedtoward her cabin.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“Some of both.” He brought the seat back up, scrubbed at his face with his hands. “So I was thinking you should ask me to move in with you. I’m practically living here now,” he added, when she said nothing. “But maybe you could make it official.”
“Do you want to live here so you can protect me?”
“That would be a side benefit. Other side benefits include having my stuff handy, some closet and drawer space, and easy access to sex. All of those are pluses, but the main reason I want to live here is because I love you and I want to be with you.”
She sat for a moment, looking at her cabin. Hers, she thought. The house, the gardens, the greenhouse, the little creek, the woods. She’d come to think of them as hers, to feel that belonging. For the first time, she’d come to think of a place as home.
Hers.
“If you moved in, you’d need security codes and keys.”
“They’d sure be handy.”
“I’d like to think about it, if that’s all right.”
“Sure.”
The single word, so easy as he got out of the car, opened the back for the dog to jump out, told her he was confident he’d overcome any objections she might voice, and have his way.
It should have irritated her, she thought. It should even insult her. And yet it did neither. It simply reminded her who he was.
Theirs. She tried out the word, let herself wonder over it while they waited for Bert to relieve himself after the drive.
Theirs in the pretty, star-dazzled night, with the flowers glowing, the creek murmuring and the soft breeze urging the leaves to whisper an answer.
