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Chapters (50)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. TITLE PAGE
  3. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  4. DEDICATION
  5. CONTENTS
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“Come over for dinner,” Donovan said. “We’ll use the everyday china.”

She smiled. “You have a sense of humor. I like that in a man.”

Donovan didn’t return the smile.

When he closed the door she picked up the phone. “Hi, Brad. Stop in and see me when you get a moment, will you? I just spoke with Mr. Donovan. We’re going to have to keep an eye on him; I’m not sure he’s the one we’re looking for after all.”

8

8

It was early evening when Nick pulled his car into the parking lot of the Skyline Motel. The lot was narrow, allowing just a single row of cars between the building and the street. The building itself was a single-story structure with white beveled siding and a black shingled roof, built in the days when land was cheap and the motor hotels that lined the highways looked more like long cottages than the corporate high-rises of today. The Skyline had been strategically located on the main intersection of Endor in hopes that the tourists on their way up into the Blue Ridge Mountains would stop off for a quick night’s rest. But the tourists turned out to be few and far between; there were better roads up into the mountains, and there were far more entertaining stop-offs than the little town of Endor.

The Skyline’s single virtue was that it was the only lodging place in town—which made it the FBI’s official residence for anyone associated with the Patriot Center case. Not for Kegan—she was from Charlottesville and had an easy commute; not for the Bureau’s forensic tech crew—they all lived near Quantico, and they didn’t mind getting up a little earlier in the morning for the privilege of seeing their wives and kids each night. That left just Nick and Marge—and Bosco, of course, who shared his trainer’s room. Nick imagined the King stretched out on satin pillows while his trainer camped out on the floor beside him. Then he imagined the motel catching fire and both of them perishing in the flames because the dog didn’t smell the smoke—but that was just wishful thinking.

He pressed the Lock button on his key fob, though he wasn’t sure why; he could probably leave the car doors open and no one would bother it here. He looked across the parking lot at the only other vehicle —a gleaming white SUV with the name Fidelis Search and Rescue Dogs emblazoned on the side. Impressive-looking car, Nick thought. I wonder if it has an engine.