“I know it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense,” she said. “At first I told Lauren no. But then I realized it might be God opening a door for me to tell more people about Jesus. This isn’t about Lauren. It’s about trusting God.”

“What about the indictment?” I demanded.

“Lauren said she’s taken care of that, for the time being at least.”

“Uh-huh. And Nichols?”

“He’ll be at the hearings.”

“Abby, I don’t like this. I don’t like it all. There’s no telling what might happen to you up there.”

I marched into the kitchen and got a glass of water to simmer down. I breathed deeply and leaned back against the counter, my eyes closed. There’s no telling what might happen to you up there.

“What are you doing?” Abby asked.

I looked over at her leaning against the entrance to the kitchen. I wanted to protect her, but I couldn’t keep her locked up in Dallas. “Thinking.”

“About what?”

“I’ll let you know in a minute.” I closed my eyes again. When I reopened them a minute later, she was still standing there.

“So?” she asked.

“It’s time to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“To DC.”

“I thought you said that was a bad idea.”

“It might be. But staying here is a worse idea. Lauren just tapped for you. If she knows where you are, Nichols probably knows where you are. That means you need to leave. We’ve done what we can here, anyway. DC is the best place to continue the investigation. NTI is up there. Your grandfather lived there. The mental hospital is in Boston, two hours away. Nichols lives just north of that.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “So what are you saying? I should go knock on Bryson Nichols’s door?”

“No. But at least we’ll be close if something like that becomes necessary.”

“We’ll be close?”

“You don’t think I’d let you go by yourself, do you? Did Lauren say when the hearings are being held?”

“In three weeks. She said she’d be in touch on the details.”

“Okay.” I stepped past her and headed to the stairs.

“Okay, what?”

“Let’s get packed,” I answered. “I’ll have Alistair get us a flight.”

“But, Creighton—”

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to her.

“Where are we going to stay in Washington?”

“At separate places in case someone tracks me through my chip. They can’t track you. We’ll rendezvous wherever we need to go.”

“Creighton, I…”

I took a step toward her, put a hand on her arm, and tried to smile. “We’ll be fine. We’re just taking precautions, that’s all.”

Three hours later I loaded our luggage into the back of the car and climbed in after Abby.

“Destination?” the car asked.

“DFW Airport.” I looked at Abby and smiled. “Ready for DC?”