“Work first,” Angie said. She meant to sound firm, but found that she had lost that knack. Which went along quite nicely with the fact that the bones in her legs, once very reliable, were now partially jelly; John’s doing. With a jerk of the head she went back to counting film canisters and battery packs.

Both Rivera and Tony would be taping, Rivera staying close by Miss Zula and Miss Maddie, Tony roaming. They had started the day with the usual argument about who got which digital video camera. Angie herself was loaded down with two still cameras, one digital, one 35mm, a small voice recorder, multiple notebooks, a phone, a beeper, and a walkie-talkie that would put her in touch with Rivera or Tony if she needed them.

The idea of a day running around in the July heat should have had her dragging with exhaustion, but in spite of the fact that she had had very little sleep—or maybe because of that—she flushed with adrenaline, fired up, ready to go. Work could do that for her when it was going well; good sex had the same effect. No wonder she was flying.

Rivera poked her in the ribs. “Wake up, Mary Poppins, we’ve got company.”

Markus Holmes was standing at the screen door, looking eager and embarrassed all at once.

Tony said, “I told Markus we could pay him for helping out with the gear, and if that works out, we’ve got the assistant position still open, right?”

“Sure,” Angie said. “Good idea.”

Tony put his palm on the crown of her head and wobbled it. Then he leaned in and whispered, “It’s okay to be happy, you know.”

Angie was suddenly very aware of how fortunate she was in her friends. If she asked for opinions she’d get them, unvarnished, but right now they were both studiously looking the other way, which was exactly what she needed. Sooner or later she’d want their thoughts on this situation she’d gotten herself into, but not now. Not today. Today they had to concentrate on work.

Just a few days ago Memorial Park had seemed huge, but at nine o’clock in the morning it was obvious that just about every inch of it would be put to use for this Jubilee. Tents had sprung up like mushrooms, all of them with official-looking banners in bright colors.

“Whole families just about move in for the duration,” Markus told them. “They won’t break camp until the fireworks are done, close to midnight.”