gotten consulting work with the FBI. He had told her in no uncertain terms, “I have been self-sufficient and independent since my divorce, seven years now, and I have no intention of becoming Mr. Jessica Coran, M.E., thank you.”
“ I can accept that,” she'd told him, laughing in response.
They had had a wonderful reunion after he had landed. They had wined and dined at Anatole's Riverfront, and he stayed the first week with her at her Quantico apartment, but since then they had been house hunting, both of them knowing they needed far more space than the apartment provided. Jessica's and Richard's books alone would need an additonal room.
“ I have known relationships and marriages that have overcome great obstacles and painful hurdles,” Richard had told her, “but none can overcome shoulder-to-shoulder crowding.”
Richard's height rivaled her own, and they seemed so well matched in so many other ways; they both loved the theater and their taste in music proved to each admirable, and they both held a keen sense of right and wrong, justice and injustice. Both had devoted their lives to law enforcement, and while he was twelve years her senior, she had long ago accepted the fact that she found older men far more to her liking and far sexier than men her own age.
So they had spent these past few weeks house hunting, and they had come upon the perfect place: a lovely little farmstead with tie-ups for cows and horses in a well-lit barn, and the house itself something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. It was within a half hour's drive to Quantico, Virginia, where both of them now worked. It appeared and felt too good to be true, down to the white fence that ran the length of the forty-acre ranch-style farmstead. Already, Jessica was trying to determine a good name for their home. “It reminds me of Donegal, Ireland, a place I always planned to retire to, until I fell into pursuit.”
“ Pursuit?”
“ Pursuit of you… pursuit of real happiness. Real happiness is never about a place; it's something we can only derive from the one we love, and only then if one is loved in return.”
Jessica dared to believe that here, finally, stood a man who could give and give, and the well would never be empty; in fact, it seemed the more he gave, the more he had to give. She could hardly believe that the one thing she could never fully achieve with anyone, the idea of complete and true passion in its most literal sense, could be hers.
She had kissed him then and told him, “We'll name our home Pursuit then, so that neither one of us ever forgets that we're in this for the pursuit of happiness.”
“ Lovely,” he replied. “Then it's done. Now we can take our time and populate the place with some livestock. I love horses and riding.”
“ So do I, but I was thinking of populating the place with children.”
“ Children… at my age?”
“ And why not?”
“ Good show. We'll all ride together, you, me, the children.” He smiled. “Yes, all of us in pursuit at Pursuit.”
Their laughter drifted over the valley and down to the realtor, who had patiently allowed them an opportunity to walk the entire property. The house itself was expansive, with six fireplaces. It was built to last in the 1880s.
To celebrate their sharing the first down payment, they went out for an elegant meal in nearby Washington, D.C. There they dined at Cressida's, a fine restaurant with Greek cuisine.
In the middle of the finest Greek lobster she had ever eaten, a waiter placed a phone at the table and plugged it in, saying, “Dr. Coran, there is a phone call for you.” He placed the phone before Jessica.
“ I don't want to take this call,” she said.
“ We both knew it was coming; only surprise is that it didn't come sooner.”
“ How the devil does Eriq Santiva know I'm here?”
“ He's been good to us, Jess, and we've had a wonderful run.”
She sighed and took the phone from its hook. “Hello,” she barked.
“ Jess, it's John Thorpe.”
Jessica pictured Thorpe, her right hand at the lab, with whom she had shared years of confidences. He knew more about her than anyone at Quantico, so his tracking her down, even here, didn't surprise her. “I've been calling everywhere for you. It's urgent, otherwise-you know I'd never interrupt love, not for the world.”
Jessica imagined her best friend's tortured countenance. John Thorpe and she had worked for a decade side by side. They had seen some of the most bizarre criminal cases in recent history. “All right, John, what's got you all fired up?”
“ It's Judge Maureen DeCampe.”
“ Not that bitch.”
“ Listen, Jess, she's been abducted.”
“ Abducted?”
“ From the underground garage, when she was going to her car.”
“ At the g'damn courthouse?”
“ Right outta the garage!”
“ Wait a minute. Are you telling me that somebody abducted the judge from the courthouse parking lot?”
“ The judges' parking section doesn't have a firewall between it and the public section, Jess. And at night, it's a cave. Damn place was always a crime waiting to happen, so it's no surprise when you think about it.”
“ J. T., what are you saying?”
“ All the fried brain cases and psychos those judges in D.C. deal with on a daily basis? Are you kidding?”
“ Jeeze, an appellate court judge abducted.” She said it loud enough so that Richard and everyone in the place might hear. This kind of news would be headlines in an hour. “Any ransom demands, any notes?”
“ Nada, so far. Not a word.”
“ Where's Eriq Santiva?”
“ On another phone, searching for you.”
“ Why me, John? Why not half a dozen other capable forensic experts in the organization?”
“ Eriq's got marching papers to get his number one person, Jess, and you know who that is. He's covering his ass, though.”
“ Meaning?”
“ He's called Kim Desinor in as well. She's already walking the grid at the parking lot. If you want, just say so, and I'll tell them I couldn't find you. I know there isn't any love lost between you and DeCampe.”
“ She pissed a lot of people off-and not just the criminals. Remember the Van Lefler case? Remember the McGregor case? Manslaughter my ass.”
“ The media will have the story spread across the continent in an hour, Jess.”
“ Imagine if the media put as much effort into every Missing Persons case.”
“ She's an important cog in the judiciary system of a major American city, that's for sure. A year ago, she was profiled on a 20/20 episode called 'America's Most Ambitious Women.' Like it or not, Jess, it's going to be a high-profile case if ever there was.”
“ Don't I know it.” Jessica now looked across the table at Richard. She stared for a moment, saying nothing.
“ I quite understand, Jessica. It's your work; it's what you do. Go.” Richard lifted his glass of Merlot and toasted. 'To the only woman that the FBI cannot do without.”
Jessica laughed in response. Then she said into the phone, “Send a car for me, J. T.”
“ On its way.”
She hung up, reached across the table, and took Richard's hands in hers. “Are you going to be able to put up with my being gone for long periods of time, Richard?”
“ It'll only make me want you more.”
“ They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I wonder.”
“ I'll not be that far from you, dear. And don't forget, in a week, I start teaching that class on international cooperation among law enforcement agencies at Quantico myself. Of course, I will miss you… terribly, despite my
