of the city, but it’sstill the city. And she lives alone now. The creaks and groans in the middle ofthe night take on a frighteningly new dimension, now that she doesn’t have aformer middle linebacker sleeping next to her. No, it’s not exactly the middleof the night. It’s only a little after eight in the evening-
She hears another noise-a key working the knob-and the dooropens. Jessica rushes in and closes the door behind her quickly. She turns andsees Allison. Jessica’s face is washed-out, her mascara streaked down hercheeks. She is trembling, on the verge of collapse.
Allison reaches her in an instant, takes her in her arms andeases her to the floor.
“What happened?” Allison asks, holding Jessica’s head,inventorying her body for injuries out of instinct. “God, sweetheart, whathappened?”
McCoy turns off her cell phone and plugs it into thecharger, attached to the cigarette lighter in the car. The team that reenteredSam Dillon’s home, after Jessica Pagone’s unexpected visit, has just reportedback.
“Well, at least she didn’t mess with anything,” McCoy says.
“But she didn’t leave it clean, either,” Harrick says. He isreferring to the single platinum earring on the carpet near Sam’s body.
“She probably bent over the body.” McCoy shrugs. “Earringsfall off.”
“We should retrieve it, Jane.”
McCoy shakes her head. “I’m not going to have them tamperwith a crime scene.”
“It wouldn’t be tampering, Jane. The crime scene didn’tinclude an earring. And we know she didn’t kill him. She came in afterward.Hell, we have Larry Evans on video.”
McCoy looks at Harrick.
“I’m saying, this could put this girl in the soup,” he saysforcefully.
McCoy chews on her lip.
“That’s a bad thing, by the way,” Harrick adds.
“Maybe so, maybe not.”
“Janey, listen to me. This has been a crazy night. I knowthat. Lot of things happening we didn’t expect, a lot of on-the-spot decisions.But we can’t let this girl get in trouble.”
“Oh, we won’t,” she says absently.
“Then tell them to get back in there and remove the damnearring.”
McCoy shakes her head slowly.
“Jane-”
“Jessica Pagone is Allison Pagone’s daughter,” she says.“And Allison Pagone may be a part of this now, like it or not.”
“What are you thinking here, Agent?”
“Just thinking,” she says. “Thinking that Larry Evans musthave been pretty worried about Sam Dillon, right? Enough to kill him. He’s gotto be worried about Allison, too. He’s already monitoring her, right? So he’sworried about her, too.”
“The point being,” Harrick takes it, “that we might need herhelp.”
“Yeah,” McCoy mumbles, thinking it through.
Her cell phone rings. McCoy almost jumps out of her seat.
“McCoy. Okay? Okay.” She looks at her partner. “Don’t doanything. Just make sure that house is safe. Whatever it takes.”
She punches off, raises her eyebrows. “Jessica just arrivedat her mother’s house.”
“Allison’s house.” Harrick moans. “Okay. Jesus Christ,okay.”
McCoy falls back in her seat.
“She’s telling her mom that she just found Sam Dillon dead,”Harrick envisions. “She’s hysterical. Scared. Freaked out.”
“All of those,” McCoy agrees. “And Allison is worried.”
“Worried?” Harrick seems doubtful. “Grief-stricken, maybe.”
“No,” McCoy says. “Worried.”
Harrick touches Jane’s arm. “You think she’s wonderingwhether her daughter killed Dillon?”
McCoy’s shoulders rise. “She can’t be sure she didn’t killhim.”
“Jane, no,” Harrick says. “You can’t blackmail her.”
“I’m not talking about blackmail, Agent.” McCoy grinds herteeth, a nervous habit when she’s thinking fast. “Allison Pagone is going tothink what she thinks. Not putting her mind at ease is not the same thing aslying.”
“She helps us out,” Harrick says, perhaps warming to thedeal, not that McCoy really cares, “and we make sure Jessica isn’t implicated.And she’s never the wiser about whether her daughter is a killer.”
“Something like that,” McCoy says. “Right about now, motherand daughter are probably discovering that Jessica left some evidence behind.”She looks at Harrick. “Let’s see what happens.”
“Jane,” Harrick says. “You’d really do that to this lady?Make her think her own daughter is a murderer?”
“She’ll think it,” McCoy says. “I won’t say that to her.”
“Jeez.”
“Oh, lighten the hell up, Owen. You’re in the big leaguesnow. I think what we’re doing is worth it, don’t you?” She waves at him. “Whenthis is over, and everyone is safe and sound, I’ll tell her the truth, okay?I’ll give her a copy of the videotape of Larry Evans breaking into Dillon’shouse. But for now, we use whatever we have.”
Harrick stares at McCoy.
“When this thing is all over,” she repeats, annoyed, “I willmake it very clear to Allison that her daughter did not kill Sam Dillon. Butuntil then, we use what we have. Relax. You want to stop an internationalterrorist operation or not?”
Allison sits next to her daughter, who is finally beginningto calm. Allison has put a blanket over Jessica’s shoulders and given her somehot tea. They are sitting on the couch in the living room.
Jessica has been home for half an hour now. It took her thebetter part of ten minutes to even tell Allison what had happened. The nexttwenty minutes were spent with Allison confirming, absolutely, that she heardher daughter correctly.
Sam is dead.
“I just wanted to talk to him,” she says. “I wanted to knowwhy I was fired.”
Sam is dead. She can’t believe she is hearing the words. Shecan’t believe it’s true. Her first instinct is to rush out of her home and gothere, or at least to call his house. That is her first reaction, her second,her third, but still she has not made a move. She is more concerned aboutsomeone else at the moment.
“Does anyone else at Dillon and Becker know he fired you?”Allison asks.
Jessica shakes her head. “No. I didn’t talk to anyone. I waslike a zombie. I just left. I didn’t even pack my things.”
“Good,” Allison says. “Good.”
Jessica’s head whips around at Allison. “You think I mightbe blamed for this? Someone would think that I — ”
“No, honey, of course not,” Allison says quickly. “No onewould think that.”
“I was there,” she says ominously.
“Yes, you were. Did anyone see you? Jess? Do you know ifanyone saw you there tonight?”
“I don’t-I don’t know, Mother. How could I know that?”
Allison takes her daughter’s hand, gets on her knees so sheis face to face with Jessica.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” she says.
“I didn’t-you think I killed him.” Jessica pulls away fromher mother, gets to her feet. “You think I killed Sam?”
“No, I don’t.” Allison follows, rising and moving to herdaughter, who is backing away. “Of course I don’t. I’m
