ahead.”
I sense the disquiet in him, in the way he holds himself. “Okay. Tell me about it.”
“I can’t explain it. It’s a feeling. I want to do something about it, though.”
“What?”
“We’ll get to it. Let’s order.”
Kaiser signals a waiter, and he comes almost immediately. We order omelets and orange juice, and I ask for cafe au lait as well. It’s nice to be in a place where they’d look at you like an idiot if you asked for some fancy latte or exotic extras. Glancing to my left, I catch Wendy watching us over her shoulder.
“What will Baxter say about you talking to me alone?”
“I don’t think Wendy will tell him. She’ll give us the benefit of the doubt this time.”
“But he wouldn’t like it, would he?”
“He trusts me, to a point. He wouldn’t like what I’m going to say.”
“Which is?”
Kaiser puts his elbows on the counter and rotates his stool so that he faces me more directly. “Have you ever fired a handgun?”
“Yes.”
“An automatic or a revolver?”
“Both.”
“If I got you one, would you carry it?”
“What would Baxter think about that?”
“He wouldn’t like it. And the Office of Professional Responsibility would probably fire me.”
“So why are you suggesting it?”
“Because I think you’re in danger. If the UNSUB wants you, he could shoot Wendy before either of you knew he was there. Then it would just be you and him. If you’re armed, you might have a chance to react in time.”
“You mean kill him?”
“Could you do it?”
“If he shot Wendy in front of me? You’re damn straight.”
“What if he just knocked her out and tried to pull you into a car? Would you shoot him then?”
A wave of discomfort rolls through me, flashes of memory that I thrust back into the dark. “I’ll do what I have to do to save myself.”
Kaiser’s eyes never leave my face. “Have you ever shot anybody before?”
“I’ve been shot before. Let’s leave it at that.”
“I get the feeling your life has been exciting even by the standard of war correspondents.”
“It hasn’t been dull.”
“Has it taken a lot out of you?”
I look away and focus on Wendy’s straight back. The more I watch her, the more I like her. The path she chose is much more regimented than mine, but she brings to it the passion I brought to mine when I was younger. “Yes, it has.”
“That’s why you took time out to do this book you were doing?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time?”
“Yes.” I look back at Kaiser, into the hazel eyes that appear to hold genuine curiosity. “But once I really started, I wasn’t sure it was going to give me what I wanted out of it.”
“What was that?”
“I’m not sure.”
Our omelets and juice arrive, but neither of us lifts a fork.
“May I ask you a personal question?” he says.
“You can ask.”
“You’ve never been married?”
“That’s right. Does that shock you?”
“It surprises me. Not many heterosexual women who look like you make it to forty without getting married at least once.”
“Is that a nice way of asking what’s wrong with me?”
Kaiser laughs. “It’s a nice way of being nosy.”
“You’d think I’d be a prize catch, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I would.”
“A lot of guys think that. From a distance.”
“What’s wrong up close?”
“I’m not like most women.”
“How so?”
“Well, it goes like this. I meet a guy. Good-looking, successful, independent. Doctor, journalist, investment banker, A-list actor. Whatever. He can’t wait to go out with me. I’m a not-so-ugly woman in what a lot of people see as a glamour job. The first few dates, he shows me off to his friends. We like each other. We get intimate. Then, in a week or a month, I get a new assignment. Afghanistan. Brazil. Bosnia. Egypt. And not a fly-in-and-out Dan Rather junket. A month on the ground schlepping cameras. Maybe this particular guy is making international partner the next week and wants me at his celebration party. Maybe the Oscars are next week. But I take the assignment. I won’t even discuss turning it down. And by the time I get back, he’s decided maybe the relationship isn’t working out after all.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Because most guys have the one-up gene.”
“The what?”
“The one-up gene. They have to be in the superior position. They love the
“I make sixty-eight thousand dollars a year,” says Kaiser. “I know you make more than that.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw your tax return.”
“We had to rule you out as a suspect. That was part of it.”
“Great.”
“But I don’t think your job is any more important than mine.” He picks up a fork and takes a bite of his omelet. “Do you?”
“No.”
“And I know I’m not the highest priority in your life.”
“True.”
“And I’m perfectly okay with that.”
I watch him as he pours hot sauce on his omelet, but I can’t read anything in his eyes. “What are we talking about?”
“I think you know.”
“Well, at least we’re on the same page.”
He smiles, and this time his white teeth show and his eyes sparkle. “I didn’t really come here to say that, but I’m glad I did. I feel awkward because of your sister.”
“That has nothing to do with my sister. What happened to Jane only confirmed something I learned a long time ago. If you wait to do things you want to do or ought to do, you may be dead before you get the chance.”
“I learned that too. In Vietnam. But it’s easy to lose sight of it in the rush of everyday life. To get so caught up
