under the living room window, flattened himself against the wall, and turned the knob to the front door. It was unlocked.
He quietly pushed the door open, listened, and caught the sound of movement in the bedroom. He eased his way inside, weapon in the ready position, let his eyes adjust to the darkness, and did a visual sweep of the living room. Clear. He took a quick glance into the galley kitchen.
Clear.
He backed into the kitchen, where he had a direct line of sight down the hallway leading to the closed bedroom door. He heard a hinge squeak on the bedroom closet door, followed by a thud as something hit the carpeted floor.
The door opened and light washed down the hallway. Kerney said, 'Freeze.
Don't move, or I'll blow you away.'
Sara stood backlit in the doorway.
'For God's sake, it's me, Kerney.' She hit the hall light switch in time to see Kerney holstering his handgun.
'What are you doing here?'
'It's nice to see you too,' Sara snapped.
'Didn't you get my message? I asked you not to come this weekend.'
'That's exactly why I'm here. What is going on with you?'
'I'm sorry.' Kerney walked to Sara and took her hands.
'I am glad you're here.'
She pulled away and gave Kerney a blistering look.
'I don't believe you. Answer my question. Except for a short conversation and some confusing phone messages, I haven't heard from you all week.'
'I've been busy, that's all.'
'You've never been too busy not to call before. Are we going down the tubes, Kerney? Does the prospect of fatherhood have you scared?'
Kerney shook his head.
'That's not it at all.'
'Then talk to me.'
'Let's go out, get something to eat, and talk over dinner.'
'I'm not hungry. Talk to me now, Kerney. What's going on with you?'
'Sara, its work. Just the job. It's not you, there isn't anything strange going on in my head, and it's not us. Believe me.'
'I don't need reassurances, I need conversation. Something's wrong and I want to know what it is.'
Kerney put a finger to his lips and pulled Sara into the bedroom. He showed her the telephone tap and the bug in the floor vent.
'Can we talk about it over dinner?' he asked again.
'I haven't eaten all day.'
Sara's distressed expression lightened. Her green eyes scanned Kerney's face.
'If we must,' she said.
'But you'd better really talk to me, Kerney, otherwise I'm getting a hotel room for the night.'
They ordered a light meal at a restaurant favored by locals. Gray headed couples danced to bland renditions of soft-rock tunes played by a trio of old men wedged together on a small platform near the entrance. Muted televisions above the long bar entertained a row of blue-collar workers drinking their way deep into a Friday night. Area politicos sat at the back of the tiny dance floor, talking loudly, and waving to any constituents they knew by sight. Civil servants and their families out for a Friday-night dinner filled circular dining tables adjacent to the bar and ordered up the specials of the day.
Sara listened as Kerney described the chain of events starting with the Terrell murder. He gave her the facts and his carefully thought-out suppositions about the case, and listed the reasons why he believed that military intelligence was heavily involved.
Sara's head swam. She knew Kerney to be an exceptional investigator and not one to exaggerate. But she didn't like what she was hearing.
Everything she knew about the regulations that governed army intelligence activities argued against his hypothesis.
On the one hand, she knew nothing about SWAMI or a secret training base in Colombia. On the other hand, she'd heard about Carnivore through her own contacts and a few brief news stories, and she knew about the controversy surrounding the School of the Americas. She also knew about how army intelligence kept an eye on its own, especially soldiers and civilians in sensitive, highly classified positions.
She bit back a desire to challenge Kerney's suppositions and let him finish up.
He looked at her expectantly, waiting for a response.
'Interesting,' Sara said.
'That's it?'
'For now.'
'You're usually not so noncommittal.'
Sara toyed with her academy class ring.
'I have to think, Kerney. You've thrown a lot at me in a very short time.'
'Do you think I'm overreacting?'
'I don't know.'
'I've caught you off-guard.'
Sara replied with a weak smile. After a hellish week at the Command and General Staff College, made worse by draining bouts of morning sickness, she'd come to Santa Fe concerned and worried about Kerney.
Now that she knew more, it meant the timing was wrong to talk to him about the strong maternal feelings that were shifting her focus away from the army and making her yearn for a real home life.
They had yet to resolve the issue of whether or not Kerney would join her at her next permanent duty station or remain in New Mexico. She doubted he'd willingly transform himself into a full-time military dependent. So in theory, she'd be married and a mother. But in practice she'd be raising a child as a single parent, with occasional visits from a distant, part-time husband. The prospect held little appeal.
Her next assignment after school would most likely be a fast track staff position at the command level that would require twelve hour days and seven-day weeks.
She'd known women officers who'd left husbands and children behind for three-year assignments. And women who, for the sake of their children, had branch-transferred to jobs that cut short their advancement and froze them at their current rank until retirement.
Women like Sara, who'd been promoted ahead of schedule only to resign from active duty because their family life was suffering.
She reached out and took Kerney's hand.
'Let me think about it some more.'
They drove home in silence. Kerney was tense, on guard, his eyes searching the rearview mirror. She believed he was being watched, followed, and spied on, that he'd been threatened with consequences if he didn't back off on the investigation. Over dinner he'd sidestepped her question about the risks he was taking with assurances that everything was under control. That, she didn't believe.
She decided she needed do more than just think about what Kerney had told her.
'I want to review your case material,' she said.
'You're not part of this. It's not your problem.'
'I'm not asking for permission, Kerney.'
Kerney shot her a sidelong glance. A stern expression greeted him.
'Fine. You can look at it when we get home.'
'I'm not staying with you tonight.'
Kerney slowed the truck and gave Sara a long look.
'Why not?'
