If the Walls Had Ears

by Fiona Robinson

LIstening devices and an Agency conspiracy put Lee and Amanda at odds with each other.

"If the Walls Had Ears..." by Fiona Robinson

The characters in this story are copyrighted by Shoot the Moon Productions, Ltd. and Warner Brothers Studios. I'm really just borrowing them, just for a little while.

"Amanda?"

Lee Stetson heard her voice, muffled, from under the counter. "Umm...yes?"

"Why is there a fichus in the bathtub?"

Lee heard a long pause, and a crash, and Amanda King muttered something she was sure she'd picked up from being around him, since five years ago she was pretty sure she'd never have sworn at a bottle of Lysol. "Fichus? It needed a shower."

Lee chuckled to himself, shaking his head. It needed a shower. "Can I take it out? I need to be watered every once in a while, too." From the kitchen doorway, he watched her wiggle out of the cupboard, her fingers dripping with yellow cleaner.

"Yeah, of course. Just put it down on...." She searched for a large green garbage bag. "....One of these. I just washed the floor in there."

"What's that stuff on your fingers?"

"Lysol. I spilled the bottle." Not that it had made much difference. She didn't think the cupboard under his sink had ever seen a scrubbing.

'You know, you don't have to do that."

"I know. I don't mind."

"No, I'm serious. I'm a big boy. I can clean my own cupboards. And wash my own bathroom floor."

"I know you can, but you've been on the go all week and I thought you'd like to take it easy for a change." She shook the garbage bag in her hand, and he reached forward to take it. As he did, Lee grabbed her hand, too, and pulled her across the linoleum on her knees.

"That's sweet. But I was kind of hoping you'd want to take it easy with me. Or if not easy, then at least a shower."

She laughed and kissed the tip of his nose. "You're terrible."

"You love it."

"Point taken." Amanda felt his arms creep around her, and she let out a squeal as they tipped over. "Watch out! I'm covered in cleaner."

He took a deep whiff of her neck. "Mm. Lemony fresh..."

"It'll stain if it gets on you..." She tried to hold her dripping arm away from his blue shirt, one week old and still crisp.

"That's okay. I have a large clothing allowance. You know, for bullet holes and stuff...."

"I think you have to be on duty for that to apply," she admonished, but her voice was low and quiet, and she was laughing.

"Well, I am with my partner. I'm sure we could fabricate some kind of story

that'd get me a new shirt." His mouth hovered over hers, and Lee could feel her giving in, though she was still holding her cleaner-drenched arm off to one side.

The shrill ring of the telephone jolted them both back to reality, but neither of them stopped what they were doing. Lee shook his head. "Let it ring," he said as Amanda shifted underneath him. She nodded. She couldn't answer it anyway, she wasn't even supposed to be there.

She shifted again, as the phone kept ringing. "Lee..." she murmured, dragging herself away from him. "Lee, I've got to move...."

"Let it ring...."

"I know, but I'm getting a terrible cramp...Ow!" She sat up suddenly, flexing her arm and rubbing one shoulder.

Lee sat up, too, suddenly realizing that his knees were killing him. "When did the kitchen floor get so hard?" he muttered, and Amanda laughed.

"It gets harder every year. Along with our arteries."

Lee grinned, wryly. "Oh, thanks for reminding me."

She kissed him lightly, by way of apology. "Go get your shower, old man. I'll be there in a minute." His look of surprise made her laugh. "Well, you don't think I could think about cleaning now, do you?" As he got up, she turned her attention back to the cupboard, picking up her sponge.

Amanda was just about to begin mopping again when something small and silvery, attached to one of the pipes, caught her eye. She touched it, lightly, recognizing it for what it was: a listening device. She sat for a moment, hearing the shower start up in the other room, before she wiped off her hands and headed for the bathroom.

Lee poked his head out from behind the curtain, grinning at her. She didn't move.

"Well, are you coming?" he prompted.

Amanda shook her head. "I need to show you something."

"What?"

"You've...uh...sprung a leak." It suddenly occurred to her that there were probably other bugs, in other places. After all, who would bother to bug under the sink and nowhere else? Then again, who would bother to bug the bathroom?

"Well, it can wait. I'll call a plumber later." He held out a sudsy hand to her. "Come on."

"It's not that kind of leak. I mean, the kind that would need a plumber. You have to come look at it." With that, she turned away and returned to the kitchen, hearing him slide back the shower curtain and shut off the shower.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he groused, wrapping a robe around himself as he came into the kitchen. She kneeled in front of the cupboard and pointed, watching his face darken. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

Lee's hand hovered over the little cylinder, tempted to rip it from the pipes, before he thought better of it and sat back on his heels. Amanda shut the cupboard door and stood up with him.

"Let's go for a drive," he suggested. Amanda nodded and went to get her coat.

"What did Billy say?" Amanda wanted to know, the second Lee came out of the phone booth. "Was he there?"

Lee nodded. "He's going to meet us there with a team in an hour." Lee sighed, noticing the frown that creased her forehead. He put an arm around her. "You know, this happens in the business all the time...."

Amanda nodded. "I know. But it gives me the creeps." She let out a long breath. "I guess we're just getting a taste of our own medicine, for once."

Lee chuckled. "Yeah. I suppose we are."

"It's just that we were right there, and we were about to...." Her cheeks went pink and she bit on her lip. "I'd like to know who was listening, is all. And how much they've heard."

"I know what you mean." Lee looked at his watch. "Come on, we've got just enough time to grab a bite to eat before we meet Billy."

Billy Melrose was waiting for them, sitting on the couch in Lee's apartment. Around him, three men were emptying drawers, moving furniture, and inspecting closets. Billy himself had taken Lee's telephone apart, and was trying--with some difficulty--to put it back together again. Another bug sat on the coffee table, amidst screwdrivers and tweezers.

"Scarecrow," he greeted when he saw them come through the doorway, he reserved a smile for Amanda. "Amanda."

She smiled back and nodded, but Lee looked around his apartment with concern. "What the hell's going on here, Billy?...Hey, be careful with that!" he called out to one of the agency men, who was turning a clock upside-down. "That was expensive."

"We've found four other devices so far," Billy explained, ignoring the dirty look Lee was shooting his operatives. "And they're powerful. Extremely high-tech. Our equipment missed them completely."

"Any idea who could've planted them?" Lee asked, pacing.

Billy shook his head. "We were hoping you'd have a clue. We're taking them back to the Agency. Maybe our surveillance experts can give us an idea."

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest and wandered around the living room. "So should he pack a bag?" she wondered. Billy and Lee looked at her, then Lee looked at Billy.

"That might be a good idea. Just for tonight, until we clean this place up. You up for a little vacation, Scarecrow?"

"Doesn't look like I have a choice, does it?" Lee muttered, heading for the bedroom. He found another agent in his closet, digging around in the back. "Hey, what are you doing?"

The agent poked his head out from between two blazers and Lee recognized him immediately as Chuck Havers, an agent he'd worked with on a few occasions. "Hey, Stetson. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Find anything?"

"Not much." Havers drew out his arm, holding a padded hanger with one of Amanda's nightgowns on it. "Since when do you wear satin and spaghetti straps?"

"None of your business."

"Mm. Potpourri," Havers teased, sniffing the sachet tied to the hanger hook. "My guess is English rose."

"Give me that," Lee snapped, snatching the hanger out of Havers hands.

Havers just laughed, watching Lee stuff the nightgown back into the closet. "My, my, Lee. Aren't you sensitive?"

Lee simply rolled his eyes. "Did you find anything in here, or not?"

"One device, attached to the back of your headboard. These guys are obviously of the opinion that you do a lot of strategic planning in your bedroom." Havers laughed. "They're apparently well-acquainted with the Scarecrow we all know and love." At that moment, Havers spied Amanda, leaning in the doorway and watching the exchange with a mild curiosity. "Well, who's this?"

"Amanda King, Chuck Havers. Amanda's my partner."

"Hello." She smiled and nodded, but didn't move from the doorway.

"Partner, huh?" Havers considered her for a moment. "You wouldn't be missing a satin nightgown, would you, Amanda?"

Amanda let out a false little laugh. "Not me. I'm strictly a flannel girl."

Havers chuckled, nodding. "I'll bet you are."

Lee felt a streak of irritation flow through him at Havers comments. He looked over at Amanda, knowing she was probably feeling the same thing. "Do you think you're done in here?" he asked Chuck coolly. "I've got some packing to do."

"Oh? Staying at your partner's?"

"No. Lee's staying in a hotel," Amanda put in. "Billy got you a room."

Chuck nodded, clapping Lee on the back. "Good old Billy. What would we do without him?"

As Havers left, Amanda moved to stand beside Lee. "I don't like him," she said under her breath.

Lee looked at her, surprised.

"I just don't think he's trustworthy, is all."

"You've been hanging around me too much."

Amanda just rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"Mother?" Amanda called as she opened the back door to her house. "Are you here?" Lee followed closely behind, a duffel bag in one hand.

"Amanda?" They both heard Dotty West's voice float down from the second floor. "I'm just making the bed. Be down in a minute."

Lee plopped his bag down near the sofa and sat down at the breakfast nook. Amanda stood in the kitchen, looking around as she'd never been there before.

"What's the matter?" Lee asked.

She shrugged. "Just wondering if there were any in here."

"I doubt they'd bother. Too many people around here who clean behind furniture and stuff," Lee joked, chuckling a little. Amanda didn't look amused. "Look, Billy thought your place would be clean. Why don't we wait and see what he says before we get them in here, turning the place upside-down?"

Amanda drew a deep breath, nodding. "You're right. Want a glass of milk?"

Lee had just taken a sip when Dotty came down the stairs. "Hello, darling!...And Lee. How nice to see you."

"Hi, Dotty." Amanda smiled as Lee flashed her mother his most charming smile. "You look lovely as ever."

"Oh...really...." Dotty waved a hand at him in dismissal and turned to her daughter. "Do you smell lemons?"

"I, uh...." Amanda sniffed her hands. "It's me." She cleared her throat. "I was helping Lee clean....Listen, Mother, Lee's apartment's in a bit of a...disarray...so he's going to stay here tonight, all right?"

"Oh, yes. Of course." Dotty smiled knowingly at Lee. "What's the matter?"

"The matter? Uh...I..." Lee searched for a plausible story. "I sprung a leak. A big one. The plumbers are fixing it now. Have to redo the pipes, I guess."

"Oh, that's terrible! There wasn't water damage, was there? Mrs. Hammond down the street sprung a leak and it ruined all her Harlequin romances, all three hundred of them. She was devastated."

Lee's smile widened. "No, there's no water damage, Dotty. I was lucky."

"Well, you just make yourself at home, dear, and stay as long as you like. Redoing the pipes is no small job."

"You have no idea," Amanda said under her breath as her mother turned to put the kettle on the stove, then wandered out to the garden to have a look at her geraniums.

"My mother should be dating you," Amanda said, watching Dotty in the backyard. "I can't believe the way you've got her wrapped around your little finger."

The telephone rang, and Amanda leaned over to pick it up. "Hello?...." She held the phone out to Lee. "It's for you. Billy."

"Billy?" Lee said into the phone. "What's the word?"

"You've gotta get down here right away, Scarecrow. It looks like some kind of a bizarre inside job."

"That's what I don't get, Billy. Why would someone from the Agency bother to bug my apartment? It's not like anything I do concerning the Agency is a secret--certainly not to someone who has the kind of clearance to access equipment like that." Lee gestured to the listening devices, sitting in plastic bags on Billy's desk.

Billy Melrose rubbed his eyes. "I don't know, Scarecrow. It doesn't make sense to me, either. But you know, there've been a lot of weird things going on around here, with the FBI and other organizations. Conspiracy theories. Other theories. You know how it goes. It's not as simple as it used to be."

"Hell, Billy, I know that. You don't need to tell me or Amanda that--we experienced it first-hand. Remember?"

"Hm." Billy nodded. "Stemwinder. Yeah, I remember, Scarecrow. I'm not likely to forget that, either."

"I don't want her to have to go underground again."

"She won't."

"Can you guarantee that?"

"Lee. She won't." Billy sighed. "We'll do everything in our power to make sure she and her family are safe."

The two looked up as Francine Desmond came through the door, holding a manila folder in one hand. "Any news?" she asked.

"We were about to ask you the same thing," Lee said, leaning back in his chair.

Francine sat down and patted the folder in her lap. "Not much. Chuck Havers said he didn't think those devices were even approved for use. They were still in the experimental stage. Paula Hanson was working on them. We're waiting to hear from her, but she's in the field today."

"So it has to be an inside job. But what were they looking for?" Lee wondered.

Francine shook her head. "Chuck gave me a list of names, of all the people who might have access to the devices. Maybe you can look through it and see if anything jumps out at you." She handed the sheet to Lee, and a copy to Billy. Then she smiled, slowly. "He also said to give his love to Amanda," she added, watching Lee's reaction.

Lee drew his brows together. "Huh," he grunted. "Havers."

"Oh, he's just teasing," she chided.

"He's a pain in the ass."

"He's trying to be, Lee."

"Yeah, well...." Lee stood, shoving his copy of the list into his jacket pocket. "I'm getting out of here. I'll be at Amanda's if you need me."

They nodded at Lee and he left Billy's office, walking through the bullpen and to the elevator without really thinking about what was going on around him. He would have strolled right past Mrs. Marston if she hadn't cleared her throat to get his attention.

"Have a good day, Lee," she said as he walked out the front door. He waved at her and nodded, his mind still on the list and the events of that morning. As he approached his car, he looked up and across the street. It was then that he saw the man with the gun in his hand. Lee barely had time to duck behind his Corvette before three bullets flew--he heard them hit his expensive, silver car with a sickening whack--one, two, three. The sound of squealing tires gave him enough confidence to peek over the hood of the car, and he caught sight of his assailant jumping into a blue sedan and heading off down the street at breakneck speed.

Lee cautiously stood up, sitll holding his car keys in one hand, and moved around to the driver's side of the car. "Oh," he muttered, looking at the damage to his window and door. "I'm having a great day, Mrs. Marston. Thanks."

He put his keys back in his pocket and headed back to Billy's office.

Amanda sat on her living room sofa, reading over the list while Jamie watched a documentary about the Tower of London. Behind her, Lee and Dotty were making dinner together, laughing and chopping vegetables.

"Do you need any help in there?" she called, for what must have been the third or fourth time.

"No, dear, we've got it all under control," Dotty replied, laughing at a story Lee was telling. Amanda shook her head, wondering how Lee could joke around when someone had tried to blow a hole in him in broad daylight, just three hours ago. And not just someone--someone they worked with.

She looked at the list again. Specifically, she kept looking at Chuck's name. Amanda knew she'd only met him once, and her suspicions were completely unfounded--after all, Chuck Havers was helping with the investigation, why would he put his name on the list of suspects?--but she couldn't get rid of the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Oh, wow, Mom...Look!" Jamie's voice jerked her out of her thoughts. "The rack. Isn't that wild?"

"That's horrible, Jamie. Do you really think it's approrpriate to be watching torture while your grandmother's making dinner?"

"It's history. You're always bugging me to watch more documentaries and not rot my mind." Jamie nudged her with his foot.

"Well thank goodness for cable," Amanda sighed, grabbing his toes. At eleven, with a mouth full of metal, he was much quieter than his brother.

As if reading her mind, Dotty asked from the kitchen, "Where's Philip?"

Amanda's eyes went back to the list. "Over at Dave's."

"Dave? Who's Dave?"

"Last week, you knew him as Davy. He's trying to change his image."

"Change his image? He's thirteen!"

"Ours is not to reason why, Mother," Amanda cautioned, her eyes on the paper.She suddenly folded it up and stuffed it back in Lee's jacket pocket. How many times could she look at a list of names?

After dinner, when Jamie had run off to a friend's and her mother was getting ready for a date, she sat with Lee and looked over the list again. He finally shook his head and pushed the paper away. "It's making me think I'm looking at things I shouldn't be," he said. "You know, like it's leading me in the wrong direction."

"You mean you might be discounting something because this is keeping you from thinking of it?" Amanda asked, touching the creased paper lightly. Lee nodded, and she tilted her head in understanding.

"There has to be an answer somewhere," Lee muttered, pacing the room. "I'vebeen racking my brain, trying to think of cases I'm working on...and I can't. I can't think of anything."

"Maybe it's nothing you're working on now," Amanda said, slowly. "Maybe it's something we cleared up recently, or that you worked on years ago. There's no time limit on carrying out a vendetta."

"Who's got a vendetta?" Dotty asked, breezing into the room.

"Oh..." Amanda laughed. "No one, Mother. You all ready for your big date?"

"Amanda." Dotty shot her a reproving look. "It's not a big date. It's no bigger than any of the other dates I've been on with this man. It's simply going to be...more expensive, is all." She picked up her coat from the back of the chair, and Lee promptly took it out of her hands and held it while she slipped her arms into the sleeves. "Thank you, Lee, dear." Dotty straightened her collar. "I hope the opera is good. The last time I went there was a terrible understudy in the lead role."

"I didn't know you liked opera," Lee commented.

Dotty rolled her eyes. "I don't." The doorbell rang and she turned to kiss Amanda's cheek. "All right, darling, I'm off. Don't wait..." She laughed and looked at Lee. "Up."

"Maybe you're right," Lee said late that night. "Maybe it is someone I worked with years ago."

They were curled up together in Amanda's bed, drowsy and satisfied, but both unable to sleep. Two candles burned on her bedside table, and Lee looked at her in the soft light, listening to the sleeping house and smelling lavender.

"It's a possibility," she agreed, suddenly pausing as someone passed the bedroom door. "Jamie," she whispered, as the bathroom door closed at the end of the hall.

"What were you going to do if you'd heard him heading for the stairs?" Lee asked. "You couldn't head him off at the pass then, could you?" He was grinning in the darkness, and she elbowed him in the ribs, lightly.

Amanda laughed, softly, shaking her head. "Anyway...we have to think beyond the list, you know? We have to think about...other options."

"Mm." He nodded.

"And you have to be careful."

"Amanda. I'm always careful, you know that."

She shook her head. "No. Sometimes you're not, and that scares me. Sometimes you take chances you shouldn't, and I don't like it at all."

"You take chances, too. You know you do. You've taken insane chances for three years...Do the words "Amanda, stay in the car" mean anything to you?"

She just shook her head, shifting onto her back and crossing her arms over her chest. "Regardless." She was irritated with him--that much was clear. Lee sat up on one elbow and looked down at her.

"Amanda, it's part of my job. You know that."

"Not all of it. It isn't all part of your job."

Lee didn't know what to say to her, suddenly. They'd never had a conversation like this before. "What's bugging you?"

She raised one eyebrow and turned away from him, onto her side. "We need to get some sleep," she said, blowing out the candles.

"Amanda--"

"Goodnight."

"No." He flicked on the bedside lamp, angry. "Not "goodnight." Explain this to me...." She rolled over and hissed "sh" at him. He realized a moment too late that he'd raised his voice. "You know what the deal is, Amanda. You've always known what the deal is. Why is it different now?"

"Do you realize how little of our lives is private?" she hissed back, suddenly sitting up in bed and reaching for the bathrobe draped across the bottom of the bed. "Were you listening to where they found those devices in your apartment? Did you hear what Chuck Havers said?" As she talked, she shoved her arms into the robe's sleeves, stood and tied the belt.

Lee sat, confused. "He said there were four or five of them, all over the place."

"He said they found one in the bedroom, Lee. And we all know how Scarecrow likes to conduct his business deals, don't we?" She stopped for a moment, biting her lip and collecting her thoughts. "Why are we keeping anything a secret?" she wanted to know. "Why are we pretending we're just partners and we never do...this..." she gestured to the bed "...if it's all on tape in someone's office anyway?"

"Because it's safer that way."

"It's safer that way. How is it safer? They've probably heard everything. They probably know everything about us...."

"Does that embarrass you?" He could see that it did, and even though the thought of it made him a little uncomfortable, he could get past it. For some reason he didn't understand why she couldn't.

Amanda shook her head, then shrugged, and turned away from him.

"I can't believe you're embarrassed," he said, leaning back against the headboard. "That's really the limit."

Amanda turned back to look at him, opened her mouth, closed it, then picked up her pillow. "I'm going downstairs," she said, and opened the bedroom door. "And it's got nothing to do with embarrassment. Trust me."

The sound of Dotty putting a cup on the coffee table woke Amanda the next morning. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and sat up, stretching out the crick in her neck.

Dotty smiled from her seat on the coffee table, then moved to the couch as Amanda shifted.

"I made you some coffee, honey. Did you sleep okay?"

"Mm. Fine. How was the opera?"

"Lovely. Just lovely."

"What time did you get in, anyway? I didn't hear you."

"Drink your coffee, dear. It's getting cold."

Amanda looked at her mother more closely. "You're still dressed," she said. "Did you stay out all night?"

Dotty nodded, laughing. "We went for a drink afterwards, and then of course we had to go dancing...and then suddenly it was six in the morning and we went for breakfast."

Amanda laughed. "So what you're saying is, you had a good time."

"I had a wonderful time. Really wonderful."

Both women turned as the back door opened and Lee entered the house, carrying a paper bag. Amanda went silent, waiting to see what he'd say, but he smiled at the two of them as he came in. "Good morning, ladies. Hungry?"

"I've just eaten," Dotty told him. "A Grand Slam. And now, I"m going to make like a teenager and go to bed in the a.m."

"You?" he asked Amanda as Dotty left the room. She looked at him over the back of the couch and nodded. "I brought strudel," he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

"Mm. My favorite. Thanks, " she said, taking the bag from him.

"Well, I figured I had a little making up to do." She opened her mouth to speak, and he shook his head. "I should have understood what you meant last night, and I didn't. It's just that I'm used to the idea of people observing me. I thought you were, too."

She shook her head. "No."

"I'm sorry. You've just got to realize that I've been doing this for so long...watching other people so long...and it doesn't seem out of place for them to watch me. I never really believed that any part of my life was completely private."

Amanda didn't know what to say to that. "How do you get past that?" she wanted to know. "How do you have a life?"

"You just stop thinking about other people. You do your job, and you go home at night and sit with your beautiful partner and her two great kids--"

"While someone listens to them tell you about their day? While someone overhears me helping Jamie with his spelling homework? There's no decency there, Lee. Nothing's sacred, not even--" she hesitated. "Not even spelling."

"Hey," he said. "This isn't a new concept for you. You knew about all of this before. What's so different about it now?"

She shook her head, biting on her lip. "You weren't...We weren't together before. It wasn't all so close."

Lee was suddenly, terribly hurt. "Do you regret it?"

"What?"

"Being with me. Was it okay to just be partners before, or friends who worked together, but not this? Is this what the problem is?"

"No, of course not."

"Then what is it? Because if I recall, Amanda, you didn't have any difficulty making the decision to work for the Agency. You were right in there, waiting for a piece of the action. You had no trouble with that." His voice was low, and raw, and it washed over her in one cold wave. "You knew all about the risks, and you wanted to do it anyway. The only thing that's different this time is you and me."

"Lee, I--"

"Forget it, okay? I'm going to fix this thing. I'm going to get to the bottom of it. I don't want your help. Stay here with your kids, okay? Spend some time." Lee stepped back from her, reaching for his car keys. Amanda looked at him over the back of the couch, still holding the brown paper bag of pastry. "Eat your strudel. I'll talk to you later."

Only he didn't. Amanda didn't hear a word from him at all the rest of that day. When Billy called at three p.m., wanting to know where Scarecrow was, the knot that had embedded itself in her stomach threatened to choke her, before the bottom fell out of everything. She stood in the middle of her kitchen, gripping the phone to her ear, silently.

"Amanda, are you there?"

"Oh...um, yes, sir. Sorry. You mean he's not there?"

"Haven't seen him all day. When did you see him last?"

"This morning. I'm coming down there," she said, with uncharacteristic abruptness, and hung up the phone. Scribbling a note for her sleeping mother, Amanda picked up her coat and purse and headed for her car.

"You're insane, Havers," Francine said, leaning against Billy's desk. "I can't believe you'd even think something like that."

"Why? Why is it so far-fetched? Scarecrow could be blind-siding us with this thing--we don't know any better than that. Do we?" Chuck Havers demanded from his seat. "I mean good God, there've been moles before, you know. And pretty successful

ones, too. Why can't Scarecrow be one of them?"

As he was speaking, the door to Billy's office opened and Amanda stepped through. She'd caught the last part of Havers' statement, and her face showed plainly her anger and disgust. Havers looked over at her, noted the reaction, and shrugged.

"Come to think of it, why couldn't she be one?"

"Don't you even think it," Amanda said coldly. "You, of all people."

"What do you mean by that, Amanda?" Francine wanted to know. From behind his desk, Billy looked at her, quizzically.

"I mean your record isn't perfect, Mr. Havers, so you shouldn't go pointing fingers at anyone." She stood in front of him, shaking. "Least of all, Lee." She turned to Billy. "Did you know that Lee covered for him, years ago? Put everything on the line for him, because he couldn't handle an investigation alone?'

"Yes, Amanda, I knew that," Billy said, quietly.

"Then how can you sit there and listen to this?"

"Loyalty is hardly the hallmark of the business, Amanda," Francine pointed out.

"Lee's loyal, and you know that. You all know that." Francine looked away. "Don't you?" Amanda pressed, her voice hard, and Francine nodded.

"Amanda," Chuck said, then, when she looked stonily at him, "Mrs. King. I know Lee's your partner and everything, but really, how well can we ever know anyone?"

"I know Lee," she said. "And I know he'd never, ever do anything to jeopardize the Agency." She looked at Billy. "You know it, too." Billy nodded. Amanada ducked her head, crossed her arms over her chest, and turned to look out at the bullpen.

"Chuck, Francine," Billy said after a moment. "Could you excuse me and Amanda for a moment, please?" The other two nodded, got up, and left the office. Billy waited a moment before speaking, and when he did, his voice was gentle and quiet. "Amanda. Sit down."

She turned away from the window and nodded, sitting in Chuck Havers' chair.

"I don't believe anything Havers has said is true," Billy told her. "If only for the simple reason that Lee made me personally promise that you'd stay safe through all of this."

"I am safe," Amanda said, not understanding.

Billy hesitated. "We found the tapes," he said.

"Oh." She looked away from him, her cheeks coloring. "So you know, then."

Billy chuckled, suddenly. "About you and Lee? Amanda, I knew the moment he laid eyes on you that Lee Stetson was completely sunk. There was never a mystery there."

She smiled a little, shrugging. "Did...did you listen to the tapes?"

"Only the first five minutes. I want you to listen to them for me."

"What?"

"I want you to listen to them. I don't know if we've got all of them, and I don't know what the agent who put them there was trying to find, but maybe you'll have a better idea than I will." Billy shrugged. "And besides, some things are best left private."

Amanda nodded, biting on her lip. "Okay."

"How are you holding up?" Billy wanted to know. "You look tired."

"I'm okay," Amanda lied. She pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose, in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. "We had a fight."

"You and Scarecrow? Over what?"

She gave a gasping laugh, near tears. "Privacy. He left my house this morning because of a stupid fight, and I haven't seen him since."

"We'll find him, Amanda," Billy told her. "Wherever he is, we'll find him."

She nodded. "I know."

He pushed the package on his desk toward her. "Go upstairs to the Q-Bureau and listen to these. There's a lot here, and I need you to go through as much as you can, as quickly as possible."

She nodded, taking the package and standing. As she moved toward the door, she turned back to Billy with a sudden question. "How did you find the tapes, if you didn't find the mole?"

"They were mailed to us," Billy told her. "Chuck Havers brought them to me this morning."

Amanda sat in the Q-Bureau thinking about what Billy had just told her. So Chuck had found the tapes, had he? Chuck, who had put his own name on the suspect list, who was full of accusations and theories. She shook her head, trying to make sense of it all. Usually, she could see things like this so clearly--things that seasoned agents like Lee, or Billy, or even (once or twice) Dr. Smyth might overlook. But this time, she was drawing a blank.

"You're just tired, Amanda," she told herself, and opened her drawer to find the portable cassette player she bought when she'd started running, nearly six months before.

She settled on the sofa and pulled out the first cassette. They weren't dated, so she grabbed a pen and pad of paper to listen with, and pressed "play."

The first sound she heard was a door opening, and Lee's voice.

"Oh, come on." He was laughing. "Do you really think Gene Hackman made a good Federal Agent? I thought he was a joke...."

Then her own voice. "Only in that first movie. And he can't help a bad script."

"I guess." His voice changed then, and for a moment there was only the sound of rustling clothing--their jackets being tossed across a chair. She remembered the kiss--the way he tasted, felt, smelled, and the way he drew away from her. "Do you want a glass of brandy?" he asked, breathless.

"Mm. Brandy? Yes, brandy sounds nice." Her voice sounded husky--she'd never heard it on tape that way before--but there was no mistaking who it was.

Amanda remembered that night--nearly every minute of it. After all, it had only been two weeks ago. She had stayed, though it wasn't all on the tape. The boys were with Joe, and her mother had gone away for the weekend to visit relatives, so she stayed that night and the next. So their breakfast together the next morning was on the tape, at the beginning of side two, as was their retreat to the bedroom, and their late lunch.

Nothing they spoke about was work-related, not a thing they mentioned had any bearing on any of their cases. They had a work-free weekend, and it had been completely relaxing and wonderful.

As she switched tapes, Amanda wrote down on the pad of paper, "Tape One, Friday to Sunday, October 10-12. Nothing work-related mentioned." As she listened to the second tape, she wondered who had been editing them. This was Lee, on the following Tuesday night, talking to her on the phone, flipping the channels on the television, calling her again. He'd been trying to convince her to get a new car, she remembered, because the struts on the Wagoneer had just about had it. So for a week, every conversation began with "I've been thinking, Amanda. You could get...." She couldn't believe how stubborn she sounded on the phone. How did he put up with her?

At eleven, he had a conversation with Billy, about someone named Stasnovik. She had to play the tape back three or four times to get the name right, because she'd never heard it before, but she made a note of it so she could ask Billy about it, later. She had a feeling he had something to do with the latest case Lee had been working on--without her. She also had the strange feeling that "Stasnovik" was on their side.

After listening to two tapes, Amanda put her notes and the cassettes in a bag and decided to go home. Billy had given her a task, but sitting here in the Q-Bureau was distracting, and she felt helpless. She thought of her mother, and the boys, waiting for her at home--and then of the night before, and having dinner with them and Lee. Her two lives crossed so rarely; she'd have to go home now and pretend nothing was wrong, that Lee was off on business or out with friends, not that he was missing and maybe even gone forever.

She drove home thinking about Stasnovik, and Lee, and the bugs in his apartment. Their fight that morning, and the night before. What if someone had intended all this? What if...Chuck Havers, for instance, wanted Lee and Amanda separated? Divide and conquer, perhaps. Their presence in the Agency was steadily growing--they were a good team, and people knew it. The intelligence community knew it. And could two partners work together if they were personally involved? She wasn't sure of the policy, but she doubted it. Of course, Billy already had a good idea about it and he wasn't pushing to split them up, which was something she couldn't really understand.

The questions followed her up the driveway and through the back door of her house, where she found her mother sitting at the kitchen counter, eating a piece of toast.

"Oh, Amanda," Dotty greeted. "You're finally back! Where's Lee?"

Amanda thought about what to say to her mother, then decided on partial truth. "I'm not sure," she said. "We had a fight this morning."

"Oh, honey, how come?"

"It's kind of hard to explain." Amanda shrugged. "Brought our work home with us, I guess. I don't think he'll be staying here tonight." She swallowed hard and turned away from her mother, opening the refrigerator and pretending to be interested in dinner.

"You know, dear, you should never go to bed angry. I would say that's the secret to your father's and my happiness. We always made up right away."

"I know." Amanda slammed the refrigerator door and swallowed again. "Where are the boys? I want to order a pizza."

Amanda sat on the couch until three in the morning, listening to the tapes through headphones. She couldn't sleep, and nothing she did would make her sleep. She doubted she'd sleep until she saw Lee again, safe and sound. Someone had recorded everything they did together, all their conversations, and someone else had cut out the extra. She had no idea what was going on, but she knew that she'd be in Billy's office at seven-thirty the next morning, quizzing him about Leopold Stasnovik. Stasnovik's name had surfaced in ten telephone conversations between Lee and Billy, yet Lee had never mentioned the man to her.

Amanda looked at her notes again. On October 15, Lee had mentioned that Stasnovik was still underground. What did that mean? Were they searching for him? And if they were, why wasn't she involved in any of it?

She pulled the earphones off and stretched out on the sofa, flipping through the scribbles on the pad of paper. None of it was clear to her. None of it. And she didn't know how it would be clear to anyone.

Chuck Havers was waiting for her when she opened the door to the Q-Bureau the next morning. He was sitting casually at Lee's desk, but he stood when she opened the door, and self-consciously tugged at his jacket.

"Amanda--" he began.

"I don't think I'm speaking to you," she said, her voice cold. She put the cassette player back in her desk drawer.

"Look--I need to explain a few things--"

"Forget it. I have a meeting with Mr Melrose." She turned her back and left the room, heading for the elevator. She heard footsteps behind her and stopped. "Don't follow me."

In Billy's office, she set the package of cassettes on his desk, and sat down with the notepad in her hands. "I have some questions," she said.

"About?"

"Leopold Stasnovik."

Billy nodded. "I figured you might." He leaned back in his chair, noting the circles under her eyes. "We don't know who he is or who he worked for, but his name has been surfacing in intelligence circles with alarming frequency."

"Was Lee trying to find him?"

"No. Lee wasn't on the case--you'd have known about it if he had been." Billy shrugged. "Lee knows people, Amanda. People tell him things. So we got him to ask a few discreet questions. Nothing more." Billy leaned forward in his chair. "The thing is, Stasnovik might not even be real."

Amanda was even more puzzled, now. "You mean someone invented him?"

"It's possible. It's the perfect way to pin certain activities on someone, if that person doesn't exist. You follow?"

She nodded. "What about the investigation? Who was investigating it originally?"

She knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth. "Havers was part of the team." Billy was silent for a moment. "Why are you giving the tapes back?"

"I thought you might want to hear the specifics. Certain phone conversations. But...but I realize now that since you were on the other end, you probably don't need to do that." She shook her head. 'I'm sorry--my mind's fuzzy today."

"I didn't think you'd get through all of the tapes. Did you sleep last night?"

"Not really. And they needed to be listened to."

"Don't run yourself ragged over this, Amanda."

"I don't see that I have any other option," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm worried about Lee."

"We all are. And we're all looking for him. Francine's been here all night, too. Maybe you could go talk to her, find out if she's any closer to finding him."

Amanda nodded. "Can I ask you something?" Billy nodded. "What's the Agency policy regarding...partners...and the relationships they have?"

"Officially? Partners should only have a business relationship."

"Why are we the exception then?"

Billy smiled and shrugged. "You're a good team, and I'm not going to let anything split you up. And you, Amanda, make Scarecrow a much better agent than he ever used to be. He used to be good, of course, but quick to act. You've taught him the value of thinking things through."

"I've been thinking this through for two days and I haven't come up with any answers," Amanda muttered.

"It's not the answers I expect from you," Billy said. "You always ask the right questions, and the answers follow."

Amanda found Francine sitting at a desk in the bullpen, surrounded by files. Though the two women were often adversaries in some ways, they had recently cultivated an uneasy friendship. Francine had accepted that Amanda was good at what she did, and also that her own job was in no danger. And Amanda had realized that some of Francine's initial animosity had come from seeing Amanda's "other life".

"Hi," Amanda said as she sat down in a chair across from the blond agent. "I brought you a drink. Rough night?"

Francine nodded, taking the styrofoam cup. "Yeah. You too?"

"Yeah. I went through the tapes."

Francine sniffed the steam rising from the cup Amanda had given her. "What is this stuff? I was expecting coffee."

"Peppermint tea. It'll wake you up, and it's better for your stomach than coffee is. Trust me." She nodded at the bottle of antacid on the desk between them. "You won't need those anymore."

"Do you get Lee to drink this stuff?"

Amanda laughed. "Are you kidding? He keeps Juan Valdez in business." Both women went silent as it occurred to them that there'd likely be no morning coffee for Lee today. "Did you find anything?"

"Bits and pieces. Did Billy fill you in on Stasnovik?"

Amanda nodded. "His conversations with Lee were on the tape." Amanda hesitated. "The thing is...those tapes were edited, Francine. They either didn't run continually, or someone sat down and edited them."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because...because I was on some of them. And I know that part of our conversations were cut off, certain things were missing." Amanda paused. "You know how in the movies, they'll always turn the television on at the exact moment the news anchor is giving out some pivotal information? That's what the tapes were like. They were...slanted...a certain way. To make it look like Lee was dealing only with certain people, or only working on certain cases."

"Really?" Francine leaned back in her chair. "Hm."

"It sounded like Lee was right in the middle of the Stasnovik case, but Billy just finished telling me he wasn't."

"That's right," Francine agreed. "He was just putting out the word to some of his contacts, and Stasnovik's name came up a few times." She shook her head. "Weird."

"Billy told me that Chuck Havers is on the case."

Francine held up her hand. "Now, Amanda, don't go down that road again. I know what Chuck said to you yesterday was completely out of line, but I really don't think he'd be capable of involvement in anything like this."

"He was waiting for me upstairs this morning," Amanda said. "He said he had a few things he needed to explain."

"Most likely about Stasnovik. Why didn't you hear him out?"

Amanda shook her head. "I don't know. I really don't....Yes, I do. I didn't listen to him because I don't trust him. I didn't trust him the moment I met him, and he hasn't given me any reason to feel differently."

Francine didn't know what to say to that. Amanda's feelings were perfectly valid. Chuck did have a way of making women ill at ease, especially in investigative situations. "Maybe just listen to him anyway," she suggested. "If he is involved, he might let some information slip that we don't have right now."

Amanda nodded. "Did you find anything out last night?"

"Not really. Some field agents called in with sightings of a man who looks like Lee, in Maryland, but I'm pretty skeptical of those. I don't believe Lee ran, and I don't believe he dropped out of sight. He'd tell you, if he told anyone."

"We had a fight," Amanda told her. "So maybe not."

"Oh, come on, Amanda, it'd have to be a be-all and end-all fight, for him to not say to his partner, 'my life's in danger, I'm dropping out for a while.'" Amanda shrugged and shook her head, looking distressed, and Francine reached out to touch the other woman's arm. "Come on, I'm serious. He'd tell you anything. And if he didn't tell you...he'd tell Billy."

"Yeah." Amanda cleared her throat and nodded. "I guess you're right."

"You know I'm right. Now go find Havers and let him bend your ear. We need everything we can get."

She found Chuck Havers in his office, on the ninth level of the Agency. Amanda had always had a strange, claustrophobic feeling when it came to visiting a place so far below ground--agents lived such strange lives to begin with, she didn't really think it was fair to make them hide away like this.

Chuck was different than he had been the previous times she'd met him--she could tell that right away. He gestured for her to come in and sit, and when she did, he leaned back in his chair and looked at her, cautiously.

"So are we speaking now?"

"Maybe," Amanda allowed. "That depends on your explanation."

Havers nodded. "That's fair enough....I want to help you find Lee, Amanda. I honestly don't believe that he ran--"

"That's not what it sounded like yesterday."

"There was a reason for that. If you hear me out, you'll understand." Amanda didn't speak, and she looked dubious, so Havers took a deep breath before beginning. "I was on the team investigating Leopold Stasnovik," he said. "And I know who he is."

Amanda nodded. "All right. Go on."

"I'd better start at the very beginning. Almost a year ago, we received reports that someone in the Agency was in collusion with two former KGB agents who had turned mercenary, Anton Ninov and Sergei Mishka. We weren't sure who it was, or even whether to believe the stories, but we did know that information was leaking somehow--I mean, when isn't it, really? We had our list of usual suspects, we followed the usual procedures. The investigation was inconclusive....And then the body of one of the mercenaries turned up...one piece at a time."

Amanda grimaced, wondering how all of this had escaped their knowledge.

Chuck settled in his chair, and continued. "Word surfaced that someone named Leopold Stasnovik had done the deed. In fact, his name surfaced quite regularly over the next six months. We didn't know who he was, or what he was, or why he'd killed Mishka, but he had, and we didn't know how to handle it. Everything we knew told us that Stasnovik had nothing to do with us, but leaks were continuing and Ninov was wreaking havoc by himself....And then someone started to plant a rumor to the contrary."

"Who started that?" Amanda wanted to know.

"I'm not altogether clear on that. But the name surfaced enough in Lee's dealings with his contacts that we started to listen in on his conversations, and got him to initiate contact with a few people, digging for information." Chuck drew a deep breath. "And then two weeks ago, we received some information that one of our field agents had met Stasnovik face to face." Havers swallowed. "The report said that Stasnovik was a United States Federal Agent, codenamed Scarecrow."

Amanda sat stock still, angry and unable to believe it.

Havers thought she had misunderstood, and leaned forward to explain. "Amanda, they think Lee is Stasnovik."

"Who does?" she burst out. "And why do they think that? Do they realize how wrong they are?"

"I know, I know. I don't think they have any idea how impossible it all is. But this is the thing, Amanda. They think Lee's running. They believe that he's Stasnovik without any proof from a definite source. Someone very high up is trying to rain on your parade, here, and we don't have any idea who it is."

"How can you not know?"

"There are areas of this organizaiton, the FBI and the CIA, that are so deep and separate from us it's impossible for us to comprehend. Some people--" Havers hesitated--"some believe that they're working against us, even."

"I know about all that," Amanda said, frustrated. "I've experienced the Agency turning in on itself, chasing its own agents. I know exactly what that is."

Havers nodded. "Of course you do."

"Anyway, how does anything you've told me get us closer to finding Lee? How are we supposed to prove he's not Stasnovik?" She wasn't sure now whether to believe Havers, but right then she had nothing else to go on. "We'll have to find the real Stasnovik, is all," she said finally, her voice firm and clear.

Havers looked up at her, surprised. "We haven't been able to find him so far. What makes you think we're going to be able to do it now?"

"Because now, we don't have any choice."

Ten hours later, Amanda sat with Billy, Francine, and Chuck Havers in the section chief's office, searching for meaning to what Chuck had discovered that afternoon. A man matching Lee's description had shot two agents at a safe house near Baltimore, then escaped in a late-model, blue sedan. The contact who had occupied the safe house had been moved just fifteen minutes earlier, but the groundskeeper had gotten a good look at the assassin and, used to keeping watch, had described him perfectly.

"I don't believe it," Amanda said. "I think he's been pressured to say it looked like Lee. Lee would never do anything like that, not ever."

Francine leaned forward in her chair. "But what if he's not in control of himself?" she asked. "I mean, we all know there's mind control out there, and it's not like we're all with him twenty-four seven."

Amanda turned to Francine, and before she could stop herself, she was speaking. "I am," she said.

"Not after he leaves here," Francine said, misunderstanding. "The two of you do have home lives, Amanda. He doesn't work all night."

"No, but we're usually together." She couldn't backpedal now. She felt Billy and Chuck watching her. "We've been...seeing each other."

Francine's bright blue eyes widened slightly. Amanda could tell she didn't know what to do with that information. "You have?" she stammered.

Amanda just nodded. "For a few months now....It's all right on the tapes."

Francine just sat, startled.

"Look, the possibility's still there," Chuck suggested. "I mean, the two of you don't live together, right? And you have your kids to look after, and....even if you were married, whoever wanted to could find a way to get to Lee. We shouldn't discount that."

"I don't believe it was him," Amanda countered, stubbornly. "Even with mind control. I don't believe that was him at all."

Chuck backed off, holding his hands up to close the argument.

"Anyway, if it's an inside job, how can we believe anything the field is telling us?" Amanda wanted to know. "How do we know all that isn't coming through some kind of a filter?"

Billy sighed. "We don't. That's just it. We're isolated."

"So how do we get un-isolated?" Francine wondered, finally having collected her thoughts. She looked over at Amanda, suddenly understanding the circles under the other woman's eyes, and seeing the fierce determination on her face. That determination comforted her, because even if she didn't always get along with Amanda King, Francine knew that she would do what she set her mind to.

Getting "un-isolated" was the problem that consumed the four for the rest of the afternoon. There was nothing, anywhere, that indicated where Lee could have gone--the only consistency between any story they had was a blue sedan, and they didn't even have a license plate to go along with that. When they broke for dinner, they had agreed that Chuck would consult the local police departments, trying to determine if anyone had reported any strange activities on Saturday.

Francine found Amanda in the bull-pen, making fresh coffee. She felt she should say something to Amanda, even though they'd had their share of disagreements. This was, after all, about Lee, and as much as Francine hated to admit it, Lee was something the two of them had in common. But standing beside Lee's partner, Francine was suddenly at a loss for words.

"I thought you'd be making peppermint tea," she said, a little awkwardly.

Amanda looked up at her and shook her dark head. "No." She went back to measuring the coffee, her shoulders drooping.

"I...um..." Francine cleared her throat. "I'm sorry about the way I reacted in there when you told me about you and Lee."

Amanda shrugged. "It's okay."

"It's just that...you surprised me. It's something that I'd suspected was happening for a long time, but no one had ever confirmed it and--" Francine laughed, nervously-- "the idea of it used to make me ridiculously jealous."

Amanda just looked at her colleague, not sure how to react.

"The thing is, Amanda....I know he loves you. There was something between you long before any of this started, and I sensed that. I think it was why I was so antagonistic toward you for so long." She watched as Amanda put cups on a tray. "I'm sorry for that. I really am. We both care about him, and finding him is what's most important."

Amanda just nodded, a lump in her throat. She couldn't look at Francine, but deep down she was glad--maybe for the first time ever--that Francine understood how she felt.

Amanda wandered into through the back door of her house, exhausted and dejected. She couldn't pretend that everything was normal, she just couldn't. It was too much to ask.

Her mother looked up as she dragged herself through the kitchen. "Hi, sweetheart," Dotty said. "You look exhausted. Have you been at work all day?"

"Since...seven." Amanda looked at her watch, confused. It read ten after eight, in the evening. Had she been gone that long? "Is it really so late?"

"Yes. I saved dinner for you, if you want. It's in the oven."

"Okay. Thanks." She sat down on a stool for a minute, exhausted. Dotty got up from the sofa, tossing her needlepoint aside, to get her daughter some dinner.

"I don't know if I like you being out in the dark like this, Amanda," Dotty was saying as she opened the oven. "I was talking to Mrs. Webster at the end of the street today, and she saw the oddest thing the other morning. She thinks it was a kidnapping,

but the police won't listen to her--"

Amanda's head snapped up. "What?"

"She said that she saw a man get kidnapped. Saturday morning, at about eight a.m. Now don't you think that's the oddest time for a kidnapping?"

Amanda could hardly think. "Mrs. Webster did? Mrs. Webster....which house does she live in?"

"Forty-two-thirty-one. What's got you so upset, Amanda? I know it's a horrible thing, but I also know that Mrs. Webster can exaggerate...."

Amanda stood and picked up her coat. "I've got to go out for a minute, Mother."

"What about your dinner? Amanda?"

She heard Dotty calling after her as she headed for the door. She just waved, pulling on her coat. Her breath came in little gasps--she could see it in the air as she walked down the street--and her heart was going a mile a minute. If Mrs. Webster had paid attention....if she had seen something, even a car....

She rang the bell to 4231, her hand shaking. Amanda recognized Mrs. Webster from the neighborhood, not because she'd ever met her before. She wondered if the Websters had moved in after she'd started at the Agency, because before that she probably would have made an effort to get to know them.

"Hello," she said, trying to look bright. "I'm Amanda King, from down the street. Are you Mrs. Webster?"

"Yes...oh, you're Dotty's daughter, aren't you? I've seen you around with your boys." Mrs. Webster was a slender, petite woman, Amanda guessed she was probably in her early sixties. "What can I help you with, dear? Do come in...."

"My mother said you saw something on Saturday morning? A...a kidnapping?"

"Oh." Mrs. Webster laughed. "Yes. Those police won't listen to a word I have to say, you know. They don't believe that things like this happen in Arlington, but they do, don't they?"

"Yes," Amanda agreed. "Of course they do. Do you think you could tell me what you saw, Mrs. Webster?"

"Of course, dear. Why don't you sit down?"

Fifteen minutes later, Amanda was on the telephone to the Agency from Mrs. Webster's kitchen. She could hardly keep her voice steady.

"I need someone to come over here and file an official report," she told Billy. "I can't do it, she knows my mother--"

"All right, Amanda. You stay there with her until someone gets there, all right? I'll send Chuck or Francine. Do you have some sort of protection?"

"In my purse...yes." She hated to think of it, hated to handle it, hated everything about it. "Chuck or Francine? One of the two?"

"Yes, absolutely. We can't just send anyone now. Just wait there....can you wait there with her?"

"Yes, I think so. She's making a cup of tea."

Francine rang the doorbell twenty minutes later. Amanda answered, having seen her come up the sidewalk. Mrs. Webster was, by now, a very worried woman. Amanda sat with her during Francine's interview, trying to assure the elderly woman that she had nothing to worry about. But as she listened to Mrs. Webster's story again, she felt the last days piling up on her. When she and Francine left, nearly an hour later, Amanda stood on the sidewalk and stared at the street in front of her.

"Amanda?" Francine asked, hesitant. She laid a gentle hand on the other woman's shoulder. "This is good--that she saw something, that she saw the car again. We've got more than we had this morning. We'll find him."

Amanda nodded, letting out a gasp. "But he didn't even get to the end of the street," she choked. "He disappeared four houses away from mine, and I didn't even know it. He didn't even get to the end of the street."

"I know." Francine slipped an arm around Amanda's shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. "You need to get some rest. Let's go back to your house."

Amanda nodded, not even questioning Francine's awkward offering of comfort. The two women headed back to Amanda's house, trying to think of a way to explain to Dotty who Francine was and why Amanda was returning not only with a strange woman, but in tears.

The next morning, Amanda was back at work. She hadn't rested. Francine had stayed late the night before, trying to offer at least a little bit of comfort and using Amanda's typewriter to put the report together. Dotty hadn't known what to make of any of it, since Amanda and Francine both avoided her questions; in fact, Amanda had sat in nearly perfect silence for an hour, twisting the belt of her coat around her finger, again and again.

Francine picked her up in the morning, not trusting her to drive, even though Amanda's house was half an hour out of her way. "You look exhausted," she said as Amanda slid into the passenger's seat.

"I couldn't sleep," Amanda said, her voice hoarse. "Did Chuck find anything?"

"Not yet, but Mrs. Webster's information put him a lot farther ahead than he thought. He said they're checking out some areas they hadn't thought of before. Around the Forest Point area."

Amanda just nodded, suddenly studying Francine. 'You didn't sleep, either."

Francine laughed. "No. The dangers of working with other people who are as observant as you are...."

"I guess...." She sighed, then, looking out the window. "I just kept thinking. Not even about searching for him, just about...things. Like the fact that we were trying to plan a weekend away together, or all the times I said I couldn't do this or that because of the boys or Mother or Joe--"

"They're your family, Amanda. He wouldn't want you to brush them off."

"No, that's not what I mean. I guess I just mean I was reluctant to--to--really try and figure it all out. My entire life, you know? My mother loves him, but she doesn't know about this. She doesn't know where he is or what's wrong."

"It's safer that way."

"I know. But it's also harder." She swallowed a lump in her throat, her eyes wide. "I can't believe I told my mother he was away on business," she said.

"Have you talked to Joe?" Francine wanted to know.

"No. No, I haven't had the chance. Besides, what can he do?"

"He could take some of the load off--look after the boys or something."

Amanda shook her head. "Then I'd be answering questions from Mother until the end of time. No. It's better if the boys stay where they are. Besides, it's kind of comforting, having them around."

Francine nodded, silent. They didn't speak again until she parked the car at IFF, but the silence was different than it might have been even a week before. It was something they were both thankful for.

Billy looked grim when they entered his office. He was exhausted--both women saw it around his eyes, the tight lines around his mouth.

"I have some news, ladies. And it's not going to be anything you want to hear," he said as they sat down. Amanda felt her stomach lurch. Billy took a deep breath. "Chuck found a body," he said, softly. "It was, um, pretty badly burned. We're waiting for the forensics guys to take a look at it."

Amanda didn't move. She bit the inside of her lip so hard it bled, without even realizing she was doing it. She was shaking from the inside out, and she didn't know how to stop.

"What can we do until then?" Francine wanted to know. She felt like she had to do something, go somewhere, or she'd go crazy. She couldn't just sit. "Is Chuck still looking?"

"Everyone's still looking. Maybe you'd like to go out there and give him a hand," Billy suggested. He looked at Amanda, who seemed to be looking at him but wasn't. He said her name, and she shook her head.

"No," she said. "I can't go out there."

"That's fine. You can stick around here until we hear something, okay?"

She nodded, looking at her hands. "I'll be in the Q-Bureau," she muttered, suddenly standing. Francine cast a look at Billy and followed her out.

"Amanda--" she called, having trouble catching up to the other woman. "Amanda. We don't know anything, yet. So don't lose hope, okay?"

"No. Of course not." Amanda thought she was going to explode. When she looked at Francine, she saw the same thing. She squeezed Francine's hand. "We'll find him. Alive. And we'll find Stasnovik."

She left Francine and went back into the Q-Bureau, sitting down at her desk. Amanda pulled her notes from the top drawer, and the stack of tapes, and sat looking at them both. She flipped through the pages, desperate to see something that made some sense to her. And then something caught her eye. Forest Point. Lee had said that name when he was talking to Billy, and also--her notes said--as he looked through some papers that of course she didn't know about. She picked up her things and raced back downstairs to Billy's office.

"What did Lee know about Forest Point?" she wanted to know, throwing the door open without even thinking what she was doing.

Billy looked up at her, startled. "What?"

"Forest Point. The two of you talked about it on the phone."

"It's old army land. They're building houses on it, now."

"And?"

"One of Lee's informants was a little suspicious of the deal. He'd heard there was an old bunker there, still full of weapons...." Billy's voice trailed off as he looked up at Amanda. "That's where Chuck found the body." She nodded. "God, Amanda, that was months ago that Lee brought that to me. It's on the tapes?"

"So this goes back much farther than the past month, doesn't it? Back to...?"

"June. It was around June when he came to me with it. You were away that week, with your family."

Ten minutes later the two were poring over a map of the area, trying to pinpoint where Lee's informant had thought the bunker was, where Chuck had found the body, and what had been built there since.

"It looks like they built luxury condominiums there," Amanda said. "But right on top of the bunker? How could they get away with that?"

"Easily. If they're powerful enough to turn the Agency in on itself, they're powerful enough to get the zoning they want," Billy muttered, wryly. Amanda just nodded, knowing he was right.

"Do you think they're still making weapons there, or just storing them?" she wondered. "If this is Stasnovik's hideout...."

"Wouldn't that be great," Billy muttered. Then he swore, shaking his head. "This is a deep one, Amanda. I don't like it. I don't like it a bit."

"I've been wondering about Stasnovik," Amanda murmured. "Do you think Chuck knows him? He's had so many close brushes with him already."

Billy nodded. "It's possible. I mean, that he knows him without knowing that he does. Chuck's been around a long time. Let's look at that list again."

Amanda drew it out of her folder, smoothing it out on the desk, carefully. "We put it away after a while," she told Billy. "I thought it was making us think things we shouldn't, and Lee agreed there were other possibilities out there that we had to consider."

Billy nodded, looking at the list. "The thing is that we checked most of these names over when this whole thing started," he said, "but there's a name missing from the list, now that I think about it. No, two."

"Which two?" Amanda wanted to know. She watched breathlessly as he wrote down the names of two agents, Paula Hanson, and Jake Torrington. "I know Paula," Amanda exclaimed. "She's that little redhead in Surveillance, right?"

"That's right. She's a specialist. A real tough cookie. She worked with Chuck a few years ago, but there's always been talk of her being involved in some pretty shady activities." Billy sighed. "Of course, there's nothing that anyone could pin on her."

"And Torrington?"

"He's a munitions expert. He's always been a bit of a loner. Some think he's the one who phoned in the Stasnovik sighting, but there's nothing to confirm that."

"No," Amanda shook her head. "Of course not."

"Damn. Those names should've come to me a lot sooner than this," Billy griped. "I can't believe I've let it go this long without thinking of that. I'm sorry, Amanda."

'It's not your fault," she told her boss. "It was a passing thing, six months ago. And we didn't have anything to go on."

Billy studied her for a minute. "You see, you really do ask the right questions."

"Paula had to have killed Mishka," Amanda told Billy as they headed for Forest Point. "She was the only one without a strong alibi."

"That wasn't in the report that I read," Billy groused, his foot heavy on the gas. "I was told she was on assignment with six other agents, and they all corroborated it."

Amanda just nodded. She had a feeling the operation was bigger than even they knew. It made her sick to her stomach, to think that Lee could've walked into it all so innocently. "I hope he's in that bunker," she said suddenly.

"Me too," Billy said, "and I hope Paula's within reach."

The car screeched to a halt at the Forest Point gates, and Amanda got out. First she had to find Francine, then she'd meet up with Billy at the complex. She was wearing her running gear so that she'd blend in--Forest Point was full of running trails, and quite popular with the running club at the Y. Amanda had joined it to get started nearly seven months before, but she'd never had the time to keep it up properly. It was much easier to grab time whenever it came to her; sometimes that was at five in the morning, sometimes at three in the afternoon. And the whole reason she'd started doing it in the first place was because of things like this.

As she ran along the trail, deeper into the woods, Amanda kept an eye out for Francine's blond hair, or Chuck's blue coat. She knew they'd found the body somewhere along here--in a spot hidden from view both from the running path and the houses two hundred feet away. She rounded a corner and heard voices--Amanda slowed a little, looking around, then saw Chuck waving at her.

"'Manda," she heard him call, and she quickened her pace, heading toward him. "Hey, what's up? Did you get a break?"

She nodded, gasping a little. The hills were steeper than she was used to. "Yeah, we did....Where's Francine?"

"Right here, Amanda. What's going on?" Francine wanted to know.

Amanda filled the two of them in. Francine pulled her car keys out of her pocket and headed for where she'd parked. Amanda said goodbye to Chuck and resumed running on the trail. Ten minutes later, she came out at the spot she and Billy had arranged, just down the street from the luxury condominium complex, Forest Point Peak. She could see Billy's car parked out in front, and then what she thought was a flash of red hair on a woman going into the complex. Her stomach tightened, but she kept her pace steady. If that was Paula, Amanda didn't want to attract any extra attention to herself.

Just before she reached the complex, Amanda ducked through the parkade entrance and headed toward the back of the building. She met Francine near the back doors.

"I had to knock out a security guard back there," Francine whispered, holding up a ring of keys. "I hope you guys are right about this."

"Me too," Amanda said, slipping through the door. The two women moved quietly down the back staircase, careful of their surroundings. Amanda could feel the gun Billy had made her carry, tucked into the back of her running tights, and hoped she'd never have to use it.

They crept down the hall, toward the door at the end. "There's another floor below this," Amanda whispered, watching for security cameras. "And then the bunker."

Francine just nodded, reaching for the doorknob. The door clicked open easily, and Francine's forehead wrinkled in confusion before a fist hit her full in the face. Amanda jumped backward, ready for an attack and to catch Francine as she fell against the wall, but whoever had hit Francine was quick too, and ran past them down the hall.

Amanda gave chase, reaching for the gun that she'd hoped she'd never use, and then she saw Chuck outside, waiting as the attacker went through the outside door. His gun was drawn and the person stopped, turned, caught sight of Amanda and her weapon, and stood still. As Amanda moved closer she realized it was Paula, wearing a wool hat.

"So it was you, after all," she said softly. "Where's Lee?"

Paula nodded her head in the direction of the building. "Out of sight, where he should be. In his hideaway."

"It's not his hideaway, Paula. It's yours," Amanda said. She straightened as something occurred to her. "You're not just involved with Stasnovik," she said, "you are Stasnovik."

Paula's smile answered everything for Amanda. "You're pretty quick, for a rookie agent," she observed. "I could've used you, I think, if you hadn't been so loyal to your boyfriend."

Amanda didn't comment. It occurred to her that Paula had to have been one of the smartest, but bitterest people she'd ever known. "Why did you do this?"

"You're a woman. You work at the Agency. Don't you get tired of not being taken seriously? It's always been a struggle, Amanda. For them to take me seriously, for them to realize that I was as good as the men out there. Because I am--look at this!" Paula laughed. "I made them listen. I made Chuck squirm, and I got to watch it from under his very nose. I made Lee pay for every woman he ever discarded....He would've discarded you, too, you know. It was only a matter of time."

Amanda shook her head. "Where is he?"

"You'll have to find him yourself. You're bright. You can do it." As she spoke, Paula turned toward Chuck, reaching into her jacket. Amanda saw the flash of a blade and saw Chuck fire--she watched in horror as Paula fell to the ground.

Chuck and Amanda stood, looking at each other, as Francine came stumbling out the doorway, holding her face. Her nose was bleeding. She looked at the body on the ground between Chuck and Amanda, then at the two agents.

"Did she tell you where Lee is?" Francine asked.

"No," Amanda said. "I'm going to look, right now. Are you all right?"

"I think my nose is broken," Francine muttered.

"I'll run you back to the site," Chuck offered, "and I'll catch up with you here in a couple of minutes, okay, Amanda?"

"Yes, fine." She hesitated. "Do you think it's secure in there?"

"Billy's checking everything out. He radioed me--that's why I was here. He's in

the penthouse." Chuck pressed his radio into her hand. "In case you need to reach him."

Amanda headed back down the hall, toward the door where Paula had come flying out at them. She found another staircase--two flights down, she found herself face to face with a heavy door. She turned the wheel and opened it, knowing she'd found the bunker.

What she saw inside startled her. The room was an Agency dream, full of every kind of tracking, surveillance, and communications equipment imaginable. She looked at a row of television screens, and saw Billy in one of them, checking out the penthouse. Elevators, hallways, and even other Forest Point streets filled the other screens, though Amanda had a feeling their cameras were usually trained on specific subjects. She realized that no one would ever know the extent of Paula's operation.

"Mr Melrose," she said into her radio, and watched as Billy responded. "I'm in the bunker. I can see you." He looked around him, wondering where the camera could be.

"Have you found anything, yet?"

"No....It looks like one big room, so I don't know if Lee's down here. Paula's dead," she told him, scanning the walls for a doorway. She spied what looked like an elevator door on the far wall. Amanda pressed a button and the doors slid open. She stepped inside, unsure of whether she'd be going up or down, into more trouble or into safety. "I found an elevator," she said into the radio. "I'll let you know where I end up."

"Be careful, Amanda."

The ride seemed to take forever, and she was definitely going up, not down. When the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open, Amanda felt a gust of wind meet her face. "I'm on the roof," she whispered, carefully stepping out. The top of the building seemed deserted. Amanda scanned the surface carefully, moving as quietly as she could over the gravel. Directly across from her, on the other side of the roof, was what looked like a shed, made out of cement blocks with a metal door. The perfect place to hide a prisoner, she thought, as she moved toward it.

Amanda tried the doorknob and naturally found it locked. "Lee?" she called, and heard a faint, muffled response. She stood back from the door, took careful aim, and fired at the lock. She threw it open and gasped as stale air hit her full in the face. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she caught sight of Lee, leaning in a corner.

"Amanda," he muttered, lurching toward her as she stepped across the dark room. "Oh, thank God."

She put her arms around him, feeling him shaking, trying to hold him up.

"Oh...you're hurt, aren't you?"

"My arm," he said, through gritted teeth. "I'll be okay." He blinked hard at the sunlight, looking around him. "Are we on the roof?"

"Yeah." She reached up a hand to touch his bruised, grimy cheek, then kissed his mouth. His lips were dry and cracked, but she didn't care.

Lee chuckled, burying his face in her hair. "I've got hostage breath."

"I don't care. You've got breath--that's all that matters." They stumbled toward the elevator together, and Amanda spoke into her radio again. "Mr Melrose? I found him."

"Good work, Amanda....Lee?"

"Hi Billy," Lee said, his voice hoarse as Amanda held up the radio to him. "Are we safe?"

"You bet. Meet you downstairs, okay?"

As the elevator started downwards, Lee leaned back from Amanda a bit to look at her. "What are you wearing?"

She laughed, shrugging. "I had to do a little running today."

He chuckled. "You look like a little commando, with the gun and the radio." He tugged on her ponytail. "Looks like you've been fully initiated, now. You're in the game."

She nodded, her eyes dark. "And I think I even won this round, didn't I?"

Hours later, Amanda leaned back in a chair beside Lee's bed, so exhausted the room seemed to be floating around her. She had finally called her mother at around six that evening, to tell her that Lee had been in a car accident and that she was at the hospital.

"Did you kiss and make up?" Dotty wanted to know.

"We're going to," Amanda said, her voice gravelly. "The second he wakes up....I just wanted you to know I'll be pretty late tonight. He'll probably get out tomorrow or the next day."

"All right, darling."

"I'll talk to you later, then, Mother. Give the boys a hug for me. I love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart. See you later."

And now she sat, the lie having floated across the phone lines and into her mother's consciousness, thinking about what she'd done that day, that week. She'd carried a gun, she'd helped with an investigation. She'd shot the lock from a door. But what she really wanted, sitting beside the man she loved, was to take him home, make dinner with him, and talk about a normal day. Did he ever want that? Did he want a comfortable home, and a family?

She leaned forward as Lee stirred and his eyes fluttered open. "Hey," she said, smiling at him. He smiled back, drowsy.

"Hey."

"How are you feeling?"

"Pretty groggy....Thirsty. Is that a cast?" He looked down at his arm. "Damn."

"You broke it. They said you were pretty dehydrated, and in shock," she explained, pouring water from a pitcher. She stuck a straw into the glass and held it as Lee sipped. "Go easy," she cautioned. Amanda put the glass on the bedside table and looked at him.

"God, it's good to see you," he muttered, reaching a shaky hand to touch her cheek. Amanda covered his hand with hers and kissed his palm.

"You too, Stetson. I almost thought I'd never see you again."

"I wasn't so sure, either," he admitted. "Is everything cleared up...with the Agency, and everything?"

"Yes. Billy spoke to Dr. Smyth this afternoon. Your name's clear." She paused. "They identified the body Chuck found."

"Torrington?"

"Yeah. Paula had quite an operation going."

Lee rolled his eyes. "I'll say. I wonder how many people she had working with her?"

Amanda shrugged. "Billy thinks it'll take months to root them all out. We may never get at all of them." She stroked his hand, squeezing it, gently. "I'm sorry, about what happened with us. The fight."

Lee shook his head. "I should be sorry, not you. I should've stopped to listen to you, instead of flying off the handle like I did."

"You had a lot on your mind."

"We both did."

Amanda nodded, shifting in her chair. "You were right about some things," she said. "About me jumping at the chance to work at the Agency....I've done all these things, and I haven't taken the time to figure out how my two lives are supposed to fit together." Her voice faded away, stuck in her throat, and when Lee looked at her he saw tears in her eyes. "I was worried about Philip and Jamie, and what would happen if they found out about the kinds of people we deal with. And what our relationship is like when they're not around."

Lee nodded, understanding. "So what about your two lives? Did you come to any conclusions?"

Amanda shook her head. "I don't want to lose either life, and I want you in both of them. And I don't know how I can have that."

"I think you've done pretty well, so far," Lee said, and Amanda shrugged. "It isn't simple, is it? I should've warned you, back at the beginning."

"I'm glad you didn't," she admitted, trying to smile. "There's a lot about this life that makes everything worth it."

"Like what?"

"Like this." Amanda leaned forward and kissed his mouth, gently. "That makes it very worth it."

Lee chuckled, nodding. "I have to agree with you, there." His smile faded a little, and when he spoke his voice was husky. "I love you, you know. In both lives."

"I know." The intensity of his green eyes made her heart jump. "I love you, too."

"You should go home to the boys, get some sleep," he said, and she knew he was getting drowsy again. "You look exhausted."

"I will. In a minute." She sat and watched his eyes close, her hand covering his on the bed. Amanda waited until Lee was sound asleep before she got her things together and went downstairs to find a cab.