The next morning, Ms. Cregg informed me that she was going shopping at lunch, probably figuring I'd tell her that was out of the question. Instead I said mildly, "Sure. Where are you going?"

"Does it matter?" From the tone of her voice I half wondered if she wanted me to tell her a particular place wasn't permitted so she could try and insist on going there. Immediately I chastised myself mentally for the cynicism. I'd recently attended a training workshop on providing protection for witnesses, and part of the training had been putting each of us under a security detail for 72 hours. The idea had been to help us understand what it's like for a person who has to go from living a normal life to living under constant supervision and why some of them would have less than obliging attitudes at times.

The memory of that training was why I responded with a slight grin and, "I like to let the manager know I'll be carrying a gun."

I don't know if she actually appreciated the touch of humor, but her tone was less challenging and more conversational when she answered, "I'm taking my niece Hogan shopping for a dress for her Junior Prom."

"Okay," I replied. She gave me a sidelong look.

"You're not gonna say that Hogan's a strange name for a girl?"

Not without knowing her opinion first. "For a boy too, I guess," I said.

"My older brothers are golf crazies."

That didn't help much, since I don't follow golf, but all I said was, "Okay." I followed her back into her office. "Well, it's our first time out, this is exciting. We're not under the umbrella of the president's protection, so there's a couple things I wanna tell you. In a populated place, I always walk ahead of you. I don't like more than five feet between us, so if you ditch me because my back is to you, that would be too much. Also, it would give me no choice but to surround you with department security before you made it to Men's Accessories. You're a very recognizable woman; if you're surrounded by security, frankly, people are gonna point and stare."

Ms. Cregg shot me a less than enthusiastic look. "Anything else, Agent Sunshine?"

I wondered briefly if the press secretary had any idea of the amount of ridicule she'd set me up for from Josée with those two words. Aloud, I said, "It's Special Agent Sunshine, but that couldn't matter les. At the risk of being ungentlemanly I can't carry bags; my hands always have to be free."

"Plus you're not my valet."

I couldn't resist an impertinent grin. "Yeah, but I'm still growing and I got my eyes on the prize."

Like usual she ignored my attempt at humor and said, "Bernie's on Connecticut at 12:30."

"I'm optimistic," I told her. "The stats of people being hurt while buying a prom dress are very encouraging."

"It's a Junior Prom." Well, that was a better response than I'd gotten from the Russian team. A couple of them had asked me if there were actual statistics of people being injured while shopping. I'd had fun trying to dig myself out of that one.

"Then you're fine."

"Okay." I gave her a quick smile.

"I'll be around." I'd barely gotten outside the door when my cell phone rang. Quickly I flipped it open. "Donovan."

"How's it going, Agent Sunshine?" Josée's laughter was unmistakable.

"Don't go there."

Josée chuckled again. "Just letting you know, the background checks came back, nothing."

"Crap." I sighed. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'll let you go behind a cloud now." She giggled and hung up before I could respond.

ooooooooooooo

"What is it that you guys look for exactly?" I looked over at Hogan and smiled. This shopping trip was fast becoming one of the more fun moments of this assignment. Hogan Cregg had an interest in law enforcement, and was enjoying asking me questions about the job when she got the chance.

"You know it when you see it."

"What do you mean?" I glanced quickly at the dressing room and, satisfied Ms. Cregg was safe, decided to give Hogan an actual exercise from the protection training I'd taken. I walked over to her and led her to the front of the store. "Look this way." I turned her slightly. "Now look this way. Now look this way. Now look this way. Now look at me. What did you see?"

"Uh... over here there was a mother with two kids. Over there was a man in a coat and I can't remember what else. Over here I can't remember and over here there was the checkout counter and some people and I can't remember what else."

I was impressed. She had a better memory for detail than a lot of kids her age. I asked her, "Anything bother you?"

She shook her head. "No."

"What about the guy in the coat?" She gave me a confused look.

"What about him?" I shrugged.

"It's May. Why is he wearing a coat?" Her eyes lit up in recognition.

"I don't know."

"I don't know either. But until one of us leaves this store I'm always going to know where he is."

"So you're always looking." I nodded.

"Yeah." I flashed her an apologetic smile. "We're actually not supposed to talk that much."

"Sorry." I walked back over to where I'd been standing and Hogan started looking through the dresses again. After a minute, she commented, "So what would it take for you to brandish your weapon?"

Her question caught me off guard and I replied, "What?" She didn't answer and I realized my reply had been more alarmed than necessary. "I mean, excuse me?" I tried.

"What would it take right now for you to just reach in and brandish your weapon?"

I couldn't help but smile. Kids, no matter how old they are, always think law enforcement involves constantly pulling a gun out. "It would have to be something pretty extraordinary."

"How long have you been with the Secret Service?"

I recalled the cover story I'd been given. "Well, I went to college basically on an army scholarship – which means that after you get out you have to serve a certain number of years. Then I was with the Chicago Police Department for a few years and I've been with the Secret Service for the last nine."

"Have you ever brandished your weapon?"

"Yes," I replied honestly.

"Have you ever fired it?"

Unfortunately, too many times. "Yes." Hogan looked at me, confused. "What?"

"I'm just trying to think of when in the last nine years an agent would have had to fire his gun, unless you... You were at Rosslyn."

Crap. I hadn't even thought about that. I was searching for an appropriate response when she said, "Well, you're a good guy." She tried to pat me on the shoulder and without thinking I flinched. "Sorry, am I not allowed to touch you?"

"No, its okay." Just then Ms. Cregg stepped out of the dressing room and looked at us suspiciously.

"Aunt C.J., you're not going to believe this..."

"What?"

I interjected quickly, "Hogan, we're gonna tell her another time, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

"Is Simon bothering you?" Ms. Cregg asked quickly.

Hogan looked at her like she was nuts. "No."

"If he is, if he ever does, I want you to shriek at the top of your lungs, okay?"

"Okay."

Oh, boy. I had a bad suspicion that Hogan hadn't told her aunt about her interest in a law enforcement career, especially since she hadn't asked me that many questions while Ms. Cregg was in earshot. Somehow I didn't think that bringing it up while I was in charge of protection detail would go over that well. Not to mention the fact that I'd just said I'd been at Rosslyn. Anyone who'd worked a day in law enforcement in the last two years knew what happened there. Both the President and a White House staff member had been shot and it was a very real memory for everyone on the current administration. It was one thing for Hogan to believe I'd been there, since she hadn't. But her aunt had. There was a chance she'd remember the security detail from that night – including the fact that I wasn't actually on it.

ooooooooooooo

When we got back to the office, Ms. Cregg asked to talk to me privately. After the door was shut behind us, she said, "What were you and Hogan talking about that you would tell me later?"

I avoided Hogan's law enforcement interest all together and replied simply, "I was on Eagle's protection detail in Rosslyn."

Ms. Cregg looked at me for a minute and I braced myself for a question such as, "I don't remember seeing you." Instead, she said quietly. "Oh, I didn't know that."

She also probably didn't know why it had to be such a secret. I started to try and explain – at least, as much as I could explain, when she said something else, too soft for me to hear.

"I'm sorry?" I said, confused. In all the time I'd been on her protection detail, I'd never had trouble hearing her before when she was addressing me, and I half wondered if she wasn't actually talking to me this time.

"I just said, 'thank you.'" I don't know what surprised me more, her words, or her voice. She sounded almost apologetic, with none of her usual confidence and I honestly didn't know what to say.

"Well, I should get going," Ms. Cregg said, still relatively quiet.

"Have a good night," I answered.

"Good night."

After she'd gone I just shook my head. For the first time since I'd started this assignment, I'd actually caught her off guard and she'd revealed a more vulnerable side. It wasn't something that I'd ever expected to happen and I half hoped she was starting to overcome her resentment of my having to protect her. Still puzzling out the change in her I walked over to her desk and began the mandatory check of her e-mails. Most of them were fairly boring and usual White House business, but one subject line caught my eye, "Vera Wang." Curiously, I opened it and read the contents.

The Vera Wang looked great on you. I'm glad you bought it. You should wear it in the next couple of days because you're going to be dead soon.

I slammed my hand on the desk in frustration. The stalker had been there – in the store we were shopping in. Probably the same bastard in the coat that Hogan and I had noticed. I could have had him. And I didn't.