Series: Snapshots of the Past

Story: The Candidate's Daughter

Chapter 11

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Previously: The Bartlets enjoyed some family fun on the 4th of July, until Jed and Abbey discovered that Doug had brought illegal fireworks into the house

Summary: Jed feels like he's being stalked by a suspicious protester during his tour of Seabrook; Liz makes a big mistake at the campaign

The controversy over the Seabrook Nuclear Power Plant had been brewing for some time in New Hampshire. The groundbreaking was in 1976 and since then, there had been scores of public protests. Some were peaceful - like the one in 1978 when 10,000 people participated in a day-long protest without an incident - but others turned violent, requiring police to use attack dogs and tear gas to keep demonstrators under control.

Tempers flared for years around the state, and in 1986 with the Chernobyl explosion only a few months old, one reactor was ready to operate and residents on both sides of the issue were on-edge. Jed understood that. Though he recognized the dangers of having a plant in New Hampshire, he intentionally chose not to come out in opposition of it until he was able to visit and tour the facility himself. Only then would he take a public stand, he said, despite pressure from campaign aides and his primary opponent. It was that pragmatic side of him that believed it was his duty, as a representative, to tune out the hype and make a decision based solely on the facts of an issue. He was being cautious and that caution earned him a death threat.

On that hot July morning as he traveled along the seacoast to the town of Seabrook, the threat weighed heavily on his mind. Police protection or not, it rattled him and for once, he feared it showed. He kept his eyes on the side mirror, quietly watching the state police cruiser behind him.

"Congressman?" his campaign director, Mark, called from the driver's seat. No response. "Congressman?"

"Yeah, sorry." Jed snapped back to reality. He stared out at the narrow road in front of them. "This is the evacuation route?"

"One of them. The other is Route 1."

"And there are no plans to widen either roadway or come up with an alternate route."

"Hence the problem," Mark replied. "Governor Dukakis is filing a postponement with the NRC, citing the evacuation risk for both New Hampshire and Massachusetts."

"Did he submit a plan?"

"He won't. He's being defiant about the whole thing and threatening to take it all the way to federal court if he has to."

"Might be his best bet." Jed held up a cigarette. "Do you mind?"

"I don't, but Dr. Bartlet will." It was common knowledge in the campaign that Abbey hated Jed's smoking.

"My wife doesn't keep tabs on every move I make." He rolled down the window and pulled out his lighter. "It's a done deal, isn't it? Seabrook. No matter what I say - no matter what any of us say, it's over. We're in the testing phase now."

"That's a defeatist attitude. It's not like you."

"Maybe it is. I had years to come out against Seabrook. I never said a word."

"It never mattered before."

"It always mattered. They got the construction permit back in '76. It mattered then. Even before ground-breaking, it mattered. People rallied around the economic boom to the state. They drowned out the protesters in those early days."

"Is that why you didn't say anything?"

"I didn't say anything because I didn't have an alternative. Coal? Oil? Everyone's tired of that line, including me. We destroy the environment, endanger lives, or we're at the mercy of our enemies. I didn't have a better plan back then and I still don't."

"Yet in spite of that, you're willing to oppose it now." Or was he? It occurred to Mark that Jed could very well keep his silence. "You are, aren't you?"

"We're frighteningly close to the beach," Jed said as they neared the power plant. "If you listen carefully, you can hear children laughing and jumping into the surf. An accident on a hot summer day like today, when tens of thousands of people are swimming and sunbathing, could be a horrific disaster. There's no way to evacuate all those people in the time necessary. We'd be putting all their lives at risk."

"You're going to oppose it." It wasn't a question this time.

"However imperfect our other options are, they're better than this." He took a drag on the cigarette. "Yeah, I'm going to oppose it. I just wish I had done it earlier."

Jed had a point, Mark acknowledged when he parked the car. Only two miles from Hampton Beach and just north of the Massachusetts border, Seabrook Station sat at the edge of a marsh. The two men walked the path toward the front gate where police officers stood guard among two dozen protesters who held signs and chanted their objections with a unified voice, louder and louder as Jed and Mark passed through.

Jed scanned the faces of the demonstrators, hesitating briefly on one particular man who didn't appear to belong. It was in his eyes, that intense look that sent a chill up Jed's spine. They were all passionate, but this man looked downright threatening. He wore a baseball cap and a casual get-up of jeans and a T-shirt. He was the only one with a short rain jacket, though there wasn't a cloud in the sky. There was something else different about him too. Something more forceful, more aggressive. He zeroed in on Jed. Their eyes locked and although Jed kept moving, the man's stare never left him.

Elizabeth Bartlet hated going to the doctor. When she was a baby, she always cried when she had to see one. As a toddler, she became vulnerable and quiet in her parents' arms, unable to hide her fear of being there. As a preteen, she whined and complained when it was time for her annual physical. And as a teenager, the only doctor's appointments that were made without argument were those required for school activities, like basketball or cheerleading.

Now that she was 18, it was all up to her. She no longer needed a pediatrician, but she knew that she needed a doctor. She researched the area to find one who didn't have privileges at any of the hospitals Abbey did, worried that if they were friends or colleagues, her doctor might let it slip that she was a patient. Her mother was a liberal thinker, someone who taught a sex education class at the hospital because she realized that preaching about abstinence wouldn't solve the problem of STDs and teen pregnancy. She was an advocate of responsibility and above all else, good health.

Still, Liz wasn't ready to tell her this.

It was one thing for Abbey to counsel others about the consequences of sex and the steps they could take to keep themselves safe. She was playing her role as a physician without judgment or prejudice. But when she stripped off the white coat and came home at night, she was still Abbey Bartlet, a devout Catholic who, Liz believed, thought that teenagers who were sexually active were playing with fire. She had emphasized waiting to her eldest daughter in an effort to make Liz understand how special it would be when she was older and in the arms of the man she would be with forever.

As Liz sat in the waiting room that day, staring at a wall clock and counting down the minutes until she was called in to see her new doctor, she confirmed in her mind that she was right not to go to Abbey. She couldn't bring herself to look her mom in the eye and admit that she wanted birth control pills.

"Low-power testing will begin on Unit One shortly. After that, it's just a matter of time."

Jed listened to what he was being told about Seabrook during his tour of the plant, but he had already made up his mind. As he told Mark in the car, he couldn't support it like this, not while knowing how insufficient the evacuation routes were. Dukakis was right, he admitted to himself. It wasn't about the election or about exploiting the widespread fears triggered by the Chernobyl disaster to bag votes with constituents. It was simply a matter of safety, or lack thereof.

"Are there risks associated with the testing itself?" he asked.

"No. I understand that you're concerned and that's to be expected after what happened a few months ago, but you should know that American reactors are different. We have more safety features in place to compensate for mechanical failure or human error. We can learn a lot from Three Mile Island..."

"There were evacuations with Three Mile Island. About 150,000 people left the area."

"Those were voluntary."

"All the same, I'm not confident this area is equipped to handle a mass evacuation should something go wrong."

The questions continued as Jed, Mark, and their tour guide exited through a side door to cross the nature path through the surrounding woodlands. A line of protesters had gathered nearby, most of them different than the ones outside the main gate. Only one face looked familiar - the man in the rain jacket with the steely eyes who Jed had noticed earlier. He had changed his position for some reason. He had left the gate and circled to the side of the building as if he wanted Jed to see him again. Somehow, he knew that Jed wouldn't use the front or rear doors to exit, but rather a side door as an extra security precaution.

How did he know that, Jed wondered, and why would he be following him around? Did he just want the attention? Was he trying to make a statement? The man's eyes bore into him. Jed turned from him, but the man refused to look away. Suddenly, Jed's mind wandered back in time to the Independence Day parade a week earlier. He remembered shaking hands and greeting the crowd while his imagination ran wild with images of the person who sent him the death threat. Was the same thing happening again? Was he overreacting, just like he did at the parade?

Suspicion crept through his better senses and he began to feel the danger around him. He took a breath and tried to ignore it, but when he followed his guide forward, he couldn't help but glance at the man once more. He had moved, Jed noted. He had been at the end of the line of protesters just moments before and now, he was in the middle, still shuffling his way toward the front. He was getting closer and closer, as if he was stalking his prey right there in broad daylight in front of everyone.

"What are you thinking?" Mark realized he didn't have Jed's attention. He looked over at the protesters himself, but couldn't figure out why. "What's wrong?"

Jed gave a subtle, inconspicuous gesture. "That guy in the jacket."

"He must be sweltering. Why would he wear a jacket today of all days?"

"Exactly. But it's more than that. Look at him. What do you see?"

"He looks a little rough around the edges."

"He's been keeping track of us since we got here."

"You think he's dangerous?" Mark nodded to the state trooper behind them.

"I've had my eye on him," the trooper whispered to them.

"So I'm not just being paranoid?" Jed asked.

"No, sir, you're not. I've alerted the other officers. We're all watching him."

It was another busy day at Bartlet for Congress campaign headquarters. Liz had arrived an hour late because of her doctor's appointment. When she got there, Jack started her on that day's assignment - updating the names and addresses of all the individual financial donors from Jed's '84 campaign. It was a mindless chore, one that required virtually no thought whatsoever. So, when Doug called to check in with her, Liz didn't think twice about taking the call while typing in the information she'd already gathered.

"Did you get it?" he asked.

"Mmm hmm," Liz answered, a slight blush coloring her cheeks as she thought about the prescription in her purse. "I'll stop by the pharmacy on my way home."

"Won't your dad be with you?"

"We took separate cars today. He had to leave early for Seabrook and he probably won't be home until late."

"You wanna come over after work then?"

"Sure, but don't get your hopes up. They won't kick in for a few weeks." She avoided mentioning the birth control pills by name in case of prying ears.

"That's okay. I'll take care of things tonight, if you're game?"

"I'm always game."

Liz continued typing, but she paid little attention to the screen. Distracted by Doug, she punched the keys while reading the roster of donors to her side. It was only when she turned her head that she gasped at what she had done. The screen had gone black and all the information in front of her had disappeared. Years of financial records, gone. Her heart sank. She quickly hung up with Doug and began smacking the keys to undo whatever it was she had just done.

Back at the plant, Mark's discomfort was growing. The protesters were getting a little more aggressive. Their chants were louder now and they seemed to be closing ranks around the perimeter of the facility. They were arguing their point specifically for Jed, it seemed, and they weren't afraid to tighten the space around him to intimidate him or force him into a confrontation. Mark needed to usher Jed out before the demonstration escalated.

Jed was having similar thoughts. Clouds rolled in and he briefly considered the possibility that the guy in the rain jacket was just a harmless man who had listened to the weather report. But it was too suspicious, he maintained when he saw the man in yet another line of protesters, this time behind the main building. No one else had changed position even once, much less twice. He looked to be mumbling instead of chanting like the others. His body language was more stiff and controlled. And those stares. Behind the unyielding brown eyes aimed directly at Jed was a brooding man deep in concentration.

The state trooper recruited one of the site officers to help him flank Jed on their return to the parking lot. As they rounded a corner that took them out of the gate, a random protester saw an opportunity. She lunged forward toward Jed, screaming at him with a sign in her hand.

"HOW CAN YOU NOT STOP THIS?" she demanded.

The trooper sprang into action to intervene between Jed and the woman, but operating a second ahead, the man in the rain jacket charged the scene. That's when the trooper and the officer both saw it - a gun in the man's pocket.

"FREEZE!" the officer yelled, drawing his own weapon. "Get your hands up!"

Mark jumped in front of Jed as some of the protesters screamed and ducked. Two other officers approached the scene, but the man was already on the ground and his gun was confiscated.

"I'm a licensed P.I.," the man explained. "I have a permit for the gun."

"Why would you bring it to this protest?"

"I was sent to protect the Congressman."

"Yeah, sure you were," the trooper scoffed.

"I'm telling you, I was hired to come in case things got out of hand and you guys needed back-up."

"Hired by whom?" Jed questioned.

The man looked up at him and said, "Your wife."

"What did you do, hire an assassin to take out anyone who looked at me cross-eyed?"

Abbey thought she was having a good day, until she picked up the phone on the private line in her office. "Don't be so melodramatic."

"Who the hell is this guy you sent to the protest?"

"His name is Greg Brown and he's a legitimate P.I."

"How do you know these sketchy characters?"

"What's your definition of 'sketchy'? He used to work narcotics with the Boston PD. He retired last year."

"A vice cop," Jed sputtered. "And you know him how?"

"He's also a friend of Robert Nolan's. I told Rob that I was worried about you going to Seabrook and he offered to get in touch with Greg."

"I had armed police officers with me, Abbey. We could have had a gunfight on our hands!"

"I didn't tell Greg to take a gun!" Abbey hadn't given him much instruction at all. Her only expectation was for Greg to keep Jed out of harm's way if anything went wrong.

"Well, he did. Do you have any idea what could have happened?" Jed was thankful that his campaign had excluded the media from being there to tape the whole thing.

"Yeah, you could have gotten killed by some stalker posing as a protester. Greg's job was to blend in with the crowd to keep things under control."

"Ask me later what a fantastic job he did blending in. It's almost hard to believe he left vice."

"You know what, Jed, as much as I enjoy being yelled at for loving you, I have rounds. We'll talk about this later."

Abbey hung up the phone and stalked out of her office.

Meanwhile, Liz tried everything she could think of to retrieve the donor database she accidentally deleted. Her experience with office computers was limited, but she knew enough to escape the 'black screen of death,' search the hard drive, and check the recycle bin. When all that failed, she re-booted the system and ran into the communications office to beg for help from someone who knew more about computers than she did.

A half hour later, she had to face reality. It was useless. The file was gone. Dreading what came next, Liz knocked on Jack's office door to tell him what happened.

"How did it happen?" Jack asked her.

"I don't know. I must have typed something by accident."

"Like what?"

"I don't know."

"How could you not know what you did?"

"I was on the phone," Liz admitted, refusing eye contact with her uncle. She'd never felt more irresponsible. "I'll redo the list. I'll type it all up again."

"You can't."

"Yes, I can. It'll take me two days, max!"

"Liz, the roster I gave you wasn't complete. I only gave you what I thought you could handle."

"There's more? That's okay, I'll take care of it. Where's the rest?"

Jack opened a drawer and pulled out six thick file folders. "Right here."

"All of those?" Her voice held the tone of defeat. There was enough there to keep her busy for two months, not two days.

"It'll take weeks to type all this into the system."

"I'll do it." There was no other choice. It had to be done.

"Are you sure?"

"I'll get it done as soon as I can," she promised as she took the folders and started toward her desk.

"Look, there's a bigger issue here." Jack spoke up before she got away. "I didn't want to say anything before because things are still a little weird between us, but now that it's affecting the campaign, I have to. You shouldn't be on the phone when you're working on something. I don't think your dad would approve of you talking to Doug so much while you're here."

"Everyone takes personal calls now and then."

"Yours aren't now and then. Doug calls here 10 times a day. Besides, no one else is an intern. You're learning, which means you're prone to errors. Serious ones. If you want to avoid them, you need to get your priorities straight. Your projects and assignments come first. You shouldn't be distracted by other things."

Jed's footfalls were so quiet that neither Jack nor Liz heard him come in and sneak up behind them.

"What's going on?" he wanted to know. "What are you distracted by, Liz?"

Jack could have kicked himself for not noticing his brother. He wanted to get through to Liz, but the last thing he wanted to do was get her in hot water with Jed.

"By all the work I'm giving her," he answered immediately. "I was just saying that I'm giving her too many projects to do. Every time I give her a new one, it distracts her from the others."

Liz appreciated his help, but Jed would find out eventually and she didn't want anyone else taking the heat when he did.

"It's okay," she told her uncle, confident that Jed would understand it was just an accident. "Dad, I messed up. I was talking to Doug and I did something, I don't know what. The computer crashed and I lost our individual donor list."

Jed suppressed that impulsive side of his temper, the side that wanted to react to the agitation the mere mention of Doug's name caused. He restrained himself. There was a learning curve and mistakes were common. No one knew that better than he did. There were countless blunders during his first campaign and there were bound to be some this time. What was important to him was that Liz learn from them, fix them, and move on.

But in order for her to do that, he had to have a word with her first.

He checked with Jack to insure they had the original list, then addressed his daughter. "Could I see you for a minute?"

A bit more apprehensive than she was moments earlier, Liz followed him down the hall and to his office. She couldn't read his mood and that concerned her. "It was an accident, Dad."

Jed closed the door behind them. "That's fine. You've been here only a week; you're entitled to screw up a few times."

Liz was relieved to hear that. "Thanks for being cool about it."

"From now on, I don't want you on the phone when you're working." He caught her rolling her eyes at that directive. "What?"

"Uncle Jack said the same thing."

"We agree. Is that a problem?"

"No, it's just..." She sighed. "I can't talk to my boyfriend or any of my friends when I'm here, but I'm here from 6:30 in the morning until eight o'clock at night some days."

"Welcome to a congressional campaign. You knew the hours when you signed up."

"It didn't seem like a big deal at the time."

"And it does now?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying."

"Do you want to be here?" He waited for her reply, but got nothing in response. "Elizabeth, I'm asking. Do you want to be here? Because you can walk out that door right now, no hard feelings."

"Yes, I want to be here. I want to learn all of this."

"Do your job and you will."

"I'm trying," she said, frustrated. It was clear she'd had a rough day.

"I can see that you are," Jed offered. "Listen, I understand it's the summer before college and you have a lot on your mind. You're not getting paid for this and it's easy to want to goof off. I get that. But I need you to understand that if you want to stay, I can't have you half-assing it. Mistakes are costly when it comes to campaigning."

"I know. I'll be more careful," she said. "And I'll stay off the phone."

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry."

"Accepted. Let's move on."

It was still hard for Jed. He wanted to treat her like any other employee, as she had asked, but he couldn't help looking at her and seeing the daughter he'd taught and guided for 18 years. His instinct was to stand over her and walk her through all her responsibilities at the office, to double-check everything she did and help her understand the right way to do it. But he couldn't do that. Time wouldn't allow it and truth be told, neither would Elizabeth. She was trying to earn his trust. She wanted him to have faith in her to get the job done without tutoring her every step of the way. She had the potential, he thought. He owed her the space to spread her wings and learn on her own. He just hoped that in the end, she'd come through.

Since July was the month a new group of interns began their residency every year, it was always a busy time for Abbey. But this year, it was even worse than usual. Her experiment with the residency program was proving to be more difficult than she imagined and she feared that she was in over her head. That's what she was thinking about that night as she turned off the main road and drove toward the lights that illuminated the farmhouse, gravel cracking under her tires.

She parked and entered the house through a side door they used in the winter. It was close to the kitchen and she could hear laughter coming from the backyard when she went in. She followed it out the back door and onto the porch to see Mrs. Wilburforce watching Ellie and Zoey splash around the pool with their friends.

Zoey was the first to spot her. "Mommy!"

"Hi, sweetheart. Having fun?"

Mrs. Wilburforce stood to greet her. "The girls each wanted to have a friend over. I hope it's okay."

"It's fine," Abbey told her, grateful that her daughters were preoccupied with friends instead of miserable that she hadn't been home all day.

"Mommy, guess what?" Zoey held onto the rim, her wet hair matted against her forehead.

"What?"

"Mrs. Wilburforce took me and Cindy to my riding lesson and now Cindy wants riding lessons too! Her mom wants to talk to you about it!"

"I'll be happy to talk to her anytime, Cindy."

Ellie swam over when Abbey slipped out of her heels and made her way to the edge of the pool. "Mom, can Wendy spend the night?"

"Cindy too?" Zoey pleaded.

"You two aren't hanging out with us all night!"

"We don't want to, dork!"

Abbey was taken aback by her six-year-old. "Zoey, where did you learn that word?"

"What word?"

"You know very well what word. 'Dork.' "

"Ellie called me one this morning."

"Since when is it okay to call each other names?" Both girls shrugged. "Apologize to each other right now."

"Sorry," Zoey said first.

"Me too," Ellie replied.

If only all their squabbles were that easily resolved. "I don't want to hear it again, okay?"

"Okay," Zoey agreed.

Ellie went back to the original question. "Mom?"

Abbey lightened up, remembering the fun of summer sleepovers. "As long as it's okay with their parents, they can spend the night. Why don't you guys come inside and we'll call them?"

"In a few minutes?" Zoey gave her a puppy-dog plea this time. "We're dunking for pennies!"

"Okay, ten more minutes, but after that I want you all in the house." Abbey addressed Mrs. Wilburforce next. "Have they had dinner?"

"Yes Ma'am, two hours ago. I kept a pot of chicken stew warm for you, Mr. Bartlet, and Elizabeth." Mrs. Wilburforce took a step toward the door. "I could come in and..."

"That's okay, I'll get it," Abbey assured her. "Would you like to join us?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I ate with the girls."

The older woman suggested staying to get Zoey and Cindy out of the pool and into dry clothes before leaving for the night. A blessing of an offer, Abbey thought. She was tired and cranky and the last thing she wanted to do was wrestle Zoey out of the water. She thanked their housekeeper and then disappeared into the house.

Barely a minute later, Jed came barreling around the corner toward the kitchen. Like her, he was also tired and cranky. He'd just gotten home and was looking for his wife, not expecting to run into her the way he did. Green eyes met blue and they allowed for a second of awkwardness to pass.

"Hi," he said when it did.

"Hello."

"I don't appreciate being hung up on."

"I don't appreciate being yelled at," she returned. "Where's Liz?"

"She stayed late at the office. And don't change the subject." He stripped off his jacket and flung it over a chair.

"What's the subject? Me trying to keep you safe?"

"You should have told me, Abbey."

Abbey took a beat and then reluctantly acknowledged his point. "You're right."

"This guy could have caused all kinds of trouble..." It sank in, what she'd said. He trailed off and replied the only way he could, "What?"

"I said you're right. I should have told you I sent someone to the plant."

"That's it?"

"What else?"

"You're not going to argue? You're not going to tell me that I was a jackass about the whole thing?" She was being too nonchalant about it. It wasn't like Abbey not to stand her ground.

"No, I'm going to tell you that you're right." She continued, "But you were a jackass about it."

He examined her from an angle, eyes narrow as slits. "What are you doing? Are you softening me up so that you can hammer me later?"

"That sounds a little kinky."

"Abigail."

"Jed, I'm telling you that I was wrong. I'm big enough to admit it. Why is that so shocking?"

"Because it's never happened before."

"Yes it has."

"Not like this."

"Well, it's happening now." She reached into the cupboard to grab two bowls for dinner.

"You went behind my back," he prodded on anyway. "I thought you weren't going to do that again after that argument we had when you asked my staff to include you on the trip."

"I said I wouldn't go to your staff anymore. And I didn't. I did this on my own."

"You're giving me wordplay?"

"You like wordplay." She grinned playfully.

"I think you should know it's not impossible to be mad at you when you get like this."

"No?"

"No," he lied. He had barged into the house ready for a fight, but he had a tough time summoning his anger now that she wasn't fighting back.

"In that case, why don't you reprimand me and I'll just stand here quietly?"

"Do I look like I'm having a good time?"

"Not yet, but that's just because your tie's too tight."

"My tie is not too tight!" He loosened his tie. "I had a speech worked out in my head about how wrong you were. You ruined the whole thing."

"Shame on me for being so reasonable!" She feigned her outrage.

"Yeah."

"How was the tour?"

He wasn't ready to talk about that just yet. "You know, the least you could have done was told me before you hung up on me that you regretted hiring the guy. I could have gotten over it hours ago."

"I don't regret hiring Greg."

"You just said..."

"I said I regret not telling you that I hired him. I never said I regret hiring him."

"Again with the wordplay. Am I going to need a decoder for this conversation?"

"Why would I regret hiring a man to protect you?"

"Because I didn't need protection."

She pushed the bowls aside. "Some maniac is threatening your life, Jed!"

Jed saw the spirited look in her eyes dissolve into a mix of fear and anger. That always happened when they discussed his death threat, but this time, it was so sudden that it jarred him. It was bothering Abbey more than she let on and she wasn't as good as she thought she was at hiding that from him.

"WAS threatening," he corrected her. "They found him."

"They found him?" Abbey lit up at the news. "Who is he?"

"Some guy in Laconia. He's a radical opponent of nuclear power. They traced the letter he'd sent the governor back to his residence and his typewriter, where they found a copy of the letter he sent me. They arrested him about an hour ago."

"You mean...it's over?"

Jed nodded. "He's behind bars, where he'll remain for a very long time."

"And there's no one else? He didn't have an accomplice?"

"No. It was just him and he's been dealt with. There's paperwork, of course. A hearing probably. But he was caught red-handed. He's not getting away with it."

She let out several small breaths with the relief that washed over her. Thrilled beyond measure, she threw her arms around him. "Jed, that's great!"

"I thought you'd like that."

"There are no other threats, right?"

"No. This was the one and only."

"And it's over, finally?"

"Looks that way."

"Why didn't say so the second you came home? You put me through all this just to tell me in the end that it's over?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because you shouldn't have hired that guy," he said with a good-natured nudge as he tightened his grip around her.

"Jackass," she muttered, pulling out of the embrace just enough to wipe away the tears of joy that trailed down her cheeks.

Jed kept one arm around her waist as he reached for a tissue on the counter. He began to dab it against her moist lashes, then paused to look at her. She sparkled. In ten seconds flat, she went from stressed and troubled to happy and cheery. It was as if he had literally lifted the burden off her shoulders. That's how he justified telling her. It's why he didn't feel a single pang of guilt when he explained that they caught the man who threatened him - even though it wasn't true.

TBC