J. checked his mail on his laptop before bringing up the online webmail service he used for only one purpose. Every time he checked it, he hoped against hope that there would be something there, an email to tell him what was happening with his friend, Vincent Keller. It had been months since they'd said their farewells in Minneapolis, even more since any contact had been made. If Muirfield were still keeping tabs on him and Tess Vargas, they must be bored out of their skulls by now, there being nothing and no contact in all the time since then. Tess still came around when she was able, the two of them reminiscing and coming up with all sorts of possibilities of where Catherine and Vincent could be. Their favourite was imagining the pair safe and happy with their child some place warm and sunny, far away but still somewhere accessible. One day, they told each other, we'll get a postcard, or an email inviting us to go visit and we'll find them living the good life, safe from Muirfield and any other danger. It was a lovely fantasy, but they knew it for what it was – make-believe. While Muirfield existed and Vincent was alive, they would always be pursued, only death would make the persecution cease. And that was not an option.

J.T brought up the page and glanced at it, expecting it to be empty as usual. He almost clicked away when he saw the number next to the header for the inbox. Something was waiting there for him. He almost dreaded clicking the link, wondering if maybe this was the email to tell him Vincent was dead, or capture again, or worse they were all dead or captured, his mind refusing to be sensible as he moved the mouse to the button and clicked.

There was no header, as he expected, but there was an attachment. Before opening it he checked the address and frowned, it was from a source he didn't recognise, but otherwise the protocol was right. Double clicking the message he opened it. There was no text just an image.

Tess Vargas arrived in record time, her hand shaking so much she could hardly fit the key in the door, flinging it open at last and staggering inside.

"J.T.?"

"Here..."

She dropped the keys on the kitchen counter and walked rapidly to Catherine's old bedroom. All her friends personal items had been packed away and stored. The room was now J.T's office and he currently sat at the desk with his lap top open. He waved her over and Tess quickly skirted the desk to lean over his shoulder and stare at the image now on display. Tears sprung to her eyes immediately and she pressed a hand to her mouth to capture the sob that rose in her throat.

"Oh, my God." Tess breathed.

Taking up the full screen of the lap top was a photo of Catherine, looking directly at the camera and in her arms a new born baby, a dark tuft of hair escaping the pink knitted hat on its head. The photo had been posed with great care to show nothing of any use to anyone trying to trace where it had been taken. Catherine appeared to glow with the sun behind her, gilding her dark hair but not eclipsing the glow of motherhood that infused the image.

"She looks like a Madonna," Tess sobbed, pressing her fingers to the image as if she could somehow touch her friend and her precious baby.

J.T serepticiously swiped a tear from his own eye and indicated the photo. "She's found a safe haven, at least. I don't recognise the sender, and if Catherine follows protocol that will be the one and only time she'll use it before deleting it."

Tess nudged him. "Who gives a flying fuck about protocol, Cat has a baby girl...I wish I knew what name they chose for her."

"Guess we'll never know. She took a helluva risk just getting this much to us. There's nothing to indicate if Vincent is with her..." J.T peered closer but just as soon sat back in his chair. "It is a cute baby, but I suppose when you consider her parents she wasn't likely to be an ugly duckling."

"J.T!" Tess swatted him. "Cat and Vincent have a baby...oh, my God, how wonderful is that."

J.T couldn't resist and rolled his eyes. "That is the usual outcome when you're pregnant!"

Tess laughed. "I need a drink, want one?"

Karen nervously wiped her hands on her jeans before putting them back on the steering wheel. There was a queue of cars up ahead and the state police manning a check point, but she knew it had nothing to do with the police really. It was Muirfield, and somehow she had to make it through without them finding Vincent. She turned on the radio and forced herself to relax, she had her story well rehearsed, and all it needed was a bit of luck and a good performance. Reaching down she grabbed the can of Coke and took a sip to steady herself. The cars inched forward and she along with them. Her sunglasses helped to give her a measure of composure but it was a near thing when the officer waved her over to the side and she lowered her window.

"What's all the fuss about, Officer?"

"We looking for an escaped convict, been seen in these parts as recently as yesterday. Can I ask you business?"

"Going to see my daughter, Caroline, over in Twin Falls."

"Can I see your licence and registration, ma'am."

Karen handed them over, restraining herself from tapping the steering wheel impatiently.

"I'll just be a moment, ma'am. Please remain in your car." The officer instructed before taking her identification away. Karen sat and waited, the music on the radio a background buzz.

"Going out of town, Mrs. Luscombe?" A voice asked from behind her. Karen jumped.

"Shit, what the hell are you doing creeping up on a person?" she turned to see a man in black standing beside her car. Instantly she broke out in goosebumps, but kept her aplomb. "I wasn't aware there was a curfew?"

"I'm sure the officer told you we're looking for a very dangerous felon. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

"Why on Earth should I know anything?" Karen retorted, nettled by the man. She checked her rear-view mirror and saw another agent looking at the back of her hatchback.

"No reason at all. Would you care to open the back of your car, Mrs. Luscombe?"

"I would care, what reason do you have to search my car?" Karen asked, feeling panic creep up on her, her legs starting to shake. "Don't you have to have a search warrant?"

"Open the back of your car, Mrs. Luscombe. It won't take a moment."

Karen tried to stare the man down, but gave in and pulled the latch to release the rear door. The agent hovering at the back pulled open the hatch and stared at the contents packed neatly against the back seat.

"Is there a reason you have all this stuff packed away here?" The agent at the back asked.

"Not that it's any of you business, it's my daughter's stuff she left at my place, I'm finally decided to clear it out and take it to her. Is that a crime, these days?" Her voice sounded shrill to her ears and she tried to damp down her fear. The police officer was returning with her paperwork and she hoped he'd found nothing further to detain her. The agents had shut the back of her car and moved away.

"Thank you, ma'am, everything is in order." He handed her licence and registration back to her with a smile.

Karen forced herself to smile back. "Hope you have better luck finding whoever you're after."

"I'm sure we will, ma'am. Have a good trip."

Karen eased the car out of the queue and followed the directing officer back out onto the highway. For another mile she gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white, so tense her teeth were gritted. A quick glance in the mirror showed her the road block was now out of sight and she pulled over. She rested her head on the steering wheel for a moment then took another gulp of her now lukewarm Coke to steady herself. She lowered the can and almost died of fright.

"Vincent! Oh, my God you scared the shit out of me. Get in!"

Once her passenger was aboard she pulled back onto the highway and pushed her foot down on the accelerator hard. The little car gamely leapt forward, carrying them both out of Arco and temporarily beyond the reach of Muirfield.

Catherine stared out of the apartment window and idly twisted the wedding ring on her finger around and around. It was still early, the baby sleeping after her morning feed and Marita wasn't due for another hour or so. The sun was rising unfettered by clouds, washing the buildings with bright gilding and reflecting off the myriad windows like sequins. She felt restless, her thoughts all on Vincent and where he was. For some unfathomable reason she knew he was close, but if pressed she'd have no way of explaining how. There had been numerous incidents when she had simply known he was near to her, the incident at the wedding a classic case in point. She had been facing in the opposite direction to the doors onto the patio, but that hadn't stopped her sensing his presence, the feeling like being enveloped in a velvet cloak, warm and soft. It had happened again and again, this strange pull of attraction, a sixth sense of when he was near, the knowing now accepted as part of the whole, as part of their thing. She couldn't ask anyone else if this was normal between lovers, it seemed such a silly thing to bring up. Maybe it was unique to them, a side effect of Vincent's unique dna, maybe it was something he'd passed on to her. Catherine shook her head, that didn't wash because they weren't lovers before that night. Smiling to herself she made a mental note to ask Vincent about that particular phenomenon when she saw him next.

Turning away from the window she went to fix herself breakfast, but the sensation stayed with her, a tickle at the edge of her consciousness, like an elusive memory that you know is in your head but you can't quite grasp it and bring it into focus. It both elated and depressed her. It confirmed for her that he was alive, but also brought home to her the impossibility of him finding her. Portland was no backwater hick town with a population of a couple of thousand, the city sprawled in all directions and had over two million residents. Even if he hit on the right city, it was a needle in a haystack search to find her. And if he did find her, then what? Did they stay here or move on? Was that going to be their normal? To find a place, stay a little while until Muirfield found them then escape and find another hiding place? Possibly workable with only the two of them, but they were now three and being on the run was not an option for her and Belle.

For the first time she faced the real possibility of making the hardest decision in her adult life. Could she give up Vincent, send away the love of her life and the father of her child, for the sake of a normal, safe existence for herself and Bella?

The worst part was, she knew that Vincent would agree to do that, he would go, leave them because he loved her and loved their child and would rather rip out his own heart than put them in danger. The pain was like a hand in her chest, squeezing her heart into dust.

Catherine stood, her breakfast abandoned, and blindly walked to the window again. The sun was rising in the sky and bathing everything in a golden light but she saw none of it, her eyes awash with unheeded tears. Slowly she turned the ring on her finger around and around.