After a few miles, when her heart was no longer pounding quite so hard, Grace belatedly remembered her manners. Sophie had worked hard that night; the least Grace could do was take a turn driving. But when she offered, Sophie laughed. "I'm a lot more used to staying up all night than you are," she told Grace merrily. "If you don't mind, I think I'll feel safer driving myself. You sleep." Grace thought sleep was impossible, but she no longer had the energy to stay angry, and the steady sound of the car engine soon lulled her. It seemed like only a few moments before they were back in Seattle, pulling up in front of Grace's building. In a daze Grace climbed the stairs, unlocked the door, flopped on her bed, and immediately went back to sleep.
The next thing she knew, it was afternoon, sunlight streamed in the window, and she realized with alarm that she had to hurry, that she needed to speak to Logan and she was very, very late. She rushed out of the apartment without changing her clothes, catching the familiar crosstown bus, getting off at her usual stop, turning the corner to the welcome sight of his building. She rode the elevator to his floor with happy anticipation, rang the bell, and smiled with pleasure as he opened the door. Oh, it had been too long! She had something important to tell him, but somehow she couldn't get him to pay attention to what she was saying. There were a lot of people in the apartment for some reason. How strange to see a crowd in that place, which had always been so still and silent, almost lonely. At one point Grace realized that everyone else was beautifully dressed, and there she was in the dirty jeans she'd been wearing all night, though no one seemed to care. Then people began to gather in front of her, Logan was at her side, and a man she had never seen before raised a crystal wineglass in a toast. "My friends," he said, smiling, "someone once said that to love is to receive a glimpse of heaven. Here's to a little piece of heaven on earth." There were more smiles and applause and Grace felt her heart fill with pleasure as she and Logan took each other's hands. What had she meant to tell him? It didn't matter any more. They were together, side by side. The man who had given the toast was across the room now, still smiling at her. Then he stepped aside, and behind him Grace saw a table. A shaft of sunlight illuminated plates of food and crystal glasses that sparked with rainbows, and oddly, a carton of milk. A carton of milk? Something about it bothered Grace. She began to walk towards it, realizing that she must have let go of Logan's hand. There was something wrong about that carton. She had to find out. Suddenly the sunlight went out, leaving Grace in darkness. Carefully she turned her head, and felt the roughness of her sweater under her cheek. Oh, she realized, I've been dreaming. Where the heck am I?
She was at home. It was afternoon, but the shade was down, darkening the room. Disoriented, Grace stood up, still half-believing that she had just let go of Logan's hand, still feeling the pleasure of his presence. She was thirsty. Clumsily she moved over to the refrigerator, opened it, sighed when she saw that it was nearly empty. As she stepped back to close the door, the light fell on the empty milk carton on her table, and in an instant Grace remembered everything. Oh no. Max. That was what she had tried to tell Logan. That Max was alive. The warm, sweet remnants of the dream evaporated instantly and Grace slid to the floor. At that moment she would have given just about anything to wipe the last twenty-four hours out of her memory forever. Instead she sat on her floor facing one of the hardest decisions she had ever had to make.
After a little while she drank some water from the faucet, found an old packet of stale crackers Max had somehow overlooked, and ate a few. Then, unable to bear the dark silent apartment a moment longer, she quietly slipped out into the raw cold afternoon. If anyone cared enough about what she was doing to follow her, there was no sign of it. She was nearly alone.
She had not been to the waterfront since the last time she had taken Logan there, but now she craved the solitude and the smell of the salt water. The fence was still loose, and the place was still deserted. She walked the old promenade for a long time, and then when she was too tired to walk any more, sat down with her back against the fence.
There was no doubt in her mind that Logan would want to know the truth. In spite of her own feelings she had to smile, imagining the joy and amazement on his face if she told him. She would love to give him that pleasure. What did it matter now? Their relationship was effectively over anyway. Max was a brilliant strategist. She had Grace either way. Tell him, and end it on the spot, or don't tell him, and live with a ticking bomb.
Of those two unpleasant choices, Grace preferred the first. She had no desire to deceive Logan, even passively. But her own eagerness to hurry home, to pick up the phone, to just get the whole thing over with -- well, it worried her. She didn't want to let her feelings, good or bad, lead her into doing even more harm than Max's enemies had already caused.
What were Max's real intentions? Did she really mean it when she said that she might never come back? Did she truly believe that Logan would be better off without her? If she did, and if she sincerely meant never to be found, then telling Logan would be cruel. He would do anything to find her, right up until the day he died if necessary. And knowing Max, that's what it would take.
Even more disturbing than the thought of Logan spending a lifetime searching and wondering was the fear that in his quest for Max, he would unintentionally put her in even greater danger. That in becoming one of the pursuers, he would also become one of the pursued. Anyone smart enough to understand how relentlessly his love for Max would drive him could ride along in his wake, allowing him to lead the way to her. Grace remembered the long scar on Max's stomach clearly. Max, Logan, Max's sister, that newborn baby ... she wanted to protect them, not expose them to greater danger.
Still, in keeping Max a secret from her enemies, she was also keeping Max a secret from her friends. Max and Jace were alone. Their enemies were powerful. To withhold any help might mean the difference between freedom and imprisonment, or even life and death.
In the end, it all came back to that single question Grace had asked the night before: "I want to know why you came to me tonight." She was not satisfied with the answer Max had given her. An elite soldier like Max simply didn't take the unnecessary risk of revealing her identity to someone who had every reason to betray her ... unless that soldier, or some part of her, had ulterior motives. In some way, Grace believed, Max had wanted the truth available to Logan, no matter what kind of crap she'd talked about what was best for him or Grace taking care of him. And if there was a chance that Logan could help Max fight -- well, Grace held that chance in her hands.
At last, feeling as cold as she had been on the mountain in the night, Grace rose from her corner and went home. She had decided. She was going to make that call.
To her annoyance, she could hear her telephone ringing as she tried to unlock her door with stiff fingers. By the time she got inside, it had stopped. She was in the bathroom washing some of the night's grime from her face and hands when it began to ring again. Soapy and wet, she grabbed the receiver, expecting the hospital. When she heard Logan's voice, she was so startled she dropped the phone. "Sorry," she apologized over her pounding heart. It was like a message, she thought. Just in case she was tempted by second thoughts.
Logan's voice reminded her of the night of the break-in at her apartment -- or rather, the night Max had broken in, she reminded herself grimly. He was courteous, but all business. "Something has come up," he told her. "Say no if you want to, but I'm with someone who would like to meet you. If I send a ride for you, think you could join us?" That put Grace on her guard immediately. Since when had Logan started trying to sound like a guy rounding up his friends for a beer at the corner bar? Was the phone line tapped or something? It must be important. She said yes and hurried downstairs, hoping she hadn't misunderstood "what send a ride" meant.
She hadn't. In just a few minutes Bling pulled up. The welcome sight of him and his warm hug filled Grace's eyes with tears, which he tactfully pretended not to notice. Both of them were silent on the ride across town. Whatever this was, it was clearly not something to discuss casually in the car.
After a while Grace saw that they had circled through town and headed back out near the waterfront, in an old industrial section of the city that was now mostly abandoned warehouses and rotting piers. Bling pulled up in front of the cargo entrance of one building, looked around cautiously, then said, "Just go on in there, straight through. You'll see him."
"Aren't you coming?" Grace asked with a sinking heart. She didn't want to do this alone.
"I'm on watch out here. You go on."
On watch. Yeah, she knew all about that now. Reluctantly she left the car, moving uneasily through the dark warehouse toward a dim pool of light at the rear. As she came closer she saw Logan, dressed in black, standing next to a stack of old crates. To his left stood an older man, also dressed in black, with blond hair. They turned at the sound of her footsteps.
Logan wasted not a second. "Grace. This is Donald Lydecker." He glanced at the blond man. "I believe you know Grace Guerin. Or know of her."
"Hello," Grace said. She was amazed at the calm sound of her own voice, because inside she was near panic. The unfamiliar sight of Logan standing and the name Lydecker made her wonder if she was dreaming again. She felt like the word Max was written all over her for them to see. Her knees began to shake.
"Hello," Lydecker said briskly. "I'll get right to the point. I'm looking for an X5 and I believe you can help me."
Grace went cold. He knows where I was last night, she thought. Well, I'm not going to make this easy for him. Not until I understand this a little better. She said nothing.
"Coloner Lydecker has had us ... under observation for about two months now," Logan said. Was it her imagination, or were his eyes warning her? I can keep my mouth shut, she thought. Max is a good teacher. And so are you.
Lydecker said, "I have reason to believe that the woman you would call Jace is in or near Seattle. Last night my people were on her trail, but we lost her." Relief swept over Grace. He didn't know!
"What does this have to do with me?" she asked, trying to match Logan's noncomittal tone.
"My men found two women last night who said they were nurses. Said they'd been kidnapped. You work at the city's major hospital. Have you heard anything about this?"
"I'm sorry, I had a day off today," Grace said. "I don't talk to work people on my day off." She tried to look helpful. "I'm back at work tomorrow" -- with a pointed look at her watch -- "I'll be glad to ask around." Why not? she thought. I already know the answer.
"I'd appreciate it," Lydecker replied. A sound from the front of the warehouse made them all turn, alert, to see Bling beckoning to Logan. "Speak to you for a moment?" he said quietly. Logan said, "Excuse me," to Grace and Lydecker, then walked away. The sight unsettled Grace. It wasn't the Logan she knew. How selfish was that, feeling uncomfortable at the sight of him on his feet, just because it was strange to her? Yet it reminded her that he lived whole other lives she knew nothing about, and strengthened her belief that the end of their relationship had been inevitable.
She looked up to see Lydecker watching her. He reminded her of Max -- intense, single-minded, smart, not easy to evade or deceive. To her surprise he said, "So you are a hospital chaplain."
"Yes," she answered cautiously.
"Good for you. I don't believe in God myself."
"You don't seem to mind playing him," Grace shot back without thinking. She regretted it the moment she saw his eyebrows go up in exaggerated surprise. "That sounds like something Max would say."
"I wouldn't know."
"Wouldn't you? Never mind. May I ask where you were ordained?"
"I'm not ordained."
"No? Why not?"
What is it with these people? Grace thought. They had an uncanny ability to zero right in on touchy personal subjects. "I'm old enough to remember the separation of church and state," she replied. "I'm not interested in working for the military government."
"Fair enough," he answered. He seemed to have lost interest in the subject. There was a pause. Somehow Grace didn't think he was searching for a lighter conversational topic; this was strategic. Sure enough, he went on, "My men reported that there were actually two women on the run last night. I haven't yet shared that information with anyone but you."
"Really."
He began to pace. "There's something you're not telling him, isn't there?"
Grace shrugged. "We just split up. There are a lot of things I'm not telling him."
"I think you're hiding something," he said, watching her closely.
"So are you. Why haven't you told him about the other woman?"
He stopped, folded his arms. "Until two weeks ago I had a contact inside what's left of Manticore. Young man named Victor. The father of Jace's child. It was strictly quid pro quo. He was desperate for news of his little family, I needed to keep an eye on some ... former colleagues. The last thing I heard from him was a rumor of a disturbance and an escape of a very important prisoner. Based on certain details, I have reason to believe that prisoner may have been Max."
"Max is dead."
"Max was dead, or as good as dead, the last time I saw her. But we left her there. Our pursuers were at our heels. It's not beyond the capabilities of Manticore to have saved her, if they acted quickly enough."
"Did you tell Logan that?"
"Yes I did. I belive I have his attention now."
I bet, Grace thought. "So you want him to help you find her?"
"Yes. The question is, do you? Is that what you want?"
Grace didn't answer. What was this about? If he suspected her of knowing where Max was, why didn't he just come out and say so? She knew he had worked with Max and her siblings the night of the Manticore raid, but that didn't account for the last seven months. In his circumstances, who knew what kind of bargains he had been forced to make in order to survive? There was no way she would trust him without knowing more.
"There's one more thing you may be interested to know. My men described two nurses, one a black woman and the other a white woman, about thirty, light brown hair. Funny, isn't it? That could be you, couldn't it?"
Before she could reply Logan returned, accompanied by a tall young man whom Grace recognized immediately as the person who had followed her home on the bus weeks earlier. Lydecker changed the subject as smoothly as if they had been discussing nothing more consequential than the weather. "This is Krit, one of Max's brothers. He's been assisting me."
"He's been following me," Grace said.
"Very observant of you. I should probably also tell you that he searched your apartment as well."
"Sorry," Krit said to her, then turned to Lydecker. "Can we talk? Syl reported in. It's important.
"One moment," Lydecker said. He turned to Grace and Logan. "I have a proposition for the two of you. Your little breakup has probably attracted the attention of Manticore. If my information is correct, they'll be looking for Max to return here any time now that her options have opened back up again. We need to convince them that there's nothing to see here. Get them to back off. As it stands right now, Max and Jace can't talk to us and we can't talk to them. They're at risk. We're all at risk. Even tonight is a risk."
After a moment Logan said calmly, "So what's your proposition? How do we get them to back off?"
Lydecker watched them. "Reunite. Give no sign that Max is anything to the two of you but dead." When no one answered, he went on: "Sooner or later Manticore will become bored. That will give my team an opportunity to divert their attention elsewhere. We'll continue our search, of course. But our goal is to make it safe for Max and Jace to come in from hiding."
Logan said, "Could you excuse us for a few moments?"
"Certainly." He turned to Krit and the low sound of their voices faded as they moved away from the light into a far corner of the warehouse, leaving Logan and Grace alone.
Grace broke the silence. "How long has he been around?"
"He contacted me a few weeks ago. An informant got word to him that Jace was headed back north. Wanted me to look for her."
"Not to mention his other news." She looked up at Logan -- looked up at him, what an odd feeling -- to measure his reaction.
He met her eyes steadily. "Right. That too."
Grace began to pace as Lydecker had done. "How long has he been watching us?"
"I don't know. I did ask him to leave you alone. Told him you were now a private citizen."
"Thanks," Grace said. "Do you have any idea what he's been doing since the raid?"
"No."
"Do you trust him?"
"Not entirely, no."
"Then why should we agree to do this?"
"Syl and Krit are working with him. That counts for something. And I think he knows more than he's telling. If we play along, we buy some time."
"Unless he screws you first."
"I'll take that chance. It's all the hope I've got." She must have looked hurt, because he quickly added, "Of finding out the truth, I mean."
Footsteps sounded from the front of the warehouse and Lydecker approached them. "My apologies for the urgency, but I must go now. I'm afraid I'll need your answer immediately." Like Max, he seemed to assume that he had the unquestioned right to take charge under any and all circumstances. That irritated Grace. But she had made up her mind already. Her instincts had been correct. Already Logan's love for Max was clouding his judgment, tempting him to trust Lydecker too quickly. They had no way to know what Lydecker's true purposes might be, or his real reasons for wanting to find Max.
But Logan was right that playing along with Lydecker would buy some time, Grace thought, more right than he knew. She would agree to this. Later, if Lydecker proved trustworthy, she could tell the whole truth. For now, however, this was enough. Hoping she wasn't about to make a colossal mistake, she turned to Logan. "I'm game if you are."
Logan turned to Lydecker. "Consider it done."
Lydecker nodded in satisfaction. "Good night. I will be in touch when there is news." He turned on his heel and walked into the darkness. When he was gone Logan said, "I have the car. I'll drive you home."
In the car it was just the two of them and an awkward silence. At first Grace was too tired to care, but after a while she realized that they would have to come to some kind of understanding, or it was going to be a very long mission. When they were stopped at a long checkpoint traffic jam, she began:
"So --"
And at the same moment Logan glanced over at her and said, "So --"
They laughed. But then Logan said, "Grace, I'm having second thoughts."
She was surprised. "Why? I thought you were willing to trust him."
"It's not that."
"What is it?"
"Look, I have no right --"
Oh no, Grace thought, here we go with the guilt thing. "-- to ask me to get involved," she went on.
He frowned. "I mean, after everything -- "
"--you've put me through in the last few months," she finished for him.
He looked hurt. "Well ... yes."
She smiled. "Logan -- don't start apologizing to me again. You know what it did to me the last time." She couldn't get over herself, calm and smiling on the outside yet completely freaking out on the inside. What a good little soldier. It almost made her wish Max could see her now. "I'm doing this strictly on a volunteer basis. So take the weight of the world off your shoulders for a couple of days, okay?" Let that be my job for a little while, she thought. She wondered whether Max and Jace had crossed into Canada yet. And how little Max was doing.
Logan glanced around at the traffic, tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. "It's gonna take forever to get you back across town. Should we start this tonight? Would you stay at my place?"
"Only if I get the couch."
"We'll have to figure out something better than that --"
"Don't worry about it tonight. Your couch is a lot more comfortable than my old bed."
Logan made a u-turn out of the checkpoint line and headed down a side street, towards his sector of town. When they stopped at the next light he said, "You know what, Grace?"
"What?"
"Every day I wonder how I was lucky enough to meet two such great women and unlucky to end up with neither of them."
In spite of everything, Grace laughed. "Isn't that what we're trying to prevent?"
He smiled. After that it wasn't nearly as hard to go back to his apartment as she had thought it would be. But later that night, when she was fairly sure he was asleep, she cried quietly for a long time.