Chapter 9: Safe House

Leland House

Wednesday, 9 June

10 p.m.

The afternoon had been a blur of activity; getting her things over to Myles' house and getting her settled in the guest room, SOG setting up in several locations around outside, Bobby and Jack giving her so much instruction that her head was still spinning. After five hours of it, Elizabeth had reached her limit, and at 8 o'clock retreated to the guest room with a cup of tea.

Now, two hours later, the tea was untouched and ice-cold, and all she seemed to have energy for was staring out the window from the overstuffed armchair that was her favorite in the whole house. Even the star-filled sky, clearly visible since she hadn't bothered to turn on a light, was insufficient to shake the dread that had settled over her.

Evan Graham, she thought, her chest tightening for what seemed the millionth time today– it was beginning to physically hurt. I can't believe I still can't escape him, after all this time… I was so sure I had…

A tap on the door brought her out of her thoughts. "Come in," she sighed, expecting more official instructions. She needed time to process, and it apparently wasn't going to happen tonight.

"Hey," a soft voice said. Myles stepped into the room, flipping on the small reading lamp behind her. He sat down across from her, on the bed, and took her hand. "You ok?"

She sighed. "That depends. Is it still Grand Central Station down there?"

He laughed. "I'm sorry about that, but it is necessary. The FBI is known for their thoroughness, after all."

"I can respect that," she replied with a faint smile, "when I'm not at the heart of it."

"Hey, by the way, I have something for you." He pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

"What's this for?"

"Open it."

She did as he asked, and found a beautiful silver pin. "Myles, this is gorgeous."

"I'm glad you like it," he replied. "Because I don't want you going anywhere unless you're wearing it." At her surprised expression, he explained. "There's a tracking device in it. On the outside chance that… it'll just be easier to know where you are all the time." He silently cursed himself for the poor choice of words as her eyes widened.

"All right," was all she said, but he could hear the strain in her voice.

He pulled her over to sit next to him and put his arms around her. "Hey, it's going to be all right. Things are a lot quieter downstairs right now, and I thought I'd come see if you were hungry."

Elizabeth sighed. "Not really, but I suspect that's not the answer you're looking for. If you have something already planned, I'll try. Okay?"

"That's all I can ask," he said with a smile, kissing her cheek. "Then we can talk later if you want, give you a chance to process all this."

Dark eyebrows went up. "You're psychic now?"

"No," he said softly. "I just know you too well, and I don't want you checking out on me again like earlier. I was afraid I was losing you."

"I'm still here," she whispered in reply. "A little shaky still, but I'm here. I guess this pretty much messes up Sunday night plans with your folks, huh?"

An ironic laugh escaped him. "Probably, but I'm not going to tell Dad anything until we know for sure. They could still catch this guy before Sunday. It's only Wednesday; there's time still. Besides," he said, stroking her cheek, "you're not getting out of a tango that easily."

Her laugh was genuine, even as shaky as it was. "I'm telling you, it would be safer if Graham had me in his clutches than for you to have me as a tango partner."

Her attempt at a joke didn't work. His eyes were grave as he answered. "Elizabeth, Graham isn't going to get anywhere near you. We're just not going to let it happen. They're going to have an agent in your office, SOG will be watching outside, someone will escort you to work and back hom— uh, to my place, and SOG is set up outside here as well…there's no way he's going to get near you."

"Myles." She was serious as well now. "Please don't make promises you have no control over. You can't guarantee that any more than the rest of the team can. Until he's caught, there's a possibility. Instead of making promises, help me figure out what to do if by some chance all those precautions fail."

-!-

-&-

-!-

-&-

Friday, June 11

5 p.m.

She'd tried… for two days she'd really tried; she understood why things had to be this way, and part of her was grateful. But she was independent, had been for many years, and the constant surveillance was making her crazy.

It didn't help that all the precautions also served as an inescapable reminder that Graham was out there, watching her as well, waiting for a perfect opportunity to grab her and crawl into her head again, along with whatever else he had planned. It wouldn't be pretty— she knew that, and the constant fear had settled in a throbbing band around her head.

Sighing, she got up from the stool at the kitchen counter and walked toward the bathroom, praying Myles had something extra-strength for her headache.

"You okay, Liz?" Bobby's voice echoed from the study.

Biting back the urge to tell him to mind his own business (It's not his fault, she told herself.), she replied, "I'm fine, just going to get something for this headache."

She walked down the hall and opened a door...

...walked in to find a man in his mid-twenties sitting at the table, his hands cuffed in front of him. She studied him for a moment, trying to get an initial "feel" for him— medium height, dark hair, square jaw...most women would be swooning over him. But there was an air about him of... menace.

She sat down across from him. "Evan Graham? I'm Elizabeth Dillingham. I'll be conducting your psychological profile for your fitness interview."

He looked up at her, and she shivered involuntarily. His eyes were bright blue, but they were ice— there was a cold glint in them that belied the perfect smile. He searched her face for a minute, then his eyes drifted down over her as far as the table would allow. "How fortunate for me," he said, and there was nothing flirtatious in his voice— it was almost gleeful, although how she couldn't quite place.

"So why don't you tell me—"

He interrupted her. "I'm surprised they let you in here. Didn't they tell you what I've done?"

Elizabeth looked at him evenly. "I am aware of the charges against you, Mr. Graham."

Graham leaned closer to her across the table, his voice lowering until it was almost a caress. "But they didn't tell you what I did to her, did they? They didn't tell you how she screamed when I broke the lamp across her back, the glass ripping into her flesh..." Blue eyes glittered at her as she stared, unable to break his gaze. "Didn't tell you how she begged me to kill her... but that would have been injustice. She deserved every ounce of pain I gave her, and infinitely more..."

That statement gave her something to grasp onto, and she pulled herself out of his gaze. "Why, Mr. Graham?" she said, trying to get her equilibrium back. "Why did she deserve it?"

His eyes glittered still, and his smile broadened. "Because she existed," he whispered. "How does that answer make you feel, Miss Dillingham? Or is it Mrs.? Is there some man in your life? Or are you one of those independent types who thinks they don't need a man? That was Sarah; she thought she could survive without me, without my control in her life. But she found out differently..."

"Liz?" Bobby's voice reached her from a long tunnel. "You okay in there?"

Elizabeth gasped, coming out of the memory shaking like a leaf. "Uh, I'm fine, Bobby," she answered, hoping her voice wasn't shaking as well. "I'll be right out." She opened the medicine cabinet and found what she was looking for. She poured two tablets into her hand, then came out of the bathroom.

The Aussie watched her for a minute, concern darkening his features, especially when she found she couldn't meet his blue eyes. "You sure you're okay?"

She forced herself to look up at him. "I'm fine," she said, a little more forcefully than she'd intended. "I just need some water now."

Bobby backed off. He knew her patience was nearing its limit, even as he knew something wasn't okay. "All right. I'll be in the study if you need me." He walked away.

Elizabeth came back out to the kitchen, got a bottle of water from the refrigerator, then leaned against the counter, eyes closed. I have to get away from this, from Graham, just for a few minutes. Or I'm going to lose my mind. But where... how?

-!-

-&-

-!-

-&-

5:30 p.m.

Myles pulled up outside his house, nodding discreetly to the SOG van as he got out of the car and headed inside. It was quiet after a long day of trying to work on anything he could to keep from listening to the brainstorming continuing in the Bullpen. He'd finally found a project that was serving that purpose when Bobby left to pick up Elizabeth at her office, so he decided to finish it up before going home.

He expected to find Elizabeth reading in the living room or puttering around in the kitchen. When she was in neither of those places, he went up to the guest room and tapped on the door. "Elizabeth?"

There was no answer. He opened the door, thinking she might have fallen asleep. The room was empty. Myles headed back downstairs.

"Bobby?"

The Aussie's head poked out from the study. "Yeah, mate?"

"Where's Elizabeth? You finally talk her into playing your unique version of 'Scrabble'?"

Bobby shook his head. "Nope. I know she had a headache earlier. I thought she'd gone upstairs to lie down."

"She's not there." A tense note was starting to creep into Myles' voice.

"Okay," Bobby said, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Before you get to DEFCON 3, let's check everywhere. Maybe she got a sudden urge to clean out your garage or something— my mom used to go on sprees like that when she was worked up about something."

The quip worked, and Myles relaxed slightly. "For your information," he replied dryly, "unlike yourself, I choose to put things away when I'm finished with them. My garage doesn't need cleaning unless I've just finished a project."

They started looking in the garage first, anyway. No one was out there, but then Myles noticed something. "There's something missing."

Bobby glanced at him. "How do you know that?"

"I told you, I have a place for everything. All my gardening tools are right there. And there's a pair of pruners and a bucket missing. You don't think she'd— ?" He didn't finish the sentence, just headed out the side door toward the yard.

He found her on her knees in front of one of his rosebushes, pruning back the dead blossoms. The cuts were all in the right places, but the savageness with which she was wielding the pruners made him hold back just slightly. Then he heard a soft sound, and immediately knelt down next to her. He slowly reached for the pruners, and she jumped as his hand slipped into her peripheral vision.

"Woah, sweetheart," he said gently. "It's just me." He took the pruners from her, and she crumpled in front of him, sobbing into her hands. Myles helped her to her feet. "We're going inside, and then we can talk, okay?"

She shook her head, and he grasped her shoulders. "Elizabeth, I know you're frustrated and scared, but going inside isn't up for debate. Come on."

He led her into the house and sat her down in the study. Bobby started to leave, but Myles motioned for him to stay. He glanced at Elizabeth for a moment, saw her face was still hidden in her hands, then turned to the Aussie and fingerspelled, slowly, P-L-A-Y A-L-O-N-G. He then signed please. Bobby looked confused for a minute, then figured out what Myles had said and nodded.

Myles took a breath, then swung on the Aussie. "You're supposed to be watching her, Manning! We're not talking about some quick-change Houdini here!"

Bobby held up his hands. "Look, I'm sorry, mate. I didn't hear her go out to the garage."

"There's a signal that sounds in here whenever any of the outside doors are opened, unless you've outdone yourself in stupidity and left the alarm off."

Bobby bristled. "I don't need you telling me how to do my job."

"And I don't feel like allowing Graham to get his hands on her just because you fell asleep on that job!"

"Myles." Elizabeth's voice broke in.

He turned to her. "What?"

"Bobby didn't do anything wrong. I turned off the alarm before I slipped out." Her voice sounded so tired.

Myles knelt down next to her. "Why?" he asked in gentle exasperation. "Why would you do something like that? Don't you understand-- there's a nutcase out there who'd like nothing better than to torture you, and we're trying to keep him from doing that."

Now her tears fell again, but she met his gaze. "I'm sorry, Myles. I just... I just needed to get out, even for a few minutes. I was in SOG's sights the whole time, I promise. Pruning the roses seemed to be a pretty therapeutic idea, considering. I'm sorry I frightened both of you. And I'm sorry for not telling you where I was, Bobby," she added, turning to him. "You got chewed out for something that wasn't your fault."

The Aussie sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. "Aw, that's all right, sheila," he grinned. "I'm so used to Myles' griping I tune ninety percent of it out anyway."

She giggled. "I'll have to remember that."

Myles reasserted his presence good-naturedly. "You likely won't need to, since you rarely give me cause to gripe anyway."

He pulled her to her feet and extricated her from Bobby's arm, possessively putting his own around her and smiling at the same time. "Why don't we find something to eat? I think we've all had a long day."

-!-

-&-

-!-

-&-

11 p.m.

Myles closed the door to the guest room and walked downstairs. He paused at the bottom step and sighed heavily.

"She finally give out?" Bobby asked softly, from his perch on one of the kitchen stools. He pushed a second coffee mug across the counter toward a second stool. "Heard you coming downstairs. Thought maybe you could use this."

The blond agent moved to join him. "Thanks," he said as he sat down, folding his hands in front of him on the counter. "And yes, she finally gave out, after crying herself to sleep in my arms. She had a pretty nasty flashback today. That's why she couldn't look at you earlier-- the blue eyes reminded her too much of Graham." He looked over at his friend. "He did quite a number on her eight years ago. I still can't believe she survived it intact-- the flashbacks alone have her on the edge of catatonia."

"Liz is a strong lady, mate," Bobby replied. "Bit stronger than we'd all realized, even after your battle with Ebola. You're a lucky man to have her in your life."

"I know," Myles replied simply, "and if we get through this as well, I intend to make sure she stays in my life."

His comment prompted a raised eyebrow from the Aussie, and Myles returned the expression. "What? It surprises you that I'd say that?"

"A bit." Bobby took a long drink of his coffee. "I guess I just always had you pegged as a confirmed bachelor like myself. Too busy saving the world to want someone tying you down permanently."

Myles let his breath out in a laugh. "You know, I used to think of it as being tied down, too." He took a drink of coffee, collecting his thoughts. "But it doesn't— if the lady shares your passion for what you do, then it frees you. You know there will always be someone at home who will understand and be there, whether you've spent all day doing paperwork or preventing a terrorist attack."

He paused, debating whether to share more. Then he turned and looked directly at Bobby. "That was what really left me in awe after the Ebola thing— Elizabeth realizes fully what's involved in a… committed relationship with someone in our line of work. And she's still here. In fact, I don't think I ever told any of you this, but the first day I came back to work after the Ebola? What she said to me in the conference room?"

Bobby shook his head. "Nope, you didn't. None of us really expected you to, but after what you said to her in the hospital about 'let peace begin with me,' I was curious what her response would be."

Myles nodded, smiling. "I thought you might, considering the shocked look on your face when I said that to her. She said she'd found her answers, and I asked what they were. She just said, 'Let peace begin…with us'."

"Woah." Bobby's eyes widened a bit. "She really is something."

His friend laughed. "Like Darcy isn't. The journalist who came to DC to 'fight for truth, justice and the American Way'? Teamed up with the 'Avenging Angel' of the FBI?"

"I know," Bobby grinned in reply, "but Darcy…I don't know, she's— she doesn't seem as strong as Elizabeth does. She always wants me to call if I'm not going to show up, or tells me she worries if I don't."

"You think Elizabeth doesn't worry? She does. But she also knows that I love her, no matter what. Elizabeth has been a little more closely involved with the kinds of messes we deal with, Bobby. Darcy hasn't. That makes a difference." He sighed. "The problem right now is, what do I do with her? She's terrified, but she's also frustrated with the 'house arrest' feeling. I wish we could still go to the dinner at the embassy Dad invited us to Sunday, but I just don't see it happening."

Bobby thought for a second. "Why not set something up here instead for Sunday night? Tara and I could take Liz someplace Sunday afternoon, just for a couple hours to get her out of the house. Then you'd have time to get set up, and she'd still be protected."

Myles looked at him, the blue-grey eyes brightening for the first time in what seemed like a month. "That is the best idea I've heard in ages. And I know just what to do."

-!-

-&-

-!-

-&-

Washington, D.C.

Friday, 11 p.m.

He'd watched her house since Sunday. The sound of her scream and the growing fear evident in each action since had sent a thrill of power through his veins. Even her "special agent" hadn't been able to truly comfort her. Slowly, she was becoming his.

Wednesday, the anticipation of her finding the flowers had been almost dizzying. But her arms had been full; she hadn't opened the box there on her doorstep. Instead, she had taken it with her. He had climbed down from his perch where he'd been disguised as a tree-trimmer and followed her, until he'd seen her turn onto 9th Street from K.

She's headed for the Hoover Building, he thought to himself, silently cursing his luck. She thinks they're from Leland. He'd headed back to Georgetown in a hurry.

The flurry of activity around her house Wednesday night had convinced him they were onto him. They knew who, but they didn't know where or when. All he'd had to do was figure out what they were planning, and work around it.

He couldn't believe his luck when he discovered they weren't putting her in a hotel. They were going to use Agent Leland's home for their safe house. Perfect, he'd thought, since he'd already secured a layout of Leland's neighborhood, in hopes of playing a few mind games with the agent in addition to his lovely shrink.

He had watched discreetly as surveillance teams set up around the house, praying they'd miss the one spot he'd selected as most desirable. The angle was covered, but from much closer than he'd planned on being. He'd be outside the perimeter, and they'd never notice him.

Now he pored over the layout, finding sight lines and windows-- he'd already been over to his hiding place last night, to see if he could tell which rooms each window covered. He could see the guest room, where she was staying, the living room area and what appeared to be a formal dining room, although he doubted the unattached agent used it much. French doors and lightweight window coverings allowed an airy feeling, he was sure, but he loved the fact that it also gave him an ideal view.

Evan Graham leaned back in his chair, stretching and looking around the room. Everything was set. In just a short time, Elizabeth Dillingham would be here, helpless and at his mercy. It didn't matter what precautions the FBI had taken, nor how closely Agent Leland hovered; he had already chosen his time and place to spring, where she was most vulnerable, and where the irony of her capture would be supremely evident.

The thrill rushed through his veins again, and he began to laugh, the sound resonating off the concrete walls. She would be here, so soon... Oh, so very soon...

-!-

-&-

-!-

-&-