Jack made a phone call, and the three of them shared a cab to hisbuilding. Once there, he used a card key to access the building andtook them straight across the lobby to a waiting elevator. Once theelevator door closed, he pushed a yellow button and flashed his ID ata glass panel high on the wall. "Butler," he identified himself."Escorting a witness for top security."

After a moment the elevator hummed and began to move. Catherine,hands stuffed deep in her pockets, watched the green digitalindicator flash an ascending series of numbers. It stopped onthirty-five, and the doors slid open.

"Wait a minute," she said, alarmed. "You said the facility was onthe top floor. This building's higher than thirty-five floors. Lotshigher."

"Sure," Jack agreed. "But you can't go directly there. I told youit's top security. How do we know you're who you say you are? How dowe know you aren't on some suicide mission to assassinate someonealready up there? You have to be processed first."

Joe gave her a reassuring nod, and she reluctantly followed Jackout of the elevator. They emerged into a small, steel-walled cubicle.Jack approached a small, mirrored square and held up his ID.

One-way glass, Catherine surmised. Just like in the elevator.

"Thank you, Mr. Butler," a metallic voice said. "Please place yourright palm on the ID plate."

Jack laid his open hand against another square; the glass on thisone looked smoky. It lit up for an instant, outlining Jack's hand ina dull red glow, then darkened.

"Identity confirmed," the voice announced. "Next."

Jack gestured to Joe. "Show 'em your ID," he said.

Looking bewildered, Joe complied, then placed his hand against thesmaller window when requested.

"Identity confirmed," the voice said. "Next."

"She's our witness," Jack replied. "Got any ID on you, Cathy?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Okay. Come here and let the magic laser read your fingerprints.Computer'll identify you in a couple of minutes."

Warily Catherine stepped forward and placed her hand on the glassplate. "How would the computer have my fingerprints?" she asked,eyeing the machine with suspicion.

"When you applied for your job with the D.A., they fingerprintedyou," Joe answered. "Remember?"

She smiled wanly. "That was so long ago," she murmured. "It feelslike another life."

"You may remove your hand," the voice said. "Still processing. Youmay proceed."

A panel inset in the steel wall slid open.

"This way," Jack said.

"Already? But the computer hasn't identified me yet."

"Doesn't matter. You're the witness. Sometimes we get people whohave never been fingerprinted, but we protect them all the same. Justtakes a little longer to process them. Hi, Kelly." This last was to atall, cool-looking blond woman who stepped into the small,white-painted room they now occupied.

"Hi, Jack," she answered. "What have you got for us?"

"Cathy Chandler, meet Kelly Freemont," Jack said. "She's a guardfrom the seventy-fifth floor."

"That's the safe floor?" Catherine asked, eyeing the other womansuspiciously. About Catherine's own height and of slender build,Kelly Freemont didn't look as if she could protect anyone fromanything.

"Don't be deceived," Jack told her. "Kelly has a black belt in twoforms of martial arts and can outshoot anybody on the firing range.Which is located in the sub basement."

Still not ready to offer her trust, Catherine extended her handfor a polite handshake. Jack repeated the formalities with Joe andKelly escorted all three of them into a large office area crowdedwith desks, filing cabinets, and computer consoles.

At this time of night, the office was largely empty; Catherinespotted a lone Hispanic man at a computer terminal near where sheimagined they'd entered this warren of cubicles, doorways, and halls,and decided he must be the source of the mechanical voice they'dheard over the intercom. He confirmed this when he looked in theirdirection and waved.

"Kelly!" he called. "We have a match. Catherine Chandler. Computersays she was abducted in 1989. No body."

"Thanks, Steve," she answered. "That's what we wanted to hear."She turned to Catherine. "Would you come with me, please?"

Catherine hesitated, loathe to leave the illusion of safetycreated by Joe's presence. He smiled and patted her hand. "I'll beright here when you get back."

"Both of us." Jack added his own encouragement.

Catherine braced herself and followed Kelly to a glass-walledoffice. Inside, a solidly built black woman who looked to be in hermid-forties was seated behind a scarred wooden desk, writingsomething on a buff folder in front of her.

Kelly paused at the half-open door and tapped. "Arlen?"

The woman looked up.

"Catherine Chandler," Kelly said, by way of introduction, andshowed Catherine into the office.

The black woman stood and offered a hand for a strong handshake."Miss Chandler. I'm Arlen Miller. Won't you sit down?"

Catherine gingerly perched on the edge of a chair in front of thedesk. Kelly pushed the door closed and took up a protective stanceagainst it.

"Now, Miss Chandler," Arlen Miller began.

"It's Cathy," Catherine interrupted. "Please," she added, when thewoman glanced at her sharply.

"Cathy," she agreed. "Call me Arlen."

Catherine nodded agreement, liking the fierce look in the olderwoman's eyes. "Arlen," she repeated.

Arlen smiled. "Let's begin again. I know that you've agreed totestify in court against someone who would be willing to kill you inorder to stop you."

Catherine gave a cautious nod.

"I don't know the specifics of the case," Arlen explained. "Theyaren't important. All I need to know is that you are a voluntarywitness, as opposed to a plea bargain witness. That's someone who'sagreed to testify in exchange for a lighter sentence."

Catherine smiled faintly. "I know," she said. "I'm an attorney. Iused to be with the D.A."

Arlen's eyebrows rose a polite fraction. "Oh? Are you familiarwith witness protection programs?"

Catherine nodded. "I placed a witness in the federal programonce."

"Then you know we'll do all we can to protect you."

Catherine nodded again. "I also know you may not be able to," shesaid softly.

"Yes. Well, that's sometimes true," Arlen admitted."Confidentiality is compromised, a new identity is uncovered."

"I don't want a new identity," Catherine interrupted. "I have asafe place to go after I'm no longer needed to testify."

Arlen looked even more surprised. "Most places people think of assafe, aren't," she cautioned. "And if he's brought you here, Jackmust think you're in grave danger from someone with a great deal ofpower."

"I am," Catherine said. "But I'm also sure I don't need a newidentity."

"Very well. I'll tell you about this portion of our program,then." She folded her hands on her desk. "We have a facility upstairswhere we can accommodate up to six guests..."

"Guests?" Catherine interrupted, unable to keep the bitternessfrom her voice.

"For want of a better word, yes," Arlen answered. Her smile waswry. "It's better than inmates, even though most of our guests arethat, too."

Her matter of fact manner made Catherine smile. "I suppose," sheconceded. "Very well. I'm to be a guest."

"That's right," Arlen answered her. "You should know, Cathy, thatour particular program has a very high success rate. In the fourteenyears since its inception, we've lost only two witnesses... both ofwhom made the mistake of contacting family or friends after leavinghere."

"I'll be completely isolated, then?" Catherine asked through atight throat.

"No. Not upstairs. We've never lost anyone while in our custodyhere, and it's my intention that we never will."

Arlen looked grim and fierce; Catherine suspected she would make aformidable foe if crossed.

"You will have a telephone for any calls you wish to make,although outside calls are subject to security approval," Arlen wenton. "You may receive approved visitors, either in one of ourisolation rooms, where guests are separated from visitors by a bulletresistant glass panel, or, if they pass our security checks, in yourown room. You may fraternize with other guests, if you wish."

"I don't know them," Catherine objected, automatically. "What's tokeep my..." she hesitated, groping for a word to describe Gabriel.'Enemy' came immediately to mind, but she didn't want to say italoud.

"The man against whom you will testify," Arlen supplied.

"Right. What's to keep him from planting a false witness withorders to kill me when I'm not looking?"

"Nothing," Arlen said. "If his man is willing to lose his ownlife."

Well, that was blunt and honest. Catherine swallowed. "How can yoube sure an assassin will be caught before escaping?"

"Because a guard checks on the guest before a visitor is permittedto leave."

"What if the guard is subverted?"

"That's always possible, of course. But we take steps to assurethat's difficult. Among other things, our guards do not identifythemselves as such in their private lives. They are simply federalagents. It would be difficult for an outsider to accurately identifyone of our guards."

Catherine nodded slowly. "I see."

"I believe it was Franklin Roosevelt who told his wife that anyonecould kill him if he didn't mind getting caught. I'm afraid that'sthe best protection we can offer, as well. The assurance that ifsomeone does get to you, he will pay for it."

"Hardly reassuring," Catherine murmured, keenly aware of theunnatural thumping of her heart.

"Remember we've never lost a single witness," Arlen reminded. "Wemust be doing something right."

Maybe it was because she didn't try to hide the stark dangers, butCatherine found herself putting her trust in this woman. Arlen madeher feel safe, as no one but Vincent and her father had ever donebefore. She nodded. "Yes," she said. "I suppose you are."

Arlen rose. "I'm sure you'd like to see your room and get settledin. Have you any personal items with you?"

"I have my toothbrush and a hairbrush in my pocket," Catherinesaid. "Nothing else."

"Very well. Kelly will see you are provided with the necessaryclothing and toilet articles. Perhaps later your friend Mr. Maxwellcan bring you some things."

"Yes. Thank you."

Arlen Miller offered her hand. "No, Miss Chandler," she saidseriously. "Thank you."

Before they went upstairs, both Catherine and Joe were searched,Catherine by Kelly and Joe by a passive-faced male guard summonedfrom an office.

"Sorry about this, but we can't be too careful," Kelly saidcheerfully as she completed the thorough pat-down. "Come with me,please."

Catherine picked up her coat from the chair where Kelly had put itafter going through the pockets and inspecting the lining. Joegrumbled and straightened his tie and jacket.

"Where are we going?" Catherine asked. "The elevator's back thatway."

"That one doesn't go all the way up," Kelly explained. "In orderto reach the top floor, you have to stop here. The security elevatoropens on only two floors; this one, and the security floor."

"Isn't that a fire code violation?" Joe wondered aloud. "Not beingable to get to the ground floor on the elevator?"

"I'll take my chances with fire, Joe," Catherine said softly.

The surprise on his face quickly gave way to understanding, andguilt. "I'm sorry, Cathy."

She offered him a wan smile. "Don't be sorry, Joe. I'm doing whatI have to do. It's not your fault it's inherently dangerous."

Kelly paused in front of a door-sized archway that looked like ahigh-tech version of the metal detectors seen in airports. Her wordsconfirmed Catherine's guess. "Step through the metal detector one ata time, please," she said.

"In case you missed something during the search," Joe said, buthis tone was cheerful.

Catherine suspected a small part of him was enjoying thecloak-and-dagger aspect of this. She followed him through thedetector and waited as Kelly stepped through herself.

"Why didn't it go off?" she asked. "Aren't you armed?"

"I am," Kelly admitted, and displayed the butt of a small sidearmtucked into what looked like a specially made pocket of her slacks."The guard on observation turned it off before I went through." Shepointed to the video camera mounted above the elevator door.

The room felt suddenly cold and Catherine swallowed. She'd livedin the eye of a camera before and the struggle to maintain a sense ofdignity and self was still vivid in her memory.

Joe took her arm as they stepped into the small stainless-steelelevator car. "You okay, Radcliffe?" he asked in an undertone.

"Considering the circumstances," she said, and forced a smile.

"I'm here for you, kiddo," he promised solemnly. "You can lean onme."

She squeezed his hand. "Thanks, Joe."

The elevator doors opened on another small, steel-walled cubicle.Kelly stepped to a yellow button and keyed it. "Freemont here withnew guest and visitor," she said into a small metal grille.

"Palm on viewer, please," said a metallic voice that soundedremarkably like the one forty floors below.

Kelly complied with the request, placing her hand on the glassplate.

"Confirmed," said the voice. "Next?"

Catherine placed her hand on the plate and spoke her name clearly.The voice confirmed her identity, and then Joe's.

Outside the cubicle was an open foyer. A camera mounted high inone corner made steady, back-and-forth sweeps of the room; a secondcamera eliminated blind spots. An armed guard sat at a desk behind aplexiglas shield, a row of monitors set up in front of him. Hisposture was relaxed, but Catherine noticed his eyes were alert andinterested.

"Hi, Butch," Kelly greeted casually. "Meet Cathy and Joe."

"Hi," Butch said. He didn't rise from his chair, and his handhovered near his weapon.

"Cathy's a guest," Kelly said. "Joe's a visitor."

"I know," Butch answered. "I've been briefed."

"Great. We're putting her in the corner room, right?"

"Right," Butch confirmed. "Morris is getting it ready now."

"Good," Kelly said. "Cathy, have you eaten?"

Joe and Jack had ordered burgers in the diner and had gotten onefor her, but she'd been unable to do more than nibble on a couple offrench fries. "No," Joe answered for her. "She hasn't."

"I'm not really hungry," Catherine demurred.

"Well, we'll get you something anyway," Kelly decided. "Some soup,maybe."

"I'll take care of it," Butch promised. "See you later,Cathy."

"Thank you," she replied faintly.

Already Kelly was striding away, leading Catherine and Joe along awide, well-lighted corridor. The soft gray and blue flecked carpetmuffled the sound of their footsteps. Kelly stopped before awhite-painted steel door and tapped. "Morris?" she called. "You inthere?"

A husky black man wearing a uniform similar to Kelly's emergedfrom the room. "Yeah," he said. "Just finished making the bed." Hescowled. "That's two in a row, Freemont. Just remember you're doingthe next one."

Kelly gave him a bland smile. "But Morris," she replied, her voicetreacly-sweet. "You know I can't make hospital corners the way youcan."

Morris, who didn't look much older than twenty, drew himself tohis full height and puffed out his chest. "Woman," he said, his voiceartificially deep, "that's because I am bad!"

"And awfully good at making beds," Kelly conceded. "I owe you, Iknow."

Morris's answer was a broad smile that showed white in his darkface. "And I won't forget it." He turned to Catherine, suddenly allmasculine charm. "You must be Cathy."

"I am," she answered, and offered her hand. "Thank you forpreparing my room."

"Not a problem," he answered, and winked. "Just don't tellFreemont I said so."

He was introduced to Joe, then excused himself and hurried offdown the hall.

"Guards seem to be pretty casual around here," Joe commented,watching him go.

"We may seem casual," Kelly said. "But we take our work veryseriously." She pushed the door wide.

The room that was to be her new home lay beyond the opening.Catherine girded herself and stepped forward, past Kelly, who stoodback politely.

The room was small and square, the walls painted a uniform white.White vertical blinds shielded the single wide window. Opposite thewindow, a twin bed and small nightstand stood against the wall. Adigital clock, its numbers glowing red, was on the table.

Catherine gasped. Nausea rose thick and hot in her throat and shestepped back from the threshold.

Joe caught her arm, turning her toward him. "What is it?"

She stared at him, too overcome with instinctive horror to replyand with rough compassion, he pulled her into his arms. The wool ofhis overcoat was damp beneath her cheek; odd to think they hadn'tbeen inside long enough for it to dry, when so much had happened.

She would not be sick. She would not permit him that power overher.

"This room won't do." Joe's voice, above her head, was harsh andauthoritative. "Find her something else."

But it wasn't the room, it was her memories, and nothing Joe coulddo would eliminate those. The same unyielding resolve that hadsustained her during her imprisonment years earlier rose unexpectedlynow. She freed herself from the shelter of Joe's arms. "No," shesaid, forcing her voice to a steadiness she didn't feel. "This one'sfine."

He studied her carefully. "You're sure?"

She nodded. "Sure." She glanced into the barren white interior andswallowed. "But could you do something for me?"

"Sure, Cathy," he said. "Anything."

"Hold my hand?"

Joe's solid grip on her fingers helped her summon the strength tostep through the doorway. Inside, the resemblance to that other roomhigh in Gabriel's tower faded. A narrow pressboard entertainmentcenter, complete with stereo, small television, and VCR, stoodagainst the wall by the door. It was flanked by a desk cluttered withtelephone, pens and pencils, and a thick pad of writing paper. A fewforlorn books tumbled across a shelf too wide to hold them up.

"There's not much in here right now," Kelly said. "We find most ofour guests like to modify their rooms to suit themselves. Tomorrowyou can go to the library. It has a selection of prints and postersand stuff for the walls, and you can borrow all the books andcassettes and videos you want."

"I'll do that," Catherine said, and looked again at the desk, thetelevision, the almost empty shelf just waiting to be filled. Thespecter of endless empty hours faded. She could live here if she hadto. And she did have to.

"Panic button here," Kelly said, and showed her the flat plasticswitch on the wall next to the bed. "There's another one in thebathroom. Push this and you'll have guards swarming all over in aboutten seconds."

"Panic button," Catherine repeated shakily, staring at theinnocuous little switch. "It goes off at the guard station?"

"It goes off everywhere," Kelly answered. "Up here, anddownstairs, too. Once it's been hit, no one gets off this floor untilsomeone down there enters a security code." She grinned. "Try not tohit it by accident."

Catherine smiled back. "I'll try."

And then she looked at the open door. "Kelly."

"Yes?"

"The door. Does it lock?"

Kelly caught the doorknob and pulled it toward her. "Sure.Deadbolt right here, see? Thumbturn on the inside, key on theoutside."

"So I can open it," Catherine said. "Any time."

"You bet," Kelly said. "Any time at all. You're not a prisonerhere, Cathy."

"No," Catherine agreed. "Who has the key?"

"All keys are kept in a locked key rack at the main guard station.I can get you one if you want to keep your room locked when you'renot in it."

"I want all the keys."

Kelly blinked. "All of them?"

Catherine nodded. "I don't want anyone to be able to get in here.Not even the guards."

"I'll have to check with Arlen," Kelly said doubtfully. "What ifyou fell, or got sick? How would we get in?"

"I'll risk it," Catherine said. "But I won't sleep if I'm notsecure. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Kelly answered. "It's just an unusual request.Let me check on it. Meanwhile, I'll see you're given a key." Kellywent out.

Joe cleared his throat. "Listen, kiddo, I should go. Let you getsettled in..."

"Please don't. Not yet." The plea slipped out before she knew itwas coming; her fisted knuckles were white with the effort requiredto keep from clutching his arm.

His look was solicitous, but a bit surprised. "Cathy?"

She took a deep breath, and wished her heart wasn't thumping quiteso fast. "I'm sorry. You must have things to do..."

"Nothing that won't keep." He took off his coat and dropped intothe only chair.

Trembling, she sank onto the edge of the bed. "It's just the ideathat when you go, I'll be alone."

"I know, Cath. I wish there was a way to change that. To getsomebody up here to stay with you."

"Then they'd be at risk, too, Joe. I couldn't allow that. This issomething I have to do by myself. For myself. Just... not quite yet,okay?"

He studied her briefly, then nodded. "Okay." An awkward silence,filled only with the sound of their breathing, followed. Joe forced alaugh. "Now what do we do?"

She tucked her feet up and forced herself to relax. "Why don't youtell me what you've been up to the past four years? Got a girlyet?"

Her teasing foray brought a response she hadn't expected. Joesmiled and displayed his left hand. Gold glinted on his ring finger."Yep."

She sat up straight. "Joe! You're married!" The first genuinesmile of the day creased her face as she bounded off the bed to givehim a hug.

He returned her embrace with enthusiasm.

She bounced back onto the bed and settled herself crosslegged,leaning forward eagerly. "Tell me about her. Where'd you meet?"

His grin widened. "We have this mutual friend, see? Who introducedus, but neither of us thought anything about it. Then the mutualfriend disappeared, and we got together a few times because we wereworried, and..."

"Joe." She interrupted him, her voice tight with intensity. "Whois it?"

In answer, he pulled out his wallet, flipped out a plastic sleeve,and displayed the picture inside.

Looking back at her, radiant in white gown and veil, was JennyAronson.

"Jenny? You married Jenny?"

"Yeah." He looked proud enough to pop. "Can you believe it?"

"I don't know," she said slowly. "It's kind of incredible." Shestared at the photo and felt a dazed smile creep across her face."You and Jenny."

Joe grinned. "Didn't think I had it in me, did you?"

She closed his wallet and threw it at him, feeling a little pangas she shut Jenny's radiance away.

So much had changed, and nothing more than herself. What made herthink other people hadn't changed, gone on with their lives?

A cursory tap on the door interrupted her thoughts before theyquite erased the flush of happiness Joe's bombshell had created. Shewent to the door and looked out the fisheye peephole.

Morris was outside, balancing a laden tray. Kelly stood behindhim.

Catherine opened the door and let them in. Morris carried the trayto the desk. "Here's something for you to eat," he said, steppingaround Joe and pushing aside paper and pencil cup to make room. "Hopeyou like Campbell's tomato soup."

"Thank you," Catherine murmured automatically, but she couldn'thelp eyeing the tray with suspicion.

"Hey," Morris said, spreading his hands. "I opened the can myself.Got water from the tap myself. Warmed the soup in the microwavemyself. Now, I didn't open the crackers, because they were alreadyopen, but I confess I've been nibbling on them all evening. If they'dbeen poisoned, I'd have keeled over by now."

Catherine felt herself flushing. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize," Kelly said briskly. "Most of our guestsfeel that way when they first arrive. You're welcome to use thekitchen to prepare your own meals, or you can eat what our cookfixes. He's one of the guards, by the way, and eats his owncooking."

Catherine couldn't help a smile. "That's reassuring," she said."Thank you."

"All part of the job," Kelly said, and held out her hand. "Here.Arlen says if you want the keys, you can have them. These are allthere are." She laid a ring of four keys into Catherine's palm. "Isthere anything else you need?"

Catherine closed her fingers on the keys. "I don't think so."

"Fine. Morris and I will leave you now, but we'll be at thestation if you think of anything."

They went out.

Behind her, Joe was on his feet, reaching for his coat. "I'msorry, Cath. I really have to be going. Jenny had a book signingtonight, but she'll be getting home soon and she'll worry."

She wanted to cling to him, to beg him again to stay. Not thathe'd be particularly helpful if Gabriel's minions managed to break inhere... they'd just mow Joe down, too. But his presence gave her apeace of mind she knew she'd miss. "All right," she said. "It's goodto see you, Joe."

He hugged her tightly. "I missed you these last years," hemurmured. "Worried like hell, too. I'm glad you're back. Even underthese circumstances." He held her away from him and gave her acrooked grin. "Now, eat your soup and get some sleep. I'll see youtomorrow."

"No." She had to force the word out, but she said it withcertainty.

"No?" He looked puzzled. "No, what?"

"No, you won't see me tomorrow."

"Cathy, you can have visitors. Jack told me."

She shook her head. "It's too dangerous."

His face registered hurt shock. "You're not afraid of me?"

"Of you? No, Joe, of course not. For you."

"For me...?" he repeated slowly.

"And for Jenny."

"I don't understand."

"Gabriel," she said flatly. "If he finds out what you mean to me,Joe. If he should even suspect it."

"What? He'll have me killed?"

She swallowed. "As a warning to me. To hurt me. Or Jenny. As awarning to you. I couldn't live with that."

Stark horror flashed across his face. "You think they'd hurtJenny?"

She nodded. "I know these people, Joe. They're ruthless."

His throat worked convulsively. "I was going to tell Jenny aboutyou as soon as I got home," he said. "I've been thinking about howhappy she'd be to hear you're all right."

"Don't," she said. "Don't tell her."

"Because she'd insist on coming up to see you," he said, noddingslowly. "And that might tip off this Gabriel that you care."

"Yes."

His hands moved restlessly. "I hate to leave you here. I hate youbeing alone in this."

She smiled, and this time it didn't feel forced. "I'll be allright, Joe. Anyway, I'm used to being alone now."

"Yeah." He didn't sound convinced. He brought his hand up andtouched her cheek. "Hang in there, Radcliffe," he said softly. "I'llbe in touch."

"Be careful, Joe," she answered.

She locked the door behind him and laid the keys on the desk.Tomorrow she could find a way to carry them.