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him.
    He was intubated and attached to a ventilator, hooked up to a myriad of IVs and tubes and unconscious. But he was alive, and that was what Sarah had tried to focus on as she touched him gently on the forehead and told him she was there and would see him in the morning. She hoped that on some subconscious level he could hear her, knew she was rooting for him and he wasn’t alone.
    But when she left the I.C.U., she burst into tears and almost threw up. Juliet Longstreet had hesitated, obviously awkward and unsure of what to do, but the chief deputy—Mike Rivera, a stocky rock of a man—stepped forward and maneuvered Sarah into the waiting room.
    That was when they all decided she shouldn’t walk alone to her hotel.
    Juliet turned from the front desk with a small key folder. “Tenth floor okay?”
    “Anything’s fine.”
    “Elevators are over here.”
    When they reached her room, Juliet used the card key and pushed open the door, then checked out the place, even pulling open the closet and drawers. Sarah caught a glimpse of her weapon, a reminder that her escort was a federal agent on duty. She wasn’t just being kind.
    “Place looks clean and safe enough.” Juliet turned from the closet and frowned at Sarah. “You look beat. Take a bath and get some sleep. If there’s any news, someone will call you. Promise.”
    Sarah sank onto the bed. Her room was clean and pleasant, a large window overlooking Times Square with its huge, flashing billboards. She was struck by the disconnect between here and her family home in Night’s Landing. Not that long ago, she’d been listening to a mockingbird and drinking tea punch.
    She doubted she’d sleep, never mind the flashing billboards and sirens down on the busy New York street.
    A cell phone trilled, but it took a moment for Sarah to realize it was hers. She fished it from an outer pocket of her tote bag.
    “Sarah—Sarah, honey, it’s Wes.”
    Fresh tears welled in Sarah’s eyes at the sound of John Wesley Poe’s familiar, caring voice. “Wes—I’m so glad you called. It’s been an awful day.”
    “I know, honey. I heard about Rob. I am so, so sorry.”
    “I saw him for a few seconds. He made it out of surgery. That’s a good sign.”
    Juliet turned from the window, not hiding that she was listening. Sarah knew she couldn’t possibly explain that she was talking to the president of the United States. Deputy U.S. Marshal Juliet Longstreet’s ultimate boss. Rob’s boss. But to her, he was a friend, a neighbor, a man she’d known and adored all her life.
    “Ev and I are thinking of you, praying for both you and Rob,” Wes said. “If there’s anything we can do, please, just say the word.”
    “Thank you. Thank you for calling. Just knowing you’re thinking of him makes a difference. He’s—it’s tough, Wes. He’s on a respirator—the bandages—” Her voice faltered. “But I keep telling myself that at least he’s alive. He has a chance.”
    “He’s strong, and so are you.” But beneath his soothing words, she heard the undertone of concern and fear, because for all his brilliance and compassion, Wes Poe didn’t know if Rob would live, either. “Where are you now?”
    “A hotel in New York.”
    “Alone?”
    “I have a deputy marshal escort. Wes, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
    “What about your parents?”
    “They’re waiting until morning their time before they decide what to do.”
    “God love them. This has to be a parent’s worst nightmare.”
    Wes and Evelyn Poe had no children. That it was a political liability was something Sarah had found distasteful. Evelyn had had four miscarriages and stillbirths before an emergency hysterectomy put an end to all hope of giving birth. Sarah remembered how distraught Wes was after that fourth and last loss. He’d come to Night’s Landing alone, so his wife wouldn’t see him mourn, so he could be strong for her when they were together. But even before that terrible day, Sarah