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before the judge by this time tomorrow. You’ll be one case less than you started the day.”
    Leon smiled. “Me and Mr. Landon were just having us a friendly conversation. Isn’t that right?”
    Landon’s shoulder twitched as he swallowed. “That’s right. My boss said he spoke with Leon, and no attorney had been requested.”
    “That right?” Watlow zeroed in on his client.
    Leon fidgeted with the sheet, looking every place but at his attorney. “I don’t rightly remember.”
    JB catalogued every move, tone, and expression in the room. What was he missing? “Get out of there, Landon. Are you trying to blow the case?”
    The agent balked and shot Leon a hard look, nodding even harder.
    “Come on, Landon.” JB braced his arm against the doorframe to keep from charging into the room and extracting the agent. “Now.”
    Landon stormed out of the room. “Don’t push me, JB. You quit, remember? So you don’t get to tell me how to do my job.”
    Leon’s laughter echoed from the room. There was something strange about this whole scenario.
    Garrett Watlow walked across to the door and extended his hand to JB. “Sorry about before. Good to see you again.”
    No need to shun the apology. Might have done the same himself in Garrett’s place. He shook the man’s hand. “Good to see you, too.”
    “Aw, now isn’t that sweet.” Leon lazed against the back of the bed as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “My attorney and an FBI agent… No, make that the ex-husband of my hostage and my attorney standing in my room, making nice and polite.”
    JB turned toward the hallway.
    “Hey, how’s Marcy doing?” Leon cackled.
    JB stood stone-still.
    “Let me know if there’s anything she needs. I can always make a quick trip down the hall.” Leon made kissy sounds. Laughed. “Anything at all.”
    JB flexed his fist, then eased his fingers and walked away.
    …
    A couple days and a whole lot of coffee later, JB leaned back against the hospital wall and waited patiently…kind of. Marcy’d been a regular bad, high-maintenance, impatient patient. Insisting she could do everything when she couldn’t. Then double insisting she’d go home today. Even Sadie had noted her daughter had always been a quick healer.
    His trips away from the hospital had been few. Mostly for a quick shave and shower his friends at the Crayton Police had offered, plus dropping in at the local department store for a change of clothes. At this point, he wanted a long, hot shower and a good night’s sleep. Was that too much to ask?
    The past few days had been stressful. The past few months, horrendous. And the past few years, one never-ending series of tense negotiations with his judgment, his ego, and his stubbornness. Never mind on-the-job parlays, real or in-character.
    As soon as Dr. Crowley would allow, JB would tend to Marcy at home. He didn’t want her in this hospital any longer than need be, even if it meant putting up with Marcy’s sass as she stormed around the house. And, no doubt about it, she would storm around the house.
    Not being able to do what she wanted for a few days would accelerate her agitation. Him being there would launch her sky-high. She liked being in control. Everything within her sight would be fair game for cleaning or change—dust bunnies, cobwebs, smears on the windows, out-of-date food in the refrigerator, clothes that fit, clothes that didn’t fit, the heat, the a/c, curtains open, curtains closed. Nothing would be safe from her scrutiny…including him.
    Dr. Crowley finished his examination then signed the release papers. “I’m only letting you go home because JB’s there in case you need anything.”
    …
    Marcy shot up in bed. “JB’s where?”
    Oh, no, no, no, no, no. He was not going home with her. She’d go sleep on the street before she’d face the possibility of what he might find at the house.
    “At our house.” JB cricked his neck from side to side. “Seems the paperwork isn’t