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There was no sound at the door. But the older woman checked her vibrating phone, tapped in a message and then waited until she had a responding one. Seconds later, checking the peephole first, the woman pulled the front door of the apartment open to admit Bishop.

Mia glanced over. In the hours since she’d met with him and Raiker, Jude had changed to black jeans and a button down white shirt. He hadn’t been clean-shaven this morning, and the shadow on his jaw had darkened somewhat in the intervening hours. Rising, she grabbed the purse that had been brought with her things and went to meet him.

“Ms. Deleon and I have been discussing the wisdom of her going online.”

He arrowed a glance at Mia as she reached his side. “Thanks, Caro. We’ll discuss it.”

Jude’s body shielded hers as they walked to the elevator. It didn’t escape Mia’s notice that this was the only apartment on this floor of the building, with a private elevator and entrance. Although her home had good security, this place was on a whole different level.

“I have secure computers that you can use if you want to get online,” he said as they entered the elevator and waited for the doors to close. “I’ll have one delivered. It would be careless to get on the Internet without some safety precautions. A cyber trail can be just as easy to trace as a physical one, and it can be done with guaranteed anonymity.”

“I know my way around cyber security.” She inched away from him. He seemed to take up more than his share of room in the enclosed space.

He turned toward her, destroying her attempt to gain distance. “Did you use the web overseas? In Da Nang specifically? Because any of your online correspondence could have been intercepted. That might be how the woman…Four…managed to trace you there.”

Although she’d very much like to understand how her whereabouts had been traced, Mia remained confident it hadn’t been through her use of the Internet. “I know how to use anonymous web proxies. I visited different Internet cafes and coffee shops each time and no more than a couple times monthly. I didn’t communicate with anyone from my old life, either by email or phone. I didn’t even take a phone overseas with me.”

The elevator doors opened almost soundlessly and he exited first, checking the private vestibule before ushering her out. “Five years. How many countries? And you never made a phone call?”

There was a dark late model Suburban pulled up to the curb outside. Jude guided her through the door and into the vehicle with smooth well-practiced moves. She was settled in a plush leather seat, the driver pulling into the street before she answered. “Three countries. Panama. Bermuda. Vietnam. Although I moved around in each of them. And no, I never made a phone call. Not to the States anyway, and never on a phone I owned.”

She could feel him regarding her from the seat next to hers. The driver was a stranger, but he must have had the address of where they were headed, because there had been no exchange between him and Jude once they’d entered.

“Did you maintain contact with your father?”

She looked out the window at her side. “My father and I have never really communicated. And we have nothing more to say to each other.” Everything she’d always feared about Russell Deleon’s true feelings toward her had been realized in their final showdown before she’d left the country.

“So you haven’t let him know you’re back in the States?”

“It’s exhausting trying to carry on a one-sided relationship. No, I haven’t spoken with him.”

“Good.” When she looked back at him he was surveying her soberly. “We have to figure that you communicated in some fashion with the wrong person, leading to your discovery. At least,” his voice was dry, “if you’ve eliminated me from the suspect list.”

It would be gratifying to deny it. Mia was all too well aware that the level of distrust Bishop felt for her was unchanged. But in light of the risks he’d taken on her behalf to get her out of the country, and the lack of concern he’d shown for Four after the woman had gone in the water, her earlier suspicions had faded several degrees.

“That’s just it.” Deliberately she skirted the admission he was seeking. “I didn’t falter in my story. I didn’t slip up or trust the wrong person, because I don’t trust anyone. I haven’t figured out yet how Four could have found me, but I will. If you want me to wait and use your computer, have one sent over immediately. Because Four didn’t act on her own. She wouldn’t have come after me if she hadn’t been sent.”

“About that…” The vehicle made a turn and Mia could see a flash of the Washington Monument in the distance through Jude’s window. “I’ve got someone monitoring the situation in Da Nang. The papers. The police reports.”

“You mean you hacked the police server.”

He swiped a hand over his short brown hair then leaned forward to adjust the back seat controls to turn up the air conditioning. When it came to temperature, DC in the summer had a lot in common with Da Nang. “Hacked has such a negative connotation. At any rate, no body has been discovered in the water near the wharf area.”

Everything inside her stilled. Mia tried to speak. Found it impossible for a moment. Finally she managed, “So…she survived?”

“That’s hard to say.” He reached down for a lever that would ease his seat back and settled himself more comfortably. “Her passport hasn’t been used to leave the city either. It’s possible the woman’s body was taken a ways out to sea, and will wash up further down the coast. The police are looking for her after I had her picture anonymously sent to them before we left the country. A neighbor admitted to allowing Four into your building. She convinced the man she was a relative of yours. There was a groundskeeper below when the…when your roommate went over the railing. He said he saw a flash of blond hair above but was unable to identify Four from the photo. The neighbor who allowed her into the building, however did ID her.”

Absorbing the news, she said, “So that at least establishes a question about my involvement in Hoa’s death.” At least a physical involvement. There was still no doubt in Mia’s mind that she was indirectly responsible. Four had gone there to confront her. In an unfortunate cosmic twist of fate, she’d found Hoa instead. Hoa. Who hadn’t been expected back for hours. A change of schedule had marked her for death as soon as she’d headed home early.

“The apartment was apparently ransacked. The police have no clues.” As if to forestall her next comment, he added, “And you have nothing to share with them right now that can be proven. So communicating with them will have to be put off.”

Although the argument was logical enough, it still burned. After the heart-racing events in Vietnam and their stomach-lurching sea escape, she’d spent every minute on the plane ride from Manila waiting to be accosted by authorities. In comparison, since returning to the States she felt like she was wrapped in cotton batting. Confined. Constrained. Mia was already restless at the forced inactivity. There were too many questions still unanswered. And if they weren’t forthcoming, she was going to dig for them herself.

They rode in silence for nearly an hour. Manassas was at the outer edge of the DC sprawl, and the scenery had grown more rural as they neared it. Their vehicle turned into a heavily wooded campus that was barricaded with a heavy iron gate. Jude leaned forward to pass his ID to the driver to present to the security guard in the small enclosed building at the foot of the drive.

The man turned away for a few minutes. Mia could see a bank of screens inside the enclosure, all showing different vantage points of the front of the property. As he handed the ID back, he said, “All passengers will need to step out of the vehicle, please.”

Startled, she shot a glance at Jude, but he was already opening his car door. She got out and was met by a man carrying a metal wand. “Raise your arms, please.” Another guard was running the wand over the driver. Slowly, Mia did as she was bid.

The metal wand beeped wildly when it passed over her torso. “Ma’am?” The man’s gaze was cautious. “Are you armed?”

“Mia.” Jude’s voice sounded from the other side of the Suburban. “Give him the knife.”

That wouldn’t be easily accomplished. She’d chosen to wear a sundress today. Turning her back on the man, she lifted the front of the dress and withdrew the knife. Smoothing the fabric back in place, she turned and handed it to the guard. “I’m going to want this back.” She and Jude had bought a duffel bag to check at the Manila airport, because she had flatly refused to leave the weapon behind. Had felt naked the entire plane ride without it.

The guard didn’t crack a smile but his expression eased a bit. “Yes, ma’am. When you leave.”

“It’ll be just another moment, Mr. Bishop.” The three guards, two men and a woman who had conducted the physical checks went back into the small building and returned with different instruments. One efficiently passed a long-handled device beneath the vehicle’s undercarriage, while another scrambled inside the Suburban to do an interior check. The female guard expertly wielded a wand over the exterior. Minutes later, they were allowed back in the Suburban and the entrance slowly opened.

“Wow.” Mia turned to see the gate swing closed behind them. “Raiker takes security pretty seriously.”

“He had some trouble a while back. He tightened up procedures in response.”

The drive wound through the wooded lot, finally opening to reveal a sprawling complex with several different brick structures. They were stopped once more, the check more cursory this time, as Jude stated their business and they were directed to building four.

Leaving the driver with the Suburban in the lot, Jude and Mia walked to the lab facility and were once again required to present identification. She caught sight of the small handheld video monitor the guard was holding. Her and Jude’s photos were already on it for comparison. “Here you go.” He handed them back their IDs and stepped in front of them to press his hand over a palm print scanner for a few moments, before opening the door and allowing them inside.

There was yet another level of security before a female tech led them into what looked like a small examination room. “We have a pathologist on staff,” she explained, taking a cell from her pocket and texting a message. “Dr. Frazier. He’ll be the one to take the sample.” She looked at Jude. “Will you be staying for the procedure, or can I call someone to accompany you to an area where you can wait?”

Plainly neither of them would be left alone for the duration. Jude looked at Mia and she shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“I’ll stay.”

The tech nodded. “May I get either of you anything?” She looked at Mia. “Or maybe you’ll want to wait until after the procedure. Dr. Frazier will be using some numbing agents prior to collecting the sample.”

“No.” Her answer was automatic. Emphatic. “No drugs.”

The woman looked concerned. “Oh, but…there’s going to be some discomfort involved. It would be best if…”

The reaction was visceral. Uncontrollable. Mia could feel her palms dampening, her chest going tight. The jackhammering of her heart sounded in her ears. A conditioned response. Knowing it, being able to identify it didn’t make it less real. “No.” Her voice was hoarse. “I won’t do it if there are drugs involved. I won’t take anything. No pills. No shots.”

“It’s okay, Mia.” Jude’s voice sounded in her ear. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She could feel him close to her side, but couldn’t look at him. She was too busy trying to breathe through the vise in her chest. To beat back the memories that threatened to spring.

There had been drugs at first. Plenty of them. The last thing she recalled her final night of freedom outside the nightclub was a prick in her arm. And then nothing for hours. Perhaps days after that. And when she’d come to he’d been on top of her. Inside her. And the pain was a constant eddy of agony that shrieked through her system, demanding a release.

“All right. That’s fine. I’ll let Dr. Frazier know.” There was a slight sound as the tech slipped out of the room. A soft murmur of voices could be heard, the words indistinct.

“Close your eyes.” His hand at the back of her nape urged her forward to bend at the waist. “Focus. Visualize the room full of flowers. See them?” His words were insistent little jabs that beat back the panic crowding her throat. “All different colors and types. Their aroma. Do you smell them? Deep breath, through your nose. Good. Hold it. Exhale through your mouth.” She gasped, her lungs strangled, then drew in a deep breath. “Another.”

“I’m all right.” Mortification nudged aside the panic. “I’m fine.”

“Of course you are.” His hand was gone. “Worst part of the whole procedure will be if he has to shave a bit of your hair to get at your scalp.”

The statement was casual, meant to put her at ease. She lifted her head at the exact moment the door opened again. A man of indeterminate age with a completely bald head entered the room, pulling on latex gloves. “Ms. Deleon.” He stopped for a moment before her. “No Novocain, no numbing agents. Is that right?” The tech that had been in earlier followed him silently into the room.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Show Leslie where we should look. Oh, yep.” He peered closer after the tech followed Mia’s indication and bared a portion of her scalp. “Yeah, I see. Is there more? Okay, there. That’ll work.”

She sat stoically, eyes straight ahead and they fussed and snipped away hair to bare the spot he’d use for the sample. “This is just a cleanser Leslie is going to put on,” the man said. “To sterilize it. It’s non-narcotic.”

“That’s fine.” Mia had perfected the technique of going somewhere else in her mind. She tried to summon the trait now.

“This will be sharp.” The slice had her stiffening, hissing in a breath. “Hurts, I know.” The doctor’s voice above her was dispassionate. “You’ll have to stay still, though.”

“Okay.” Dots of pain danced at the edge of her vision. She blinked them away. So little, really, compared to what she’d once endured. What the others were still enduring.