Natalie slumped against the seat back of the Beemer aware her daughter was sending her worried looks.

Finally, when Perry coasted along an empty street, she said, “Knock it off, Perry. I’m fine, it’s poor Hooley—” She broke off, cleared her throat. “Drive to your condo, then I’ll drive myself home.”

“Nope,” Perry said.

“What do you mean, ‘nope’?”

“I don’t want you going back home again tonight. It’s a crime scene, your bedroom probably has techs crawling all over it. There might still be police activity. You don’t need to go through anything else tonight.” She gave her a grin. “Besides, you’re my mother. I love you more than any other soul in the world, so that means you’re coming home with me—no, don’t argue. I’m driving, after all.”

“You know by now everyone will be gone. No one else is going to come around tonight. Besides, Luis is there to protect me.”

Perry came to a smooth stop at a red light, wondering why there was a red light operating at 4:00 a.m. She turned to face her mother. “Do you remember when I was a little girl and I’d have a nightmare and crawl in with you and Dad? Well, now it’s you and me and you’ve had a whopper of a nightmare and I’ve got a bed big enough for the both of us. Davis will be sleeping on the sofa. We’ll be safe and sound and I won’t have to worry about either of us. So no more arguments, Mom.”

After a moment, Natalie said, “My sneakers still aren’t laced up.”

“You should try Velcro.”

“Nah, those are old-lady shoes.” Where had that negligent bit of humor come from? She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

They drove through the empty streets, Davis in his Jeep behind them. Natalie said suddenly, “Perry, I remember Arliss was concerned that you and Day were getting too serious about each other.”

Perry arched an eyebrow at her mother. “Why our being involved would distress Aunt Arliss is beyond me. I told you Day proposed the other night, and, knowing Day, he told her about it. You’d think she’d be cheering for him. I mean, she’s known me forever, which means she’s got to know I’m not a crappy person. Why did you think of this at four o’clock in the morning?”

Natalie’s eyes were closed again. “It popped into my head, I don’t know why. I told Arliss I would tell her today what I was going to do.”

Perry made a left turn onto Vanderbilt Street. It was quiet, and dark as a pit if not for the streetlights. As she turned her mom’s Beemer into her driveway, she said, “I don’t want you to resign, Mother. It wouldn’t be right; I don’t care what sort of pressure Aunt Arliss lays on your head. Please promise me you won’t let her talk you into it.”

“I wish it were that simple, Perry, but you know it’s not. Think about Arliss and Thorn—they have an administration to run, an election to win. Maybe my resigning is for the best. I wouldn’t have to live here, not really. Maybe a horse ranch in Montana. I could raise Thoroughbreds, breed and race them. Your father always loved horses. I imagine if he hadn’t died, that’s what we would have done when we retired. What do you think?”

Perry turned off the engine, faced her mother. “You would be out shooting snakes within a week, you’d be so bored. It’s Dad who wanted to raise horses, not you.”

“I could live near Big Sky. You love to ski, as do I. We could—”

Perry leaned over and pulled her mother close. “No, absolutely not. It’s out of the question. Listen to me, you will not resign. You will tell Arliss to try for a little loyalty, okay? You will tell her the FBI will figure out who’s behind this and put a stop to it. You will not get out of Dodge because it would make things easier for Arliss and the president. And what happened tonight, won’t that change everything? No one can doubt someone’s trying to kill you, not after tonight.”

Natalie felt her daughter’s hair soft against her cheek, smelled the light scent of lemon, felt the strength and determination in that healthy young body. It had been only the two of them for so many years now. Life was so incalculable. Like Brundage, she could be dead tomorrow, from an accident, from a disease, if the killer didn’t succeed. She hugged her daughter closer. Perry was in danger along with her and she couldn’t bear it. She had to bring it to a close, had to. She saw Davis’s Jeep headlights swing in behind them. She said against Perry’s hair, “I was wondering if I do resign if all the attempts against both of us would stop.”