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time…soon. I have to figure how to limit the number of people who know.”
    â€œBecause? Never mind. Then, how about Charlie Garland?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œCharlie is out?”
    â€œHe’s CIA, Ruth. The Agency is a screwy place. They work hard at what they believe is the best interests for everyone at any moment in time, but times change and alliances shift. Today’s friend is tomorrow’s enemy. Their loyalties can be powerful, but at the same time, fickle. Who knows what trade-off might have required me to be the bait in some larger dodge? I have a history, but I am ex and therefore, very expendable. The Agency has few scruples in matters like that.”
    â€œI hate your past.”
    â€œYeah, well it sucks but it has it perks. Anyway, if Charlie is involved he will react one way. If not, another. I will wait and see which way he jumps. When that happens and I have a line on its direction, as much as you will not like it, he could become a necessary part of our lives for a while.”
    â€œIf it gets you out of this, I’m okay with that, but you’re right, I won’t like it. What will you do while you wait for him to, as you say, jump?”
    â€œCatch up. How’s our ward, Darla, taking this?”
    â€œDarla is a ‘Wednesday’s child,’ Ike. Her life has been one of nearly continuous awfulness. For her, this is just one more crappy thing to absorb in a lifetime of crap. I suspect she will take it all in better than any of us. Besides she’s at that GED prep program and I haven’t told her yet. Maybe I won’t have to.”
    â€œYour mother?”
    â€œMy mother is the ultimate Drama Queen. She’s in her element. So, again, what now?”
    â€œAt this exact moment, I need to realize what I could have lost. You are not the only one who was scared. With that in mind, I think for now I’ll start exploring all the new additions to your playbook you implied you’d added.”
    â€œDare I say the word?”
    â€œNot say, do.”
    Ruth frowned and looked at the man who was supposed to be dead, but wasn’t and who, but for a twist of fate, should have been. Ike Schwartz, her husband. Peculiar word, husband. It means “dutiful manager” or something stupid like that. How many women really think of their husbands as their manager, dutiful or otherwise? How many women would introduce their spouse as their “dutiful manager?” How many in her world could do so and live? She shoved Ike backwards. Some managing might be in order here, but not by the manager.
    Ike cocked an eyebrow. “You did say you’ve done some research.”
    â€œDo we have any plum sauce?”

Chapter Five
    A dozen frustrated and angry deputies crowded in and around the door of what used to be Ike Schwartz’s office—well, technically, still was. Frank Sutherlin held up his hand in a feeble attempt to quiet them down. Billy, his younger brother, stood in one corner, his wife, Essie, in the other. Where Billy’s face was beet red, Essie’s showed the ravages of three days of steady weeping.
    â€œWe have been shoved aside like they think we don’t know what we’re doing, or something,” Billy said.
    â€œThat’s because they don’t think we do. They think all rural cops are some version of Buford T. Justice.” This came from a recent recruit fresh from the Police Academy, shiny bright and togged in a too-new khaki uniform, and filled with the confidence that only the young and inexperienced possess. Frank was startled that he knew who Buford T. Justice was. A late night Jackie Gleason movie marathon?
    â€œOne of the guys from the State Police said we were the junior varsity and it was time for the first string to step in.”
    â€œOkay, okay,” Frank said. “We all know how the suits from the big city view us. Nothing new there. So what? We still have a job to do and no