"Did he name names?"

"If he had, don't you think I'd have given them to you? He said he didn't know. He knew only that there was going to be an attack on Vasaro."

"Did you think he was lying?"

"How do I know? But if he's so good at gathering information, then he can damn well find out who was behind the attack. You don't seem to be doing the job."

"The three dead men had terrorist affiliations."

"But also were known to work for hire. You haven't come up with any solid leads."

"We're working on it."

"Then work harder. And bring me Travis." He spoke to the driver. " Pull over, George." After the limousine glided to a stop, he leaned over and opened the door. "I'll have George place a call and have you picked up. I want to hear something positive from you within twenty-four hours."

Danley got out of the car. "I'll do my best, Mr. President."

"Do better than that." He slammed the door and leaned back on the seat. God, he hoped he'd lit a fire under Danley. There was something seriously wrong when it took all this time to track down just one man.

"Juniper, Mr. President?" George asked.

"Yes." Take him to the serene beauty of that old house in the country and let him sit beside Cassie, who existed in a world he could never enter. Cassie, who seemed to be fading away more and more with every passing day.

He blinked rapidly as he felt tears burn his eyes. Jessica Riley had said that Cassie was not any worse, but God knows how she could tell.

Maybe she could though. Maybe dealing with children like Cassie had given her a sixth sense about them. It was his wife, Chelsea, who had urged him to try Jessica Riley. She'd read a book Jessica had written about her work with her younger sister, Melissa, who had been in a state similar to Cassie's for over six years. Melissa was now attending Harvard, apparently completely cured. He'd checked Jessica out and found that she had excellent qualifications, but her treatments were sometimes unorthodox and controversial.