Jonathan sighed noisily-a growl, really. “Look, Officer…” He waited for the guy to fill in the blank.

“ Agent,” the man corrected. “Special Agent Clark, United States Secret Service.”

“Special Agent Clark, then. United States Secret Service. If you got on your radio right now, you might be able to stop a mass murderer before she gets away.”

“Why be greedy?” the agent quipped. “I’ve already got one member of the team in custody. You’ll give me the rest in time.”

Jonathan bowed his head. Surely the man was being deliberately obtuse. Did he really imagine, even for a moment, that the destruction here could have been wrought by a man with a. 45? Jonathan didn’t have a lot of respect for cops in general, but he had a particular hard-on for federal agents whose bravado outstripped their abilities. It happened a lot. He resigned himself to losing this battle.

“What in God’s name are you doing?” a voice boomed from Jonathan’s blind spot. It was Dom D’Angelo.

“Stand away, Father,” Clark commanded, clearly noting Dom’s collar. “This is none of your concern”

“It absolutely is my concern,” Dom insisted. “Not only is that man my friend, he is also my driver for the evening.”

“One step closer,” Clark warned, “and I’ll arrest you, too.”

Jonathan stared out into the cold night, blinking his eyes against the wind. There was a killer out there somewhere, getting away while they dicked around with Agent Clark.

It was going to be a very long night.

CHAPTER TWO

Christyne Nasbe enjoyed the cold weather. Having grown up in southern California, she found the four seasons here in Virginia to be invigorating. This year’s autumn had been particularly breathtaking, and as Thanksgiving approached next week, the record-breaking cold that was a source of so much griping among her neighbors was a source of unbridled excitement for her.