Jezzie Flanagan managed a friendly smile for the two harried-looking policemen. “I don't exactly look the part today, I know. I was on my vacation. I race the bike. I raced it here.”

Jezzie Flanagan took the shortcut across a pristine lawn that was lightly coated with frost. She disappeared inside the school's administration building.

Neither of the D.C. policemen took his eyes off her until she was gone. Her blond hair blew like streamers in the stiff winter wind. She was definitely stunning to look at, even in dirty jeans and work boots. And she had a very powerful job. They both knew that from her I.D. She was a player.

As she made her way through the front lobby, someone grabbed at her. Someone caught a piece of Jezzie Flanagan, which was typical of her life in D.C.

Victor Schmidt had hooked onto her arm. Once upon a time, and this was difficult for Jezzie to imagine now, Victor had been her partner. Her first, in fact. Now he was assigned to one of the students at the Day School.

Victor was short and balding. A stylish GQ sort of dresser. Confident for no particularly good reason. He'd r always struck her as misplaced in the Secret Service, maybe better suited for lower rungs of the diplomatic corps.

“Jezzie, how's it going?” he half whispered, half spoke. He never seemed to go all the way on anything, she remembered. That had always bugged her.

Jezzie Flanagan blew up. Later, she realized she had really been on edge when Schmidt stopped her. Not that she needed an excuse for the flare-up. Not that morning.

Not under the circumstances.

“Vic, do you know that two children have been taken from this school, maybe kidnapped?” she snapped.

"One is the secretary of the treasury's son? The other is Katherine Rose's little girl? The actress Katherine