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"Maybe wrong, maybe tricked. Or maybe Macdougall made up the whole story. Macdougall will probably get what he wanted out of this -Camp Fed. As I said, I'll look over the files again. I'm not giving up."

Betsey continued to look out over the cityscape. "So you're planning to work all weekend? That's a shame. You look like you need a break," she said.

I sipped my tea, and watched her. "You have something in mind?"

She laughed, and the look on her face was irresistibly coy. She whistled into the neck of her iced-tea bottle," I think it's time, Alex. We both need some good old-fashioned F-U-N. What do you say I pick you up around noon on Saturday?"

I shook my head some, but I was laughing.

"Does that mean yes?" she asked.

I nodded. "It means yes. I think I need a little old-fashioned F-U-N. I'm sure I do."

Chapter One Hundred and Three

I almost couldn't wait for Saturday afternoon to come. I kept busy with the kids grocery-shopping, a stop at the new petting zoo in Southeast. I kept the Mastermind out of my thoughts. Also agents Walsh and Doud, Hazelwood Veterans Hospital, murder and mayhem.

Betsey finally picked me up at exactly twelve in her blue Saab. The car was washed, maybe even polished with Turtle Wax, and it looked shiny and new and the day seemed full of promise.

I knew that Jannie was watching from her bedroom window so I turned, made a funny face, and waved. Jannie waved back, and smiled from ear to ear. She and Rosie the cat were up there; both of them tuned into my ongoing soap opera.

I leaned down into the side window of Betsey's Saab. She was wearing a light leather jacket over a white silk blouse. She could really look great when she wanted to, and I guess she wanted to today.

"You're always right on time. Precise. Just like the Mastermind," I kidded her.

"Masterprize," she corrected. "Wouldn't that be a great ending to this, Alex? I'm him! You catch me because I've made one fatal mistake. It's that I've become infatuated with you."

"You're infatuated?" I asked as I slid into the front seat. "Senior Agent Cavalierre?"

She laughed, and showed a beautiful smile. She was pulling out all the stops. "Giving up my prized weekend, aren't I?"

"So where are we going?" I asked.

"You'll see soon enough. I have a master plan."

'I'm not surprised."

Ten minutes later, she turned the Saab into the circular entrance to the Four Seasons Hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue. Overhanging flags gently rustled in the wind. The courtyard had a lot of brick covered with Boston ivy. Very pretty.

"Is this okay?" She turned and looked at me. Her eyes were a little nervous, a little unsure.

"I think it is,” I said. "Convenient too. Perfect planning."

"Why waste quality time on the road?" Betsey said and smiled irresistibly. She was pretty outrageous for an FBI agent, especially a smart one with lofty ambitions. I liked her style a lot: She went for what she wanted. I wondered if she usually got it.

She had pre-registered and we were taken directly to a room on the hotel's top floor. I walked behind her all the way; I watched her walk.

"You folks need any help from me?" the youthful, but officious hotel bellman asked once we were inside the suite.

I handed him a tip," Thanks for showing us to the room. If you would just shut the door on your way out. Gently."

He nodded. "The room service here is great by the way. The best in

DC."

"Thank you. The door," Betsey said and waved and smiled. "Softly. Bye-bye."

Chapter One Hundred and Four

Betsey was already slipping off her leather jacket. Then she was in my arms by the time the door clicked shut. We were kissing and moving against each other, and it seemed like a slow, graceful, irresistible dance to me. We were both infatuated, and that's not so bad, I was thinking. Good, old-fashioned fun. Isn't that what she had promised?

Betsey felt electric, but also very comfortable in my arms. She was a study in contrasts. She was small and light, but also athletic and strong; she was very smart and serious, but she was funny, ironic, irreverent. Oh yeah, and she was sexy as hell.

We moved toward the bed and let ourselves fall on to it. I don't know who was leading, following. It didn't make any difference. I buried my face in her white silk blouse.

I looked into her brown eyes. "You were pretty sure of yourself. Pre-registering and all."

"It was time," she said, nothing more.

I took off her soft, creamy-white blouse and short black skirt a piece at a time. I gently stroked her silky smooth face; then her arms, legs, the bottoms of her feet. It must have taken us half an hour to get undressed.

"You have the most wonderful touch," she whispered. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

"I won't. I like touching too. Don't you stop."

"Oh God, this is so good! Alexl' she screeched, completely out of character.

I kissed her where I'd touched her with my fingers. She was so warm to the touch. She wore a wonderful perfume, which she told me was Alfred Sung's Forever. I kissed her lips, not forever, but for a long, long time.

We danced some more, held each other, kissed a lot, stroked each other's bodies. We had all the time in the world. God I had missed being with someone like this.

"Now. Please?" one of us whispered finally.

It was definitely time.

I entered Betsey slowly, very slowly. I kept going as far as I could inside her. I was on top, but I held my weight on my forearms. We were moving together and it seemed so effortless and right. She started to hum, no particular song, just sweetness that made me vibrate like a tuning fork.

"I like being with you," I said. "A lot. Even more than I expected."

"Oh, me too. I told you this would be better than chasing after the Mastermind."

"This is so much better."

"Now! Please?"

Chapter One Hundred and Five

Betsey and I fell asleep in each other's arms at some point later that afternoon.

I woke up first and saw it was almost six already. It didn't matter what time it was. Not even what day. I called home, checked in on everybody. They were happy I was out and having F-U-N for a change.