Cletus changed cars, and ruminated over the fact that he may have been spotted by his target. The patrol car could have been coincidence, but in his line of work, it didn't pay to ignore even the slightest hint. He drove past the policeman's house again, and parked further down the street.

Phillip had been on the phone to him again, and it was getting to be a nuisance. The man sat behind his big desk on his fat ass, and imagined he was pulling all the strings. Cletus doubted if Phillip had ever even been a field agent let alone having done any wet work himself.

When the taxi pulled up in front of the house, he gave a little fist pump. He was correct in thinking the Agent would be leaving. The two men came out of the house, and he watched them shake hands, exchange some words and then the Agent got into the cab and it left. The policeman stood on the front step watching it go, and still watching after it was out of sight.

Cletus wondered if it was possible he was made again. Impossible. He'd switched cars, stayed well away from the target's house - yet . . .

The car pinged on my radar. I went back inside and quickly climbed out the back window and onto the roof with my binoculars. Lying flat on the shingles behind the chimney, I peered at the vehicle down the block. Sure enough, a figure could be made out in the driver's seat. Slipping back down and through the window, I called the station and asked for the patrol that did the drive by the previous night.

They gave me the licence and make of car, and I thanked them and sat down to think. Is there a team watching? Did he just change cars? What are they waiting for? I was tempted to call Kristen again, but I didn't want to worry her - or look like a fool. That business with sticking out her tongue at me left me puzzled. Was she actually flirting? Was she making some kind of attempt to make me jealous? "Maybe," I said to my empty kitchen, "she was going through some kind of act to erase what happened." What the hell would I know?

I got up and began getting dressed for work. Women were just too damned complicated. It was easier matching wits with people like my current watcher.

I left the house and drove my car downtown to the station. I didn't see the other car following, and that set off more thinking. Is he going through my house right now? Should I double back and see? A blaring horn indicated the stop light had changed, and I just continued on to work.

******

Kristen busied herself with assembling the recommendations she was proposing to her client, jogging the sheets and assembling them into the stylish snap-lock folders that were her trademark. A month and one half had gone into researching the benefits her client could reap if he followed her plan. If he didn't, it meant he'd paid some serious dollars for nothing.

She slipped the folder into a padded envelope and hand lettered the client's name and address, then phoned for an express pickup. The movement outside her window made her turn and lean toward the glass. She blurted an exclamation and ran to the door in time to see the man leave her driveway, jump into a black van and speed off.

Immediately she dialled Ralph's number at the station, fingers tapping impatiently.

"Detective Standing."

"There was a man outside my house and when I went to the door he ran to a van and drove off."

Her delivery had me shouting "Whoa!"

"This is going too far, and I want something done about it."

"Kristen, calm down a sec. What happened?"

"I told you!"

"No, you fired a string of words I could hardly understand. Take a breath and tell me again - slowly."

I was on the line to Passmore on my own phone, keeping Kristen on the office phone while we spoke.

"If it was a van, Tom, then they are working a team, because our guy was back in a different car this morning. Have you seen anyone tailing you?"

"No, but they may be wary of engaging the FBI, at least at the moment. Is Miss Howard alright?"

"I think so, she's on my other line. Anything you want to tell her?"

"You can tell her I'm coming by to check out her house again - and then I'll be by to check your apartment."

"You think he was there to bug her place?"

"We'll see."

******

"I didn't find anything, and your place is clean too. He might have just been checking to see if she was in." Passmore looked doubtful over his own words.

"I think we need to formulate some kind of offence here, she was crying, I'm sure of it, and I don't like how this is all playing out."

"What are you suggesting, that we brace them somehow?"

"Why not? I can have a patrol pick one of them up the next time they're seen."

"On what charge?"

"Shit, Tom, I don't know! Loitering? Stalking? Who cares? We just get them in and find out what the hell is going on. I'm worried for Kristen."

"You'd better take a breath and rethink that strategy, my friend. Once this is public there's no knowing how it will go. Remember all those agencies I mentioned? We could all be road kill."

I must have pouted because he grinned and gave me a slap on the shoulder.

"Do you think she'd be up for another meeting?"

"Buggered if I know. I suppose I could ask, why, what have you got in mind?"

"Maybe we could pull a Crawford, and lure these guys out of the public eye."

"Pull a- are you suggesting the three of us disappear? I'm a cop here, that's going to stir a little bit of curiosity--"

"Not the three of us. Miss Howard and me."

I boggled. "What?"

"See if she'll go for a meeting and we'll take it from there. Call me."

I called into the station and told the Desk Sergeant, I would be out cleaning up loose ends on my in basket cases. I asked him to make it sound efficient should the Captain ask about me. Passmore had thrown me a curve with his wild idea, and I waited a beat, wondering if it was just the idea, or the idea of he and Kristen. Christ, what had come over them that night? Too much booze? If only I believed that.

I decided to ask her personally rather than phone again . . . admit it Standing, you want to see her.

Word count to this point - 9932