feels,â she murmured luxuriously.
He poured her a glass of wine and set it on the broad, flat edge of the tub. âIâm going to take a shower,â he said, starting to get up.
âDonât go.â
âDonât you want some peace and quiet?â
âI had twenty years of that; now I want you.â She ran a hand across the top of her chest, letting droplets of water run down between her breasts. âEven if we were in the same room for the next twenty, it wouldnât make
up for what we lost.â She shook her head thinking back. âSuch a stupid waste, actually. My fault.â
âOur fault,â McGarvey corrected. âI had a habit of running away, remember?â
âAt least you had a reason,â she flared mildly. âI was just ⦠arrogant. Young, dumb, ambitious. I wanted to be a perfect mother, I really did. I loved Elizabeth with everything in my soul, but I wanted my freedom, too.â She absently touched the base of her neck, her collarbones and shoulders. âI tried Valium, because I felt guilty, but it didnât work for me. Made me sick at my stomach.â She laughed. âThe doctor said that I was tense.â
âIt wasnât much better for anyone else. Itâs time to stop beating yourself up. You were hiding out in the open, and I was hiding underground. You had the tougher assignment.â
âEverybody hated the CIA. My friends used to tell me that kicking you out was the best decision that Iâd ever made. But they were jerks. The kind of people you and I always hated. I would look at our daughter and wonder why they werenât seeing what I was seeing; a perfect little girl who was half you.â She closed her eyes and laid the cool wineglass against her forehead. âI wanted to tell them, but I didnât.â
âWe spent a lot of time being mad at each other,â McGarvey said sadly. âWe both made some dumb decisions.â
âWhen you came back to Washington out of the clear blue sky I thought that youâd come for me. When I found out that the CIA had hired you to dig out Darby and his crowd, I was mad at you all over again.â She was looking inward, regret all over her face. âI threatened to sue you for money, I flaunted myself all over Washington and New York, and I even got word to you that I was thinking about getting married, but nothing worked. Then the CIA comes to see you in Switzerland to offer you a job, and you come running. It wasnât fair.â
McGarvey didnât know what to say. It was a time for going back, and the memories were just as painful for him as they were for her. But maybe necessary, he thought.
She opened her eyes wide to look at him. âDo you know the worst part?â she asked. âWhen I saw you walking down the street it was like someone had driven a stake into my heart. I made a mistake, pushing you away, and here you were back in Georgetown even more inaccessible to me than ever. I had become the kind of person we hated; I had become one of my friends, a pretentious bore.â
âBut here we are, Katy,â he said softly.
She smiled, some of the trouble melting from her face. âItâs going to be okay, isnât it, Kirk?â
âGuaranteed.â
TUESDAY
SIX
IF KIRK MCGARVEY WERE CONFIRMED AS DIRECTOR OF CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE HE WOULD BE ASSASSINATED.
MONTOIRE-SUR-LE-LOIR, FRANCE
N ikolayev walked along the country road into town as the sun reached over the distant line of poplars marking the edge of the wheatfield. He encountered no one this morning. Loneliness, he decided, was a subject on which he could write a very long book. Now there wasnât even a routine to look forward to as he grew older. He could not return to Moscow, nor would he be able to remain here much longer.
Sundayâs edition of the New York Times, Washington Post and Le Monde, carried the same story. Each newspaper had given