CHAPTER NINE
Monday Morning
5:45 A.M.

Sara opened the bathroom door and stared at Joe. Shaving cream covered his face; except for the area on his cheek he'd already shaven. She only saw his right side, but her eyes scanned his muscular shoulder and arm, stopping at the waistband of the dark gray sweatpants. "You don't need to shave for me." She started to turn.

"I'm not." He attempted to walk past as their bodies touched. "Sorry, I'll let you use the bathroom. I can finish in the kitchen."

"There isn't a mirror in the kitchen. I'm in no hurry. Go ahead and finish." Again, their bodies brushed against each other as she passed him.

*****
When Joe entered the living room, he saw Sara holding his shirt. He walked to her and reached for it. "Sorry. I must've left it on the chair."

She held the bloody sleeve as she searched each of his arms. "Whose blood is this? Was somebody here last night?"

"After you went to bed, I received a call and had to leave." He grabbed the shirt from her. "The two men we were watching tried to flee. We had to stop them."

"Where's Cassie? Did they have Cassie? Was Cassie hurt?" She searched his face for answers.

He stared at the blood on the shirt. "Both men chose to die instead of being questioned and possibly going to jail."

"Nobody chooses to die." Sara stomped toward her room and slammed the door, then opened it and yelled, "If they were alive, maybe they could've led you to Cassie, or at least told you who has her." Again, she slammed the door.

Joe wadded up the shirt and threw it on the couch. "I know. That's why we wanted them alive." He clinched his fists. "It's called suicide by cop," he said loud enough in hopes she would hear. He turned toward the couch. Haven't you ever heard the term? I'm sure she hasn't. Why would she?

When Joe answered a knock on the front door, George asked, "Is Sara up?" There was no answer so he continued, "She found out about last night's set back?"

Joe walked to the front sidewalk, then came back and knocked on Sara's bedroom door. "I'm leaving. George will stay with you. I won't be back until late tonight, so don't wait up." Under his breath he added, "Like you would anyway."

*****
It was mid-morning when Sara answered the telephone. "Hi Dani." She paused, then asked, "Did Joe tell you to call me?"

"I haven't spoken with Joe since late yesterday. Why? What happened?"

"Somehow the men who might've led us to Cassie are dead."

"Sometimes suspects would rather die than take the chance of going to prison. If the people they work for think they've talked, there's a chance they could be tortured and killed even in prison."

"I never considered that. I was only thinking about Cassie."

"Were any of our men hurt?"

"I never thought to ask." Sara doodled on a note pad and was silent.

"Did you and Joe have words about the men dying?"

"I said some things I shouldn't have, but Joe stayed professional."

"It's frustrating when the men do that, isn't it?"

"Yes, but how would you know?"

Dani laughed. "It happens to me often. Sometimes I want to just scream at Matt, but he always stays in control. I can tell when he's angry. On rare occasions he raises his voice, but he always has command of himself."

After pausing a few seconds, Dani added, "Joe's the same. That's how I know he'd never hurt you or Cassie. I have a feeling he's just as frustrated as you that he lost a possible lead."

Sara heard a baby crying in the background.

"Emily's awake. I'm sure she's hungry. I'd like to bring the computer back tomorrow, but it may be Wednesday before I can get away." She hesitated. "I bet if you said you're sorry, Joe would understand. You probably don't even need to say the words. I'm sure he can see it in your face or feel it in your touch."

Sara stared at her hand as she replaced the receiver.

"Do you need to talk with Joe?" George stood beside her and took a sip of coffee. "I'd call him for you."

"He's working. I wouldn't want to interfere."

"I have a feeling he's just as concerned about the situation as you and wouldn't mind the interruption." He removed his cell phone from his pocket and pressed a button.

She reached for the phone. "Please don't. I'm not sure what I'd say."

"Why don't you try telling him how you feel?"

"My feelings are all jumbled up. I'm not sure what I feel."

"Then tell him that. I'm sure he already knows you have conflicting feelings about a lot of things, but I'm sure he'd want you to be honest."

"You're probably right." She paused before she added, "I better think this through while I paint. Can I call him later?"

"We'll paint first." George put away the phone and scanned the cans of paint. "Should I open the lilac or tan?"

"Open the 'Angel Food'; no 'So Soft Lilac'; no." She searched around the room with hands on hips. "How do you feel about blue?" She let out a deep breath. "When we first discussed painting this room, you said you liked blue."

"I do like blue, but this is your living room. What color do you like?"

"GEORGE!" She sat on the floor. "Cassie's been abducted. I don't know where I stand with Joe, or even where I want to stand. My living room's three different colors and I don't know what color I want it to be." As she ducked her head between her knees, her hands and arms covered it. "My life's out of control and I don't know how to get it under control."

George sat beside her and took her hand. "You get your life under control one step at a time. The Task Force will help you find Cassie. I'm sure you and Joe will work out the problems with your relationship once Cassie's safe. As for the living room, you and only you can decide what color you want it. Right now, all you need to concentrate on is the living room."

"Will you take me to Dad's store so I can get blue paint? The kitchen will look great in 'Angel Food' and the curtains will match. I think the hallway will look good painted 'Angel Food', don't you?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Blue it is. Let's go."

*****
As George opened the can of blue paint, his cell phone rang. After he listened, he handed Sara the phone. "It's Joe. Do you have something you want to say to him?"

After taking three deep breaths, she asked, "Were any of the guys hurt last night?"

"Only a few bumps and bruises."

She wished he'd said more. "Good." As she tried to muster up the courage to say she was sorry, she paused. "Joe, I ...."

"We'll talk when I get back tonight," he interrupted. "I'm needed right now."

"That's fine." A feeling of relief overcame her. Now she'd have more time to think about what she wanted to say. She handed the phone back to George. "I didn't say very much."

He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. "It was a good start. Now let's paint. Where do you want to start?"

She pointed toward the only wall they hadn't painted. "This wall will look good in 'Peppermint Vinca'."