Читать книгу The Untamed Hunter - Lindsay McKenna - Страница 8

“You could die on this mission, Maggie. This one is no walk in the park.” Dr. Casey Morrow-Hunter drilled Dr. Maggie Harper with a hard look hoping to convince her of the danger she’d be facing. The world-renowned virologist sat on the other side of Casey’s huge oak desk at the Office of Infectious Diseases.

Maggie raised her eyebrows slightly at her boss’s huskily spoken warning. Sighing, she lifted her long, artistic looking hands. “I risk my life every day in the hot zone. So what’s new?” With a shrug of her shoulders, she gave her a challenging grin. “Tell me what in our business isn’t dangerous, Casey.”

“Touché,” Casey muttered. She tapped her pencil on the top-secret file that was open on her desk as she studied the woman before her. Maggie’s red hair, which was almost always captured in a chignon at the nape of her long neck when she went into the lab to work with deadly viruses and bacteria, flowed across her proud, thin shoulders. Casey had caught Maggie and pulled her into her office for this discussion before the doctor had a chance to suit up for hot zone work scheduled later that morning.

Maggie pulled the tea bag out of her flowery cup and placed it on the white china saucer balanced on her crossed legs. “So,” she murmured, giving Casey a knowing look, “what little special assignment have you cooked up for me this time? You know how bored I get. It must be a field assignment? To Africa?”

Casey smiled at her assistant. Maggie was only five foot three inches tall, but she was a firm one hundred and twenty pounds and an all-around athlete. Despite how small she was, Maggie had a seventeen-hand-high Thoroughbred that she raced in cross country events whenever OID issues didn’t take her weekends away from her. Twelve miles and twenty or so challenging jumps at top speed didn’t faze Casey’s friend of many years. Maggie could break her neck at any time. More than once, Casey has seen her limp into the OID after a brutal weekend of competition. And now, at the thought of a new assignment, Maggie’s hazel eyes inevitably were sparkling with life. She liked living on the edge.

As if that wasn’t enough, Maggie was not only on the OID sharpshooters’ team, she was leader of it, being more than a little handy with pistols and rifles. Which was why Casey had pulled her for this dangerous mission. Maggie thrived on competition and adventure. When in danger, she was coolheaded, and didn’t allow her emotions to interfere with the steps a doctor on a mission for OID often had to take to save her life. More than once, Casey and Maggie had had a good chuckle over Maggie’s trauma-junkie attitude toward life. It served her well in their dangerous field missions to epidemic outbreaks around the world.

Tapping the file, Casey said, “I’d take this one myself, but as you know, I tested positive for pregnancy a week ago.”

Glowing with genuine joy, Maggie sipped her tea. “I know. I’m thrilled for you and Reid. Is he still walking on air?”

Chuckling, Casey nodded. “Yes, and he’s having hissy fits over me working with all these microbes, saying I’ve got to be extra careful now.”

“Yeah, like in our business, we’re sloppy.” Maggie burst into laughter.

The room rang with their black humor that only those in the medical field could truly appreciate. Behind Casey through the slats of the venetian blinds, the sun sent blinding light into her pale pink office, drawing her eye momentarily to the peaceful landscape paintings on three of the four walls. “Oh, he’s like any expectant father. A worrywart,” she murmured softly.

“That’s why you took yourself off the hot zone list.” Maggie nodded and squeezed a tad of lemon juice into her tea. Delicately, she placed the lemon wedge on the side of the saucer. “Wise move. Have you had morning sickness yet?”

Rolling her eyes, Casey said, “I’m only six weeks along. And no, no morning sickness—yet.”

Sitting back in the expensive leather wing chair, Maggie sighed. “You’ve got a wonderful guy. But I think you know it.”

Casey’s eyes grew soft. “Yes, I do. But he knows he’s got a wonderful woman, too.”

Grinning widely, Maggie said, “With that kind of respect for one another, a marriage is sure to last.”

“Humph, unlike these two-to-five-year throwaway marriages I see littering the landscape everywhere I look.”

“Well,” Maggie said, “those people marry too young. They don’t take the time to get to know the other person—or themselves.” She grimaced. “I almost made that mistake back in college. I learned my lesson, believe me.” She took another sip of tea. “I’d rather be single than make the same mistake twice.”

Casey nodded. She knew Maggie had come close to getting married a couple of times in the seven years she’d worked at OID. Both relationships had fizzled. And both times the reason had been that the man wanted to control Maggie, who, being a very modern woman, wasn’t about to kowtow to any man. It had to be an equal partnership or she wasn’t going to even think about getting involved. Too many men still felt it was their right to tell a woman what to do. Fortunately, Maggie had the grit, the confidence in herself to know better. Still, Casey held out hope for the brilliant, courageous medical doctor. Someone would come along who truly appreciated everything she brought to the table.

“So, what’s this dangerous mission?” Maggie inquired.

“This is really dangerous, Maggie. It’s not like you gallop pell-mell down a steep hill to a four-foot jump, believe me.”

Leaning forward, she said, “Tell me more.”

Seeing the glint in Maggie’s eyes, Casey knew she’d chosen the right person for this mission. “Okay, here’s the skinny on it.” She flipped open another page of the top secret file. “I got a call from Perseus last Friday. They are a supersecret government entity that works deep behind the scenes with our national security agencies. Morgan Trayhern, the head of Perseus, asked me for a volunteer from OID because there’s a bioterrorist group active in the United States right now. Some of Morgan’s people just captured one of their top people, a professor who possessed genetically cloned anthrax bacteria. They’ve found out from this professor that the terrorists are trying to get more anthrax because Morgan’s people captured their only supply.”

Maggie nodded and finished off her cup of tea. “We have it here, in our lab. The only material known in the U.S.A.”

“Right, which is why the spotlight has shifted to the OID.” Casey frowned. “Black Dawn isn’t a wasted word on you.”

“No…it’s not.” Maggie set the cup and saucer on Casey’s large desk. “Don’t tell me they’re involved in this?”

“Up to the gum stumps,” Casey muttered unhappily. “They are the slickest, most professional and dangerous bioterrorist threat in the world today.”

“Ouch.” Maggie stood up and slid her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “So, how do we figure into this odd equation?”

“In a very interesting way, believe me,” Casey said admiring the tall, proud way Maggie carried herself. There wasn’t an ounce of spare fat on her frame. Maggie was the picture of bravery and steadiness, in Casey’s opinion, and she would need all of that—and then some—if she took this mission.

“Morgan is setting a trap for them. Well, several traps, to flush the rest of Black Dawn’s operatives in the United States into the open. I’ve approved his plan. What Morgan needs is a decoy from OID to tip their hand.”

“Hmm, sounds fascinating,” Maggie said, slowly walking to the windows and looking out through the blinds. Outside the OID building were long, sloping green lawns and huge live oaks. Maggie often looked out to the huge, centuries-old oak trees when faced with a new challenge at work. The sight of the trees comforted her, as they typified the South, where she was born.

“Well, let’s see if you continue to think that,” Casey said, glancing over her shoulder. She saw Maggie’s oval face grow pensive. Even though she was a risk taker of the first order, when things got serious, Maggie could walk her talk. She wasn’t irresponsible when the chips were down.

Fingering the file, Casey turned another page. “Here’s the plan. Morgan wants to draw Black Dawn out. The only way we can do that is to set up a decoy situation. We know they’ve lost their genetically altered anthrax, because the FBI found it on Kauai, Hawaii. Black Dawn will want more. Morgan will rig a call that we know Black Dawn has bugged, alerting them to the fact that OID is sending a vial of it north, up to the army base in Virginia. That’s where you come in, Maggie. You will be the official courier responsible for getting this vial up there.”

“That’s really interesting,” Maggie said, turning and studying Casey. “And then Black Dawn will descend upon me to get the vial, right?”

“That’s what we’re hoping.” Opening her hands, she added, “Of course, you’ll be well guarded. I don’t want you to think we’re throwing you out to the terrorists like a bone to a dog.”

Chuckling, Maggie walked back and sat down in front of Casey. “I figured as much. So, you need my shooting ability because Black Dawn plays hardball, right?”

“Yes,” Casey said unhappily. “I tried to persuade Morgan to send a policewoman, or a woman from the military, but he argued that Black Dawn might not go for the trap because they’d know a member of OID was not involved. We always send along one of our virologists with any shipments in transit from OID.”

“SOP,” Maggie said. “Standard operating procedure.”

“Yes.” Casey tapped her fingers against the file. “This is going to be very dangerous, Maggie. I don’t like the plan. I understand it, but I don’t have to like it. Putting you in danger is my biggest worry. Black Dawn plays rough. The FBI has promised full cooperation with Perseus on this mission. You’ll be well guarded, but that’s no guarantee. I told Morgan of my concern over this. They can’t just put you in a car with the case containing the vial and tell you to drive from Atlanta to Virginia by yourself. He agreed. So he’s sending his top mercenary with you.”

“Ah, company,” Maggie said with relief. She rolled her eyes. “At least I’ll have company on this trip.”

“You always have a sense of humor,” Casey muttered worriedly.

With a short laugh, Maggie shrugged. “Hey, listen, I’ve been in some pretty dire circumstances when I ride that wild horse of mine. And I’ve felt some serious pressure while trying to win a pistol shooting award for OID. Either way, no matter what the stakes, it’s pressure. I thrive on it. You know that.”

“Well, how’s the mission sound so far?”

“Okay,” Maggie said. Her hazel eyes narrowed. “Frankly, I’d like to flush some of those bioterrorists out of the woodwork. If I can be of help, I’m volunteering. I’m sure the FBI is going to shadow us.”

“They will, but they can’t shadow you so close as to scare off Black Dawn. It’s going to be dicey, Maggie. They could strike at your hotel room, or when you’re driving on the interstate…anywhere. You’ve got to be on full alert a hundred percent of the time.”

“As long as you give me a flak jacket to wear—not that I like those things, they are so uncomfortable—and a Beretta pistol to carry, I’m game.”

Drilling her with a searching look, Casey asked, “You’re sure about this? You do want to take the mission?”

“Why not? What else am I doing, anyway? I’d like to think my life counts for something, and if I can help bag the bad guys, that will make me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile for humanity.”

“You’ve got a big heart, Maggie. I don’t know about your logic, though,” Casey said, scratching her brow nervously.

Reaching across the desk, Maggie shook her finger at Casey, “Listen, big mama hen in the sky, I’ll be fine! I’m an OID sharpshooter, remember? Our team is number three in the U.S. We’ve got a shot—pardon the pun—at the next Olympics. I intend to keep leading the team. I’d love to try for gold.”

Grudgingly, Casey nodded, “I think you’re a twenty-year-old inside that thirty-six-year-old body.”

Laughing heartily, Maggie got up. She was never one to stay still for long. Circling the office, hands stuffed into the pockets of her lab coat, she chuckled. “I’m a big kid at heart. And okay, so I take a lot of chances riding my horse in those events. I know what I’m doing, Casey. I’m good at what I do.” She turned and looked at her supervisor, who was more like a big sister to her. “I’m right for this mission and you know it or you wouldn’t have asked me to volunteer for it.” With a shrug, she said, “Besides, I don’t have a family. I’m single. No kids. I’m the perfect person for it.”

Turning another page in the file, Casey nodded. “You’re right,” she conceded. “Morgan was hoping you’d take it. Black Dawn knows who our best virologists are. You’re listed as number three here at OID. That’s as good as it gets. If Black Dawn knows you’re the courier, Morgan is sure they’ll make a play to capture you and the anthrax vial. There’s no question in his mind.”

“For once,” Maggie said, “my list of credentials will really impress someone.”

With a sour grin, Casey joined in with her laughter. Maggie had graduated from Harvard University at the head of her class. She’d brought millions of dollars in grant money with her when she decided to make the OID her home. In the world of virology, Maggie had more than made her mark. She was known around the world for her abilities and for her pioneering work in the field.

“Well, now that you’ve decided to take the mission, this is your escort.” Casey handed over an eight-by-ten color photo of a man. “He’s one of the top mercs at Perseus. A specialist in undercover work.”

Still smiling, Maggie reached out and took the photo. When she turned it around, she gasped. The photo tumbled out of her hand.

Casey saw Maggie blanch. “What is it?” She watched as the photo fluttered from Maggie’s frozen fingers to the carpeted floor, saw Maggie’s eyes widen with shock and then pain. Automatically, Casey got up and moved around the desk. She picked up the photo. As she stood to her full height and her gaze locked on Maggie’s, she saw tears in her friend’s eyes. But just for a moment. The tears quickly disappeared and Casey saw anger in those hazel eyes, instead.

“What’s going on, Maggie?” She held the photo out to her.

“Oh, Lord,” Maggie croaked. She took a step away from Casey and the proffered photo. “You aren’t serious, are you?” She jabbed a finger at the photo. “Do you know who that is? Do you have any idea?”

Nonplussed, Casey looked helplessly at the photo. “Well, yes…Shep Hunter. He’s Reid’s older brother.”

A strangled sound issued from Maggie’s throat. She wheeled away and moved over to the windows. Jamming her hands into her pockets once more, she muttered defiantly, “Get that bastard’s photo out of here, Casey. I want nothing to do with him! Not a damned thing!”

The obvious hurt, the trembling in her voice, shook Casey. She took a look at the photo once more and then studied Maggie’s drawn profile. Maggie had compressed her full lips into a hard, thin line and suffering was written on every square inch of her features. “Maggie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shock you. I know you told me that you’d known Shep a long time ago…” Casey grimaced. “I guess there’s a lot more to this than you’d told me before?”

Turning coldly, Maggie stared at her across the office, the tension thick. “You could say that.” She saw the shock and concern on Casey’s face. It was obvious she didn’t realize what was going on. “I knew Shep a long time ago,” she said in a whisper. “At Harvard. He was going for a degree in engineering. He was a member of ROTC, which led him eventually into the Air Force, to become a pilot.” She waved her hand in irritation. “But that was after us. After a relationship that lasted my entire freshman year there at the university.”

“Oww,” Casey murmured, beginning to understand. “So, you two had an affair?”

Her shoulders had drawn up in sizzling tension, and Maggie forced herself to try and relax. Her heart was pounding wildly in her breast. She couldn’t control her breathing yet. It hurt to think of Shep. It hurt to remember. Their relationship had ended so many years ago. How was it he could still affect her like this now? With a groan, Maggie turned to Casey. She deserved the full story.

“It was more than that. We fought like cats and dogs, Casey. He wanted to control me. I fought him every inch of the way. We were both independent types. Both bullheaded as hell. He always thought his way was best and my ideas were second best to his. We fought…brother, did we fight. Of course, making up was a lot of fun, too….” She sighed, some of the anger in her voice dissolving. “I’ve never been in such a wildly passionate relationship before or since. He was everything I’d ever dreamed of in a man, but he treated me like an idiot with no brains. He never thought I had an equal idea to his, much less a better one. Of course,” she fumed, “more times than not, my ideas were better than his. But he had so much damned pride he’d never admit it. And on top of that, he was the strong, silent type.”

Casey groaned. “Oh, one of those Neanderthal throwbacks, eh? Pride is a problem with the Hunter men, from where I stand.”

“He was so arrogant,” Maggie said, a hard-edged rasp in her voice. “So full of himself. He always thought he was smarter than everyone else. Maybe he was, over in the engineering department, where he pulled straight A’s and was on the dean’s list. But in my world, he couldn’t shed that egotism and arrogance, Casey. He could never relax with me, let go and just be an ordinary human being who had good days and bad days, who needed someone else. He was such an iconoclast! He reminded me of Mount Everest—always proud, unapproachable, needing no one and nothing.”

Casey moved over to her side after placing the photo back into the file. “So you broke up because he couldn’t really be intimate with you? Is that the bottom line?”

Miserably, Maggie nodded. “Yeah, Case, it was.” She wiped her eyes. “Damn him. After all these years, I still feel so much for him! My heart is stupid. My head knows better now.” She pursed her lips and glared out the venetian blinds. “If he could have said ‘I need you’ just once, Case, I’d have jumped up and down for joy. But he never did.”

“Did you need him?”

“Sure I did,” she said bitterly. “Oh, he liked that. He wanted to feel needed by the weaker sex. Well, weak nothing! I was his equal. And he knew it. And he would never acknowledge that. He treated me like a twit.”

“Ouch,” Casey murmured. “Neanderthals have that proclivity, don’t they?”

Maggie raised an eyebrow. “You ought to know. You married one of them. But I can’t really believe Reid is like Shep. You wouldn’t have married him if he was.”

Casey chuckled. “You’re right. I’d have told him to get lost.”

“Maybe Reid’s different because he’s the youngest of the four,” Maggie said in a hurt voice. “He must be. I mean, I’ve met a lot of men in my life, and Shep Hunter takes the cake for the glacial Neanderthal type, believe me.”

“I met him,” Casey said slowly, “about six months ago. He was coming off a mission for Perseus, and he dropped by to see us here in Atlanta.”

Maggie peered up at her. “And he hasn’t changed one bit, has he?”

Hearing the hurt and pain in her voice, Casey shrugged. “He tried to be friendly when he met me. I could tell he was making an effort.”

“Maybe life’s changed him a little, after all,” Maggie whispered. “With age comes maturity, right? Don’t answer that.”

Casey stood there, in a quandary. “Maggie, if you take this mission, you take Shep, too. It’s a done deal. Everything is set up. Morgan feels that Shep will give you the best chance of surviving.”

Bitterly, Maggie folded her arms against her chest. “Yes, that’s one thing Shep Hunter is very good at—survival. He won’t let you into his heart, that’s for sure. He’d just as soon walk away from a woman who loved him, really loved him. He’s a coward, Casey. Such a coward…”

“Men who can’t be intimate are scared,” Casey agreed softly. “It takes a lot of courage to share our feelings with one another.”

“Women do it at the drop of a hat. You can’t tell me men can’t. It’s just that they won’t. That’s a big difference. They’re made just like us. They have hearts that feel.” Making a strangled sound once more, Maggie turned and said, “Don’t get me started on this. I used to have this argument every day with Shep. I’m surprised our relationship lasted a full year before we agreed, mutually, to walk away from one another.”

Casey could see the pain in Maggie’s large hazel eyes. “You walked away because it was destroying you. I’m sure Shep walked away out of relief because he couldn’t take the pressure of your demands for him to open up and be emotionally accessible to you.”

“You should have been a shrink, Case. Yes, that’s hitting the nail on the head.”

“Well,” Casey murmured, looking back at her desk, where the file lay, “what are we going to do? I won’t be able to change your guard dog for you.”

“I don’t want him on this mission, Casey. Anybody but him. Please…”

Casey studied her friend’s strained features, wishing it wasn’t too late to grant her desperate request.

“Well, Shep, what do you think?” Morgan tried to gird himself for Hunter’s reaction to the mission. More than anyone in his organization, Shep Hunter was a loner. Morgan knew why and understood Shep’s demand for solo missions. Morgan studied the man standing before his desk in the war room of Perseus, which was hidden deep in the Rocky Mountains of Montana. Shep was a giant at six foot six inches tall, and the thirty-eight-year-old ex-air force pilot was one of Morgan’s best mercenaries. Shep was heavy-boned and muscular, and even dressed in jeans, cowboy boots and a denim long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, he looked dangerous. Maybe it was his square face and that jutting, rock-solid jaw that gave Shep such a hard look, Morgan thought. With his short black hair and thick, black eyebrows, which emphasized his frosty blue eyes, Shep Hunter reminded Morgan of a mighty eagle ready to swoop in an attack and gut the quarry he had his sights on.

“Humph,” Shep said as he sat down in the chair across from Morgan’s desk and continued to read the mission proposal rapidly. “OID, huh?”

“Read on…there’s more to this,” Morgan warned him briskly. He was prepared to see Shep refuse the mission once he read page two, which identified the OID virologist who would be on the mission with him. Every time Morgan tried to pair Shep up with a partner, he’d refused. They’d had hellacious shouting matches over the subject from time to time, in this very room. And Morgan knew Shep would walk out and quit rather than be assigned a partner. No, ever since Sarah had died on that fateful mission with him, Shep had closed up tighter than an proverbial clam. He absolutely refused to be partnered up again.

And yet, as he tried to appear at ease as Shep devoured the mission brief, Morgan gathered his argument points as to why, if Shep wanted this mission, the OID decoy must be part of it. He just hoped Shep would take it. No one was better suited for this task than Shep, Morgan knew.

Glancing at the photos of his family on one side of his desk, Morgan felt some of his tension easing. The fraternal twins in Laura’s lap were smiling. How simple and beautiful life could be. He loved his wife and four children more than anything in the world. Looking up at Shep once more, Morgan realized he saw a lot of his former self in him. Morgan had once been as hard and icy as this merc sitting in front of him. It would take a woman who had metal, who had courage to probe the depths of Shep’s fear of intimacy, to help open him up. Morgan acknowledged even today that Laura had had more courage than he’d ever had back then. She’d taken him on—and won. But Morgan was the real winner as far as he was concerned.

When Shep rapidly flipped the page, Morgan steeled himself.

“I’ll be damned.”

Morgan leaned forward in the chair and put his elbows on his desk. He saw surprise in Shep’s normally hard, unreadable features. “What?” he asked tentatively.

“I’ll be damned. I don’t believe this,” he said in a deep tone. He held the file pointing to the photo. “This is the woman I’m supposed to guard? Dr. Maggie Harper? Are you sure?”

Puzzled by Shep’s unexpected reaction, Morgan said, “Yes. Why? Is there a problem?”

With a shake of his head, Shep uncoiled to his full height. Tossing the folder on Morgan’s desk, he turned and walked around the large, silent room with his hands on his hips. “I’ll be go-to-hell, Morgan. Life really is full of surprises and twists.”

Morgan scooped up the file and looked at the photo of the doctor. He didn’t understand Shep’s reaction. He’d never seen Shep act this way about a mission. And Morgan wasn’t sure if Hunter’s response was a good or bad one. Usually, Shep would throw the file at him and tell him to go to hell if there was a partner involved. This time, the man’s face was softening. Morgan could see a glimmer of something warm and tentative in his icy blue eyes. And his mouth, usually a thin line, had the corners turned up in a slight smile.

Stymied, Morgan held up the file. “Clue me in, will you, Hunter?”

Turning, Shep gave his boss a measured look. Though his fingers were draped casually across his narrow hips, tension thrummed through him. He felt his heart beating hard in his chest. And he felt happiness threading through him. The feeling was completely unexpected, but beautiful. It made him breathe in deeply—as if he were coming alive after a long, long sleep. How long had it been since he’d felt anything? Especially happiness? Oh, he’d felt happy for his younger brother, Reid, when he finally met Casey Morrow. And he was overjoyed that Ty and Dev had finally found women they wanted to spend their lives with, too. Yes, everyone in the family was married now—except him. And each time he’d met the woman one of his younger brothers had chosen to marry, he’d felt sad, too. Sad because he knew no one would want him. He was one mean son of a bitch who didn’t give an inch in a relationship. But after what had happened to him, how could he?

That was life, Shep decided. Life had been cruel to him. And torturous. After Sarah…He quickly snapped his mind shut, like a bear trap. Pain suddenly intermingled with the quiet joy pumping through him with each powerful beat of his heart.

“That is Maggie Harper?” he demanded. “She is a graduate of Harvard Medical School, right?”

Floundering because Shep never reacted this way to a potential partner, Morgan quickly flipped to the back page of the mission folder and glanced at her bio. “Yes, Harvard.” Looking up, he narrowed his eyes. “Just what is going on here, Shep? Tell me what I don’t know. Usually you blow up when there’s a partner even mentioned. This time you’re standing over there like a raccoon grinning over a crawdad you just caught.”

Shep smiled a little more widely. “Maggie Harper was my first real relationship. We met in our freshman year at Harvard. What a hellion she was.” He shook his head in fond remembrance. “She had guts to take me on.”

Tentatively, Morgan murmured, “I see….”

Allowing his hands to slip from his hips, Shep moved back toward the desk where Morgan still stood with a confused look on his face. “I’ll take the mission, Morgan.”

Stunned, Morgan held the younger man’s stare. Shep wasn’t one to smile often. He wasn’t exactly smiling now, but the corners of his broad, generous mouth were pulled slightly upward. Morgan saw something else in Hunter’s eyes that he’d never seen before: happiness. And hope. He stared back at the color photo of Maggie Harper.

“Does she…I mean, have you had contact with Dr. Harper—”

Chuckling, Shep said, “Nope, haven’t seen her in—let’s see—almost twenty years. I think I’m going to find this interesting, Morgan. It says she’s on a sharpshooting team. Third best in the U.S. She hasn’t changed at all. She was riding eventing horses before she went to Harvard. Looks like she’s still doing the same thing—taking risks.”

“Well,” Morgan began, completely shocked by Shep’s behavior and his agreement to take the mission, “it’s yours, then.”

Rubbing his hands together, Shep said, “And I can hardly wait to meet Maggie again. This is going to be some homecoming….”