Saving Faith By: David Baldacci

from many open cases lay across her desk and small conference table.

They were wedged onto her shelves, had mutated into piles on her floor

and even found their way onto the couch where she often slept, far away

from her children.

But for her live-in nanny and the nanny’s teenage daughter, Reynolds

didn’t know how she could possibly keep a halfway normal life for her

kids. Rosemary, a wonderful woman from Central America who loved the

children nearly as much as Reynolds did and was fanatical about keeping

the house clean, the meals cooked and the clothes laundered, was

costing Reynolds over a quarter of her entire salary and was more than

worth every penny. But after the divorce was final it would be very

tight. And Reynolds’s ex would not be paying any alimony. His work as

a fashion photographer, though lucrative, came in quick bursts followed

by long periods of deliberate inactivity. Reynolds would be lucky if

she didn’t end up paying him alimony. And child support from him,

while she would seek it, would be a joke. The man may as well have had

“deadbeat dad” engraved on his forehead.

She looked at her watch. The FBI lab was working on the videotape

right now. Because the existence of her “special” was unknown within

the FBI except for very select personnel, any lab work that was

required was supposed to be sent over under a dummy case name and file

number. It would be nice to have separate laboratory facilities and

personnel, but that would entail enormous expense that just didn’t

figure in the Bureau’s budget. Even elite crime fighters had to live

within the allowance Uncle Sam gave them. Normally a liaison agent at

the main agency would work with Reynolds’s team to coordinate any lab

submissions and findings with Reynolds. However, Reynolds didn’t have

time for normal channels. She had personally delivered the tape to the

lab and with her superior’s blessing it had received a very high

priority.

After meeting with Anne Newman she had gone home, cuddled for as long

as she could with her sleeping kids, showered, changed and driven right

back to work. All the time she had been thinking of that damn tape. As

if in response to her thoughts, the phone rang.

“Yes?”

“You better come over,” said the man. “And just so you know, it’s not

good news.”

CHAPTER 13

FAITh AWOKE WITH A START. SHE LOOKED AT HER WATCH. It was nearly

seven. Lee had insisted that she get some rest, but she hadn’t

expected to be out so long. She sat up, feeling thick headed Her body

was aching and when she swung her legs over the side of the bed, she

felt a little sick to her stomach. She still had her suit on, but she

had slipped off her shoes and pantyhose before lying down.

She got off the bed, padded into the adjoining bathroom and looked at

herself in the mirror. “God,” was all she could manage to say. Her

hair was matted flat, her face a mess, her clothes filthy and her brain

felt like cement. Such a pleasant way to begin the day.

She turned on the shower and stepped back into the bedroom to undress.

She had taken off her clothes and was standing naked in the middle of

the bedroom when Lee knocked on the door.

“Yes?” she said anxiously.

“Before you get in the shower, we need to do something,” Lee said

through the door.

“Is that right?” The odd tone of his words sent a chill up her spine.

She quickly put her clothes back on and stood rigidly in the middle of

the room.

“Can I come in?” He sounded impatient.

She went over and edged open the door. “What is-” Faith almost

screamed when she saw him.

The man looking at her was not Lee Adams. This man had a buzz cut, the

hair dyed blond and damp, a matching short beard and mustache, and he

wore glasses. And instead of dazzling blue, his eyes were brown.

The man smiled as he watched her reaction. “Good, it passed the

test.”

“Lee?”

“We can’t quite walk past the FBI as ourselves.”

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