Chasing Rainbows

Chasing Rainbows Part 2

1980

During summer vacations, Portia would allow her son to stay with each of us uncles for a week or so. Tony would take him to points of interest in DC, including NSA headquarters. Jeff would take him on jaunts around the world - Quinn had had his passport since he was five years old and his parents had taken him to West Africa to meet Portia's godmother, Viscountess Creighton, and her husband. And when it was my turn, I would take him to Langley, showing him where his father had worked.

I loved my nephew Quinton. He was courteous, affectionate, smart and brave - everything my stepchildren would never be.

Johanna's children, on the other hand - it shouldn't have been their fault that they were whiny and obnoxious. I'd tried to make myself like them, but I couldn't, and so I made more allowances for them than I ever would have for a child of my own.

My relationship with them didn't warm as they grew older. Any overtures I made were rebuffed until I finally stopped beating my head against a stone wall.

Shortly after he turned sixteen, Billy grew dissatisfied with home-schooling and rebelled.

"He's so much like his father," Johanna wept. He did have Bill Harrington's straight nose and the cleft in his chin, but if that wasn't what she meant, I had a feeling she was wrong.

I volunteered to use what pull I had to get him into Phillips Exeter, the prep school all Sebring males attended. As I should have expected, both he and his mother rejected my offer.

"I'm not a Sebring, Uncle Bryan." The way he called me 'Uncle Bryan' was so different from the way Quinn said it. "I'll go to the school I choose."

After all these years, it still hurt to be shut out like that. I turned on my heel and left them to hash it out between them.

He finally chose the military prep school his father had gone to, but after a very short time, Billy decided that wasn't for him, and he came home. His grades weren't bad, although not as good as Johanna thought, and he wound up going to a local private school where the parents' ability to pay the tuition was the most important criteria.

Libby grew into a very pretty girl who had her mother's looks, although beyond that, I knew very little about her, not even what rock star's poster she had up on her wall. With Billy no longer being home-schooled, she refused to stay at home any longer herself.

All the schools that Libby was willing to consider had long waiting lists. However, she didn't mind accepting Sebring help.

Portia happened to be visiting us, a very rare occurrence. "I can pull some strings to get Libby into Tidewater, if you like."

"Tidewater?"

In spite of herself, Libby seemed impressed. "Oh, Mom, it's a really prestigious school in Massachusetts!"

"Massachusetts?"

"It's an all-girl preparatory school. I attended Tidewater when I was Libby's age," Portia said.

"No. It's out of the question."

"But Mom, you let Billy go out of state... "

"Only for a few weeks. Besides, he's a boy, and Ulysses S. Grant Military Academy was in Delaware. Massachusetts is so far... "

But Libby wheedled and pleaded and finally got her way.

That lasted a few months longer than Billy's foray into military school. Libby was sent home for sneaking out to dally with a boy from a nearby town.

"I love him, Mom!" Her cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes flashed.

"Nonsense! You're too young to know what love is! Now tell me what he did to you!"

Libby threw a horrified look my way. What child wanted their sex life discussed in front of a stranger. "Nothing! Mom, nothing, I swear! He respects me!"

"A likely story. Get your coat. I'm taking you to see Dr. Lumley."

I felt sorry for Libby. She looked totally confused. "Why?"

"To make sure you're still a virgin!"

"Johanna, do you know the time?" I tried to be the voice of reason. "Lumley isn't in his office."

"It doesn't matter, Bryan! He delivered her, and he'll see her if I ask him!"

"You don't believe me?" Libby's face crumpled.

"Enough, Johanna." For once I stepped in. "Libby has said nothing went on between her and the boy."

"Stay out of this, Bryan!"

"I'm afraid I can't. Not this time. Don't you see that if you do this, Libby will lose all respect for you?"

"This is none of your affair!"

Before I lost my temper and snapped at her, the phone rang, and I picked it up. "Sebring."

"It's Market, sir. Sorry to call you at home. Your brother's in trouble."

"Jeff?" Of course it would be Jeff. Tony didn't go into the field. "How bad?"

"We need you here to coordinate the effort to get him back to neutral territory."

"Have you spoken to Edwards?"

"He's on his way here also."

"Good. I'm leaving now, but he should get there before I do. Have him get started on the... " I lowered my voice and gave him specifics.

"Yes, sir."

"I have to go, Johanna. Listen to me: trust Libby." I left, putting every thought but how to rescue my brother out of my head.

I broke all speed limits getting there. I wished I could ask Tony to come to Langley, just to be nearby, but I couldn't.

However, I'd no sooner sat at my desk than he called.

"I just heard. I'm on my way."

"But... "

"If there's anything you need from NSA, I can get it from your office."

"Tony... " I couldn't tell him it wasn't necessary. If Jeff's cover was blown, I'd need all the help I could get. And Jeff was his brother too, after all. "Thanks, big brother."

"Bryan, I know you'll get him out of this mess."

"Thanks." I hung up and got back to work.

I didn't realize how much time had passed until I felt a pair of strong hands kneading the knots out of my shoulders and a warm breath tickling my ear.

"You're a mass of tension, little brother."

"Tony," I breathed. "Thanks." I forced myself not to lean back into his touch.

"Any news?"

"Not yet. I've got you set up at the desk in my outer office."

With a final squeeze he stepped away from me. "I'll get started then."

For three days straight I was at my desk. When there was nothing Tony could do, he made sure there was plenty of hot coffee and sandwiches available.

And then Ludovic called from their place in Adams Morgan. Jeff was home. "He looks like something the cat dragged in, but he's alive."

"His cover?"

"Intact. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Ludo didn't have much more to tell than that.

"We'll be there as soon as we can, Ludo." I hung up and turned to the others in my office who waited tensely to hear the outcome. "Jeff is back. His cover wasn't blown."

Collective breaths of relief blew out, and they left my office, leaving only Tony and me.

"I'll call my people and tell them to stand down."

"Good idea."

I put in a call to Ben Monroe, who was heading up the black ops team that would gear up to go in and take out the ones responsible. "We've got Jeff back. I'm scrubbing the mission."

"Got it, boss. I'm glad to hear he's home." He hung up.

"You're going to Adams Morgan?" Tony was lingering in the doorway.

"Yes."

"I'll go with you."

"I'm driving."

He just nodded and followed me down to my car. I did the seventeen-minute drive in ten minutes.

Jeff was battered but alive, and Ludo was fussing over him. "How badly are you hurt? Do you need to see a doctor?"

"That hot bath helped a lot." Jeff was wearing a pair of silk pajamas that clung damply to his shoulder and hip. There were hearts and cupids all over them, and I shook my head. Jeff saw and gave a tired grin. "A Valentine gift from Ludo."

"You realize this means Jeff really loves you, don't you, Ludo?" Johanna had never gotten me anything like that.

"I... I... know." His lower lip trembled, and he turned to take his lover in a careful embrace. "I... Bloody hell, Jefferson, I almost lost you!"

"Hey, hey! You'll never lose me. I'm all right, pet." Jeff wrapped his arms around him, but then sagged in his arms. "I'm just so tired... "

"Bed! You need to go to bed! Do you want me to call a doctor?"

"No. I've already seen one. Nothing's broken. Thanks, Bart. You're a real mate."

I hadn't noticed the craggy-faced, blue-eyed blond who stood in the shadows.

"Bryan, will you take care of... " Ludo gestured toward him and began to lead Jeff to their bedroom.

I recognized 'Bart' from a picture I'd had taken by an officer in London years before. He was older, but there was no mistaking him.

Bart Freeman, Folana Fournaise's second-in-command.

"'ve got to go now," he mumbled, looking uncomfortable.

Before he could take a step toward the door, I grabbed his hand and gripped it tightly. "Thank you, Bart."

"Yes," Tony said. "Thank you, Mr. Freeman. If our sister and parents were here, they would thank you too."

"You know who I am?" He seemed surprised and embarrassed.

"We know," I assured him. "We may be desk jockeys, but we know. If you ever need anything... "

"Oi, mate, that's good of ya, but nah, your government don't owe me nothin'."

"My government might not owe you anything, but my family does."

"Ta, I'm sure, but the Duchess'd skin me if I screwed up badly enough to need anyone's help but hers."

"All right, but remember, the offer stands." I let his hand go, and he ducked his head and gave me a lopsided grin. I could see why Jeff had once been attracted to him.

Tony shook his hand as well, and then Bart Freeman was gone.

"God, this has been a long seventy-two hours."

"Yes." I scrubbed my hand over my face. "We'd better be going ourselves."

"You're dead on your feet."

"I'm fine. Come on. I'll drop you off at home."

"No, that won't be necessary. Thanks all the same. One of my men can do that. Little brother... "

I gave a tight smile. I couldn't bear to hear him call me that, not when I knew he wasn't going to waste any time putting distance between us.

"Take care of yourself, Tony. I'll see you." Although unless a national crisis occurred, it probably wouldn't be until the following Christmas, when we'd accompany Portia to her husband's grave at Arlington.

"Yes." He rested his hand on the back of my neck for a second, and I couldn't prevent a shiver. He dropped his hand and stepped away from me. "I'll see you, Bryan."

It was mid-afternoon when I arrived at home. The house was quiet when I entered it. I climbed the stairs and walked down the hall toward my bedroom. All I wanted to do was sleep.

The door to the bedroom I'd shared once with Johanna opened.

"You're finally home. Things are a shambles here!"

"Jeff is fine, thanks for asking."

She flushed. "I'm glad to hear that." She chewed on her lip. "Libby's locked herself in her room. She's been there since... She won't come out."

"You took her to Lumley."

"I had no choice."

"Johanna, she had to be humiliated and mortified."

"You think you know my daughter?"

I glanced at Libby's door. "We can't talk out here." I walked into the bedroom.

She followed me in, closing the door firmly behind her.

"Where's Billy?"

"I sent him to stay with Bill's parents for the weekend. He doesn't need to be exposed to this sordid... How could you persuade me to allow my child to attend such a place?"

"I had nothing to do with this, Johanna. Libby did all the persuading, and you went along with it." As she usually did.

"It was your sister's abominable idea. This was a family matter, and if she'd simply stayed out of it... "

"You're blaming Portia?" I raised an eyebrow. "All she did was attempt to use her influence to help her niece."

My wife's mouth tightened. Since Portia wasn't available, it seemed I was the most likely target for her ire.

"As for Tidewater, it's an exceptional school."

"Exceptional? Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"It has an excellent reputation and a very high standing in the academic world."

She huffed. "Look what happened to my daughter!"

"Nothing happened to her, Johanna," I said wearily.

"We know that now! But when she came home... "

"I'm not going to get into a shouting match with you over this. Libby chose to go to Tidewater, and you chose to let her." I turned on my heel and left the room. I thought I saw Libby's door was opened a crack, but I wasn't in any mood to give it any consideration. I jogged down the stairs. Johanna was close behind. I picked up my car keys from the table by the front door. "I'll be back in a few hours."

"You just got home!"

"Well, I'm going out again."

"Bryan, if you walk out that door... "

"You'll do what? Make me sleep on the couch? Face it, Johanna. There really isn't much you can threaten me with."

"I can... "

"Take away the children? At this point, they wouldn't care, and do you really think that I would either?"

Her face became pale. I shook my head and let myself out.

I drove to Harry's Hat, a small place I knew of in McLean, where I'd go sometimes for lunch. No one knew how it got its name, or even why. It was the replication of a plantation house. In the rear of the ground floor was a small restaurant that offered excellent food. A classic mahogany bar with a brass foot rail and full length mirror behind the bar was in the front of the building. On the upper floors were discreet bedrooms for anyone wanting to stay for a few hours or a few days.

I'd never taken advantage of those rooms, although I had come very close once. It had been after I'd had to select a tiny white coffin.

His name was Frank Holloway. He was a blond, blue-eyed officer from the Houston office, who'd been temporarily assigned to Langley.

I didn't do anything. I couldn't claim to be noble, couldn't say that the vows I'd exchanged with my wife had kept me faithful in that instance.

The truth of the matter was that it would have felt as if I were betraying the one I loved.

The bartender looked up as I entered. "Mr. Sebring! Good afternoon, sir. We don't usually see you here on a Sunday."

"Hello, Joe. I'm surprised to see you here myself."

"Just filling in for a friend."

"I thought I'd stop by for a drink."

"Yes, sir. Your usual?"

"Make it a double." I took a seat at the bar and waited while he poured me a glass of Glenlivet neat. I'd consider this a celebration of Jeff's safe return to the fold, his head bloody but unbowed.

A young man came from the direction of the restrooms. He nodded at me and crossed to the corner where an upright piano stood, sat before it, and began to play. After a few bars, I recognized it. 'I'm Always Chasing Rainbows.'

How apropos.

"Another double, Mr. Sebring?"

"Sure, why not, Joe?"

But the Glenlivet wasn't helping. I needed to talk to someone. Jeff was no doubt being fussed over by Ludo, and Tony didn't need to hear about this. That left Portia.

There was a pay phone by the restrooms. I went back there, put in a coin, and called my sister.

"Mann residence."

"Quinn. Hi. It's... "

"Hi, Uncle Bryan! How are you?"

"Fine," I lied.

"We just got back from our ride, and Ludo called to give us the good news. I'm glad Uncle Jeff is okay!"

"So am I. Quinton, is your mother in?"

"Yes. She's upstairs changing."

"Does she have anything planned for this afternoon? I'd like to come over."

"No. I'm going to the movies with Lacey Richardson, but Mother doesn't have any plans."

"All right. Would you tell her I'll be there in about twenty minutes?"

"Sure. Uncle Bryan? Is everything all right?"

My stepchildren would never have asked. They wouldn't have cared.

"Everything is fine, Quinn," I lied again. "Tell me, why does the name Lacey Richardson sound familiar?"

"We've competed in a few shows together. Listen, I can cancel the movies- "

"No. That isn't necessary. You go ahead and have fun. What are you going to see?"

"'The Black Stallion.'"

A horse movie. I should have known. "I'll let you go then. Enjoy the movie."

"Thanks, Uncle Bry. Bye."

I hung up and went back to the bar. I settled my tab, leaving him a good tip. "So long, Joe."

He studied me for a moment. "Drive carefully, Mr. Sebring."

"I will." I went out to my car and drove to Great Falls.

A stocky, older woman opened the door when I got there. Alyona Novotny had been part of my sister's household since shortly before Quinn's birth. "Mr. Bryan. Young Quinton tells us you were coming. Is good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Alyona. How have you been?"

"Arthritis pinches at my joints, but otherwise, I am good." She took my coat.

"I heard that Gregor has been given a promotion." Her brother had been in the FBI for the past eight years.

"Yes. We are very proud of him. He do good for boy from Czech family. Come, Mrs. is in back parlor."

"I know the way, Alyona. You needn't trouble yourself."

She looked me over carefully. "I make you something to eat."

"I really don't... "

"Is no trouble. You too skinny." She left before I could object.

For the first time in days, I laughed, and I went to find my sister.

Portia met me in the doorway. "Bryan. You're right on time. As usual." She hugged me and kissed my cheek. I realized she could smell the alcohol on my breath, but she didn't say anything about it. "It's good to see you."

"Same here, little sister." I kissed her cheek.

"Ludovic called to let me know that Jefferson is all right."

"Quinn told me. I'm sorry, Portia. I didn't even think to call you."

"This has been a bad week for you. Don't worry about it. You've had enough else to worry about."

"Did Johanna call you?"

"No. Should she have?" She stroked my cheek and gave me a concerned look. "You've been drinking."

"Yes." I should have realized that she wouldn't let it ride.

"That's unusual for you, and especially for a Sunday afternoon, Bryan. Tell me what's bothering you." She crossed to the loveseat and gestured beside her.

I sat down next to her and poured out the events of the past week, concluding with the condition in which I'd found my household.

"She did that to her own daughter? Oh, Bryan, I hate to criticize your wife, but that really wasn't a smart thing to do!"

"I know. If I'd been home, I would have stopped her."

"I thought my offer to get Libby into Tidewater would help, but it seems I've made things more difficult for you." She sighed. "I'm sorry."

"No more than usual, and it's not your fault, Portia. Johanna blames everyone for Libby's behavior except Libby."

"I can understand her going out after hours. We all did it."

That didn't surprise me. I'd dated one of her sorority sisters who had also been at Tidewater with her, and she'd told me as much. 'Breezy gets away with murder,' she'd continued, not realizing I could detect the resentment in her tone. I didn't like the fact that she'd gossiped about my sister; I'd cut short our date and never called for another one, even after word got back to me that she wouldn't have been averse.

"Well, at least you had the sense not to get caught."

"Yes. It was... "

Alyona Novotny tapped on the door. "I am not interrupting, I hope?"

"Not at all, Alyona."

"I make sandwich for Mr. Bryan. I make with black Russian bread. Will put meat on your bones."

"Thank you, Alyona." I accepted the plate, balanced it on my knees, and took a bite. Only then did I realize how hungry I was.

She smiled in approval as I went to work on the roast beef sandwich. "I make some tea now." And she left the room.

"You were saying?" I asked after I finished a mouthful.

"I was going to say that it was very sloppy of Libby. I wonder if she wanted to get caught."

"I wondered that myself. But why?"

"To hurt you?"

I gave a short laugh. "I don't matter enough in her life."

"Oh, Bryan." She squeezed my knee. "Maybe you mean more to her than she even realizes."

"I doubt it." I was revealing more than I'd ever intended, but somehow, since I'd started, I couldn't stop. "Johanna's never let me get close enough to her children to mean more than someone who has dinner with them on occasion. For the longest time I couldn't figure why they seemed to keep me at an arm's length. Then I overheard her mother tell them, 'Behave, or he'll leave your mommy. You'll be without a father again, and it will all be your fault!'"

Portia spat out a word I'd never heard her use, that I didn't even know she knew. She was furious. I wanted to kick myself for talking too much.

"I shouldn't have dumped this on you, Portia. Please don't mention this to anyone."

"Not even Tony?"

"Especially not Tony."

"Bryan!"

"Portia, Tony wanted me to be married in the worst way. If he knew how miserably I've failed in my marriage... " My hands clenched on what little was left of the sandwich, leaving it a doughy mass, and I put it down on the plate and waited to hear how she would respond to that.

"Oh, Bryan, Johanna isn't the one, is she?"

I met her eyes, unable to pretend I didn't know what she was talking about. "No."

She reached across the seat and hugged me. "I promise this will just be between the two of us."

"Thanks, little sister." I swallowed and scrambled for another topic of conversation. "So how is Quinn doing? Has he started packing yet?" He had been selected to be a member of the US equestrian team for the Summer Olympics in Moscow.

She permitted the change of subject. "He's so proud and so excited."

"I can imagine." We were all proud of him. "How do you feel about letting him go over there on his own?"

"I think he deserves to have that experience. And I'll be there when he takes his position at the start of the cross country event."

We were all going to be there, Tony and Jeff and I.

"I will be there also, with Gregor. We not miss our boy bringing home a medal!" Alyona's younger brother had joined her as part of Portia and Nigel's household after Quinton was born; he was virtually another uncle to Quinton. She glowered at the condition of my sandwich. "You not eat enough, Mr. Bryan." She placed the tray that held the tea things, including a little pot of honey, on a coffee table and picked up the plate.

"Thank you, Alyona."

She looked at the mangled remains on the plate and left the room, muttering under her breath.

Portia handed me a cup and saucer.

I cleared my throat. "I have no doubt they'll bring home the gold. Jack Be Nimble is a good mount."

"I'm not sure Quinton will be able to take him. He's been favoring his off hind leg lately according to the team's vet."

"Who will Quinn ride then?"

"He's been working with Quasimodo."

"That palomino you bought him after... er... in '78?" I was reluctant to bring up Nigel's death.

"Yes. He's a good dressage horse, and Coach thinks he'll do fine on the jumps of the steeplechase, if they start off with him. Sam Barton's and Harry Tremain's mounts are strong jumpers, and they'll be able to make up whatever time is lost.""

"I'm glad Quinn has a backup plan." I concentrated on fixing my tea the way I liked it.

"He usually does."

I raised my eyes to hers. There was a proud smile on her lips. "Will he run into Sidorov, do you think?"

"Perhaps, if they have him handling security at the Olympic Village."

"Did you ever meet him, Portia?"

"Not officially, and not face to face."

"Oh? Now that's a story I'd like to hear."

"You only think you do. Oh, very well. We were in Berlin at the time, and Nigel was sent a message to meet one of his contacts. I learned after he left that it was a ruse, the KGB intended to grab him."

"Don't tell me you followed!" I could picture my sister slipping through the streets of Berlin in the dark of the night, and I turned cold.

"Of course I'd followed. I knew where he was going and got there ahead of him. I was in the shadows, behind Sidorov. I had my little Smith & Wesson Centennial with me, and I pressed it against his spine. 'This is a small gun,' I whispered in his ear, 'but it can put a very large hole in your spine.'"

"Did he threaten you?"

"Of course not. He's too much a gentleman for that."

"So he just stood there and let Nigel get away."

"He didn't have much choice. Afterwards, we'd trade coded barbs." She laughed softly. "He was a clever man. I liked him."

"Did Nigel know?"

"That I liked him? I never kept secrets from my husband, Bryan."

"That you'd been there that night."

Her smile... if someone had ever smiled at me that way, I'd have moved heaven and earth to be with him.

"You never saw Sidorov's face?"

"No. I've seen photos, though."

"I met him once." I wasn't going to tell her it had been just before the Berlin Wall was erected. She'd had a miscarriage and lost her first baby, and the family had wanted to make sure she was all right. Jeff was already in Europe, and Tony would have gone as well, but he'd been unable to leave the country at the time, so I'd flown over in his place. "The photos didn't do him justice. He was a handsome man."

"Oh?"

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Just... oh. Did you enjoy meeting him?"

"We played chess."

"And who won?"

"It was a draw."

"Was he the one, Bryan?"

"'One' what?" This time it took a minute or so for me to catch up with her thoughts. "Oh, that one." She wouldn't be upset if the person I'd fallen in love with was male, but I wondered how she would react if she knew who that male was. I couldn't see her taking it well. After all, Tony hadn't. "No, little sister. Sidorov wasn't the one."

Things between Johanna and I remained tense.

In spite of Dr. Lumley's findings - or maybe because of them - she took a surprisingly rigid stand and insisted on sending Libby to Mary Magdalene Academy, a Catholic girls' school that she selected herself, where the nuns still wore habits, frowned on makeup, and insisted the girls wear uniforms whose skirts had hems that fell a few inches below the knee. Libby wasn't happy there, but she only had a few months of her junior year left, and then her senior year, and for a change, her mother stood firm; Libby had no choice.

But Libby no longer called her mother 'Mom.'

When we pulled out of the Summer Olympics because of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, the athletes denied the opportunity to represent our country were disappointed, to say the least. Portia took Quinn with her on a wine-buying trip to France to ease that disappointment, and they spent the summer there. She needed to remain a few weeks longer to conclude the sale, but Quinn had to return home for school. He was staying with us until it was time for him to start the fall semester at Philips Exeter, and while he still regretted the missed opportunity of the 1980 Olympics, there was a bounce in his gait and an expression on his face that hadn't been there before.

I came to a halt in the doorway of my study. The thick, plush carpeting had muffled my footsteps, and neither occupant realized I was a silent observer of their tableau.

"Don't tell me you're being coy, Cousin Quinton." Libby pouted as he removed her hands from around his neck. Her lipstick was smeared, and there was red on Quinn's mouth.

"I'm not being coy, Libby. I'm just more selective about who I choose to make out with."

"Have you ever even made out with anyone?"

"Yes. And... she... was very good."

I noticed the slight pause before the 'she', but Libby didn't. She gave a screech and struck out at him, her nails curled like talons, but Quinn caught her arms with casual ease and held her away from him.

"Someone should have spanked you years ago."

"Maybe you'd like to try?" she taunted.

"I don't think so." His voice was amazingly cool for a fifteen year old, but then he had the blood of Portia and Nigel Mann in his veins.

"Are you going to tell Johanna? You'd better not! She won't believe you anyway."

"No, but Uncle Bryan will."

"Why should he? Everyone knows teenage boys want any girl they can get their hands on." But she looked uneasy.

"He'll believe me because he knows me; he knows I wouldn't do something like that." He let her go and started to turn. "Don't try to kiss me again, Libby."

I quickly backed away from the door, then approached again, this time whistling through my teeth so I would be heard.

"Libby. You don't usually come to my study. Can I help you with something?"

Her eyes seemed overly bright. She flushed, bit her lip and cut a glance toward Quinn, then shook her head. "Johanna just wanted to know if you'd like to come to dinner now."

"Thank you. Tell her I'll be right along. Quinn, if you wouldn't mind waiting a moment?"

Libby lingered, and I raised an eyebrow. She turned on her heel and flounced out.

"I'm sorry this happened under my roof, Quinn. How long has she been pestering you?"

"This was the first time." He raised his head and looked into my eyes, and I realized with a shock that he was almost as tall as I was. "It wasn't a big deal, Uncle Bry. Please don't be angry... "

"I'm not angry with you, Quinton." I ran my eyes over him over carefully. He didn't look like the average fifteen-year-old. His face wasn't marred by pimples, and his upper body, clothed in a hunter green tee shirt that brought out the green in his eyes, revealed muscles developed by controlling the thousand pound horses he rode. Even at his age, he had an air of being coolly contained. There would be those who would try to ruffle that containment.

"I meant please don't be angry with Libby." He accepted the handkerchief I handed him and wiped his mouth.

"She instigated the kiss, didn't she?"

He didn't avoid my eyes. "I don't think she's very happy."

"You're not responsible for her happiness or lack of it. The fact remains that she's still three years older than you. I don't like that she... molested you while you were under my roof."

"It was just a kiss, Uncle Bry." He hunched a shoulder. "It wasn't a bad kiss, but... "

"But you said you'd kissed someone who was very good."

Color mounted his cheeks. "You heard that?"

"Yes."

"I needed to make her angry enough with me so that it wouldn't happen again. It wasn't right that it was in your home. I'd have been taking advantage of your hospitality."

"You may be a Mann, Quinn, but there's a lot of Sebring in you."

His eyes lit up. "Thank you, Uncle Bryan. They're two of the best families I know, and I like hearing that."

I put my arm around his shoulders. "Let's go in to dinner."

Libby wasn't at the table, and Quinton seemed a little relieved, although only someone who knew him would be able to tell.

"Libby has a headache," Johanna informed us. "She's having a light tray in her room."

"I'm sorry to hear that, my dear. Where's Billy?" I sat down across from her. "Does he have a headache also?"

She picked up her napkin and spread it across her lap. "He's spending the evening with his study group."

We began to eat.

Time moved on.

Libby completed her final year at Mary Magdalene Academy and went on to Brown University. In her sophomore year, she ran away with her Egyptology professor, who happened to be married.

I tracked them to Puerto Vallarta and, unbeknownst to Libby, had a little chat with him. He got a quickie divorce in Mexico and married her.

Apparently getting a Mexican divorce was all he ever taught her. She was in Mexico now, divorcing her third husband, while husband number four waited in the wings.

Billy dropped out of the private school he was attending. "The teachers are old farts who don't know their asses from their elbows." His stance was pugnacious, and he glared at me as if daring me to challenge him.

I just shrugged, my expression blank. "It's your life, Billy."

"Bryan!" Johanna was appalled, no doubt expecting me to exercise parental authority.

"You're seventeen. You can stay here until you're legally an adult. After that, you're on your own. All I have to say is that without a high school diploma, the best job you'll find will be at McDonald's, and believe me, that won't pay enough for you to rent an apartment."

"Bryan!" Johanna's wail followed me as I walked out of the room.

After hanging around the house for a month eating junk food, playing video games, and listening to what he claimed was music, Billy decided to get his GED. It didn't take him very long.

Johanna was relieved until her son announced, "I'm tired of living in Baltimore."

"Billy?"

"I've applied to a small college in upstate New York."

"Billy!" Johanna wept again, but it did nothing to stop him.

He graduated with a degree in English Lit and married immediately after, a New York girl he'd met his sophomore year - what was it with the Harrington siblings and their second year in college? Tess Whittier had been a grad student who was supplementing her student loans by working as a TA.

Within two years of marriage, their family had expanded to include a boy and a girl, and Billy had called recently to let Johanna know Tess was pregnant again.

1990

The day finally came when Johanna approached me. "I want out of this marriage, Bryan."

I'd been expecting this. I slid the papers I'd been working on into the top drawer of my desk, then folded my hands and rested them on the blotter. "You've found someone?"

"Yes. He's a stockbroker. He's not as handsome as you, but... " She shrugged. "He's a good man, and he loves me."

"Well, at least you'll know he'll be home for dinner when he says he will."

She gave a small laugh. "Yes. I'll be moving to Manhattan. Now that Billy is settled there with his own family... " She hadn't been happy when I'd refused to transfer to the New York office of the CIA, would not even discuss the possibility, although I'd had no objection to her frequent visits to her son. My job was at Langley, and I had more than thirty-five years there. Why she would think I'd leave was beyond me.

"Yes." I looked around - this house that had been our home for our entire married life - and felt nothing but overwhelming relief. "It shouldn't take me too long to pack my things."

Mother had passed away eighteen months earlier, and surprisingly, Father hadn't survived her by very long. Jeff had asked Tony, Portia, and me to meet with him and Ludo. They wanted to move out to Shadow Brook and were willing to buy out our shares if we had no objection.

Their place in Adams Morgan had converted to condominiums, and I wondered how they would feel about working out an arrangement with it in exchange for my share. I'd talk to them about it.

It would be good to be in the heart of things again.

"You never looked for anyone, did you?"

"No." I went very still, waiting to see what she was leading up to.

"That's very sad, Bryan. I'm sorry for you." She held out her hand, and I took it. "I've already packed all my belongings. My lawyer will see that you get the papers."

2001

I was in the room of the condo that I'd made my study when the doorbell rang, and I paused in my packing.

I was tempted to let who was there continue ringing until they assumed there was no one home, but then the ringing was replaced by pounding.

"Answer the goddammed door, Bryan!"

It was my oldest brother.

I limped out of the study and down the hallway. "Hold your horses, Anthony! I'm on my way!"

"It took you long enough!" he snarled when I opened the door.

"I'm not as young as I used to be, Anthony."

"You're younger than I am."

"And your point is?"

"If I can get around, so can you."

"You didn't take a spill." A few years before, the horse I'd been riding had taken a jump wrong - my fault - and we'd both fallen. The horse had regained his footing, fortunately uninjured, but - unfortunately - not before he'd rolled over on me and broken my hip.

"Are we going to discuss this in the entryway?"

"Come into the parlor." I led him to the room off the entryway that was the only one not crammed with boxes. "What, exactly, are we going to discuss? How this damp fall weather isn't helping my hip?"

He gave me a look.

"All right. Can I get you something?"

"No. Sit down. You look like you're about to fall over."

"I'm fine."

"Right."

I sat down. Tony nudged an ottoman closer, and I stretched out my leg on it. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"What are you doing here, anyway? Isn't this a workday?"

"I just heard the news. Bryan, this is bullshit! You're a better man than Holmes any day!"

"That's beside the point." I'd been wondering how long it would take for that bit of news to get around town. It hadn't taken very long at all.

"You're younger than I am!"

"You've already stated that. So what?"

"So - the President hasn't asked me to resign! Why would he ask you?"

"Is the word out that he's asked me to resign?"

He gritted his teeth. "I hate when you answer a question with a question! Explain yourself, please, Bryan."

I sighed. "He didn't ask me to resign. I did that all on my own."

His gaze narrowed as he began to put two and two together.

"I imagine Holmes didn't want what was actually going down to become known. He had big plans for me, Tony." I felt every one of my seventy years. "He was going to give me Carruthers' office."

"What, that cubbyhole just off the secretarial pool?"

"That's the one."

"But you're one of the best analysts the Company has!"

"He doesn't think so." I shrugged. "Rather than sit there and listen to my arteries harden, I resigned. You know he covets Hazelton's position. I always felt sorry for the officers under Holmes, and if he takes over, I have a good idea how the Company will be run. I don't want to be a part of it."

"Oh, little brother!" He dropped down in the loveseat across from me.

I turned and fussed with the pillow at my back so he wouldn't see my face. It had been a long time since he'd called me that. "It doesn't matter."

"What are you going to do?"

"A friend who works on the West Coast got in touch with me some time ago. He's offered me a job as a consultant on a new TV show he's developing for cable." I managed to give him a jaunty grin. "It's called 'CIA.' How's that for a kicker?"

"Where are you going to live?"

"Jerry has his realtor looking for a place in the Hollywood Hills."

"You're going to be three thousand miles away!" He sounded as if the thought of that distance between us was something he was unhappy about, but I knew that had to be wishful thinking on my part. Why would three thousand miles bother him, when I'd been not more than twenty, and the only times I saw him were either related to our country's security or when we spent Christmas with Portia?

"I was just packing," I told him. "It's mostly my clothes and a few trophies and ribbons, my books and music, so it won't take very long, and shipping them shouldn't be a big deal."

"You're really doing this?"

"Yes."

He ran a hand through his hair, which was as thick and as fair as when he'd been a young man, and my fingers itched to touch it. "When are you leaving?"

"Not for a few days. I want to say goodbye to my friends, and Portia is making the arrangements for a farewell dinner for me with the family.

"In Great Falls? She'll have it catered?"

"Yes. Gregor would have done the cooking, but why should he have to? He's as much a part of the family as anyone."

Tony nodded. "That's true. After Nigel died, he was there for Portia and Quinn when we couldn't be."

"And even when we could. Tony... " I worried my inner cheek. "... Quinn is going to be there. So are Jeff and Ludo. So will you, I hope?" My oldest brother could be extremely stubborn. If he was angry that I'd left the business without so much as discussing it with him, he might refuse to come to my dinner.

"I'll be there." He gave a firm nod, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Opportunities to see him were so seldom, and I wanted to have memories of one last evening to take with me. "I'll give Portia a call and let her know I'll be there. I'm sure I can get Quinn to drive me." Tony had a problem with night vision. He glanced at his watch. "I have to get going. There are some things... "

"Of course." Was he in such a rush to leave? I struggled to get to my feet. He offered me a hand, and after a brief hesitation I took it. I walked with him to the front door. "Well, I'll see you in a few days." I wanted to hug him a final time, but instead I offered him my hand. "Thank you for stopping by, Tony."

He hesitated for a second, then shook it, turned, and left.

I managed to get the door closed before the lone tear I knew would fall fell.

tbc