Jewelle knew she was being outrageous and loved John for all his concern. John and Betty Murray had become dear friends. She knew John had done things for her that he probably shouldn't have and didn't do for the others assigned to him as Field Representative in the Federal Witness Protection Program. John had fifty-seven witnesses under his auspices. Once a witness was assigned to him, his job was to interview them extensively, create a new identity, and help them transition into their new environment, provide support, keep the monthly payments coming, and keep up with any possible threats.

Inviting a witness over to his house, extending invitations to Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, and developing a relationship of love and caring went way beyond the job description. John was like the brother she never had but had always wished for.

He was fifty-eighty, overweight, and not particularly handsome. And with three teenage kids ready for college, not to mention a mortgage, his money went to everything but his personal appearance. Gray slacks that showed absolutely no evidence of a crease, a tie that looked like it was purchased at a garage sale over ten years ago, and a shirt that sported several pen ink marks around the breast, gave him the appearance of the overworked and underpaid government employee that he was. Yet to Jewelle, John was her knight in shining armor.

He was always there when she needed him. More importantly, he was there when she didn't even admit to herself that she needed someone. He always sensed her needs and was there to fill the gaps left by her new life.

"John, yes, I want to find romance on the seven seas. But while I'm looking for Mr. Wonderful, I want to meet some interesting people like I used to when I traveled; people whose experience goes beyond ice fishing and smelt runs. I also want to see something other than snow. Jesus, I am so sick of snow I could puke. I want to hear waves crashing on some exotic beach and see a sunrise making its way over a Greek island. I want to experience life again. Life with a pulse. John, can you understand that? Please say you can."

"Yeah, yeah, I understand. I just don't want to accept it. I'm afraid for you, friend. The Gambrelinis never expected you to testify after what they did to you. They didn't anticipate you would testify from your hospital bed, and our sources feel the mob didn't buy the story that you died in the hospital from a blood infection. Jewelle, the Gambrelinis don't forget. What you're talking about doing is jeopardizing everything we've done to make you disappear and keep you safe. You're risking it all, Jewelle. Is this really what you want?"

The desperation in his voice echoed through the office as he stared at her without blinking, completely still. It was as though his lack of movement could hold off the ticking of the clock on the wall and Jewelle's decision.

"John, let's make a deal. Let me take this four-week cruise. Maybe I just have cabin fever, and some time away from Duluth will give me a new appreciation for it. Maybe I'll miss the iron ore ships anchored out on Lake Superior, the drive on Sunday afternoons on the North Shore, and the smell of the fresh bread from the European bakery on First Street. It is a beautiful city, quaint, and charming. The people couldn't be nicer. But I have to leave before I can know if I want to return. Please give me your blessing. I need to do this. John, please."

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