The room slowly emptied. He idly turned his Stetson in circles and stared at the crown, then the brim, noting a need for the hat press. Finally his name was called. He rose and made his own passage through the door. He did not perceive the eyes that followed his movements nor did he hear the collective sigh from the female population he left behind. His mind was elsewhere.

Ben followed the woman to a small room. Handing him a paper gown, she raked an appraising eye up and down his uniform clad frame before saying, "Please remove all articles of clothing from the waist up. The doctor will be with you shortly." She turned to leave, wishing she could remain and watch the handsome, well-proportioned man disrobe. She fanned herself and rolled her eyes as she passed the receptionist.

Ben stared at the paper gown, shrugged, and began removing his uniform. His shirt and tie, and, finally, his undershirt followed his brown tunic. His suspenders hung in loops at his side. He pulled on the flimsy paper garment and was not surprised when it ripped. With an exasperated sigh, he settled on to the edge of the examination table clutching the torn edges together. He hated doctor's offices almost as much as he hated hospitals.

A short rap on the door heralded the entrance of the doctor and Ben slid from the exam table and stood at attention as Rob McKenzie entered.

"Please have a seat, Constable," he said and motioned toward the table. Ben settled onto the corner of the table, his back ramrod straight. Rob smiled inwardly. He had never before seen someone sit at attention. Taking in the candid blue eyes turned to him, he extended his hand as he spoke, "Hello, Constable Fraser, how have you been?"

Ben took the extended hand and shook it. "I'm fine, Dr. McKenzie."

Raising an elegant eyebrow, Rob flipped open Ben's chart and studied it before looking at the Mountie once more. "How's your back holding up? Any recurrence of pain?"

"Nothing that I can't handle, Dr. McKenzie," Ben deftly answered.

Rob studied Ben's features and wasn't surprised when he had trouble meeting his eyes. Placing the chart on the counter, he approached Ben. "Let me take a look at your back."

Ben submitted to the expert hands that ran over his back and probed gently at the area surrounding the circular scar.

"This may hurt," Rob warned.

A slight grunt and "It did!" hissed from Ben's lips as Rob prodded a sensitive spot.

Seating himself in a chair, Rob picked up the chart and opened it. After making some notes, he raised his eyes and gazed at the Mountie. "Your back is in good condition considering what you've been through in the past three months. I'd like to schedule you for some more x-rays. It's possible that the bullet has shifted slightly..." At the alarm in Ben's face, Rob quickly added, "...away from the spine. Without x-rays, I can't be absolutely positive."

"How does that affect me?" Ben queried, a hint of panic in his well modulated voice.

"It means that the bullet may eventually move to a position where it can be safely removed. Or you could continue to carry it around with you for the rest of your life. It's possible you would never need to have it removed. On the other hand..."

"On the other hand, it could cause some difficulties at some point in the future?" Ben's voice did not waver considering the thoughts that flashed across his mind.

Rob nodded, "Yes." He watched Ben closely. "Have you had any problems? Backache? A tingling in your extremities? Numbness? It's quite possible that as the bullet shifts it could press against some nerves and cause you some problems."

Ben thought about the frequent bouts of tightness and pain he'd passed off as being out of shape and the continued ache that had haunted him since the fall to the sidewalk several weeks earlier. Maybe there was more to it than just being tired or out of shape. But then again, maybe he was just getting soft. City living could do that to you.

"There's nothing that I would consider a problem. Just..."

Rob dismissed his excuse with a wave of his hand. "Let me guess. After sitting for extended periods of time, you experience a sharp pain that radiates from here to here." Rob ran a finger up his arm. "When you stand, there is a momentary feeling of weakness in one or both of your legs. After a night of rest, you find yourself stiff and your back aches..."

Ben stared at Rob. How did he know what had been happening?

Reading the expression on Ben's face, Rob smiled slightly. "I'm a doctor, Constable, it's my business to know. I take it then that you've had these symptoms?" Ben reluctantly nodded his head. "I thought as much." Pausing, he gauged Ben's reaction. "Shall I set you up for some x-rays? We can get it done now." After a moment's hesitation, Ben nodded his acquiescence.

Later, Ben was ushered into Rob's private office. He felt better--he always felt better in his uniform. When Rob entered the room, Ben started to snap to attention but thought better of it when his back complained.

Glancing sideways at the Mountie, Rob slid a set of x-rays under the clips of the light tablet on the wall. Motioning for Ben to join him, he pointed to one of the films. "Everything looks fine, Constable. I wish more of my patients were in as good a shape as you are. However..."

"However?"

"The bullet has definitely moved." He tapped the image of the opaque mass on the film then slid another film under the adjacent set of clips. Pointing to the same area of the x-ray, he spoke once more. "You can see for yourself how the bullet has shifted slightly. There's no danger at the moment. However, that could change."

"In what way?"

"If you were to re-injure your back, it could put pressure on this bundle of nerves." Rob indicated a faint grey smear on the newer x-ray. The bullet was starkly white against it. Turning from Ben, Rob settled in the chair behind his desk. Motioning for Ben to take a seat in one of the opposing chairs, he waited before speaking once more.

"I won't hedge, Constable, that bullet will have to be removed. How long you can wait before having it done depends entirely upon you. If you can avoid any more trauma to your back, you might be able to postpone the operation for a while. But it will eventually have to be removed."

The air whooshed from Ben's lungs. Everything he had feared concerning his back had crystallized. "And if it isn't?" His voice died away.

"The episodes of pain will become more frequent and the tingling and numbness in your legs will increase." Rob's voice dropped as he spoke once more, "I'm sorry, Constable, but there is a possibility of permanent damage. The nervous system is unforgiving when it's injured."

"Are you saying I could...I could be paralyzed?" Ben's voice wavered slightly as fear sent a cold chill down his spine.

"That's hard to say but paralysis is a distinct possibility."

Ben sat in silence. It was a shock to learn that that episode with Victoria could still influence his life. The guilt of that episode was a demon that continued to haunt him. He bowed his head, regretting the damage to his life that that woman could still inflict.

'But,' he reminded himself, 'I have a new hope, a second chance at happiness.' The operation could wait until he had an answer from Phil. Ben closed his eyes and nodded his head slightly. "I have some things in my life that I have to straighten out before I can submit to that kind of operation," he finally said.

Rob studied the man seated across from him. What was so important that Ben was willing to jeopardize his health? Did that something include his sister, Phil? Now that Martin was out of the picture, how did Ben fit into the grander scheme that included Phil?

"It is your decision, Constable, but, in my opinion, it would be unwise to wait too long. Any additional trauma to your back could result in irreparable damage. I hope that these 'things' in your life are worth that possibility."

Ben stared at his clenched hands. How much did Rob know about what had happened between Phil and himself? How much did he dare to tell him? Could he tell him? What would be Rob's reaction? He knew that if anything were to ever exist between Phil and himself, he would have to deal with her brothers. With them, it was all or none. Ben had experienced the bond between the McKenzie siblings once before and he knew just how strong it was. He lifted his eyes and locked them with Rob's. There was something there that gave him the confidence to continue.

"No. I mean yes...that is I...it's just that...." Ben's words faltered and came to a stop. Swallowing, he stared at the man who had once been his friend. "Dr. McKenzie..." Rob's eyes bored into his. "Dr. McKenzie, I don't know how much you know about what happened during the Grand Canyon trip..." He paused hoping for some sign that Rob wished him to continue.

Rob leaned back, crossed his legs, and continued his unwavering stare. "And that would be?" He had his suspicions but he wasn't going to make it any easier for the Mountie. He recalled the argument he'd had with Phil during the time they had waited for news of Martin. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Phil had been more than a little angry with him. Did it matter that the reason for that anger now sat across from him? After all these years and all that had happened, why did she still love Benton Fraser? He had never understood that even as he had watched it affect his sister's life. He had thought that Martin had finally erased the Mountie from Phil's heart but that hope had died when Martin broke their engagement.

Ben squirmed under Rob's direct gaze. He knew this would be hard, had halfway prepared himself for this, but to actually experience it was a totally different matter. He knew what Rob was asking, what he waited for--an explanation. He closed his eyes, stiffened his spine, and said the one word that explained it all, "Phil."

Rob smiled inwardly. For some perverse reason he was enjoying the situation. "What does my sister's presence on one of her excursions have to with whether or not you have an operation on your back? It's your decision not hers. Or is there something else that you're not telling me?" He watched the guilty start and wondered what caused it. As he spoke, he continued to gauge Ben's reactions.

"Phil's a grown woman--capable of making her own choices, her own decisions even if those decisions may not be the right ones. You don't need to worry about Phil, Constable. TJ and I will be here for her just as we've always been." Rob watched with some satisfaction as that dart hit home. He watched Ben straighten his back even more. Smiling to himself, he watched Ben drum up the courage to speak to him.

As always, Phil's brother was direct--almost to the point of rudeness. Ben didn't need any reminders of the fact that he hadn't been there for her, that he'd abandoned her for another woman. Why then did he continue to sit here and face this man? Why did he feel it necessary to talk to Rob about Phil? Perhaps because he knew that Phil's oldest brother would be the more difficult of the two to face. Perhaps he needed to face the demon of guilt that still plagued him.

"Dr. McKenzie, I know what I did was wrong. I've known it for years. There's not a day that hasn't gone by that I haven't regretted a decision I made in the heat of the moment." His voice rose then halted as he struggled with emotions that threatened to choke him. Regaining control, he continued in a much-subdued voice. "Don't you think that if I could, I would go back to that summer and not leave Colorado alone?" He faltered as a lump rose in his throat. If only he could go back to that carefree summer once more and claim the woman he loved more than life. But that day was 12 years in the past and he could not return to it.

His voice continued, thick and unsteady. "Do you know what it feels like to live with such regret that it consumes you and the only thing that comforts you in the depths of the nights are the memories that you carry of the one woman that could have made you whole?" His voice rose slightly. "Do you know what it's like to realize that because of your own stupidity, you have lost the most precious thing you have ever had and there is nothing...absolutely nothing that will ever bring it back to you?" Dropping his face into his hands, he spoke from behind the mask of his fingers. "Do you know what it feels like to be given a second chance?"

Rob continued to watch Ben. What the Mountie had said struck home. Yes, there were things in his life he deeply regretted. He regretted not being there when Lindy died even if his presence would not have made a difference. He regretted not being present when his first child was born. He had made sure that he was there when his second had entered this world. He regretted not being able to help each and every patient he lost. Sometimes all the medical knowledge he had still wasn't enough to hold death at bay. He regretted encouraging Martin's interest in Phil. Maybe if he hadn't been so gung-ho, their relationship wouldn't have gone as far as it had. He regretted his abrupt behavior with Phil, the accusations he had hurled, when Martin was a captive of the Khmer Rouge. He regretted the hurt he had seen in her eyes knowing that he was the cause of it. And there were more, he was, after all, only human.

"I know only too well about regrets, Constable. I've made mistakes where Phil is concerned and I don't want to repeat them. I already regret encouraging Martin. I won't do that again. Maybe you have come to your senses and realize just what you have done but I can't take that chance. She's a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions but I warn you...don't hurt her again."

Ben brought his troubled eyes up to stare into Rob's eyes. "Dr. McKenzie... Rob...I can't let this second chance go without at least trying to recapture what I so foolishly gave up so many years ago." Ben turned his head and stared out the window at the Chicago skyline. "You once told me that I couldn't have Phil without getting you and TJ as well. I made a mistake 12 years ago...I want to..." He sighed deeply and held onto it like an anchor. "I need to talk to Phil. There are so many things that have happened to both of us...things that never should have happened. Rob...Dr. McKenzie..." Ben looked directly at Rob. "I need to see her--to talk to her."

Rob watched the emotions playing across Ben's face. He knew from first-hand experience how well he could hide his feelings behind his polite exterior. He had seen him do it countless times during the months of recovery and rehabilitation that followed the shooting. Now, however, a wide range of emotions swept across his face. "What do you want of me, Fraser?" he finally asked.

At least Rob had dropped the Constable part. Was that a good sign? Drawing in a deep breath, he released it as he spoke, "I haven't seen or spoken to Phil since the Grand Canyon trip." Ben gazed into Rob's grey-blue eyes and repeated, "I said some things then that maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe I pushed too hard to regain what I lost. I don't know, Rob. I guess I just need to see her."

Rob watched the look in Ben's eyes finally settle into that of a man haunted by demons. It was the same look he had occasionally seen in Phil's eyes over the years since he had broken her heart. If Phil could forgive Ben, could he? Could he forgive him for what he had done to his sister?

Ben stared across the desk at Rob, his heart still in his chest as he waited for an answer. Moments passed before he leaned forward and lowered his voice, "What about my request, Dr. McKenzie?"

Rob steepled his fingers and watched Ben from behind that small barrier. He had hoped that Martin could change her heart but that had not happened. Now it seemed that there was a second chance for Ben and Phil. Was this what he wanted for his sister? What Ben had just told him coupled with what his wife's cousin, Lloyd, had told him led him to believe that Ben might still love Phil. He knew that Phil had never stopped loving him. Others seemed to think that if Ben and Phil could be brought back together everything would work itself out. He didn't know, but if there was the slighted chance that maybe, just maybe, they were meant to be together. Did he have the right to place stumbling blocks in their path? Maybe he should let Phil be the grown woman he said she was and make her own decisions. Maybe they could work out the demons that had plagued both their lives.

"I can't make any promises, Constable. I'll contact Phil and see what she wants to do. If she wants to see you..." His voice faded then strengthened. "More than that I can't do."

"That's all I'm asking, Dr. McKenzie. Please tell her..." Ben stopped unable to think of anything appropriate to say.

"Tell her what?"

Ben closed his eyes and slumped in his chair. "Tell her I'm sorry." Rob nodded his head in understanding.

Once started, the sneeze had a life of its own. Phil felt the tickle deep in the back of her nose, held her breath, massaged the bridge of her nose, all to no avail. The sneeze would not be denied. The force of the involuntary action left her winded and she wrapped her arms around her aching chest. Many more like that one and she could possibly break a rib or two.

'With my luck that's exactly what will happen!' she thought none too happily as she hastily grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her nose. Why did this cold have to happen now? It was just another demon on top of all the rest that seemed bent on plaguing her since her return from that fateful trip down the Grand Canyon.

"Phil? I heard that one all the way out here! Are you sure you feel up to working today?" Mark asked from the door of her office.

"I'm okay, Mark," Phil huskily answered, her voice cracking on each word.

"You don't sound like it!"

"Sore throat, it will go away."

"Not if you don't take care of yourself, it won't!"

Phil leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her hair. "It's just a stupid little cold. I'm not staying home for a stupid little cold!"

Mark strode across the room to stand in front of Phil's large desk. Glancing at the uncharacteristic mess strewn across its surface, he spoke, his voice filled with gentle concern, "Phil, do you realize just how bad you sound? Your sore throat could easily become laryngitis then what would you do? What if someone came by the office? You certainly couldn't talk to them and you certainly don't want to pass your germs on to prospective customers. Now do you?" He paused for a moment to let his words sink in then continued, "You know the more you try to talk the worse your throat will hurt."

Phil guiltily sought to deny it but another sneeze shook her slight frame. Gasping for breath, she croaked, "I can't afford to take off any more time..."

Placing his hands on the surface of the desk, he leaned forward over it. "If you don't take care of yourself now, your 'stupid little cold' could develop into something worse! Have you talked to Rob? What does he think about you working?" When Phil did not answer him, Mark grimaced before shaking his head. "You haven't told him you're sick, have you?"

Phil's eyes dropped to stare at the mess on her desk--and that's what it was. She was too tired to think straight enough to make sense of the multitude of papers, brochures, data sheets, and account forms that littered her desk. Finally, she raised her eyes to her friend's face once more. Sighing deeply, she shook her head. Naturally she hadn't called her brother. He'd tell her the exact same thing--go home...go to bed...get plenty of rest...drink plenty of fluids. She could already hear Rob chewing her out. Maybe she should go home, if for nothing more than to avoid his lecture. Sometimes she hated having brothers.

As if sensing her indecision, Mark added, "Phil, nothing important is scheduled for at least a week." He motioned toward the sea of papers on her desk. "You need to take care of this cold so you'll be firing on all cylinders next week when we meet with Whitneys Stockbrokers to finalize this deal. We've got some major decisions to make and we can't do it with you out of the action."

"But..."

Waving off her rebuttal, Mark continued, "But nothing, Phil. If you won't do it for yourself then think about Jeff and me. If something happens to you it affects us as well. This is your company and we do work for you but we're also your friends. If you won't go home now and take care of yourself, I'll call your brother and have him haul your butt home," he threatened.

"You wouldn't."

Leaning forward, he stared at her eye to eye. "Just try me," he replied with grim certainty.

Phil recognized the determination in Mark's eyes and knew he wasn't bluffing. Her shoulders sagged as she leaned back in her chair. Motioning weakly with a hand, she whispered, "All right, you win. I'll go home. But I won't forget this," she tiredly replied then smiled at him.

Mark came around the desk and pulled her to her feet. Holding her at arm's length, he chuckled slightly while shaking his head. "Ooh, I'm so scared. I'm shaking in my boots," he softly answered her threat

"You'd better be, mister. I'm the big bad boss and you're just my little minion," she whispered as she slid from his arms. Her throat didn't hurt as much when she whispered.

Mark shook himself, his hands trembling like leaves at the end of a branch. "Ooh, I'm terrified!" He dropped his hands and placed them on his hips. "Now, get out of here. If anything comes up, I know where to find you."

Phil graciously accepted defeat. When Mark was in this state of mind there was no reasoning with him. If she was truthful with herself, now that she'd decided to go home, she looked forward to going back to bed and nursing her cold.

"Okay, I'll go. Take care of things for me, Mark. If you need me..."

"I know where you are. Go home now, Phil, and take care of yourself."

Phil nodded her head once then glanced about her office. Thankfully, there wasn't anything pressing that couldn't wait a couple of days. She stuffed a notepad covered in notes and a folder containing information on the Whitneys package into her briefcase and snapped it shut.

Mark ushered her to the door and watched as she pushed the button for the elevator. Suddenly tired beyond her years, she didn't feel capable of climbing the stairs to her apartment. Riding the car to her floor, she felt her body moving on automatic as it walked the short distance down the hallway and around the corner to her apartment. Mechanically, she opened the door, closed it and locked it, then placed the briefcase on the dining room table. Swaying slightly, she kicked her shoes off as she headed toward her bedroom. Her slacks slid from her hips as she undid the button and zipper. Kicking them away, she left them puddled on the floor. Approaching the bed, she fell forward onto it and, pulling the covers over her body, was asleep before her head hit the pillow. Chance jumped up onto the bed and, after checking its sleeping inhabitant, followed suit.

Three hours later, Phil rolled over and came slowly awake. Her head ached, she could barely breath, and her throat hurt as well. Sitting on the side of the bed, she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands before rising and entering the small bath. A slow shower and a change of clothing put her in better spirits.

A sneeze followed by another brought the ache back to her throat. Feet dragging, she headed to the kitchen where she located the salt. Mixing a glass of salt water, she gargled with it gagging over the taste. Her throat still ached. Finally, bowing to the inevitable, she called Rob.

"Hi," she spoke into the phone trying to keep her voice from cracking.

"Flip? How are you?" Rob responded.

"I'm fine, Rob. I just caught a cold over the weekend and, before you get all 'high-and-mighty', I'm already at home."

"That's good. You've been overworking yourself for weeks, Flip."

"Flip..."

"I'm okay, Rob. I just thought I should call you and tell you that I wasn't feeling well."

"You should've called me sooner."

"I know and I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven," Rob spoke gently into the mouthpiece. After all that Phil had been through in the past weeks it was no surprise to him that she had finally crapped out. "Do you need for me to stop by and take a look at you?" he asked.

"No, Rob, and I do appreciate the offer but it's just a cold. My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton balls and I have this sneeze that doesn't know when to quit and my throat is a bit sore...but that's it."

"Any fever?"

"No. I'm fine, Rob, really I am."

"Nevertheless, Flip, I'm going to call your pharmacy and have them deliver something to you for your throat and the congestion. If you start running a fever, I want to know immediately so I can get some antibiotics to you. Is there anything else?" he added for good measure.

"Yes," Phil softly replied, "I love you."

Rob chuckled before replying, "I love you, too, Flip. Take care of yourself. If you get to feeling worse don't hesitate to call me."

"I won't and thanks."

"Don't mention it."

They made their farewells and Phil hung up the phone feeling better about calling her brother than she had in several days.

Rising to her feet, she checked through the peephole before opening the door to the delivery boy for the pharmacy down the street.

"Hi, Sean, how's school?"

"Hi, Dr. McKenzie. School's a bore but I only got the rest of this year and I'll be done!"

Phil laughed then immediately regretted it. "Sounds like you've got Senioritis!" she finally quipped in a much softer voice.

"Can't get graduated soon enough!"

As she paid for her medications, she continued to chat with Sean. "Just remember, Sean, if you need any letters of recommendation for college or scholarships, just give me a call. I'd be happy to write something for you."

"Thanks, Dr. McKenzie," Sean replied with gratitude in his voice. As a mentor at the local high school, Dr. McKenzie had help Sean with an important Honors assignment.

Closing the door behind the gregarious young man, Phil removed the medications from the sack and read the instructions. Glancing at the clock, she decided to take them now rather than wait for bedtime. She downed the pills then returned to her position on the sofa in front of the television set. Flipping channels she caught sight of some spectacular mountain scenery and decided to watch the movie about ski instructors in Aspen. The leading actor was vaguely familiar but she couldn't place him. Her eyelids grew heavy and once again she fell asleep.

It was well past midnight before she awoke once more. The skiing movie had long since been replaced by a series of movies with a Canadian flick about ranching currently playing. Again, the lead actor seemed familiar and when she finally placed him she snorted in disgust. Flipping the set off, Phil rose to her feet and stretched. She sneezed violently setting her head to aching once more. Checking the clock, she realized she would have to wait until morning to take another dose of her prescription medication.

'I guess it's the other stuff then,' she told herself as she headed toward the kitchen. Opening the bottle of Nyquil, she measured out the prescribed dosage and swallowed it. She quickly straightened the kitchen then headed toward the bedroom. As she passed her wall of photos the sleeve of her shirt caught on one of the frames and the photo of Ben fell to the floor at her feet.

Phil stared at the photo then bent down to pick it up. For a moment she was slightly dizzy but dismissed the feeling rationalizing that it was just the Nyquil taking effect. Wiping the dust from the frame, she rehung it on the wall then stepped back to view it. Unbidden, a tear rolled down her cheek. Even though she had made her decision, her heart still insisted on reminding her of how much she loved him. If only she could trust him but she'd learned the hard way that she couldn't.

Spinning on her heels, she hurried to her office and pulled out a page of stationery. Writing quickly, she worded a note to Ben.

Phil folded the note and placed it on the desk. She would include it with the letters she had sent him all those years ago. Ben would finally learn of his daughter--something he needed to know. She knew the heartache that news would bring but Ben would recover just as she had. Maybe next time he would think before he discarded someone's love for another.

Turning the lights out, Phil went back to bed. Subconsciously, she knew it was her body demanding the rest it needed to fight off the cold or maybe it was the Nyquil talking. Consciously, she wanted to bury herself in her covers and forget that she had ever known Benton Fraser. Was it any wonder that the demons that plagued her Nyquil induced sleep included a ski instructor and a ranch hand that looked suspiciously like Ben?

TJ McKenzie stared at the snowplow gainfully moving the snow from the roadway onto the margin beside the road. He had followed the snowplow for the last fifteen minutes debating whether or not to go around it or to stay in the relatively clear path it created. Others zipped around the snowplow and continued on to their destinations but TJ remained in the lee of the large vehicle. Why didn't he just pass the plow and get on to...where? That was the problem. He had nowhere to go, no place to be. He was biding his time, waiting until his flight back to Chicago on the morrow. This evening he was simply in limbo...and he hated it.

Snorting in disgust, he realized that that wasn't exactly the truth. What he hated was being alone. 'Alone?' he questioned himself. Why was this trip any different than any of the many others he had taken? With his particular job, he was used to being alone, travelling alone. He had done it so often, it was almost routine. Why was this one so different?

A face framed by amber locks of hair and eyes as blue as a summer sky answered his question. Three days now it had been since he had first visited Earl Muldon. Three days since he'd seen Becka Fraser. Three days of negotiating with the wily old man. Three days of wondering why he hadn't taken the chance and asked Becka to dinner. Three days of feeling sorry for himself. Three days of imagining things that couldn't possibly happen. Three...lonely...miserable... days.

Was it any wonder he now found himself contentedly following a snowplow simply because there was nothing else for him to do? Or was it more to do with the parting shot Muldon had levied at him? TJ self-consciously patted his coat pocket feeling the small pouch Muldon had given him. He didn't need to pull it forth to recall the contents of that pouch. As they concluded their negotiations, Muldon had tossed the small pouch at him. Deftly catching it, TJ had spilled the contents onto the palm of his hand. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the two rings exposed. The larger of the two rings with its engravings of a wolf was definitely masculine. The smaller, engraved with images of a golden eagle, reminded him of Becka and therefore took on a more feminine persona. Why? He didn't know but from the moment he first saw the ring it was indelibly linked to Becka.

'Get a grip on yourself, TJ!' he told himself. Muldon had simply given him two samples of his work with a promise of more for the exhibit he was putting together for the museum. There was nothing more to the rings than that. Still, the knowing look in Muldon's eyes had indicated that that wasn't the case. It was as if he was trying to tell him something...something important but he was too dense to understand it. Even now he felt frustrated with his inability to fathom the unspoken message of the rings.

Snarling with frustration, TJ whipped his car into a small parking lot and shifted into neutral. Here he was, having closed a deal for an exhibit that was near and dear to his heart, celebrating by questioning the motives of an old man and following a snowplow through the streets of Kitimat. Surely he could do better than that!

Glancing about, his pulse quickened as he realized just where he was. A battered pickup parked beside several other equally nondescript vehicles clustered near the entrance of an RCMP depot. Turning the ignition off, TJ stared at the building and watched as several people exited pulling hats down onto their heads and tightening scarves around their necks and wondered at what fickle demon had brought him to this particular depot and why this particular time.

It wasn't until a particular person left the building and hurried toward the battered pickup that TJ reacted. Throwing the car door open, he bolted toward the woman trying to catch her before she could enter her vehicle and leave. Bracing himself, he called across the distance that separated them, "Becka."

As the shift ended, Becka stretched then massaged the back of her neck. Desk duty was boring even in the best of circumstances but during the winter it was wearing on the soul. Resigned to the fact that she must prove herself over and over again, Becka had dutifully born the loathsome position, but there were times when she longed for a reason, any reason, to tell the powers-that-be to take the job and shove it. What had once been a consuming passion had become an albatross about her neck. Where she had once had purpose in life she now found emptiness and a vague sense of disquiet. She only felt complete when she was hiking or climbing...something that was not a part of her desk-bound duties. Maybe if she could get away from the desk...out on patrol...chasing suspects...anything...maybe she would feel better about her job but she knew that the chances of that occurring were slim. No, her experience with the Soldier organization had tainted her chances of advancement or a 'real' posting. If she was to remain in the RCMP she must be satisfied with the crumbs tossed her way. At least her posting was in Canada not somewhere else like her brother's.

Zipping her coat closed, Becka pulled on her gloves and headed out into the cold evening. Maybe she would grab a bite to eat on the way home or maybe she would stop by the grocery store and pick up a few things for a light dinner. Frankly, neither prospect was enticing. Sighing, she recognized the familiar gnawing feeling. She thought fleetingly of Matt but another quickly supplanted his image. Sighing in resignation, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and hurried toward her truck.

She was lonely and didn't want to go home to another lonely dinner, another lonely evening in front of the TV, another night alone. But even that was preferable to spending the evening at the local tavern where those that knew her either avoided her or propositioned her and those that didn't know her did the same. Why couldn't she find someone who could look past her background to the lonely woman she was? Wasn't there a soul mate out there somewhere for her? Soul mates...the very idea reminded her of Cat Madden. Maybe she would pick up some groceries, head home, and give Cat a call. Cat always seemed to be able to pull her out of a funk. It was with some surprise that her gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a voice calling to her. Her heartbeat quickened as she paused beside her truck and turned to face the man approaching her. "TJ," she whispered.

An awkward silence settled between the two people, each very much conscious of the other. As the silence extended into the realm of embarrassing, TJ took the bull by the horns and coughed nervously. Becka answered with an "Ah" that was nipped short.

TJ fidgeted, drawing small circles in the slush with his boot. "Um...I...uh...you see..." he stammered to a halt. Why couldn't he just say what he wanted to say? 'And just what would that be?' he asked himself. Swallowing nervously, he began again. "I'm leaving tomorrow," he finally said.

Becka's heart plummeted from where it had climbed the moment she'd recognized his voice. "So soon?"

Biting his lip, he nodded his head then answered, "Yes. I've found what I came for and now it's time to head home."

"So Earl agreed to your proposition?" Becka inquired. She knew just how contrary Earl could be but she also had a feeling that TJ could hold his own in any negotiations.

TJ snorted softly. "I suspect that you know that it wasn't as simple as that!"

Chuckling lightly, Becka confided, "No, I guess I should've warned you that Earl loves to haggle but I thought you were probably used to it."

Running a hand through his hair, TJ grinned, "I've had my share of moments but usually we can find some common ground and come to an agreement that is mutually beneficial. Mr. Muldon has agreed to help me with the exhibit. It should be one-of-a-kind."

"That sounds like a cause for a celebration!"

"That's what I thought but..." TJ paused.

Curious, Becka prompted, "...but what?"

TJ glanced at his feet before raising his eyes to regard Becka once more. "It's...it's just...when you do it alone..."

Becka sagely nodded her head. "Understood. I know exactly what you mean. Celebrating takes at least two. What's the fun in it if you don't have someone to share it with?"

"Exactly."

"So who do you usually celebrate with?" Becka asked allowing the interest to seep into her voice.

TJ hung his head in embarrassment. "My sister," he finally answered letting his eyes slide away from her face. He knew just how badly that sounded. Here he was a grown man, well past the age of consent, and the only date he could find to celebrate his achievements with was his sister.

Becka studied the faint rosy tint that colored the tips of TJ's ears. Was it the cold or was it the embarrassment she thought she heard in his voice? When he had trouble meeting her eyes she knew it was from embarrassment. So, the only woman in his life was his sister. Briefly, thinking of her own brother, she wondered if TJ were the only man in his sister's life. Her heart sank when she recognized the direction her thoughts were taking. Why did she have to focus on her brother's problems whenever she was with this man? Startled back into the here and now, she realized that TJ was now staring at her. What must he think of her prolonged silence?

"She's a lucky woman," she said as she pushed aside all thoughts of her brother.

TJ let loose the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Taking a chance, he spoke, "Since she's not here, I was wondering if..." His voice dwindled as he spoke each word.

The gloomy cloud that had shadowed her day lifted as her thoughts leaped forward to what she imagined TJ might say. Months before when she'd first met TJ McKenzie she had been drawn to him. She couldn't deny the attraction she felt for him. He was a kindred spirit that shared many of her interests and the fact that he was devastatingly handsome didn't hurt either. The thought of the lonely dinner she had contemplated sprang into her thoughts and she shuddered with revulsion.

TJ watched Becka's expressive face hoping for some clue as to what she was thinking. The look of distaste and the small shudder did not escape his notice. Feeling like something scraped off the bottom of a shoe, he sighed heavily letting his shoulders droop. Glancing back toward his rental car, he spoke in a voice now devoid of color. "I'm sorry for bothering you. I won't take anymore of your time." Turning to go, he was halted by a hand grasping his coat sleeve.

"I thought you were going to ask me..." Becka's voice rose in a question then died in confusion. Her hand dropped to her side.

"I didn't think you wanted to..."

"You didn't ask."

"You acted like..."

Becka shook her head breaking into a wide grin. Thrusting her hand out, she said, "Hi, I'm Becka Fraser and I'm heading home to a scintillating evening of leftovers and reruns. Do you think you can make me a better offer?"

"You acted like you found my presence distasteful," TJ replied.

"When?"

"Just now."

Comprehension dawning, Becka smiled once more. "Oh that! I just had a vision of my dinner plans and discovered that I didn't like them. So, Mr. TJ McKenzie, I ask you again. Can you make me a better offer?"

"Leftovers and reruns?"

"Yep."

Moistening his lips with his tongue, he slowly smiled. "I think I can offer you something better than that. That is, if you would care to help out a desperate man?"

"Oh, I think that can be arranged. However, there is one condition..."

Cocking one eyebrow, TJ asked, "And that would be?"

Guiltily, Becka answered, "I don't want to talk about brothers or sisters. Okay?"

TJ nodded his head in understanding. "Okay," he agreed.

"Now, before we do anything, I need to go home and change into something more comfortable." Running a finger around the collar of her tunic, she added, under her breath, "This wool itches like the devil!"

"That sounds like a plan! I'll follow you home." His voice held a measure of excitement.

Fifteen minutes later, TJ parked his car along Becka's pickup. He had followed her through the outskirts of Kitimat and into the country. Following the narrow, winding road, the two vehicles had entered the trees as the road climbed. At last, Becka had turned down a gravel road that led past several cabins until she turned off the road and pulled up in front of her own small cabin.

In the fading light of the afternoon, TJ admired the small cabin sitting in its small clearing backed by tall stands of trees and the ramparts of the towering range of mountains on whose flanks the cabin rested. Becka slid from the cab of her pickup and strode around to the driver's side of TJ's car. He quickly rolled the window down.

"There's no need for you to sit out here in cold while I change. Come on in and I'll fix you a cup of coffee," she invited.

TJ knocked the snow from his shoes before climbing onto the porch of the cabin. Becka beckoned him from the door and he brushed past her as he entered her home. He was so close he could feel the heat from her body and his instinctive response to her was so powerful. Their eyes locked as awareness united them.

Becka was the first to move. Sliding away from him, she hurried toward the kitchen. "I'll just get that coffee going," she said, appalled at the breathless tone in her voice.

TJ closed the door behind him and drew his coat off. Glancing around, he hung it on a peg by the door then headed toward the fireplace. Mechanically, he lit the wood that had been laid there, his thoughts on something totally removed from the wood or the fireplace or the cabin for that matter. The physical response of his body to Becka's nearness had unnerved him and now he had a problem he must deal with.

"Where's the bathroom," he asked hoping his voice was casual.

Becka glanced over her shoulder, then pointed with her chin. "Down the hallway, first door on the left."

Excusing himself, TJ hurried to the privacy of the bath. When the door closed behind him, he quickly unzipped his jeans and set to work. Time seemed to stand still until a knocking on the door abruptly restarted it.

"TJ? Are you all right?" Becka called concerned by the length of time he had remained in the bath. She had changed her clothes and fixed a tray with the coffee and still TJ had not left the small room.

With a groan, TJ rezipped his jeans then washed his hands. Opening the door, he smiled apologetically down at the concerned face turned to his. "I'm...I was..." he stammered not sure what to say.

Becka stared into TJ's face alarmed by the flush that brightened his eyes and added a moist sheen to his skin. Her initial thought was a fever but that changed as she recognized the smoldering flames in his eyes. There was a tingling in the pit of her stomach and she knew the fires were echoed in her eyes. She shouldn't, she knew she shouldn't but when had that stopped her before? Sliding her hands up his arms, she drew his face down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

TJ groaned and enveloped her in his arms. He deepened the gentle kiss not caring whether this was right or not. His broad shoulders heaved as he breathed in the clean, faintly floral scent of her skin letting it permeate the nooks and crannies of his mind. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone before. That thought sent shocked awareness through him as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on him. As much as he'd loved Noelle, the feelings struggling within his breast were more powerful, more overwhelming, more endearing than those he'd felt for his lost love. Chuckling mirthlessly to himself, he cursed Fate and the cruel demons it sent to plague him. He cursed Fate for finally sending the perfect woman to him. He cursed Fate for sending him the one woman he could never have. He cursed Fate for screwing up his sister's love life and in the process of doing that, screwing up his own.

"You want to let me in on the joke?" Becka asked as she drew back from him.

TJ's voice was calm, his gaze steady. "I was merely cursing the fickleness of Fate."

"Why?"

Raking a hand through his hair, he angrily replied, "You know why! This...us..." he waved his hand between them. "It can't happen. It never can happen as long as Flip and Ben..."

Becka's hand shot out, her finger's pressed against his lips. "We agreed not to mention them."

"But..." he tried to speak around the barrier of her fingers.

"But nothing, TJ. What they do with their lives is their concern and has nothing to do with what we do now." Stepping closer to him, she let her hand drift down to where she could caress the front of his jeans. Gratified by the hardness restrained by the fabric of his jeans, she rubbed harder. "I know you want me, TJ, and I want you. I have since I first saw you." Fumbling with the snap at the waist of his jeans, she released it and drew the zipper down.

Startled, TJ finally reacted by grasping her hands and stilling their movements. The cessation of motion on his member combined with the unfinished business of earlier was pure agony. He ached to bury himself in her moist depths. His legs trembled with the effort to remain standing. Breathing heavily, he spoke in a voice that shook with emotion, "If I said I didn't want you I'd be lying..."

Becka smiled broadly and grasping his hand pulled him in the direction of her bedroom. TJ followed but at the door of the room, he stopped and pulled her around to face him. "Becka, I need for you to understand..."

"TJ, there's nothing for me to understand. I want you and..." she ran a finger over the bulge in his undershorts eliciting a groan from him, "you want me." Running her hands over his chest, she paused at the buttons on his shirt and undid them one by one. Slowly sliding it down his arms, she placed kisses on the muscled expanse of his torso.

TJ tried once more to reason with her. "Becka, we can't do this..."

Becka smiled up at him her eyes deep with desire. "Yes, we can," she spoke with urgency in her low voice, gentle and clear. "We can do this and there's no one...no one, TJ, that has a right to stop us. We're both adults and I want this, I want you, I need you, TJ," her voice faltered as she realized the truth of her words. Now, she knew why Matt had not been the lover she'd needed...wanted. He had been a poor substitute for this man...for TJ McKenzie. She would be damned if she let this opportunity pass her by. It was with some surprise that she realized that TJ was no longer arguing with her. He had in fact, unbuttoned her blouse and drawn it from her arms. He pulled her thermal underwear from the waistband of her slacks up and over her head. Lowering his head, his tongue now probed the spot at the base of her throat and slid downward to tease the valley between her breasts.

Discarding his fears and apprehensions, TJ submerged himself in his desire for this woman. Having already admitted to himself that he loved her, he wanted more than empty dreams and fantasies to fill his thoughts when the real world came crashing back down. For tonight there was no lonely sister too stubborn to seize the only love she ever wanted. Tonight there was only an equally lonely man being offered a bite of forbidden fruit and he would accept that bite knowing full well that it would condemn him to a living hell. But that was tomorrow and tonight was young. Lifting her in his arms, he carried Becka across the room and placed her on the bed. He quickly removed his shirt and slid his jeans off his long legs.

Becka watched with growing desire as TJ undressed. As his hands slid beneath the band of his under shorts and pushed them down, she couldn't suppress an exclamation of admiration. She'd seen her share of men but none could compare to the Adonis standing before her now. A quiver surged through her veins finally settling in the pit of her stomach. Running her tongue over her lips, she devoured him with her eyes.

Pressing her back against the covers of the bed, TJ settled his weight on her. Kissing a line from her lips to her breasts, he toyed with her pulse point until it raced. She wanted to scream but could only moan softly and clutch at his hair. Encountering the band that held his long locks in check, she loosened it allowing his shoulder length hair to hang loose. He lifted his head briefly, shaking his head to loosen his locks, then grinning seductively, resumed his tasting of her skin.

Becka arched beneath him as his teeth tugged at the lace of her bra. His hands readily slid around her and unfastened it. Tossing the lacy scrap to lay on the floor beside his clothes, he resumed his attack on her breasts. Suckling first one then the other, his lips touched her nipples with tantalizing possessiveness. He teased them until they were hard and rosy with passion.

Becka felt his hand slide over the smooth plane of her stomach and beneath the band of her slacks. The mere touch of his hand sent a warming shiver through her. Kicking her shoes off, she lifted her hips and let him remove her slacks and thermals. She shivered uncontrollably as he trailed a hand up the inside of her thigh to the lace-covered mound at the juncture of her legs. As his hand slipped beneath the lace to caress her center, she gasped and softly called his name. TJ only smiled at her as he hooked his fingers under the thin lace of her panties and tugged. When they had joined the other clothes on the floor, he returned to his job.

Panting heavily, Becka spread her legs in invitation but TJ simply smiled once more and slid between her legs. She gasped and arched off the bed as his tongue found her center and began a gentle yet persistent stroking. Babbling incoherently, she let loose all constraints and sank below the surface of ecstasy. Her whole being compressed into a single churning knot in her stomach that exploded in mind-blowing sensations that rocked her to the very roots of her being. Long moments passed before awareness returned.

"Oh my god, TJ!" she breathlessly whispered in his ear. When had he moved up beside her? She didn't care as the gnawing in her stomach began to grow once more. Sliding a hand between them, she grasped him and began stroking. His arms circled around her and she felt his shudders as he surrendered to the pleasures of her hand.

Suddenly, he pushed her hand away and, rising to straddle her, pushed her legs apart and settled between them. The tip of his shaft teased her opening. He leaned forward to kiss her swollen lips, plundering the depths of her mouth. Slowly he eased inside taking his time, slowing when the sensations became overwhelming. He wanted this to last but realized that he was almost past the point of no return.

"I'm sorry, Becka," he grunted before ramming full length into her. With a few quick thrusts it was over and he collapsed beside her still held within the warmth of her body.

Feeling his now limp member, slide from her body, Becka ran a loving finger down the side of his face. "Don't be sorry, TJ. There's still plenty of time left. We'll get it right sooner.." she pause and grinned wickedly at him, "or later."

"Practice makes perfect?" he joked.

"Oh, I hope so!" she cooed. And practice they did. Long into the night they made love to each other trying to blot out all the loneliness they had lived with and the realization that when this night was over their new found happiness would end.

As dawn approached, Becka curled within the protective embrace of TJ's arms and legs. She never wanted to leave the security she had found within them. This is where she belonged. "TJ?" Becka softly whispered. When there was no answer, she whispered again, softer this time. "I love you, TJ. I've loved you since I met you in Chicago."

"And I love you," he breathed against the back of her neck. "I've known that since Chicago, too."

"You're awake?" Becka struggled to a seated position.

"You woke me," TJ answered then reached for her pulling her back into his embrace. Kissing the back of her neck, he ran his hands over her breasts fondling them until they were hard once more.

"You're insatiable!"

"No, Becka, I just can't get enough of you. I love you like I have never loved anyone before." Pausing, the vision of an eagle-engraved wedding band flashed across his thoughts and his voice gentled. "Marry me, Becka, make my life complete," he whispered in her ear.

Catching her breath, Becka rolled to face him. Grasping his face in her hands she studied his features. What she read in his eyes thrilled her. He loved her despite her background, despite the things she'd done. Love for her glowed from his eyes and she felt a knot rise in her throat. Fighting the tears that threatened to fall, she swooped down and kissed him, sucking on his lips, invading his mouth with her tongue, inhaling the musky smell of him as she pressed closer.

Pushing him back on the bed, she straddled his hips and lowered herself onto his shaft. Rocking slowly, she increased the rhythm until they moved in unison. Climaxing together, she collapsed on him, panting with exertion. This is where she wanted to be. This is where she belonged.

"Does that mean yes?" TJ's voice was husky as he massaged the small of her back.

Her heart shouted "yes" but her mind dredged up the one image that stopped her mouth from echoing what her heart wanted--Ben. How could she consent to marry the brother of the woman he loved? The woman who even now held his happiness in her hands? The woman who might be responsible for finally destroying her brother?

Her heart breaking, she spoke in a voice filled with pain. "Oh, dammit, TJ. If you were anyone other than who you are, I would marry you in a heartbeat but..."

"But what? But...we both have family that wouldn't understand? I know, Becka, I know but I had to ask anyway. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Dammit, TJ, why do Ben and Phil have to be such assholes? Why can't they straighten out the mess they're in? They love each other, why can't they see that? Why can't they see that they're destroying their happiness..."

"And ours..."

"And ours," she agreed. "Why, TJ, why?" She raised her tear-streaked face to him.

"I don't know, Becka, I truly don't know. All I know is that I love you and I don't want this night to end. I don't want to go back to Chicago alone."

"Then don't! Stay here with me." A hint of desperation entered her voice.

TJ ran a hand across her face brushing her hair back from her eyes. "You know I can't do that. Come with me to Chicago and we'll face Ben and Flip together."

Tucking her chin down, Becka sighed, "You know I can't do that either, TJ"

"Why not? You hate your job! Come to Chicago with me and we can work on Ben and Flip together!"

"I can't do that, TJ. You don't know how thin a thread Ben is hanging by. I don't know what is going to happen to him especially if she tells him she wants nothing to do with him. I'm worried, TJ, worried sick about him and your sister is the reason..."

"Are you forgetting what your brother did to Flip? I'm amazed that she's even considering him at all!" TJ interrupted her lament.

"No, I haven't forgotten. Oh, I don't know, TJ, I just don't know anymore." She rose from beside him and settled cross-legged on the bed beside him. "I wish they would hurry up and get this 'meeting' over with so everyone could get on with their lives."

"I do, too, Becka. It's not good for them nor for anyone that loves them." He paused a moment before taking one of her hands and bringing it to his lips. Pressing a kiss to her palm, he asked, his voice husky with desire, "What about us? What will we do if they don't get back together?"

"I guess that all depends on how they handle it. I love you, TJ, but I will never do anything to cause my brother any further hurt. If the very sight of you reminds him of your sister and that causes him pain then..."

Pulling her down into her arms, he whispered against her neck, "Becka, before I found you I had a hole in my soul. You've filled that hole and I am not going to let you go. If I have to drag Ben and Phil back together and hold them at gunpoint until they straighten out their differences then I will."

"Is that wise?" Becka breathed against his lips.

"They love each other, don't they?"

"I don't know about Phil but I do know about Ben. He has only ever loved her and his life has been miserable since he left her. Oh god, TJ, they have got to get back together!"

"For them?"

"Yes, for them," Becka replied then ran her tongue over his lips before invading his mouth. Pulling back, she added, "And for us."

"And until then?"

"Until then, you're going to make love to me until I scream for mercy then you're going to love me some more," she whispered as her hand trailed down between them.

Four hours later, TJ boarded his flight back to Chicago alone. He had loved Becka until she screamed for mercy then he had loved her some more. It was as if they both knew that this might have to last them a lifetime. He had left her with a promise to do everything in his power to get Ben and Phil back together. Unless Ben and Phil could put the past behind them and start anew, the chances of TJ and Becka claiming the happiness they had found with each other was unlikely and that was something TJ wasn't about to let happen. Whether they liked it or not, the continuing Ben and Phil saga had claimed two more victims. TJ would return to Chicago but he would leave his heart in Canada. Was it any wonder his insides felt like they were being ripped apart?

Ray carried the file folder in front of him like a shield. This car theft case was going nowhere and he felt like a rookie on his first case. How could something as straightforward as this turn into such a muddled mess? And why was the activity sporadic? What was the purpose behind the thefts other than to make a quick buck? There had to be some answers somewhere. There had to be.

"Whatcha got?" Stan asked as Ray dropped onto the chair behind his desk.

"Welsh got some info from the Seattle PD."

"And?"

Ray tossed the file across his desk onto Stan's. "It seems a similar car theft ring is in operation there."

Stan's eyes widened and he eagerly reached for the file. Flipping through it, he quickly read the pertinent information.

Ray waited patiently while Stan perused the file. "I think we may have been given our first real break of this case," he said when Stan leaned back in his chair, the file open to a rap sheet.

"Yeah," Stan agreed. A finger tapped the photo attached to the rap sheet. "That little weasel has a name, and it ain't Tommy Thomkins."

"You noticed?" Ray asked with grim humor.

"Samuel R. Jones aka 'Smooth' Sammy has a rap sheet as long as my arm." Flipping through the sheet, he added, "Seems he has a good lawyer, too. Arrested for auto theft, smuggling, gun running...it seems that Sammy has been moving up in the world. No convictions except for minor offenses and those are more than 10 years old. He's now a member in good standing with the Iguana family."

"So what's an up and coming criminal doing mowing down pedestrians in a stolen car?"

"Good question and why hasn't he been convicted before?" Stan asked his own question.

Ray leaned across the expanse of his desk and took the file folder. Flipping through it, he nodded his head then answered Stan's question, "No witnesses."

"Great! No witnesses, no case."

Ray closed the folder and, clasping his hands together, leaned forward over it. "Perhaps we should question our pedestrians and see if any of them can remember a little bit more about the incident. Maybe someone can ID Sammy now."

"A line-up?"

Ray nodded his head. "Maybe someone could pick him out of a line-up."

"It's worth a try. I'll take half and you take half. Maybe we can come up with something. Gimme some addresses."

Moments later, Ray handed Stan a short list of names and addresses. He pocketed a similar one. Nodding to each other, they headed out of the bullpen in search of a witness that could ID 'Smooth' Sammy.

"I'd like to speak to Dr. McKenzie," he spoke to the man at the desk.

Jeff eyed the stranger before answering, "Dr. McKenzie is unavailable. If you will leave your name and number, I'll have her contact you when she's able."

Ray sighed before flashing his badge. Speaking with confidence, he added, "She'll see me. Tell her it's Ray." He pocketed his badge.

"I'm sorry, Ray...?" Jeff paused, the question in his voice.

"Vecchio, Detective Ray Vecchio. I'm a friend of Phil's," Ray explained.

Jeff visibly relaxed. The badge had prompted his instinctual alertness and he had momentarily wondered if Phil was in some kind of trouble.

"I've got some questions to ask her about the accident of a couple of weeks ago."

"You've caught the bastard that hit her?" Jeff eagerly inquired.

"Not yet but I think we may have a lead. I need to talk to her about it."

Jeff studied the detective. Finally, he decided he could trust the man--if he really was a friend of Phil's. "You say you're a friend of Dr. McKenzie's? How do I know that?"

"Look, Mr. Bowers," Ray glanced at the nameplate on the desk, "I don't have time to chit-chat with you."

"And unless you got some kind of warrant..." Jeff began.

Ray waved off the implied stall. Motioning toward the door to Phil's office, he again stated, "Just tell Phil I'm here. She'll talk to me. I can guarantee it."

Jeff nodded his head and dialed Phil's number. After a short discussion, he hung up the phone. "I'm sorry, Det. Vecchio, but Phil's been through a lot lately and she doesn't need to be hassled by some over zealous cop."

"Yeah...I know about Martin," Ray spoke softly.

"You do? Ain't that a..." he sighed heavily before continuing, "anyway, Phil's sick and she should be resting instead of talking but she says to send you up anyway." He wrote a brief note and passed it to Ray. "Take the elevator. It's faster," he confided.

Phil hung up the phone and glanced about her. The apartment wasn't in too bad a shape. She hastily gathered some discarded tissues and stuffed them in the trash. Grabbing the quilt she'd covered herself with on the sofa, she hurried to the bedroom. Tossing the quilt over the bed, she headed for the dresser. Digging through one of the drawers, she came up with a faded blue set of sweats. She quickly pulled them on over her pajamas. Rushing to the bathroom, she ran a comb through her hair and slid her glasses on her face. A quick look in the mirror was enough to discourage her from any further attempts to look human. She looked like 'death warmed over' and nothing she could do would change that.

She hurried to the door when Ray knocked. Unlocking the locks, she opened the door to him. "Hi, Ray..." she began but was stopped by a sneeze that forced its way out. "I'm sorry, Ray," she said as she wiped her nose with a tissue. "I've got a cold."

"You can say that again!" Ray agreed as he entered Phil's apartment. Glancing around, he noted that even though there was ample evidence that Phil had a cold, the room was tastefully furnished. Weak sunlight filtered through the vertical blinds on a set of patio doors.

"Here, let me take your coat," Phil croaked.

"Laryngitis?" Ray asked as he handed the coat to Phil.

"Not yet," Phil replied, "just the remnants of a sore throat but it was close." Taking Ray's coat, she hung it in the closet.

"Jeff said something about the guy that hit me..." Phil began but was stopped by Ray.

"Don't talk, Phil. I'll explain what's going on and you can simply nod or shake your head. Okay?"

Phil smiled then disobeyed Ray's injunction. "Can I get you some coffee?" she whispered.

"What did I just say?" Ray grimaced at her but nodded his head. "Yeah, coffee would be fine."

Motioning with her hand, Phil instructed Ray to have a seat while she made the coffee. Being obstinate himself, he followed her into the kitchen and watched as she swept some tissues into the trash before washing her hands.

Removing two cups from the cupboard, Phil poured coffee into each. Turning around, she spied Ray seated at the bar. Shaking her head, she joined him at the bar. Placing the cups on the bar, she opened the refrigerator and retrieved a carton of Half-and-Half. Pulling a stool out, she seated herself then reached for the sugar. Fixing her coffee, she passed the sugar and Half-and-Half to Ray.

Ray sipped his coffee then launched into the reason for his visit. Phil listened as she, too, sipped her coffee.

When Ray finished, she spoke softly, "I'm sorry, Ray. The guy hit me from behind and I never even saw the car much less the driver."

"Damn! I was hoping that you might be able to pick him out of a line up."

Phil could only shake her head before mouthing 'I'm sorry' once more.

"No need to apologize. Can't have everything we want!" Deciding that that subject was dead, Ray decided to raise certain other issues that had bothered him. "How are things with you, Phil? We haven't heard anything since the trip ended."

Phil motioned with her hands. "I've got a cold as you can see," she whispered.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

Phil's eyes dropped. She knew exactly what he meant but she wasn't about to tell him about her decision. Ben was the only one she would tell that to. Glancing at Ray once more, she knew he wouldn't be satisfied with a put-off. "Martin...I...um...I'm no longer engaged to Martin," she finally stammered.

"I heard. In a way, that's good news, isn't it?" his voice rose in a question.

"Yeah," Phil half-heartedly agreed.

"So what are you gonna tell Benny?" Ray pushed.

A sneeze and a second one saved Phil. As she wiped her nose, Ray's cellphone chirped and he whipped it from his suit jacket.

"Vecchio," he spat into it. He listened for a moment then said, "I'll be right there." Returning the phone to his jacket, Ray rose to his feet.

"I gotta go, Phil. My partner may have come up with something."

Phil nodded and rose to her feet as well. She went to get Ray's coat and as she handed it to him he spoke once more.

"I'll have Ma make you some chicken soup or something for your cold. When I bring it over, we can finish this talk."

Phil nodded her head, wishing that Ray would just forget about it but knowing he wouldn't. She closed the door behind him and leaned against it. Why couldn't everyone just leave her alone? She knew what she needed to do and she didn't need anyone butting in with his or her well-meaning intentions. Sighing, she headed back to the kitchen where she rinsed Ray's cup out and placed it in the dishwasher. She finished her coffee and did the same with her cup.

Curling up on the sofa, she reached for the remote control. Flipping to the 'food' channel, she half-heartedly watched the program being aired. Unfortunately, her mind was unable to focus on the program. Her mind kept replaying Ray's visit. She knew that although she had escaped his interrogation this time, she wouldn't be as lucky the next. Maybe she could think of something to tell Ray that would satisfy him for the time being. Sighing, she knew that nothing short of complete reconciliation with Ben would satisfy him. How could she explain to Ray the reasons why that could never happen? How could she do that when she couldn't convince her own heart of that?

Frannie shifted from foot to foot as she waited for someone to answer the door. She hated these rich, hoity-toity apartment buildings with their security systems and alarms and such. After entering the old brownstone building she had softened her opinion as she'd glanced around at the foyer. 'Maybe not rich but definitely hoity-toity,' she had thought as she entered the elevator. Exiting the elevator, she had turned left and followed Ray's instructions. Placing the bags on the floor, she had rung the bell then rubbed her hands together wishing that Ray's girlfriend would hurry up and answer the door.

"Hello, who is it?" a raspy voice spoke from the other side of the door.

"Um, hi, I'm Ray's sister, Frannie. He couldn't make it so he asked me to bring over some food..." Frannie's voice trailed off. What else could she say? "Could you let me in so's I can drop off this food?" She hefted a bag to where it would be visible through the peephole.

"Ray's not with you?"

"No, he's busy on some case or other. He was real upset that he couldn't make it," she offered hoping to placate the girlfriend. Frannie really did want to meet her. Ray had not dated nor expressed any interest in a woman since Casey Sinclair. Maybe he had gotten over her and was ready to move on with his life. Too bad, though, she'd really liked Casey and it would have been cool to have a romance writer--no, not just any romance writer but Cassandra Hope--as a sister-in-law. The door opened and Frannie bustled into the apartment, sweeping past the slender woman who had opened the door.

Lifting one bag, she said, "This stuff is frozen and it needs to go into your freezer right away." She made a beeline for the kitchen and began placing various packages in the freezer compartment of the refrigerator. "This is still warm but it needs to be heated again," she said as she opened a cabinet and pulled out a pot. Placing it on the stove, she opened the container and poured its contents into it.

Glancing over her shoulder, she spoke to the woman standing in the doorway. "Ma made you some homemade chicken soup with dumplings. She says you need a little more than just noodles when you're sick." Emptying the rest of the sack, she placed the packages in the refrigerator then turned to regard the girlfriend--medium height, dark hair, slender, not exactly pretty but that was undoubtedly due to the cold and no make up.

"Thank you," the woman whispered.

"Think nothing of it. Just be glad that Ma didn't come over like she wanted to," Frannie quipped as she removed her leather jacket revealing black leggings and a bright red turtleneck.

Phil took one look at Ray's stylish sister and glanced down at the faded jeans and flannel shirt she wore. 'At least they're clean,' she thought and wished she had had enough warning to dress in something a little more feminine.

"Hi, I'm Phil," she rasped as she extended her hand then withdrew it. "Sorry, I don't need to share my cold with you."

Frannie smiled and nodded her head in understanding. "My name is Francesca but everyone calls me Frannie."

Phil's face split into a smile. "Welcome to my humble mess, Frannie," she said then sneezed violently. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she reached for a tissue.

"That's okay. Ray said you had a doozy of a cold."

Phil chuckled slightly before whispering, "He exaggerated a bit, I'm afraid. I'll probably go back to work tomorrow if my throat quits hurting. As long as it hurts it's hard to talk."

"Yeah, I know whatcha mean. I can't stand not being able to talk but, hey, you're doing a pretty good job of it anyway!"

Phil grimaced slightly before grinning. Motioning toward the breakfast bar, she asked, "Shall we?"

"Yeah, sure," Frannie said as she pulled out one of the stools and settled onto it. She nibbled on a cracker while Phil quickly drained the bowl of soup.

"That was delicious! Please give my thanks to your mother..."

"Think nothing of it! Ma loves to cook and the chance to fix something for Ray's new girlfriend was something she couldn't pass up."

The hand carrying the last spoonful of soup halted short of Phil's mouth. Phil glanced at Frannie then finished the spoonful of soup. Placing the spoon on the counter, she quietly replied, "I'm just a friend, Frannie, not a girlfriend."

"Says you."

"Says me...and Ray. He's in love with someone else," Phil quietly asserted.

"Yeah? Who?" Frannie asked knowing that Phil couldn't possibly know anything about Cassandra unless Ray had already told Phil about her.

"I happen to know for a fact that Ray is very much in love with a dear friend of mine, Casey Sinclair."

Frannie's eyes grew wide. If Phil knew Casey then she should also know that Casey was Cassandra Hope. "If you know Casey then who is she?"

"Casey is my brother's sister-in-law but I don't think that is what you meant by your question. Casey writes under the penname, Cassandra Hope. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Frannie simply nodded her head. If she wasn't Ray's new girlfriend, then where then did this woman fit into the grand scheme of things?

"Why don't we move into the living room? It's more comfortable in there," Phil continued. Frannie again nodded her head and rose.

"I'll fix us some coffee and join you in a moment," Phil added as Frannie left the kitchen.

Confused, Frannie left the kitchen still trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Who was this woman? Glancing around the apartment, her eyes were drawn to a wall of photos. Curious, she wandered over to the wall. Quickly scanning the photo collection her eyes settled on a small photo. Ben...but a much younger Ben. Why would Phil have a photo of Ben unless she knew him from a long time ago? Noises from the direction of the kitchen alerted her and she had just enough time to throw herself onto the large armchair beside the sofa before Phil bustled out of the kitchen with a tray and a coffee pot.

Quickly rising to her feet once more, Frannie reached for the tray. "Here, let me help you with that!"

"Thanks," Phil whispered as she settled onto the sofa.

Frannie settled back onto the chair she'd precipitously claimed. Not one to let opportunities pass, Frannie sprang to the attack. "If you're not Ray's new girlfriend then just who are you? How did you meet my brother?" 'And why do you have a photo of Benton?' she silently added.

"I met Ray..." Phil shook her head in wonderment. Where had the time gone? "I met Ray almost two months ago on a field trip in the Grand Canyon."

"Ray didn't mention..." she began then abruptly ceased. Comprehension dawned and Frannie stared at Phil through newly opened eyes. In a voice that seemed to come from a long way off, she said, "I didn't catch your last name."

Puzzled, Phil answered, "McKenzie."

Throwing her hands up, Frannie settled back into the chair. "That explains it! That explains everything! No wonder that lowlife of a brother of mine forgot to mention that fact! When I get hold of him, I'm gonna wring his scrawny neck before I tear his ears off and stuff them down his throat..." Frannie's tirade dwindled as she noticed Phil's reaction to it. "Gee, I'm sorry, Phil, it's just that..."

Phil waved a hand in negation before adding, "I have two brothers."

"Still, he should've warned me. He should've told me who you were."

Phil grew wary. Just what did Frannie think Ray should have warned her about? The only thing that came to mind was her non-relationship with Ben. Had Ray confided in his sister? Did Frannie know the whole sordid story? Just what did this fiery Italian woman know?

"What should he have warned you about?" she finally asked.

But Frannie did not hear the question. Springing from the chair, she began to pace about the room her hands in constant motion. "How dare he do this to me? After the shear amount of female tonnage I've put into trying to catch Benton, he sends me on an errand of mercy to the 'other' woman? How could he do this to me?"

Phil sagged back against the sofa. Listening to Frannie's rant, she knew that things had suddenly become more complicated. So, Frannie had run up against Ben's seeming indifference to women. Strange, Ben hadn't mentioned anything about Ray's sister.

"Look, I'm sorry, Phil," Frannie said as she once more seated herself on the chair. "You just took me by surprise. You're not what I expected."

Phil's elegant eyebrows rose a fraction. "What were you expecting? Aside from a new girlfriend for Ray?"

Frannie slid to the edge of the chair and leaned forward. "Ya gotta understand, Phil. I've loved Benton from the first moment I laid eyes on him but he never paid me no attention. No matter what I tried, it just didn't work. Ray said that 'guys like him don't marry girls like me' but I kept hoping anyway. Then Ray said that Benton could never love me 'cause he was in love with some other woman. And he wasn't the only one who said that. I didn't want to believe them but here you are and now Benton will never be mine. It's just not fair!" She dropped her face into her hands. If she could've produced some tears she would've but there were none forthcoming.

Phil sat in stunned silence. It seemed that Frannie knew everything that needed knowing. 'How ironic,' she thought. 'If only she knew just how muddled the real situation is, she wouldn't give up hope so easily.' "Frannie," she finally whispered, "nothing in life is fair. I should know. But to ease your mind, there is nothing between Ben and I and there never will be."

Frannie's head darted up quick enough to catch the fleeting shadow of pain that flitted across Phil's face. "What do you mean--never will be? Ray said you two were getting back together."

Phil rose to her feet and strolled over to the patio doors. Shaking her head slightly, she leaned against the cool glass. "We're not. We're not getting back together."

Frannie rose to her feet as well. Crossing the room she came to stand before the slender woman at the patio doors. "What do you mean? He loves you, isn't that enough?"

Phil turned her face away from Frannie's accusing stare. "No," she whispered in a voice filled with resignation.

Frannie stared at Phil. Impotent anger filled her as she thought about what Phil had just said, about the love she was so carelessly discarding. Grasping Phil by the shoulders, she swung her around and shook her hard. "Puntanesca! Non credo questo! Come ha potuto l'amore di Benton qualcuno gradirlo? Non conoscete che cosa avete! Non è giusto, io dovrebbe essere quello che ama. Non lo meritate..." (Author's note: loosely translated: "You whore! I don't believe this! Why can't Benton love someone who would appreciate him? You don't know what you have! It's not right! Why can't I be the one he loves? You don't deserve him...")

"Stop it! Stop it!" Phil spoke as loudly as she could. Grasping Frannie's hands, she forcefully removed them from her shoulders and shoved the Italian woman away from her. "I don't know what you just said but I have a good idea I won't like it." Her voice broke until she lowered it again to a whisper.

Frannie sighed in exasperation. "You're probably right. What I don't get is how can you not love Benton? I would give anything if he would just give me a chance. I could be so good to him and he would never be sad or lonely ever again. But, no, he loves you not me. You're no better than that Metcalf bitch..."

Phil's own anger flared. How dare this woman question her relationship with Ben? But to be compared to Victoria was the final straw. "I am nothing like that woman and I'll thank you to not mention her in my presence."

"You're just like her. You encouraged him and now you're dumping him. You...you puntanesca!" Frannie sneered.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming in here and blaming me for what's happened between Ben and me. You have absolutely no idea what happened. Without knowing the truth, you've got no right to judge me or my actions," Phil spat at Frannie.

"Then tell me the truth."

"You can't handle the truth," Phil shot back at her.

"Just try me!"

"Okay, I will! Ben's the one who dumped me for Victoria. He's the one who broke our engagement. He's the one who walked out on me when I was...when I needed him desperately." Phil hastily caught herself. She'd almost said 'pregnant'. Frannie definitely didn't need to know that nor did she need to know anything about Lindy. Breathing deeply, she continued, "He didn't have the nerve to tell me face to face instead he wrote me a Dear Jane letter. He's the one who broke my heart and now he wants to start all over again. How can I trust him after what he did to me? How? You tell me how!" Her voice cracked once more before dissolving into a series of sobs. Tears collected in the corners of her eyes.

Frannie stumbled back until she bumped against the armchair she had occupied earlier. Shocked, she dropped onto its padded seat and stared at Phil. "I don't believe you. You can't be telling the truth," she finally ground out.

Phil stared back, the tears streaming down her face. Once more in a whisper, she continued, "I really don't care whether you believe me or not."

"It can't be true. Benton would never do something like that!" Frannie averred.

"You don't believe me? Then ask Ben. Let him tell you the truth! Believe me, you don't know Ben half as well as I do. He's quite capable of doing just that!" Phil wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

"But...but he..."

Resignedly Phil interrupted Frannie's confusion. "It's called obsession, Frannie. Ben became obsessed with that woman and nothing else mattered to him. He wrote me a note telling me that he'd fallen in love with her and he was sorry but there could never be anything between us. He never contacted me after that. I tried to contact him several times but he refused my calls and returned my letters unopened."

As the truthfulness of Phil's words sunk in, Frannie's anger dissipated. "I'm sorry, Phil. I didn't know."

"How could you? It's not something that I enjoy discussing and I doubt very much that Ben likes for others to know that he has chinks in that 'Super Mountie' persona of his."

"But it's such a beautiful persona," Frannie quipped as a wistful look passed across her features.

Phil chuckled slightly. "Yes, it is but the person behind that facade is not whom everyone believes he is. I know a side of him that no one else has ever known..." her voice trailed off as memories fought to the surface of her thoughts.

Mistaking Phil's sudden lapse into silence, Frannie patted her hand. "And that's why you don't love Benton?"

Phil raised haunted eyes to regard Frannie. "I never said I didn't love him, Frannie. On the contrary, I have always loved him. Even though I know what loving him has done to me in the past, I can't help but still love him." The words caught in her throat and she swallowed several times trying to dislodge the lump there. Tears tracked unheeded down her cheeks.

Frannie stared at the woman seated on the sofa. The anguish in Phil's voice had not been lost on her. "If you love him then..."

"Then nothing, Frannie. Even though I love him, I don't trust him. How can I trust him after what he did to me? How can I trust any man?"

"What's there to trust? When you love someone you accept them for who they are not who you want them to be. You may know a side of Benton that no one else knows but there are sides to him that you don't know. I see how he treats people, how he cares for them. I've seen what his influence has done to my brother. I've seen the people around him change and become better people. Benton has a loving heart although he acts like he doesn't know what to do with it. You should see the way women throw themselves at him but he just ignores them."

"I have," Phil mumbled.

Frannie continued, apparently not hearing Phil's comment. "Benton is kind and gentle and generous to a fault. There's something about him that makes me want to hold him and take care of him--a vulnerability about him that he tries to hide but I can see it. I can see the sadness in his eyes and the way he hides the pain in his heart. I've always hoped that if he would just take a chance on me, I would show him what it meant to be loved and I would wipe away all his sorrow, but if he loves you--really loves you--then I never had a chance."

"I'm sorry, Frannie, but I don't know what to tell you. Ben still claims to love me but how can I be sure? He said that once before but then he threw my love away for that woman. How can I know that he won't do it again?"

Frannie slapped her hands on her thighs. "I think I'll have a little chat with Benton and find out."

Alarmed, Phil's hand shot out and grasped Frannie's arm. "No, you can't do that."

"And why not? You just told me to ask him!"

"This is between Ben and I. We've already had too many people interfering in our affairs. Please don't add to what we have to deal with," Phil pled.

"But...but.."

"Please, Frannie." Frannie sputtered to a stop. "I have promised Ben that we would get together and discuss everything. Until then, please don't...I already have too many things happening..."

"You need some breathing space?" Phil nodded her head. "Okay." She raised a well-manicured finger before continuing, "But you better have that talk with him soon." In the back of her mind she held her fingers crossed. She had every intention of pumping the unsuspecting Mountie for everything about Phil.

"Thank you, Frannie, and one thing more."

"Yeah?"

"Please don't tell Ben where I live. He doesn't know that I live in Chicago."

Frannie's eyes widened. Just what kind of game was Phil playing? She made plans right there on the spot to grill Ray when she saw him that evening. Someone, be it cop or Mountie, was going to answer her questions about Benton and Phil.

Rising to her feet, she smiled down at Phil before glancing at her watch. "I gotta go, Phil. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Phil snorted softly. "Don't you think you've done enough?"

Frannie grinned wickedly. "Not yet, I haven't! Don't worry, I haven't forgotten my promise," she quickly added.

Phil breathed a sigh of relief as she closed the door on Ray's sister. Although she hadn't understood the Italian, she had caught the general undertones. 'Too bad,' she thought, 'in another life, we might have been friends.'

Frannie left the old brownstone building. Turning, she gazed up at the ornate edifice. 'So that's the one and only Phil McKenzie.' Her heart sank as she realized that the talk she'd just had with Phil had delivered the deathblow to her hopes of finding love with Benton Fraser. She had hoped that she could overcome Benton's love of this woman in his past but discovering that Phil still loved him as much as he loved her had demolished that idea. Heavy of heart, she turned and headed toward her car. A stray thought teased her mind. 'It's too bad, I bet we could've been friends.'

It didn't take long for her to realize that she must have passed her car without knowing it. Retracing her steps to the brownstone, it finally hit her. Her car was gone! Someone had stolen her car. Scanning left and right, she searched for the comforting grey of her tiny car but it was not to be seen. Someone had definitely taken her car. Stamping her foot in frustration, she dug in her purse and pulled out her cellphone. She took her irritation out on the phone as she dialed Ray's number.

"Vecchio," Ray answered.

""Ray...my car...gone...my car..." The words tumbled forth.

"Frannie? Hold a minute, will ya?"

Through the receiver, Frannie caught bits and pieces of a conversation. Finally Ray came back on.

"Frannie? What's the problem? It better be good!"

"My car's gone, Ray. I came out of Phil's building and it's gone. Someone's stolen my car!"

Another muffled conversation was held before Ray again spoke. "Where are you?"

"I'm outside Phil's building."

"Phil?"

"Yeah, Phil. You know--Ben's girlfriend."

The silence on the other end was deafening. Finally, Ray spoke, "Okay, Frannie. Just stay put, we're on our way."

Just before she could ask if Benton was with him, she stopped herself. It was high time for her to stop being a nuisance where he was concerned. Glancing back at the building, she sighed. 'When it rains, it pours,' she thought. Life just wasn't fair.

"I ain't going anywhere, Ray. Just hurry, okay?"

"Okay."

Frannie flipped the phone shut and shoved it back in her purse. She glanced right and left once more hoping that she'd overlooked her car. Who in their right mind would want a little thing like her Toyota?

Ten minutes later, a black GTO pulled to the curb and Ray and Stan climbed from it's interior. "Frannie?" Ray called.

"Well it's about time!"

"Sorry, we got caught in a traffic jam a couple of blocks from here," Stan apologized.

"We're here now so tell us what happened." Ray answered.

Frannie decided now wasn't the proper time to go into the details of her visit with Phil. She decided to stick to the car part and hit her brother with the other when she had him alone. She didn't want to appear to be a shrew in front of Ray's partner. He seemed like a nice guy in a blonde kinda way. With that decided, she smiled at Stan then turned to her brother. "I came out of the building and headed for my car. I thought I had overlooked it but I checked several times and it just isn't here anymore. Some lowlife hairbottle took my car!"

Ray glanced at Stan as Stan glanced at him. Was it possible that their auto theft ring had struck so close to home? "Wait here, Frannie, while Stan and I check out things."

Stan motioned toward his car. "You can wait in my car, Miss Vecchio."

"Thank you, Stan, and you can call me Frannie."

Stan tucked his chin down before opening the door for her. "That's okay, Frannie," he replied before hurrying to catch up with Ray as he strode away from the GTO.

Frannie settled back against the black leather seat of the GTO. Running a hand over the rich upholstery, she smiled. Maybe things were looking up.

Five minutes later, the two men returned to the car. Frannie refused to move forcing Ray to sit in the back. He grumbled but Frannie decided that it was good for him. "Did you find anything?"

"Nothing! It's like your car sprouted wings and flew away and what's more, no one saw nothing," Stan replied after a quick glance at the woman beside him.

Ray, in the back seat, rolled his eyes. 'Oh, brother!' he thought. Maybe he should warn Stan about the Texas-sized crush Frannie had on Fraser but why bother? He'd find out soon enough for himself.

"All right, already!"

The rest of the ride to the police station passed in a semblance of silence. At the station, calls were made checking on any vehicles that had been towed. Frannie's car was not on the list. A call went out for information on abandoned vehicles with the same result. Frannie's car was gone.

"What am I going to do now?" Frannie wailed. "I just made my last payment on it!"

"I'd be happy to drive you to wherever you need to go," Stan volunteered.

Frannie smiled brightly. "Thank you, Stan. If I need a lift I'll be sure to think of you."

A shy smile spread across Stan's face but was quickly shuttered as Ray returned to his desk.

"I've put out an APB on your car, Frannie. Every cop in the city will be looking for your Toyota but I gotta tell ya, the chances of you getting it back ain't so good. At least not in one piece."

"Damn, I gotta call my insurance," Frannie wailed once more.

Ray stood quietly in the doorway of the small office and observed his friend's profile. Unaware of Ray's presence, Ben had let his stoic Mountie facade down and now stood in front of the window staring out over the gardens. Both hands were occupied in rubbing the ache in his back. Closing his eyes, he grimaced slightly and let a small moan slip past his lips before quickly stifling it.

Ray back-stepped away from the room. Feeling like he had just run a marathon, he spun on his heels and hurried down the corridor in the direction of the front doors. His chest felt like a giant hand was squeezing the breath from his lungs. His thoughts tumbled about as the same old litany played itself out. It was his fault that Benny's back was in the shape it was in. If only he hadn't fired his gun, if only Benny hadn't jumped in front of that bullet, if only that bitch had never shown up to wreak havoc on their lives, if only...

If only he could forgive himself for what he'd done to his best friend.

He made to the sanctuary of his car before losing his composure. Parked in the gloom of a stormy late afternoon, he knew no one could see the interior of his car unless they were within inches of its windows. The tears were already streaming down his face as he slid into the car and slammed the door shut. Grasping the steering wheel, he leaned forward and placed his forehead on the wheel. Gulping in great gasps of air, he could feel his body shuddering with his suppressed sobs. Yielding to the compulsive sobs that shook him, he threw his head back and wept aloud, rocking back and forth. Guilt was his only companion and that demon did little to assuage Ray's thoughts.

Long moments passed before there was a knock on the passenger door. Ray quickly clamped his lips together imprisoning a sob before wiping his face on the sleeve of his overcoat. The blur of red told him more than he wanted to know. He honestly didn't feel like facing Fraser at this moment. In fact, he didn't think he could ever face him again.

"Ray?" Ben wiped the moisture from the car window and peered inside. "Ray?" he asked again.

Sighing deeply, Ray leaned across the seat and unlocked the car door. Ben opened it and slid onto the seat beside him. "Yo, Benny, whatcha know?" he asked hoping his voice did not betray him.

Ben stared at Ray's profile wondering what had caused the obvious distress that Ray now sought to hide. "Constable Turnbull said that he had seen you leaving the Consulate. Why didn't you stop by my office?" He placed his Stetson on the dashboard and waited.

Ray sniffed loudly and immediately regretted the noise. He was certain that Mr. Bat Ears had heard it but Fraser seemed to have not noticed.

Realizing that Ray needed a moment more, Ben turned slightly and pulled the car seat forward. Diefenbaker hopped onto the seat and stuck his muzzle across the back of the front seat. He sniffed at Ray's collar before planting a small lick of sympathy on the exposed skin above the collar.

Ray reached across himself and patted the wolf's head. "Yeah, yeah, Dief," he half whispered. He waited while Fraser again closed the car door and turned to him.

"I...I forgot something," he finally stammered.

"Ah." Ben nodded to himself before asking, "And that would be?"

"Uh...something...I'll think of something," Ray spoke not realizing that he spoke aloud.

"Ray, is something wrong?" Ben asked as he stretched out a hand to lay on his friend's shoulder. He was somewhat taken aback when Ray shrugged out from under his hand.

Ray dropped his head until his chin rested on his chest. After a long moment of silence he spoke, "Yeah, Benny, something's wrong."

A frisson of fear raced up and down Ben's back. "Is someone hurt? Your family? Stan?"

Ray's head popped back up. "No, Benny, nothing has happened to my family or Stan but there is someone that's hurt and it's all my fault," Ray spoke with an air of finality.

"Tell me what happened, Ray. I'm sure that you're interpreting the situation incorrectly. You wouldn't hurt someone unless it was in the line of duty."

Ray spared a quick glance at his friend. The sympathy on Benny's face almost undid him. "I can't talk here, Benny," he finally said as he shifted his eyes forward once more. Starting the engine, he pulled the Riv away from the curb and drove away from the Consulate. If only he could drive away from the demon guilt that haunted him.

Ray drove in silence until he spotted what he was looking for. He pulled into the parking lot of a small bar and turned off the ignition. Glancing at his partner, he motioned with his head. "I need a drink." Opening the door, he slid his lanky frame from the car and stalked toward the door of the bar, his overcoat flapping in the slight breeze that accompanied the omnipresent drizzle.

Ben glanced at the wolf in the backseat. "When I come back I expect to find you here...in the car."

Dief snorted and spared Alpha Male a bored look before dropping down to lie on the seat. He knew something was wrong with Fancy Man and he was willing to wait in the cushy comfort of the car until Alpha Male had helped their packmate. He didn't much care for rain of any sort anyway.

The bartender glanced over Ray's shoulder to the man in red now standing there. "Sure thing, matey, but wouldja care for something a wee bit stronger?" he asked of Ben.

"Ginger ale will be fine for me, " Ben answered. He watched as the bartender prepared their drinks and accepted his when it was handed to him. He followed Ray across the room and settled across from him in the booth Ray had chosen.

Ray tossed the drink back and ordered another one. When it arrived, he nursed it a moment before tossing it back as well. As he raised his hand to order another, Ben's shot out and stopped him. "I know what I'm doing, Benny," Ray quietly remonstrated and, freeing his hand, ordered another drink.

"You do not normally drink like this, Ray," Ben began but was interrupted by the appearance of Ray's third drink.

"How 'bout you? You ready for a refill?" the bartender asked of Ben.

"Thank you kindly but, no, sir, I'm not ready for another."

When the bartender was out of earshot, Ben began again. "What is troubling you, Ray? You do not normally drink and whatever has happened to cause this aberration in your behavior..."

"Aberration? Speak English, Benny," Ray growled.

"Aberration: behavior that departs substantially from the right or normal pattern for an individual."

"I didn't need that, Mr. Encyclopedia."

"I believe you mean Mr. Diction..."

Ray's hand slammed down on the table making their glasses jump. "Can you just cut the crap for a minute, Benny?" He ran a hand over his closely cropped hair then dropped it to grasp his drink.

"As you wish," Ben placated, placing his hands together and resting them on the tabletop.

"And stop that, too!"

"Stop what, Ray?"

"That! Don't look at me like that."

"Like what, Ray?"

"Like that. " He waved a hand in Ben's direction. "Just don't look at me, will ya?"

"As you wish," Ben answered once more then slid to the end of the booth and turned so that his back faced Ray and he looked out over the dim interior of the bar.

Propping his elbows on the tabletop, Ray sighed deeply before dropping his face into his hands. "That's not what I meant, Benny," he mumbled.

"What did you mean, Ray?" Ben asked but did not turn from his perch on the end of the bench.

"Turn your butt around and get it back in here." He waited while Ben once more slid down the seat to face him. "I'm sorry, Benny. I just...I just can't take that look in your eyes right now."

Puzzled, Ben queried, "What look?"

"That 'you're my best friend and together we can solve anything' look." Ray stared down at the amber liquid in his glass. Tossing it back, he set the empty glass on the table and ran a finger around the rim. "I just can't take it anymore, Benny. I just can't!"

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Ray."

"I know you don't, Benny, and that makes it even worse."

"Perhaps..."

"Perhaps nothing," Ray sighed. Glancing up from his glass, he briefly scanned Ben's face before dropping his eyes once more. "How's your back?" he finally asked.

The question from left field confused Ben even more. "My..my back?" he stammered.

Ray's eyes rose once more and he stared steadily into the Mountie's face. "Yeah, Benny, your back."

"My back is fine, Ray," he began but stopped when he saw the disbelief on Ray's face.

Motioning for another drink, Ray said, "Don't lie to me, Benny. I saw you in your office. I know your back is bothering you."

Unable to meet Ray's eyes, Ben stared at his glass of ginger ale. Sipping from it, he stalled for time. "My back only bothers me occasionally, Ray," he spoke quietly hoping that Ray would not hear the lie behind his words.

"That's a load of bullshit, Benny, and you and I both know it!" Ray angrily replied.

"But..."

"Don't but me, Benny. I know your back has been giving you trouble since the explosion. I know it's getting worse and I know it's my fault your back is in the shape it's in." There! He'd finally said it.

Ben sank back into the padded comfort of the booth. So that was Ray's problem. He had thought that they had resolved that issue years ago but it looked like Ray still harbored guilty feelings about the incident that had changed their lives. "Ray," he began, "You know that I do not blame you for what happened. If anyone is to blame it is Victoria."

Ray turned his head aside and stared at the approaching bartender. "Thanks," he mumbled as the glass was placed on the table. Grasping the glass, he stared into the depths of the whiskey. "I know that's what you say, Benny, but the truth is I shot you and now your back is acting up. If I hadn't shot..."

"If you hadn't shot me, I would have gone with Victoria and lost everything that matters to me. And I would have lost any chance I ever had to make things right with Phil." Ben placed a hand on the hand that grasped the whiskey. "Ray, you made it possible for me to finally find what I've searched for for years. If you hadn't stopped me, I would be damned for life and living in purgatory right now--if I were still alive. The ache in my back is a small price to pay for that."

"But..."

"No buts, Ray. Because of what you did, I have a chance with Phil. For once in my life, the demons that have plagued me for years are not so bad and I owe it all to you. Don't ever doubt that, Ray. You did me a favor back there on that train platform. You saved me from myself. I can never thank you enough."

"Benny..."

"No, Ray, no regrets, no guilt, no second thoughts. It's over and done with and now we have to move on with our lives and because of you, my life will soon contain the woman I love. How can I ever thank you for that?"

"But I didn't do anything."

"You are my friend and that's all that matters."

Ray stared at the hand that lay so lightly on his. He loosed his grasped on the glass of whiskey and pushed it aside. Ben's hand left his and joined its partner on the table in front of the Mountie. Glancing up at Ben's face, Ray noticed the shadow that lurked in his eyes. Tilting his head, he asked, "When's the last time you visited the doc?"

Ben's eyes widened before they dropped. "I saw Dr. McKenzie last week."

"And what did he have to say?"

"He said I was doing..."

"If you say FINE, I'm gonna punch your lights out," Ray threatened.

Ben smiled briefly before continuing, "He said my back was as well as can be expected due to the circumstances."

"What circumstances, Benny, and don't even think about lying to me 'cause I'll find out from McKenzie if I have to."

Ben in turn studied the pale golden liquid in his glass. He hadn't wanted to burden Ray with any further knowledge about the condition of his back. He had been fearful of just such an occurrence as this. However, it seemed like his efforts to spare his friend had been in vain and he knew that Ray's threat wasn't an idle one. Briefly he rued the day he'd declared Ray as his next of kin. Maybe he should change that to Becka so this wouldn't happen again.

"I know you're stalling, Benny, so out with it already."

Ben sighed heavily then answered with staid calmness, "The bullet has shifted." He waited for Ray's response knowing that it would be explosive.

"What?" Ray half rose from his seat.

"It poses no real problem at the moment," Ben half lied.

Ray dropped back down on his seat. His face was pale as he ran a hand across it. Grabbing his drink, he tossed it back then slammed the glass on the table. "And just what does that mean--no real problem at the moment?"

"It simply means that at some point in the future I will have to have the bullet removed."

"But didn't the docs say it couldn't be removed without causing more damage?"

"The bullet is moving away from the spine and Dr. McKenzie feels that it may be possible to remove it without causing further damage."

"How soon?"

"Not for some time, Ray."

"How soon, Benny?" Ray persisted.

"I have things I need to straighten up before I can submit to that kind of invasive surgery."

Ray's hands came into play. "Things? Benny, nothing is more important than your health. What things are more important than that?"

"Phil." Ben let her name drop into the conversation like a pebble into calm lake water. He again waited for the ripples to reach Ray.

"Phil? What's she got to do with this?"

"She has everything to do with this."

"How do you figure that?"

"I will not submit to surgery until I have straightened things out with Phil." Ben's jaw was set in stubborn lines.

"So...the longer she drags things out, the longer you will wait to have your back fixed." Ray felt his anger rising.

"Essentially that is correct, Ray."

Ray rose to his feet. "Then it's about time someone lit a fire under her caboose. If she knew..."

"You will not tell her about anything we have discussed, Ray." Ben's voice carried a quiet certainty.

"But if she knew..."

"I do not want Phil to come to me out of a mistaken feeling of sympathy or whatever. When she comes to me, and I have no doubt of that, I want it to be because she wants to...not because she feels she has to. Please, Ray, don't," Ben quietly begged.

Ray dropped back down onto the seat. "But, Benny, she would want to know this."

"I realize that, Ray, and I will tell her but only after we have straightened things out between us."

Ray's eyebrows rose in a sharp arc and a look of skepticism passed across his features. A sudden thought came to him and Ray asked, "What about Cat? Have you told her the latest news?"

The 'deer-in-the-spotlight' look flickered onto Ben's face before he replied, "Ah, no, I haven't had a chance to uh...to uh..."

"Chicken!" Ray crowed.

"I am not chicken! I simply have not had the time to give her a call. I have been working late at the consulate each evening and it is late when I get back to my apartment and I do not like to disturb my neighbors that late to use their phone."

"Admit it, Benny, you're afraid of what Cat might say to you."

Ben tugged at the collar of his tunic. "I have never been afraid of anything Cat might say to me."

"Yeah, sure!"

"Honestly, Ray, I do intend to phone Cat but I wanted to wait until I had something positive to tell her."

"Phil?"

Ben nodded his head. "I will call Cat, Ray, I promise. In the meantime, I again ask you not to contact Phil. She doesn't need to know about my back, at least not yet. When the time is right, I'll tell her."

Ray could only recall how Phil had claimed almost the same thing when she'd told him about her daughter. There was indeed a lot of information that would have to be shared before his friend and the woman he loved could start anew--if they could get past their differences. Saddened that he must now hide this information from Phil just as he kept the information about his daughter from Ben, Ray could only nod his head in acquiescence. He hated the role he was being forced into. It was just another demon that would continue to plague his sleep.

"Let's get outta here, Benny," he finally choked out.

"Certainly, Ray, but first I have another request to make."

Ray lifted his eyes to stare across the table at his friend. What could Ben possibly want now? Fearfully, he nodded his head.

"Please give me the keys to your car, Ray. You've had too much to drink and 'friends don't let friends drive drunk'."

Ray smiled slowly but passed his car keys to Ben. He grumbled loudly but was secretly pleased that Ben was concerned for his safety. "Let's go home," he finally answered.

Diefenbaker stared at the humans as they entered or left the building. Ever vigilant, he carefully scrutinized each female seeking the elusive scent of the Lavender Woman. He intrinsically knew that it was a weakness in wolfkind and hated to admit it to himself but all humans looked alike. Fortunately, he'd lived with Alpha Male long enough to be able to distinguish one from another but it was still primarily with his sense of smell that he identified individuals. He knew with a certainty that the Lavender Woman frequented this building. Patience was his middle name--Diefenbaker Patience Wolf--and he could wait for however long it took. He could do this. He could. He was an arctic wolf.

Voices drifted to him from a cab that had pulled to the curb. Dief's lupine brow wrinkled in concentration as his sensitive nostrils searched for the scent. The human male was familiar but the scent that drifted to his nose lacked something. He couldn't quite put his paw on it but he knew that he knew this human. Rising to his feet he advanced slowly testing the air for the missing scents. A slight breeze fanned his nostrils and all thought for the missing scents was swept away.

Dief stared at the familiar male as he helped a female from the cab. The scent of lavender was strong on the breeze as the female stood beside the male. Slowly he approached his prey, sensitive nostrils flaring as he gathered more information.

"Oh, look, Rob," Phil exclaimed, "Isn't that the most beautiful dog you've ever seen? I wonder what breed it is."

Rob glanced over his shoulder expecting a golden retriever or a lab not the white wolf that inched closer and closer to him and his sister. Recognition dawned and he quickly scanned the sidewalk in both directions searching for the wolf's companion. He didn't see Fraser anywhere but he knew that if the wolf was here then Ben couldn't be far away. Grasping Phil's elbow, he dragged he in the direction of the brownstone housing her offices as well as her apartment. "Come on, Flip, we don't have time to stop and admire each dog you see."

Phil yanked her arm from her brother's grasp and spun on him. "What's gotten into you? One minute you're my brother and the next you're some alien slug that's crawled out from under a rock!" She bent slightly and held out her hand to the dog.

Rob grabbed her arm and forcefully pulled her away from the wolf. "Don't!" he cried in alarm. "He might bite."

Dief wrinkled his nose. Closer proximity with the familiar male brought the other scents to his nostrils. He recognized the male now. He was Medicine Man, the one that had tended Alpha Male in the place of bad smells and great food. Dropping on his back haunches, he let his tongue loll from his mouth.

*Woof* he greeted the human and wagged his tail for good measure.

"He might bite?" Phil's eyebrows rose as she cocked her head and glared at her brother. Shifting her sight to the large dog blocking their way, she noted the raised paw. "Does he look like he's going to bite? Will you bite me?" she asked the dog.

Dief snorted. Bite Lavender Woman? Not if he valued his hide. He extended his paw again. Humans always fell for that trick.

Phil grasped the paw and shook it. She then extended her hand and let the dog catch her scent before tentatively scratching behind his ears.

"Flip, I wish you wouldn't do that!" Rob again searched the crowds for Fraser.

"Why not, Rob?" Phil straightened then turned to her brother. "He's obviously well fed, has impeccable manners, and..."

"...belongs to Ben Fraser," Rob finished for her. A sharp intake of breath was enough to let him know that she realized what he was trying to tell her.

Phil stared down at the dog...no, make that wolf. "Diefenbaker?" she squeaked.

Dief grinned as only a wolf can, exposing his large canine teeth. Dancing on his hind feet, he woofed once more.

"This is Ben's wolf?" she asked as she too scanned the people searching for Ben's face.

"Yes," Rob answered, "I recognize him from the time I allowed him to stay with Fraser while he was in the hospital." Grasping her elbow once more, he now found that she was not the least resistant to being propelled in the direction of the door of her building.

"Why?" she queried, the confusion plain on her face.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

Lost in their own discussion, neither Rob nor Phil noticed the shadow of the wolf following in their tracks. They didn't notice him sneak through the door nor did they notice the wolf settle into the corner of the elevator car.

"I don't think..."

"I don't care what you think, Rob. I already know about the shooting and the circumstances surrounding Ben's stay in the hospital. There's really nothing you can tell me that I don't already know except why?"

Exiting the elevator, the shadow followed the couple to the door and sneaked inside before the door shut. The scent of the Lavender Woman permeated the air. This was surely her lair. He settled under the piano and watched Lavender Woman and Medicine Man talk. Testing the scents produced by each, studying their behavior, watching their body language, Dief finally identified the couple as littermates. Medicine Man was not a rival for the affections of Alpha Male. He breathed a sigh of relief. In his current state, Dief doubted that his packmate could best Medicine Man.

Rob ran a hand across his face. Nodding his head in acquiescence, he motioned toward the kitchen. "How about some coffee first?"

Feeling a sense of deja vu, Phil led the way to her kitchen and, as she had done on that morning almost three weeks past, made coffee and wondered what else her companion was hiding from her. Clutching her cup of coffee like a shield, she settled onto one of the stools at her bar and watched her brother organize his thoughts.

"Why did you allow Ben's wolf in the hospital? Isn't that a major no-no?"

Rob sighed and cast a glance at Phil's face. Finally, he began his story. "When they wheeled him into the operating theater, his chances of survival were slim." He nervously ran a hand through his hair causing it to stand on end. "God, Flip, I didn't know who it was until I caught a glimpse of his face when I asked the anesthesiologist a question. I almost dropped my scalpel. I should have called in another doctor to take over but I couldn't do that. All I could think of was how his death would affect you. I hated him for what he did to you and I wasn't about to let him die and cause you more grief." Rising to his feet, he paced the length of the kitchen the returned to stand over his sister.

"Flip, I...I honestly don't know anymore if what I did then was right."

A cold shiver coursed through her being. "What do you mean, Rob?"

He turned from her and, making a fist, beat it into the palm of his other hand. "I don't know, Flip. Was I too cautious? Could I have removed that bullet? I don't know anymore. I didn't want him to die...but more than that...I just don't know." He shook his head before burying his face in his hands.

Phil rose from her seat and approached her brother. As she had done with Martin, she wrapped her arms around him and placed a kiss on the nape of his neck. "Rob, you're the best doctor I know. I have never seen you let personal feelings enter into how you treated a patient. You have no idea the relief I felt when I heard it was you that treated Ben when he was injured. I know he received the best of care and that's all that I can ask of you--all that anyone can ask." Gently turning him to face her, she took his hands in hers and kissed his fingers. "Rob," she asked, "have I ever thanked you for saving his life?"

"No," he softly replied as he gazed down into Phil's face.

"Then let me thank you now." She slipped her arms about his waist and hugged him tightly. After a moment, Rob slid his arms around her slight frame and hugged back.

"This doesn't mean I like him. I can't forget what he did to you and I can't understand why you are even thinking of him anymore. You've got to move on and find someone else, Flip."

"Like Martin?"

"I'm sorry, Flip, I was wrong when I pushed you two together. I still can't believe he did that to you. If I ever lay eyes on...."

"Don't, Rob! He was your best friend. Don't let the fact that we discovered that we didn't love each other enough to marry change that."

"But..."

"But nothing. It doesn't matter that he acted on that knowledge in the manner that he did. I would have rather find out before I married him than after. I'm happy for him. Really, I am," she sought to assure him.

Rob nodded his head slightly. "I know you are, Flip. I just wish you were happy, too."

"I don't worry about it, Rob. My life is full--I have my friends and family. What more could I want?"

"Benton Fraser?"

Phil's arms dropped from her brother's waist. Stepping away from him, she swallowed hard. "That's a low blow and you know it," she finally spat at him.

"I'm sorry, Flip, it just slipped out. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Then why did you say it if you didn't mean anything?"

Rob ran a hand across his face. Phil recognized the gesture as Rob's way of stalling for time. She silently waited for an answer.

"I guess I'm not sure if I like the idea of you and him. I don't want to see you hurt again, Flip. I love you too much to stand back and watch you hurtling down a path that's bound to end in disaster."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't but the past speaks loudly..."

"I don't care how loud it speaks to you, Rob. I just know how it speaks to me. You're happily married to a great woman. You've got a wonderful family. I, on the other hand, can't seem to find the right man. Everyone I ever got close to never followed through. When it came to marriage, they all left me. All of them. What's wrong with me, Rob? Why can't I find the right man?"

"Flip," Rob whispered as he took her in his arms and rocked her as the sobs shook her body. How could he answer her question when he could find no good reason for her loneliness? Even his best friend had abandoned her. "Flip," he whispered again, "I know you probably don't believe this but there is someone out there for you. When you meet him, you will know it. It's a feeling that is unmistakable."

Phil nodded her head against his chest. She mumbled a reply.

Grasping her shoulders, Rob drew her away from him. "What was that?"

Phil sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. "I said I knew the feeling. I have experienced it before."

"Benton Fraser?" he quietly asked.

Phil bobbed her head once before sliding back into his arms. "What am I going to do?" she softly pled against his suit jacket.

Kissing the crown of her head, he softly replied, "I don't know, Flip, I don't know. Just whatever you do, please be careful. I don't want you hurt again. Promise me?"

"I promise," she whispered.

"If it will ease your mind, Flip, there are times when I wish things were different and Ben and I were still friends."

Phil smiled and hugged her brother once more. "Thanks, Rob, I'm glad you told me that," she whispered.

"There's something else, Flip, something I've been reluctant to tell you."

Leaning back in his embrace, Phil searched Rob's face. Cautiously she asked, "What is it?"

Dropping his arms from about her, Rob turned and reached for his coffee cup. Downing its now tepid contents, he organized his thoughts. "I saw Ben last week."

"You what?"

Rob turned to gaze at Phil. "He is my patient, Flip, and I do occasionally see my patients."

"I'm sorry, Rob, you just took me by surprise."

"Anyway, I saw Ben last week and he wants to talk to you. I said I would pass the message on to you and let you decide."

"You didn't..."

"No, I didn't tell him you live here as well," Rob replied as he shook his head.

Phil sighed heavily. "Thanks," she whispered.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet, Rob. I promised him that we would talk after we got back from the trip but then Martin..."

"Martin was captured then released..."

"Then he broke our engagement and I got sick and..."

"...and you've been stalling for time..."

Phil hung her head. When she answered, it was in a soft whisper, "Yes."

Taking her into his arms once more, Rob smoothed the hair out of her face and planted a kiss on her forehead. "You've got to end this once and for all, Flip. You can't go on like this. It's not healthy."

"I know, Rob, but I just haven't had the courage to face Ben and tell him what I need to tell him."

Rob's heart sank. He knew exactly what Phil meant. "You're going to tell him about Lindy?" he asked with sympathy in his voice. Nodding her head, Phil was unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Hugging her tightly, Rob whispered against her hair, "It's about time, Flip. Maybe if you share your grief with Ben you can finally have some peace in your life."

"Maybe, maybe not...I just don't know anymore."

"Don't worry, Flip, you'll handle it all right. Then maybe you and Ben can finally get on with your lives."

Leaning back, she stared up at the face above her. "You mean that you wouldn't object to Ben and I getting back together?"

"I don't know, Flip. All I do know is that I want you to be happy. If that means letting him back into your life, then..."

"I don't know if it will come to that. There are a lot of things that he has to answer for before I can even think along those lines. I don't know if I can ever trust him, Rob. I don't know if I can ever trust any man again."

Sighing, Rob hugged her again. "Don't pass judgement on the male half of the human race just yet, Flip. Give Ben a chance to explain what happened. Don't condemn him without a trial...after that, you can make your decisions. Just don't do anything foolhardy beforehand. Okay?"

Phil nodded. "Okay."

As Phil bade farewell to her brother, neither one noticed the wolf beneath the piano. Dief had not moved from his post but had simply watched and observed the interaction between Lavender Woman and her littermate. As Lavender Woman closed the door and locked it, he rose from his post and crossed to sit at her feet.

"Where did you come from?" Phil queried as she did a quick two-step to avoid stepping on the wolf.

*Woof* he answered but stopped as another scent reached him. Feline, male--he categorized the scent. A black shape slithered from the bedroom and arched his back. A hiss issued from the cat's throat.

"Chance!" Phil yelped, afraid that the wolf would harm her cat. She raced toward the black cat trying to chase him back into the bedroom where she could close the door and keep him safe. Chance had other ideas in mind. Deftly avoiding Phil's advance, he sped for the intruder in his domain.

*Yowl* he spat at the wolf.

Dief sneered at the cat. Why with one swipe of his paw he could send that pathetic animal flying. It was a tempting thought until the memories of Cat Woman's cats crossed his mind. He liked Sheila and Bella. If this cat belonged to Lavender Woman then he would have to get used to it if his plans to mate Alpha Male with her were to work out. He woofed a greeting at the cat using the same voice he used with Bella and Sheila.

Chance halted his mad dash at the intruder. Instead, he satisfied himself with putting on a display of feline indignation. He pranced on his toes, arching his back, and fluffing his tail until it was twice its normal size. For good measure, he threw in a hiss or two. The intruder was unimpressed with his display. When the intruder spoke to him, he was startled and temporarily lost his place in the 'display of feline indignation'. He'd just have to start over at the beginning.

Phil watched in horror as Chance swept past her and made a beeline for the wolf. She was certain that her cat was racing to his death. When Diefenbaker remained seated, ignoring Chance's display, she relaxed slightly. After all, Dief was familiar with Cat's cats and Chance was Bella's kitten. Maybe he knew that. But just to make sure, she dropped to her knees in front of the wolf and spoke to him, mindful of what Ray had told him about the wolf's deafness.

"Dief? May I call you Dief?"

*Woof*

She took that as an affirmative. "Dief, I know you like Cat Madden's cats and I just wanted to let you know that this is Chance, one of Bella's kittens."

That explained the feeling of familiarity that he'd experience when the cat had charged him. He woofed a greeting to the cat once more and this time the cat responded. In the language of wolves and cats, a few grunts, whines, yowls, and woofs can convey an immense amount of information. In no time, Dief and Chance had exchanged life histories, compared genealogies, and decided on a course of action to mate Lavender Woman and Alpha Male.

Chance eyed Dief's twitching tail. It was mesmerizing and his eyes followed each movement with an intensity that was almost palpable.

Dief recognized the look and groaned. 'Cats,' he sighed.

Phil watched in horror once more as Chance sprang for Dief's tail. The wolf glanced at Phil and the look in his eyes calmed her fears. The look of longsuffering was quickly replaced by deviltry as he spun about and gave chase to the cat.

Phil rose to her feet and gave chase as well. She followed them into the bedroom only to see Chance speed out of the bathroom and past her. The wolf remained in the bathroom. Phil hurried to the small room and stared in dismay at the sight that greeted her. Diefenbaker sat in the middle of her small bath licking furiously at his coat. Standing, he shook vigorously, a cloud of lavender scented bath salts drifting from his fur. The gift from Cat Madden, the box of lavender scented bath salts now lay on the floor, its contents strewn liberally across the floor and one very disgusted wolf. She was also quite sure that a certain black cat probably smelled of lavender as well.

Sighing in irritation, she motioned for Dief to leave the bathroom. He sulked as he left the room. He'd catch that cat next time, he vowed.

"It's time for you to go home, Dief," Phil spoke as she opened the door of her apartment.

*Woof* he bade farewell and shot out of the apartment. If he hurried, he could make it back to the lair before Alpha Male returned and discovered him gone. He had had enough lectures about staying put when Alpha Male was gone on business with Fancy Man and Turtle Man. Dief liked the new human; he just hadn't figured him out yet.

Once more on the sidewalk, he gave himself another vigorous shake. Lavender--he reeked of the smell. It was insult added to injury--bested by a cat and smelling of lavender. He was suddenly very glad there were no other wolves in Chicago. The local dogs were bad enough. How would he ever explain it to them? A short detour to an alleyway and a roll in a rubbish heap helped his disposition slightly. Maybe he could rid himself of the smell before any other canines noticed.

Was it any wonder that Ben occasionally caught a faint whiff of lavender? Was it any wonder that his thoughts immediately turned to Phil? Was it any wonder that he questioned her continued silence? Was it any wonder that he felt himself on an emotional rollercoaster ride?

Was it any wonder that Dief noticed and, in turn, wondered why Alpha Male did not establish his claim to the Lavender Woman before some other male did? Was it any wonder that he resolved to protect his packmate's choice of females from the overtures of other human males?

Dief stared at the silent figure asleep on the bedroll by the window. Huffing slightly, he rose and circled before settling once more on the narrow bed. Closing his eyes, he drifted closer to sleep. His final waking thoughts: *you save a human's life and they make you pay and pay and pay...*

Ben cautiously opened the door of the closet not quite sure what he expected to find. The sounds of construction had ceased and the ensuing silence was deafening. For three days he'd withstood the temptation to check in the closet but curiosity had finally won. Closing his eyes against whatever might greet them, he pushed the door open and stepped inside the closet. One way or another he would finally know whether or not his bag of marbles had a hole in it.

Acclimating himself to the small space within the closet, Ben slowed his breathing and listened. His acute hearing picked up the normal sounds coming from the street outside, the movements of Turnbull in the kitchen, the scrape of Inspector Thatcher's chair as she worked at her desk, and the sound of a crackling fire.

"Well, don't just stand there, close the door! Your grandparents didn't raise you in a barn," Bob Fraser beckoned from behind a formidable desk.

Startled, Ben's eyes flew open. "Dad?" he choked out.

"Don't stand there gaping like a mackerel, Son. Close the door and come on it."

Ben slowly closed the door behind him and, pushing aside a spare uniform, entered the newly constructed office of Sergeant Robert Fraser, RCMP, deceased, certain that a new demon had taken up residence in his office closet.

Phil peeled the address label off the strip of paper and attached it to the carton containing the last of the trip albums. The address stared up at her mocking her with its reminders of a different time...a different place. Constable Benton Fraser, it read, Canadian Consulate, Chicago, Illinois. This was Ben's trip album. It contained all the photos Phil had handpicked as a reminder of their journey together through the Grand Canyon. What the photos could not convey were the awakened emotions and awareness that united her with Ben. They could not convey the love she still had for this man nor could they convey the confusion she felt. All they could do was document a brief period of time when two humans came within a hairsbreadth of reestablishing a relationship that had died years earlier.

Phil did not need to look inside the album. She knew each and every photo by heart because her heart was responsible for each choice. She knew now that her choices had affirmed over and over her love for Ben. If he could only read between the lines, he could so easily read her heart. When she'd opened the album after receiving it back from the binders, her heart had sank. She had revealed too much in her choice of photos but it was too late to do it over. What did it matter if her love for him was evident? He already knew that. What he didn't know was whether or not she could forgive him. She didn't even know the answer to that question herself.

Could she forgive him? Could she put the past behind them? Could she once more open her heart to the man she'd given it to years earlier? Could she freely accept his love and not wonder if he still longed for Victoria? Could she take a chance on love once more?

Fingering the chain around her neck, she pondered these questions, searching for answers that weren't there. Finally, she spun away from the table containing the packages of trip albums. With a purposeful stride, she headed toward her office. Once inside that sanctuary, she reached for her purse and drew forth the letter she'd written two weeks earlier in a Nyquil induced snit. With neat, quick movements she tore the note into strips then the strips into pieces. When no piece was larger than the nail on her little finger, she dropped them in the trashcan.

Sighing, she settled into her chair and chewed nervously on a fingernail. Placing pen to paper, she began a short note to include in the trip album. Maybe it was time to talk to Ben.

 Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me: Cat Madden belongs to Carol Trendall and is used with permission. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.

Lyrics from The Ghosts that Haunt Me by Crash Test Dummies are used without permission.

Copyright January 2001 by Cassandra Hope