�Uh, Danny? I�m meeting my new partner this evening. I�m taking her to dinner to get to know her,� Diane began. She wanted to laugh when she saw the surprise on Danny�s face, and she managed to suppress a grin. With a serious face, she said, �I�d invite you along, but I want to have a crack at her myself, first. I hope you understand.�

Danny dug the paper clips out of his pocket and placed them back into their holder, nodded his head and said with exaggerated deference, �Oh, sure, I understand, Diane.�

John Irving, having overhead the conversation from the P.A.A. desk, smiled knowingly. He had been aware for a long time that Danny had a thing for Diane. After being burned once or twice in his early years at the station, John Irving had been cured of the desire to gossip, and he kept his treasure trove of information to himself. The only time he had spilled his guts recently was when Sgt. Martens threatened him with bodily harm, professional destruction and emotional torture. In that case, the target had been some rogue narcotics task force guy, Harry Denby, who didn�t even work in the squad. John was miserable about the wide swath that Denby had cut into this group. He felt Denby was to blame for Jill�s disappearance and the attack on Diane, and he was sure he would never forgive Denby for all the damage he had caused in his coworkers� lives. And now, he had obviously made the move on Diane, and in succeeding, dashed Danny�s more reserved, and more deserving, hopes on the rocks.

�Uh, hello? HellOOOOOO!� a rude woman in the doorway demanded John�s attention by slamming her knuckles loudly on the rail in front of his desk. She was tall and lean, with carrot red hair. She was dressed professionally in a forest green jacket, khaki-colored sweater and khaki slacks, and she had a black overcoat tossed over her arm. The statuesque woman had large, beautiful, emerald-green eyes, a long straight nose and perfect teeth. She wore the most imperious expression John had ever seen on a person who wasn�t royalty or a captain of industry.

In a cooler tone than usual, John answered, �Oh, I�m sorry. May I help you?�

�I�m here to see a Diane Russell.�

�May I tell her who�s here to see her?�

�Never mind. She�s right there, ninny,� she said, shoving through the gate and walking directly over to Diane. John was speechless. Very few people were so openly rude to him, and he was not about to let this one get by. He flew out of his chair and threw his body in front of her.

�Wait just a minute. You can�t go in there without permission!�

The rude woman shoved John aside and kept walking. John grabbed her upper arm, and the woman grabbed his wrist, pinched and spun around, quickly pinning John�s arm behind his back in one deft move.