Diane frowned a bit and scratched the back of he head. "Well, could you point me to her desk? I'd like to leave her a note, if I may?"

"Second on the left," the clerk pointed and handed Diane a pad and pen.

"Thanks."

Diane made her way to Roberta's desk. She fully intended to leave her number for a call back, but stopped short when she saw the framed photographs next to officer Gould's phone. There, standing with her husband and wearing a crisp new uniform from the academy was a younger, beaming...Lauren. Her hair was dark and pulled back, but it was unmistakable.

"Very clever, VERY clever," Diane mumbled as she made her way back to the the clerk. "Um, excuse me again, will she be back anytime soon?"

"No, sorry," the clerk leaned forward and put her hand over the receiver. "She's deep under.You'd hardly recognize her."

Harry checked his watch for the third time. He'd been pacing along the sidewalk next to his car for twenty minutes. Diane had left a message on his machine asking to meet him here at 5:30, and he had hurried to arrive early, just in case. The red silk tie he wore flapped gently in the breeze of the early evening and he forced himself to lean casually against the newsstand and watch the boats. The river wasn't the Nile, but he thought it was a little romantic, and he hoped Diane had chosen this spot for that very reason.

He hated waiting. It was better to be in control and make the first, unexpected move. Keep your opponent off balance and occupied with wondering what will happen next. But this was the lady Diane, herself. Not a contest. What would she make of his offering? Had he just set himself up in the worst way?

Too much time fed Harry's very vivid imagination and he began to convince himself that Sorenson was about to deliver another raincheck for her. When she suddenly appeared walking swiftly toward him, his reflexive smile of relief was a little too broad, and he hid it as best he could. She was dressed in a dark slacks with a red sweater and her hair flew back from her stern face like a banner.

"Miss Russell."

"Why did you give this to me?" Diane held out the newspaper clipping.

Thrown off balance by her direct plunge into offensive mode, he fumbled, "I don't know."

"Yes you do. Tell me."