He'd decided she was someone he'd fight to keep. She'd have a choice, of course. So he'd have to ensure the lady had all the facts to make the right choice.

"So tell me a little about yourself, Jenna," he said as she glanced toward the front door where Thatcher had disappeared with his cell phone and the fax Neil had just received from Barrow in Seattle. He had to hand it to Thatcher. The man wasn't entirely inept. He'd taken one look at the fax and instantly understood the significance. Which was why Thatcher was in his car with his cell phone talking to ADA Liz Johnson at the moment.

"Not a whole lot to tell, Detective Davies," she said with a smile. A smile that said she wished him to perdition, Neil thought and made himself smile back. It didn't take a genius to recognize what he'd interrupted.

"Call me Neil. How's Casey?" he asked, and the light that came on in her eyes nearly took his breath away. She was a beautiful woman, but when her face lit up… she was unforgettable. And he damned Thatcher all over again.

"She's going to be fine,'" she said. "Thank you for asking."

"You're welcome. So I hear you're a teacher. What do you teach?"

"High school chemistry and general science." She looked over at the door again and Neil found himself becoming annoyed.

"He'll be back soon enough." he said irritably. "I take it your car was totaled in the wreck." And he watched her ex-pression become angry and sad at the same time.

"It was."

"Well, your insurance should replace it." Her eyes narrowed. "It was a 1960 Jaguar XK 150." Neil winced"Ouch."

She sighed. "It belonged to my fiance who passed away two years ago."

"I'm sorry."

She gave a rueful wince. "Me, too. I still have to tell his family that I wrecked his car."

"But you didn't wreck it. It was sabotage."

"I don't tink I'll mention the cut breaks," she said. "They worry about me enough as it is."

"My fiance's family. T'hey're rather overprotective."

"So what will you tell them?" he asked, praying Thatcher stayed out in his car another ten minutes. Ten more minutes with Jenna. "I don't think this is something you'll be able to hide with a few cosmetic touch-ups."

She smiled ruefully. "I don't know. Do you have any ideas?"

He pretended to consider it. "You could tell them the car was stolen."

She shook her head. "No, then they'd staple 'lost' posters to every tree in Raleigh and take out an ad on a milk carton."

Neil threw back Ms head and laughed. "Well, how about telling them you sold it to passing gypsies for three magic beans?"

She smiled at him engagingly. "No gypsies would be safe from the Clan Llewellyn."

Neil cocked a brow. "Llewellyn is their name? My grandmother on my mother's side was a Llewellyn. My family came over from Wales about sixty years ago."

"You should talk to Seth. My fiance's father, that is." She frowned. "My former fiance."

"I understand," Neil said.

Her lips smiled but her eyes still frowned as if frustrated by her verbal slip. And it didn't take a very observant man to notice the man's ring she worried on the thumb of her right hand. He was sure it had belonged to her dead fiance. When she was his, she'd put the ring away. She could keep it, just not on her finger.

"Anyway," she said, "Seth came over from Swansea when he was a boy." She leaned toward him and dropped her voice conspiratorially. "He'll carry on for hours about Wales to anyone foolish enough to step into his parlor. If he brings out the slide projector, run like hell."

Neil smiled back. "If I have time before I leave, I'd love to meet him. I have lots of questions about my grandparents' birthplace, which I don't think is far from Swansea. I-" He stopped when her facial expression froze and looked over to where she was staring.

Thatcher stood ten feet away, looking mad enough to chew nails.

Neil slid from the booth and approached him. "Plans in place?" he asked, but Thatcher didn't turn his way, just kept staring at Jenna with a furious look. Thatcher was jealous, an emotion Neil well understood.

"Liz says it's not enough," Thatcher gritted.

Neil frowned, glancing at Jenna from the corner of his eye. She was pale and he worried about the spot he'd put her in. But surely Thatcher wasn't a violent man, he thought, finding his protective instincts raised. Uneasily he turned his back on Jenna to stare at Thatcher. "What do you mean it's not enough? One of Parker's teachers signs an affidavit saying he threatened her with bodily harm if she didn't pass him out of her class? It's a direct link to the vandalism in Jenna's class. What more does your ADA want to bring Parker in for questioning?"

"Maybe you should go ask her. Now would be good," Thatcher responded through his teeth.

"Thatcher," he began, but Thatcher turned with his jaw clenched so hard it was a wonder the man didn't break every tooth in his head.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Davies."

Neil looked back to the table where Jenna sat chewing on her lower lip, her eyes now troubled. Not afraid, just troubled. And quite possibly more than just a little bit pissed. He remembered the brown belt she'd worn around her waist when he'd met her Thursday night and figured she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Even so, he'd check on her tomorrow. Just to make sure she was all right. A professional courtesy, as it were. "Tomorrow, then," he said to Thatcher, and against his better judgment, left the bar without looking back.

Saturday, October 8, 10:15 P.M.

Jenna was out of the Volvo and halfway up the stairs to her apartment by the time he got the keys out of the ignition. Muttering a curse, he followed, catching up with her at her front door.

She looked up from searching her purse, her eyes accusing. "I think it's better for both of us if you just went home, Steven," she said sofily, then turned to look behind her with a scowl. "I'm all right, Mrs. Kasselbaum. We just had a fight. If you'd care to come out in your hair curlers I'd be glad to tell you all about it."

The door clicked closed and Jenna gritted her teeth, dropping hdr eyes to search her purse again. Dismissing him.

"Jenna, we need to talk."

"I think you've said quite enough for one evening, don't you think?"

He blew out a breath. "I said I was sorry. Just open the door so we can discuss this in private, okay?"

She shook her purse in frustration. "I'd open the door if I could find my damn keys."

The door behind them opened and a gnarled old hand appeared with two keys connected with a bread bag twisty-tie. "Thank you. Mrs. Kasselbaum," Steven gritted and took the keys, remembering he still hadn't changed the deadbolt on Jenna's front door. He ignored Jenna's outstretched palm and unlocked the door himself, holding it open as she squeezed past him with a glare.

He closed the door and leaned against it. Watched her hang up her jacket and run a soothing hand over Jean-Luc's back before sending the dog back to his bed in the corner. The dog glared at him, able to read Jenna's mood.

So could Steven. She was upset. She had a right to be. He'd been jealous and curt and had embarrassed her in front of Davies. "I said I was sorry."

She nodded, her back to him. "Yes, you did. Now would you care to tell me why?"

"Why I'm sorry?"

"No, why you threw that little tantrum back at the bar."

He gritted his teeth at the trivialization. "It wasn't a tantrum."