“Oh-h-h,” Belinda said, smiling. “So the time has come. I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with Jennifer Anderson already. She’s delightful. You could be a gentleman and meet her halfway, you know.”

“What’s gentlemanly about that?”

“Well, you’re standing there like the king of the hill, or something. It would be a tad warmer, more friendly, if you at least gave the appearance of welcoming her to your office, indicate that you’re delighted to see her again. You did tell me it had been three months since you made her acquaintance.”

“I’m not delighted to see her again,” Evan said, in a loud whisper. “I’m in the middle of a very important, high-profile case that is about to go to trial, if you’ll recall, and I don’t have time for this documentary stuff.”

But here comes Jennifer Anderson, he thought. She was getting closer, and closer and…

Jennifer covered the remaining twenty feet separating her from Evan, then stopped, immediately switching her gaze to his secretary.

“Hello, Belinda. How are you?”

“Fine, just fine. And you?”

I’m falling apart by inches, Belinda, Jennifer thought. I didn’t know it would be this difficult to see Evan again but…

“Hello, Jennifer,” Evan said quietly.

Jennifer drew a steadying breath that she hoped wasn’t noticeable, then slowly turned her head to meet Evan’s gaze.

“Evan,” she said, hating the squeaky little noise that was passing itself off as her voice.

“Did you want to see me?”

“Yes, if you’re free,” she managed to say.

“Come in,” he said, stepping back. “Belinda, please hold my calls.”

“You betcha, boss. Just close that door and I’ll make certain that no one disturbs the two of you…sir.”

“You can be replaced, you know,” Evan said, pointing a finger at her.

“Don’t be silly. You couldn’t run this office without me. Go right on in, Jennifer.”

Jennifer walked past Evan, catching the faint aroma of his woodsy aftershave. She heard him close the door behind him, the quiet click seeming more like an explosion. Sinking gratefully onto one of the chairs facing Evan’s desk, she crossed her legs, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

Evan went around the desk and sat down on the butter-soft leather chair. His office was large, boasting a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Bookcases lined another wall and a grouping of a love seat and two easy chairs was off to one side.

How was it possible, he thought, that Jennifer was even more lovely now than she had been three months ago before she left for California on that assignment?

Her shoulder-length black hair seemed to glisten, those incredible green eyes were sparkling emeralds, and there was a radiance about her, a glow, or some such thing. Oh, for crying out loud, Stone, knock it off.

“I hear you’ve been busy around here,” Evan said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen.

“Yes. Yes, I have.” Jennifer nodded. “Sticks and I…Sticks is my cameraman…have filmed a great deal of footage here in the courthouse and over at the police station. Everyone has been very cooperative, which certainly makes my job easier. Yes, it certainly does.

“We filmed the empty courtroom downstairs where the case you’re taking to trial soon will be held. I thought that might have a dramatic effect. You know, show the empty jury seats, the judge’s bench, the table where the defendant will sit, what have you, with an over-voice to emphasize that while that room is silent now it will soon hold many people and a man’s future will be decided within those four walls.

“I must say, Evan, that you certainly granted my request and then some. Do you remember me saying it would add a real punch to my documentary if you were involved in a high-profile case by the time I got here? And bingo…they don’t get bigger than the Gardner case. Chicago is buzzing about it. You can’t pick up a newspaper or catch the news on television without hearing about…I think I’m babbling.”

“I think you are, too. Are you uncomfortable seeing me again, Jennifer?”

“Are you uncomfortable seeing me?”

“I asked you first.” Evan frowned and shook his head. “That sounded like something a kid in elementary school would say.”

“All right, yes,” Jennifer said, averting her gaze and picking an imaginary thread from her slacks. “I’m a tad nervous about seeing you again, Evan, because there’s no erasing what happened between us, what should not have happened. I just don’t want you to think that I make a practice of… There’s no point in discussing this.”

“No, there isn’t any point in discussing it. Except I want you to know that I certainly don’t think less of you because of what took place. My behavior was out of character for me, too. Let’s agree that our mutual respect is still intact.”

“My, my,” Jennifer said, an edge to her voice, “aren’t we just so civilized and sophisticated? We made a mistake but, hey, it’s old news so forget it.”

Evan frowned. “What would you have me say?”

“I’m sorry.” Jennifer sighed. “It’s just not an easy subject for me to discuss. What you said was fine, very nice, and I appreciate it.” She paused. “Let’s get on with why I’m here, shall we?”

“Yes, here you are,” Evan said, “and the fact that I am in the midst of a high-profile case prompts me to ask you to finish your documentary after the Gardner trial is completed.”

“What?” Jennifer said, leaning forward. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Look,” Evan said, folding his arms on the top of the desk, “I’m putting in very long, high-stress days getting ready for this trial. The last thing I need is a camera in my face and you taking notes, or recording, every little thing I do and say.”

“But…”

“Let me finish,” he said, raising one hand. “I know that you and I agreed that I had final approval on the documentary before it’s aired. Dandy. But in the meantime you and this Sticks guy might hear something that could demolish my case if it got out. I don’t want to run that kind of risk.”

“You don’t trust me?” Jennifer said, splaying one hand on her chest, then slouching back in the chair. “That’s insulting, it really is. I’m a professional, Evan, not some kid who has just been assigned her first story to cover. Give me some credit here.”

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you,” he said, his voice rising. “But slip-ups happen. You and your cameraman might be discussing something you filmed in this office and it could be overheard by the wrong person. I repeat…I don’t want to run that kind of risk.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Jennifer said. “What the papers and anchormen are reporting. You have a shaky case against Lyle Gardner, circumstantial evidence that you somehow have to convince a jury is enough to convict him of killing his brother. If you had a heavy-duty, solid case against him, you wouldn’t be so concerned about loose lips sinking ships, or however that goes.”

“Hell, what do you want from me?” Evan said. “Do you think I’m going to allow you to film me saying something like ‘This is a weak case with a bunch of circumstantial evidence, but if I get lucky I can still send the bum up the river’? Give me a break. And for heaven’s sake keep what I just said confidential. I’m going with ‘no comment’ with all reporters who snag me regarding the evidence I have against Lyle Gardner. I’m attempting to give the impression that I have more than I do, Jennifer.

“I can count on one hand the number of people who know the details of my case against Gardner. I sure as hell don’t feel like adding a photojournalist and a cameraman to that list.”

“Well, I’m afraid you don’t have any choice in the matter, Mr. Stone,” Jennifer said, narrowing her eyes. “I’m here to do my job and you’ll just have to trust me, like it or not. If you think you can put me on the back burner until this trial is over, why don’t you call the mayor and tell him that you’re going to change a dynamite documentary into vanilla pudding.