Like most Chicagoans, Marjorie had seen the photo of Tim Burke's furious, wiener-bun-encrusted face on the Banner's front page. So it was perfectly understandable that now, sitting with the vice mayor in his grandiose office, she had to struggle to keep from laughing.

In addition, she was nearly giddy with how well her plan was progressing, and it made her wonder if the boy was as blindly in love with Audie as he claimed or merely rendered stupid by his own vanity. Perhaps it was both. It hardly mattered, just so long as he followed her lead. And so far, Tim Burke was blithely traipsing down the path Marjorie had prepared for him.

Tim gazed at her now, his long fingers steepled as if in prayer, tapping against a haughty smile. With an abrupt nod, he uncrossed his legs, got up from the leather club chair, and began pacing the room.

"I just don't want her to be hurt in this."

"And that's exactly what will happen if we don't step in, Tim. My God, I just can't bear to watch… Oh, I'm sorry… I've really gotten myself worked up over this, haven't I?"

Marjorie dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and waited for Tim to return to her side. He did and patted her knee.

"Tim, I don't mean to be all doom and gloom, but without her mother there is no one in the world to look out for Audie except me. God knows Helen would agree with me on this-that detective is not what Autumn needs!" Marjorie blew her nose daintily and then laughed. "I mean, really! Can you picture Stacey Quinn as her escort to something like the Banner Ball tomorrow? It's laughable!"

Tim shook his head in disgust.

"She needs a man who's her equal in the public realm, who understands fame. She needs you, Tim. You are perfect for each other! Those times when I saw the two of you together my heart would just leap! And I'm sure if we can only get rid of that pit bull, she'll open her eyes-and you'll he the first thing she sees."

Tim leaned back into the chair and he appeared to be thinking. Not too much, Marjorie hoped.

"You know, I've really appreciated how you've kept in touch with me. If it weren't for your encouragement and the note here and there from Audie, I think I would have given up, I really do. She's been so unpredictable-a sweet card one week or an invitation to one of her book signings, and then she slams the door in my face! But you really think…?"

"Absolutely, Tim. I hate to say this, but I think Stacey Quinn may even be violent. You hear all the time about policemen being mentally unstable-you know, abuse of power." She stopped suddenly. "But I suppose this is not news to you."

Tim snorted, looking around the room, and for a moment it seemed he was wrestling with a critical concern. Then he broke into a dazzling smile. "Let's do it." Then Tim's smile abruptly lost its warmth. "I'd love to put him in his place, Marjorie. There's bad blood between us."

"I know. Audie told me all about the two of you."

Tim's brow arched. "Really? She must tell you everything."

Marjorie tilted her head and smiled at him. "And that's why I'm so sure this will work, Tim-she's told me how she feels about you."

His eyes widened hungrily. "What exactly did she say?"

"That she struggles every day with whether she's ready to love you. It's a huge step for her."

"I know," he said with reverence. "So we won't be forcing anything, then?"

"Just speeding up the inevitable," she said, smiling sweetly.

"But what happens when she denies it?" Tim looked worried.

"Then we have to make the evidence so inflammatory that Stacey Quinn won't even give her the time of day, won't listen to her denials."

"He has to be blind with hurt."

"Exactly."

Tim nodded, but Marjorie still saw a remnant of doubt in his eyes. "There's one thing," he said.

"Yes?"

"The letters. That's the part that bothers me. Quinn thinks I've been sending them, as ridiculous as that is, but I'm worried about Audie. Have there been any more lately?"

Marjorie sighed. "A couple. But I think they're close to making an arrest."

His head snapped to attention. "Really? Any idea who?"

Marjorie hesitated, scanning Tim's face with what she hoped looked like deep concern. "If I tell you, can you keep it in confidence? Nothing can interfere with him being taken into custody-Autumn isn't safe until he's behind bars."

Tim exhaled with seriousness. "Of course, Marjorie. You have my word."

"Well, I'm afraid it's her brother, Andrew."

"Holy shit. Well, I can't say I'm surprised."

The tissues came out again, and Marjorie let her head fall into her hands. Tim stroked her shoulder as she continued.

"I think Helen's death, then this latest divorce just sent him over the edge. It's heartbreaking. I've known him since the day he was born."

"I'm sorry." Tim encouraged her to raise her head and looked at her with compassion. "I thank you for putting me in your confidence, Marjorie. Your loyalty to Audie is refreshing-I wish there were more people like you in the world. Hey!" He grinned at her playfully. "If you ever decide to leave the column, I could find you a place here in City Hall-you'd be perfect in the public relations office."

She laughed him off. "I'll think about it."

They agreed it wouldn't take much to send Quinn into orbit but debated how to go about it. Marjorie didn't dare come right out and suggest that she forge Autumn's handwriting-lest Tim make the connection with the mysterious thank-you notes-but God bless him, the boy was putty in her hands.

"Do you have access to her personal stationery?" Tim's question came out as a guilty whisper. Marjorie could tell she was expanding the vice mayor's horizons.

"Oh, well, yes. When I'm in the office the next time I'll… wait! Oh, Tim, you won't believe this!" She sprang open the clasp to her black leather attaché and began a feigned search for… "Yes! I have some right here!"

Tim grinned at her. "I know exactly what will do it for poor Stacey, but I don't want to embarrass you, Marjorie. This might be pretty tasteless."

She frowned at him and reached for another tissue. "The whole situation is tasteless. I'm just so glad we're not too late to do something about it."

They put their heads together and came up with a note that satisfied them both. Marjorie signed Audie's name with a practiced flourish and folded the note in thirds just as Tim's secretary knocked on his door and peered in.

"I said I wasn't to be disturbed!"

"It's the mayor," she whispered. "He said 'now.'"

"Oh, shit." Tim rose instantly, straightening his tie and running a nervous hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry about this, Marjorie. Do you think…?"

"Oh, heavens! You go right ahead! I'll just look over this again and leave it on your desk and we'll talk Monday. No rush."

"Fabulous!" Tim stooped to kiss her cheek. "You're a wonder, Marjorie. Take your time. I'll talk to you Monday."

No, you won't, you buffoon.

Marjorie smiled at the secretary as she closed the door, then laughed at her own good fortune. She spent the next five minutes downloading all nineteen threats from a floppy disk onto the hard drive of the vice mayor's computer, then unfolded the love letter and left it on top of his desk.

One anonymous call to 911 from a pay phone downstairs, and the fun would begin.

Getting her affairs in order indeed.

Two hours later, the evidence technicians were removing Tim Burke's computer equipment from his office.The vice mayor had retreated to the sofa, where he glared silently at Quinn and Stanny-O.

Quinn didn't know which was more entertaining-Timmy's brief spurt of out-of-control ranting or this prolonged silence. Obviously, his attorneys told him on the phone to shut his mouth until they got there. Which would be any second.