with me next weekend."

"It is serious then."

"Semi. Emma, what is so fascinating out there?"

illt's just this man. It's almost as if he's looking right at me."

"Sounds more like vanity than paranoia." Pushing herself up, Marianne

walked to the window. "Probably waiting to make a drug deal," she

decided. She moved away again to pick up her long-neglected coffee cup.

"In the serious vein, what about Michael? Are you going to give the man

and his dog a break?"

"I want to take my time."

"You've been taking your time with Michael since you were thirteen,"

Marianne pointed out. "What's it like to have a man carry a torch for

you for over ten years?"

"It's not like that."

"It's exactly like that. In fact, I'm surprised he managed to stay on

the Coast when you told him you were going to visit here for a couple of

days before flying back."

"He wants to get married."

"Well, you could knock me over with a twenty-foot crane. Who'd have

guessed it?"

"I suppose I haven't wanted to think about what happens next."

"That's only because you've blocked the M word out of your vocabulary

for a while. So what are you going to do about it?"

"It?"

"The two Ms. Marriage and Michael."

"I don't know." She looked out the window again. He was still there,

standing patiently. "I'm going to wait until I see him again. We both

may feel differently now that things have settled down, and our lives

are getting back to normal. Dammit."

"What?"

"I don't know why I didn't realize it before. Dad's hired a bodyguard

again." She turned her head quickly, eyes narrowed. "Did you know about

this?"

"No." Marianne stirred herself to go to the window and look out again.

"Brian never said a word to me. Look, the guy's just standing around.

Why automatically a.s.sume he's there for you?"

"When you've lived with it most of your life, you know when you're being

watched." Annoyed, she moved away from the window. On an oath, she

whirled back and yanked the window open. "Hey!" Her sudden shout

surprised her as much as the man on the street. "Go call

your boss and tell him I can take care of myself If I see you down there

in five minutes, I'm calling the cops."

"Feel better?" Marianne murmured at her shoulder. "Lots."

"I'm not sure he could hear you all the way down there."

"He heard enough," Emma said with a satisfied nod. "He's leaving." A

little dizzy, she pulled her head in. "Let's go get a facial."

Michael PORED OVER the printout. It had taken him days to correlate

lists and cross-check. In the past weeks he'd found himself just as

caught up in Darren McAvoy's murder as his father had been twenty years

before. He had read every inch of every file, studied every photograph,