"Could have gone down like that," Jeff agreed. "That makes Ryan one gutsy lady, or a crazy one. Most people would have run for help, dont you think?"

Rebecca shrugged. "Who knows--maybe she didnt even think about it. She sees whats happening and just reacts."

"Then we really need to know what Janet Ryan saw," Jeff said with finality.

**********

When Catherine spied Rebecca waiting in the car across the street, frowning over her notes, she felt a welcoming surge of pleasure. The convertible top was down and Rebecca looked attractively windblown. She had shed her jacket in the car, and the thin leather strap that circled her shoulders, holding her holster against her side, was obvious. Catherine had no particular fondness for firearms, and the sight of the gun under Rebeccas arm reminded her forcefully of the kind of life Rebecca led. Her response was a mixture of admiration and fear. She was drawn to Rebeccas strength, but it was the hint of vulnerability within that truly captivated her. The complexity of the contrasts made Rebecca all the more appealing.

She approached the passenger side slowly, reminding herself that Rebecca was here on business. Still, she couldnt quite dismiss the excitement Rebeccas presence stirred in her.

"Hi," she said.

Rebecca looked up, and in a rare unguarded moment welcomed Catherine with a blazing smile. "Hi."

Lord, shes stunningFor a moment Catherine stood motionless, transfixed.

Rebecca leaned over to push the passenger door open. "Youre very prompt."

Catherine laughed as she settled into the contoured leather seats. "Dont be fooled. It doesnt happen often." She waited until Rebecca maneuvered into the dense traffic crowding the road in front of the hospital before speaking.

"Have you made any progress with the case?" Catherine asked.

"Not much," Rebecca replied, frowning. "I have a hunch your patient interrupted him, possibly physically intervened. That means she saw him. She might give us a description--" She gave Catherine a questioning, hopeful look.

Catherine shook her head. "Not yet. Shes heavily sedated and has only slim recall of last nights events. It could be a few days--perhaps a week."

"Can I speak to her?"

"She spoke with the officer who brought her to the hospital."

"I know that," Rebecca responded. "But that was just a preliminary. I need to go over things in detail, and I know what to ask."

Catherine thought about Janets fragile emotional state and tried not to consider her ever increasing desire to assist Rebecca Frye. Janet must remain her primary concern.

"I have an hour scheduled with her tomorrow afternoon. If shes ready, Ill let you know. Id like to be present when you question her. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Rebecca said quickly. "In fact, Id prefer it."

"Well, then--it seems we dont have much to discuss over dinner," Catherine remarked with regret. She realized then just how much she had been looking forward to this time with Rebecca.

"I still want to take you to dinner," Rebecca replied, turning her eyes from the road to glance at Catherine expectantly. She didnt want to think about what it meant, she only knew she didnt want to say good night to Catherine Rawlings quite so soon.

"Good," Catherine answered softly. "I was hoping youd say that."

Chapter Seven

Rebecca drove to a small restaurant on the mainline known for its excellent food and quiet intimate decor. The owner greeted Rebecca by name and seated them personally at a secluded table that offered them a view of the sweeping lawns and luxurious gardens. He left them to ponder the eclectic selections artistically displayed on fine parchment menus.

"Do you come here often?" Catherine asked, curious about the special service they were receiving. They had been seated immediately despite several parties waiting before them.

Rebecca shrugged uncomfortably. "Not for a long time. But whenever I do, Anthony insists on waiting on me himself."

Shes embarrassed, Catherine thought. She waited, knowing there was more.

"I found his daughter for him a few years ago," Rebecca continued in a low voice, remembering the run down rooming house and the frightened young girls inside. When she looked at Catherine, she couldnt quite disguise the pain of the memory. After so many girls in so many squalid squats, the sorrow had become a dark ache in her eyes. "She was fifteen years old, working on her back for a pimp who had promised her the excitement a girl her age longs for. What he gave her was a needle in the arm and a beating if she didnt earn enough." She didnt know how to describe the rest of ithow she felt when she found Anthonys youngest daughter strung out on smack and turning tricks for twenty dollars a pop. Her anger so intense that she almost forgot she was a cop. Her overwhelming need to stop the waste and the abuse. If Jeff hadnt interceded, she would have beaten the young pimp with her bare hands. She was grateful Jeff stopped her, but the rage still seethed, fueled by the daily destruction of lives and dreams she witnessed everywhere around her. She remained silent, alone with her anguish.

Rebecca didnt know that the feelings she had forgotten how to share were clearly displayed in the sweeping planes of her face and the ever changing depths of her dark blue eyes. Catherine, so sensitive to the sounds of silence, caught glimpses of Rebeccas secret tears. She ached for Rebeccas pain, and she stood in awe of the strength it required to face such horrors every day.

"To him it must seem like lifes greatest gift-- the return of his child. Hes trying to thank you without making you uncomfortable," Catherine said softly. Rebecca winced, and Catherine continued lightly. "Youll just have to bear it. I dont imagine hes going to stop."

Rebecca heard the gentle mocking in Catherines voice and caught the glimmer of a smile on her full lips. The knot of anger in her chest began to loosen, and she felt herself relaxing. She broke into a grin that brought a flash of brilliance to her eyes and a youthful energy to her face.

"If thats your professional opinion."

"It is," Catherine responded, rewarded by the light in Rebeccas eyes.Shes so beautifulNever could she remember being moved so deeply by anyone, and the force of her response was a little frightening.I hardly know herwhy do I feel like Ive been waiting for her?

Rebecca startled her from her reverie with the words, "Then itsmyprofessional opinion that we should enjoy dinner and have no more talk of business."

Catherine agreed happily, and after following Rebeccas suggestion to try the house special, settled back contentedly with a glass of wine. Over the course of the delicious meal she found herself telling Rebecca about her life. Rebecca learned that Catherine was the only child of a college professor and his wife, also a psychiatrist. She was close to her parents, but saw them only rarely. They were both still active in their professions and otherwise involved with joint pursuits. Catherine had grown up in a loving and supportive environment, but her parents had always maintained an emotional closeness with each other that sometimes made Catherine feel excluded. As a result, although this was something she didnt share with Rebecca, Catherine was reserved in her own personal life. Unconsciously she was searching for the same depth of commitment she had observed between her parents. Rebecca was a good listener, and she watched Catherine intently as she talked. Somehow she knew that these were things Catherine rarely spoke of.

"What do you do for entertainment?" Rebecca asked at one point.

"I love to read and take long bike rides. Im a sucker for old movies, too," Catherine answered. "How about you?"

Rebecca laughed. "Im afraid Im one of those obsessive workers. When Im not working, Im working out."

"How did you decide on law enforcement?"

"I didnt decide. I was born into it, like a lot of cops. My father was a beat cop for forty years, just like his father. I always knew I would be a cop, too. I took a slight detour and went to college first, but there was never any question I would be a street cop."

Rebeccas pride and satisfaction were evident in her voice. Catherine thought she looked more relaxed than she had ever seen her, and she was glad. Rebeccas charm and quick humor surfaced as she grew more comfortable. Catherine found her even more enchanting as the evening passed.

They lingered long after the other diners had gone and only left when neither of them could hide her weariness. They drove in companionable silence through the now quiet streets. For the first time in weeks, Rebecca didnt think about work. When she pulled up in front of Catherines brownstone, she realized suddenly that she didnt want the evening to end.

"Catherine, I" Rebecca stopped, unused to putting her feelings into words. She wanted to tell her how wonderful the evening had been, and how much she wanted to see her again. Old habits, old fears, held her back.When are you going to learn, Frye.What inhell do you have to offer a woman like this?

Catherines eyes were warm and welcoming as she gazed at Rebecca, waiting for her to go on. Rebecca flushed and looked away, her jaw tightening. She sensed Catherine waiting, but still painful disappointments haunted her, holding her a silent hostage.

Catherine touched her arm gently, speaking instinctively, without her usual restraint. "Rebecca, I am a lesbian. If you didnt already know that, Im sure you would soon. I also find you incredibly attractive. Regardless of how you feel about meor women in generalthat fact remains. However, I can assure you that I have no intention of doing anything to make you uncomfortable."