She sighed as if knowing what was coming. "Don't think I want to."

"Why the call?"

Another sigh came and then some background noise that sounded like the low hum of a copier. "I told you. I called your old work and looked you up."

"But why did you first decide to look me up?"

"You got me. I've just been thinking a lot about us lately. You know, the way we were. Guess I just got a little washed away with the memories. You forgive me?"

"I find myself thinking about the past," he admitted and then trailed off into silence.

"You still there?"

"I'm here," he said. "Someone just walked in." He dropped his feet off the corner of his desk and sat up at attention, running his fingers through his hair to straighten it up.

Tammy came in with a young looking short man wearing eyeglasses. John motioned for them to have a seat. She looked even more stunning than he remembered from the day before.

"I'll let you go. You have work to do."

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"Can I call you back?" John asked. "Tonight?"

"Sure. I'd love to talk more," Joyce told him.

John told her good-bye and put the receiver back on its cradle. He looked up at the familiar woman and the interloper with a friendly smile. Wonderful, he thought as he studied the man, another suspect.

Before Tammy could get a word out of her mouth, the telephone rang. It was John's mother.