"My pleasure." Erica started the car and pulled into the night traffic. "It gave me a chance to see a real writer at work."

"I was surprised you actually walked into the building."

"Why?"

"Rumor has it that you're not very fond of the media nor anyone a.s.sociated with it."

"Let's just say I'm not very fond of inaccuracies in the media." Erica's smile was both cool and seductive. A long moment pa.s.sed. "So, what exactly does a Pulitzer prize-winning writer do?"

"I meet strangers in dark alleys for tips, smoke cigarettes two at a time and guzzle coffee in Styrofoam cups. Oh, did I mention that I stand on corners with a hole cut in my newspaper so I can get a realistic view of life on the streets." Tayler grinned.

"Now there's a good use for the media."

Tayler coughed. "Actually, I research topics to be covered in each issue of The Narrator, I make recommendations to the editor-in-chief about who should write what article, I rub noses with local and state legislators to get a better idea of the political climate, and I have dinner with famous architects to convince them that the media isn't so bad."

"And are you successful in convincing them of that?"

Tayler lowered her already low voice. "I guess you'll have your answer by the end of dinner. By the way, where are we going?" She noticed they were heading east on Interstate 94.

"To my favorite restaurant. Unfortunately, it's a little ride out of the cities."

"Duluth?" Tayler laughed.

"Hm, they've got some very nice restaurants up there, but no, we're only going as far as Stillwater."

Tayler was about to ask the name of the restaurant but Erica's car phone rang.

"Excuse me for a moment. Hopefully, this won't take too long." Erica picked up the phone.

To Tayler's dismay, it did last too long. Erica's phone conversation ended thirty-five minutes later when they arrived in the parking lot of the Harbor Cafe located on the banks of the St. Croix River.

They were seated at a table in front of a large window that overlooked the dark and fast flowing river. The candle on their table cast a warm glow on Tayler's face. Soft music added to the warm ambiance.

"h.e.l.lo, Ms. Laird. A sparkling water with a twist of lime as usual?"

"Yes, thank you. Tayler, what would you like?"

Tayler scanned the beverage menu. "I'll have the same." She smiled at the young woman.

Erica looked out the window at the river and sighed. She could see Tayler's reflection in the gla.s.s. She knew her silence was making Tayler uncomfortable but she was having a problem finding her voice. Tayler looked stunning, and the cozy atmosphere made her even more appealing. Erica wondered if she had made a mistake by bringing Tayler to this cafe. Finally, she turned her head back to Tayler. "I love this view. It's so peaceful."

"I can see why you do. The view alone is worth the ride."

"Not to mention the company," Erica noticed Tayler's cheeks redden. Their server returned with their drinks. "Here's to your courage and your recovery - "

"And to luck for bringing you to my door," Tayler added to Erica's toast. They clinked their gla.s.ses.

Erica's eyes fell on Tayler's neck. The red scar was two inches in length and began near Tayler's Adam's apple. It extended in a jagged line to the right.

"It's pretty ugly, isn't it?" Tayler lowered her eyes.

"Your scar makes me sad. It reminds me of the violence in our world and the people who use it to get whatever they're after." Raven's image cut through Erica's thoughts.

"But don't forget they are often destroyed by the violence they create." Tayler picked at a nonexistent piece of lint.

"We can only hope." The heavy conversation was not what Erica had planned. "I would imagine that my staring doesn't help. Is it uncomfortable for you?"

"The scar?" Tayler asked.

Erica nodded.

"Actually, I don't see it unless I look in the mirror. Mother told me the other day that it looks like - " she paused.

"A lightning bolt." Erica's hand shook as she took a sip of her water.

"That's exactly what she said." Feeling self-conscious, Tayler tried to ease her discomfort with humor. "Good thing I live in Minnesota. I can wear turtlenecks practically year-round."

Erica brought her napkin to her lips. "Have there been any new developments in the case?"

"Not really. Detective Steffan believes that the a.s.sailant was only trying to scare me." Tayler studied her hands.

They were beautiful hands, Erica thought to herself-hands that belonged to a painter, pianist or lover. "But you don't believe his theory."

"I don't. Why else would he have gone for my jugular? An amateur would have just sliced anywhere to get the job done fast. Professionals are more calculated, more precise and definitely more successful. If it hadn't been for your surprise appearance, the attack would have had a very different ending."

Stinging tears threatened her composure. Tayler looked away, but the touch of Erica's hand brought her back.

"You sound as if you're no amateur in these things."

"I wish I were," Tayler paused, "my father was murdered eight years ago by a professional killer."

"I'm sorry, Tayler," Erica squeezed Tayler's hand. "Was the person ever caught?"

"No, unfortunately."

"Does Steffan think your father's murder and the attempt on your life are somehow related?"

"Not really -there aren't a lot of similarities to connect the two."

"Were there any suspects in your father's case?" Erica asked.

"My mother, but her alibi checked out." Tayler sat back and withdrew her hand from Erica's. The server appeared with their dinner.

"You really don't think Christina would have been capable of that, do you?" Erica's eyes reflected her disbelief.

"At the time of his death I didn't know my mother. I did know that there had been a lot of discord between my parents. I didn't know what to think back then. But it wasn't her. She may be cruel at times but she would never do something as awful as that."

"What about other possibilities?"

"Like me, my father tended to make more enemies than friends." Tayler suddenly remembered the death threat she had received. She chose not to mention it. Death threats were common in her line of work. "I'm curious about one thing, Erica."

"What's that?"

"How did you know I was in trouble that night?" Tayler thought she saw Erica smile but she wasn't sure in the candlelight.

"I was standing on my deck taking in the night air. I missed my home and I wanted to smell the pine trees. When I saw what was happening I flew over." Erica noticed Tayler cringe. "If this is making you uncomfortable, Tayler, we don't have to talk about "It's not that, it's - " Tayler's voice was so soft that Erica had to lean closer to hear. "Erica," Tayler avoided Erica's eyes. "Did you notice anything unusual about the a.s.sailant?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

Tayler slowly exhaled. "It was a woman who attacked me."

Silence engulfed the table.

"I know." Erica replied.

Tayler looked back at Erica astonished. "You knew?"

"It's difficult to hide the curves of a woman, even if she is dressed in loose fitting clothes. Though it's been done, it really is difficult to hide hips and b.r.e.a.s.t.s. But it was the mouth that convinced me the attacker was a woman."

"In the hospital I thought I was hallucinating. I actually thought I was going crazy. But she was so strong and so," Tayler paused to find the right word, "deadly."

"You're not crazy, Tayler. In our American culture, we hate to admit that women are capable of evil." Raven's image again invaded Erica's thoughts. She shuddered.

Tayler tried to lighten the heavy conversation. "Well, at least we can rule out my mother. The only knife she's ever held was a b.u.t.ter knife."

Erica laughed. She was grateful for Tayler's sense of humor. When their eyes met, Erica refused to look away. Her skin ignited and her throat ached for the pools before her.

"Mother told me that the two of you were lovers."

Erica looked out the window. "So, you know about that. What else did she tell you?"

"Well, she told me that you're very intelligent talented and..." Tayler paused.

"And?" Erica prompted.

Tayler looked around the room and lowered her voice. "And that you're dynamite in bed."

"Tayler," Erica cried," She didn't!" She tried to continue but Tayler's laughter cut her off. Erica found herself joining in. After they calmed down she asked, "Does that upset you?"

"That you're dynamite in bed?" Tayler smiled wickedly. "No."

"I meant your mother's and my past."

Tayler grew serious. "Part of me is sad that it didn't work out for you two. The other part is glad you escaped my mother's possessive ways. Catherine has her hands full."

"Catherine?"

"Mother's partner. Didn't she mention her when you met for lunch?"

"No, she never mentioned she was in a relationship." The mystery of the one-carat diamond ring on Christina's finger was solved.

"Oops, I get the feeling I just revealed a significant detail."

Erica found Tayler's embarra.s.sment endearing. "Don't worry, Tayler. The past is the past."

Tayler cleared her throat. Her voice was beginning to falter. "I know I should mind my own business, but it was difficult to avoid your phone conversation in the car. Are you serious about a merger?"

Erica squinted her eyes as she contemplated Tayler's question. "I really can't talk about that right now."

"Ms. Laird, is there something wrong with your meal? I noticed neither one of you have touched your food." The server nervously eyed the two women. "Would you like something else?"

"No, everything is just fine. We've been too engrossed in our conversation. No need to be alarmed." Erica took her fork and tasted the trout. "It's wonderful, thank you."

When the server left, Tayler placed both of her hands on the table. "Is it because I'm a writer and you don't trust me?"

"Tayler, I can't." Erica said. She saw Tayler raise her arms above her head. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to convince you that not all writers are monsters. I have no tape recorder, I'm not electronically wired, and I'm not doing hand signals to anyone outside." Tayler said defensively.

"I know. And I have no reason not to trust you. It's just.. .it's just that there are things I can't talk about." Tayler's sudden show of emotion touched Erica. "So, why are you so interested in my plans anyway?"

"I don't know," Tayler would not look at Erica. "Well, at least it's not what you think. I mean, I'm not out for a story."

Erica could only guess Tayler's real intent, though the truth was difficult to hide. She found Tayler's innocence both intriguing and alluring, and if she didn't watch herself very carefully, things could get fatal.

Tayler slowly turned her hands over on the table. "Allow me to get myself out of this awkward moment and see what other damage I can do." Tayler bit her bottom lip.

Erica leaned forward. "In my lifetime, Tayler, I've done more damage than you could ever do."

"I can't see how that would be possible. What damage could you have possibly done?" Partially recovering her exposed feelings, Tayler added, "Was your trip to Greece for strengthening U.S. business ties or for pleasure?"

"I'm impressed, Tayler. You really do your homework. To answer your question, it was personal. I went to Sparta and Athens to consult some experts. While I was there I took advantage of its dry heat and 80 to 100 degree temperatures."

"You're not ill, are you?"

"No," Erica shook her head. She squeezed Tayler's hand. "Thank you for your concern."

Tayler shifted in her chair. She hated being denied information. "I'd love to see the ruins in Athens. I studied Greek culture and mythology in college."

"The ruins are beautiful. Unfortunately, Athens is the most polluted city in Europe and it's taking its toll on the ruins."

"What are the people like?"

"Greek men are chauvinistic, but on the whole, the Greeks are a very pa.s.sionate people. They're very proud of their families, politics and traditions."

"I heard recently that the island of Crete is the birthplace of matriarchy." Tayler watched Erica's expressions.

"Yes, the 'Green Island' as it's known."