over. Just thought I'd stop by and say hello."

Kane began to leave, then stopped and impulsively extended an invitation.

Jennifer, he knew, would have bee proud of him.

"If you and your wife are ever in our neck o the woods, stop by.

Jennifer would love to see you."

An other piece of a memory returned.

"Hey, are you still driving that pink Cadillac? What did you call it,

again?"

"Esmerelda. Yeah, I'm still driving it."

The information pleased Kane.

He nodded.

"Nice t know some things never change."

No, Graham thought as he watched Kane leave the squa room, some things

never do.

A small voice whispered in his soul that maybe so things should.

The late-afternoon sun was hotter than the interior of an oven, Caitlin

thought.

At least, it certainly seemed that way, sitting out here embroiled in a

tense game of coach-pitch baseball with approximately twenty-four children who seemed to exert more energy than the heat warranted.

She felt wiped out and it was only the second running.

Of course, the second running had lasted close to half an hour, what

with stray balls, missed swings and two bats that had gone flying out

of sweaty, slippery fingers.

Caitlin found herself wishing for a miracle.

Maybe a sudden thunderstorm rising out of nowhere, ending the game and her misery.

The next moment she looked into a bouquet of dusty, hopeful faces

waiting their turn at bat and felt guilty.

What was a massive headache and borderline heatstroke in comparison to the unadulterated joy of a kid who had just managed to hit a triple?

She dug in, tabling her prayer for a miracle.

She'd settle for the end of the second running.

The game was scheduled for five innings or an hour and a half,

whichever came first.

She had her suspicions which it would be.

Shading her eyes as another little boy from Jake"s team went up to bat,

Caitlin looked out across the field. She blinked, wondering if mirages

occurrdd in populated areas.

She thought she saw Gray crossing'the dusty field, heading for their batting cage.

It couldn't be Gray.

He was on night duty, where he'd been for the past three weeks.

"That's Dad!"

Jake jumped up, abandoning his position in the lineup.

The next moment he was hurrying to meet his father.

"Jake, you're batting second," she called after him.

Caitlin held the batting helmet aloft.

He didn't hear her.

Running, Jake reached Graham and wound himself around his father's

frame as if he were part snake, part monkey.

Exuberance and joy were written all over his face.

Jake hugged Graham so hard his own arms ached.

"You came! " For a moment Graham was overwhelmed by the display.

Getting his own emotions under control, he nodded.

"Yeah, I came."

He set the boy on the ground again.

"How're you doing?"

Grabbing Graham's hand, Jake dragged him the rest of the way to the

batting cage.

The pitcher, a man Graham vaguely recognized as the father of one of the neighborhood boys, waited until they reached the safety of the

batting cage before he resumed pitching to the small boy at the makeshift plate.

"We're winning," Jake proudly announced in reply.

He looked up at Caitlin for corroboration.

"Right?

Caitlin nodded, her eyes on Jake rather than Graham.

She was afraid Graham would see too much in her eyes if she looked at

him.

"Right."

"Keep it up," Graham told Jake.

He looked at Caitlin as she slipped the batting helmet onto Jake's

head.