No one was going to make Jake go through that if he didn't want to.

Heritage didn't mean anything if it had to be rammed down your

throat.

It had to be subtly taught.

He suspected his mother had learned that.

Finally.

"Nothing for you to worry about," he assured his son.

Time to wrap it up.

Anticipation, or perhaps foreboding, nudged through his veins as he

glanced over his shoulder toward Caitlin.

Was it his imagination, or was she standing a lot closer than she had been? "Jake, things go a lot smoother if you cooperate and stop trying to wheedle your way out of things. In the time you spent arguing and being stubborn, you could have picked up half of your things." "Yeah, maybe."

"Maybe" in Jake's world was a face-saving way of saying yes. Satisfied, Graham shifted his weight, letting one of the detectives pass.

Chambers pointed to the receiver, indicating that he wanted his telephone back.

"Okay. Now give me your grandmother for a minute."

He waited, looking at the scantily dressed woman Valdez was leading to his desk.

The populace of Phoenix had to be bored, looking for ways to entertain itself.

This made three prostitutes in one day.

That exceeded their usual complement by two.

It was going to be a long, hot summer, Graham speculated.

"Yes?"

His mother's voice, soft, wispy, had Graham automatically straightening

his shoulders.

His mother, first daughter of her tribe's medicine man, -was a

small-boned woman who stood only a few inches taller than her grandson, but there was an aura about her that commanded respect.

Even from a six-two police detective.

Especially if that police detective happened to -be her son.

"I talked to Jake for you. He'll dc *hat you tell him."

He nodded at Chambers, who was givin@him the sign to wrap it up.

Lily Redhawk expected nothing less.

"As it should be."

She had been rigid while he was growing up.

So rigid he had run away three times before he was into his teens.

It had taken a long time for him to understand his mother.

Almost as long as it had taken for him to come to terms with what he

was.

An outcast on the cusp of society.

They had both mellowed.

He could talk to her now.

"And Ma? Lighten up on him a little, will you? It's summer."

"Work still has to be done, Graham, whatever the season."

He.

knew she loved the boy.

He also knew, from his own experience, that it was difficult for her to

show it.

"But the world won't end if his bed's not made."

Graham could almost hear what his mother was thinking.

How often had she told him that the spirit was guided by many factors,

all of which had to be in place for a boy to move on the right path as he reached manhood.

Her dissatisfaction was apparent in her voice."Small child, small deeds. Larger child, larger-" "I've got thepicture, Ma. Look to your heart and do what you have to do. I'll seeyou tonight."

Graham hung up after her murmured assurance that she would be there, as usual.

His mother had moved in shortly after Celia had walked out on him.

There were many things about his mother that surprised him.

None had surprised him more than that.

He had needed and she had come.

Somehow, she had known without his saying a word.

It gave him a healthy respect for her ceremonies and what she believed was her connection with the spirit world.

Whatever worked, he mused.

Raising his eyes from the telephone, Graham saw Caitlin looking at him.

She had a strange expression on her face, as if she was observing

something unusual, something she couldn't understand.

Idly he wondered what she was thinking, and why he should even care.

She hadn't meant to eavesdrop.

It had just happened.

Even with the din, she had overheard him.

The words had been formal; the tone hadn't.

Talking to his son, he had behaved exactly the way she had once

envisioned him behaving.

Without meaning to, Caitlin was envious of the people on the other end of the line.

Of his family.

They brought out a gentler side of him.

There were softer edges to Graham when he spoke to his son.

Caitlin wondered what sort of a woman he had married.

And if he was happy.

Let it go, Cait.

It's in the past.

It doesn't matter anymore.

She squared her shoulders and glanced at her watch for his benefit

before raising her eyes to his.

She had always had beautiful eyes, he thought as he approached her.

Turquoise, like the jewelry his mother prized.

"Ready?"

Caitlin nodded and turned toward the outer door.

It was hot in here.

The squad room was beginning to smell musty to her as the press of