There was no point in arguing, in saying that she liked the life she led far more than her mother's.

There were no words available in the English language that would convince Regina Cassidy of that.

"All water under the bridge, Mother. I did hopscotch and I did see."

She glanced at the offending article.

"And some idiot did write about it."

Thin fingers opened and closed impotently at'Regina's side.

"Other people will read this."

Caitlin turned away and busied herself with the display Kerry had abandoned.

"I suspect if they pay for the newspaper, they might."

She purposely kept her tone mild,- refusing to be baited into an argument.

What went through that empty head of hers?

"How am I to hold up my head when my daughter is involved in something

so vulgar?" she demanded.

You, always you, Mother.

Never me.

Never a care about what might happen to me.

"You'll find a way, Mother-you always have."

Rage clawed at Regina.

Gripping her daughter's shoulder, she forced Caitlin to turn and face

her.

"You know, ever since that-that savage was in your life-" Anger entered Caitlin's eyes. Gray might have walked out on her, but that didn't change the way she had once felt about him.

And it didn't mean that her mother could rob him of his due.

"He's a Native American, Mother," she corrected tersely.

A mirthless smile twisted the genteel features.

This, at least, had gone her way.

"I don't care what he calls himself. He would have dragged you down

even farther than this incident might-" "Hello, Ms. Cassidy. Still

espousing the same philosophies, I see."

Regina turned, paling slightly beneath her translucent makeup.

They had been so involved arguing, neither woman had heard the bell ringing.

Graham Redhawk stood in the doorway.

Regina stared at him as if she were watching an apparition.

"You," she whispered hoarsely, like Faustus greeting the devil at

midnight.

Graham inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Regina swung around and glared at her daughter.

"What, is he the other drug pusher?"

"No."

Graham's voice was calm as he crossed to the women.

"I'm investigating the death of the drug pusher."

Regina appeared as if she couldn't assimilate the information she'd

just been given.

"He's with the police department, Mother," Caitlin clarified.

Regina's thin nostrils flared slightly, as if she were standing

downwind of something odious and very ripe.

"A patrolman? " Crooked, no doubt.

His kind always was.

"Detective," he corrected mildly.

Caitlin couldn't help seeing the humor in the situation.

The list of people her mother looked down her nose at was extensive.

Yet, under the right circumstances, she hypocritically denied it.

Regina Cassidy had chaired at least one poce charity.

"You know, Mother, one of those people dedicated to protecting us."

Only one thing registered clearly.

He was standing here, across from her daughter.

Just the way he had eleven years ago.

It was the ultimate insult.

"When did you start seeing him again?"

Regina demanded, addressing her daughter as if Graham wasn't standing

in the room.

"She didn't," he interjected coolly.

"I've been assigned to her case, Mrs. Cassidy."

He saw the surprised look on Caitlin's face.

That makes two of us, he thought.

Caitlin's mother looked as if she was going to curse him and every

single one of his ancestors, back to the dawn of time.

He wasn't wrong.

"Is that the excuse you're using to crawl back into her life?"

Caitlin had had enough.

She rounded the counter, placing herself between her mother and

Graham.

"Mother, if you're not going to buy anything, I'm afraid I'm going to

have to ask you to leave. I don't have time to socialize."

She thrust the newspaper back toward her mother.

Regina drew herself up, Marie Antoinette facing down the masses who

were begging for sustenance.

She had come with the sole intent of getting her daughter to give up this foolishness of pretending to run a business.

"Are you ipoming with me?"

A stubborn glint entered Caitlin's eyes, one that Graham' found very