her back on a moral obligation.

"I couldn't do that."

Clearly worried, Kerry shook her head.

"My mama always said don't go borrowing trouble, and this is trouble

with a capital T Caitlin moved restlessly around the back room. In front, their part-time salesgirl, Eva, was helping customers. The shop seemed like a million miles away. Caitlin blew out a breath, wondering when her adrenaline was going to settle down again." I wasn't borrowing it-it was thrown at me.

Kerry's wide mouth turned down in a deep frown.

Sometimes Caitlin was a little too noble.

She still didn't understand things about the underbelly of life.

Kerry had grown up in a neighborhood where death stalked the streets

daily, as much a reality as morning coffee.

Sometimes more.

Kerry's protective nature emerged in full bloom.

"You didn't have to catch it." it wasn't in Caitlin to ignore the unignorable. "Kerry, if everyone pretended not to see, this would be a very scary world."

Kerry placed a hand on Caitlin's shoulder.

"Not if everyone minded their own business."

Caitlin was older by eight months, but in so many ways she was an

innocent.

It was part of the reason they were friends.

The agitation Caitlin was feeling spilled out in her voice.

"I can't believe you. Do you actually mean to tell me that if you saw

someone shot, you wouldn't report it?"

It was more of a dilemma than Caitlin knew.

Kerry sighed.

"I know the difference between right and wrong, Cait, but that's for

the other guy."

Kerry waved a hand vaguely.

"For television shows where they still wear white hats and black hats

and things get resolved tidily."

She took hold of her friend's shoulders.

She.

didn't want to think of anything happening to Caitlin.

"What if you identify this creep and he finds out about it? What if he

comes looking for you to eliminate . the witness?"

Caitlin blow out a long breath.

"Thanks, Kerry, I needed that."

Kerry threw up her hands, knowing it was useless to argue.

Caitlin put a fine spin on stubbornness.

"I just don't want you taking any unnecessary chances, Cait, that's all."

Caitlin's annoyance softened.

She realized that it was just nerves that were making her so defensive.

"Thanks for worrying, but I have to be able to look at myself in the mirror, too."

"At least you'd be alive to look."

This was nonsense, Caitlin thought, hiding out in the back room, waiting for her nerves to cease short-circuiting.

She'd feel a lot better mingling with her customers.

No matter what, she always felt better around people.

Her mother had accused her more than once of being far too friendly.

Caitlin smiled to herself, wondering what her mother would have to say

about this.

She hoped that it wouldn't reach the newspapers.

One of her mother's friends was bound to see and call her about it.

God knew she wasn't about to call her mother and volunteer the story.

These days she and her mother spoke at an absolute minimum.

When Caitlin did call, it was out of a sense of duty.

The need for approval had long since passed, and in any event, Caitlin

knew that nothing she did would ever please Regina Langford Cassidy or reflect well, in her mother's estimation, on the lineage that was so very precious to her.

"I'm going out to do some work," Caitlin announced to Kerry.

Caitlin glanced at herself in the small mirror that hung on the wall near the door.

Her mouth was pale.

She'd bitten off her lipstick.

That had probably happened during the 911 call she'd placed.

The one with her heart lodged in her throat.

She'd been so agitated, Caitlin was surprised that she had gotten any words out at all.

"Here," Kerry said, handing her a tube of lipstick.

"We don't want you frightening away the customers."

She offered Caitlin an encouraging smile.

Stubborn or not, she was still her best friend.

By the time Kerry had arrived in the shop, Caitlin had had an hour to

calm herself down.

She was no longer shaking.

At least, not outwardly.

Inwardly was a different story.

With no effort at all, Caitlin could still see the look of horror on

the little man's face as he dropped to the pavement.

She could still see the blood flowing from him like an angry red river, pooling along his body.

And she probably would for a very long time to come.

Struggling against being engulfed by the memory, she twisted the top

off the lipstick and reapplied the slight sheen of pink to her lips.

Unconsciously squaring her shoulders, Caitlin walked out of the back room.

The shop was long and narrow and had an elegance to it that she was