fast-talking wrestling star in his prime. This man before him was old beyond his years, old and tired. The once robust frame had shrunk, pulling into itself. A sadness Chad was unprepared for came over him.

His father stirred, as if sensing his presence. The small, blue eyes opened, squinting as he tried to focus. Jerome Andreini shaded his eyes, though there was little light in the room.

"Chad?" he asked uncertainly, like a man who wasn't sure if he was awake or dreaming.

Chad moved closer to the bed. "I thought I'd stop by and see how you were doing."

His father felt around on the blanket for the control that powered his bed.

Seeing it, Chad pushed the small beige rectangle into his father's hand. A grateful smile creased the sunken face. Jerome pressed a b.u.t.ton and the top section elevated, allowing him a better view of his son. "I'm doing okay, I guess, for a man with both feet in the grave."

It surprised Chad how much the comment bothered him. "Don't bury yourself yet, old man. While you're lying here counting away your minutes, medicine's making great strides."

The dry laugh ended in a cough. "You didn't used to be an optimist."

He still wasn't. But he was more open to the idea that sometimes things did go right. And open to the idea that sometimes people needed hope instead of cold, comfortless facts. "Things change."

His father looked at him for a long moment, as if searching for something.

"Yeah," he finally said, "they do." Guilt etched his features. "Look, boy, great medical strides aside, I don't know how much longer I have. I want to tell you...

About what happened, I-"

Chad waved his hand, dismissing words that refused to form. "It's in the past. No sense revisiting it, right?"

"Right," his father agreed. "But I still want to say I'm sorry. For everything."

Chad resisted the temptation to say that being sorry didn't change the past.

Because it might change the future.

"Okay, you've said it. Now concentrate on getting your strength back." A nurse looked into the room, her manner silently encouraging Chad to take his leave.

Visiting hours were over. Relieved, he began edging toward the door. "Well, I'd better be heading out. Like I said, I just wanted to stop by to look in on you."

His father was almost pitifully grateful. "I appreciate it, Chad. I really do."

Maybe he did, Chad thought. Self-conscious, he shrugged away the grat.i.tude. "Let me know if you need anything."

Jerome was all but beaming as he looked at the son he had wronged. The son who had finally forgiven him. "I already got it."

Chad didn't know what to say to that, didn't know how to respond. He mumbled his goodbye and left.

Feeling oddly good for a man who was admittedly pretty miserable.

He couldn't collect his thoughts. They kept drifting away from him like clouds traveling across a clear spring sky, going where he couldn't reach them.

Just like the past few days.

He'd lost track of what day it was. Even the calendar on his desk didn't help.

He'd only managed to stare at it blankly.

Hitting the backs.p.a.ce b.u.t.ton on his keyboard, he deleted everything he'd attempted to write in the past half hour. A line and a half.

"Want some time off?"

He looked up, surprised to see Cade standing in his doorway. Normally, Chad was keenly aware of his surroundings. Being caught off guard wasn't like him. He was far too preoccupied for his own liking. It had to stop.

But when?

"No," Chad answered, looking back at the blank screen. "Why?"

Cade moved into the room, concerned. "Because you seem a little off your game.

You've earned the time, you know, if you want to take it."

Chad began to hunt and peck again, making yet another attempt to write an overdue

report on the case that had come before Veronica's. "I don't want to take it," he

said curtly. "I just want to go on working."

"It doesn't really work, you know."

Chad looked up. "What doesn't?"

Cade gestured toward the computer and the stack of paper around it. "Trying to bury yourself in work. You've got to come up for air sometime, and that's when it hits you."

He spoke from experience. The agency had been founded because he wanted to find his own missing son, and until that day came, he'd wanted to keep so busy he didn't have time to think. But thoughts came, anyway.

"Whatever it is you're trying to get away from grabs you right by the throat and hangs on." He shook his head at the memory. "I should know."

Chad was well aware of Cade's story, of the years that had gone by before Darin had finally been found. "No offense, but this isn't the same thing."

Cade rested his hip against Chad's desk, his arms folded across his chest. "Oh, I don't know, trying to run from whatever it is that's bothering you is always the same thing. Want my advice?" He didn't wait for Chad to answer. "Deal with it. Or with her."

Chad's back went up instantly. "What makes you think it's a her?"

If Cade had doubted it before, Chad's reaction clinched it. "Because Veronica Lancaster had the same look on her face you do now when she stopped by here yesterday."

"She was here?" What had she been doing here? He thought of Casey. Had someone else taken him?

"She came by to give me a letter of praise to put into your file. I didn't bother telling her I didn't keep files on my partners. The letter's in my office if you want to see it."

Chad shook his head. Seeing it would only prolong a link that was better off broken.

"I got the distinct impression she was hoping to b.u.mp into you." Cade began to walk out of Chad's office. "Why don't you see if you can b.u.mp into her?"

He made it sound so easy, Chad thought, irritated. "Because she's champagne, and I'm beer."

Cade didn't see it that way, but didn't bother stating it. He went for the obvious. "They can still be served at the same party. And who knows, maybe you can come up with a new drink."

Cade walked out, leaving Chad with something to think about.