October, 1986

It was late and the staff was quietly tidying the bar for closing. The dark wood, rich leather and subdued lighting made this a place for retreat and relaxation. The customers were a mix of civilian and military, with one round table surrounded by Air Force officers.

With groans of weariness and companionable grousing about their jobs, several officers pushed back their chairs and tossed money onto the table to settle their bills. Colonel Robert Clayton resisted the homeward tide, and savored his drink and his thoughts a while longer. One officer turned back from the door and returned to the central round table. He tossed his coat and hat into a nearby chair, and signaled the waitress for another scotch on the rocks.

"Bob, I don't mean to intrude, but I can't leave without saying my piece."

"Sure, Pete. Sit down and speak your mind."

Pete settled in the chair beside Colonel Clayton, his hands nervously smoothing his blond, crew-cut hair. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow as he searched for words. Glancing at the colonel, he sipped his drink and began, "I've liked Skip since we were all stationed near Cherbourg. I've never seen a kid shower so much affection on a pet as he did on that roan mare."

Bob breathed a quick laugh, shaking his head fondly at the memory, "He sure did like that worn out nag."

Pete sipped a little more courage and pressed on, "I've been glad to hear updates about him over the years. I was real pleased tonight to hear that he had found a woman who captures his heart."

Bob shook the ice cubes in his glass and said warmly, "Ah, Pete, she's a real winner. She won me over when I first met her. Took Skip a bit longer. Heh, heh. They've been together for more than a year and it's starting to sound serious."

Pete smoothed his mustache and looked away, hesitating one last moment. Deciding to speak up, he slapped his hand on the table, looked straight at the Colonel and plunged in, "Well, now, see – that's the part that's worrying me. I think I met that little lady, just once, several years ago. I never could decide whether she was a true damsel in distress or the slickest con artist I ever met. I considered the details you mentioned tonight about your conversation with Skip, and dredged up my memories, and decided I just needed to lay it out for you and let you decide what to do with it. I can't just leave tonight without saying something."

The Colonel sat up straighter and pierced his friend with his gaze. "What makes you think you know Amanda King?"

Pete was committed now to share what he knew and he leaned forward, eager to get this off his chest. "Your details were minimal and I might be mistaken, but the name's right. And Virginia is right. Do you know if she was a law student?"

"I believe her first husband was a lawyer, but I don't recall hearing any details." The colonel was skeptical, but ready to listen to his friend.

These memories had been churning in Pete's mind all evening and he had hesitated to meddle in a private matter, but Bob and Skip deserved to know what he knew. "Alright, then, it's like this: I was on leave in 1976, visiting family in South Carolina. My cousin was Police Chief in Hilton Head and I spent a week with him. Weekends in resort beach towns can be lively and I was a fly on the wall enjoying the action in the police station. One of the teams called in a report of marijuana use at one of the big rental houses down the beach. They said the smell was proof enough, and visual observations suggested other drug use as well. The neighbors had called and complained of noise, but the drug involvement made it more than a simple "disturbing the peace" house call. A big house like that might hold accommodations for 10 to 20 people, and a drug party could easily have dozens of folks there."

"Of course, it was impossible for me to actually assist with police business, but extra visible manpower increased the intimidation factor to subdue any resistance. I waited with one of the rookies at an outer perimeter about 50 yards down the street from the house, while the police blocked escape down the beach or out any of the side doors. It was a peaceable drug bust - plenty of yelling and scuffling, but no real resistance. After they were all loaded up and taken to the police station, the rookie and I went in to close up the house for the night. An investigative team would be coming to collect evidence, and we were tasked with closing the windows and locking all the doors to preserve that evidence." Pete's eyes had the slightly unfocused look of someone picturing another time and place.

"There were a heap of windows in that house, and the rookie went upstairs while I handled the main floor. That's when I met this Amanda King. The house was built with a closet under the stairs, and there was a powerful stench from a puddle of vomit in there. I reached out to close the door, and glimpsed movement from inside the closet. I stooped and looked into the loveliest brown eyes and most woebegone face I've ever seen. She said, "I think I'm stuck; could you pull me out of here?" She had wedged herself under the stairs so tightly that she had cramped, and of course, she didn't want to wallow through that puddle. I pulled her out of the hole she was in, massaged her ankles and calves, and handed her a wet towel from the kitchen to wipe off the worst of the vomit."

Pete's gaze returned to the present and he faced Bob squarely. His voice conveyed the sense that he had examined the evidence repeatedly, but was still uncertain about his conclusions. "During all that time, I was debating whether to send her to the station like the others. Of course, it shouldn't have been a question at all; I had no authority to make such decisions - but she seemed sober - and the cramped muscles supported her story that she'd been in the closet for several hours. And, Bob, I'm telling you, she charmed me completely. Long brown hair. Trembling smile. She told me she had two small boys and needed to get back to Virginia to take care of them and they would never understand why their mother had to go to jail for something she hadn't done. She said a lot more than that; I couldn't keep up with it all. In the end, I distracted the rookie with conversation in a back bedroom while she slipped into the front bedroom, gathered her things and snuck out of the house."

Pete paused for another sip of his drink. His eyes flickered around the bar, but his focus remained on his internal debate. "To this day, I've never mentioned her to my cousin, but I made it a point to ask for details and follow up on that night. The primary culprit was a Jim Saranin; he had rented the house for the weekend. Most of the participants had been law students at Georgetown University and this was an informal reunion. Saranin's been a ne'er-do-well up and down the Carolina coasts since then. He uses his law degree to get away with behavior that shouldn't be tolerated. He's been implicated in several drug operations, but always squeezes free through some technicality or loop-hole. Smuggling, dealing – they can't pin anything on him."

Shaking his head, still caught up in his own musings, he continued. "I never can decide whether I was thoroughly duped, or rescued a genuine damsel from her distress. And the worst part is that I never even knew whether she made it home safe to those boys or not. It was long after midnight when I last saw her. I don't know whether she had a car available, or if she slept on the beach, or if she checked into a hotel sneering at the gullibility of a gentleman. I always hoped she got home safe."

Feeling some embarrassment and wary of the Colonel's response, Pete shifted his gaze to the depths of his glass and concluded, "There it is, Bob. It might not be the same woman, but I'd hate for Skip to be duped by a lovely face."

Bob considered Pete's words while crunching the last of the ice in his glass. "That's quite a tale. Amanda could charm the birds from the trees, and she has two sons that could fit in your story. I'll question Skip about it. Thanks for the tip."

Lee's apartment later that week

Lee was speaking into the telephone and pacing: "No, sir. Absolutely not. I will not question Amanda based on some flimsy bar room gossip. (pause) Yes, I remember Pete. (pause) Yes, I trust his memory and his observations. He might know one Amanda King, but I certainly know THIS Amanda King and I trust my observations over his. (pause) This subject is closed, Colonel. Good-night." As usual, a phone call from his uncle had stirred up anger, frustration and resentment. Lee rubbed the back of his neck and forcefully exhaled a deep breath. Although he had hung up the phone, Lee knew his uncle wouldn't be put off so easily. Clenching his jaw in frustration, Lee vowed to stand his ground against his uncle's well-meaning interference. He grabbed his gym bag and car keys, determined to sweat away his tension with a hard physical work out.

After "Need to Know" written by Joan Brooker and Nancy Eddo
December, 1986

Lee retrieved the unlabeled file folder from the depths of his desk drawer in the Q Bureau. He glanced at the contents one last time – a single sheet of paper with the words "Jim Saranin – Hilton Head – 1976?" written on it. He was ashamed to have created the file, but he chuckled to recall Amanda's reaction to it. His uncle had called several times insisting that Lee check into the matter with Amanda. Lee had stonewalled the colonel for months, but cleaning out his closets with Amanda had weakened his resolve. It was uncomfortable having his tawdry past dragged out of the closets. He thought it would feel better to turn the tables on her and bring up just one unsavory episode of her past. His uncle's information was a wild card, but Lee was pleasantly surprised to hit pay dirt with one little question. Granted, he had to repeat the question, but watching Amanda squirm was delightfully endearing. Just the memory of tussling with her in the coin toss was enough to make him smile. Lee was glad that work had interfered before either he or Amanda had disclosed secrets which were best left hidden. He ripped the page from the fasteners, crumpled it into a ball. and tossed it in the trash. He would not question Amanda about it again. He could honestly tell the colonel that he had discussed the matter with her, and she had answered all questions to his satisfaction. Colonel Robert Clayton did not have a need to know the details of this little investigation.

Amanda's House
May, 1987

Amanda paused in her dusting and answered the phone with her usual cheer, "Oh, hello Colonel. What a surprise to hear from you."

Colonel Clayton sounded like a man with no time to waste on pleasantries. "I'm at the airport on a short lay-over and need to speak to you in person. Could you meet me here this morning?"

Amanda thought that the colonel seemed even more gruff today than normal. She checked her watch, grimaced at her housecleaning attire of sweatshirt and bluejeans and said, "Well, sure. I could be there in about half an hour. Is anything wrong, sir?" This unexpected call raised a dozen questions.

"No, I don't think anything's wrong, but this is very important. Oh, and don't mention this to Lee." This terse reply heightened her sense that something was very wrong.

She said, "Oh. Uh, okay. See you soon" and hung up.

After changing into a red checked blouse, styling her hair and freshening her make-up, she stepped into the garden saying, "Mother, I have to run out to the airport to meet with Lee's uncle. It shouldn't take me more than a couple of hours. Could you be sure the boys are ready for the Buckners to pick them up at 11:00? I'll leave money on the counter for their pizza and the movie."

Dotty replied, "That's fine, Amanda. I can finish out here, get the boys out of the house, and then spend the afternoon with my new book. It's so hard to read with the boys in and out all day."

Airport Terminal

It was a beautiful spring day and Amanda enjoyed the drive. Traffic was light and parking was no more crowded than she expected. Without luggage, she could weave through the airport congestion with ease. The only challenge to her typical optimism was the lingering sense of trouble suggested by the Colonel's phone call. Despite her efforts to dispel the gloom, it was a cloud on this otherwise sunny day.

Amanda squeezed through the hurrying passengers to greet the Colonel in the concourse near his departure gate. As they talked, he took her elbow and steered her into a coffee shop, bypassing the pastry counter and clamoring customers, to a bistro table in the back. There were too many tables for the space, but it was quieter back here. He signaled for two coffees and held Amanda's seat for her before perching on the small metal chair.

Amanda smiled in welcome, "Sir, sorry to keep you waiting. It's so good to see you again."

Colonel Clayton didn't thaw, and his stern demeanor belied his polite greeting: "Amanda, it's a pleasure to see you. Thank you for coming on such short notice." He busied himself with his coffee, but didn't really notice its taste.

Stirring her coffee, Amanda asked, "Is it anything serious? My imagination's been running wild with possibilities."

The colonel was glad to dispense with the chatter and get down to business. He fixed his eyes on her eyes and forged ahead. "I'll tell it to you straight. Family is very important to me. I don't have much of it, so I protect what I have. I may not have raised Skip with a mother's love, but I did my best, and I'm still watching out for his best interests."

This was familiar ground for Amanda and she quickly offered her agreement, "Oh, I understand that, sir. Family is very important." She took a cautious sip of her coffee.

The colonel's next words catapulted her into unfamiliar territory, "That's why I must insist that you tell me about Jim Saranin in 1976."

Amanda was stunned and she stammered, "I beg your pardon, sir?" Despite the panic stirred up by the intrusive question, Amanda could spare a fleeting thought for how Lee must have felt growing up with this type of scrutiny. Facing that implacable manner every day would be good experience for building defensive walls.

Sternly, the colonel stated, "You heard me. Lee has stonewalled me for more than 6 months, so I decided to come straight to you to get some answers."

Amanda tried another careful sip of coffee, stalling for time. She said, "I really don't think..."

But the colonel interrupted her with the firm demand, "I must tell you that if I don't get answers today, I'll mail this copy of my facts and suspicions to Mr. Melrose and let him ask the questions. I intend to get to the bottom of this before your relationship with my nephew goes any further. Is that clear?" He held up a business sized envelope with the IFF address clearly printed on the front. It was sealed and stamped – ready to be mailed. Amanda reeled from the intensity of his words. She fidgeted with the paper place mat and looked around nervously while she considered her options. She realized if she had answered Lee's questions months ago, she wouldn't be sitting here now facing his uncle's accusing stare.

She decided to give in gracefully, rather than prolong the questioning. Amanda tossed her head to the right and shrugged. "Oh, sir. How can I ever explain that weekend? It's my deepest, darkest secret – or at least it was before I met Lee. Even my mother doesn't know the full story. It wasn't that I did anything particularly bad, it's just that I was so very embarrassed at the cascading effect of one bad choice after another. When I remember that weekend, I am gripped with shame, and I tried to buried it deep enough so that I wouldn't think about it at all."

Amanda was willing to talk, but she couldn't sustain eye contact with the colonel. Her eyes shifted to the three plastic flowers on the table, the abstract print on the wall and the service ribbons on the colonel's blue uniform. With fleeting glances at his face, she told her tale. "I had been married for nearly four years and had two pre-schoolers. The normal pressures of mothering were wearing me down, and my husband's job had made me more of a single parent than a wife and mother. I guess I was pretty vulnerable when I ran into Jim that first time. It had been a few years since we'd all left law school, and it was fun to recall our student years and swap bits of news about old classmates. Of course, I hadn't been a law student, but we had lived in apartments near the law school until Joe graduated, and most of our friends went to Georgetown, too. After that first meeting, I saw Jim around town often – in the park or at the grocery store. Years later it occurred to me that he probably had some way of knowing when Joe was out of town, because I never saw him when I was with Joe. I think maybe he was "testing the waters" with me, just to see if I was open to some hanky-panky." Amanda seemed to run out of steam as she remembered the weariness of the early years of mothering, the energy of her college years, and the unspoken longings to turn back the clock that encounters with Jim stirred up.

With another glance and a small smile, she continued, "Jim started talking about getting together with the old gang, and planning a weekend reunion, and so forth, and it sounded like a lot of fun. It would be great to shed some responsibility for a while and laugh with old friends. Joe and I argued a lot when he was in town, and I didn't have any social life when he was gone. A weekend reunion captured my imagination and picked up my spirits some. Joe was against the idea from the start, and the reunion was scheduled during a month when he planned to be gone. Knowing his opposition, I dropped the subject with him, but continued to think about it, and hoped to go without Joe finding out about it. That was my first mistake."

She looked away, shaking her head at her folly. "I was discouraged that Jim wanted to hold the reunion in Hilton Head, but he knew someone with a house on the beach and the location made it easier for alumni who worked in Atlanta to come, too. So he persuaded me to attend in spite of the distance. I asked mother to come keep the boys and made plans to cut the trip to and from Hilton Head by staying overnight with Aunt Lillian. It's a 10 or 11 hour drive from Arlington to Hilton Head depending on meals and rest stops."

"On the drive to Hilton Head, I started realizing what a fool I had been. I had no business sneaking around behind Joe's back like that. And I was terribly uncomfortable being so far from my sons. I wanted to turn back, but it wouldn't be polite to not show up when I had helped to plan the event. The beach house was beautiful – right on the beach, wide wrap-around porch, plenty of room for a large crowd. It was a perfect setting for beach volleyball and grilled burgers. When I arrived, Jim said I was the first guest and he took my bag to the bedroom he had claimed for the weekend. That was my first clue that he had a hidden agenda about the reunion. When he wasn't looking, I moved my gear to a different bedroom, expecting to be joined by other women for the weekend. It turned out that Jim had told the other guests to arrive on Saturday morning. He had tricked me into coming early so that he and I would be alone. Fortunately, some of his friends showed up Friday night, before Jim could get me cornered. As they started drinking, I locked myself into one of the bedrooms, wedged the dresser between the door and the bed as a barricade, and pretended to be asleep."

"On Saturday, as people started arriving, I also realized that Jim's "old gang" and Joe's "old gang" were not the same people. Joe and I hung around with folks who were passionate about truth and justice. Jim's friends were more interested in loop-holes and pushing the limits of the law to see how far they could go without getting caught. I should have left, but I couldn't figure out how to explain to Aunt Lillian why I had left early. I was proud and I was foolish and I was miserable, and I couldn't make a good decision to save my life. I kept thinking "What if Joe finds out I came to this reunion?" I knew it wouldn't look good to him and I'd never regain his trust." Amanda paused and swallowed several sips of coffee. The rest of her story would be even harder to tell, but she was determined to finish.

With another glance at the colonel's stern face, she continued, "As it started getting dark, the drinking gave way to pot smoking, and I still didn't leave. Couples started pairing off and making out. Some of them were really indecent and I just tried to keep my eyes averted from the action. Then I saw pills and needles in the darkest corners, and I started getting really scared. The bedroom I had chosen already had two couples in it, so that was no refuge. By that time, it was really too late to leave. I slipped into the hall closet and started shifting boxes to hide behind them for the night. As I moved the boxes, I realized that the closet was under the stairs and extended nearly to the foot of the staircase. I decided to squeeze myself into that tiny little space, and pull a few boxes close to make a hiding place. I was feeling clever about my plan, but a couple looking for a little privacy stumbled into the closet before I could get comfortably settled. At some point, the boy puked all over the girl and passed out. She fled the closet, but the boy was in the doorway, so I couldn't close the door and I was afraid to move. Maybe an hour later, I could tell that my muscles were cramping and when I tried to shift, I realized that I couldn't move. So I was trapped in this closet with vomit puddling the floor, drugs and sex and booze flowing through the house, and I was tormented with what would happen if anyone knew I had been there."

"Then, the police raided the house." Amanda shuddered with the memories. "That was when I nearly died of fright. Imagine! Me with a police record! It could ruin Joe's career. It could ruin my already fragile marriage. I could go to jail. Who would take care of my children? I ignored my cramping legs and stayed as still and quiet as I could. The boy who had passed out was carried away, but the stinking vomit remained so no one came near the closet. I could hear the others being put into cars and vans to go to the police station, and I started to think I was safe. I couldn't stop thinking about how foolish I had been from the very beginning. I should have known better than to trust Jim Saranin. I should not have come without Joe. I should have left when I first arrived. I really should have left when they started smoking pot. Over and over I rehearsed my dumb mistakes. The house quieted down, and I started trying to wiggle out of the cubby-hole. I must have whimpered or something because suddenly a man was in the doorway of the closet looking right at me. I figured I'd better give myself up, so I asked him to help me get out of the tight space I was in."

The remembered fright had brought tears to her eyes and Amanda's hands were shaking. She dabbed at her eyes with a napkin, and her voice trembled as she said, "He pulled me out, and...well, sir...when I'm nervous, I talk. I could not stop my mouth the whole time he was pulling me out and massaging my cramped muscles and helping me wipe the filth from my clothes. I don't know what all I said, and I can't imagine how I convinced him to help me get away, but he pulled the other officer into one of the bedrooms while I gathered my things and slipped out of the house. I hid on the beach until I saw them leave and then got in my car and started driving."

Again, Amanda paused, letting the warm coffee soothe her anxiety. The worst of the sorry tale was over. Amanda sighed deeply and fixed her eyes on the napkin she had shredded in her hands. "I desperately wanted to take a shower, but I couldn't stay in Hilton Head another minute. I got to Aunt Lillian's exit, but I just couldn't go to her house, looking and smelling so bad, so I didn't stop. Through the Carolinas I was operating mostly on adrenalin and dread. By the time I crossed into Virginia, the call of motherhood was surging in my veins and I could hardly wait to get back to my sons. I made a quick detour through the UVA women's locker room to shower and put on clean clothes. And then I made a bee line for my home. Mother was surprised to see me a day early, and she called Aunt Lillian to tell her not to expect me for the night. Mother must have suspected that something went wrong, but I told her only the cheery details, and exclaimed how much I missed my boys. After all of the misery, hugging my boys felt like heaven."

Another glance at the Colonel's face showed his fierce reserve melting and Amanda tried to smile. It was a shaky attempt, and her eyes dropped again. "It was a humiliating and frightening weekend. I never saw Jim after that and when we moved to the house in Arlington, I thought maybe I had lost him for good. Like I said, I buried those memories and tried to rebuild my self-esteem. I can't tell you how surprised I was when Lee asked about Jim a few months ago. Are you the one who told him about it?" Now that the memory had been laid bare to the light, she could see that it wasn't such an incriminating episode after all. She was relieved to be able to view the follies of her youth with the tolerance gained from experience.

At last, the colonel offered a small smile, "Yes, Amanda, I am. One of my old friends heard me talking about Skip's lady love and recognized your name. He's the one who pulled you from the closet that night." The Colonel chuckled and shook his head, "Pete couldn't decide whether he had helped an honest lady out of her troubles, or whether he had been duped by some con artist. And he always wondered if you had made it home safely to your sons."

Remembering how close Lee had come to marrying a KGB agent, Amanda could appreciate the Colonel's concern. Amanda smiled warmly, "Please, thank him for me and tell him that I get home safely." The sparkle returned to her eyes as the anxiety eased.

"I'll be glad to do that, Amanda." The Colonel took Amanda's hand in his own. "Skip said you had answered his questions to his satisfaction, but I needed to hear those answers, too. They're calling my flight now. Walk me to my gate."

The Colonel left a few bills on the table to pay for the coffee. As they rose from the table and squeezed through the small coffee shop, Amanda asked, "Could I ask why you call Lee "Skip"?"

The Colonel avoided looking at Amanda as he answered, "Matthew Stetson was a fine man, a credit to his family and a tragic loss. I just could NOT see many of Matthew's fine qualities in Lee. So I started calling him "Skip" as a way of chiding him that his father's virtues had skipped a generation, because Lee certainly didn't have them. Well, I suppose that Lee's gotten better about that as an adult, but the name's a habit now." They stood in the concourse near the gate where the Colonel's flight was boarding.

Shyly Amanda said, "Sir, I think for someone who values family so much, maybe you could express how much you value Lee by using his given name. It might make amends when he finds out about this little conversation."

The colonel cleared his throat and ruefully said, "I'll certainly give that some consideration. I'm sure Skip – uh,Lee, will think I'm out of line by talking to you about all this. I don't suppose you'd be interested in keeping our little talk confidential?" The colonel fidgeted with his flight bag and couldn't meet Amanda's teasing eyes.

With a big smile, Amanda said, "I don't think I can, since I see him pushing through the crowd just beyond that news stand." The Colonel looked around and saw Lee dodging people, suitcases and vendors in a way that demonstrated his single-minded focus on his destination.

Hurriedly the colonel said, "I think a dignified retreat is in order. Good-by Amanda." He hugged her briefly and strode quickly to the check point and down the jetway.

Amanda waved and laughingly said, "Good by, Colonel. Come again when you can stay awhile." She turned to enjoy the sight of her husband dashing to her rescue. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black t-shirt, and her heart thrilled to see him.

Lee raced up to Amanda as the Colonel ducked through the final check station into the jetway without looking back. He grabbed both of Amanda's arms, and scanned her face with barely controlled fury. "What did he do to you? Has he been badgering you? Why did you meet with him without ME? Amanda, are you alright?" Lee finally quieted as Amanda's voice finally broke through.

Amanda gently patted Lee's chest as she said. "Lee, calm down, calm down. It isn't as bad as you think. You're making a scene. Let's go in here for some coffee and explanations." Her reassuring smile framed by her lovely curls defused the tension in Lee's hold.

Lee escorted Amanda back to the table she had just left with the Colonel. His twitching jaw muscles and clenching fist showed that he was struggling to get his temper under control. As soon as they were seated, Lee asked again, "Amanda, why did you come here without calling me first?"

Amanda captured his hand in her own and explained, "He asked me not to call you and I didn't see any reason to question his request until I knew what he wanted. He was determined to hear all about Jim Saranin in 1976 and you had not satisfied him."

Still agitated, Lee fumed, "He had no right to corner you about that. Amanda, I'm sorry. He's been hounding me for months trying to get information. At first, I refused to ask you, but that weekend when we cleaned out my closets left me...well...you know... a little chagrined about my past." Lee's facial expression shifted from fury to rueful confession. He ran his hand through his hair and exhaled in disgust. He couldn't hold Amanda's gaze and his eyes shifted away from her face. "You already knew what my relationships had been like, but seeing the details through your eyes that day was torment. I thought it would help balance things if I could dig up just one secret from your past. So, I set you up in the Q Bureau that morning to agree to share our secrets." He ducked his head and smiled bashfully at her, looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

"Oh, Sweetheart. I thought I had successfully dodged that question, only to find out that your uncle was determined to get the truth."

"Did you tell him you had "selective amnesia"?" Lee kissed her hand as the laughter built between them. Their eyes brimmed with love and teasing affection.

"No, and I didn't tell him that we wrestled over a coin toss either." Amanda's laughter fizzled through her words. "It's a good thing Francine told us not to explain. I can't imagine what we could have said to restore any sense of professional dignity."

Their shared laughter siphoned off the last of Lee's anger. He brushed his hand through his hair again and heaved a big sigh. "A call from Billy interrupted us just in time to squash that whole conversation. I never guessed the colonel would ambush you to satisfy his curiosity."

Playing peacemaker, Amanda soothed, "Now, Lee, he didn't "ambush" me. Granted, I was surprised, but it's not such a big deal. I had wondered how you had heard about Jim Saranin, but I didn't dare ask for fear of starting the discussion again. Now I know how that skeleton popped out of its closet, but I sure don't want your uncle to know things about me that you don't know. Let me tell you about it, while you walk me to my car."

They left the small table and Lee followed Amanda out of the coffee shop to the busy concourse. As soon as they passed through the dense crowd into a calmer space, Lee stopped and swung Amanda around into his arms. "For a man who hasn't seen his wife in hours, I've waited entirely too long for a proper 'good morning' greeting." Amanda enjoyed the kiss and his surrounding arms, but she was ready to give Lee the details so she began her story as soon as the kiss ended. Lee snugged Amanda close to his side as she explained about that troublesome weekend, hips bumping gently, all the way to the car.

Airport Parking Lot

Amanda wrapped up her story as they approached her car. "So you see it was just one foolish mistake and bad choice after another. I've been duped in Agency work, but that weekend with Jim was like winning the Olympic event of naivete. And it wasn't some professional con man deliberately confusing me, it was just old friends and bad circumstances. I hope I'm never that recklessly foolish again."

Lee smiled as she sighed over her misspent youth. He leaned back against Amanda's car door and drew her into his embrace. Amanda tucked her face into Lee's neck, and relaxed her body against his. The sun had warmed the car's metal pleasantly. He was aware of the contrast between the warm metal behind him and her cool hair against his face. They savored the comfort of sheltering one another.

"Let's review the case. You evaded being trapped. You used available resources to establish a secure defensive position - twice. Finally, you avoided capture and made a clean escape from a dangerous situation. Even back then, you had good instincts."

"Oh, Lee, that's so sweet. I never thought about it like that." She smoothed her hands across the soft black t-shirt where it stretched tautly over his shoulders.

"I certainly made my share of bad choices with relationships," he murmured into her hair. He could feel the swelling curve of her cheek against his throat as she smiled her agreement. "But those choices, for me and for you, are firmly in the past. You are my choice, no matter what happened in 1976."

Still snuggled close, Amanda said, "Your uncle told me that 'I intend to get to the bottom of this before your relationship with my nephew goes any further.' I could only imagine his surprise if I had told him that we are already married."

He pressed a kiss to her neck and pulled back so he could look into her eyes. Lee's right hand rested lightly on her hip, and his left hand reached up to cup her cheek. "Marrying you is the best choice I've ever made." He switched to his bedroom voice to say, "I propose that we go to my place and make some more good choices for the rest of the morning." The glint in his eyes and the smile on his lips were unmistakable and irresistible.

Amanda responded by letting an answering passion show in her eyes. Her husky voice said, "Love to. I'll meet you there."

After one lingering kiss and two encores, he put her in her car. He winked at her through the car window and gave her a smile full of promise, while she let her love for him fill her eyes. And the Stetsons wasted no more time leaving the airport parking lot.