HARRY FLINT WALKED up to the reception desk of the Wilton Hotel. "Hello." "Hello." The clerk noticed the smile on his face. "Can I help you?" "Yes. My wife and her friend, an African-American, checked in here a little while ago. I want to go up and surprise them. What's their room number?" The clerk said, "I'm sorry. This is a hotel for women, sir. Men are not allowed upstairs. If you'd like to phone-" Flint glanced around the lobby. Unfortunately, it was crowded. "Never mind," he said. "I'm sure they'll be down soon." Flint walked outside and dialed his cell phone. "They're upstairs in their room, Mr. Kingsley. I can't go up." Tanner stood still a moment, concentrating. "Mr. Flint, logic tells me that they will decide to separate.

I'm sending Carballo over to help you.

* * *

UPSTAIRS IN THEIR suite, Kelly turned the radio on to a pop station, and the room was suddenly filled with loud rap music.

"How can you listen to that?" Diane asked irritably.

"You don't like rap music?"

"That's not music. That's noise." "You don't like Eminem? And what about LL Cool J and R. Kelly and Ludacris?" "Is that all you listen to?" "No," Kelly said tartly. "I enjoy Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique, Chopin's etudes, and Handel's Almira. I'm particularly fond of-" Kelly watched Diane walk over to the radio and turn it off. "What are we going to do when we run out of hotels, Mrs. Stevens? Do you know anyone who can help us?" Diane shook her head. "Most of Richard's friends worked at KIG, and our other friends-I can't get any of them involved in this." She looked at Kelly. "What about you?" Kelly shrugged. "Mark and I lived in Paris for the past three years. I don't know anyone here except the people at the model agency, and I have a feeling they wouldn't be a lot of help." "Did Mark say why he was going to Washington?" "No." "Neither did Richard. I have a feeling that somehow that's the key to why they were murdered." "Great. We have the key. Where's the door?" "We'll find it." Diane was thoughtful for a moment, then her face lit up. "Wait a minute! I know someone who might be able to help us." She went over to the phone.

"Who are you calling?" "Richard's secretary. She'll know what's been going on." A voice at the other end of the phone said, "KIG." "I'd like to speak to Betty Barker, please."

* * *

IN HIS OFFICE, Tanner watched the voice identification blue light flash on. He pressed a switch and heard the operator say, "Miss Barker is not at her desk right now." "Can you tell me how to reach her?" "I'm sorry. If you'll give me your name and phone number, I'll have her-" "Never mind." Diane replaced the receiver.

The blue light went out.

* * *

DIANE TURNED TO Kelly. "I have a feeling Betty Barker might be the door we're looking for.

I have to find a way to get to her." She frowned. "It's so strange." "What is?" "A fortune-teller predicted this. She told me she saw death around me, and-" Kelly exclaimed, "No! And you didn't report it to the FBI and the CIA?" Diane glared at her a moment. "Never mind." More and more, Kelly was getting on her nerves.

"Let's have dinner." Kelly said, "I have to make a call first." She picked up the telephone and dialed the hotel operator.

"I want to place a call to Paris." She gave the operator a number and waited.

After a few minutes,

Kelly's face brightened. "Hello, Philippe. How are you??Everything's fine here." She glanced over at Diane. "Yes?I should be home in a day or two?How is Angel?.

.. Oh, that's wonderful. Does she miss me??Would you put her on?" Her voice changed to the tone adults use when talking to a small child. "Angel, how are you, darling? ?It's your mama. Philippe says you miss me?I miss you, too. I'll be home soon, and I'll hold you and cuddle you, sweetheart." Diane had turned to listen, puzzled.

"Good-bye, baby. All right, Philippe?Thanks. I'll see you soon. Au revoir." Kelly saw Diane's bewildered expression. "I was talking to my dog." "Right. What did he have to say?" "She. She's a bitch." "That figures."

* * *

IT WAS TIME for dinner, but they were afraid to leave the safety of their room.

They ordered something from room service.

The talk was desultory. Diane tried to make conversation with Kelly, but it was hopeless.

"So, you've been living in Paris?"

"At."

"Yes."

"Was Mark French?"

"No."

"Were you married long?"

"No."

"How did you two meet?" None of your damned business. "I don't really remember. I've met so many men." Diane studied Kelly. "Why don't you get rid of that wall you've built around yourself?" Kelly said tightly, "Did anyone ever tell you that walls are to keep people out?" "Sometimes they keep people locked in, and-" "Look, Mrs. Stevens. Mind your own business. I was doing fine until I met you.

Let's drop it." "Right." She's the coldest person I've ever met.

* * *

WHEN THEY HAD finished a silent dinner, Kelly announced, "I'm going to take a shower." Diane did not respond.

In the bathroom, Kelly shed her clothes, stepped into the shower, and turned it on. The warm water against her nakedness felt wonderful. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift?

She could hear Sam Meadows's words. You know, Mark s madly in love with you. He wants to marry you. I hope he doesn't get hurt. And Kelly knew that Sam Meadows was right. Kelly enjoyed being with Mark. He was fun, and thoughtful, and caring, and a great friend. That was the catch. I think of him only as a friend. That's not fair to him. I must stop seeing him.

Mark had called the morning after the banquet. "Hello, Kelly. What would you like to do tonight?" Mark's voice was filled with anticipation. "Dinner and the theater? Or there are some stores open at night, and then there's-" "I'm sorry, Mark. I'm-I'm busy tonight." There was a brief silence. "Oh. I thought you and I had a-" "Well, we don't." And Kelly stood there, hating herself for what she was doing to him. It's my fault for letting it go this far.

"Oh, all right. I'll call you tomorrow."

* * *

HE CALLED THE next day. "Kelly, if I've offended you in any wayAnd Kelly had to steel herself to say, "I'm sorry, Mark. I've?I've fallen in love with someone." She waited. The long silence was unbearable.

"Oh." Mark's voice was shaky. "I understand. I-I should have realized that we?Concongratulations. I really hope you'll be happy, Kelly. Please say good-bye to Angel for me." Mark hung up. Kelly stood there, holding the dead phone in her hand, feeling miserable. He'll forget me soon, Kelly thought, and find someone who can give him the happiness he deserves.

* * *

KELLY WORKED EVERY day, smiling her way across runways and hearing the applause of the crowds, but inside she was saddened. Life was not the same without her friend. She was constantly tempted to call him, but she resisted. I can't. I've hurt him enough.

Several weeks went by, and Kelly did not hear from Mark. He's out of my life.

He's probably found someone else by now. I'm glad. And she tried to mean it.

* * *

ON A SATURDAY afternoon, Kelly was working a fashion show in an elegant room crowded with the elite of Paris. She walked out onto the runway, and as soon as she appeared, there was the usual acclaim. Kelly was following a model wearing an afternoon suit and carrying a pair of gloves. One of the gloves slipped out of her hand and dropped onto the runway. When Kelly saw it, it was too late.

She tripped on it and plummeted to the floor, falling on her face. There was a gasp from the audience. Kelly lay there, humiliated. Steeling herself not to cry, she took a deep, shuddering breath, raised herself up, and fled from the runway.

When Kelly reached the dressing room, the wardrobe mistress said, "I have the evening gown ready for you. You had better-" Kelly was sobbing. "No. I-I can't go out there in front of those people. They'll laugh at me." She was becoming hysterical. "I'm through. I'm never going to go out there again. Never!" "Of course you are." Kelly spun around. Mark was standing in the doorway. "Mark! What-what are you doing here?" "Oh, I-I've kind of been hanging around lately." "You-you saw-what happened out there?" Mark smiled. "It was wonderful. I'm glad it happened." Kelly was staring at him. "Wh-what?" He stepped close to her and took out a handkerchief to dry her tears. "Kelly, before you walked out there, the audience thought you were just a beautiful, untouchable dream, a fantasy, out of reach.

When you tripped and fell, it showed them that you're human, and they adored you for it. Now you Go back out there and make them happy." She looked into Mark's compassionate eyes, and that was the moment Kelly realized she was in love with him.

The wardrobe woman was putting the evening gown back on a clothes rack.

"Give me that," Kelly said. She looked at Mark and smiled through her tears.

Five minutes later, when Kelly confidently walked out on the runway, there was a wave of thunderous applause and a standing ovation from the audience. Kelly stood there facing them, overwhelmed by emotion.

It was so wonderful to have Mark in her life again. She remembered how nervous she had been in the beginning?

* * *

KELLY HAD BEEN tense, waiting for Mark to make a pass at her, but he was always the perfect gentleman. His shyness made her feel more confident. It was Kelly who began most of the conversations, and no matter what the subject was, she found that Mark was knowledgeable and amusing.

One evening, Kelly said, "Mark, there's a great symphony orchestra opening tomorrow night. Do you like classical music?" He nodded. "I grew up with it." "Good. We'll go."

* * *

THE CONCERT WAS brilliant, and the audience enthusiastic.

On the way back to Kelly's apartment, Mark said, "Kelly, I-I lied to you." I should have known, Kelly thought. He's just like the rest of them. It's over.

She steeled herself for his answer. "Did you?" "Yes. I-I don't really like classical music." Kelly bit her lip to keep from bursting out laughing.

On their next date, Kelly said, "I want to thank you for Angel. She's great company." And so are you, Kelly thought. Mark had the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen, and an endearing, crooked, little smile. She enjoyed his company tremendously and?

* * *

THE WATER WAS getting cold. Kelly turned off the shower, toweled herself off, put on the hotel's terry cloth robe, and went into the bedroom.

"It s all yours."

"Thanks." Diane got up and stepped into the bathroom. It looked like a storm had struck.

Water had spilled onto the floor, and towels were strewn all over the floor.

Angrily, Diane walked back into the bedroom. "The bathroom is a mess. Are you used to having people pick up after you?" Kelly smiled sweetly. "Yes, Mrs. Stevens. As a matter of fact, I grew up with a lot of maids taking care of me." "Well, I'm not one of them." You wouldn't qualify.

Diane took a deep breath. "I think it would be better if we-" "There's no 'we,' Mrs. Stevens. There's you and there's me." They stared at each other for a long moment. Then, without another word, Diane turned and went back into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, when she emerged, Kelly was in bed. Diane reached for the switch to turn off the overhead light.

"No, don't touch that!" It was a scream.

Diane looked at Kelly, startled. "What?" "Leave the lights on." Diane asked scornfully, "Are you afraid of the dark?" "Yes. I'm-I'm afraid of the dark." Diane said patronizingly, "Why? Did your parents tell you scary bogeyman stories when you were a little girl?" There was a long silence. "That's it." Diane went to her own bed. She lay there for a minute, then closed her eyes.

Richard, darling, I never believed that someone could die of a broken heart. I believe it now. I need you so much. I need you to guide me. I need your warmth and your love. You're here somewhere, I know you are. I can feel you. You 're a gift that God loaned me, but not for long enough. Good night, my guardian angel.

Please don't ever leave me. Please.

In her bed, Kelly could hear Diane quietly sobbing. Kelly's lips tightened. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

And tears began to roll down her cheeks.