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nodded. “I’m glad I decided not to end the pregnancy…” She almost bit her tongue off. She grabbed the phone and pushed in numbers. “I forgot to make your lunch reservations!”
    Which she never did, considering it a menial chore. Buthe didn’t mention that. He’d upset her by asking personal questions. It hadn’t been intentional. He wondered about her private life, about the child.
    While she was talking, he went back into his office. He’d meant to apologize to her for Cammy’s rudeness, which he was certain that she’d overheard. Then he’d been distracted by the photo of her child. She had thought of ending her pregnancy. Why? She seemed very maternal and conscientious to him, but perhaps she’d never wanted to be pregnant. Accidents did happen. It was just that his clearheaded administrative assistant didn’t seem the sort to have amorous accidents, of any type. In the past four years, he didn’t recall seeing her date anyone at all.
    He sat down behind his desk and recalled her pregnancy. The Bureau didn’t discriminate, although her condition hadn’t gone down well with some people. But she’d been very quiet, very discreet, during the time she carried the child.
    She’d almost died having the child, he recalled. It had disturbed him when he got his first look at her afterward. She’d been pale, listless, devastated by the ordeal.
    He’d put that reaction down to pain and drugs following the caesarian section, but now he wondered even more about her history, about the shadowy father of her child.
    The phone rang. He picked it up.
    â€œIt’s Sergeant Marquez,” Joceline said formally and put him through.
    â€œMarquez,” Jon said. “What are you up to?”
    â€œIf you’re going to mention my run-in with the computer thief, don’t you dare,” came the dry reply. “I’ve already been the subject of extreme censure from everybody up to and including the mayor.”
    â€œReally? Perhaps they had a glimpse of you running nude down the street and were impressed.”
    â€œGet a life, Blackhawk, you’re just jealous of the attention I got,” Marquez scoffed. “I’ll bet if you ran nude down a street, nobody would even notice you!”
    Jon laughed uproariously. “We’ll never know.”
    â€œAnyway, what I called to tell you is that Harold Monroe beat the human trafficking charges with a hotshot public defender and got cut loose after the parents suddenly refused to testify,” he said. “I know the D.A.’s office probably notified you, but sometimes they’re slow. I wanted to make sure you knew.”
    â€œYou’re not the first person to tell me. The guy’s a total loon and incompetent at that. He can’t walk and chew gum at the same time.”
    â€œEven people who fumble can perform amazing feats,” Marquez said. “You watch your back.”
    â€œI’ll paint a target on it, so Monroe won’t have so much trouble finding me.” Jon chuckled. “Thanks for the concern, though. I appreciate it.”
    â€œNo problem. You still following soccer?”
    â€œNot so much. My video game is taking over my life.”
    â€œI heard.” There was a pause. “You helped a tenth-level warrior get a bag to carry his loot in, over in the Barrens.”
    Jon’s eyes popped. “Yes.”
    â€œIt was one of my alts,” Marquez chuckled. “See? You never know who you’re playing with.”
    â€œWhich reminds me, did you know that my brother’s brother-in-law plays, too? He’s got an 80 death knight.” He gave the name.
    â€œGood grief, he fought the Horde with me in Darkshore a few months ago on the pier, before it was destroyed when the expansion came out!”
    â€œHe’s formidable.”
    â€œI’ll say, he saved my butt. You just never know, do