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answering with hello years ago. It seemed all her regular customers, various landlords, cops and whatnot, assumed her home number was a business number, too.
    â€œHey, Alex, it’s Rich.”
    Henson. What did he want? Guilt pinged her. She didn’t actually mind hearing from him, but she’d learned from experience that maintaining frequent contact proved nothing more than a segue to let’s try again. She pulled the lapels of her robe together, suddenly self-conscious that she was naked under this robe. Was that dumb or what? After three months you would think she’d have her head straight about this guy. He wanted commitment and shedidn’t…but he’d made her wonder what if? No other man had ever managed to do that. Everything had been fine until today.
    â€œWhat’s up?” She was careful to keep her tone light, but clearly disinterested in anything other than straightforward conversation. She mentally weighed the pros and cons of having another beer. Three was usually her limit, but this night had the definite makings of a six-packer.
    â€œI just wanted to call and thank you for alerting me to that piece of evidence you found this afternoon.”
    She hesitated at the fridge and her forehead pinched with a frown. Was this call really about business? “The contact lens?” Okay, so maybe they could have a chat without the inevitable invitation to pick up where they left off.
    â€œApparently it’s some sort of computer chip. I’m on my way over to Morningside to pick it up from that whiz kid I told you about. He’s done some quick unofficial analysis for me before. I wanted to be sure this was something worth using taxpayers’ dollars to analyze. I’ll be taking it straight to the state lab tomorrow, but you know how slow they are to respond. This kind of heads-up will get the ball rolling. Outstanding call, Alex.”
    â€œThat’s great.” She didn’t know why it mattered or what exactly his obvious excitement meant, but she was glad Henson was happy about it. The moment gave her hope that maybe they could actually be just friends.
    â€œAnyway,” he went on, his enthusiasm palpable, “I thought maybe you’d let me take you to dinner on Friday night to repay the good deed.”
    Oh, man. There it was. Her hopes deflated. The man would never give up.
    â€œI’d love to, Henson, but unfortunately I already have plans for Friday night.” It was true. She’d promised to go to a movie with Shannon; the woman swore if she didn’t have ladies’ night out once a month she’d go mad. Alex felt reasonably certain she wasn’t exaggerating.
    â€œAnother time maybe,” he said.
    She nodded, to convince herself evidently since he couldn’t see her. “Another time…maybe.” She hated constantly turning him down. He really was a nice guy. She didn’t get why he didn’t just give up. He deserved someone who wanted the same sort of commitments he did. She was not that girl.
    â€œWell, look. I’m getting another call. ’Night, Alex.”
    â€œG’night, Henson.”
    As she hung up the phone she couldn’t have guessed in a million years that it would be the last time she would talk to Detective Rich Henson.

CHAPTER 3
    The offices of Never Happened sat way, way, way off Ocean Boulevard. Not a bad location but a bit off the beaten path, nestled between the office of Dr. Sherman Holloway, psychologist extraordinaire, and Patsy’s Clip Joint, a pet salon. Things could get a little noisy at times, otherwise the folks on either side of Alex’s offices were pretty easy to get along with.
    There was, however, the perpetual parking problem. The alley between Never Happened and Patsy’s was supposed to be shared space, except her clients weren’t always so considerate. Especially the ones with the big, luxury automobiles and the small, prissy dogs.
    Alex