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find a reason, Sarah. You have to decide."
    She stepped back, turning to gather the enlargements she'd just made on the copier. Lately, Sam's ancient Xerox was really getting a workout.
    Hal took the top sheet from her. "This where you're looking?" He traced a finger along the ridgeline between the mountain summit and the Upper Falls. "Rugged territory—especially after the freeze-thaw cycle this spring. Been a couple rockslides off the eastern face near Snakebelly and the Devil's Elbow."
    The Devil's Elbow was where the river and the mountain gorge took a sharp ninety-degree turn then dropped precipitously, creating the Upper Falls. Several deep crevasses broke through the gorge wall near there, including the infamous Snakebelly—so named because it was the river's graveyard. Any large pieces of flotsam from upstream would invariably get caught in the current and directed into the chasm, usually undetected until a rockslide or avalanche loosened the debris and freed what lay hidden beneath.
    "I'll be fine. I've climbed around there all my life."
    Hal nodded, his gaze still following his finger as it traced the closely stacked lines on the topo map. "Maybe you shouldn't go alone. Why don't you ask Alan to go with you?"
    Sarah snatched the map away from him, began folding it, her fingers mercilessly pressing creases into the paper. "Hal Waverly, are you trying to play matchmaker? I thought you of all people would understand."
    "The man's crazy about you, Sarah. Any fool can see that. Giving up his practice in the city to move up here—"
    "It was only because of the case, Damian Wright. Alan was trying to set a precedent for victims' rights with my appeals. It had nothing to do with me."
    "Oh really? Then why is he still here? Hanging around like a kid too shy to ask a girl to dance."
    She waved her hand to shut him up. He ignored her, propping his butt on the desk's rim. "He seems good for you. When you're around him, you seem, well, happy."
    "Hal. Please. You make me sound like I'm some weepy widow trailing around in black veils. It's been a rough two years, but I'm doing all right."
    "You are. And I think Alan has something to do with that. He's not the only one who wants to see you happy, Sarah. I heard the Colonel asking him his intentions."
    She straightened and pivoted, the blood rushing to her face in embarrassment. "He has no right—it's my life and I'll live it the way I want!"
    "That's the point, isn't it?" Hal gave her a half-smile. "Sarah, you didn't die on that mountain. Don't waste your life just because some madman killed Josh and Sam."
    If anyone else had spoken those words to Sarah she would have snapped, exploded in rage and ordered them from her house. But this wasn't anyone. This was Hal who said what Sarah knew in her heart was the truth.
    Hal had already faced that truth after his wife died. Only it wasn't a truth she was prepared to face. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
    "I need a little more time," she said, shoving the map into the pocket of her Gortex jacket. "If Alan understands, he'll wait." She finally raised her head, met his gaze. "Just a little longer."
    "Sarah, you got to tell him how you feel one way or the other, put the poor guy out of his misery at least." He reached for her hand once more. "Hey, I know how he feels—remember the senior prom? Took me forever to work up the courage to ask you and by then it was too late. You went with Tommy Hopkins instead."
    "All right, you made your point. Now don't you have some crooks to lock up or something?"
    "Just finished a twelve, I'm not officially back on the clock until tomorrow morning. Of course," he gestured to the cell phone, pager and radio weighing down his belt, "that doesn't mean they won't call me back sooner." He blew out his breath. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. New wrinkles lined his face and his jaw muscle kept twitching. "Guess I should go home, get myself some rest."
    Sounded like a good idea. He appeared close to exhaustion or a