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before she and Marcus continued on. After a moment of silence, Maggie spoke. “So why aren’t you a cop anymore?”
    A dark alleyway, a scream, the blood, the tears —the memories came rushing back and swirled through his mind like a tornado that leaves a house standing but uninhabitable. What business is it of hers? Why don’t you ask about how my parents died, or maybe if I had a dog that was ran over when I was a kid?
    But she doesn’t know it’s a painful memory. She’s just trying to get to know you better, idiot. Maybe because she likes you, but now she probably thinks you’re some kind of burned-out psycho, since you’re taking an hour to respond to a simple question.
    “Well…”
    What do I tell her?
    “I think that’s a question we should save for at least our second or third date.”
    “How do you know there’ll even be a second or third date?”
    “Because you wanna learn all my secrets.”
    She smiled. As he looked into her eyes, his painful memories slipped to the back of his mind and away from his immediate thoughts. For now, the pain had subsided. For now, his demons were sleeping.
    “Thanks for walking with me,” she said. “You’re really a nice guy.”
    He grimaced. “The kiss of death.”
    She gave him a confused look.
    “Nice guys get calls for advice on how to handle bad-boy boyfriends. They drive you to the airport and help you move. Nice guys finish last. And…I’m not all that nice.”
    “I disagree. I think that you are a nice guy, and I also think that you haven’t been hanging around with the right kind of women. I happen to like nice guys.”
    Their eyes met, and he felt a warmth in her gaze that made his heart race and his mind reel with possibilities. They held the connection for a few seconds. When her cheeks began to turn red, she looked away.
    The warm smell of cinnamon rolls straight from the oven made his stomach rumble. The lights were on in the bakery. Maggie was so caught up in the moment that she almost passed by the entrance to her apartment, a small place above The Magnolia Bakery. He remembered a place with the same name on Bleecker Street back in New York. He had loved their red velvet cupcakes.
    She stopped and removed a key from her purse. She hesitated, giving him the impression that she was waiting for him to make a move.
    It had been a long time since he had done anything like this. “Dinner…tomorrow night?”
    Maggie reached into her purse and produced a small pad of paper and pen. She jotted down her number and handed it to him. “Give me a call tomorrow.”
    He took the piece of paper, folded it with care, and placed it in his pocket.
    They stared at each other for a moment.
    He leaned in.
    She closed her eyes and appeared to be awaiting his lips.
    He touched her on the shoulder, but instead of kissing her, he whispered in her ear. “I don’t kiss on the first date.”
    Her eyes opened and narrowed at him. “You’re an odd man.”
    He smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    ~~*~~
    “Are you sure that we’re doing the right thing?” the big man said as he thrummed his fingers upon the antique desk.
    The smaller man chuckled. He stepped away from the window that overlooked the estate’s lush veranda and took a seat behind his ornate walnut desk. “I find that the older I get, the less I’m sure about anything.”
    The big man smiled at his long-time friend, a man known as The Director. “I know what you mean, but I’m starting to have my doubts about this plan. There are a million things that could go wrong.”
    “There are a million things that could go right as well. Such is the way of life.”
    “I know that, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’re taking unnecessary risks. We’re putting a lot of good people in danger, and this thing could get very messy. Do the ends really justify the means?”
    “Do they ever?”
    The big man ran a hand through his gray-white hair. His compatriot broke the silence first. “I