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women here at the DIPPeR. When Duncan turns on the charm, he’s hard to resist. The problem is he tends to have a pretty short attention span, especially if a new prospect presents itself. I was pleasantly surprised that he and Hilary were together so long.”
    “I see.” Changing the subject, the detective asked, “Ms. Donati, you mentioned yesterday that Hilary took a lot of photographs. Only buildings and monuments, or people too?”
    “Sure. Sometimes.”
    “Did she post her pictures on social media?”
    “Mmm… Sometimes, she’d post a particularly good picture to her friends or special groups on social networks. She uploaded most of her pics to cloud storage for backup.”
    “Do you know who else had access to her pictures?”
    “Well, on cloud storage, you can share files or folders with anyone you want. She shared some of her folders with me, for example, when we went on photography outings together. I suppose it’s possible that she shared folders with other people, too – I don’t know for sure.”
    I waited for the detective to frame his next question. In the ensuing silence, my stomach decided to remind me that I hadn’t eaten since my cookies and coke breakfast. Judging by the detective’s failed attempt to stifle that dazzling smile, he heard it too.
    Detective Saks looked at his watch. “This seems like a good time to take a break. Have you eaten yet? Care to join me for a quick bite?”
    Tongue-tied, all I managed to say was, “Sure.”
    He motioned to the door, “After you, Ms. Donati.”
    “Actually, I prefer to be called Adina. Thank you.”
    “OK, Adina. We can dispense with the formalities, at least over lunch. Feel free to call me Jonathan.”
    We chatted as we walked to the sandwich shop on the corner.
    “Adina Donati – that’s an unusual name. Italian?”
    “Sort of. My father’s side of the family originated in Italy. The name Adina has roots in several languages, not all that uncommon in Italian or Spanish names. My mom liked it because it means ‘gentle’ or ‘delicate’ in Hebrew, and she wanted me to have a Hebrew name.”
    Jonathan looked puzzled, so I added, “Mom is Jewish, Dad is Italian-American.”
    “Ahh. Do you speak Hebrew, or Italian for that matter?”
    “Both – as well as French and Spanish…” I wanted to kick myself. Why did I say that? I hate when people boast. So not the impression I wanted to make. Hoping to tone it down, I added, “I really like learning languages.”
    “That’s impressive. I can claim competency in only one language – English. I studied Hebrew for my Bar Mitzvah. But I can’t speak a word.”
    Nice Jewish boy. Not a big surprise, considering his name. My mother would approve.
    When it was my turn in line, I ordered and paid for a sandwich and a Diet Coke. He got his food, and we took our trays to a small table.
    “So, Adina, what brought you to D.C.?”
    Two ways to answer this question. Long version or short version. I went with the latter. “I came to D.C. for its international flavor. I had hoped to find a job where I could use my language skills. Turns out there are lots of multi-lingual people here. And not so many jobs. My job at the DIPPeR isn’t what I was hoping for, but it does pay the bills.”
    “How about you, why D.C.? Not enough crime in New York?” My lame attempt at levity elicited a stifled smile.
    “After college, I spent six years at NYPD. After making detective, I got word of an opening in D.C. on the homicide squad. I plan to get an MA in Criminology, and Georgetown has a great program. So it was an easy choice. Work in D.C. and study part-time.”
    “How long have you been here?”
    “Almost three months. Still getting my footing, so to speak,” he replied.
    “It’s a cool city for the most part, especially for young people. There are lots of interesting people, museums, and pubs. Plenty to do, if you have the time to do it.”
    “For sure, but it takes time to get used to all the