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"I just have to finish my thesis. I hope to earn my doctorate here. I'm from Milwaukee, but I love Boulder." "Not as nice as Ennis, Montana," I said, "but better than East Saint Louis."That made her laugh. "You were in the marines?" she asked. "I was a lawyer," I said. "Like the lady on JAG?" "Something like that," I said. "My dad was a marine. I was born at Camp" She cut herself off when Finn appeared in the doorway. He had evidently just returned from a long run in the rain. He wore a white tank top, maroon nylon running shorts, and top-of-the-line running shoes, the kind with translucent green gel beneath the heel. He was soaking wet. "Jayne around?" he asked as he polished his glasses with a small white cloth. "No," said Mary Pat, "but she should be back any minute." He looked at me, put his glasses in place, then stepped forward and said, "I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Stephen Finn." I stood up and Mary Pat followed suit. "Stephen competes in triathlons," Mary Pat explained. "Pepper Keane," I said. We shook hands. He gave me his triath- lete grip, so I gave him my I-can-dead-lift-535-pounds grip. "What do you do, Mr. Keane?" He tried to ask it in an offhand manner, but seeing me in my client's office a second time had him burning with curiosity. "Mr. Keane is a private investigator," Mary Pat said. I was ready to thrash her, but she added, "He's helping Professor Smyers design a workshop on personal safety for women at the shelter." "A private investigator? Fascinating." He tried to sound inter- ested, but his tone was slightly condescending. He felt it wasn't an occupation for the educated. "Anyhow," he continued as he turned to Mary Pat, "I just stopped by to chat with Jayne. Will you tell her I was looking for her?"