Now Ms. Estavez looked at me with open hostility. She didn’t say anything.

“I guess my question is, if the harassment proceedings are confidential, how did the name of the defendant get to be public knowledge?”

She abruptly stood up. “This discussion is over,” she said.

I decided not to paste Ms. Estavez in the face, but to retreat as gracefully as I could. I stood up and offered her my hand across the desk, as I said, “Thank you very much for your time, Ms. Estavez. You’ve been very helpful.”

At first I thought she wasn’t going to shake hands with me, but I kept my hand out and kept a smile on my face. She resisted for a few seconds, but then she quickly shook my hand, sat down and started fiddling with some papers on her desk.

Feeling the thrill of a minor victory, I walked out the door and back down the hall to the reception area. There, standing at the counter and chatting with the receptionist, was Mark’s accuser. Like the first time I saw her, I didn’t have any doubt about her identity. She glanced at me without interest, but I took a good look at her.

Close up, she was striking. The vivid contrast between her dark hair, dark eyes and white face was enough to turn any man’s head. A touch of red on her lips added just enough color to the picture. I was sure she wasn’t wearing any other makeup. She had unzipped her synthetic jacket and I got a hint of a shapely body underneath, but I couldn’t tell specifics because of the bulkiness of the sweater she wore. However, her jeans were tight and skinny.

I had a sudden urge to ask her why she wanted to destroy Mark’s life. I hesitated in front of her. She looked at me again and it occurred to me that speaking to her here would blow any chance Mark had for redemption. But I almost couldn’t resist. I had to physically shake myself into moving again.