"LT?"

"Mmm?" She acknowledged Sykes, one of the negotiators in her unit, without looking up.

"Guy out here wants to see you. Duncan Swift."

"Hmm?" This time she looked up with a frown. She looked through the window of her office, saw Duncan studying the squad room as if it were a foreign planet.

She thought of her workload, of the time crunch, and nearly passed him off. Then his gaze shifted, met hers. And he smiled.

"Ah well." She pushed up from her desk, stepped out to the doorway of her office. "Mr. Swift?"

He had a damn effective smile, she decided. Something about it said it was easy and often used. And his eyes, soft and dusky blue, looked right at you. In her experience a lot of people weren't comfortable making that solid eye contact. But this man let you know he wasn't just looking at you, he was thinking about you while he did.

"You're busy. You look busy," he said when he reached her. "You want me to come back when you're not?"

"If what you came by for can wait about a decade, that's fine."

"I'd rather it didn't."

"Then come on in."

"Wow. It's sort of like on TV, but not exactly. Do you get weirded out sitting here where everybody can see what you're doing all day?"

"If I do, I can always pull the blinds."

He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of worn jeans. There were long legs in those jeans, she noted.

"Bet you hardly ever do."

"I spoke with the attorney you hired on Joe's behalf. He seems very competent."

"And then some. So… I wanted to ask you if I should visit Suicide Joe-"

"Excuse me? Suicide Joe?"

"Sorry, we got to calling him that last night. It stuck in my head. Should I visit him, or is it better for him if I step back?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. It's not like we were pals or anything. But yesterday's loop keeps running through my head."