"Yeah. It's me. I told you I'd meet you here."

"Yes, but I didn't expect you to open the door for me. Where's your uniform?"

"I made detective. Midtown North."

"Congratulations."

"It never hurts to have an old man who's an ex-cop."

"He retired?"

For an instant he was surprised she didn't know. But then, how could she?

"He had a couple of heart attacks. He gets chest pains walking across the living room, but he won't agree to a bypass."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Sorry. Here they were talking about his father when Kelly…

"And I'm sorry about Kelly. It's… it's tragic."

Rob watched her throat work as she nodded.

"Yes." It was barely a whisper. "Which way is…?"

"I'll take you."

He guided her toward the elevators. He could feel the tension in her, could almost feel her body trying to run away. He'd told her yesterday that this trip was unnecessary, but she'd insisted. Same old Kara. Stubborn as ever. He looked at her grim, frightened face and decided he had to give her one more chance to back out of this. As they stepped out of the elevator into the hallway of the bottom floor, the City Morgue floor, he took her arm.

▼

"You don't have to do this."

Kara stared at Rob. He had changed considerably since she'd last seen him a decade ago. His mustache was gone, but that was minor. He was slightly heavier, and he looked older, but his face wasn't aged so much as lined. He looked worn. Like someone steering along the edge of burn-out. Maybe that was what a dozen years as a New York City cop did to you. At least that was what it seemed to have done to Rob.

But his brown eyes were still bright and clear, and even here in the City Morgue he still exuded the same physical presence that had attracted her way back when.