"Gee, Mr. Carmel, I didn't mean to…" She blinked her eyes sadly.

Carmel felt sudden pangs of guilt. For Christ's sake, pull yourself together! No reason to jump all over this nice, lovely girl… My problems don't have anything to do with her, and she's only trying to do her job. Roger had no way of knowing that her attitude and his reaction was exactly that – part of her job, the job that she was doing for Zeigler. He said in a contrite voice, "I'm sorry, Miss… ah."

"Copeland," she replied eagerly and stepped into his office. "Everybody calls me Kim, though. That's short for Kimberly."

Carmel managed to smile. "All right, Kim, what can I do for you?"

Hooked. The sucker is as gaffed as a salmon… "I came to tell you that your friend, Mr. Oliss, has already left the plant. He asked me to tell you that he won't be able to see you this afternoon." True enough… after I called that silly fool and told him Carmel was unable to meet with him. Kim rubbed her hands nervously. "I… I could have called you on the intercom to tell you but, well…" She lowered her eyes, as if afraid to continue.

Now I've frightened the wits out of her. Look at her shake! "Come on, Kim," Roger said softly. "But what? Don't worry, I won't bite."

"It was just that… that my car broke down, and… and if, if you were going to your motel in a little while…" She let the suggestion dangle.

"You want a ride home, is that it?"

"Oh, could you, Mr. Carmel? I'd be so grateful. It isn't far from the El Mecca, and otherwise, I'd have to take a taxi, and they're so expensive, and…"

Roger held up his hand, cutting off her explanations. "Of course I can, Kim. I'd be glad to." Least I call do to make up for the bastard way I first treated her. "Let's see," he said, "It's nearly eleven-thirty now. Do you get off at twelve?"