"Hi," said the young man, handing her a card. "My name is Rodney Foster and this is my wife Tanya. I'm a freelance writer working on a story and I was told you could help me."

Liz stood there, eyeing the visitors with hostility. Just what she needed, more curious, gawking, finger-pointers.

"Now, who could have told you that?" Liz said with palpable sarcasm.

Rodney smiled and said, "It was DesirЋe Denning. She said you wouldn't mind."

The blonde softened and let a wisp of a smile drift across her lips. "DesirЋe's a dear friend. Please come in." And Liz stood aside for them.

Once inside, Tanya and Rodney sat down while their hostess obligingly made them some coffee. When she returned, they spent a while talking about DesirЋe.

"I haven't seen her since the wedding," Liz mentioned. "She used to come here quite often, but it seems that marriage has changed her situation." The older woman thought back on that day. DesirЋe had been strangely cold toward her and at the time Liz had felt that her invitation to the wedding had come only as a formality. She had no idea that the young, beautiful bride resented her for what she had experienced with the wild canine Lobo just a few nights after the last time she had visited this house here, and again a month later after her dream honeymoon in the Caribbean. They were things that Liz would never know as long as DesirЋe had a mouth to keep very tightly shut.

But still, Liz talked fondly of her young friend, about her musical talent, her lovely singing voice, her quick and lively mind, and usual sense of humor.

"Which she seems to have lost of late," commented Tanya, lighting a cigarette offered to her by her hostess. "Dezzy's been a bit melancholy this last week, and not her usual jocular self."