He liked shaking her composure every once in a while. It made her more accessible, less driven. Her music was wonderful and special, but Kate needed a little diversity. He watched her return to the yogurt and wondered if that was her supper.

“I have some steaks next door. I could put them on the grill.”

“Can’t. I work with a youth orchestra on Monday nights. Sectional coach.” She washed the yogurt down with a glass of springwater and grabbed a banana. “I’m supposed to be there at seven.” She looked at her watch and groaned.

“Is it very far?”

“No. I’ll make it.” She shoved a packet of music into her purse and pulled a hooded sweatshirt over her head. “I have to buy a coat. Maybe Saturday.”

She hadn’t directed the last two sentences to Dave. She’d been thinking aloud. Talking to herself again. Her mind was already jumping ahead to the evening’s rehearsal. They’d be playing Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony (Pastorale). Working on the last two movements…

Suddenly she was whirled around and pulled against the wall of Dave’s chest with enough force to take her breath away. Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments, long enough to make her heart race. Long enough for her to see the anger, the determination, the frustration. She expected words, but instead she got a kiss. A kiss that was almost violent in its intensity.

He released her, wondered how his heart was standing the strain, and bent to retrieve the purse she’d dropped on the floor.

Kate reluctantly opened her eyes; her lips felt exquisitely swollen. “Of course, I could always stay home…”

Dave hung the black bag on her shoulder and opened the front door. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from your obligations. Just making sure you’d remember me.”

At 2 A.M. Dave was awakened by the deep thwup, thwup, thwup of a helicopter flying low over the neighborhood. When it buzzed his house for the third time, he slid out of bed, crept across the dark room, and silently stood at his window, watching the blinking lights move across the sky. The helicopter returned to A Street, hovered for a full minute while it beamed light down on rooftops and yards, then peeled away. The thwup, thwup thwup faded in the distance, but Dave remained at the window.

Kate had heard it, too. At least the roof is fixed, she’d thought. It still needed to be tarred, but it was patched over and she didn’t feel quite so vulnerable. Not that she expected someone to drop through the roof SWAT style, but after the past two days, anything was possible. She’d gone to the window, just as Dave had, and when the noise was no more than a faraway hum, Kate took stock of her neighborhood by moonlight.