Kate kept her eyes on her breakfast.

Howie looked from Dave to Kate, and a blush rose from his shirt collar. “Oh.”

Slik pushed away from the table. “I’ll go get the equipment.”

“Mostly photographic,” Howie explained.

Dave didn’t look happy. “I’m having a dinner party tonight—”

Howie held up a hand. “No problem. You’ll never know we’re here.”

Slik returned with a video camera, a tripod, a walkie-talkie, and two shotguns. “Nice of you to let us use your house like this. We’ll be real careful not to break anything.”

Dave finished his French toast and poured more coffee. Slik’s promise not to break anything didn’t exactly fill him with confidence. He had an unpleasant vision of his house riddled with bullet holes. “This isn’t going to get violent, is it?”

“No way. It’s a plain old stakeout,” Howie said, refilling his mug. “You mind if I take this upstairs with me?” He stopped in the hallway and called back. “What are you having for dinner?”

“Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, and pineapple upside-down cake for dessert.”

Howie thunked his head against the wall. “Oh, God, I love roast chicken, mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, and pineapple upside-down cake.”

Kate put her plate in the dishwasher, pulled a chair away from the table, and positioned her cello between her legs.

“Does the cast bother you?” Dave asked.

“Yes, but I’m ignoring it.”

He sat back with his coffee and watched her. Her hair sprang from her head in big orange curls and framed her face in unruly tendrils. Her eyes were intense as she read the music. Her mouth was mobile, reflecting the passage she played. She stopped and swore and started again. This time her mood was more reflective. She was analyzing problems. She made a mark on the page with a pencil and began again. Even Dave could hear the difference this time. She was settling in. Phase two. He was beginning to know her. When she was learning something new she thrashed around until she got a handle on it, then she mellowed out while she perfected her technique, and when she felt she’d achieved the necessary expertise, she poured energy back into it. He was more of a plodder, he decided. Maybe that was one of the reasons he found her so fascinating. She was constantly changing, varying her intensity.

Kate looked up from her music and was surprised to find him staring at her. “Are you still here?”

“I live here.”

“Yes, but don’t you have anything to do? Don’t you have to bake a cake or something?”

“I wanted to watch you for a while. You’re so beautiful when you make music.”