The desk sergeant offered up a sappy grin as he bellowed to someone named Simmons and instructed him to fetch Jane Doe to the visiting area. He then looked down at Lizzie, and said, "You know the drill, Counselor, leave your handbag, your cell phone, your keys in this basket. They'll check your briefcase when you go through security." He looked over at Ted, and said, "If you're not a lawyer, take a seat over there."

Lizzie nodded to Ted as she dropped her belongings into a tattered wicker basket and followed an officer with a Michelin Man waistline as he waddled down the hall and around a corner, where he picked up a phone and spoke into it.

"You can sit over there," Simmons told her, motioning to a grungy steel table that was bolted to the floor with an equally secured bench on either side of it.

The benches were stainless steel like the table but a deadly shade of pea green. Lizzie felt nauseated when she sat down and opened her briefcase. She had no clue what she would do if the Jane Doe she was about to meet wasn't Marble Rose Barnes.

The door opened, and a young woman who looked to be about thirty walked over to the table and sat down. Lizzie studied the woman for a full minute, taking in pale blond hair that the lawyer guessed was normally lustrous. Right now it was stringy and in need of styling. Her eyes were clear blue and intense. She looked to weigh about 120 pounds. She was dressed in an outfit that resembled hospital scrubs.

Lizzie held out her hand. "My name is Elizabeth Fox. I'm an attorney. I'm here to represent you if you want. By the way, they have you listed as Jane Doe. Is your real name Marble Rose Barnes?"

"You look familiar. Do I know you?" the young woman asked, avoiding the question as to her identity.

"I don't think so. I live in Washington, D.C. Are you Marble Rose Barnes?"

The young woman still didn't answer the question. Instead, she asked a question of her own. "Who sent you here?"

"A Ms. Beatrice Preston contacted. . .some people I work for. I met with Ms. Preston last evening but did not commit one way or the other as to representation. I told her I had to speak with you first, and the decision would be yours. This might be a silly question, but why haven't you engaged the services of an attorney?"

The blue eyes sparked. "Because I'm safer in here as Jane Doe than I am on the outside. Go back and tell Ms. Preston I don't need her help. Tell her I can pay an attorney on my own. You can also tell her to stay out of my life."