directions, and only a small circle of friends would be exposed to the sequel."
She did not confirm this, but instead asked, "And why would I care about that?"
"You want me to assume it's because you're motivated by higher sensibilities. A West Pointer, that duty, honor, country thing." I looked her in the eye and said truthfully, "In fact, I believe you are motivated by these factors."
"But you think there are other motives, too. Right?"
Right. I looked at her. "If we're going to be working together, I'd like to know about them."
"You don't trust me?"
I did not, but there was no point in saying that. Instead, I said, "We could find things that will be very embarrassing and possibly very damaging for your bosses. I'd like to know where you stand, how you're going to react."
"You've read too much into this." She looked at me and said, "I think you're very clever, very observant, and you seem to have a firm grasp of investigations. I want to solve this, and you'll make a good partner. That's the professional reason." After another moment, she added, "And maybe I like you. Perhaps this is cliched . . . you remind me of somebody."
"You're right. It's cliched."
"And true. My fiance. He's in Iraq, a major with the First Armored Division." She examined me a moment with those warm eyes. "You don't look alike, but you share so many quirks and mannerisms. It's almost uncanny."
It did not escape my notice that she had changed the subject, but this sounded more interesting and certainly more pleasant than the topic of murder. "Such as?"
"Mark . . . that's his name . . . Mark has a certain swagger, a way of moving. Sexy. Self-assured. And you both have this unnerving habit of shoving people around when you think you're right and they're in your way."
"And you're engaged to this guy?"
"He has some rough edges." She laughed. "I'll fix him after we're married."
That's what I love about women.
She looked at me. "Also like you, he doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut, he has no sense of self-preservation, and--"
"Excuse me--weren't we talking about a crime reconstruction?"
She smiled, sort of.
Back to the matter of how Daniels died, I said, "Fact two. The man was dead on his own bed with the gun in his hand."
"Yes. Why?"
"He either put it there himself, or it was placed there. If you're building a mental flowchart, this one's fifty-fifty."
"All right. Fact three. He was naked with a hard-on. What do you deduce from that?"
I stared at her.
She asked, "Should I rephrase that?"
"Too late." I suggested to her, "The most innocent explanation is that he was enjoying a moment of sexual solitude before he killed himself. We already discussed this."
She did not ask me to review that discussion, but instead wisely suggested, "But there are also less innocent explanations, right?"
"Apparently. He had company, and the company did not behave the way he anticipated."
"Female company."
"Well . . . don't discount the possibility that Mr. Daniels's taste ran the other way, or that he was a switch-hitter. But we'll work with that assumption until we know otherwise." I said, "And here's where it gets interesting. Why would he have a dirty video in the machine?"
"You tell me."
"This is beyond my experience or imagination."
"And you think I know something about this?"
I smiled.
She smiled back, a little coolly. She decided to be a good sport, though, and said, "All right, I'll take a stab. Some people use pornographic images to create a romantic or sensual mood, a prelude or warm-up before they get into the real article. In fact, it's not unhealthy . . . not even aberrant. A lot of sexual therapists actually recommend it." She looked at me and noted, "Also, the video wasn't necessarily his idea--maybe it was hers."
"Okay, his or hers. That's still a little hard to explain to a first date. Some women or men might find it a little bizarre and respond negatively."
"Yes, I think that would be a little awkward."
"So this suggests somebody he knew fairly well. This wasn't the first time they were together, was it?" She nodded, and I continued, "So that's where we start: a woman, someone he had already . . . somebody he already had intimate relations with."
"That was nicely put."
"I'm working on cleaning up my act."
"Keep working on it."
"Good point. Bear in mind, though, it's still possible a person he did not know entered the apartment, Cliff was asleep, they blew out his brains