Chapter 10: Save the Last Dance
National Museum of Natural History
Sunday, 13 June
3:30 p.m.
"Sorry Myles couldn't come with us," Tara said as they wandered through the geology exhibit.
Elizabeth laughed. "Is that apology directed at me, or at Bobby?" She glanced back at the Aussie, who'd been about five steps behind them all the way through the museum.
"Avoid girl talk whenever I can," Bobby replied good-naturedly. "Besides, I can get lost in here. Always something I missed the last time."
"Oooh," Tara crooned as they approached the central display of the exhibit. "Now there's a solitaire for you."
Elizabeth laughed merrily. "Gee, you think we could find a ring setting for it?"
On the stand in front of them, highlighted against black velvet and set in a spotlight, was the Hope Diamond, an exquisite 45-carat blue stone. Roughly an inch in diameter, it shone from the center of an elegant diamond necklace.
Bobby draped an arm around each of them. "Y'know," he whispered with a grin, "I think we probably could get through their security here, but I think the setting alone would break even Myles' bank account."
Tara elbowed him, smiling. "Thought you were avoiding the girl talk."
"I got lonesome."
They all laughed at that, and Elizabeth looked over at them. "Guys, thanks for this. I needed it. It's too bad Myles had to work. What's Mr. Garrett got him doing, anyway, if I may ask?"
Bobby shrugged. "We had a case we were working on before this one started. Company in Arlington doing some illegals in the EPA realm. A lot of paperwork to go through. Happens too often."
Tara rolled her eyes at the ceiling. "Way too often. Did you know that, as a whole organization, the Bureau has more than four hundred open cases at any given time that are environmentally-related? And about half of those are Clean Water Act violations."
Elizabeth raised her brows. "Wow. I never thought of that. I figured the Environmental Protection Agency had their own enforcement…uh, team, I guess."
"Nope," Bobby replied. "We get it all, or the priority stuff anyway. So Myles is up to his eyes in reports right now. Poor guy. This is looking to be worse than the AltaTech mess."
They wandered around for another hour or so, enjoying the atmosphere no place in the world could create quite like the Smithsonian Institute.
They were headed for Bobby's car when the Aussie's cell phone rang.
"Manning," he said. "Oh, hey Myles. Hmm? Yeah, we're just headed back to your place now. I'll ask her." He turned to Elizabeth. "Did you pack whatever you had planned to wear to the embassy dinner when we brought you over to Myles' house?"
She shook her head. "No. It didn't seem practical. Either everything would be over and I'd be back at my place anyway, or we wouldn't be going. It's still at my house."
Bobby put the phone to his ear again. "It's still at her place, mate. Sure, we'll swing by on our way back. See you in a few." He hung up and turned to the ladies again. "Small detour."
Elizabeth was eyeing him suspiciously. "What are you two up to?"
He raised a brow at her. "What makes you think we're 'up' to anything? It was a simple request."
"Right," she replied. "A simple request. 'Oh, by the way, could you stop on your way back to the safehouse and pick up a party dress from a house that is undoubtedly being watched by a demented serial killer?' You, and my sweet but devious steady, are plotting something."
Tara smiled and put her arm around Elizabeth's shoulders. "You just worry about knocking those ten-dollar socks off of him tonight. The rest will take care of itself."
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Dillingham Home, Georgetown
5pm
"Stay here." Bobby stepped into the house slowly, checking the entryway and the surrounding area. "Liz, where's your bedroom?"
"At the end of the hall upstairs."
"All right." He leveled a finger at both ladies. "I mean it— you sheilas stay right here with that door open so SOG can see you. If you hear anything unusual, you go get them." The Aussie eyed Tara for a minute. "Tara, if I see you behind me at any point, D will hang you out to dry as soon as I can talk to him. You read me?"
Tara nodded. "Can I at least draw my gun, in case you missed a spot down here?"
He chuckled. "I suppose, although I never miss."
"Only when there's a bank door involved." She drew her gun, but kept it loose in her hand and pointed at the ground. "Just hurry up, okay? Anyone could have been here and gone by now."
"Righto. Back in a flash." He worked his way in through the entry and up the stairs.
"You think Graham would bother coming in here?" Elizabeth whispered. "There's been no one home since Wednesday."
"From the way you described him to us, I wouldn't put anything past him." Tara looked up as footsteps faded in from upstairs.
"Liz?" Bobby called out to her.
"Yes?" She walked into the living area, to the base of the stairs. At his expression, she stopped. "What is it?"
"Uh…what do you need for tonight?"
She looked up the empty staircase for a moment. "I can get it, Bobby."
He took a breath. "You don't need to. I want you there with Tara. What do you need?"
The whole situation was starting to get on her nerves. I feel like such a prisoner, she thought. This just twisted the vise too far— she'd had enough.
Bobby caught her halfway. "Liz, you're not going up there." He glanced at Tara, trying to get her help.
"Is Graham up there?" Her voice reflected her frustration.
"No, but—"
"Then get out of my way, Agent Manning. This is still my house, and I'm tired of Evan Graham making every place I go a prison camp." She pushed him aside and was out of his reach before he could turn around.
The Aussie motioned furiously to Tara. "Get up here, quick!"
Tara had taken but a single step when a cry echoed from the far end of the hallway. The two agents rushed back up the stairs.
Elizabeth was just coming out of the room as they reached it. Unsteady on her feet, she leaned against the wall. Her eyes were blazing. "That's it," she said, her voice low. "That is the last straw, I have HAD it." She sank to the floor.
Tara took the opportunity of Bobby's attention on the psychologist to see what had caused the sudden outburst. She stepped into the room…and had to bury a scream of her own.
Directly above Elizabeth's bed, a horrifying sight met her eyes. The beautiful gray tabby cat that Elizabeth was so fond of was nailed, spread-eagled, on the wall. The feline had been gutted, and a grisly message was smeared in blood: Here, pussy, pussy… A grotesque smiley face dripped below the words.
"Of all the…" Tara jumped as a hand grabbed her arm and hauled her back from the doorway.
Bobby's eyes were grave. "Go call ERT and get them over here," he said. "And go tell whoever's in charge of SOG out there to get their backside in here. I want some answers." Tara nodded and headed back downstairs.
Bobby knelt next to Elizabeth, who had her head rested on her drawn-up knees, her arms wrapped around her legs. "Are you okay?" he asked, settling a hand on her shoulder.
She sat up, leaning her head back against the wall, her eyes closed. He waited as she took a very deep breath, then let it out slowly.
"Liz?" he asked again.
"I'm fine," The strength he heard in her voice was surprising. She opened her eyes and looked directly at him. "I needed that."
Now he was really surprised. "You want to run that by me again?"
She smiled faintly. "I didn't mean it that way. No, I didn't need my cat killed or that insulting little note. But now I'm angry at him, Bobby. He intended to scare me, to worm his way further into my head. It didn't work. All it did was tick me off. That's strength right now."
Elizabeth looked at the Aussie very seriously, and laid a hand on his arm. "Bobby, there is no reason at all to tell Myles about this right now, all right?"
"But—"
She shook her head. "No. Look, I don't know what you all have cooked up for tonight, but I suspect that this would pretty much destroy it. He'll go through the roof. I'm fine. I'll tell him later, okay? Please."
Bobby nodded. "Probably a good idea anyway. You're right. He'd be out for blood, and that's dangerous. I've seen him like that only once before, and it's pretty scary." He stood up and helped her to her feet. "Now, tell me what you need, and I'll get it for you. You don't need to go back in there."
Tara came back upstairs just then, with another agent behind her. "Greg's in charge of the SOG setup here, Bobby."
Elizabeth straightened. "I can get what I need, Bobby; it's all right. Everything's accessible from where I don't have to look at that mess. If Tara can handle it, we can be done and back downstairs inside of two minutes." She caught a nod from her friend. "You obviously have some questions you need to ask. You cleared it up here; we'll be fine."
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Twenty minutes later, they were back in the car. Tara turned to Bobby, who was driving. "So how did Graham get into the house if SOG was watching the whole time?"
"Looks like he crawled through the bushes on the park side, then slid under the fence. We found the lock on your basement entrance under the deck had been bolt-cut. That's why they didn't see him— he never stood up into their sight lines."
Elizabeth folded her arms over her chest. "That's what I get for an open view of Grandin Park," she muttered. "He probably stayed down inside the house, too. I just wonder where he met up with Roger. My cat usually shied away from most people."
Tara heard the almost-break in her voice. "Maybe Roger got cornered in the bathroom or something. If Graham was that eager to make a statement…"
Bobby shook his head, deciding he'd best put a cap on the speculation. "The cat, in addition to everything else, had a crossbow tip lodged at the base of his skull. Graham wouldn't have had to get close. The comforting part, if any of this has one, is that he probably died very quickly."
The psychologist sighed. "Well, that's something, at least."
They pulled up outside Myles' house. Bobby turned around to face Elizabeth. "You take your stuff and go inside. We need to go give Dimitrius a report, then I'll be back. Shouldn't be more than an hour. Okay?"
"All right." She grabbed the garment bag and small case, and slid out of the car. She turned and signed thank you to both of them. Tara nodded, and then shooed her toward the house.
All was quiet when she walked in. Either Myles isn't home yet, or he's upstairs, she thought to herself. Then something on the kitchen counter caught her eye, and she walked over toward it.
A single white taper glowed in a crystal holder. Beneath it was a rose, laid across a small white envelope with her name written on it.
At this point, any rose would have given her the creeps— except this one. This one was special. Pale yellow petals, shading to a delicate pink on the edges, spoke to her heart like nothing else he could have given her— a Peace Rose.
She smiled softly, letting everything else melt away in the warmth that spread through her. She picked up the envelope and opened it. There, in his bold, elegant handwriting…
Your presence is graciously requested in the dining room at 7 p.m. Formal dress is preferred.
Elizabeth looked at her watch. Yikes, she thought, I have less than two hours to get ready. She hurried up the stairs to the guest room.
As soon as her door closed, the one across the hall opened. Myles stepped out, swung his jacket around to the back of his shoulder, and headed downstairs. The tie was around his open collar; he'd worry about that at the last minute. There were still plans to complete.
He stopped short when he reached the kitchen. The rose she had taken with her, but the note was open, and he noticed she had added something to it. He smiled as he read the response next to a faint lipstick kiss: I shall attend thee, my love.
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Leland Home, Washington, DC
Sunday, 7 p.m.
Elizabeth looked at herself once more in the mirror and smoothed a few strands of hair back from her face. The anticipation of whatever Myles had dreamed up for tonight had her heart pounding, and she wanted everything to be perfect. She did one more once-over, then nodded to herself in the mirror and walked downstairs.
A low whistle met her as she stepped off the staircase. Bobby Manning was just closing the refrigerator, after grabbing a soda. "Wow," he said. "You look incredible."
"Thank you," she smiled. "I hope that opinion is shared."
"If it's not, you let me know and I'll come knock some sense into him." The Aussie stepped closer to her and touched her arm briefly. "He could tell something happened earlier, but I didn't tell him anything."
"Thanks," she replied softly. "He'll be angry enough later. It'll wait."
Bobby tapped her under the chin. "You, pretty lady, just go enjoy yourself. He's been planning this since Friday night."
The psychologist laughed. "See? I knew you two were up to something. You made up that EPA case, didn't you?"
"Nope – he just wasn't working on it today. It's waiting for him tomorrow, and the rest of us when this is all done. I'm going to go out with SOG for a bit, but I'll be back later." He gave her a gentle push toward the closed pocket doors of the dining room. "Have fun." And he was out the door.
Elizabeth took a breath, smoothed down her dress once more, adjusted the thin scarf around her shoulders, and stepped over to the doors.
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He heard the door slide open, and turned to face her. When he saw her, he was glad he'd not picked up the wineglasses, because they'd have been in pieces at his feet about now.
To describe her in a single word, he'd always boiled it down to "elegant." Tonight was no exception, and it took his breath away.
Tall, shoulders back, the heels of her shoes bringing her almost eye-to-eye with him, her every movement radiated refinement. Her black hair was swept up in a simple twist, and the opals he'd given her for her birthday sparkled at her ears and throat.
Her dress was deep emerald silk, beautifully cut to skim snugly down to her waist, then flare into draped folds that flowed and caressed her long legs. A single row of tiny gold beads accentuated the spaghetti straps and the bodice line, drawing his eyes up over every curve and back to her slim shoulders. Sultry and sophisticated at the same time, she was exquisite, and he found that English just wasn't enough for a reply.
"Ma chérie, vous êtes la femme la plus belle au monde. Exquis!"(1) Myles took her hand and raised it to his lips.
Elizabeth smiled, and stepped toward him to kiss his cheek. "Bien merci, mon amour. Vous semblez merveilleux, aussi."(2) She looked around the room. "But I'm not sure French is the appropriate language for the setting you've created."
"I don't know how to say it in Spanish or Portuguese, though." He laughed softly and led her over to the table. "Since we couldn't make it to the embassy dinner, I thought we'd bring the embassy here."
"You have done that, beautifully," she replied as she looked around the room.
The table was set in china and crystal, there were beautiful white candles glowing from every corner, and he had even brought a native touch to the setting. Two beautiful arrangements of Pampas grass were brightened and made even more exotic by scarlet tiger lilies peeking out from the feathery grasses. Small Argentine flags completed the arrangements, and the music was soft Spanish guitar. There were also wonderful aromas coming from covered dishes on the table.
Elizabeth gave Myles a direct look, smiling brightly. "You weren't working today, were you?"
He laughed softly. "Maybe not on a case, but hey..." He took her in his arms and kissed her gently. "I hope I did well."
"You did perfectly," she replied.
"Good. Because I want us to forget about everything tonight and just enjoy ourselves." He pulled out a chair for her. "Now, I have a friend at a Peruvian restaurant downtown who switched countries just for us tonight, and she'd never forgive me if we let it get cold."
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The conversation was light, the food marvelous, and Elizabeth found herself totally at ease for the first time in almost two weeks. "If your friend is as incredible with her own country's fare as she was with this, I expect you to introduce me sometime soon."
Myles reached across the table for her hand. "Consider the reservations made. Just as soon as they stick Evan Graham back in his cage for good, you and I are going out on the town."
A shadow flickered across her green eyes, but her smile was brilliant. "I can't wait."
It seemed that he started to ask a question, but then stopped and rose from his chair in a graceful motion. "Well, this evening has just started, sweetheart. Let's not get ahead of ourselves." He walked over to the CD player and replaced the Spanish guitar with a different disc. He then turned to her. "Come dance with me," he said softly, holding out a hand to her.
Elizabeth stood and walked over to him, her face pale. "Myles, I'm really serious when I say I'm a hazard on the tango floor. Richard tried and tried to teach me the milonga, and I just couldn't get my feet to stay away from his."
Myles laughed softly, then pulled her into his arms. He stroked her cheek gently, then said, "Elizabeth, do you trust me?"
She nodded. "You have to ask that? Of course I trust you. It's just—"
He cut her off with a finger to her lips. "Then close your eyes, take a deep breath, and relax." After she did, he spoke again. "Now, look at me."
Emerald eyes locked with his.
He smiled, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close. "Now just hush and follow my lead."
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Bobby walked back into the house quietly, not wanting to disturb Myles and Elizabeth. He started for the study to grab a couple hours' sleep on the sofa, but stopped when he noticed the dining room doors had been left open about halfway. An exotic blend of instruments reached his ears, and his curiosity got the best of him. He stepped over to the doors.
He'd been dancing with Darcy a few times, even taken her to a "tango club" because it was something she'd always wanted to see danced. There had been a small booklet on the table there, explaining some of the history of the dance form and its variations. The milonga was about as far removed from the stereotypical "cheek-to-cheek stroll," most often associated with the tango, as possible. Watching Elizabeth with Myles now, a paragraph from that booklet came into his memory with great force:
"The tango has the power to pull two strangers together into one, to dance out their desires...to be great lovers and heroes, if only for a moment. It's the whisper of sensuality brought on by the hint of perfume. The tango is also the glamour of the ballroom and the allure of the underworld. It's the opulence of Paris and the smoky darkness of a Buenos Aires cafe. It's the world of subtle metaphors that captures the melancholy heart."(3)
And that's two strangers, the Aussie thought, mesmerized. Even more so between "lovers." A touch to the cheek, a hand slid provocatively down the other's arm or around the waist; the tango in any of its forms had a sensual edge to it, but the milonga had more eye contact than other forms, and so deepened the experience. Bobby could picture Darcy's eyes flashing brightly at his touch, and wondered how that might intensify in a moment such as the one he was witnessing.
Myles and Elizabeth moved as if they were extensions of each other, every nuance of movement reflected in the unbroken gaze they shared. He led her through increasingly intricate footwork, and it seemed at times as if she couldn't avoid stepping on his feet, a dangerous prospect in her stiletto heels. But whatever subtle signals he was sending her, she read them perfectly, and they made a striking couple.
Bobby stepped back, then very quietly pulled the doors closed, leaving them to their dance. He headed for the study and some sleep, shaking his head at the most unexpected side of his colleague he had just witnessed.
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The guitar faded away; they stood there for a long moment, gazing at each other, locked in the subtle sensuality that had woven its way around them. Gently, almost too slowly to bear, he leaned forward and kissed her.
For a moment, time stopped; then it raced into being again as every tender word not yet spoken was breathed into life by the passion that flowed between them.
His hands moved up into her hair, and pulled free the clip holding the elegant style in place. Raven tresses spilled over her shoulders, and his fingers tangled in them as he rained kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids. She drew in a sharp breath as his lips found her throat, and she whispered his name. He felt her shiver as his hands moved down over her shoulders, her back.
For a second, he felt her pause slightly; they'd reached this point only a few times in their relationship, and she always pulled back. He had never questioned it, but after last weekend he understood. He was ready to back off—
Then suddenly her hands drifted up his chest, moving around his neck and up into his hair. Her kisses grew bolder, exploring his face even as her hands moved over his shoulders, and he felt her lips caress his ear. The sensation almost overwhelmed him, but it also shocked him enough that he drew back, looking deeply into her green eyes. There was a hunger there, but there was more— fear, desperation.
His voice was very soft, and he made sure his tone was light. "Hey, did the rules change and someone forgot to tell me?"
She looked up at him, eyes wide, then dropped her gaze, her cheeks coloring. "I—"
Myles lifted her face back up. "Elizabeth, look at me. We've had other moments like this, and you've always stopped us before we went too far. I understand that - you want to wait, and that's fine. But what's different now? Is it Graham?"
She closed her eyes. "Oh, Myles, I'm sorry. I just...I don't want to...not without…"
He drew her back into his arms and just held her tightly for a moment. "Sweetheart, you are not going to die. I'm not going to let it happen, active case or not." He looked into her eyes again, a faintly stern expression on his face. "And I will not let Evan Graham haunt something I want to share with you, alone."
"You're right," she said softly, her fingers in his hair again, but gentler. "You're absolutely right. I'm sorry I allowed him into our evening at all. It just got to me today, I guess…"
"What did?"
She gasped a bit; she'd forgotten he didn't know yet. "Not now. I'll tell you in a while, but not right now. Not in the middle of our evening."
Myles gave her a roguish smile. "Love, if we don't bring our evening back to casual in a hurry, we're going to be in trouble. Tell you what…why don't we both go change, so there's no part of this evening associated, and then we can have dessert and you can tell me what happened. I know it had Bobby pretty wound up, but he wouldn't say anything."
"All right," Elizabeth replied. "I'm sorry things ended rather abruptly."
Another laugh. "I'm not, at this point. I think I'm going to need a cold shower before I change, anyway."
She blushed. "You and me both," she said. Then she looked up at him, flushing further. "I mean…I mean, I don't mean…"
Myles laughed and kissed her briefly on the lips. "I think maybe you should quit while you're ahead. Come on, let's both get changed, and I'll meet you back down here in a few minutes."
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He watched as they walked upstairs together. After the scene that had played out in front of his eyes just a few minutes ago, he certainly didn't expect them to come back. Enjoy it while you can, he thought at them. There won't be a tomorrow night.
He climbed down from his hiding place silently, the camera bag swinging against his hip as he landed. You certainly put on quite a show, my pets. And tomorrow you will discover who was watching.
As he climbed into his car, a thought struck, and it was too delightfully tempting to pass up. He pulled out his cell phone, then checked his folder for a phone number. A single ring before the answer surprised him. I suppose work always comes first. Poor slob.
"Leland."
Graham's voice was as sinuous as a snake's movement. "So beautiful…so very little time left." He heard a drawn-in breath, and hung up before Agent Leland could get even a word out.
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Something was wrong; she knew it from the tense line of his jaw and the fire in his eyes. He stalked down the stairs. "BOBBY!" He bellowed toward the study. "Get out here!"
"Myles, what's the matter? I heard the phone ring…" She trailed off as he turned his gaze on her.
"Come here." He indicated one of the kitchen stools. Then, as an afterthought, he ground out, "Please."
She walked over quietly and sat down, wondering what on earth had happened in the space of ten minutes to send him this far into anger so quickly. She watched him cross to the study in three strides and pound on the door.
"MANNING!"
"All right, all right…" Bobby opened the door, obviously having just awakened from a rather sound sleep. He took one look at the blond agent and woke up fast. "Myles, what—"
"Get over here. I want some answers, and I want them now."
Bobby exchanged a glance with Elizabeth as he walked over to the kitchen stools as well. She gave a slight shake of her head and a shrug of her shoulders. He raised a brow at her, then turned and leaned against the counter. "Answers for what, mate?"
Myles had been faced away from them, but now he swung around. His eyes blazed. "First of all, what the hell is SOG doing out there, knitting! I just got a call from Graham."
"What?" Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face. "He called? He called you? How did…?"
"I don't know," Myles snapped in reply. "And it wasn't long enough for a trace."
"What did he say, Myles?" Bobby was all business now, mostly because he didn't want to elevate his friend's anger any further.
"He just whispered, 'so beautiful… so very little time left.' Then he hung up. Is there any chance he's watching this place, too?"
Elizabeth could hear a trace of fear creeping into his anger. And it bothered her that her own anger from earlier was wavering into that realm as well. We need the anger right now, she thought. As much as I hate to see him like this, we need it.
Bobby was answering him. "If he is, he's outside the perimeter we set up. He'd need some pretty sophisticated equipment to get that kind of a range for surveillance. But you know as well as I do that there's surely a chance. I'll go out with SOG and check the area right now."
Myles held up a hand. "You're not going anywhere until the two of you tell me what happened earlier today."
Elizabeth got up and placed a hand on his arm. Her voice was gentle. "I'll tell you. Let Bobby go check, please."
Myles started to protest, but there was something in her voice that told him he should hear this without an audience; and she'd rather tell it that way.
"Go," he said to the Aussie. Bobby nodded and headed out the door.
Elizabeth led Myles over to the sofa and sat down, pulling him next to her. She could feel the anger radiating from him, and wished fervently she weren't about to add to it. But she had to.
Very quietly, she related the events of that afternoon at her house. She was a bit frightened at the loathing in her own voice, the utter disgust at Graham, but she knew it was her only defense against his mind-games right now.
When she finished, she looked up, expecting to see fire again. What she saw inits place… was molten lead. Gone was the explosion; now he was on a slow boil, and the temperature was rising rapidly.
His voice reflected her feelings. "That he would do something so… degrading… so utterly insulting…"
"Backfired." The single word, sharply spoken, brought his head up fast, and she reached out to grasp his hand. "Yes, it was horrifying what he did to Roger, and entirely insulting, that horrid note. But it backfired, Myles. He wanted to frighten me, to get a little more control, get into my head… into our heads, just as he did with that phone call. But all it did was get me angry— at him, at this whole mess, at the idea that someone thinks they can manipulate me. And that gives me a weapon against him. It frees me from that control. Am I making sense?"
Myles stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. "You are." He stroked her hair, her cheek, drinking in her delicate features. "But it doesn't change the fact that his 'torment' is taking a very disturbing turn."
"You mean the innuendo. The erotic nature of it. I suspect it's merely an angle; one that sickos like him use because the act it implies is sheer terror to women. Fear is control."
He heard the tremor in her voice, and knew she only half-believed what she was saying. "Whether it's an angle or not, it scares me. We need to get you totally into protection, Elizabeth. This running around between work and here is not safe."
She moved into his arms, needing the secure feeling his embrace offered. "I know. And that's why I crammed as much as I could into tomorrow— after that, everything else can be handled by my colleagues. At 5 o'clock tomorrow afternoon, I will go anywhere you all ask me to… as long as you're going to be there, too."
"Me? I have—"
"If he cannot find me, he will try to get to you, Myles. I know that, beyond all doubt. And I will not let that happen."
Myles kissed her gently. "All right. As much as I hate being on the receiving end of protective custody, I will be there. If they'll let me."
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1 Translation: "Sweetheart, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. Exquisite!"
2 Translation: "Why, thank you, my love. You look marvelous, too."
3 From 'This Is The Tango,' originally broadcast as a series of three radio programs during the last three weekends of April, 1997, and is now available in RealAudio format. These audio and support text files and logos are Copyright ©1998-2002, Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC), all rights reserved.