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PROLOGUE

The light was blinding

For ahad existed before it, as if nothing could be greater than rising towar shadows, but though Leslie MacIntyre could see nothing clearly, they see to welco arms

"Hey, you!"

The voice was husky, affectionate, yet strangely jarring She looked up It was Matt She didn’t knohere they were, but so long as she and Matt Connolly were together, everything was all right

They’d h he was a few years older, he’d pulled her along in his wake and made her one of his crowd He’d called her Rebel, but he’d done it in such a teasing tone that no one had ever been able to use it against her He’d mocked her Southern accent, then announced that it was thehe’d ever heard She’d practically worshipped him over the years, then--yes, she could adely, it was a tragedy that had made her hopes and dreairl he had befriended had grown up And since then…

The years hadn’t all been perfect They’d been quite a thing once she’d graduated frootten the best of the hie in another state far to the south to play football, while she, still his Rebel, had stayed behind in Yankee territory, opting for NYU Despite a year in the pros post-college, he’d gone on to journalis in her own adopted hoone on to world affairs, then come home to write a column about life and issues in New York City

Back in New York, he had found her again--digging in the dirt, he joked Forto see each other, afraid of the intensity of the eht he had simply shown up at her door at 3:00 aaged, and now they were planning a wedding

Oddly enough, their lives together had added to both their careers He’d done some of his very best pieces for the paper--a h Matt, Leslie had been drawn into conversation with a detective about an elderlyShe knew the area in Brooklyn where he had disappeared, which was filled with old subway tunnels Asking the detective to humor her, she had led him to the place where the man had ended his days

She’d felt alued with herself that knowledge and logic had brought her to the place But now , and Matt had warned her that they were thinking about asking her to use her extraordinary knowledge of the city and its infrastructure to help with a new spate of disappearances Matt hi about it for the paper People constantly disappeared in New York, of course But these disappearances see were all women who lived on the streets And they were all prostitutes

Matt had pointed out that, throughout history, neither the police nor the populace had seemed to care about the fate of those who lived in the underbelly of society

The moral majority never worried too much until it was threatened itself

She could tell that Matt wanted her to get involved, though she seriously doubted she could be of any help She wished she could, but she couldn’t suddenly claim to be some kind of clairvoyant

And she had her real work, which she believed was important, and which she loved

And which had brought them here Here? Where exactly were they now?

They’d started the evening in the newly renovated Hastings House, at a fund-raiser so the historical foundation that e site There was a field of architectural gold to be explored there, and her employer was thrilled to have such an eloquent columnist as Matt Connolly on their side while they battled a ht to do research before everything was destroyed for the sake of a new high-rise

But as for actually being with Matt tonight…They’d barely had a chance to say hello

A number of representatives were there fro property--trying to pretend that they were delighted to plan around the historical significance of the place--along with Greta Peterson, socialite and ambassador for the Historical Society, a few Broadway personalities, soadeveloper Tyson, Smith and Tryon, had swooped down on Matt theto sway Matt’s opinion to the fir Captain Ken Dryer, the chariseant Robert Adair--as in charge of the investigation into theher with brooding conteht--and politicians frohs

She’d been across the rooue

She’d just excused herself to go to Matt and then…

What?

He was hunkered down beside her now just as he had been when a football struck her in the head when they were playing in the streets so iven her then, full of interest and amusement toward most situations, a dry smile Even a bit rueful, as if, in the end, there was little to do but , wondering why she couldn’t re on the floor? "You’re here"

"Yeah, I’m here," he murmured "For just this moment"

"Just this moment?" she queried She wanted to reach out and touch his face Daed way, of course Steady blue eyes, generous h cheekbones Tall and in shape, he was the guy everyone would have hated if he hadn’t been so damned decent So men liked him, and women loved him

Despite her confusion, she felt herself rise and turn toward the light It had the most incredible power She couldn’t resist it She felt that it offered release from pain, froht her arination? She turned her attention back to hi quartet that had been playing that evening Froht she heard screams and chaos

"Silly Rebel," he said softly, as he had soup "You have to stay here You can’t go yet"