"He made no response, but when she glanced up the man had his head cockedto one side, studying her. "Have you figured it out yet?" she inquired,tremu...ously.He gave a quick sharp shake of his head. "Not a clue," he admitted."Do you remember Hamilton Pool?"His eyes narrowed as he nodded, and then widened slightly. Oh, God, hereit comes, she thought, but he remained silent."You really don't remember me?" she asked.He raised his chin a bit. "Just tell me," he urged, gently.She sighed softly and. M. Melanie was waiting outside the Levinson's modest home sitting in the small car, a Toyota, that her uncle had organized for her use. It had a stick shift of all things and Melanie had been extremely careful driving over.Marsha arrived shortly before 5 p.m. in an old Chevy sedan. Melanie quickly exited her ride and walked over to where the young woman was alighting from the old clunker. She was short and petite, with the muscles and sinewy legs of a dancer. Pretty too, in a fake blonde sort. More

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