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during a counseling session. Crying didn’t make me uncomfortable, not even these tears seeming to come from the depth of his soul. I longed to pat him on the shoulder but of course, couldn’t touch him.
    Tears or not, he still had a big test of trust to pass.
    I waited several minutes until he collected himself.
    “Sorry, not sure where that came from. I’ve been holding everything in for so long, it just sort of broke out, I guess.”
    “No problem. The tension of the last few days has to be incredible. Get some rest. I’ll be back.” I’d wanted to ask more questions, but he appeared wiped out.
    I stood and motioned the guard over. He appeared at Kirk’s side immediately to lead him back to his cell.
    If Kirk had been acting, he was Oscar material.

 
    CHAPTER TEN
    The rest of the day, my brain bounced like a ping-pong ball between serving clients and focusing on the shooting. If Kirk hadn’t shot Lenora, who had? The question reverberated over and over.
    My computer database skills were minimal but sufficient for me to perform a basic search on the web for T. Hartford. An hour later I had no success, although I was sure the information was there somewhere.
    Frustrated, I called Nick and asked him to arrange for his firm’s investigator to locate the phone listing. A couple of keystrokes on his part, and I’d have it. Time was critical. Until the person who attempted to kill Lenora was behind bars, my friend wasn’t safe.
    I prayed for her again, refusing to think Lenora might never get off the ventilator and be able to provide clues to her assailant.
    My cell phone vibrated within the hour. Nick .
    “Hon, just e-mailed you a list of T. Hartford phone numbers and addresses.”
    “Good man. Thanks. It would have taken me half a day to do a thorough search and probably still produce nothing. Use all competent help available is my philosophy.”
    “That’s why you married me. See you at home around six. You can give me my reward then.”
    “A go-between and you still expect a reward?”
    “Of course.”
    I smiled as I put down my phone.
    Before I examined the names, I called the hospital. The nasal-voiced ward clerk transferred me to the ICU waiting room. Luckily I caught Tucker.
    “How is she?”
    “Good news. Her blood gases are improving. They hope to begin to ease her off the ventilator.”
    “Great.”
    “They don’t guarantee it will work. I’m afraid to be optimistic.”
    “Nick and I will be praying fervently. May it happen.” I shut my eyes briefly. “Do you have another minute?”
    “Sure.”
    “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to ask you about a name I saw in Lenora’s appointment book.”
    “Who?”
    “T. Hartford. Does that ring a bell?”
    A brief silence followed. “Yes, I recognize the name. Is he important?”
    “So it’s a man. I think Lenora was supposed to meet with T. Hartford the day before she was shot. What can you tell me about him?”
    “I’ve never met him, but I know of him. Just a minute, please.”
    Murmured conversation droned in the background.
    Tucker came back on. “The doctor just walked in to give me an update. What I have to tell you about Hartford is a long story. Can you meet me tomorrow for breakfast around seven at Barry’s in Lake Geneva? I’ll fill you in then.”
    He hung up before I could say fine. I assumed he knew I’d be there.
    * * *
    “You’re quiet tonight, honey. Tough day?” Nick talked to my back. We’d just finished dinner. He sat at the table checking evening TV listings in the paper while I cleaned up.
    “Just tired.” I wiped the counter, clearing away the last particles of food left behind from dinner preparations.
    “Let that go for a few minutes. Come sit with me.”
    “These microbes will hatch into something deadly if I miss them.”
    “Not a chance with you at the helm of this home. Want some help?”
    “No, you cooked.” I sighed. “Cleaning is a mundane job—life is filled with ordinary tasks, tedious