It was three o'clock on a hot summer day in downtown Los Angeles. Jonathan Hart reclined slightly in the black leather chair, listening what was being said, but not really comprehending it. In his mind, he was already out of the office, with thoughts of business far behind him. Stanley Friesen had been talking for what seemed like hours and the easels and poster board displays that he had been presenting to Jonathan now cluttered the office. Stanley was thorough, and his attention to detail usually impressed Jonathan, but today he found it somewhat annoying. Stanley had been a loyal employee of Hart Industries for many years. He had started out as an intern in the research department and had since worked his way up to head the department. He was a strange man, of small stature, and somewhat comical appearance, but he was extremely competent and Jonathan trusted him completely. His ability to gather information when no one else could constantly amazed his employer.

"If that is all, Stanley, lets call it a day." Jonathan looked at the other man, then at his watch, hopeful that he wouldn't have anything else on his agenda that would keep him at the office for one minute longer.

"That's it, Mr. Hart. We can go over the rest on Monday. Nothing urgent."

"Sounds good." Jonathan actually felt a sense of relief, knowing that for the next couple of days he would be free of all of the responsibilities of the corporate world. He just didn't want to think about business now. He usually loved the challenges that being the CEO of Hart Industries provided him but recently he had been feeling a little overwhelmed. Nothing a little time away wouldn't cure though.

Jennifer had been just as busy for the past couple of months and they had finally managed to make plans to slip away for a romantic weekend in New York. They needed this time away from the hectic schedules they had been keeping of late. He had been working on some corporate reorganization that he hoped would eventually free up some of his time, shifting some of the day to day responsibilities from himself to a couple of trusted, and long time advisors. Jennifer was in the final stages of a book deal she was putting together with a new publisher, one that would finally allow her the freedom to write a novel that she had been longing to write.

As Stanley gathered up his charts and graphs, Jonathan took one last look at the small stack of papers on his desk that he needed to sign before leaving. Normally, he would have taken them home to review over the weekend, but not this weekend. Nothing was going to spoil the plans he had with his wife. He glanced at the photo of Jennifer sitting at the corner of his large mahogany desk and smiled. Just seeing her there, smiling back at him had helped him get through many long days. Sometimes he still couldn't believe she was his wife, he felt like he was living a dream. He was truly a lucky man.

The sound of a female voice through the intercom caught his attention. "Mr. Hart, your wife is here." The voice was that of Deann, his longtime secretary. She had been employed there almost as long as Stanley, and her competence and dedication had not gone unnoticed by Jonathan, or any of the high level executives of the company. A few years back she had taken an extensive leave from her position to start a family, and during her absence things never ran as smoothly. Jonathan had jumped at the chance to lure her back to his employ when she suggested that she might be interested in reentering the work force. She had received many lucrative offers from other companies who wanted to steal her away from her employer, but she remained loyal to her boss and Hart Industries. She respected Jonathan Hart, and felt he was a man of high moral standards, which was rare in the cutthroat world of business. He recognized her dedication and rewarded her generously, so she never felt the need to look for employment elsewhere.

"Send her in, Deann." Jennifer was always careful not to interrupt Jonathan's business meetings, preferring to have Deann announce her arrival when she knew he was in a meeting.

She entered the office, pausing briefly to observe Stanley wrestling with an easel and some large diagrams, before approaching her husband who was standing there watching Stanley's antics, a look of obvious amusement on his face.

"Hello Darling," she said. "Are you done here?"

He kissed her gently on the cheek. "Hi Darling. Stanley and I just finished up. You have excellent timing, as always."

"Oh…Hello Mrs. Hart, " Stanley stammered. "I didn't even hear you come in… I was just leaving."

"Take your time, Stanley," she replied, noticing the struggle that he was having, the props that he was attempting to remove from the office obviously getting the better of him. "Can we give you a hand?"

"No thanks, Mrs. Hart. I've got it." He moved toward the open doorway, his arms full and his eyes focused on Jennifer, and immediately collided with Deann who was carrying a cup of hot coffee into the inner office. Papers flew everywhere and the creme colored carpeting was quickly absorbing the dark liquid that had spilled from Deann's cup.

"I hope you didn't really want that cup of coffee, Mrs. Hart." Deann tried not to laugh as she spoke. Her eyes were fixed on Stanley who was already frantically looking around for something to wipe up the mess he had made. They were all used to accidents when Stanley was present.

"I'm sorry…I guess I am just a little clumsy today….I'll get this cleaned up right away….Mr. Hart…Mrs. Hart…I just didn't see her…" Stanley spoke in sentence fragments, unable to complete anything more. He straightened his glasses which were crookedly sitting on his nose, and ran his fingers through the hair around the sides of his head which framed the bald spot which had become more pronounced through the years. "I…uh…let me get something to clean this up with…um…I'm sure it won't stain…"

"Stanley, it's okay. Accidents happen." Jonathan hoped to lessen the embarrassment that Stanley was feeling. He looked to his wife, raising his eyebrows slightly, and giving her a look that told her that she was responsible for this little accident.

Stanley always became flustered in the presence of women, particularly beautiful women, and the effect that Jennifer had on him was a source of entertainment for the Harts. Stanley's pattern of thought was usually scattered, at best, but it increased noticeably whenever Jennifer entered the room. She was actually flattered by it, but also a bit embarrassed for him, and she tried to set him at ease whenever possible. "Stanley, don't worry about it. The cleaning people will be in over the weekend and I'm sure they can remove a coffee stain. Go home and have a nice weekend."

"Thanks Mrs. Hart. I hope you and Mr. Hart have a good weekend. Let me get out of your way, I'll get my things later."

"See you Monday, Stanley." With those words, Jonathan dismissed him and then turned to his wife. "Ready to go?"

"The bags are packed and in the car. Frank called the house earlier and said that he would have the Hart Industries jet ready and fueled by five o'clock. Now, all we need to do is make our escape."

Jonathan pulled Jennifer into his arms. "I would escape to anywhere with you." He kissed her softly, and began guiding her in the direction of the door. "Were you able to get the theater tickets for tomorrow night?"

"They will be waiting for us at the box office. And I called the Plaza to confirm our suite for the weekend. Nothing stands between us and a weekend away from all of the stress of the real world."

"What are we doing standing here then? Lets get going!" He was anxious to get out of the building, the longer they remained there, the greater the chance something would come up that required his attention.

They paused momentarily in the outer office, to say goodbye to Deann, and for Jonathan to give her some last minute instructions. As they rode the elevator down to the parking garage, many floors below the top floor office of Jonathan Hart, they stood silently, holding hands, and feeling almost giddy at the prospect of spending the weekend alone in New York. It had been too long since they had taken a weekend trip like this one and they both silently vowed that they would make an effort to find the time to do it more often.

The elevator came to a halt at parking garage and they stepped out into the hot and humid air, a noticeable change in contrast to the cool, air-conditioned office they had just left. They crossed the parking area and approached the black Bentley which was parked in the spot reserved for Jonathan. Often, Jonathan would park in the front of the building, on the street. It had started years before when he would begin his day by stopping at the newsstand to greet Rose, or pausing to buy flowers from Hannah, a sweet blind woman whose supplemented her social security check by selling flowers on the street. Jonathan had always slipped her more than the cost of the flowers, he was that kind of man. But they were both gone now. He had parked in the garage today as he had been in a hurry and wanted to get into the office and wrap things up as quickly as possible, in order to leave early. He went around to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for Jennifer, and closing it after she had taken her place on the tan leather seat inside the vehicle. He rounded the car and was opening his door when a woman's voice startled him.

"Mr. Hart?" The woman, who looked to be in her mid to late thirties, seemed unsure of whom she was calling. "I noticed the name on the parking spot. Are you Jonathan Hart?"

"Yes, I am. Can I help you with something?" He was in a hurry, and not happy about the situation. This wasn't uncommon for him though, many people approached him in this manner, asking for a job, a charitable donation, or various other things. This woman didn't look like the usual type though, she was dressed casually, in denim shorts and a lightweight knit shirt, and she carried only a small handbag. Most people who were looking for a job would at least take the time to present a professional image. He sensed that this woman wasn't job hunting here in the parking garage.

"Mr. Hart, you don't know me, but I know who you are." The conversation was beginning to make Jonathan a little nervous.

"What can I do for you?"

Jennifer's curiosity had gotten the better of her by this point and she opened the car and looked at her husband inquisitively before speaking. "Darling, we'd better be going if we are going to make it to the airport in time."

The woman spoke softly, and hesitantly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you. I just wanted a few minutes of your time….maybe some other time…" Her voice, which had been steady a few seconds before, now quivered. "Have a nice trip." She turned away from them and began to walk away.

"What's your name?" Jonathan called after her. "Perhaps you could make an appointment for next week. Just speak with my secretary, Deann, she handles my schedule."

She looked at them, first to Jonathan, then Jennifer. "Thank you, I might just do that. Sorry to keep you from your plans."

"It's no problem," Jennifer replied to the woman who was walking away quickly. "But you didn't tell us your name." Her voice echoed in the enclosed space of the parking garage, but the woman just continued to walk away. She turned to face her husband, who was wearing a puzzled expression. "That was strange. Did she seem a bit odd to you?"

"Yes, she did, darling." He hesitated as he watched the woman disappear into the shadows of the parking garage. "Maybe she'll call my office and then we will figure out what she wanted." He wasn't going to spend another minute thinking about it, most likely it was nothing, and they had a plane to catch. "We can still make it to the airport by five if we don't get caught in too much traffic. But I don't think Frank will leave without us." He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes at him in response.

"I guess there are some perks to being married to a man with a company jet at his disposal!" She laughed and tossed head slightly to the side, a devilish look on her face.

"Is that the only perk you get from being married to me?"

"Well, there might be a couple others but you'll have to spend the weekend refreshing my memory! If we ever get there, that is."

He knew exactly what she meant and quickly jumped into the car, as she did the same. "New York, here we come!"

He started the car and pulled away from their parking spot, heading toward the opening in the parking garage where the sun brightly streamed in from the outside world. As they proceeded toward the exit, they both noticed the woman who had approached them a couple minutes before, fumbling through her purse, looking for something. She leaned against a blue car, an inexpensive compact vehicle, presumably searching for her keys. He was slowing down, wanting to see if she needed assistance, when several loud, ear-piercing sounds rang out. At first, Jennifer had though it was the sound of a car backfiring, but Jonathan immediately recognized the sound and, grabbing Jennifer's head, he pushed her downward, away from the car windows. A couple of seconds passed before Jonathan straightened up and looked outside of their car to see what had happened. He immediately noticed the woman slumped over the hood of her car, moving only slightly. She fell to the ground on her knees, grasping at her arm, the sleeve of her white shirt reddening with the color of blood. He looked around and didn't see the gunman, then he heard the sound of a car in the distance screeching it's tires as it sped away.

"Call 911, " he shouted to Jennifer, tossing the cellular phone in her direction. "I'm going to see if I can help her."

"Darling, be careful," she called after him, but he had already darted out of the car and was attending to the woman. She was conscious, but in shock, and Jonathan didn't think she had been hit anywhere but in her arm. He ran back to their car and removed a blanket from the trunk, which he used to apply pressure to the woman's injury. The woman sat their quietly, looking dazed, and with a vacant expression showing in her eyes.

After alerting the police, Jennifer rushed over to where Jonathan was kneeling on the cement, holding the blanket against the woman's arm. "How is she?"

"It doesn't look too serious. She's lost a fair amount of blood, but it looks to be a flesh wound. She's shock, I think, and she isn't responding when I try to talk to her."

Jennifer knelt down next to the woman and looked directly into her eyes. For a brief moment, she thought she almost saw something familiar there. She couldn't place it, she was sure she had never met the woman before, and she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she was having. "How are you feeling? I have called an ambulance and they are on the way." She spoke slowly, as one would speak to someone who was confused, or even a little slow. She got no response from the woman, who was awake but in a seemingly catatonic state. "We're going to get you to a hospital, you're going to be just fine. Can you tell us your name?"

Just then the ambulance entered the garage, the siren sounding, and pulled up next to the Hart's car. Two men, dressed in paramedics uniforms, quickly assessed the situation and began tending to the woman. They checked her vitals and wrapped her arm loosely, the woman still not speaking a word or responding to their questions. The police had also arrived, they had attempted to speak with the woman also, but found it to be an exercise in frustration. They were now standing back until the paramedics were able to load the woman into the nearby ambulance. Within 5 minutes, the ambulance had left the scene, taking the woman to a local hospital.

"Did either of you see anything?" The familiar voice of Lieutenant Gray caused them to turn away from the spot where the woman had lain. "As soon as I heard the police radio call for assistance at Hart Industries, I knew I would find you two here. I assume neither of you has been hurt?"

Jonathan confirmed that they were fine. "Unfortunately, that woman can't say the same."

"The paramedics tell me she will be alright. No need to call in the homicide boys. Tell me, how did you two just happen to be here at the precise moment of this shooting?" He was mildly amused by the Harts, they always seemed to find trouble, or maybe trouble found them. And as amateur detectives, he had to admit they weren't half bad. Either they had a nose for trouble, or they were just the unluckiest people he had ever known, because they were regulars down at headquarters. He had joked with them in the past about them having his direct line on the speed dial of their phone. He genuinely liked them though, and even considered them to be his friends. He often found himself on the guest list at Hart Industries functions and had even been invited to their home several times.

The Harts recounted their story for him, which was quite short, since they really didn't know anything. They told him how she had spoken to them at their car a few minutes before the shooting, but that they hadn't seen who was involved, or the type of car they left in. As always, they promised to make themselves available if he had any further questions.

It was now nearly seven o'clock, and despite the fact that their transportation would still be waiting for them at LAX, they didn't feel right leaving for their trip with the woman lying in the hospital.

"Jonathan, do you think we could maybe stop by the hospital to see that she's okay before we leave for New York?"

He willingly obliged, knowing that neither of them would have a good time without first reassuring themselves that she was fine. They rode in silence for a while, before Jonathan vocalized what he had been thinking since shortly after the shooting.

"Do you think that this whole thing could be connected to the fact that she needed to talk to us about something? If we had just taken the time to talk with her, this might not have happened."

"I don't know, I was wondering the same thing. She seemed a bit shaky, but at the time I didn't think anything of it. Darling, we can't blame ourselves, how could we have known?" She reached out her hand and brushed the back of his hair, which had been ruffled in all of the excitement.

"I know you're right, but somehow I feel responsible….well, maybe responsible isn't the right word….involved, perhaps…" He reached up and took her hand from his shoulder where it rested and held it tight. "Maybe we will get some answers at the hospital."

The nurse they spoke with in the emergency room wasn't much help. They inquired about her condition and were told it was "good" but beyond that they couldn't get any information. Even the woman's name seemed a closely guarded secret, the staff referring to her as "the gunshot wound to the left arm". It seemed very impersonal to Jennifer, who then asked when they could be allowed to visit her.

"Are you family?" The harsh voice of the nurse paused, impatiently waiting for their reply. The scowl on her face matched the tone of her voice.

"No, we're not. But we were there when it happened. We would just like to see that she is alright and see if there is anything we can do for her." Jennifer was getting tired of waiting and the annoyance in her voice was very apparent.

"Darling, why don't you go sit in the waiting room while I get to the bottom of this. I'll just be a minute." She looked tense, and was bothered by the treatment they were receiving in the emergency room, and he knew that this was not the start to the weekend that they had been planning.

"I'll go and get some coffee then. Do you want some darling?"

"No thanks." He knew that caffeine was the last thing he needed, he was already wide awake.

Jennifer arrived back at the nurses station about ten minutes later, slightly more relaxed, but anxious to see the woman and get out of there. Jonathan was waiting for her, leaning against the large desk, chatting with the nurse who had previously refused to let them see the woman. Jennifer noticed that the woman, whose face had been tightly scrunched in a frown, was now smiling. Jonathan's charm had won him yet another admirer.

He looked in her direction, as if he could sense her approaching. "Come on, darling. She's in room 12, just down the hall." He took her arm and they began walking down the hall, observing the room numbers posted on the door in bold black lettering.

"How did you get her to let you in here?" She already knew, but wanted to hear her husband's explanation for the sudden change in the nurse's demeanor.

"You didn't think you were the only one who isn't immune to my charms, did you?" He winked at her, then pushed the door open, where they came face to face with the woman who was lying motionless in the hospital bed. The blinds in the room were tightly drawn and there was emergency equipment covering the shelves. She wasn't in a regular patient room, they had kept her in the emergency wing, something that Jonathan thought to himself was a good sign that she wouldn't be here long. For the first time, they really looked at her. She was a plain looking woman, with dark hair, and eyes that looked haunted. Nothing about her stood out, she was rather plain in appearance, someone that most people probably passed on the street without a second glance. Her arm was wrapped tightly in bandages, but other than that, she didn't look as if the shooting had touched her. Physically, at least.

She turned toward them with a look of surprise. "Mr. and Mrs. Hart, I didn't expect to see you here." Her voice was soft, but steady, and they were impressed with her level of composure, considering the ordeal she had just been through.

Jennifer came closer and touched her hand, a gesture that comforted her. "We wanted to see that you were okay."

"They tell me that I am free to leave anytime, but I suspect that the police will want to talk to me." Just saying the word "police" seemed to disturb her.

Jonathan spoke up, as if on cue, "Do you know who did this? Any information you can give the police will help them get the person responsible. We have friends in the department, I'm sure they will be very helpful."

"You shouldn't get involved, Mr. Hart. I shouldn't have tried to contact you earlier….but….I just thought you could help….I didn't know who else to turn to."

"But why us?" Jennifer was speaking now, a desire to understand why this woman had sought them out.

"You really should go. Weren't you leaving to go somewhere? I don't want to ruin your plans." She was trying to act insistent, but they could see a scared little girl inside who desperately wanted them to stay.

"We can help you." Jonathan looked at his wife, an apologetic look in his eyes for the weekend that was now lost. The expression that she returned told him that she understood. He then continued, "First, why don't you tell us your name."

"I'm not sure that is a good idea…really, go on your trip…I don't even know you, I have no right to drag you into this." Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them, looking away as she wiped her eyes. "Just go…"

Jennifer handed her a tissue and sat down on the edge of the bed. She wanted to comfort this woman, but didn't know how. She was a stranger, but something inside of Jennifer made her want to lessen her pain somehow. "I'm afraid we're already involved. And we want to help. Please, let us."

The woman was visibly moved by Jennifer's plea and wiped the remainder of her tears away before she spoke. "My name is Andrea…Andrea Brenner."

Jonathan and Jennifer looked at each other with the mention of the familiar name, Brenner. Coincidental? They weren't sure now. They looked to the woman for answers.

"We used to have a very close friend with that last name. His name was Max. Are you any relation?"

"Yes," she replied, a pause filling the room that seemed to go on forever, "I am. Max was my father."