But the way he looked at me was different than men usually look at me. His expression was caring, gentle, maybe even loving. It was certainly not thre...tening, but it made me more anxious. Why, I don't know. Quietly, he asked to see me alone."That day I'd dressed sexily, a short skirt and tight, open blouse. When he and I met in a small conference room away from the main meeting, I crossed my legs and made sure my skirt rode up my thighs. I mean, these were perfect legs and he was a man, an. Good luck!" Thanks."Steven relayed what he had learned to Becca when she brought him coffee.She showed no emotion."Thanks, Uncle Steven," she said. "I suppose I ought to have guessed at something like that but not when she was killed. I thought as a kid that she was too young to die and that she'd sugared off with some bloke and didn't want me along. That's what's made me so bitter: that she'd have left me to all those bloody do-gooders who just wanted to get into my knickers."She was silent. More

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