Madison ran down her list once more.  She double checked her suitcase.  Reassured that everything she'd need was packed, she zipped it, then heaved it off the bed and rolled it to the front door.  She grabbed her keys and slung her bag over her shoulder.  She was so excited.  Today was the day.  She felt the familiar tingle race through her body.  After six long years she was finally going to meet the man she loved.

   Once the plane leveled out, Maddy eased her grip on the arm rests and relaxed against the seat with a sigh.  The man seated next to her smiled easily.  "I take it you don't care to fly either."

   He was goodlooking, Maddy observed.  Dark hair and eyes, great bone structure, and he was in good physical condition.  She guessed him to be in his early thirties, the fine lines around his eyes the only indication of maturity.  She smiled back.  "What gave you that idea?"

   "The white knuckles."

   He nodded toward her hand.  It was still clutching the arm rest, though not as tightly as it had during take off.  "Oh." She laughed and moved her hand.  "I guess it does make me a little nervous."

   "Yeah, same here," he said.  "And I've done it often enough to be used to it by now."

   Maddy took in the dark brown suit, white shirt and gold tie.  He looked like a reporter.  "What do you do?" she asked.  "I mean what is it that has you flying so often?"

   "I'm a homicide detective," he said, then fished a card out of his breast pocket to hand to her.  Dave Allen, it read.  Special Investigations, Homicide Unit.  The address was in Denver.

   "Wow," she said, flipping the card over and seeing a number on the back.  "That must be some gruesome work.  How long have you been with the police?"  Her eyes met his with renewed interest.

   "Fifteen years," he said.  "Had to fly into Sac for an indictment hearing.  The purp killed five women.  He was arrested after the first one but got off on a technicality.  We've been after him for two years.  I was glad to see him finally get what he deserved."  He paused.  "Sorry if I sound callous, Miss..."

   "Just Maddy," she extended her hand.  He shook it, a slow smile curving one side of his mouth.

   "Nice to meet you, Just Maddy."

   She laughed.  "You don't sound callous at all.  I think we all wanna see criminals like that get what they deserve."

   "Problem is, there's at least five more to take the place of every one we get off the streets," he said.

   "I'm sure."

   "Enough about me." He turned a keen eye on her.  "What about you?  What do you do that has you up in the air? 

   Suddenly self conscious, Maddy brushed an imaginary peace of lint off her pale blue sweater.  "I'm a web designer, though that's not why I'm flying to Denver." 

   "I've made you uncomfortable.  I apologize," his deep voice was soothing. 

   "No, it's ok, Detective..."

   "Dave," he corrected.

   "Dave.  It's just that I haven't told anyone why I'm going.  It might sound a little...crazy."  She bit her lip.  He glanced away, shook his head, then looked at her again.  His dark eyes seemed to soften. 

   "Considering I've seen my share of 'crazy'," he emphasized the word, "you're welcome to try me.  Bet it won't top anything I've heard before." He winked.  "Not that I mean to pry," he added.  "You just seem like you're itching to tell someone...maybe get an honest opinion."

   "Ok, you've got me there." She breathed.  "I have been dying to tell someone.  And I guess an opinion wouldn't hurt either."  She looked at him in mock suspicion.  "You really are a detective."

   He grinned.  "For far too long, evidently.  I've become a professional snoop."

   She laughed at that.  "I wouldn't call it snooping." She let him off the hook.  We were talking about what one another does for work and whether or not it relates to flying...it just happened to be my turn to spill."

   "So spill," he prompted.

   "Ok, I'm going there to meet someone," she said, "someone I met on the internet."  She guaged his reaction, but here was no smirk as she'd expected.  There was no humor in his expression at all.  If anything, there was a sublte hint of surprise.  A reaction he seemed to be attempting to conceal.

   "What?" She asked, feeling a negative vibe.

   "It's just that..." He tilted his head; scratched it.  "I don't mean to burst your bubble or anything, but I am a cop.  We deal with this kind of thing all the time, meeting people from the net, I mean, and I'm sure you've heard how risky it is, especially for women." He looked at her with an expression that begged understanding.

   "I know what you're getting at, Detective..."

   "Dave," he reminded.

   "Dave," she smiled at his attempt to lighten the sudden turn the conversation took.  "Yes, I'm very well aware of the risks involved in meeting someone like this," her eyes bored into his, "but I'm sure about it.  We've been talking for six years.  And as odd as it may seem, we've come to know each other very well. We...love each other.  I'm positive Jared would never hurt me.  I couldn't imagine him ever hurting anyone.  He doesn't have a vicious bone in his body."

   He locked his fingers together; gazed ahead.  "Six years is a long time," he said,  "but, trust me, a psychopathic serial killer could easily talk to you for ten years and convince you he's Prince Charming." He turned then.

   Maddy just stared at him.  She had no doubt what he said was true, but there was no way she could believe something like that of Jared.  Not her Jared.  He just wasn't capable of such a thing.  She was certain of that.   It might not be something she could prove, but deep down she just knew it.  "I'll keep that in mind, Dave.  Thank you."

   "Now I've offended you," he said, running a hand through his hair.  "I'm sorry, really.  I'm not trying to scare you, but honestly?  You should be a little scared.  I mean, what do you really know about this guy, other than what he wants you to know?  Do you know anything about his past?  Where he grew up?  What life's been like for him?  What kind of work does he do?"  He paused a minute.  "Have you ever made him angry?" 

   "Yes, I have," she admitted.  "We've been in a few arguments.  You don't know someone for six years and not have an argument or two.  But I've never noticed anything odd about his behavior.  His anger seems as normal as anyone's", she defended.  "As for work? He's an artist.  Growing up? He was raised in Denver.  And what's his life been like?  He had some rough spots growing up an only child, but nothing he'd be scarred from.  He's very close to his parents and seems very loving by nature.  Honestly, Dave, I don't think I have anything to fear.  I've thought about all those things, and I've kept my eyes peeled for anything that would seem out of the ordinary, but there's never been anything to indicate he's a wolf in sheep's clothing."

   "Ok," he said simply.  "I don't mean to be the voice of doom.  I just wanted to be sure you were aware." 

   Maddy closed her eyes and sighed.  "I'm sorry I was defensive.  I'm just certain about Jared, that's all.  Really, if I believed for one moment that he could be anything but what I've known him to be, I wouldn't be going to meet him."

   He forced one side of his mouth up, though he looked like he might argue the point further.  Instead he nodded.  "Ok, if you're sure, I'll leave it alone," he said.  "But one more thing before I drop the subject.  Pepper spray, stop and pick some up.  Wait," he put up a hand to stop her argument, "I'm not saying you'll need it.  Just as a precaution.  Ok?"

   She finally nodded.  "Ok".  "I guess it can't hurt."

   "No, it can't." He winked.