SARAH TAYLOR'S APARTMENT
At first,
Sarah
isn't sure where the mechanical tune is coming from. But it is not a Nokia
commercial on the television, so she scans the room as the tune continues.
"Ah-ha," she
says to herself as she spots her cell phone sitting on the table in the
small dining area. She lifts herself from the couch, leaving Letterman
behind.
Her first thought
is that it must be work-related. Maybe a client just learned something
that might be of use to her, or something just happened that would turn
a case on its head. But when she sees the caller ID flashing on the small
screen, she freezes.
"Hi," she says
when she finally does answer the phone.
"Hi,"
Matt
says back. His voice doesn't betray much, try as Sarah might to read it.
"How've you
been?"
"Fine."
Fine.
Ouch. That doesn't tell her anything at all. Or maybe it does ... Jeez,
he didn't even ask how I am, she realizes as they sit in silence.
She is next
to speak up. "I'm glad you called. I've been worried--wait, is something
wrong? Why are you calling so late?"
"Nothing's
wrong," he says coolly. He makes it sound like a fact, nothing more. It's
clear that he isn't making any effort to reassure her. "I just needed to
talk to you," he adds.
Sarah feels
a little jump inside. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. It's
something real important and I don't think it can wait."
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