The Protector. Jule McBride

the sun doesn’t shine?”

      “You’ll never get the chance. I won’t bother again to say he’s innocent. I’m starting to sound like a broken record.”

      “You’re awfully sure of your point of view,” she noted. “Haven’t you heard—pride goeth before a fall?”

      “I’m confident, not prideful. And I don’t fall, Judith.”

      “Never?” she asked, echoing his words.

      “Never.”

      He definitely looked confident. He always looked confident. “If you ask me, you’re a little too smug tonight. Too self-satisfied. What are you keeping from me?”

      He looked surprised, then shrugged. “I just found out I’m going to meet someone…” those amber eyes glanced away “…a woman with whom I’ve had some contact, but never a face-to-face.”

      “A work contact?”

      He paused. “Personal.”

      Not about to give the impression that she was interested in Sullivan’s love life, Judith decided not to probe, but she was caught off-guard by the sudden warmth flooding her. After all, she was in a similar situation. She’d just received a letter from the man with whom she’d been corresponding, and now his words played in her mind. I can’t believe you picked the bridge by Bethesda Fountain as our meeting place. When I was a kid, I learned to roller-skate there, and we—by we, I mean my parents and brothers—always stopped on that bridge for hot pretzels when we visited the Central Park Zoo. Believe it or not, when I’m stumped, I still go there, just to think. The bridge has been special to me for years….

      She felt the same way, but for different reasons. Years ago, when she’d first come to Manhattan, she’d stood there, staring down at the pond, fountain and boathouse, and she’d made hard decisions about her future. Then she’d walked down to the fountain and tossed in pennies—nearly all the money she’d had at the time—and she’d made the wish that had guided her ever since, to follow in the footsteps of people who fought for justice.