Leo’s Central Station, an imposing building located in the downtown area, a few minutes past 7:30 a.m. As I entered the lobby, a tall, slender, sandy-haired man rose from the bank of chairs and started toward me. He was wearing a navy pin-striped suit that draped nicely on his tall frame, a white button-down shirt, and a navy and yellow striped tie, and was carrying an expensive leather briefcase. He extended his free hand. “Nora Charles? I’m Peter Dobbs.” He grinned, slow and easy. “The description Daniel gave me was spot-on. Beautiful redhead, hourglass figure, snapping green eyes, walks with confidence—it fits you to a tee.” Heat seared my cheeks as I shook his hand. “Wow, I’m at a loss. Daniel didn’t describe you at all, Mr. Dobbs.” He held up one hand. “It’s Peter. Mr. Dobbs is what folks call my father—or my uncle.” He had a manner about him one couldn’t help but find appealing, and in spite of the situation I found myself grinning.
