The man just didn't give up, did he?

Rachel James jogged through a local playground in her west Boston neighborhood, keeping her gaze front and center so as not to make eye contact with the reporter she'd been secretly meeting with for weeks now. While huffing out a cloud of oxygen as her breath met the crisp November afternoon, she concentrated on maintaining her pace, blocking out her frustrations with a cleansing rush of adrenaline.

Still...it was inevitable. Every second brought her closer to Ian Beck, who had his arms draped with arrogant patience over the back of the bench he sat on. Stretching his long, jeans-clad legs in front of him, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and grinned at her.

Even though she tried not to look, she did. Immediately, a zing of — what was it, more adrenaline? — shot through her. Her belly tied itself into electric knots.

Butterflies from a brisk jog?

She really didn't want to admit to anything more. "Gorgeous day for a run," Beck said as she passed him. "Or another interview."

Instead of answering, Rachel merely held up a hand in a civil yet discouraging greeting. Wrong time to dog her with more questions. She was too nervous about tomorrow, dreading what might happen to her good friend and mentor, Professor Gilbert Harrison, at his board hearing.

Besides, she'd given the reporter enough information already. As it became more and more obvious that the university was out to fry Gilbert, Rachel had taken matters into her own hands by talking to Ian Beck in private, without the knowledge of her friends. Getting their approval for her "rescue Gilbert" plan had seemed much too complicated at the time; it would have been argued and debated to death by committee while Gilbert's situation grew worse. Rachel had only seen the positives in quietly feeding Ian Beck good news about her former teacher. So she'd told him every heartwarming Gilbert anecdote she could think of. She'd been very vocal about the college administration's obvious vendetta against every-one's favorite faculty member, and Ian Beck seemed to eat it all up.

And why not? This was scandal at its best: a former English professor and baseball coach fallen from grace, faced with gossip-worthy charges like "grade changing" and "suspicious fraternization with students," among other damning claims. Though the conduct board purported the need to "discover the truth" about the ultrapopular professor, Rachel knew what was really going down. The administration wanted him fired.

No two ways about it.

Loyalty to Gilbert had demanded that Rachel and a group of ex-students accept his plea to return to Saunders University, to stand up for him as character witnesses. A few of them had gone even further, attempting to clear the professor's name by seeking out evidence of the good works he'd accomplished.

But that's when Jane Jackson, Rachel's friend and Gilbert's administrative assistant, had uncovered surprising information about the older man — items that had been locked away in a secret safe. Ledgers featuring cryptic notations. Stacks of highly personal documents about the students he'd helped over the years.

Mysteries.

Jane had delivered one of these personal documents to Rachel without informing Gilbert that it had been taken. For all they knew, he hadn't peered into that safe in months, and they were hoping it would stay that way until they figured out what to do about all the information they'd uncovered.

As Rachel jogged farther away from the reporter, her pace faltered, her mind filled by the image of one particular document that Gilbert had been hiding. A private document that spun her world upside down and made her wonder if she could ever trust him again.

Her very own adoption papers.

Not for the first time — or, she thought, the last — Rachel wondered just what her mentor was up to and why it was his business to have such intimate information about her.

What was he up to? Was he indeed the kind confidant she'd depended on all these years? Or, if he wasn't her trusted friend, then who was he and what did he have up his sleeve?

Measuring her breathing, Rachel expelled another huff and tried to shove the disturbing questions out of her mind. But they only swirled around in there, a screaming flock of discomfort.

Part of the reason she didn't want to talk to Ian Beck today was because she had no idea what she'd tell him about Gilbert now that her adoption papers had been found. Thus, these past few weeks, Rachel had pulled back from the journalist, refusing his requests for more meetings. She was too confused, too shaken by her doubts.

In fact, she couldn't even summon the courage to talk to her once-beloved teacher about any of it.

She rounded a corner, leaping over a pile of dead burnt- orange leaves that had gathered on the sidewalk. Autumn surrounded her, painting the sky gray, forcing her into sweats, long johns, gloves and a knit cap. As the sound of children playing on a swing set caught her attention, Rachel slowed her speed, grasping the chance to finally get her mind off Gilbert. She softly smiled at the way the mothers hugged their infants, at the way it all seemed so natural for some families....

But before she knew it, there were footsteps hitting the pavement behind her. Another jogger or —

She glanced over her shoulder.

Yes, Beck was persistent.