Sharp rap of high-heeled boots echoed on cobbles, headed toward the Riverview Clinic. Monday, an hour or so after noon, when Morana arrived to keep her appointment. Sable hair streaked with amber, eyes the color of clover honey, her features were subtly different than they had been in the Inn when she had arranged the meeting with the good Doctor Valkanon. A touch younger, more innocent " less seductive, and more wholesome.

Well-armed for the tour and interview with a fresh pen, a clean notebook, and a mental file of knowledge dug from every legitimate and illegitimate source Morana could find; her smile was winning as she passed through the front entrance. She waited by the receptionist's desk with every appearance of cheerful patience as the worn-looking red-haired woman finished a phone call.

Dressed in dark khaki pants over the dark brown high-heeled boots and a bronze silk wrap top, Morana's clothing was business-like without being formal. Her body language screamed confidence and warmth as she offered her hand to the receptionist, nails enameled with a faintly opalescent bronze sheen. "Hello! My name is Morana, and I'm to meet with Doctor Valkanon for a tour of the clinic and an interview."

Honey eyes flicked down to the name-plate on the desk and then back to the woman's face, her smile warming another fraction. Very friendly, very likable. "When I'm done with the tour, Phyllia, would it be all right if I asked you some questions about what it's like to work here" You seem very competent, and I think it would interest our readers to understand what draws people to give their time and energy to the Clinic."

A faint tilt of her head to one side. It was a very subtle gesture of appeal, one that said without words, "I need help, and you are the only person who can help me. Won't you please"" Very slight, that motion " precisely calculated, but subtle enough to appear as a natural gesture, one so faint as to work on the subconscious. Honey-dark eyes gleamed as she waited for the receptionist's reply.

Pen freed from its resting place hooked on the collar of her shirt, jotted a short note of Phyllia's name and occupation. Morana looked up, smiled at the receptionist. "Thank you " I appreciate it." It was evident, the pleasure in her voice that Phyllia had agreed to the interview. Only once she finished that did she turn to Dr. Valkanon.

Smile turned up a notch " as if Maranya was her favorite person in the world. Honey eyes sparkled with warmth. She was very, very good at making a person feel liked, trusted " in return, most people usually returned with their confidences. Morana gave another of those faint head-tilts. "Well, I'm sure you're used to people asking to see the ER and the pediatrics ward, but I like to change things up a little. Could we start with your administrative staff" Aides, accounts and billing, supply?"

Never mistake the investigative journalist for a fool. The innocence, the enthusiasm " she'd studied a rival reporter carefully to replicate the mannerisms. It threw people off, expecting her to take things at face value. The request to start with the support structure was precisely aimed. If there was a weakness in the Clinic, Morana already knew it wasn't in quality of care.

Despite the good Doctor's suspension " and that too would receive questions before the end of the tour. Not now, however. "Also, I'd love it if you could tell me a little bit about your previous fundraisers." Pen held ready to take notes, she appeared perfectly willing to follow the Doctor while writing. Her smile was wide and friendly, and honey eyes held subtle laughter.

"Dry and dusty maybe, but it's all details " and they do say the devil is in the details." Something about that remark was particularly amusing " sunny smile warmed with true humor. Cryptic notes recorded every word of Maranya's explanations, along with comments about expressions and responses. Dr. Valkanon's expansive gesture toward the door could be taken as an invitation to enter " and was, whether it was meant that way or not. Morana breezed through the door before the Doctor's final question could reach her ears.

Honey eyes scanned the paths and more importantly, the workers busy at their desks. Latched on one man, colorless and bland, hunched over his keyboard, stack of papers at his elbow. Receipts to be scanned and entered into that computer system Dr. Valkanon was so proud of, presumably. Heeled boots didn't click on the carpeting in this section, so when she hitched herself up comfortably against his desk, the man was taken by surprise.

Kick-swing of one boot, faint head-tilt, bright smile " it was like killing a fly with an elephant gun. In less than five minutes, not only did Morana know the man's name (Adam Westfell) and position (data entry clerk), but also his family situation (none) and hobbies (interstellar stamp collecting). So easy to make people trust. Especially the lonely, the unloved. Morana listened to them, not just patiently endured their presence. She was beautiful, and attentive, and fascinated by every word Mr. Westfell spoke. In response, he kept speaking.

Her bronze-sheened nails tapped lightly on the receipts, and Adam was happy to marvel over the Administration Director's odd behavior of two months before, when he pulled every hard-copy receipt the Clinic possessed instead of just looking them up on the computer. The gossip Adam had heard about Mr. Amat and Lorelei, the angry letters sent back and forth between Billing and the bank, and who was sleeping with whom on the staff. She listened to it all, and took notes on most.

By the time Morana breezed back out of the IT wing, Mr. Westfell was planning a date for next Sunday (which she had no intention of keeping, but he fervently believed in). Her notebook had three more pages filled with unreadable scribbles, and pen tapped lightly against her lower lip. She beamed at Maranya. "I'm sorry to take so long, but I was just having the most fascinating conversation. Your computer system is very modern; I have to compliment you on that."

"And now that the details are out of the way, I'd be thrilled if you could show me where the work gets done " maybe the ER" I understand you're quite the ER tech yourself." Morana's eyes widened with a look of faint dismay, and she made a brief moue of apology. "I'm sorry, I had forgotten about the suspension. Perhaps you'd like to tell your side of the story for the readers?"