Warning and disclaimer in Chapter 1


        Hillary absent-mindedly rubbed the ink from her fingers as she paced the length of the cell, thinking about the case. "Why does it seem like we keep running into brick walls?"

        Amy shrugged, lounging on the cot. "At least we got a pretty nice cell."

        Hillary tapped on the bars, trying to think. "Okay, what do we have... a cab driver that takes us all over California before we get to the right address... We have a man who claims his friend was kidnapped who disappears on us the second we turn around... We have absolutely NOTHING on Kaitlin Finch's death... and to top it all off," she muttered, fishing something out of her pocket, "Our main suspect is one of the weirdest junkies I've ever seen."

        Amy sat up. "What is that?"

        "A canister I found in the kitchen. It's a bunch of blue water and some syringes."

        Amy frowned. "How did you get that past the police?"

        Hillary revealed the box she had hidden the syringes and water in. "TAMPAX." She smiled. "The cops didn't want to touch it."

        Amy smiled, then took the tube holding the blue water. "The question is... what kind of freak shoots up with Windex?"


        Hobbes groaned. His arm was sore where the tube entered it and he could feel a burning sensation spreading across his torso.

        Stark stood over him and said, "Darien will be notified with your condition. I hope he cares as much about you as you think he does."

        He smiled and left the room.


        Claire answered the insistent ringing of her cell phone as they pulled up in front of Arnaud's warehouse. "Hello?"

        "Claire, hon... Eberts is asking questions about you."

        "Oh, bloody hell. What did you say?"

        "Nothing. I didn't tell him anything. Where are you? I want to help with whatever is going on." Claire gave her the address. "Hold on, hon. I'm on my way. I love you."

        Claire's heart leapt in her chest. "I... love you, too."

        She hung up, climbing out of the car. Rubyn glared at the warehouse and said, "This Arnaud guy... he's pretty bad?"

        Darien nodded. "He's bad, all right."

        Rubyn sneered. "I can be worse. Let's do this."


        Eberts' computer screen lit up with Claire's phone log. It had been updated in the last few minutes. A 45 second call... from Alex Monroe. Eberts turned the computer off and left his office, grabbing his jacket as he went.



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