The interruption had broken the spell and Diane was moving fast now. She left some change on the table and headed for the door, coat trailing behind her as she made her way past the other patrons. One quick glance at the corner as she stepped outside told her that Denby hadn't stirred.

It was cold outside and Diane pulled on her coat as she half ran down the street. Her throat tightened and the tears started coming again, but this time she fought them back and made her way home.

It was no use trying to get to sleep. Harry Denby's stirring voice and shocked face was keeping her wide awake. Every effort she had made to disengage him from her mind had failed on the way back to her apartment, and she was fuming in frustration. Diane had hung up her coat, put her gun in the drawer next to her bed and began pacing.

"Unbelievable," she grumbled to herself. "How does he do it?" She threw off her shoes and tossed them in the general direction of the closet. "Isn't there anywayto get rid of this guy?" Her belt and slacks came next. She muttered defiantly to herself as she walked around to the other side of the bed and turned on the electric blanket with a vicious twist.

The air in the apartment was cold and Diane shivered as she made her way down the hall. Wincing against the bright light of the bathroom, she removed her remaining clothes and left them in a pile on the floor. As the hot shower rained down her skin she let her shoulders drop and tried to clear her mind.

"Just forget about it. Doesn't mean a thing. Don't think...just listen to the water."

The steam rose and filled the room. Diane swayed back and forth under the soothing stream. After about twenty minutes fatigue began to set in. Her eyes felt heavy.

She turned off the shower and padded back to her bedroom in her white t-shirt and socks. The clock's glowing, orange numbers reminded her that it was well after midnight. She sighed as she pulled the warm blankets around her and let her damp hair spill out on the pillow. Silence filled the room. She emptied her mind by focusing on the comforting sensations of bedtime; the texture of the sheets against her slender legs, the faint aroma of lavender from the sachet on the nightstand, the cool air on her face.

She drifted away, losing awareness.

Sleep overcame her tired body.

Blessed sleep.