Diane returned, carrying a small bag. As she and Harry turned to leave with Baldwin, Fancy called out, "You did all right here tonight, you two. We'll get these guys. You can be certain of that."

That is the ugliest shade of pink I have ever seen. Diane's mouth hung open as she walked in a circle, surveying the decor of her hotel room. She thought about all the other witnesses that had been sent to these accommodations by the department before her and vowed to strongly suggest that another hotel might be selected in the future. This is torture. It's like ...like Pepto-Bismol. Stomach churning pink. Everywhere.

"This do for the night?" Baldwin leaned in the doorway. He had dragged out a pink chair from the room and set it out in the hallway for his watch.

"Yeah, Baldwin. Fine. You need anything else?"

"Naw. Greg will be here in a couple hours. If either of us needs to talk to you, we'll knock five times. You get some rest. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks."

It was silly, but she did feel safer knowing he was there. She wasn't expecting her fear to still be hanging on, but it was. Protecting others was her job and she had learned to control and use the stress that it involved. But now she felt vulnerable and that made her angry.

All the way over in the car she had felt Denby's eyes burning into the back of her head. She had opted to sit up front with Baldwin, and Harry had kept absolutely silent in the back. No clever repartee, no further explanations. Nothing. The suspense was killing her.

Diane set down her bag on the pink bedspread and opened it. After removing her things she hesitated, then pulled out the remaining item.

A man's shirt. Bobby's shirt to be exact.

At the last moment before leaving her bedroom at her apartment, it occurred to her that Harry might need a clean shirt for tomorrow. At the time it seemed a practical, friendly gesture. But now, as she held up the carefully pressed button down, she second guessed her impulse.

Just then she her three knocks at her door, and she dropped the shirt back into her bag as if she were hiding some sort of contraband. She turned to open the door but stopped. Didn't Baldwin say five knocks?

The she heard it again, three knocks, but more softly this time and not coming from the front door as she had thought. Diane turned around and noticed the adjoining door to the next hotel room for the first time. It was located unobtrusively next to the dresser, and painted the same shade of pink as the wall.