Ghostly white and breathing hard, Diane ran into the apartment looking for Harry. "WHERE IS HE? What happened?" she yelled as she darted from room to room. Miguel flew in and passed her on his way straight to Harry's bedroom. Wilde nodded and Diane ran after the bird toward a room at the back of the apartment.

To her horror, she saw Harry sprawled out on the bed in his old police uniform. He was draped over the side of the bed, completely limp and surrounded by crumpled papers and empty booze bottles. "NO!" she gasped as she fell at his side. There was a scribbled note on the night stand taking blame for Don's murder and Harry's pale hand still held the pen.

She began to cry and scream at the same time, still not believing her eyes. Struggling to roll him over, she pulled at the bed covers with all her strength and called his name over and over. Finally he was on his back, and she could see his sweat drenched face. His beautifully polished badge was pinned to his chest pocket, next to a Marine Corps insignia.

Taking his head in her hands she yelled, "Wake up! Don't you do this Harry Denby!"

He did not respond, but she thought she could feel a faint pulse. Sliding her fingers down his neck she felt again and held her breath. One...two...three...it was very weak, but it was there. She put her head to his chest and listened. His breathing was deathly shallow.

Oh God, he's alive! She kissed his forehead and began to frantically undo his tight tie and collar. "Wilde! Get in here and help me! He's NOT dead. Where is that ambulance anyway?"

There was no answer, but Diane was too occupied with getting Harry's shirt off so the ambulance personnel could start an IV right away. Her mind was racing as she fought the buttons and she kept saying, "It's all right now, Harry. Don't give up. Stay with me."

"I wish you hadn't done that, Detective Russell." She looked up to see Wilde standing in the doorway, slowly screwing a silencer cap onto his gun. "Personally, I don't have much of a stomach for killing women, even if you are a cop. I mean, you're still the weaker sex and it doesn't seem fair somehow."

Wilde walked into the room slowly and continued, "I tried my best to keep you out of it and if you had just waited another half and hour this would all be settled... for everyone. Now, Kirkendall, that was different. I think even you would agree that he was in serious need of disposal."

Diane sat back with Harry's head in her lap." You killed Don, and now you were setting up Denby?"

"Simple and neat. That's my style. Now, lets get this over with shall we..."

As Wilde raised his gun, Miguel flew over to perch on his arm, startling him for a spit second. That was all Diane needed. She snatched up her gun from the side of the bed and fired two shots as Wilde waved the bird off. He was hit twice in the lower left side and he fell back into the door frame, groaning in pain. In a blur of motion, Diane quickly rolled off the bed, keeping her gun pointed at the prone man and moved toward him.