�Okay, Denby, I�ll play.� Diane looked at Denby, and he met her eyes with the most intense gaze she had ever seen. His hazel eyes were clear and lucid for once, and he was studying her intently. The hair on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end. She had never felt so vulnerable, nor so oddly attracted to someone before. Her blood turned to ice.

�Okay. Okay. Fine.� Diane paced again, searching for words in every corner of the room. She grew more and more frustrated as the heart monitor continued on its psychotically monotonous pace. Her own heart was beating in her throat. She was terrified that Denby would somehow use this information to worsen the situation.

�Diane, I have all the time in the world,� Denby gently prodded her.

�Well, I don�t!� she snapped. She knew she didn�t have to say that. Denby could read that in her demeanor. She still wasn�t completely sure how good a cop he was. But she knew he had those piercing �cop�s eyes,� just like Al Pacino had in that movie �Sea of Love.� Everyone just knew he was a cop when they met him because his eyes bored into everyone and everything like laser beams. And Denby hadn�t stopped studying her like that since she walked in. He wasn�t staring at the bricks next door. He was studying her reflection in that damn window as nightfall had turned it into a mirror.

�Jill�s missing.�

�I thought that was part of the plan.�

�Well, she was supposed to pick up Frank first. Danny redialed his cell phone to check up on her, and called your old girlfriend. Frank was still there. And there�s no sign of Jill or Kyle. When we checked out her place, all her suitcases were tossed around the bedroom, partially packed. The TV was on. It looked like there had been a struggle in the living room. And�� Diane�s voice caught as she fought back tears furiously. Denby was not getting the satisfaction of seeing her cry right now.

�What else happened, Diane? Was there any note? A ransom call? Forced entry? Bullet holes?� Harry�s voice sounded almost as urgent as her own now.

�The door was not jimmied, but the chain was broken.� Again, Diane had to catch her breath.

�So, she opened the door to a familiar face, who turned out to be not so friendly. Tell me about the struggle. What did it look like?� With laser beam accuracy, Denby had zeroed in on the most potent issue.

�There was blood. Jill�s blood type. On the table and the rug.�

�A lot of blood, or just a little?�

�For God�s sake, Denby! Am I here for your amusement? What difference does it make? She�s obviously been struggling for her life!�