The Pause Part 1: The Discovery
By Joni

“Wh-where’s Mom?” Alex glanced around urgently for some sign of Monica. There was nothing.
Chandler looked at her with his mouth twister into a queer little knot. “That’s a good question,” he replied. “I thought you might know the answer.”
“She didn’t leave the room!” Alex cried insistently. “I could have sworn. Darren and I have been sitting outside the door for-forever! We were, in fact, growing quite restless to tell the truth.”
“Well she’s certainly not here!” Chandler pointed out. “If she didn’t leave by the door, she must have left -“
Both of them turned to face the balcony.
“But I was out there.” Chandler shook his head in confusion. “I just don’t understand.”
Yawning from exhaustion, Alex piped up. “I bet you weren’t out there the whole time - excuse me for yawning - the whole time Mom was in here. Frankly, the party was a little bland without you there. . . . I sent her up here a little earlier than you and Aunt Joey requested. There would be a span of about twenty minutes that she could have used to escape.”
“Okay, then. But the question is, is that not a little over-dramatic? What exactly was she escaping from?”
Alex shrugged and collapsed on Monica’s four-poster bed. In her honest opinion, it was too late an hour to get involved in her parents’ little soap opera.
“What was that crunching sound?” Chandler looked up alertly.
“I landed on some sort of paper,” Alex answered. She rolled over and picked up the crumpled paper.
“For haven’s sake, read it!” Chandler cried. “It might be a note from Mom!”
Alex yawned again. “ ‘scuse me! Yeah, whatever.” She unfolded the note and smoothed over the ripples. Then she began:

Born is a human with a kung-fu spine
Equipped with a detector of what’s on your mind.
You jive, you shuck, you bob, you weave
And when you’re down you’ve got something up your sleeve.

And you’ve got it good
As bad as it gets.
You make your own incisions
That come with regrets.

You’re in it to win it
And make every minute count.
You put it all together and
Dish it out.

Hey, I know where you’re from -
It makes it that much nicer to meet you.
Hey, I know what you’ve done -
It makes it that much better to defeat you.

All that knowledge
All those skills
All the gas it takes to get on top of the hill.
And while the others try to take your spot
You wanna make them stop but you gotta make them stop.

Would you do anything?
Whatever it takes?
Jacks in the road, yeah,
Fix the brakes.
It’s the instinct that’s got us locked up tight
And it’s the madness that’s keeping us up all night.

Hey, I know where you’re from -
It makes it that much nicer to meet you.
Hey, I know what you’ve done -
It makes it that much better to defeat you.

It’s what we are
It’s what we are
It’s what we are

Born is a human with mechanics to win
Born is machine with a human tucked in.
You jive, you shuck, you jab, you stick.
You’re calling out for help when it gets too thick.
Your honour, your honour, it’s not me.
It’s the invisible visible evil powers that be.
Untraceable, insatiable, having to feed.
Yeah, you cry when you’re wounded and you laugh when they bleed. . . .

Hey, I know where you’re from -
It makes it that much nicer to meet you.
Hey, I know what you’ve done -
It makes it that much better to defeat you.

“Hm. . . .” Alex wondered with a yawn. “It doesn’t make much sense, does it, Dad?”
A far-off look in his eyes, Chandler grabbed the poem from Alex’s hands. He did not look directly at it, but said, “This isn’t Monica’s hand-writing. . . . this isn’t something she would write. . . . no, princess, it doesn’t make much sense. ‘Defeat you. . . .’ “
Even at the wee hours of the morning, Alex’s mind was whirring. “Defeat. . . . isn’t that like a conquest - a conquering?”
Chandler nodded numbly.
“Al, what’s going on?”
Alex looked toward the door where Darren stood with a platter of cakes, fruits and other scrumptious-looking desserts. She wasted no time in explaining.
“My mom has been kidnapped.”

It was around midnight when Ben and Brook left the party. They ahd been trying to leave for a while, but kept getting trapped on their way to the door. After they left, they started down the street, with no particular destination in mind.
“Where are we going?” Brook finally asked Ben.
“I dunno,” Ben admitted. “Where do you want to go?”
“Umm... how about we go over to your uncle’s? You parents are probably there.”
Ben shrugged indifferent. “Sure, why not? We’re pretty close anyway.” He glanced at his watch. “Oh hey, Happy New Years.”
“Same to you,” Brook gave him a quick hug. “Oh, did you hear about Chandler and Monica?”
“No, what about them?” Ben asked eagerly. “Good news, I hope.”
“When I was over to babysit Joelana last week, Joey was over at Chandlers. She came back all excited, so I asked her what was going on. She told me she had caught Mon and Chandler fighting. Monica stormed out of the room and the she got Chandler to admitted to her that he and Mon were back together!”
“You’re kidding!” Ben replied, shaking his head in disbelief. Brook shook her head. “You’re not kidding?”
“Nope!”
“That’s awesome! I’m so happy for them!”Ben replied.
“Did you not hear what I said?” Brook questioned him, and Ben looked confused. “They were FIGHTING!”
“Noo...” Ben looked shocked. “Already?”
“Yeah, but then again, we don’t know how long they’ve been together this time.”
“That’s true,” Ben nodded. “Wow, look at all the cars!”
“No kidding,” Ben agreed. As they got closer to Chandler’s house, they began to notice that some of the cars were sporting flashing lights. “What do you thinkgs going on?” Brook asked.
Ben shook his head, “Come on, I have a bad feeling about this!” He grabbed Brook’s hand, and they broke into a run. As they approached the house, they noticed that most of the guests were leaving.
They hurried into the house and found Ross, Rachel, Chandler, Alex, Darren, some police officers and the rest of Chandler’s close friends gathered in the living room. Chandler was sitting with his head in his hands, and Alex was crying, with Darren trying to comfort her. Everyone looked very upset, but looked up with hopeful eyes when they entered the room.
“What’s going on?” Brook asked.
“Yeah, where’s Monica?” Ben added. At that statement Chandler let out a moan, and Alex started to cry harder. “What did I say?” Ben asked quickly.
“Come here,” Ross led the two of them out of the room. He held up his hand. “Let me tell you what I know first, then you can ask questions.” Ben and Brook nodded and Ross started to tell them about Monica’s disappearance. After he finished, and they had asked all their questions, they went back into the room. The police took down Ben and Brook’s names and asked them a few questions before turning back to Chandler.
“Are you sure she was in her room?” One of the police officers repeated.
“Of course we’re sure!” Alex shouted. “How many times do we have to tell you. My dad had arranged something with Joey, so Darren and I were suppose to send my mom up to her room at a specific time. We were bored so we sent her up a little early, but we sat infront of her door like we were suppose to! She couldn’t have left the room. We would have known if she did!”
“Yeah!” Darren nodded in agreement.
“What was the plan?” the police turned to Chandler and Gjoey.
“Well...” Chandler started, he glanced at Gjoey and she nodded encouragingly. “Mon and I have been dating again.” Chandler paused when Alex gasped. He looked over at his daughter, ignoring the looks that the rest of his friends were sending to each other. Most were ‘it’s about time’ looks and ‘ahhh.. I thought so!’ or ‘Mon never tells me anything anymore!’ Actually, the last look belonged to Rachel. “We didn’t tell you cos we weren’t sure if it was going to work out. We didn’t want you to have to go through everything if it didn’t work out.”
Alex didn’t say a word, she just turned away from her dad so he couldn’t see her face. Darren moved closer to her and gave her a hug. Chandler sighed, but continued on, turning back to the officers..
“A couple of days ago we had a small fight, and Joey heard us. Monica stormed out upset and so I asked Joey what she thought I could do to make things better again. She had the idea of doing a Cyrano de Bergerac type thingy, cos Monica’s got a balcony in her room, so it would work out perfectly.” Chandler paused for a moment, and Joey rested her hand on his shoulder, he smiled half heartedly at his sister. “Alex and Darren were going to send Mon to her room and then I’d,” Chandler paused again embarrassed. “Then I’d preform my own balcony scene. Unfortuantely, when I did it, she didn’t come onto the balcony, so I climbed up and entered her room, the door was unlocked, and well, you know the rest. She wasn’t there!”
“What about you, Joey? Did you see anything?”
“Nope, but then again I was watching Chandler the whole time. I think she must have already been gone by the time we got to her room.”
The police nodded, and just before they could ask another question they were interrupted.
“Daddy? Mommy?” a small voice called out as it entered the room. Everyone turned to face the door and saw Dereck standing there in his pajama’s, hair tussled from being asleep.
Chandler stood up and walked over to his son. He picked him up and carried him back to his chair. “Why are you up Dereck?” Chandler asked his son, sitting down with his son in his lap. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“Nope,” Dereck shook his head cheerfully. “Too lowd to sweep! Where mommy?”
“Mommy’s not here right now,” Chandler replied, trying to hide the emotions he felt when he said this. He didn’t want Dereck to worry about the situation. Not this early in the game. “It’s really late Dereck, you need to sleep. I’ll come tuck you in again, okay?”
Dereck nodded, sticking his thumb back into his mouth.
Chandler turned to the officers. “I’ll be right back.” The police nodded and Chandler left the room carrying Dereck. As they left the room, everyone could hear Dereck little voice question why there are powice officers there. 

Chandler returned a few minutes later, and they got back down to business. The police continued to ask them all questions for another hour, until Chandler interrupted them.
“Okay look, we’re obviously not getting anything done right now,” Chandler spoke up. “Can we finish the questions in the morning?”
The police officers looked at each other and shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Good,” Chandler nodded, then stood up and walked over to Alex. “Alex, princess, you need to go to bed now.”
Alex didn’t reply, just turned away from her dad so her back was too him again.
“Alex...” Chandler tried again, but Alex refused to look at him. Chandler sighed, tears appearing his eyes. He looked over at his friends who were all looking back at him sympathetically. Ben stood up and headed over to Chandler and Alex. “Let me try,” Ben whispered to his uncle.
“Hey Alex,” Ben sat down by his cousin. Alex didn’t reply, so Ben tried again. “Alex, why don’t we go down to the TV room?”
Alex didn’t reply but she stood up and headed out of the room, Ben followed after her.
Down in the TV room, Ben tried to get Alex to talk, but she refused, so he put on a movie for the two to watch. About 20 minutes into the movie, Alex fell asleep, so Ben picked her up and carried her to her room.
Meanwhile, Alicia and Andrew stood up. “Come on Darren, we should get you home to bed,” Alicia told her son. “Chandler, we’ll come back tomorrow morning, okay?” Chandler just nodded mutely and watched as they left the room. Phoebe and Phillip followed after them, as well as Joey and Joey (after they collected Joelana from one of the upstairs bedrooms). Soon only Rachel, Ross, Brook and Chandler where in the room.
“So... how was the party?” Rachel asked Brook, to break the silence.
“Boring,” Brook replied. “I can’t even remember why we wanted to go.”
“Oh.”
“I put Alex to bed,” Ben stated as he walked into the room.
Chandler looked up, “Did she say anything?”
Ben shook his head. “She didn’t want to talk so I put a movie on and she fell asleep almost instantly.”
Chandler let his head fall. Not only had he lost Monica, it appeared that he was losing his daughter as well.
“Chandler,” Ross moved over beside his friend. “Don’t worry about it, she’ll come around. It was just a shock.”
Chandler tried to smile, but failed and Ross patted his friend on the back.
“Look Chandler, we’ll come back tomorrow to see how everything’s going. But we’ve got to get home, it’s really late.”
Rachel, Brook and Ben stood up and moved over to the two. “Bye Chandler, Good-Bye, See ya tomorrow,” they all chorused before leaving the house to go home.

“This is too weird.” Sam glanced from Alex’s face to the slightly-crumpled paper clutched in Alex’s hands, then back to Alex.
It was New Year’s Day, and all was not well. The police had been notified several hours ago of Monica’s disappearance, but at the present had done nothing. Sam had invited herself over as soon as the news had gotten out, and she sat in Alex’s bedroom lending a sympathetic ear as Alex relayed her emotions.
“I know, Sammie, I know. And I’m just so worried about Mom. Sometimes I just wish this whole thing would end. I know it sounds crazy, but ever since I met my father, weird things like this happen. It started off with Dad asking Mom to marry him. Too weird. I mean, just saying that is so absolutely queer. Who says, ‘Last night my dad asked my mom to marry him.’ Like, it’s absolutely unreal. In general, moms and dads are already married.”
Sam listened sympathetically as Alex continued.
“Then, wouldn’t you know it, Mom won’t do it. She runs out for absolutely no reason as if there’s something he can’t give her. How lame is that? The whole charade could have stopped there, but no. . . . it had to continue. The whole thing is long and dragging that I don’t even remember  what happened next! But eventually Dereck is born. How the heck that happened I’ll never know! I mean, Mom couldn’t even marry the guy but she’s willing to have two children with him?! What’s up with that?” Alex took a deep breath. It calmed her only a sliver. “Okay. I know that she didn’t plan on me and she didn’t plan on Dereck, but she must have known what was happening! It’s so unbelievably stupid! And then the even more unbelievably stupid father of mine doesn’t believe that he would do such a thing, so of course Mom is totally to blame and Dereck is not his son. It makes me just want to scream!!!”
“Um, Al, you are screaming.”
“I know! I know! And do you know why? Because then he went and got himself a Miss Foxy Lady Kirsten just like any other sick old Hollywood director. What a sicko! He abandoned my mother for that piece of crap? Why? Why, I ask you, why? And then, to anger Mom further, he had to go and get Dereck some DNA tests. What is up with that? Why couldn’t he just believe her? Because he’s stubborn! And so is she, darn it! He kept fighting, but then she wanted to win the fight! So she whisks me and Dereck off to some not-on-the-map one-horse Californian town where Dad is sure never to find us! We sit there a year; my grades dwindle because, to disguise me, we must place me in a different grade. Mom gets lonely and runs to some stupid guy that used to stalk my friend and her mom. How’s that for brains? Finally Dad figures it out, but only because of a letter I wrote to Darren. We come back here, Mom and Dad fall in love but for some reason keep it a secret! Why??? I’ll never know! Then they have a little tiff over who knows what and before Dad can win Mom’s heart back, she disappears. It is never-ending, I tell you, and I am not happy about it!!!”
“I know, Alex, I know. I’m sorry I can’t do anything to help you.”
Alex sat silently for a moment, seemingly dwelling in her own problems.
“But wait!” she cried, surprising Sam. “Of course you can do something to help me! You can do plenty to help me!”
“I can. . . ?”
“Sure you can!”Alex jumped up in excitement. “You’re a mystery buff! You always solve Nancy Drew mysteries before Nancy does, and -“
“Nancy never even solves the mystery,” Sam broke in, her views breaking to the surface. “At the end of the book, the bad guy does something to her and she sees the person and they tell her everything they did, because they think she’s going to die. She never actually solves it. She says she’s a detective but -“
“Sam, listen to me! You’re great at things like this. You know things; you can read deeply into things. Why, I bet you could find dozens of clues in just this note we found on Mom’s bed.”
“I don’t know, Al, I’m not as good as you make me out to be. . . .”
“But yes you are!” Alex argued. “Leave you alone for fifteen minutes with this piece of paper and I bet you’ll know where Mom is and who is holding her hostage. Come on. We’ll make a bet of it. If you can’t find any clues, then I’ll eat this note.”
“But that’s evidence,” Sam warned. “If the cops ever get their butts out of the donut shop, they might need that.”
“See what I mean? You think of stuff like that!”
Alex thrust the note into Sam’s hands and flopped back on her bed to watch a master at work.
“I still don’t know, Al. . . .”
“Just do it!”
Sighing, Sam read over the poem. Then she read it again. And again. After her fourth time, she looked at Alex.
Alex’s eyes shone. “So?”
Sam cleared her throat. She had finally decided to take this seriously. If it was so important to Alex, she would do her best to find Alex’s mother. “The first thing I noticed is the group of repeated lines. ‘Hey, I know where you’re from - It makes it that much nicer to meet you. Hey, I know what you’ve done - It makes it that much nicer to defeat you.’ The ‘defeat you’ portion at the end has a sort of ring to it that makes that part stand out. That makes me wonder if maybe the person who kidnapped her has some sort of perversion of wanting to beat her or win. Repeatedly throughout the poem, there is a mention of how whoever the poem is directed at - assumingly your mom - always wins and has things go her way. If that is the case, this person is probably not very close to her, because they don’t realize all the terrible things that are going on in her life right now. This person is probably also very jealous of her because they seem to think she always wins. This line here, ‘And while the others try to take your spot You wanna make them stop but you gotta make them stop’ has Kirsten written all over it. Kirsten tried to ‘take Monica’s spot’ but she didn’t make it. Right?”
Alex nodded, awed by how much Sam could read into a mere poem.
“There are many suspects,” Sam concluded. “Kirsten is one, of course, because she tried to take the spot of Monica. Another would be that guy you told me about, what’s his name again - oh yeah, Bruce. He would be very jealous, especially since he was in love with your mom, and now she was just about to return to your dad. And the fact that he was found to have stalked your friend and her mom. Ooh, freaky. Another possibility crossed my mind, but I’m pretty sure we can rule that out - you mentioned earlier that your parents are very stubborn, and in some sort of competition which they both want to win. The mentions of the winning in the poem just reminds me of how you said that earlier. But I’m pretty sure it’s not your dad. That just wouldn’t make any sense.”
“Of course it doesn’t make sense!” Alex scoffed. “My dad wouldn’t do a thing like that!”
“You wanted to know what I got from the poem, Al. That’s part of what I got out of it. Sorry I can’t help you anymore.”
“That’s okay,” Alex replied softly. “You’ve helped me plenty.”
Tossing a queer look Alex’s way, Sam quickly went on, “Just let me keep this poem for awhile, and I’ll see what I can do, Al.”

The next two days passed slowly by, with Alex still refusing to talk to her dad unless absolutely necessary. Chandler tried not to show how much her behaviour was upsetting him, but he wasn’t as good an actor as she was.
Ross, Rachel, Phoebe, Phillip, Joey, Joey, Alicia and Andrew spent much time at his house, trying to cheer him up. Ben and Brook tried to talk to Alex, but to no success. She didn’t want to talk about her mom’s disappearance or why she was acting the way she was towards her dad.
It was Lionel’s day off when Sam and Darren phoned Alex. She picked up the phone, hoping that they could somehow make her feel better. “What’s up?” Alex asked softly.
“I’m having a sleepover tonight,” Sam replied. “Everyone’s coming. Can you come?”
“I-I I don’t want to go Sam,” Alex replied.
“Oh come on Al,” Darren exclaimed.
“Guys, I don’t want to,” Alex shook her head, forgetting for a moment they couldn’t see her. “I want to be hear in case something comes up.”
“Al, if something comes up your dad would phone us!” Sam replied.
“Come on Alex, I know your upset and all, but you need to try and relax,” Darren argued. “Just try and forget about all that’s happened for a night, please Al?”
“Fine,” Alex wasn’t in the mood to argue.
Joey, Phillip and Phoebe were sitting with Chandler in his office when Alex walked in holding the cordless phone. Chandler looked over at his daughter hopefully.
“Dad...” Alex paused, trying to avoid looking her dad in the eye. “Can I go to Sam’s for a sleepover? Everyone’s going.”
Chandler hid the sigh that wanted to escape. So she still wasn’t ready to talk to him. “Of course princess. Do you need me to drive you there? And what time will it be?”
“I’m suppose to be there by 5 tonight and Darren said they’d drive me.” Alex quickly hurried out of the room, not wanting to spend more time with her dad. She put the phone back to her ear as she left, and the adults could hear her chatting away with Darren and Sam, three way calling had become her and her friends favourite thing to do.
After Alex was out of earshot, Chandler let out his sigh. Phoebe, Phillip and Joey all looked over at him sympathetically.
“Oh Chandler,” Phoebe said as she moved behind Chandler and started to give him a massage. “Wow, you’re really tense.”
“Don’t worry about it man,” Joey told him. “She’s going to get over it Chandler. She’s just a kid, and almost a teenager. All teens act like that.”

That night as Alex gathered with her friends in Sam’s basement chatting, Alex was noticeably silent. At least Darren noticed, but everyone else was so busy that it passed them by. She sat in one corner, with a frown on her face and watched everyone else laugh. How could they laugh, when her mom was missing? How could they be HAPPY?
“Hey Alex,” Darren sat down beside her. “How come you’re not enjoying the par-tay?”
“What’s to enjoy?” Alex replied bitterly. “The fact that my mom is gone, or the fact that my mom and dad were DATING and they never told me? Think about Darren, they finally decided that maybe myself and everybody else was right, and decided to date, but they won’t even tell their own DAUGHTER!”
“I came here to have fun Al, and I think you should too, come on,” Darren dragged Alex over to the rest of their friends. They were just about to start a new game and everyone quickly included them. “ALEXIS!!” Alex snapped out of her daze to see Katie glaring at her.
“What?” Alex asked innocently.
“It’s YOUR turn!” Katie snapped.
“Oh, sorry...” Alex turned back to the board and tried to figure out what was going on. They were playing a new game and she hadn’t been paying much attention to the instructions.
“Come on Alexis, just go!” Katie said angrily.
“Hey, leave her alone,” Sam replied. “Her mom was probably KIDNAPPED.”
“Don’t you mean adult-napped?” Freddie tried to ease the tension.
“Whatever,” Sam replied. “Give her a break.”
Alex just watched her friends without comment. Everything that happened recently just seemed to go by in a blur, nothing ever seemed to be in focus.

They didn’t go to sleep until about one in the morning, but even after everyone else was asleep, Alex lay in her sleeping bag wide awake. Everything seemed to be speeding by her, like she was on the side of a hi-way and was watching as everything blurred by. It was getting to the point where Alex wasn’t sure she could handle it.
As she tossed and turned in her bed, an idea came to her. She slipped out of her sleeping bag, and quietly rolled it up. Changing back into her clothes, she grabbed her backpack and sleeping bag and left Sam’s house.
She walked down the familiar streets, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. The streets always looked so nice and inviting, but that was when it was light out. In the dark they looked unforgiving and Alex almost broke into a run. She tried to calm herself down, but that didn’t seem to have any affect.
Leaving Sam’s neighbourhood, she stood at the street corner waiting for the lights to change. After a couple of minutes, when it did, she crossed the street in a hurry and turned left down the road. She entered the second building and climbed the stairs.
At the top she stood in front of her old apartment, and wondered how she could get inside. She thought about knocking, after all, she’d come this far hoping to find that her mom was hiding there. But if her mom was there, someone else might be too. A couple moments later, Alex remembered that her mom had given her a key to keep in her backpack. She pulled the key from its pocket and inserted it in the lock. She twisted it, and tried the handle. Still locked.
She played with the key and lock for a couple of minutes, trying it different ways, but she couldn’t get the door to open. Just as she was about to give up, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Let me try.” a voice said from behind her.”

Although her mind placed the voice, Alex's first instinct was fight or flight. She leaped around, her heart throbbing in her chest. "Darren!"
"Sorry to frighten you Alex!" Darren put his arm around her shoulders. "I didn't mean to surprise you like that."
Surprise quickly converted to anger and Alex hastily shrugged Darren off. Without a reply, she slid her key into the doorknob and opened the door. Darren silently followed her into the house, biting back all the questions that threatened to come pouring from his inquisitive mind.
As soon as Darren was inside, Alex quickly slammed the door. "I don't want anyone to see me," she explained, even though she felt she did not owe an explanation to Darren or to anyone else.
She led him to the pantry, flicking on lights as she went. Inside was a cache of food still there.
"How old is this stuff?" Darren commented with distaste.
Choosing a small bag of ripple chips, Alex pointed to the expiry date which read that they were not yet ready for the trash. "Dry goods," Alex said coldly, "don't change much with age."
Next Darren trailed her up to her old bedroom. It was empty, but the scent was familiar; a slight scent of Alex still clung to the must. Alex sat herself against the wall opposite the small window, and gazed out at what she could see of the last stars. She did not open the bag of chips, instead she let it fall to the side out of mind. Clearing his throat but still restraining, Darren sat beside her.
No one spoke for a prolonged and tacit moment, but there was no necessity for words in that pause. Darren was understanding of Alex's needs, and while the noisy silence starved the air, she had no need for words.
A fat tear rolled down Alex's cheek. "I wanted so badly for my mother to be here," she said all at once. This time when Darren offered his comforting arm she accepted. "Why, Darren?" Pulling her eyes from the window, Alex looked to him. "Why do all these things happen to me? My mom is gone! She's missing! Her picture might as well be plastered on a milk carton or hanging in the post office. And no one even cares how I feel about this!"
Darren didn't dare say anything else. He could only offer his quiet ear now.
"As soon as we discovered her missing, everyone was at Dad's side, giving him support and ignoring me while they were at it! Well good for my parents that they were finally working out their problems, but I'm Mom's daughter! I'm the one that has lived with her and loved her for thirteen years and I'm the one that cares!" Bitterly, she added, "I must be the only one that cares. While everyone is feeling bad for Dad, no one has even thought about me or even about Mom!"
After another pregnant pause, Darren finally spoke up. "I'm so sorry Alex. Your whole life seems to be upside-down and downside-up. But Al - you have to believe that everyone cares about you. You're number one in almost everyone's heart!"
"But what about Dad?" Alex sniffed. "He's off in his own little world, without a concern for me. If I'm number one in his heart how come he hasn't been giving me any support?"
"Alex, I can't answer for your dad, but I know that he loves you. This time is tough for him too. Think of how many times he has lost your mom. He finally had her back, and now she's gone again! Can you imagine how that feels for him?"
Alex slowly shook her head. "But every time he lost her it was his own fault except for this time! Isn't he used to it by now anyway?"
Darren had no answer to this question because everything she said seemed to be true. He bit his lip. "Alex, everyone loves you. And so do I. Just don't forget that, and don't give up hope for Monica. I know we'll find her, and I'm sure there's a very reasonable explanation to all this."
"I don't know, Darren. It just doesn't seem right. If Mom were to leave on her own again, she would have taken me and Dereck along. This is a kidnapping ... and I don't think it's as simple as a reasonable explanation. I'm so worried, Darren; what if she's gone forever? I'll be stuck with my dad who won't even be a dad because he's moping about Mom, and there will be no point to anything. I want her back. I wish she were here ... oh, Darren, if only we had stayed in California. This is all my fault, isn't it! I shouldn't have let Dad convince us into coming back here. As soon as we got here, there were kidnappers lurking on our doorstep and now she's gone!"
"Alex, this is not your fault!" Darren jumped up, pulling Alex up with him. "Do you understand me? This is not your fault whatsoever! You're simply a - a vulnerable by-stander. And I'm sorry for it! You can't understand how sorry I am for it. But it is not your fault - and you have to believe it."
Sliding back to the floor, Alex looked up into Darren's eyes. "Y-you're right. This whole thing is stupid. It must seem so idiotic that I'm here moping - just like my father - in my old bedroom, when-"
"Oh, no, Al, I didn't mean to make you feel stupid." Darren sat beside her once more. "Don't feel bad that you want to run away. I'm sure it's very natural - so is feeling guilty. If you want to stay here for awhile, you should. It will give you time to heal."
"You really think so?"
"Yes, Al. I'll come and visit you if you think that's what you want to do. I'll support you whatever decision you make."
A slow smile spread across Alex's face. "You know that our whole conversation sounds really funny ..." She began to laugh aloud. "We sound like two adults, for gosh sake! 'It will give you time to heal' ... 'I'll support you whatever decision you make' ... this is too hilarious."
Darren snorted, catching the infection of laughter. "You're right, we sound so ... so ..."
"So silly!" Alex finished.
After their laughter died down to watery eyes, Darren turned to Alex. "There's something else though, isn't there, Al?"
Sighing, Alex looked back at him. "Yeah, there's always something else. Darren, I can't stand Katie. She's always hanging all over you and - and you're my best friend! And she always has some nasty comment tomake about me or my family or Jane or Sam ... she's just a general thorn in the side. And she's making my life miserable, Dar!"
"Oh ..." Darren felt a bit embarrassed, and he gulped; he usually enjoyed the attention he received from Katie.
"I'm sorry, Darren, I know you don't mind her. I shouldn't be talking to you about how I feel about her."
"Yes, er, you should, Alex! I should always know how you feel."
"No ..." Alex trailed off. "You can go, Darren. I want to be alone and now I've made you uncomfortable. Would you tell Sam and Jane where I am so they don't worry?"
Darren nodded.
"All right then. Come visit me later," she requested.
Darren walked towards the door. "I will. Bye, Alex."
"Bye, Darren."

“May I ask who’s calling?” Lionel interrupted the panicked chatter on the other end.
“This is Mr. Litke,” Sam’s father replied. “I really need to talk with Mr. Bing, please.”
“Just a minute Mr. Litke,” Lionel placed the phone on hold and entered Chandler’s study. He was sitting in his chair, staring out the window. GJoey and Joey were silently playing cards, occasionally looking over at Chandler.
“Mr. Bing?” Lionel tapped Chander on the shoulder. “Chandler?”
“Wha... Oh, sorry Lionel,” Chandler turned to face Lionel.
“There’s a Mr. Litke on the phone for you,” Lionel nodded towards the phone that sat on Chandler’s desk.
“Thanks Lionel,” Chandler reached for the phone, confused. Why would Sam’s dad be phoning him? “Hello?” Chandler said into the receiver.
“Mr. Bing? It’s Mike Litke, Sam’s dad.”
“I know, and it’s just Chandler,” Chandler replied.
“Chandler, I don’t really know how to tell you what’s happened...” Mike trailed off. “Especially after what’s going on with Monica.”
“Is something wrong?” Chandler asked, starting to panic. “It’s Alex, isn’t it? Something’s happened. What happened?”
“We’re not quite sure,” Mike replied after a short pause. “When Mary went to check on the kids, everyone was there except for Alex. Her sleeping bag and backpack were also gone. We woke all the other’s, but none knew where she was.”
“She’s ... she’s missing?” Chandler couldn’t keep his voice from cracking.
“I’m so sorry Mr. Bing, I mean Chandler,” Mike said softly. “We’ve looked everywhere, and no one’s seen her.”
By this point, Lionel, Joey and GJoey were all looking at Chandler. His brow was etched with lines of worry, and he appeared to have aged another five years, all within a second or two.
“I’ll be right there,” Chandler said good bye then hung up the phone. He paused for a moment, then said to the others. “They can’t find Alex.”

After arriving at the Litke’s household, Chandler spent the next couple hours talking with the police. The police were quite positive that Alex hadn’t been kidnapped, because all her things were missing. After getting Chandler to confess that she hadn’t been acting normal since the discovery that her mom was missing, the police decided that the most reasonable explanation was that Alex had run away. This led to another long conversation, where everyone racked their brains, trying to think of where Alex might have gone to.
“What about Monica’s parents?” One police officer asked.
The sound Chandler made to that comment, was as close to a laugh as anyone had heard from him since the first disappearance. “She wouldn’t go there, I’m POSITIVE! Monica and her parents never really got along, and Alex has the same opinion as her mom of her grandparents. There’s NO way that Alex would go there.”
“What about where she and Monica use to live?” Another person suggested.
“She wouldn’t be able to get in,” Chandler replied with a shake of his head.
A few hours later, Chandler was quite sick and tired of the police. They were about to leave, much to his relief.
“We’ll call you as soon as we get a lead,” the police told him as they headed down the driveway to their cars. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her quickly.
“Right, quickly,” Chandler said sarcastically. “You know you guys told me the EXACT same thing about Mon. And since I haven’t heard from you since Mon disappeared, I’m guessing that QUICKLY in your terminology means a LONG time. A SNAIL could work faster than you guys. And this is where my TAX dollars are going!” Chandler shook his head at the police and headed towards his own car after telling he Litke’s that they shouldn’t worry over this, as he was going to hire his OWN private detective so that something would get done.

The first thing Chandler did when he arrived home that night, was find the number of the private investigator that Darren and Alex had hired a few years back. Hercule Poirot. Chandler phone him up, and in no time had him signed up for the job. After getting that settled, Chandler went upstairs to see how Dereck was doing.
Dereck was playing with his blocks on the floor of his room. He looked a little bored, but cheered up when he saw his dad.
“Daddy!” Dereck shouted, and waved his arms at his dad, indicating that he wanted to be picked up. Chandler smiled at his son, and willingly did as demanded. Dereck gave his dad a big hug which Chandler returned readily.
“What are you building Dereck?” Chandler asked his son, looking at the maze and towers of blocks on the floor.
“A house!” Dereck shouted. “Just like ours!”
“Wow, that’s really good,” Chandler complimented his son. After Dereck had explained all the different parts of the house, Chandler sat down in the rocking chair with his son on his lap.
“You know what Dereck? It’s time for your nap!” Chandler told his son, as they slowly started to rock back and forth.
“No nap!” Dereck shook his head.
Chandler just smiled at his son. Monica was the one that normally put Dereck down for his naps. She always said she liked to spend the time with him. His smile turned sad, and he had to brush away the tears that threatened to fall. Dereck was now sitting peacefully in his lap, eyes closed, but not quite asleep. “I’m so sorry,” Chandler whispered softly to his son. “I’m so sorry for everything. For not believing your mom, for dating Kristen and everything else I’ve ever done. I love you so much Dereck and I hope you never forget that. Both your mom and I love you. We always will you know. No matter what happens, we’ll both love you. You and Alex.” Chandler stopped talking, as the tears started down his face. He looked down at Dereck. He was asleep in his dad’s arms, thumb in mouth. Chandler debated putting him in his bed, but then decided to just sit there with his son.

"Al...........Monica..........."
"Argh! I am so incredibly tired of hearing Chandler moan away up there. Doesn't he ever give up?" Phoebe rested her head on Philip's shoulder and closed her eyes.
"I am too!" Joey agreed. "It's so annoying!"
Phoebe raised her head. "No, I mean I'm actually exhausted from it. There's only so much my poor ears can take." She closed her eyes again and sighed.
"I haaaaaate it when people whiiiiine!" Ross cried.
"Then how can you stand yourself, honey?" Rachel gave him a crooked smile and kissed him on the nose. Ross smiled back.
"And I'm getting bored, too," Joey put in, passing Joelana to her husband. "There must be something we can do besides sitting around here twiddling our thumbs and waiting for something to happen to us."
"Joey's right," Rachel agreed. "We should be out there looking for Alex and Monica."
"Yeah!" Philip cried. "If we find them we won't have to listen to Chandler anymore!"
"Ooh, I know!" Phoebe jumped up excitedly. "We can search for clues! Ooh, yeah, that'll be fun!"
Ross looked up enthusiastically. "You're right, Pheebs, we can play detective! That sounds like fun."
"All right," Joey agreed. "I'll just go take Joelana up to the nursery to play with Dereck, then we can go. I'm sure Chandler won't mind watching them."
"You mean you're sure Lionel won't mind watching them," Joey reminded him. "I'm not sure Chandler's getting a lot of baby-sitting done while he's moaning and groaning up there."
When Joey returned empty-handed, the six of them headed outdoors.
"The first place we should look should be under Mon's balcony," Ross suggested. "That's probably the place the kidnapper would have been if she disappeared from her room."
"You're right, Ross," Philip said. "That would make the most sense, wouldn't it?"
Somehow Phoebe made her way to the front of the group and led the rest of them to the balcony. A cluster of naked rose bushes reached out from the blanket of snow. "I bet this garden is really beautiful in the springtime," Rachel commented, taking Ross's gloved hand in hers. She didn't, however, have much time to ogle.
"Ooh, everyone come look at this!" Phoebe cried from the corner of the garden near the lattice that reached up to Monica's balcony. "It's a footprint!"
"It looks like it was made by a guy," Joey suggested, comparing the size of her boot with Joey's. "It's pretty big."
"We'd better check to make sure it doesn't match any of our boots," Philip said, leaning in closer. He made a clear print beside the one Phoebe had found, and announced that his did not match.
Joey found the same, but Ross recognized the print immediately. "It's not mine," he said, "but I'd recognize the brand anywhere. It's Moores; what I wear to work. But why would someone wear those in the snow?"
"How many of these Moores stores in New York?" Rachel asked.
"Only two," Ross replied. "It's not a chain. I know the owner personally."
Phoebe whooped excitedly. "Well then let's go!"
When they arrived at the closest Moores store, Ross introduced his friends and wife to the owner. "Guys, this is Stuart Moores. Stu, this is my wife, Rachel, and my friends. Um ... you've heard about my sister, I assume?"
Stuart nodded. "I'm sorry to hear about it, Ross."
"I wouldn't worry about it, Stu. Remember where she turned up last time she went missing?"
Laughing, Stuart asked what he could do for Ross today.
"Well, we're here to find out who could have bought a certain shoe. It looked like the same shoe you sold me last time I was in, only a size smaller. Do you have any idea?"
"Sure, Ross, I've got a sale on that model at the moment. You're size ten, right? So we're looking for about a nine?"
"That sounds about right," he replied.
Stuart led them over to the counter where he logged into his computer. He typed in a few words and numbers and letters, then printed out a list of the people that had purchased the shoe in the past month. "Sorry, Ross, my files only go back a month."
"That's okay. You've been a big help, Stuart." Ross skimmed the list, then drew in his breath sharply. "Chandler Bing???"
"Oh, yes, Chandler Bing. I guess I never mentioned to you that he's one of my best customers."
Joey stepped forward, then she gulped. "Um ... Mr. Moores, would you mind showing me what this shoe looks like?"
"Of course, ma'am. Right this way."
Stuart opened a shoe box and pulled out one of the shoes inside. "Ohhh ..." Joey sighed. "That's the shoe Chandler was wearing on New Year's Eve. Whoops!"

Darren took a deep breath as he rapped politely on the door to apartment 412 - Katie’s apartment.  He had never been there before in his life.  In fact, he had noticed before that whenever their group of friends went somewhere, it wasn’t to Katie’s, as they were never invited over.  He was quite surprised to find an old decrepit building with six stories and tiny winking windows in six tiny rows.  The inside was not upholstered - the floor was concrete with a curling dirt-ground carpet at the squeaky door.  He didn’t think much of it, however.  He had always just imagined Katie in a Ritz-like apartment building.
Darren wasn’t ready to see Katie - not after Alex had professed her deepest love for him.  Well, she hadn’t exactly professed her love.  She had kind of alluded to it, though!  Well, not even that.  He blushed as he remembered Alex’s caring words - “Darren, I can’t stand Katie.  She’s always hanging all over you and - and you’re my best friend!”  Not exactly a confession of love.  Darren shook his head hard to rid himself of such an idea.  The fact that Alex felt that Katie treated her poorly didn’t even have anything to do with him.  But when Katie had invited him to go to the movies, Darren couldn’t resist. He hadn’t much to do that weekend with Alex in hiding.  And Freddie and Corey had gone camping upstate with Corey’s family.  Darren had refused Corey’s invitation because he felt he needed to be here while Alex’s mom was missing.  He hadn’t known at the time that Alex would run away.  And besides, he didn’t think Katie was so mean.  She was quite nice to him . . . what was with this?  He still stood nervously in front of the door.  He had had a time convincing Katie that he would pick her up at her apartment, but her place was more inner-city and closer to the theatre.  When Darren suggested they take the family limousine, though, Katie readily agreed.  But now it appeared as though no one was at home.
He was about to give up when he heard a shout from inside the apartment.  It was Katie.  “Just a second, Dar!”  Darren was glad she had finally heard the knocking, but he wished she would hurry up.  He really had to go to the bathroom, and it would still take ten minutes to get to the movie theatre.
It was only a few more moments until Katie slipped out the door and shot a lopsided grin at Darren.  He gave a forced smile back and greeted her.
“Sorry it took me so long, Darren, it’s just that I-”
Darren interrupted her, no longer able to contain it. “I’m sure it’s a real nice story, Katie, but I’ve really got to use your washroom. Pleeeeeeeeease!!!”
Katie put her hand on the door handle protectively.  “Uh . . . our toilet overflowed.  That’s the story I was just about to tell you.  That’s why I’m late.  I had to clean it up, and call the plumber.  He won’t be able to fix it till next week, so we’d better just go if we want to catch the movie before then!” She gave a nervous giggle.
“Kaaaaaatieeeeeeeeee! I’ve gotta go!”  Darren flushed again.  This was so embarassing.
“I don’t know, Dar, it’s just that-”
Darren shoved Katie out of the way. “Sorry about this, Katie. But I can’t hold it.”  Then he threw open the door.
In front of him lay a tall, slim woman with almond coloured hair - she looked quite like Katie.  Though Darren had never seen the profile of Katie laying flat on her face.  No one else was around.
“Oh my God, Katie, we need to phone an ambulance. Where’s your phone?”  Darren glanced around frantically for the telephone, all the while taking notice of the sparse furnishings and unclean environment.
“No, Darren.” Katie grabbed his arm.  “She’s all right.  The bathroom is over there.”  She gestured.
Not understanding, Darren kneeled by the woman’s side and checked for a pulse.  Her heart was racing.  “There’s definitely something wrong, Katie! Is this your mom?”
“Yes! Just leave her alone!” 
Darren jumped up and back, shocked by Katie’s harsh tone.
By this time Darren’s heart was racing too.  What was going on here?
“Honestly, Katie-”
“No, Darren.” Katie’s voice was calmer now.  “Just trust me.  She’s all right.”
“Is she sleeping?”
“No, Darren. Please, just go to the bathroom and let’s go.”
Darren complied this time.  He entered the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later, relieved and yet anxious.  He stood determinedly at the bathroom door.  “Katie, I think your mom needs help.”
“Yeah, Darren, well I don’t.  She’s like that most of the time.  So let’s just go, okay?”  Her hands were on her hips but her eyes were large and pleading.
“Okay.  But let’s not go to a movie.  Um . . . let’s go walking in the park.”  He wasn’t sure, but he guessed that Katie might explain things to him if he just backed off and gave her some room to breathe.
“Yeah, all right.”
Katie followed Darren to the limousine outside and they climbed inside.  Darren told his chauffeur, Johnson, that they had made a change of plans.

The air was cool and Darren was thankful he had brought ear muffs and gloves.  Katie was wearing a scarf and some thread-bare mittens, but her teeth chattered against her tongue.
“Are your ears cold?” Darren asked. “They’re really red.”
“A bit,” she admitted.
Darren took off his ear muffs and offered them to her.  She took them gratefully and placed them on her head.
After they had walked for at least ten minutes in uncomfortable silence, Katie broke the ice.  “So I guess you’re probably wondering what was going on back there.”
“Oh, Katie, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” Darren protested.
“Well I do want to.”  Katie stared down at the ground as they walked.
“Want to go sit down?” Darren pointed at a nearby bench.
Katie nodded.
They swung towards the park bench.  Darren brushed the snow off of it; at least two inches had fallen since the day before.  The bench was cold, but Darren was tired, almost exhausted from this strange turn of events.
“My mother’s an addict,” Katie blurted out.
Darren stared at her.  “You mean - a drug addict?” he asked.
“Oh, Darren, how naïve you are.  Of course she’s a drug addict.”  Katie sighed.  “What other kind is there?”
“Well, you can be addicted to alcohol or cigarettes or prescription medicine . . . remember how that Matthew Perry guy from that hit nineties tv show had to go into rehab because he was addicted to prescription medicine?”
She shook her head and glared at her mittens.  “I don’t know who that is.  And alcohol and cigarettes and prescription medicine all are drugs, Darren.  One time my sister had strep throat and my mom hid the penicillin so that she could take it.  She took all the pills at once and went out cold in front of our door.  Kind of like today, but outside the door.”  She glanced up at Darren.  “Oh, why am I telling you this? You’re just going to laugh at me!  And you’ll tell all our friends and they’ll hate me because I’m poor and I have a drug addict of a mother!”
“Katie, of course I won’t laugh at you!  We’re friends.  And neither would any of our other friends, because friends don’t laugh at each other.  Friends help each other.  And I want to help you as much as I can.”
Nodding, Katie looked down again.  “Thanks,” she whispered. “I trust you, Darren.”
Darren smiled encouragingly.
“My dad works two jobs - a night shift at a fast food restaurant, and the janitor of our apartment building.  The owner of the building threatened to fire him if my mom got high in the halls again or in front of the building.  So now she only does drugs inside the apartment or in alleys in who-knows-what part of New York.  She doesn’t want him to get fired because then she’ll have no money for drugs.”
Darren knew he shouldn’t ask questions, just listen, but he couldn’t resist.  Her mother sounded like a real piece of work.  “How does she get control of the money?  Can’t your dad divorce her so he and you can keep all the money?”
“Well there’s my sister too,” Katie replied.  “She’s seventeen.  But no, he can’t.  The reason he won’t get a divorce is last time he and my mom had a big fight and he said he wanted a divorce, my sister tried to kill herself.  And she said she’d do it again if they got a divorce.”
“Oh my God,” Darren murmured.  “But why does she want them together?”
“I don’t know, Darren.  But she has a great sense of inferiority to both our parents - and I think . . . I think she’s afraid of our dad.  He hits her sometimes when she comes home late - so late that he’s home from work before she gets home.”
“Katie, does he hit you?”  All at once Darren had an enormous sense of fear for his friend.  It sounded as if she needed an escape from this nightmare.
“No, he never hits me,” Katie said.  “He loves me, Darren.  That’s why he works all the time.  He gives me money to go get food for myself - and clothes too.  He sometimes gives Karen money too - that’s my sister.  But not very often, because she wastes it on makeup and stuff and he says that we need food more.  But - but I look up to my sister.  She’s so cool - and she’s so pretty and calm through all this.”  She gulped.  “I want to be just like her.  Except I want to stay alive.  So sometimes I steal makeup from her and borrow her clothes.  When she sleeps at her friends’ houses I borrow her clothes.  Er - I’m a lot taller than she was at thirteen.”  Katie stood up.  Darren followed suit.  “Darren, please don’t tell anyone I told you all this.  I don’t want anyone to know - especially Alex.”
Darren almost doubled over with shock when Katie said “Alex” rather than “Alexis.”  But instead he just nodded.  “I promise I won’t tell any of our friends.  That’s up to you.”  He put his arm around her and they walked back toward the limo.  Darren knew one thing - Katie couldn’t live like this any longer.

As soon as Sam and Jane entered their english classroom Monday morning, Darren hurried over to them to tell them of Alex's whereabouts. He was dismayed to find that Katie was sashaying into the classroom behind them. He had no classes with Sam and Jane without Katie that day - he would have to tell her too, even though he knew it was probably against Alex's wishes.
"Hi guys. I found Alex - she's really upset, so she's just hiding at her old house for a few days. She wanted me to tell you so you wouldn't be worried."
Sam gave a sigh of relief.
"I'm glad she told us this time!" Jane replied. She and Sam had been a bit angry that Alex hadn't cared enough to tell them where she had been when she left for California.
"That Alexis is such a baby," Katie said bitingly, rolling her eyes. "I don't run away from my problems."
Sam and Jane exchanged looks, and Darren shook his head. He felt bad that he had had to tell Katie about Alex.
They went to their desks, and stood for the singing of the national anthem. During roll call, Mrs. Makelle made a comment about Alex's absence. "She's missing a lot, isn't she," was all she said, even though it was likely she had read about the whole incident in the paper.
Afterwards, Mrs. Makelle went on to explain the next project the class would be working on. Each student was to write a report and give a presentation on a famous person. This period would be used for research. As the class headed for the library, Alex's friends discussed who they would be writing about.
Jane was unsure of who she would do her project on. "Maybe Jane Goodall. Or Jill Hennessy - she's my favourite actress. Or Jean Auel - she's such a good writer."
"If you do a writer, you should do Agatha Christie," Sam suggested.
"But I don't read her books!" Jane protested.
"Well you should!" Sam laughed. She turned to Katie. "What about you, Katie?"
"I'm not sure ... but maybe I should do my project on Darren. After all, Darren, you are my favourite actor, and you're famous. And when I do my presentation, you could be a special guest!"
Darren, recalling Alex's words on the weekend, disagreed. "I don't think that's a very good idea, Katie."
"Aw, why not?" she whined.
"It just isn't," he replied abruptly. They had reached the library.
"Well I know my subject for sure," Sam said to Jane and Freddie as they put their books onto one of the small tables in the library. Darren, Cory and Katie situated themselves at a table nearby. "Hans Gentil."
"Who the heck is that?" Freddie asked. "I've never heard of him before."
"Not many people have recently, apparently," Sam replied. "He's a notorious murderer."
"Scary!" Jane shivered. "I don't think I could handle writing about a guy like that."
"I have tons of information on him already," Sam explained. "My grandfather has tracked the lives of many infamous crooks, and Hans Gentil is one of his more recent acquisitions. But by recent I mean about ten years ago."
"So is this guy locked up, or what?" Freddie asked, opening his binder.
"Trust me, Freddie, you have no need to be worried about Hans Gentil even though he isn't in jail."
Jane bit her bottom lip and put on a grimace. "Sam, did you know that 'gentil' means nice in French? He sounds anything but nice."
"But Freddie, really, don't worry. This guy commits the same crime over and over, and his victims are always women. It's the same gig every time: he convinces the woman that he's their soulmate. They get married, and move off to some secluded area where he is free to murder them whenever he feels the time is right."
"Oh my God, Sam, and the police haven't gotten him yet? Why the hell not?" Jane looked terrified. "I - I mean it must be easy to track him if he always commits the same crime!"
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Sam replied non-chalantly. "And when I say the murder is the same, I mean the murder is the same. Soon after his marriage to whatever girl, he gives them a beautiful, exotic scarf, that he claims he acquired in Africa. Then he'll eventually choke her with it. Beautiful, huh?"
"No!" Jane cried. "That's horrific!"
Freddie gave a concerned look to Jane, then asked, "How many women has Monsieur Gentil killed?"
"Five, I think it is. All between 2000 and 2010. There have been no reports recently. It makes me wonder ... where could he be? What's he doing?"
"Maybe he's dead?" Jane said hopefully.
Ignoring Jane, Sam continued excitedly. "He always changes his name. I don't even think Hans Gentil is his real name, even though that's the name he used for his first murder. I don't think even the police are sure."
"What about the FBI?" Freddie suggested. "Surely he's near the top of their list. I mean, he sounds like a pretty heinous baddy."
"I know what you mean, Freddie, but I'm not sure. Probably, though. He's wanted in Europe, too. Only one of his murders was committed in the States. Two were in England, one in France, and the other, I'm pretty sure was in Mali."
"Mali!?" Freddie was a bit surprised at that. "So he has been to Africa. At least he's not a liar."
Jane snorted, and stared blankly down at the table.
"He was last thought to be seen in Nevada in 2011 - so I'm assuming he's still here in good ol' America ... but I kind of hope not."
"Sam I know you," Jane said. "You've got a sick twisted hope that he is in America so you can meet him."
"Well ..."
"Chop chop, you three! Your conversation sounds very serious, so why don't you concentrate your seriousness on your work." Mrs. Makelle passed them by and shook her head disapprovingly.
"She doesn't know just how serious," Freddie said quietly.

Alex dropped the papers she was holding in disgust. There was nothing, nothing to be found in the apartment that would lead to her mothers whereabouts. She’d searched all through the night - all through the five days she had been hiding, in fact, as now it was Wednesday - pulling all the books off the shelves and shaking them to see if any loose papers would fall out. All she’d found was an old bookmark marking one of her favorite receipes. Actually, now that she thought about it, Monica hadn’t made that recipe in years.
Alex cleaned up the papers that she had dropped (she is, after all, a bit like her mom) and then returned to her old room and sat on the floor under the window facing the door. By now she didn’t really expect her mom to walk through the door, but she wasn’t beyond hope.
“This is pointless,” she finally shouted, before immediately falling silent, surprised at how loud her voice sounded in the empty room. She stood up and looked out the window towards the moon. She could vaguely remember standing at the window doing this same thing many times in the past.
“Man in the moon,
Protector of Dreams
I ask this one wish of you
This wish may not be important
But this dreamer’s wish
She would like to come true.
I know you know my old wish, and I’m thankful for having it fullfilled, but this time, in place of my dad, I’d like to have my mom returned. … Please.”
Alex turned away from the window and sighed. “Forget it, this is useless sitting here. I need to be out there actually doing something. I can’t and won’t be able to help my mom by sitting here.”
With a determined scowl she turned for the door. She creaked it open and stepped out, but before leaving, she gave one last peek into the dank and dusty room. She didn’t plan to ever return here. This room was essentially a trove of bad memories. Not that finding the occasional bad memory was a rare occurrence. Bad memories seemed to follow her family around wherever they went - be it New York, California, or into the unknown, the place where Monica seemed to be now.  Then without another look, Alex turned away from the sorrow.
Outdoors, the crisp smell of a newfallen snow emanated into Alex’s nose.  It almost tickled her senses to be outside again.  Feeling an invigorating burst of energy, she twirled around, humming a joyful tune.  Separating herself from the apartment was a symbolic metaphor for her breaking from her seemingly prepetual feeling of longing.
“She’ll come back,” Alex murmured. “I know she will.”
If anything, it seemed that the Man in the Moon had given her a renewed sense of hope.
It wasn’t long before Alex noticed people pointing at her and calling.  A red flush crept through her face as she remembered that people would be on the lookout for her.  She felt that somehow her life was a tabloid expose.  Alexis Bing running away was not treated like the running away of an unknown child from the Bronx.  That in itself made her stomach gurgle angrily.  Why should she be treated any differently than other kids?
There was no time to think of that now, however.  A police car screeched to a stop at the curb beside her.  A blond petite woman rolled the window down and called to Alex.  “Your father is waiting for you!”
With a sudden overwhelming desire to be back with her brother, and all the resources her dad could supply, Alex couldn’t contain a grin.  She raced for the car and hopped in.

As the police car pulled up to the front of Chandler’s house, Alex got increasingly nervous. She wasn’t ready to face her dad yet.
It wasn’t until she was climbing out of the cops car that she noticed all the cars that were there. She paused, taking a closer look before recognizing the cars. Her aunts, uncles and ‘adult’ friends were all at her house.
The policewomen smiled at her encouragingly as they walked up the front steps. There, she stood silently, her once happy mood quickly draining away to sorrow and self-pity.
The policewomen rang the doorbell and a few moments later Lionel opened the door warily, still nervous of finding more reporters and such.
“Alex!” Lionel almost shouted before remembering his manners. “Ms. Bing, come in, come in. Oh Chandler shall be so delighted to have you home again.” He stepped to the side and waved Alex and the police officer into the house. “Why don’t we go see your dad, he’s with everybody else in the family room.”
Alex almost smiled at that. Family room. How ironic that he’d be there considering all the problems that seemed to conglomerate around them when it came to anything family. Alex just simply nodded though, and followed Lionel down the hall.
Rachel was the first one to see Alex, Chandler’s back having been to the doorway. She let out a little ‘shriek’ jumping up and running to the door. Everyone else turned to look, but at first couldn’t see Alex, because Rachel was in the way.
“Oh, Alex, you’re back. We’ve been so worried. Why’d you run away, why?” Rachel bombarded her niece with questions and hugs and kisses.
As soon as Chandler heard her name, his face went white. Alex. She was back? After a second, when the blood rushed back to his head, he leaped out of his chair, and lightly pushing Rachel away, he grabbed his daughter in a hug, tears streaming down his face. “Oh Alex. Alex I’m sooo sooo sorry. Alex.” Chandler just kept repeating himself over and over again.
Alex just stood there stiffly, a frown still covering her face. When Chandler finally broke away from her to thank the police officer (who left after) all of the other adults surrounded Alex in a hug. It was Gjoey who noticed first that Alex didn’t seem excited or even happy about being back home. She had been hugging Alex when she realized that Alex wasn’t hugging back. Her hands on Alex’s arms, Gjoey pushed back slightly so she could look Alex in the eye.  Alex just stared back at her blankly, her face hidding all her emotions behind the mask that she was famous for being able to build. It was almost ironic that Alex was using acting, an area she probably would never had gotten very famous in if it hadn’t been for her dad, to keep from showing the emotions she felt at seeing her dad again.
Gjoey just gave her a small wink, before letting go. She wasn’t going to press Alex now. She’d give her a few days to settle back in first.
It was Phoebe though, who suggested that they all leave, and give Chandler and Alex some time alone. Gjoey, was still the only one who’d noticed the coolness Alex seemed to have when in concerned Chandler. Not wanting to cause a scene, she agreed, thinking it might be best to let the two talk it out.
Once everyone had left. Alex turned on her Nintendo and started to play, ignoring the looks her dad was giving her.
After about five minutes Chandler finally spoke up. “Are you even going to talk to me Alex?” Alex didn’t reply. “Please, Alex, don’t give me the silent treatment. I don’t understand why you ran away. I don’t understand any of this. I don’t think I can handle it if you won’t talk to me. I’m already losing Monica, I might have completely lost her, I don’t know, but I can’t stand the thought of losing you as well. Please Alex.”
Alex just sat there playing her game. She heard her father get up and leave the room, but she never turned around to look, preferring to just ignore him. He should know what was wrong, she shouldn’t have to tell him.

Chandler walked quickly from the family room to Dereck’s room. Dereck seemed to be the only one who wasn’t judging him over all the events that had happened recently. He felt horrible, he’d finally gotten Alex back and she wouldn’t even talk to him, much less even acknowledge his existence.
Entering Dereck’s room, he found his son sleeping soundly in his bed. Stepping as quietly as possible, Chandler approached his son and reached out to touch him. Dereck woke up quickly when he felt his dad’s touch.
“Daddy,” Dereck said excited, reaching up to his father. Chandler lifted up his son and carried him over the rocker where the two sat down together.
“Alex is back,” Chandler told his son, trying to keep the tears that threatened to fall from falling. “I’m sure she’s excited to see you again.”
“Alwex?” Dereck questioned.
“Yeah,” Chandler nodded. He gave Dereck a hug. “You can see her tomorrow, but you need to go back to sleep right now. Tomorrow will be another long day.” He stood up and set Dereck back on his bed. He tucked him in and whispered good night. He quickly hurried out of his son’s room. He couldn’t hold the tears back any longer and he didn’t want to upset Dereck. Tears flowing freely now, Chandler headed to his room, where he collapsed on his bed, desperately clutching a picture of Alex, Monica and Dereck to his chest.

"I'm glad you came back, Alex," Sam said, inviting herself into the foyer of Chandler's mansion.
"Me too," Alex confessed. "I was worried about missing school, and kind of worried about hurting my dad by staying in hiding."
Sam smiled.
"So what did I miss in school?" Alex asked, leading Sam up to her bedroom.
"Um, we had a math quiz, but Mr. Collins will just put the weight on the next test. In social studies we just watched some movies. Um, gym, who cares, and English we started another project."
"Not another one! All we do is projects, projects, projects."
"I know. But this one's pretty interesting, actually. We have to write a two page report on a famous person, then do a presentation on them."
"Hmm." Alex looked pensive for a moment. "That does sound like an interesting project."
Inside Alex's room, she put on some music.
"Want to play a game?"
Sam agreed, and Alex took out her Nancy Drew board game.
"I also thought later we could go sledding. Lionel helped me make a big snowhill in the backyard a few weeks ago ... things have been so hectic we haven't had a chance to try it out."
"That would be great," Sam said.
As they began to play, Alex asked, "So who are you doing your project on?"
"Hans Gentil. Don't get me on the subject - I totally freaked out Jane and Freddie the other day talking about him."
"Never heard of him before," Alex said as she rolled the die. "He can't be that famous."
"Al!" Sam laughed. "You can't have heard of every famous person there is! Anyway, I'm not surprised. He's a murderer. He has killed five people, and he's still at large. But he hasn't had a victim in about three or four years, so I wouldn't worry about it."
Presently, the phone rang. Alex answered it on speakerphone. "Hello?"
"Alex! It's me, Jamie."
"Jamie! Hey hello! What's up?"
"Nothing much. I just wanted to talk. What's up with you?"
"Sam is over."
Sam joined the conversation. "Hey, Jamie."
"Hi Sam!"
"We're just playing the Nancy Drew game," Alex told Jamie.
"Ooh, sounds like fun. I wish I were there!"
"Any news from California?" Alex asked.
"Actually, yes," Jamie replied. "I'm glad you reminded me. After you left, Bruce found a new love. A woman new to town, named Bonnie. She was only here for a week, and they were already married!"
"You're kidding," Alex said. "Man, that guy's a player."
"Yeah," Jamie agreed. "Our moms didn't stay with him, but I wonder what he does to women that do?"
"Why?" Sam asked curiously. "What happened to your moms?"
"After my mom broke up with him he started stalking us," Jamie replied. "What a weirdo, huh? He gives me the creeps. Anyway, they moved away quickly ... somewhere in the country."
"Wanted to get away from the 'big city' I assume," Alex teased.
Jamie laughed. "Yeah, this little one horse town is too big for them I guess. Maybe they're planning on a large family or something."
"Anyway, Sam, this guy is so weird. He has no phone in his house," Alex explained. "Like, hello, how can you not have a phone this day in age?"
Sam didn't answer, but Jamie piped up. "Yeah. And I went to his house once and he had all this stuff he claimed was from Africa. He used to live there, supposedly, anyway. I think he said Malawi or something."
"Mali?" Sam guessed, her heart in her throat. She began to visibly shake, and she heard the blood singing in her ears.
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Not Malawi. But how did you know, Sam?"
"Jamie, you can't let that woman marry him!" Sam was beginning to panic. She felt like Jane. At the thought of that, she almost laughed. Her mind and body were playing strange tricks on her.
"What's wrong, Sam?" Alex looked very concerned. Without the usual joking disposition, she felt Sam's forehead. It felt hot. Alex noticed that Sam was sweating heavily. "Sam!"
"Alex," Sam said slowly. "Remember how I told you that I'm doing my project on a man named Hans Gentil?"
"Well, yes, we were just talking about him -"
"That Bruce is Hans Gentil. The same person. And I'm really scared, Alex."

"You know why I'm so strange?" Ben asked Brook as they carried their lunches through the cafeteria to where their other friends were sitting.
"You're not strange, Ben!" Brook protested, but after a brief pause, she said, "Well, maybe you're a little strange.  Why?"
"Well at least I think it's because once when I was a baby Monica was babysitting me she made me bump my head.  I think that knock did something to my brain."  Ben grinned.  "Then again, it could just be because my birth mother and her wife had my playing with Barbie dolls."
"I think it's the latter," Brook laughed as they seated themselves at their usual table.  After greeting their friends, she took on a serious tone.  "You really miss her, don't you?"
"Yeah," Ben admitted, taking a bite from his sandwich.  "I mean, she's my dad's sister and Mom's best friend.  I don't really know my other aunts very well, my mom's sisters, but I know Monica so well.  Until she went to California, and now this, I saw Monica practically once a day, if not twice.  She's almost like a mother to me.  Not quite, but almost."
Brook nodded.  "I understand.  When my grandmother died, I felt the same way.  I saw her every day because she lived with us and babysat me a lot.  She really cared for me and loved me like a daughter.  She had no daughters - she was my dad's mom - but she had always wanted one.  So she treated me like one, and Mom too.  It was really hard to lose her.  Hopefully it won't have to go that far with your aunt.  Just think - she came back last time.  There's always hope."
"Yeah, but this time she didn't just run away.  The police think now that she was kidnapped. They're also looking into the prospect that she may have been murdered."
Brook shivered.  "Don't talk like that, Ben.  They'll find her."  All this talk of murder made Brook feel sick to her stomach, and she pushed her lunch away from her.
"I'm sure they will, Brook," Ben replied somberly.  "But it's simply a question of whether she's found dead or alive."
They sat quietly for a moment, then turned away to what were hopefully more light-hearted conversations with their other friends.  Ben joined a conversation concerning whether the Rangers were better than the Islanders as Brook turned to her two best girlriends, who were sitting across from her.  But she did not find a more comforting top of conversation with them as she had hoped.
Hanna, her long time friend from Grammar school, looked up from a deep conversation with Morgan, their other best friend.
"Brook, did you hear about Karen?" Hanna asked, her eyes wide.
"You mean Karen Chilton?" Brook asked.  "No, why? What happened to her?"
"Danielle Christie found her in the girl's bathroom in the middle of first period," Morgan replied.  "She had a knife - she had slit her wrists."
"She's in the hospital now," Hanna added.  "I can't believe you didn't hear all the ruckus and commotion.  An ambulance came and an EMS crew came in.  It was pretty intense."
"I have a spare first class, remember?  I just came in for second period," Brook reminded them.  "That's pretty bad, though."  Here was another conversation about murder - only this time the murderer was attempting murder herself.  Brook felt some bile work it's way from her small intestine to her esophagus in just a few seconds.  What was wrong with today's world that made people so intent on death and dying?
Morgan shook her head sadly. "Yeah," she agreed.  "And I hear this isn't the first attempt.  Supposedly she did the same thing two years ago, but she went to a different high school."
"I'd do the same thing if I had friends like Lisa and Lance," Hanna said dryly, rolling her eyes at the pair across the cafeteria.  Lance was swearing vulgarly, and Lisa's made up face was twisted into an intimidating smirk.
"Yeah.  What I don't understand is how Sara can hang out with them," Brook said.  "She's so nice, even to us.  I wonder why she doesn't just dump them."
"I don't know," Morgan said, shaking her head once again.  "But I do know that Karen needs a friend like her right now."

"Alex."
It was a few days later, and Alex was lolling on her bed listening to her favourite band, One Month.  She was just thinking about how to do her project, when she turned to see her father entering her room, a snoozing Dereck in his arms, and Sweep trailing at his heels. "Hey, Dad. I'm glad to see you up and about."
Chandler nodded. He seated himself on her bed. "Alex, I've been acting so stupid lately."
"I know, Dad."
They both chuckled.
"Anyway, Al, I'm so sorry. You need me now more than ever and I haven't been there for you. I just wanted to let you know that I've gotten over myself and I'm ready to be a good dad again."
"It's good that you came up here, Dad, because I think you need me now more than I ever, and I couldn't be there for you."
Sweep barked, and Chandler suggested they take a walk together. "We can talk things out and be friends again."
Alex smiled and stood up. "I'd like that, Dad. Let's go."

"So, The Avengers are reunited once again!"
It was the next weekend, Saturday, and there were no updates on Monica’s whereabouts, though the gang’s spirits were much higher now that Alex was home.
"What are you talking about, Phoebe?" Ross asked, looking up from the newspaper.
"I'm talking about the six of us. Look, we're all here. All the detectives. I'm calling us The Avengers. We're going to avenge Chandler, Mon and Alex by solving this crime!"
"Um, okay, Pheebs."
Rachel gave Ross a light punch on the arm. "Come on, Ross. I had fun last time! Even though our 'clue' took us virtually nowhere." She glared at Joey.
Joey shrugged, grinning, and shifted Joelana from her right shoulder to her left.
They were at Chandler's for what seemed like the hundredth day in a row. They were expected to give him support, but Chandler didn't seem to want anyone around.
"Well, what are we going to do today?" Philip asked Phoebe, as she seemed to have made herself leader of 'The Avengers.'
"I think we should split into two groups. That way we can cover more ground."
Rachel nodded. "Very good plan, Pheebs." She laughed.
"Girls and guys," Phoebe decided. "And what should we do about Joelana?"
"Well can't she come? Can't we stay inside today?" Joey asked.
"Yes! We'll look through Monica's diary and Chandler, Monica and Alex's email accounts."
"That sounds a bit nosy," Ross warned.
"Oh well, would Monica rather we find her or we don't look in her diary?" Phoebe glared at Ross.
"Okay, okay, you're boss."
"So we girls will take Mon's diary and Alex's email account. You three take Chandler and Monica's email accounts."
When Phoebe, Joey and Rachel, as well as Joelana, disappeared, Joey said, "I don't know about you guys, but there's a hockey game on that I want to watch. I don't want to go hunting for clues today. It's useless anyway."
Ross quickly agreed. He thought the whole thing was stupid. Philip reluctantly turned on the television. "I guess so. But tonight's going to be a cold night if Phoebe finds out."
"We just won't tell them! We'll say there was nothing suspicious on their email accounts. Besides, we don't have the passwords, so (no offense, Philip) but it sounds like Phoebe's not all there," Ross said.
"S'okay," Philip replied, tuning into the hockey game: Maple Leafs versus Rangers.

"So what are we looking for exactly?" Joey asked. "All her diary has is stuff about how much she misses Chandler, she wishes she never left New York, she's worried about Alex's school grades."
"Wait a minute ..." Phoebe didn't want Joey and Rachel to abandon their work hastily. "I wouldn't be so sure. What's this?" She read aloud from the diary. "Dear diary, today I met Bruce. He's so handsome, tall with this really, really blond hair. And he's so nice too ... That doesn't sound so innocent to me, guys."
"What comes after that?" Rachel asked, her interest piqued.
"Um ... there are some more entries about how much she seems to like this Bruce guy ... wait! Dear diary, today Bruce said he loves me. I can't believe it! And I feel so terrible because I can't return his love. I'm still in love with Chandler ... oh, God, I wish I had never left New York. Then I wouldn't be in this fix. What am I going to do?"
"Wow," Joey said. "I had no idea anything like that went on while she was in California."
"Neither did I," Phoebe said grimly. "This presents a very new look to our case."
"How?" Rachel asked.
"A broken heart? If Monica pushed this guy away, he may want either revenge or ... or maybe he just wants Mon to himself! Hmm ..."
"Phoebe, that makes no sense," Joey said, shaking her head, and rocking Joelana, who had begun to fuss. "Jealousy doesn't often do things like that to a person."
"Oh, no?" Phoebe taunted. "We'll find out."
"How?" Rachel asked again. "The diary doesn't have Bruce's last name. And I really don't think it's a plausible idea, Pheebs, much as it could be."
"Well, that's all we're going to get out of here," Phoebe said, ignoring her friends. "Let's go check Alex's email account. I know the password because she has told me she uses the same password for everything, and that it's nancydrew."
"Why would she tell you?" Joey asked curiously.
"I asked ... thought it might come in handy some day."

Dear Darren:
Guess what ... you'll never believe it ... you haven't guessed it by now, I'm pretty sure, so I'll just tell you. My mom is sweet on another guy. By another, I mean NOT DAD. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? I am so ticked off, I just want to scream. But usually when I scream I have to explain myself. I would have no explanation. His name is Bruce Lovell ... and I'm very afraid. My new friend Jamie told me all about him, and there is no good news. Trust me. Bruce used to date Jamie's mom, Nancy. After Nancy broke up with him (she's now married to a guy named George) he started stalking her ... AND JAMIE. Poor girl I have no idea what I would have done if I'd been in her shoes. but can you believe it? And now my mom LIKES HIM. Why would she like him? Why would she like him? HOW can she like him? How can she not see? Well, write me back. I've gtg cos Mom is calling me. Maybe I should tell her about Bruce ... but I don't want to hurt her. Nah, I'll leave that to him.
           Best friends forever, Alex.

"Well, I think that about clinches it." Phoebe stood over the computer, satisfaction in her eyes.
"Oh my God, Phoebe, you could be right," Rachel gasped.
"I can't believe Mon would get mixed up with someone like that," Joey said.
"I can't believe she would tell him she doesn't love him! If I did that, I would be afraid for my life," Rachel continued.
"I would be very afraid," Joey agreed. She held Joelana tightly to her.
"I think we should tell the police to watch out for a Bruce Lovell," Phoebe said.

"What are we gonna do, what are we gonna do, what are we gonna do?" Alex paced the room. "We have to tell someone about this."
"Your dad?" Jane suggested.
"No way! He'll just freak out and probably go crazy! Who, who, who, who, who can we tell?"
"We should tell Joey and Joey," Sam decided. "Joey is level-headed; I mean girl-Joey. She'll know what to do."
"That's who, that's who, that's who," Alex agreed, reaching for the door-handle. "Everyone's here right now; let's go."

After listening carefully to Alex and her friends frantically explaining their story, Joey exchanged a frightened glance with Rachel, then with Phoebe. This totally matched up with what they had learned when they investigated Alex's email.
"It's time to go back to the police," Phoebe declared.
Rachel laughed nervously. "I can't believe you want to go back there, Pheebes."
"We have to," she replied. "We'll just have to make sure that we don't have to talk to Inspector Japp. In fact, we'll just go to the next closest precinct."
Rachel and Joey nodded.
The three stood. Alex, Jane and Sam followed suit.
"We're coming too, right?" Alex asked.
"You have to come to tell your story," Joey agreed. "Let's go."

"Hi, can I help you girls?"
All six turned to see a middle-aged officer in plain clothing addressing them.
"Er, yes," Joey replied. "Thank you. We have some information concerning the Geller kidnapping."
"Right, right, you're Mr. Bing's sister, aren't you? And you-" he turned to Phoebe "-are that girl that Japp over at 56th arrested?"
Phoebe rolled her eyes and nodded. "Guilty. Of being the one that was arrested that is. But not of kidnapping my best friend!"
"I'm Detective Briscoe. Let's go to a conference room where we can talk over your information."
Alex was in awe. She stared at everything, taking it all in. She had never been in a police station before. In the conference room, Detective Briscoe asked them all to take seats, and they obliged. "So, who wants to explain?"
Everyone looked at Alex, and Rachel gave her an encouraging grin. "Take it away, sweetie."
Alex took a deep breath and launched into a detailed monologue. When she had finished, Detective Briscoe went over a few points. "So you say that your friend in California thinks he moved into the country. She thinks that he stayed in California?"
Alex nodded, and glanced at Sam, who still looked spooked from her vital discovery. "Yes, that's what I got from what she told me and Sam."
"Your friend Jamie had been inside his house before, and noticed African artifacts?"
Again, Alex nodded, but said nothing.
"Mali . . ." The Detective stared thoughtfully at a blank wall. "The Hans Gentil case has quite intrigued me during the past years of my career. I secretly hoped he would bring his business to New York so I could perhaps have the honour of mirandizing him. But now I'm quite sorry about this." He started for the door. "You can go. I'll call you if I have more questions. Right now I need to get in touch with INTERPOL and a precinct in California."

"There wasn't enough time!" Sam declared later that evening when she, Alex, and the others had returned to the Bing household. "There's no way on this good earth Gentil had enough time to do the job on your mom, then right after, marry that other woman too that Jamie was talking about. She said he met her right after you guys moved back!"
Alex didn't move her head from her pillow. "I know you're right, Sam," she murmured. "But I'm ready to give up hope. If it wasn't Bruce Lovell, who was it?"
Sam pulled a partially crumpled, folded piece of computer paper from her pocket. She unfolded it and handed it to Alex. "I've been studying this poem that you found in your mom's room the night she was kidnapped. I'm almost sure that there is a clue to the identity of her assailants concealed inside."
"Plural? Assailants?" Alex looked searchingly at her friend. "Why do you think there is more than one? And how can you think this stupid poem will help? The whole thing completely points to Bruce as the kidnapper. And he's dead."
Sam shivered, almost uncontrollably. "Thank God," she murmured. She took the paper from Alex and pointed at one of the stanzas. "Look at this. 'It's what we are/It's what we are/It's what we are.' Doesn't that make you suspect that there's more than one of them? It could be nothing, Ally, but I'm not so sure."
"I don't know, Sam. It just doesn't make sense. This paragraph that's always repeated totally points to Bruce. I think Mom's kidnapper just left this note to incriminate Hans Gentil. Otherwise why would they have left a note at all?"
Rather than replying, Sam murmured aloud the paragraph Alex was referring to. " 'Hey, I know where you're from - It makes it that much nicer to meet you. Hey, I know what you've done - It makes it that much better to defeat you.' I think you're right about this incriminating Gentil, Alex, because I think he knew who Monica really was when you were in California. You said he made frequent trips to New York - probably to find out more about your mom."
Alex nodded.
"Plus we're assuming he was obsessed. 'It makes it that much better to defeat you.' If you hadn't come back to New York, he probably would have tried to kill your mom."
Shaking, Alex nodded again.
"But from the rest of this, I get the idea that the writer has left a clue, simply because I don't think this note was sent as a clue. I think it was left for Monica, for the reason you mentioned earlier. Why would they leave a clue for us to find? They probably meant to take it with them when they kidnapped her. I also suspect that they came back for it, but it was too late: I had it, and they didn't know where it had gone."
"It sounds dangerous, Sammy. Maybe we should give it to Detective Briscoe. What if they find out you have it? You could get hurt."
"Don't worry, Alex. I've made another copy of it. I saved it on the computer hard drive, and on a dvd. I keep the dvd in my backpack for school, and a second copy of the dvd under my matress. Heck, you can keep this crumpled old thing if you like - even if they get it from us, we still have it as a clue."
"It sounds as if you've thought of everything," Alex said admiringly. She glanced over the poem once more. "Hey, Sam, what do you think of this part? 'And while the others try to take your spot/You wanna make them stop but you gotta make them stop.' Kirsten tried to take Mom's spot. It could be meant to throw the scent on her. But she's been on a modelling tour in France since she broke up with Dad."
"Whatever it means," Sam agreed, "it also means that these people know almost everything about your mom."
"It sounds like her kidnapper is a spy." Alex gave a bit of a laugh. "A spy would have the means to learn everything about a person. Disguises, brains, tools."
"Hmm. A spy. Or someone like a spy . . ."
Alex gave Sam a confused glance.
Sam stood abruptly. "I've gotta go, Al. See you in school tomorrow."
As she reached for the door, she gave a quick reminder to her friend. "Don't forget about your project. It's due Wednesday."
"I know," Alex replied. "I have an idea but I haven’t had time to start yet.  Oh well, I still have four days.  See you on Monday."

It was two weeks since he had talked to Katie now, and Darren was still at odds about what to do with the story Katie had spilled to him.  He had promised not to tell - but clearly Katie needed help that he alone could not give.  Not only was he worried about Katie being in the same environment as a drug addict, but he also wasn't certain that she had told the truth about her father.  In his mind it didn't add up that a man who beats one of his chidlren would refrain from beating the other.  Darren saw no evidence that Katie was a violent person herself, but often, he knew, abused children prove submissive and easily frightened.  Now Katie acted quite the opposite with her friends, but he asked himself, how did she act around adults?  Darren tried in vain to think of a time Katie had spoken with Mrs. Makelle or one of their other teachers.  When he couldn't think of such a time, it dawner on him that Katie often avoided speaking with or being alone with adults.  Her behaviour seemed to point to an abusive apst, though Darren still couldn't be sure.  He recalled also that Katie had been extremely vehement about her father's love for her, however, and that could mean that he didn't show love and she felt she must earn it.  In that case she could be in grave danger and Katie couldn't blame him for trying to help.  But then again, he had promised . . . wait a minute.  He had only promised not to tell any of their friends.  He hadn't promised not to phone social services and get her out of there.  What harm would it do?  Only good would come of it.  Darren picked up the receiver of the phone.

Lionel hurried to the front entrance at the beckon of the doorbell.  At its refrain, he grumbled to himself.  To put it frankly, he had been less than good-tempered recently, and he almost wished that things would go back to the way they were before Alex and monica had reintroduced themselves into Chandler's life.  But then he recalled that life had not been sweet then, either.  Quite the opposite in fact.  Chandler had been moody, and the job had been dull, each minute dragging by with no hope of a better today tomorrow.  All that until Alex and Dereck came along  with no children of his own, Lionel found the presence of Chandler's comforting.  He remembered the depressing lull he had fallen into alongside his boss two years ago when all of Alex, Dereck and Monica disappeared to California.  At least now Lionel still had the pleasure of caring for the kids even if Monica was gone forever.  And of course he couldn't forget his own wife, _______, who had always been there for him, never wavering.
He peeked through the French windows before opening the door.  Chandler had been quite displeased with the cousins of the Paparazzi and the men in blue lately, several of which came tapping at the door at least twice a day.  If the visitor proved one of these banes, Lionel was tempted to throw open the door and tell them off.  But it wasn't either of those.  It was a mixture of both, and itw as Alex's bane, not Chandler's - Katie Chilton.  Shaking off the hankering to chase her away with a broom like a hungry gray rat, Lionel unlocked and opened the door.  "Good day, Miss Chilton."
"Er, hello, Lionel.  Is Alex home?"  Katie chewed her tongue nervously and Lionel could see that she wasn'ta cting her usual self today.
He softened his voice a tad.  "Of course, dear. Do come in."
Katie stepped into the foyer, shivering off the snowflakes that had gathered on her head and shoulders.  She removed her jacket and sneakers and stood quietly, unsure of what to do next.
"She's in the diningroom lunching.  You can join her if you like."  Lionel gestured for Katie to follow him.
"Um, okay.  Thanks."
When Alex saw them enter, she stood abruptly, knocking a few utensils to the floor with a clatter.  "Oh, hi katie.  What are you doing here?"  In the fewest words possible, Alex was annoyed.  Didn't she have enough on her plate with her mother missing and the new prospect of Hans Gentil being her captor (they still hadn’t had word from INTERPOL about that theory), and that entire English project she still hadn't begun but was due to be finished on Monday?  She didn't need Katie here now disrupting her life further.
Chandler stood also, and unbuckled Dereck from his highchair.  "Well, I'll leave you girls alone.  I'm going to go call Ross and see if he's heard anything."  He hadn't, of course.  Chandler already knew that much, but he had nothing else constructive to do with time.  Time - he was beginning to despise time quite a bit.  It was always there, ticking by, each minute more precious than the next, and each second more agonizing than the next.  His beloved could be anywhere, and for all he knew, she might be killed within the next hour.
Lionel followed Chandler and Dereck out, promising to bring Katie a plate of food.  Katie sat down across from Alex, who was picking up her fork and knife.  When Lionel returned, the girls were sitting in uncomfortable silence.  Katie thanked him and began to wolf down her food.  Maybe she was a hungry gray rat after all.  Lionel turned to leave.
Alex continued with her meal also, but soon her curiosity got the better of her and she couldn't keep quiet any longer.  "I hate to sound rude, Katie, but why are you here?"  Hey, while they were alone, was this not the perfect time to initiate a conversation about the things Alex hated about Katie?  "Because honestly, I know you don't like me Katie.  You act as if making my life difficult is your ultimate goal."
"Alex, I-"
By this time all of Alex's augmented anger was too loosed for her to even notice that Katie wasn't calling her 'Alexis' like usual.  "No really, Katie.  You're always putting me down to make yourself feel better.  And that's only because you're jealous of me!  I'm a famous movie star and you're merely a commoner.  Darren Schiller is my best friend and you want him for yourself.  You always try to steal him from me.  He told me taht you two went to a movie last weekend.  Maybe it was a date in your eyes, Katie Chilton, but not to Darren.  He's not like that.  It's won't work, Katie, and you know it.  So why are you here in my house eating my food?"
Katie's breath caught in her throat - so Darren hadn't told Alex.  She knew she could trust him.
"Alex, I'm sorry you feel that way.  And I'm sorry that I've acted like that.  But the key word is 'act.'  I don't know if you remember, but before you went into acting, I was a lot nicer to you."
Alex glared at Katie suspiciously.  "Yeah, I remember.  In grades one and two, we were best friends."
"That was before Sam switched to our school.  Then the next year Jane moved here from France.  And that was about the time you started auditioning for commercials.  It started earlier, though, when Sam transferred.  You two always excluded me.  I thought it was because - maybe - only two people could be friends at once.  But I was young, and I didn't know.   When Jane came, she proved that theory wrong.  I was jealous of you.  Then you started getting special treatment when you became an actor.  Teachers gave you omits because you were always missing school.  And I was barely scraping by.  And you got so much attention.  I didn't understand why it is that perfect famous people get all the attention while people like me get none, when I felt like I needed it more.  And then you were in 'Queen of Hearts,' and you found your father.  You were no longer a 'commoner' like me.  Before, you had a single mother and not much money.  Back then I couldn't envy you because your life was a lot like mine, even though even then I saw it as much better.  But when you got everything - oh, Alex.  And when Darren Schiller came to our school - my favourite movie star - he would hardly give me the time of day because you two were attached at the hip.  Needless to say, I was overjoyed when you went off to California.  But even then I saw your face in the paper every day.  Your miniscule problems were magnified to gigantic size, while no one seemed to care about me.  Alex, you have to understand.  Regardless of all my envy of you, I admire you!  You're everything I've always wanted to be.  I've only acted the opposite because I know that I could never ever be like you.  I'm sorry."  She hung her head.
Flabbergasted, Alex could only stare across the table at Katie.  All at once she felt like a villain - as if she was playing the role of tragic hero.  Of course, even Katie would remember from Mr. Dardren's english class that tragic hreoes display both the good in people and the overwhelming evil that eventually proves to be the cause of the hero's disastrous downfall.  Here was Alexis Bing's hubris - for she was in actuality, perhaps a mite arrogant in response to Katie's usually down-on-life attitude.  The last movie Uncle Joey had starred in - a modern-day 'Oedipus Rex' set in America with Oedipus as the president rather than the king - could now be playing out in real life.  Eyes open the entire time, Alex had been blind to Katie's suffering.  She closed her eyes so that, like Oedipus once he stabs his eyes again and again to sheer pain and blindness, she might see the truth - for she didn't know the half of it yet.
"I don't think you've ever noticed, Alex, but we're a lot alike.  All I ever do at home is read Nancy Drew Files.  That's why English is my best subject, cos I read all the time.  We both like Darren.  And I love to act - it's just that no one ever sees me in your limelight since you're such a great actor."
So Alex apparently wasn't the only one blind to Katie's problems.  She kept her eyes shut tightly.
Katie continued, with an unsteady voice for the first time.  "There's one other thing we have in common - and that's the fact that we both have family problems.  The only difference is that yours are advertised on the six o'clock news and no one even looks twice at me."
Alex remembered the concers she had had when she had come out of hiding.  Only her act of running away would be publicized even though she wasn't even endangered.
A single tear ran from the corner of Katie's eye.  "I didn't go to the movies with Darren last weekend, Alex.  And the reason is when Darren got to my apartment he saw my mom lying on the floor.  She was high."  Here Katie's voice broke completely.  "We went for a walk and I told him everything.  Well . . . al-almost everything.  My mother is a drug addict.  We're practically broke because of her even though my dad works two jobs.  Then my sister tried to commit suicide last week.  It's her third time.  She slit her wrists and she's still in the hospital because she lost so much blood."  She paused.  "But I lied to Darren about one thing - my dad beats me, Alex."  katie rolled up the sleeves of her shirt to reveal several purple and taupe bruises blemishing her fair skin.  "I couldn't take it anymore, not with Karen away from home.  And so I copied you.  I'm running away.  And I'm never going back.  I just came rom Darren's but he wasn't there - so I came to you.  Please let me stay here, and don't tell anyone.  I don't want my parents to find me, Alex. Oh . . . I need your friendship now more than ever."
Alex stood up and walked around the dining table.  She took Katie's hands in hers and helped her up.  Then she wrapped her arms around Katie in a warm hug.  "Of course you can stay here," she whispered.  "And, Katie - I'm sorry too." 
Alex had closed her eyes just in time.  She thought that if it really was true that wisdom is achieved through suffering, then Katie would be wiser than Alex ever could hope to be.

At the same time that Alex was learning the truth about Katie, a man with bleached blond hair lay on the couch in his California livingroom. A woman with long red hair stood over him, terror dancing in her eyes. A bright orange and red scarf and little black book littered the floor of an otherwise tidy room. Detective Johnson stood at the door, drinking in the scene.
"He was going to kill me," the woman gulped. She looked toward the Detective and pointing at the scarf, cried, "He was going to strangle me!"
Her breathing was rapid and irregular.
"I know," Johnson replied. "He was not who you thought he was. He was not who lots of people thought he was. The man you knew as Bruce Lovell was really Hans Gentil. Does the name ring a bell?"
"He told me everything," the woman mewed. "He kills women for fun. And I was his next client."

"On January the 10th, 2013, Hans Gentil's latest wife poisoned him with arsenic in his coffee. She was found not guilty of the murder, as she acted purely in self defence and will not be serving any time. At any rate, Gentil is dead, and no one will ever suffer at his hands -or scarf- again."
The class applauded.
"Great job, Sam," Freddie congratulated her.
"Thanks," Sam replied. "But now it's Alex's turn. Just wait until you hear her report."
Alex took a deep breath and stood up and walked slowly to the front of the classroom.
"I did my project on someone who has been very famous lately. Someone whose name is in every newspaper, tabloid and magazine every day. Everyone gossips about her and speculates about where she could be. But this someone isn't just someone to read and gossip about. That someone is my mother, Monica Geller."
Alex produced a poster covered with photos, and several yellowed papers. At the top the title stood out in bold silver letters: My Mother, My Hero.
"For the first ten years of my life, I was an only-child. Monica Geller was an only-parent. She worked hard as a head-chef in a restaurant to support me and give me what I needed and wanted. We were so close - best friends. I never thought I could have anymore than my mom. I never knew I could want more than just my mom. Then I met my father, Chandler Bing. I had been in a few commercials, and when I heard about a movie advertising for a girl-next-door star, I begged my mom to take me for an audition. Reluctantly, she agreed. Now I look back on that day, and I wonder at how she could have allowed me to go. She knew that my father would be there. From there, our lives only complicated. I think she was so accustomed to having me to herself, that the idea of sharing me with another person was frightening. Only now do I understand that that is why she turned down my dad when he proposed to her. And I love her for it. Back then, I hated her for it, but it was a hard and perhaps necessary decision for her. Now I know you've all heard terrible stories about why we moved to California, but here is the truth: my mom couldn't make the right decision that time. I imagine she still didn't want to share me, but she was also hurt so much by my dad having a new girlfriend. When we were in California, we met Hans Gentil." Sam grinned at Alex. "If my mom hadn't agreed to return to New York, our lives certainly would have been greatly endangered. As you've just heard, Mr. Gentil was a cold-blooded murderer, and I'm positive that my mom was next on his list. He told her that he loved her. Imagine: Mom was strong enough to live through that ordeal, and at the same time agree to come back here to face my dad. I can't believe she did it now, but I'm so relieved she did. Her problems didn't end there, however. Do you see her face anywhere but in the paper? No. That's because she has gone missing, and she is believed to have been kidnapped. And I believe that she is still alive. A poem we found when we discovered she had been kidnapped, asks 'Would you do anything? Whatever it takes?' I believe in my heart and mind and soul she'll do anything, whatever it takes to come back to me and my brother Dereck."
The class began to applaud but Alex put up her hand for silence.
"Through all this, my mom and I have learned something." She looked straight at Katie. "No matter how difficult your problems are, there is always someone with worse problems, whether they are advertised in tabloids or not."

"Only bills again, Lionel?" Chandler questioned, taking the mail from his butler's hand.
"Er, no sir. There seems to be something else among the usual bills and fanmail."
"Really! And what else would there be?" He flipped through the mail and stopped at an envelope covered in letters cut from magazines. The letters made out Chandler's address. "Hmm, interesting." His non-chalance did not match the worried beat of his heart. Could it be a ransom note? He tore it open hastily, ripping the envelope nearly in half.
"Sir, might I suggest that you put on some gloves before you touch what's inside ... if indeed it is a ransom note as I have presumed, then the police might like to see the fingerprints."
"Good idea, Lionel," Chandler agreed. He felt his throat close. So Lionel thought it was a ransom note, too.
The note inside was made up of letters cut from magazines as well. It seemed to be in the format of the stereotypical ransom note.

mr. BiNg
iF yoU WANT 2 c heR AgaIn yOud BEtTer givE mOneY
pUt 100 000 uNder THE Bench @ thE folLOwing ADDress
by 9 FRIdAY morNiNg or u wIll reGRET it

A New York address in typed characters followed the message.
"This confirms my suspicions, Lionel," Chandler gulped. "Monica has been kidnapped. Now I can prove it to the police."
"Sir, look at the signature."
"A signature on a ransom note?" Chandler shook his head with disbelief. Sure enough, there was a signature at the bottom of the crude note. Phoebe Lombard. "Phoebe? Oh, this must be a joke. I'll call her right away."
Chandler picked up the phone and dialed the Lombard residence. Phoebe answered.
"Phoebe, what is this joke that you're trying to play?" Chandler attempted in vain to disguise his growing anger and disgust.
"What are you talking about, Chandler?" Phoebe sounded concerned.
"You know what I'm talking about!" he shouted. "This fake ransom note you sent to me! How could you do this to me when I'm in such pain already?"
"Chandler, I have no idea what you're getting at!" Phoebe protested.
Chandler slammed down the phone and sank back into a chair.
About twenty minutes later Phoebe and Philip arrived at the door. Lionel let them in. "Watch out ... Mr. Bing is ready to wring your neck, Ms. Lombard."
Phoebe gulped. From Chandler's position across the room, she could see the hurt in his eyes. "Chandler."
"Phoebe." Chandler glared out from under angry brows.
Philip said nothing but immediately walked over to where the ransom note lay. "Phoebe, this is your signature."
Phoebe looked over his shoulder. "Oh my God, Philip ... you're right. That's my signature. But - but what the hell?! I didn't write this, or create it or whatever you want to say. What is this all about, Philip?" Panic entered Phoebe's eyes. "I swear I didn't do this."
"You're how old, Phoebe?" came Chandler's empty, broken voice. "A little too old for pranks such as these, aren't you?"
"Chandler," Phoebe pleaded, turning toward him, "you have to believe that I didn't do this. I wouldn't ever hurt you like that. I have never seen this note in my life ... although the signature is mine. I don't know how this could have happened! I think you ought to go to the police with it. There may be fingerprints on it. It could be a trick on the part of Monica's kidnapper, Chandler. Don't you see that? They've done this purposely."
Chandler didn't say anything. He sat woodenly.
Lionel moved closer to the Lombards. "Take it to the police. Mr. Bing is in no condition to leave the house." He was serious.
Philip nodded. He took the letter in one gloved hand then Phoebe's hand in the other.

"An interesting story," Inspector Japp said through thin lips. "And an interesting theory, Mrs. Lombard. But I believe you must have written this letter."
"Oh, come on, Inspector, why would I sign the ransom note? You have no evidence that I wrote this!"
"Except that you signed it," he replied easily. "I'm afraid you'll have to stay overnight here. I have a lot of questions to ask you."
Phoebe looked at Philip with pleading eyes. But Philip couldn't do a thing. He just hugged her tight.

As soon as the other "Avengers" learned that their ring leader had been detained, they hurried together to the precinct where Phoebe was being held. Philip was standing near the entrance when they arrived, and he rushed to Rachel's side, ready to explain.
Excitedly, Philip spoke rapidly with hardly a break between each word. "It happened like this: Chandler received a ransom note for Monica's kidnap. It included instructions of where to put the money, et cetera, and it was signed by Phoebe! No, no, it wasn't signed by Phoebe, but it had her name at the bottom! And now they're interrogating her but she didn't do this thing! And Phoebe refused her right to a lawyer. She said she doesn't trust them, and then the Inspector just laughed at her. And she's not that stupid as to sign a ransom note! I don't get how this could have happened!"
"Calm down, Philip," Rachel said soothingly. "We'll get this all worked out."
"Where's Chandler?" Joey asked, glancing around worriedly. She handed Joelana to her husband and wandered a few yards, alert for a sign of her brother.
"He's back at his place. He was terribly upset over this ordeal, maybe even moreso than I am. I don't think Lionel would have let him leave - he said to us as we left that Chandler was in no condition to go anywhere." Philip glared at nothing in particular. "I'm fairly certain they don't have enough evidence to keep Pheebes here overnight, so I think we're safe. But she's a suspect now."
"We have to clear her name!" Joey declared. "I won't have my best friend suspected of such a heinous crime."
The rest of the group stared in disbelief at Joey.
"Where did you learn the word 'heinous', Joe?" Ross asked confusedly.
Joey's wife explained: "It was in one of his lines in our last movie. I'm still not sure he knows the exact meaning, but I think he gets the gist of it." She chuckled at Joey's pouty face.
After that, the conversation died down, and the Avengers stood quietly, deep in thought.
Ross broke the silence. "You know, I think I have an idea, guys. Philip, where's the ransom note?"
Philip gave Ross an inquiring look but replied without question.
"I'm not real sure." Pointing, he continued: "That lady at the desk over there took it from me. Ask her."

Ross returned a few moments later empty-handed. Colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked quite excited. "She let me look at it. I know how we can clear Phoebe's name. But to do it, we have to make sure that she stays in custody until after tomorrow morning."

There was a rap on the two-way mirror. Inspector Japp stood up, glaring at Phoebe, and sidled to the door. He opened it a crack and exchanged a few murmurs with his commanding officer.
Phoebe caught a glance of Philip outside the door. She gave a little wave along with a disheartened stare. Philip returned her acknowledgement with an encouraging smile and a sly wink. When Phoebe conveyed that she did not understand his implications, he began to mouth something. She shook her head, and Philip repeated it.
"You are going to stay here tonight," Phoebe whispered, a confused frown crossing her already haggard face. She mouthed back, "Why?"
But it was too late. Inspector Japp snapped the door shut, abruptly ending the conversation between Pheobe and Philip.
"Well, well, Ms. Lombard."
"Well what?" Phoebe gave a nervous giggle. She could feel her heart fluttering excitedly. What was going on?
"Tuesday afternoon you had a guest at your home, did you not?"
"Yes, I-"
"Good, good. A female guest with long, dark hair."
"Of course, that was my friend Deborah-" Phoebe stammered.
"Your friend Deborah? Is Deborah afraid of your husband?"
"No, they've never met." Phoebe shot a defiant look at the Inspector.
"Ah, I see." Inspector Japp circled the table, staring hard at his suspect. "And yet you ushered this long and dark-haired woman out of the room when your husband entered it. Why was that, Phoebe Lombard?"
The colour in Phoebe's cheeks flamed to a deep red shade. "I don't have to tell you that, Inspector."
"Fine with me," he replied simply. "I have but one more question to ask of you."
"What is it?"
"Do you keep something live in your basement?"
"Why, yes. Two weeks ago I found-"
"Very good. Satisfactory answers, Ms. Lombard. I'm afraid you will have to stay here overnight. We'll talk to you again tomorrow after my men search your home."
He held the door open and another officer escorted Phoebe from the room. She caught another glimpse of her husband as she was shown through the precinct to a lonely cell. One last bitter glimpse.

"There are one hundred bills in here. One hundred thousand dollars. All of it. Those stupid police will think an accomplice of the Lombard girl's picked it up."
There was a laugh. It wasn't evil, but hearty. It was heartening to know that all was going according to plan.

"Mr. Lombard?"
Philip was jolted from sleep. His back had a stitch in it. He was dreadfully tired. And he didn't know where he was.
When he yawned and looked about, he saw that he was still in the police precinct, seated in a hard plastic chair.
"What time is it?" he asked.
The man who had woken him replied, "Eleven o'clock. In the morning."
"Oh!" Philip yawned. Jumping up, he cried, "Where's my wife?"
"I have a few questions to ask you before I let you see her."
"Oh, all right." Philip sat down once more and the officer seated himself beside him.
"The noise you heard in your basement - did it sound strangled?"
"Yes, that's exactly how I described it to the chief last night, I believe. Strangled, very high."
"High, like how? Like a kitten?"
"Sort of, I suppose. Why do you ask?"
"We found a cat in your basement. And nothing else. Could Mrs. Lombard have been concealing one from you down there?"
"You know, now that you say that, it's all coming to me. About two weeks ago, she mentioned that a cat had been hanging around our house. I told her I didn't want it, because we already have two cats. I suppose she could have hidden the thing in our basement. She's a real animal lover, y'see."
"Yes, I see." The officer rolled his eyes.
"Is something wrong?" Philip asked innocently.
"Yes. What's wrong is that Inspector Japp is a bozo."
"What?" Playing his part perfectly, Philip snapped to alertness. "Are you releasing Phoebe?"
The officer nodded. "Apparently Mr. Bing delivered the ransom money this morning and it was picked up. With your wife in custody, she could not have done so. Come with me."
Philip stood, grinning. The Avengers had done it again.  The only thing they had to do now was to find Monica’s real kidnapper.
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