| CHAPTER ONE Ian Dice awoke in a now known alleyway for the third time that week. Each time he awoke, he was frustrated. The dream, remembered fleetingly before the chilled winds of morn snatched it from his memory, eluded him. He had no recollection of what drove his sleep walking excursions. Only that he ended up here every time. 'If only the guys at the station could see me now,' he thought bitterly. Thirty-seven and at the height of his career, and here he was standing baffled in a dirty, "white" shirt, and boxers that have faded "Great Mouse Detectives" on it which had obviously seen better days. The only reasonable explanation was his newest case. He started his long walk home as he reviewed the facts in the ostensibly unbreakable case that he was determined to crack. There was a burglar breaking into the mansions of the elite throughout the Tampa Bay area. This much he knew. The "Ghost Cat", as he had come to be known by the papers, would break into ('Not hindered by even the most elaborate security system's,' Ian thought dully.) and create a disaster area of upturned tables, and broken glass. These clutters of broken objects are made predominately in the kitchen, or anywhere fine china is kept. Some interns aching to be of use, made such wild claims that the Ghost Cat was an antiquities dealer. When asked why, they would say that he was possibly smashing everyone else's china to make his more valuable. This didn't sit well with the veteran Dice. For starters, once all the china in the area was destroyed, it would be all too obvious who it was doing the smashing. The Ghost was definitely too clever to fall into such a trap. Also, most of the dealers in the area were aged, balding men in their upper forties and fifties. None of whom would be able to execute the lithe and intricate moves the Cat would have needed to use to gain entry to the victimized homes. Another mystery that Ian could not stop brooding over was noise. How could the people not hear the china shattering? Such clamoring could wake anyone up. One thing is for sure, this Ghost Cat is looking for something, that he thought only the rich would have.' Ian's natural inclination was that the person in question who had said mysterious item would not know its value. Perhaps it was an inheritance, or gift of some sort, though he thought this without much conviction. Otherwise, the item would have been locked up safe and sound, not out in the open of a room. Wouldn't it? These thoughts circled round and round his head, before he realized why his key was not opening the door. It was the wrong house. He muttered his apologizes, seemingly to the door, and hastened to his own, unlocked house. He shuffled upstairs, put the key on the nightstand, and literally tumbled into bed. He knew nothing until� CHAPTERS 1 2 3 HOME |