Gerald Maxwell had been interviewed by the police and sent on to the hospital for repairs along with a mentally empty Zeena, who wasn't coherent during any of the questioning. A stocky little policewoman with a butch haircut, flat shoes and an incongruously coloured silk scarf, took Ted's statement again and advised him to remain in the hotel or at least in Hammond until they were able to ascertain Miss West's condition.

"Why would that involve me?"

"We only have your word that you heard suspicious sounds and called for assistance. You might have been the rapist."

"What? Are you nuts? You have the guy's statement. Did he say it was me?"

"No, sir."

"Well then?"

"Officer Wren." The tall detective who conducted the first interviews marched over to Ted and the policewoman. "Is there something additional you needed from this gentleman?"

"No, sir."

"Then I suggest you accompany your partner to the hospital and see what you can get from the victim when she's able."

"Yes, sir." She almost saluted and stalked away on little milk bottle legs.

"Sorry about her." She is so by the bloody book it's scary sometimes."

"You called her officer Wren?" Ted grinned.

"Yes. Abigale Wren, of the Wren Plumbing and Heating firm."

"Is that significant?"

"If you want water or heat in your home in Hammond it is. They are very big in this city. By the way, it was a good thing you heard his cry for help. He was losing a lot of blood from that mashed face. Apparently he and the woman were here screwing one another's brains out as well as sampling various stimulants. His blood had no chance of clotting and she is in very bad shape. The animal that did those things is really one sick puppy... no pun intended."

"Is this a case of jealous boyfriend or a random room invasion or what?"

"Could be. The man isn't very forthcoming on the circumstances yet. We're sending someone out to his home to notify the wife. Poor woman. It's always these older guys that want the young dames to play with."

"Yeah." Ted hastily calculated the difference between he and Toni and didn't think he qualified.

"I know it's inconvenient but Wren was actually correct in asking you to remain available until we get everybody's statement verified. And you'll need to come down and sign your own statement when it's ready."

Ted laughed and shook his head. "A price to pay for every good deed."

"Sorry." The detective moved back to the group examining the room.

Ted went back to his own room and dug out his print outs from the computer shop. Gabe Tucker perfectly matched the description the man had given. Never mind the fact that he said he heard his companion call him Gabe. Ted felt his stomach clench as he realized how close he'd been to the killer of Nadine. When the cops had entered Tucker's room they found nothing except an address for a Curtis Martin and Ted managed to stay in the way long enough to make sure he learned what it was.

******

Curtis threw all the luggage in the trunk of his Ford Taurus and then ran back upstairs for one last check. Sandra sat in the car and waited and while she did she turned on the radio in time to hear the late breaking news about the rape in the Grantly Hotel and the suspect named Gabe Tucker.

"Curtis jumped into the driver's seat. "All set?"

"Listen a minute." She pushed the buttons until she heard another newscast and then waited, one finger up for silence. When the story was repeated, Curtis slumped in his seat and gaped at her.

"What the devil was he doing?"

"Being Gabe." Sandra said.

"But they didn't catch him?"

"Nope, which means he could be looking for me again right now; and he knows I'm with you."

"You can't be sure."

"You said he winked at you in the bank, Curtis. You think he won't want to ask you where I am then?"

Curtis thought about the extent of the assault in the news report and he uttered a worried groan. "Where can we go?"

"Anywhere, but it has to bee soon and far."

"This highway is the only one until you reach Paris Flats. East or west it's the same story. He won't have any trouble following us if he guesses right. We need to get to an airport or the train station."

"Forget the train. Sitting in the station is suicide; Gabe'll check all those possibilities first if he finds you gone." She tapped her fingers on the dash.

"You're not suggesting I stay behind?"

"Of course not, I'm just saying. We need a safe place, a place Gabe wouldn't go near." She pulled at her lower lip. "Turn the news on again, see what else they have to say."

Curtis found an all news station and after an agonizing series of commercials it came back with the big story of the day—the assault and rape in the Grantly Hotel. They listened to interviews with staff and a short bit from the hotel's owner and then an, at-the-scene recap by a tinny sounding reporter. Police were on their way to the Maxwell home to speak with the male victim's wife.

Constable Abigale Wren, daughter of Winston Wren, prominent business tsar in Hammond, told this reporter that they were only hours away from apprehending the beast that committed this heinous act. Gerald Maxwell, the male victim, is an executive officer at Barscap Technologies Limited in Hammond and the female is also a member of the executive staff of the same company. Mr. Maxwell maintains a large estate in Treestock Hills, the exclusive community in Hammond's northern suburb and is a neighbour of Win—".

Sandra shut it off. "That's it, Curtis."

"What?"

"We head up to Maxwell's home. Gabe wouldn't dare go there with cops conducting their investigation."

"What do you mean, go there? We can't just invite ourselves in."

"No but at least we'd be safe from Gabe until we can come up with a solid plan."

"I don't think that's much of an idea." Curtis frowned and stared out the window. "Even if we do get up there, the police will be there."

"Look, let's at least drive by. If nothing else we know we don't have to watch for Gabe for a little while. And we can cruise around until the cops leave." She saw him getting ready to balk again and she leaned across the seat and took his hand. "Just drive by, Curtis... for me...huh?"

"Okay. But we need to put our minds to a proper plan, not just driving around, okay?"

"Deal." She patted his hand and sat back, turning her thoughts to eluding Gabe and parting Curtis from all this money he hinted at as soon as safely possible.

******

Arlene hustled John into her walk-in closet and then threw on a robe before skipping quickly down the stairs and answering the door. The knock had come at a particularly inopportune moment and John had panicked, leaping off the bed and sneaking to the window. When he whispered frantically that it was a police car in the drive, Arlene copied his panic and bounded across the room to her closet, retrieving her robe and shoving him inside.

"Mrs. Maxwell?" The grave expression on the male officer's face, contrasting with the almost gleefully evil look on the shorter, woman's, gave her stomach a twist and she nodded slowly. "May we come in, it's something that you should perhaps be sitting down to hear."

That did it. Arlene pictured Gerald on a morgue slab, the victim of another random robbery attack or a drunken driver or- or...

"I'm Sergeant Cannoti and this is Constable Wren... uh- Mrs. Maxwell, earlier this morning your husband was the victim of an assault in his hotel room at the Grantly in Hammond.' Arlene clutched her throat. "He's fine now and being attended to at the hospital. He is still pretty shaken but he'll be all right."

"What in God's name happened?" She blinked a few times as her mind shot back to his phone call. Arlene... I love you.

"Uh, did you know why your husband was staying at the hotel?"

"Yes, he was meeting with some very important clients from ah- Crawford Sales I believe."

Constable Wren made a funny noise and Arlene gave her a sharp look.

"Did your husband have his car at the hotel?"

"Of course, that's how he got there. Will you ple—"

"What kind of car does your husband drive?"

"It's last year's model BMW Sport Coupe. Why?"

He turned to Wren who shook her head. "His car keys are missing then and the automobile you describe wasn't in the hotel garage." He nodded Wren out with the command to put out an alert.

"Do you know a Zeena West?" Wren blurted before leaving, ignoring the burning look from her Sergeant.

Arlene swallowed. "She uh- she's Gerald's executive assistant at Barscap."

"How about a Gabriel Tucker?"

"Go and put out a bolo for that car, Constable." The Sergeant's voice was brittle. "He turned back and apologized then repeated the question.

She frowned and shook her head. "No. Who is he? What happened for God's sake?"

"Take it easy, Mrs. Maxwell. Zeena West was raped by this Gabriel Tucker... in your husband's hotel suite."

"Wha...!" She wavered on the chair and the Sergeant grabbed her arm to steady her. "Raped! Zeena?"

"In your husband's suite." He added, surprised by her response.

Arlene's cheeks tinged red over her pallor and she sank down on the chair to detract from his comment.

"Can I get you some water or something?" Cannoti asked. She shook her head and he waited a beat before continuing. "Gabriel Tucker fits the description of a man who was involved in a diner robbery a short time ago... a diner your husband happened to be in at the time. Until we can understand the connection this Tucker had with your husband or the woman we have to assume these events might be less than coincidental. Do you have any ideas on that line?"

She shook her head slowly and began calculating her own exposure in an intense investigation.