"Barb called at lunchI told her Id be home around seven."

A single tear slipped from between her lashes and dampened her cheek. Rebecca reached for a tissue and pressed it into Janets free hand. She waited a moment, then asked, "What did you do after work?"

"It was beautiful outside. -- I decided to go home on the Drive, even though the traffic is slower" She stopped again, a slight tremor noticeable in her hands.

"I remember," Rebecca said softly, "it was cool, there had been a shower"

"Yes! It had been so sticky all weekend! I stopped -- oh, its all so confusing! I cant remember where I stopped!"

Her anxiety was more pronounced now.

"Thats okay, Janet, youre doing great," Rebecca soothed. "You dont have to get everything straightened out now. Just tell me anything you can remember, even if it doesnt make sense."

Catherine gave Rebecca a startled look but remained silent.Maybe I should take her on rounds with me. Shes better at this than some of my residents. Rebecca continued to surprise, and intrigue, her.

"Thats just it! I cant make sense of what Icanremember. There are so many colors!"

"What colors, Janet?" Rebecca asked quickly, writing the word on her pad and circling it.

"I dont know!"

"Do you remember a man? Did you see a man, or a woman and a man?"

"No."

"Did you hear a woman scream?"

"No." She looked at Catherine, her face pale. "Im sorryI cant remember!"

"I believe you. Its all right," Catherine soothed. "Close your eyes for a minute, and tell me anything you seeany image, any picture in your mind at all."

"Just the number"

Rebecca sat up straight in her chair, her face tense. "What number?"

"Ninety-seven."

"Ninety-seven what? Were there letters with the number?"

"I cant rememberplease, I cant remember!"

"Thats all right, Janet," Catherine interrupted. "Youve been wonderful. Well talk again when youre a little stronger."

Rebecca forced down a protest. SheknewJanet had seen somethingshe could feel it. She also knew it would be futile to try to prolong the interview. Clearly Catherine felt the young woman had had enough. Rebecca pocketed her notebook and stood up, her anger surfacing as she surveyed the battered, terrorized woman before her. She intended to put an end to this reign of terror.

Chapter Nine

Catherine joined Rebecca in the hall outside Janets room. She didnt miss the hard stillness of Rebeccas face.

"Not much help?" Catherine asked.

Rebecca passed a hand across her face and sighed. "Not much. Theres something there, thoughIm sure of it."

"Im almost positive Janet walked up on the rape," Catherine said as they began to walk. "That might explain Janets extreme reaction, and the symptoms shes displaying now."

"Can you press her on the numberand try to find out more about the colors?"

"Not now," Catherine replied. "Shes blocking because shes not psychologically prepared to cope with what she witnessed."

Rebecca suppressed her impatience. She had no doubt Catherine was right, but sheneededthis girl to remember! Her powerlessness was eating her up inside.

"Will you let me know when I can talk to her again? I really need her, Catherine."

"I know, Rebeccaof course."

Rebecca stopped in front of the elevator, at a loss for words. She didnt want to say good-bye, and she didnt know how to move forward. The bell rang, announcing that the elevator had arrived. Catherine was so close to her she could smell her subtle perfume. Catherines hand was on her arm, her fingers softly caressing. Her green eyes held Rebeccas with a tenderness she could drown in.

"I want to see you again," Rebecca said hastily, "not about the case. Can I call you?"

Catherine realized she had been holding her breath. She let it out with a soft sigh as the elevator doors slid open. It took all her will power to step back from Rebeccas body when all her desires urged her closer.

"Oh, yes. Ill be waiting."

**********

Rebecca drove back to the station with her thoughts divided between Janets scanty recollections and the exchange with Catherine at the elevator. Catherine touched off a physical response so intense it was actually painful. She was wet again, and throbbing. It was all she could do to keep her mind on the traffic.

Her pager went off just as she pulled into the parking lot. She pushed open the heavy double doors and took the stairs to the third floor two at a time. Leaning over the counter at the intake desk, she called, "Frye, here. Whats up?"

The frazzled dispatcher, sweating profusely in her blue uniform, turned to her from the computer console.

"Jeff Cruz is not responding to his calls. The Captain wants to see you pronto."

Rebecca swore under her breath as she hurried to the glass enclosed office at the end of the hall. She rapped at the door marked "Captain John Henry" in peeling black letters. The black man behind the desk was fiftyish, fit and big. His iron grey hair was cut short, and his demeanor authoritative. The white shirt he wore was stiff with starch, and his tie was tightly knotted, even in the ninety degree heat.

"Wheres your partner?" he barked without preamble as Rebecca entered his office.

"I dont know," Rebecca said with a worried frown. "He had a meet with Ronnie Carmichael, the undercover guy working the Zamora case. Hes the one we think is running the kiddy porn business in the tenderloin."

"Yeah, I read the file. Where was the meet?"

"They change locations every time. It was just a routine check-in, Captain. Carmichael hadnt come up with much, at least not that we knew about."

Captain Henry didnt comment. Cruz and Frye were his best team, and he gave them a lot of slack to run their own cases. It wasnt unusual for them to be involved with other divisions, particularly narcotics, on cooperative investigations. They werent careless. If Cruz was in trouble, he had walked into something he hadnt expected.

Rebecca was thinking the same thing. Something felt wrong.

"I dont like it, Captain. Somethings gone down. We need to find himfast."

"Weve got an all points out on him and his car. Well get a fix on him soon."

"What about the contactCarmichael?"

Henry fanned his hands out over his desk. "No word. Theyre both out there loose somewhere."

Rebecca turned abruptly and headed toward the door. She had to find Jeff, and she knew him better than anyone. It could take all night for a cruiser to spot his car. She wasnt going to leave him out there alone.

"Frye!" Henry called. "I want you here, coordinating the search, until we have something definite."

"Let Rogers do it," she said, whirling to face him, her jaw set stubbornly.

"I wantyouon it, Frye." He stared back at her. His expression changed slightly, and he lowered his voice. "Weve got two missing cops already. I dont want you out there alone."

"But Jeff"

"Thats an order, Frye."

She gritted her teeth, and nodded. "Yes, sir."

**********

When Rebecca entered the squad room, the noise level suddenly dropped. Feet shuffled, someone cleared his throat, a few people looked away. Everyone knew what she must be feelingher anger, her helplessnessand none of them quite knew what to say. So they handled it the way they always did, by doing the job, by carrying on. Someone put a lukewarm cup of coffee in her hand.

She sat at her desk, fists clenched in her pockets, and watched the clock. The men from the day shift stayed, even though many of them had been on duty for close to eighteen hours by then. Gina Simmons, a young rookie, came in silently and piled boxes of pizza on the littered coffee table. Rebecca shook her head when someone offered her a slice. They stood around in groups eating, spilling bits of oil and cheese on the floor.

The call finally came in at ten-thirty. A cruiser had spotted Jeffs car on a deserted pier at the waterfront. Rebecca was on her feet and halfway to the door when a hand on her arm restrained her.

"Ill ride with you, Frye."

Rebecca turned toward the stocky man beside her, struggling to control her temper. She had never liked William Watts. He was a lonera cynical, caustic cop who didnt seem to give a damn about his job. She couldnt figure out why he was a cop, and she didnt want to deal with him now.

"Not tonight, Watts," she said tersely, brushing off his hand.

He jerked his head toward the hallway, his face impassive. "Captains orders."

She turned on heel, heading toward the stairs. She didnt have time to waste on this. Watts hurried after her.

Rebecca gunned the MG out of the lot and slapped the red light onto her roof. When the traffic ahead didnt yield fast enough, she veered around them into the oncoming lanes. They were the first to reach the scene. There were cruisers pulled off the four-lane highway at odd angles, and men with dogs were combing the waterfront.

Rebecca climbed out and surveyed the area. Jeffs car was parked under an overpass, the only civilian vehicle in sight. To her right a huge crane stood like a lonely sentinel over the abandoned site of someones waterfront dream. To her left, facing the water, were a cluster of darkened buildingsthe maritime museum, an attached souvenir shop, and a curb-side hotdog stand.

She headed toward the buildings, Watts close behind her. She neither spoke to him nor acknowledged his presence.

"Why not the crane?" he asked, out of breath from the pace Rebecca had set.