Rita and Chris reacted, their cop instincts in full gear. They ran in the direction of the screams, with Mary Jo at their heels. The detectives arrived at the doorway of room 493, and encountered a nurse, clad in hospital scrubs. She was screaming hysterically and kneeling next to a prone form on the bathroom floor.
"Amy, my God, Amy!" the nurse shrieked.
Amy Lass was covered in blood, and appeared unconscious. Chris grabbed for latex gloves from a wall dispenser, and tossed a pair to Rita. He shoved the nurse aside and felt for a pulse at Amy's throat. To his horror, he noted a huge gash across the side of her neck. "She's alive but barely!" he exclaimed.
Mary Jo, who had been frozen in shock, reacted. She yelled up the hall, "Call a code!"
"Code blue, Room 493," went out on the hospital PA system.
Rita heard a slight moan from the direction of the bed, and rushed into the room. Blood was gushing from a neck wound, here, too, as well as both arms. "My baby, my baby!" Sarah's voice was barely audible, she was so short of breath. "…Stole my baby…" then her eyes closed.
Rita gasped, as she looked at the empty bassinet next to the bed, "Chris, her baby is gone!"
Mary Jo was holding pressure to Sarah's wounds, as the code team cleared the door. "Oh, no!" The usually calm nurse was frantic, "Call a Code Nap, too!" she ordered one of the nurses responding to the code.
The next few minutes were a blur. The hospital PA system droned over and over, but the call now was "Code Nap." Hospital security had phoned PBPD, unaware that there were two homicide detectives on the scene. Chaos reigned on fourth floor as the other staff nurses were assigned to making sure all the infants on the unit were with their mothers. The code team, though momentarily shocked at the bloodbath, acted quickly. Chris and Rita stepped aside as both victims were rushed from the room to available OR's.
The couple stared at each other soberly, numb to what had just happened. Rita's face was ashen, and Chris reached out a hand to steady her.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
Rita took a shaking breath and nodded. She looked back into what was now a crime scene. Blood was seeping through the linens on the bed, and dripping on the floor. It ran in rivulets from the bathroom tile to the hardwood floor of the main room. There was a roaring in her head as she glimpsed the corner of the empty bassinet. "Where was the baby?" was her last conscious thought.
Chris caught her as she fell and eased her to the carpeted floor of the hallway.
That was where Harry found them just minutes later. "What happened?" he asked tersely, kneeling besides Chris and Rita.
"Two attempted murders and a kidnapped baby," Chris answered shortly.
A nurse brought a cold pack and smelling salts and checked Rita's vital signs, "Her pressure's a little low, but her pulse is nice and steady," she reassured him. "This should bring her around." She broke the capsule and a harsh ammonia scent was waved under Rita's nose.
"Sweetheart, wake up!" Chris' voice seemed to be coming from far away.
Rita choked at the noxious fumes and her eyes fluttered open. Chris and Harry were leaning over her anxiously. She tried to sit up and was scolded, "No, you just stay put!" Harry admonished.
Then she remembered, "Oh, my God," she moaned. "Have they found the baby?"
Chris shook his head no, "Lie still, Sammy, you had a terrible shock."
She reached for the swell of her own belly, as if to assure herself that her own baby was safe. She was rewarded with a series of tiny kicks, and heaved a sigh of relief.
Keisha Reynolds from the coroner's office appeared, to process the crime scene. She made sure Rita was okay, then began to assess the room. An assistant was shooting still and video pictures, to assist in preserving evidence.
Cassy and Michael arrived, surprised to see their boss and the Lorenzos already at the scene. "Did the perp attack Rita?" Michael asked.
Chris shot him a dirty look, "No, she just fainted." He supported his wife protectively as she slowly sat up.
"I'm fine, really," she mustered a weak smile as she looked into her husband's anxious eyes.
"Then we probably should ask you some questions?" Cassy began.
Cap cut her off, "I'll ask the questions, you process the crime scene," he said curtly. Stung, Michael and Cassy pulled on gloves and joined Keisha into the room.
Harry and Chris supported Rita as they went to an office. Rita looked around. Just a short while ago, they were having their prenatal interview here. Her thoughts were jumbled, and her usual instincts were dulled by shock. As she sat next to Chris on the couch, he began to recount the events of the afternoon.
"We came in about three o'clock for that prenatal interview thing," Chris told Harry.
"Did you notice anything unusual, people out of place?" Harry prompted.
"Nah," Chris shook his head. "It seemed pretty quiet. Not too many people in the hallway."
"What about the interview, did you start on time?" Cap asked.
Rita joined in the conversation, "Mary Jo, the nurse doing the interview, was occupied for a few minutes, so we just looked at the babies in the nursery."
"Were the babies unattended, and how many babies were there?" he queried. Chris and Rita looked at each other, as if thinking, then Rita responded. "There were two. And there was a nurse rocking one of the babies."
Chris agreed, "We were looking at the other one because she had so much dark hair, and looked so tiny."
"But she weighed nine pounds," Rita smiled faintly. "Then the nurse showed up to do the interview, um, her name is Mary Jo."
"Did she seem nervous, upset, hinky?" Harry drilled.
Chris brushed the question away, "Oh, no, she was very nice, normal, relaxed." His smile was sad. "We were really enjoying ourselves."
Rita nodded in agreement, "We came to this office for the interview until about four. Then we went back to the birthing unit for a tour. We were just getting ready to leave when we heard the screams and ran to investigate."
"And that was about what time?" Cap asked.
"Four thirty," Chris was certain. "I remember thinking I couldn't believe how fast the time passed."
As Harry was interviewing his detectives, a tan Lexus was pulling into a convenience store parking lot. The driver eased the car around to the back, out of sight, and reached for the partially open gym bag on the floor. The blond-haired baby blinked sleepily as Jane cuddled him to her chest. "Oh, aren't you Mama's good little boy?" she crooned, taking in his sweet baby face. She felt little remorse for what she'd just done, because she now had what she wanted-her very own baby.
She hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, but they were in the way. She shook her head. No, she didn't regret her actions, because of her reward. Jane relived the events of the past hour as she held the infant tightly.
The room was quiet, and she mistakenly believed the mother was asleep with the baby in her arms. There didn't appear to be a nurse in attendance, either. As Jane crept in the door, the sound of water running startled her. There was Amy, one of her nurse friends, washing up in the bathroom. She froze. Amy had caught the intruder's reflection in the mirror and was puzzled. What was a surgical nurse with a mask doing in here? She took in the dark hair, and then met the stranger's eyes in the reflection.
"Jane?" she gasped aloud.
Jane grabbed the Amy's throat and tightened her grasp on the scalpel she held.
Amy fought but was no match for the athletic kidnapper. She managed to moan, "Jane, don't!" before she slumped to the floor, unconscious and bleeding.
There was a gasp from the hospital bed and Jane whirled around, her heart pounding. "Damn!" she muttered, and advanced on the helpless patient, holding the bloody scalpel.
She motioned for Sarah to give her the baby, but the young mother refused. "NO!" she managed to yell and reach for her call light.
Jane's vision blurred, and she knocked the button from Sarah's reach, "He's MY baby now," she hissed, as she plucked the sleepy baby from his mother's breast.
Sarah held on with what little strength she had, but Jane slashed at her arms. She snatched the baby away, and laid him on the floor next to the bed. She wasn't clear on what happened then. Her next conscious memory was dashing into Room 491, placing the still-sleepy baby in the bag, zipping it, and running down the stairwell.
She forced herself to slow her pace as she entered the staff parking lot, carrying her precious package. Her heart pounded in her ears as she placed the bag carefully on the front floorboard on the passenger side, and turned the key in the ignition.
The baby tried to suck on his fist, and failed. His face pinkened and he let out a wail. Jane laughed and reached for the bottle of formula she had ready in a side pocket of the bag. The baby screwed up his face at first, unaccustomed to the taste. But he soon was guzzling the bottle greedily, and was content after.
Jane glanced at the dashboard clock-5: 59PM! She reluctantly laid the baby on the seat and opened the trunk. She retrieved the car seat and fastened the slumbering child into it. She hoped he would sleep until they got to Miami.
The situation was grim in the OR. Both patients had suffered massive blood loss. Amy's injuries were more severe than her patient's, but in Sarah's already-weakened state, she was in as much trouble as her nurse. The surgeons worked frantically to save them. Blood donor alerts were broadcast through the city as news of the tragedy spread.
The story attracted national attention as the wire services picked it up. This was a case of the highest profile, and no stone would be left unturned. The FBI was called in to handle the kidnapping angle. After Cap finished interrogating Chris and Rita, the three made their way to the nurses' station. Mary Jo was in the nursery, her eyes red from weeping.
The detectives paused to talk with her, to see if she could add anything to their recollections, or give any background on the victims.
Mary Jo stated that Amy had been working on the birthing unit for about five years. She had started there fresh from nursing school, and was well liked by staff and patients both.
"Any family or friends that she had a problem with?" Cap asked.
"Oh, no!" the nurse declared. "She is just the dearest person. She and Steven…" her voice broke. "They announced their engagement last week. High school sweethearts."
"What about the patient?" Rita asked.
Mary Jo was sober, "Sad story. She has no family here, except for her daughter, Molly, She's about three, I think. Anyhow, her husband was driving drunk, when they got into an accident. He was killed, and Sarah had to deliver the baby by emergency C/Section. She bled out and ended up with a hysterectomy. She and the baby are lucky to be alive…" she started to cry again.
Rita patted her shoulder, "It's okay, Mary Jo."
The nurse's brown eyes blazed, "No, it isn't! This should never have happened! We take all the precautions and have installed security measures and for what?"
Chris assured her, "We're doing the best we can." He was curious about one thing. "Who's watching Molly?"
Mary Jo dried her eyes, "Um, friends of theirs, Dan and Liza Scott. They haven't visited very often. Sarah was really depressed after Paul was killed and she was just now starting to recover. She hadn't really wanted visitors, so they stayed away. They seemed to be nice people, just like the rest of us, though-not sure how to deal with how Paul died and how he hurt this wife and baby. I have their number in Sarah's chart."
"Thanks, we'll call them," Rita said.
The west hallway was sealed off to the public, and several uniformed security and PBPD officers milled about.
Chris pleaded with his wife for what seemed like the hundredth time, "Sammy, let's just leave. You don't need to see the crime scene again."
Rita was impatient, "Chris, that mother deserves to get her baby back. After what Mary Jo told us, we need to help."
Keisha was still working, making sure every bit of evidence was gathered and accounted for. Michael and Cassy were subdued as they briefed Cap and the Lorenzos on what they had found so far. Michael picked up an evidence bag that held a bloody scalpel, "Found this tangled in the sheets. No obvious prints, but I'm not surprised." He indicated two bags, each holding a bloodied latex glove, "Hopefully we can turn something up in those."
There was a huge amount of physical evidence, but the question was whether any of it would help them find the kidnapper. Every piece of linen was bagged, every surface dusted for prints. The crib linens were carefully preserved, because precious DNA could be gleaned to help identify the baby. The patient charts were logged as evidence, and interviews were being conducted with all the staff present on the area at the time of the incident. In addition, all off-duty staff was interviewed.
It was an exhausting process, but totally necessary. For the culprit to have taken the baby with such ease, and to escape without notice, in spite of the advanced security systems in place, the detectives were suspecting this crime originated close to home.
In the nurses' station, Chris and Rita retrieved her purse and the educational materials from their prenatal tour, and got the address for the Scotts'.
Dan and Liza Scott were trying to settle their family for the evening, but weren't having much luck. Their daughter, Kayla, and her friend Molly were using the king-sized bed in the master bedroom as a makeshift trampoline. Matthew, age four months, was fussing, demanding his mother's attention.
Dan hated to break up the little girls' fun, but it was past their bedtime. "Come on girls, if you stop jumping on the bed, I'll read you an extra story," he bargained.
The girls giggled, and continued to jump, "We're not tired!" Molly announced, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
Dan shook his head, and used a firmer tone, "Molly and Kayla, now! Off the bed, before you fall and get hurt!"
Kayla gulped and obeyed her father, but Molly pretended not to hear.
Dan forcibly picked up Molly, and set her on the floor. "It's time for bed, Molly."
Molly, usually so sweet, threw herself on the floor and started screaming, a full-blown temper tantrum, "No! I'm not tired!" she raged. "My daddy would let me stay up. I want my mommy and daddy!" Her small body shook with sobs.
Liza appeared in the doorway, Matthew at her breast. She unlatched the baby and handed him to his father. She sat on the floor besides Molly and lifted her onto her lap. The little girl quit screaming, but she continued to cry.
"Oh, sweetie, I know you miss your mommy and daddy," she crooned, smoothing her blonde curls. "But you know your mommy is sick, and Daddy is in Heaven, remember?"
Molly whimpered, "I want to go home."
"Molly, you will go home as soon as your mama is better," Liza assured her. "Besides, if you went home right now, we'd miss you very much."
Molly quieted, the only sound coming from her was an occasional sniffle.
Liza rocked her as tenderly as she did her own children, but her thoughts were troubled. She only hoped that Sarah would get better soon. She had been appalled at her friend's condition, the first time she saw her in the ICU. But even worse was Sarah's reaction to the news that she had a healthy son.
"I don't care," Sarah rasped to Liza. "I just want to die."
Liza cuddled Molly even closer, and soon the little girl was asleep.
Dan laid Matthew in his cradle, and then took Molly from his wife's arms. He tucked the little girl in next to a slumbering Kayla.
Liza wandered out into the family room, drained. She tossed toys into a big basket, and put away the Sunday paper. Dan joined her, patting her shoulder wordlessly.
The doorbell rang, interrupting their private musings. They looked at each other, startled. Dan glanced at his watch. "Nine o'clock. Wonder what…?" he muttered as he headed to the door.
Chris and Rita flashed their badges when Dan opened the door. "Palm Beach Police," Chris announced. Dan turned pale, "How may I help you?"
Rita bit her lip, "Are you Dan Scott?"
"Yes," Dan was edgy. "What's going on here?" He was distressed by the officers' sober expressions.
"We'd like to come in and talk to you and your wife, if we may," Chris answered.
Liza was now at her husband's side, "This is about Sarah, isn't it?" she was fearful.
"Yes, it is," Rita answered. "How…?"
Dan gave himself a mental shake, and let the detectives in. After they took seats in the family room, the Lorenzos broke the news of the attack on Sarah and of Paul's kidnapping. It was plain from their reactions that the Scott family had no guilty knowledge of the crimes. Still, Chris wanted to be sure.
He and Rita searched the house, only to find three sleeping children. At Matthew's cradle, Rita leaned over and stroked the baby's soft brown hair. "He's so precious," she mouthed to Liza.
Liza nodded with tears in her eyes. She scooped the sleeping baby in her arms and held him fiercely, "No one will ever take my babies." She glanced at the swell of Rita's belly.
"Is this your first?"
Rita nodded, "Yes."
"Then you'll soon see what I mean," Liza replied, leading the detective back to the family room. Rita didn't answer, but silently agreed. The bond she had with her unborn child had intensified in the last month, and she understood Liza's words all too well.
The Scotts couldn't shed any more light on who would have a motive for the attack and kidnapping, so the detectives ended the interview at ten-thirty.
Harry had taken on the dreadful task of phoning Sarah's mother in England. The woman seemed rather reserved, but did promise to make arrangements to come to Florida the next day. Michael and Cassy were back at PBPD, logging all the evidence, while Tom and Holly were in charge of security for the injured women. It was to be a long sleepless night for all…
Chris and Rita crept into the loft about midnight. The long-simmering storm broke loose, and rain slapped at the windows. Thunder growled, and lightning flashed. The couple had few words for each other, overwhelmed by the events of the day. They undressed and dropped into bed, exhausted.
Chris had just turned out the light, when the phone rang.
"Yeah, Lorenzo," he answered, his arm snaking out to draw Rita close.
She buried her head into his chest, a sense of dread coming over her.
"Uh -huh," Chris muttered. "Yeah…" "When?" "What about Sarah?"
Rita sat up, and turned the lamp on, asking a question with her eyes.
Chris hung up and sighed, "That was Tom. Amy Lass died in surgery."
Rita swallowed the lump in her throat, "And Sarah?"
"Just got out of surgery. Still alive, but unconscious," he answered. "No leads yet on the baby."
The tears that had been threatening boiled over. Rita wept in sadness and frustration, her body shaking with sobs.
Chris just held her, feeling as helpless as she did.
"Make love to me," Rita whispered fiercely. "Make me feel alive."
Their kisses were desperate, greedy, selfish even. There was the sound of fabric ripping as they comforted each other in the most elemental way that they could.
Afterwards, Chris lay with his head on Rita's belly, feeling the baby kick, "I will protect you and this baby with my life." He was vehement.
"I know you will," Rita whispered, stroking his cheek.
The next morning brought few answers to the important questions. All the nursing staff and non-professionals had been accounted for and interviewed except one. Theresa Martinez was on maternity leave, and was purportedly out of town visiting her mother in San Antonio. They had been unable to reach her as of Monday afternoon, but had left a message with her brother.
Tom and Rita were interrogating the head nurse, wanting names of anyone who had close contact with the maternity unit, and knowledge of the nursery routines.
Pamela Benson consulted the list she had compiled, and shook her head, "No, there isn't anyone…" she paused, startled.
"What?" Tom pounced.
"I forgot about Jane," the head nurse said sheepishly.
Rita scrawled in her notepad, "Jane who?"
"Jane McAttee. She's a volunteer here," Pam answered. "But she couldn't be involved," she hastened to add.
"And why do you say that?" Tom was cool.
"Jane is the Chairman of the Board's daughter in law. As a matter of fact, she and her husband Randy are in Canada right now, adopting a baby."
The detectives were on alert. Rita posed the next question, "How long has she volunteered here?" Pam thought about it, "Um, about six months."
Tom pressed, "Tell us about her, is she liked, what her duties are, how did she come to work here?"
Pam sighed, "This is hard to answer. Her father-in-law created the volunteer position for her. At first, there was a lot of resentment towards her from the staff. You know, rich woman playing at being a nurse. But she is a hard worker, shows up three times a week, and she's always pleasant. She and Randy, her husband, can't have children of their own. They've been waiting for this adoption for a long time."
"When was the last time she was here?" Rita asked, a suspicious feeling growing.
Pam shook her head, "Oh, at least a week ago. She told me she was going to her sister's wedding, and they would fly to Canada from there."
"Does her sister live around here?" Tom queried.
"No, in the Midwest somewhere? I'm not sure about that," Pam confessed.
"Would she have been familiar with the Daniels baby?" Rita wondered.
Pam leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, "Um, I don't remember. I was away at a management conference when that baby was born." She opened her eyes and frowned, "You can't really think…?"
Tom sighed, "Look, we can't rule anyone out at this point. Who would know when Jane worked in the last two weeks?"
"It would be in the assignment book," Pam led them out to the nurses' station, and asked to see the assignments for the past three weeks.
Mary Jo was working charge, and she handed Rita the book. She smiled at Rita ruefully, "Sorry our tour had such a horrible ending."
Rita patted her arm, "Not your fault, Mary Jo. Can we go somewhere and chat?"
The charge nurse glanced around and told Linda, the secretary, to hold the fort.
Tom and Rita followed Mary Jo and Pam to the coffee room, and sat down at the small table. Pam explained how the book was laid out, and who was who.
Tom and Rita pored over the entries, and saw Jane's name on the schedule each Monday, Wednesday and Friday until nine days ago. Baby Boy Daniels was born sixteen days ago.
Tom thought aloud, "Ms McAttee certainly could have cared for the baby, and known the situation." Rita agreed, and noting that Mary Jo had a lot of shifts in common with Jane, asked her, "Mary Jo, can you remember specific things about Jane? Did she take care of the baby at all, or meet the mother?"
Mary Jo nodded, "The baby was in NICU for about two days, then was a boarder in our nursery."
"Boarder?" Tom queried.
"A baby whose mother has been discharged or not presently a patient on our unit. You know, like a boarding house. It's an old term we've never really abandoned." Pam explained.
Mary Jo was troubled, "Jane took care of the baby a lot. Oh, she didn't do assessments or things like that, but she fed him bottles and changed diapers. She also…she was pissed at the baby's mother because Sarah initially didn't want to see him."
Rita and Tom exchanged a startled glance. "So she knew the situation?" Rita asked.
"Well, yes, she did," Mary Jo replied sheepishly. "But we all sort of had that attitude. We couldn't understand why Sarah didn't want to see her baby, even after her condition stabilized."
Tom said quietly, "So Jane had motive."
"But she wasn't here," Mary Jo insisted. "She went to her sister's wedding in Nebraska a week ago, then she called Wednesday or Thursday and said she and Randy were going to Canada. She told me that they had planned to vacation there, but they had a call for a potential adoption. She seemed really excited."
"Did she make any mention of how long she would be gone?" Rita asked, scribbling furiously in her notepad.
"Um, no," Mary Jo was becoming upset. "I didn't think anything of it."
Rita sighed and said, "Well, it probably is nothing, but we have to ask."
Tom shot his partner a questioning look, but kept quiet.
Tom and Rita stopped in ICU to check on Sarah's progress, but found her to still be unconscious and on a respirator. There was a uniformed police officer plus hospital security guarding the patient round the clock.
Once they were in the car, Tom blew up, "What the hell was that all about? You know this McAttee woman sounds good for this."
Rita snapped back, annoyed, "You know that Pam and Mary Jo seemed to like this Jane person. I didn't want them to tip her off in any way!"
Tom relaxed a little, "Oh."
"Look, this is hard, getting used to a new partner. I know you miss working with Cassy as much as I miss being partnered with Chris," Rita sighed.
"It is," Tom admitted. "Sorry."
"Me, too," Rita answered. Changing the subject she asked, "So, do you suppose we should go check out the McAttee home?"
Tom shook his head, "Probably a waste of time. Let's go see if Randy's old man has something to say."
"Okay," Rita smiled in agreement.
Meanwhile, Chris and Holly had just received a computer printout from hospital security. It was a record of all the employees who had entered and exited the staff parking lots on the day in question. The books were spread out on a table in a conference room, which had been converted to a task force room. The FBI agents were out at the moment, interviewing hospital staff and witnesses. "So they leave the scut work to us," Chris muttered.
Holly laughed and agreed, but stated, "Well, look at it this way, maybe we'll solve it for them before they get back."
"Sure," Chris said dourly, taking a drink of coffee.
Meanwhile, fate was working against Tom and Rita. They drove out to John McAttee's splendid mansion, after his secretary informed them her boss was working at home that day.
In the circular drive, there was an ambulance, paramedics, and two black-and-whites.
"What the hell?" Tom muttered, yanking the steering wheel and screeching to a stop.
A gurney emerged from the house, with two medics performing CPR. Rita and Tom sprinted towards the door, just in time to see John McAttee loaded into the waiting ambulance.
The sounds of sirens faded rapidly as the ambulance and one cop car sped off.
"What's the story?" Rita asked one of the uniforms, Kevin Thompson.
"Maid called it in, probably a heart attack, " the young officer replied.
Tom and Rita were dismayed. "Great," she muttered.
"You know this guy?" Jeff, the other officer, asked.
"Looks like he's fresh out of answers," Kevin smirked.
Everyone's mood was black as they gathered in the conference room after six o'clock. The FBI agents were back, with no new leads. Pizzas were delivered, and the group continued to work. They all shared the information they had gathered that day. John McAttee was in critical condition in Cardiac Intensive Care, and Sarah Daniels was in critical but stable condition. She was expected to be off the respirator by morning. No leads whatsoever on the baby. The media had been ever present, posting the one picture that existed of Paul Daniels, jr. The hospital-taken snapshot was posted to every news outlet in the Southeast US.
Tom, Harry, Cassy, Chris and Rita adjourned the meeting to Harry's office later in the evening. The printout from the hospital was spread out on Harry's desk. So far, every name on the pages had an alibi. They all felt defeated, knowing that the first twenty fours passed since the crime, with virtually no progress in solving it. Everyone batted about theories as the clock hands crawled towards eleven.
"I think this Jane McAttee is as good for this as anyone," Rita stated.
"Why?" Cassy asked.
"Look, she fits the profile of the infant abductor. She's thirty-one, with a history of infertility. She had access to the victims, and her whereabouts are unknown at the moment," Rita answered.
Rita was exhausted and longed for Chris to take her home and give her one of his famous massages. She sat next to Chris on the couch in Cap's office.
Chris swung his wife's feet into his lap, and slipped off her shoes, as if reading her mind. She smiled at him and blew him a kiss.
"Oh, please," Tom rolled his eyes.
"Really, get a room," Cassy joined in.
"That's enough, kids," Harry was weary. "Rita, you have a great theory there, but no proof. In the morning, we'll check out her story further."
Tom was back to reading the printout, and held up a hand. "Hold on, we may have the wrong suspect! Look at this," he pointed to an entry in the book.
The detectives gathered around.
Cassy read aloud, "Theresa Martinez, RN. In at 1500, out at 1606. Sunday, May third."
"Jackpot!" Chris exclaimed. "She was supposedly in San Antonio."
Hehehe! And that's Part two! Now, how do you suppose poor Theresa ended up a suspect? The answers to these and other questions will be answered in Part 3. The usual disclaimers apply. This is a work of fiction, based on the USA Network series Silk Stalkings. I don't own the characters or show, just borrowed them for this work of fiction. Thanks to the "L" girls for their support and inspiration. All feedback is appreciated to CSFan95@aol.com.