"Detective Dick," he said, with hand out stretched. One look told me few kids had dared make fun of his name. "Call me Carl. You know the victim?"

"Yes, and the assailant too," I shook his hand and tried to calm my voice so I didn't sound like stammering fool, "He's a serial killer. Half the FBI is chasing him. I think he may have my wife and the daughter of the woman they just brought in. He's been stalking us all the way from New Hampshire where he killed two friends of ours." I could feel tears streaming down my face though I had no recollection of generating them. "Here," I said, fumbling for my cell phone and keying the speed dial number for Detective Jackson back in Keene. "I'll get the New Hampshire detective. He can tell you what you the facts. I have to get back to the mall and find out about my wife!"

"Whoa! Wait a minute," he said just as Jackson answered my cell.

"Grasso is here in California!" I blurted to the Keene detective. "He attacked Howie's fiancée." "Here," I said, handing detective Dick my phone. I stepped away as he conversed with his eastern counterpart but I was too hyper to stand idly by, doing nothing. I turned to Pual, my driver.

"I'll take you to the mall," he said in his tight accent but as I started to move toward his old car, Detective Dick, my phone in his hand, yelled.

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"Halt!" I froze. "I'll take you. Murphy?" he called to a uniformed officer. "Bring my car around." He handed back my cell. "He's got news for you."

"We've got the motor home. It was in long term parking at Logan just as you guessed. No one's identified the baby, legitimately…just whackos looking for a free baby and publicity."

"Where is she? I'm sure she's baby Claire."

"She's in good hands. We're checking DNA against the LeBlancs and are to get word this afternoon." He added, "Sorry about your trouble."

Detective Dick took my phone back and grabbed my arm, leading me to the waiting car. I stopped briefly enough to thank Pual who looked disappointed to be out of the drama.

It was my first, and hopefully only, trip in the caged back of a siren-screaming squad car. Detective Carl Dick remained on the line with Jackson for most of the three mile trip. After he returned my phone, he wrote down all our names and pertinent information.

"You got yourself in a real pile of shit, didn't you? Now let's try and locate your wife and the little girl. My guys are down in security reviewing the video. Let's see if we can make any sense out of this."




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