When I crawled out of toilet a uniformed officer was waiting for me. He introduced himself simply as Frank and said he was at my disposal.

"Your friend Mr. Abbott went to the hospital and Lieutenant Dick is setting up a command center at headquarters. Some federal big wigs are driving up from LA. I'll drive you either place or back to your hotel."

"The command center," I said, possessing an over whelming need to do something tangible or at least be where positive attempts were undertaken. I can't describe how helpless I felt. Every thought of the bastard who had my wife in his sick clutches nearly blinded me with the rage of a mad man. I was frustrated beyond belief, completely helpless. All the while, I couldn't block the vision of the wife I so loved, being herded at knife point. And poor, sweet Molly, dropped to the ground, like so much garbage. I tried to force from my memory the mayhem and violence Grasso had wrought across the country. I closed my eyes and swallowed my sobs on the short trip to the police facility.

Frank led me down a long corridor to a large conference room filled with perhaps thirty intent individuals, standing and sitting, some taking notes, others with few buried faces in computer screens. I tried to remain inconspicuous as I leaned against a back wall, my mind still in turmoil.

"Here's what we have; a dark blue or black van without side or back windows, with out of state license plates," Detective Dick said. "I've passed out a list of the appropriate states. This guy may not realize we're after him. The outside camera is virtually undetectable under a roof overhang. He may think we don't know his vehicle.

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"It's blue," the woman whom I learned was called Nancy answered. "A gal in perfume sneaking her Marlboro remembered seeing it."

"Okay; a blue van. How do we find out what states we're talking about? Which ones only have one license plate."

"Ask Otto," a uniformed cop said without looking up from his screen.

A voice from the back responded. "All the states in the deep south and a few up north; Michigan, Pennsylvania and Indiana. The only ones west of the Mississippi are Kansas and Oklahoma, and Arizona and New Mexico in the west."

"How in hell does anyone know that shit?" Dick asked.

"Otto goes to every bar around that has trivia night and drinks for free. His middle name is Google."

A woman huddled over a screen spoke up. "I enlarged a still of the van from the video hoping there were some identifying marks. It looks like there's remnants of a torn off bumper sticker on the back fender and a dent on the rear right side."




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