Thank you for the reviews! I noticed that the alerts didn't go out on the last chapter, so many of my regulars didn't get to read the last chapter. So if you are coming back to read, check out the last chapter if you haven't already.

Many of you who did review said you were a little upset that Frank figured everything out in one shot. But you have to kind of remember that it was a theory working out for him...he even admitted as such. And it was a heat of the moment thing, so he was going with what his mind was telling him. I like it that ya'll pointed it out to me. It shows that you are really paying attention and you're connected to these characters.

I would like to say a special thanks for my betas...you know who you are and how much I love what you do for me!

Sorry that this chapter is a little short, but I had to leave it off where I did in order for it to flow well.

Okay, enough talking from me!

Read and let me know what you think...it's the only compensation I get!

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Nancy struggled in vain against the cuffs that secured her to the chair for what seemed the millionth time and she was getting exhausted. She had been left in Miguel Sanchez's office for what she guessed was at least fifteen minutes now and she was getting antsy.

She finally sighed in frustration and leaned her head back against the chair as she realized she wasn't going to get free. The only thing she had been successful in so far was making her wrists chaffed. She hated being in this position because she wanted to know what was going on with Sanchez and Randy—especially since it concerned her. She wanted to know what they were planning on doing to her, and really, she just wanted to get it over with.

But what troubled her most were Frank and Joe. Was Randy right when he said they had both been killed in the fire? Or had they managed to get out in time? Nancy really hoped for the latter because she just couldn't let herself believe that Frank and Joe were gone. And if they did get out, did they have any idea how to find her or where to even look?

Nancy closed her eyes as all of her thoughts were starting to jumble into one as a headache began to form near her temples. All of a sudden a blinding pain assaulted her head and she felt as if she may throw up. She let out a groan as the pain seemed to cease almost instantly.

But the pain was quickly replaced with an image—an image that appeared foggy, but something that she recognized almost instantly.

Nancy opened the front door to see Agent Phelps standing outside her father's house, his frame surrounded by the porch light.

"Agent Phelps," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"I actually needed to speak with you," Agent Phelps said, glancing around the neighborhood.

Nancy's brows furrowed. "This can't wait until morning?" she asked.

"I'm afraid not," he answered. He looked behind her into the house. "Can we go to the diner up the road and talk?"

"Now's not really a good time," Nancy said. "I was about to go to the movies with my fiancée."

"I assure you that this won't take long at all," Agent Phelps said quickly. "I just need to make sure I have everything that you know about Randy Wolfe."

Nancy thought for a few seconds and then reluctantly nodded. "Let me grab my jacket."

Five minutes later Nancy was sitting in the passenger seat of Agent Phelps's car as he drove. They drove in silence and Nancy began to frown as he started to leave the city limits of River Heights.

"I thought you wanted to stop at the local diner and talk," Nancy said, trying to keep the worry from creeping into her voice.

Agent Phelps looked over at Nancy. "There's been a slight change of plans."

"What do you mean?" Nancy asked, worried.

Agent Phelps just smiled grimly at her and kept his eyes focused on the road ahead of him.

"Stop the car and let me out," she said, firmly.

"I'm afraid that I can't do that, Miss Drew," Agent Phelps said.

Nancy stared at the agent. "Can't let me out or you won't?" she asked. When the agent didn't answer her, Nancy's hand found the handle and she began to pull at it. But to her surprise, the door wouldn't open.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"Activated the child locks," he answered. He then pulled out his gun and aimed it at her with a steady hand. "I would advise you to stay still, Miss Drew, or you'll find yourself in the trunk."

Nancy glanced over at him and even in the moonlight she could see that his face was expressionless. "What's going on?" she asked, trying to keep her gaze away from the gun that was pointed at her.

Agent Phelps ignored her and kept driving. Soon the car pulled into a long dirt driveway and came to a stop in front of a small, dilapidated cottage. The bad feeling that had been with her for a while now, seemed to double as she glanced up at the illuminated cottage. A chill made its way down her spine when Agent Phelps got out and walked over to her side of the car.

Nancy's instincts had rarely steered her wrong and right now it was screaming at her to get away—and fast. When Agent Phelps opened her door she pushed it open as hard as she could and caught the agent off-guard as he fell to the ground. She flew out of the car, but barely had time to run as the agent caught up with her and held his gun to her head.

"Sorry, Nancy," he said panting. "It's only business."

Nancy struggled with him as he dragged her back to the cottage. Only this time the cottage looked different because there was someone waiting on the porch.

"You set me up," Nancy said, struggling against the agent.

"Like I said, it's just business," he said softly into her ear.

He then pushed her into the waiting arms of Randy Wolfe…

Nancy's eyes snapped open and she worked hard to catch her breath. She finally remembered something! Looks like Frank was right about Agent Phelps after all, she thought ruefully. Pair that up with the fact that the agent had now served her up to Randy again, and that pretty much confirmed that Frank was right.

Her breathing hitched as she heard the lock to the door behind her click softly. She glanced quickly behind her to see someone she didn't recognize. He walked towards her determinedly and then knelt behind her.

"What is it now?" Nancy asked, glaring at the man.

The man glanced at her quickly and then at her wrists. "You've really done a number on your wrists here," he said, touching her hands.

Nancy jerked away from him and instantly regretted it as pain shot up through her arms. "Who are you?" she demanded.

He ignored her question. "You want me to help you or not?" he asked, holding up a key.

Nancy stared at the man, confusion evident all over her face. She reluctantly let the man take her hands again and soon felt the cuffs being removed.

"Thank you," she said, rubbing her wrists.

"You're welcome," he said, helping her up from the chair.

"Now will you at least tell me who you are?" she asked.

He smiled. "My name is Paul Marrow. I'm an agent with the FBI."

"How did you get in here without being caught?" she asked.

"You won't get caught if you've been here for the last six months," he said, winking at her.

Realization hit Nancy full force. "You're the agent whose been working undercover," she said.

Paul nodded. "I can fill the blanks in for you later," he said. "But I've seen enough people killed in the past six months and I'm not going to let you be another. Let me get you out of here while I can."

Though Nancy was still trying to recover from her shock at the appearance of her savior, she nodded her head and let him the lead the way.

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"There is nothing we can do, Señor, if the woman doesn't know where the emeralds are," Miguel said as Randy paced angrily across the floor.

"I can make her talk," Randy muttered.

"I'm sure you could, but that still wouldn't change the fact that she doesn't know where the emeralds are," Miguel said calmly, enjoying Randy's torment.

Randy stopped pacing and looked at Miguel. "How can you be so damn calm?" he asked. "You've been obsessing over these emeralds for the last eight years."

"You're right," Miguel said. "I have."

"Then what is it?" Randy asked. "If she doesn't know where the emeralds are, then who the hell does?"

"Maybe I can help you with that."

Randy whirled around as Agent Phelps walked out onto the patio.

"What are you doing here now?" Randy asked. "I thought you said it would be a few hours."

"Taking care of a little business," Agent Phelps said.

Randy tensed as Agent Phelps reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a velvet bag. He tossed it over to Miguel who caught it effortlessly.

"What is that?" Randy asked.

Agent Phelps merely smiled as Miguel opened the bag and poured the emeralds, all of various sizes, onto a small side table.

Randy looked at both men, shock registering all over his face. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

Agent Phelps smiled and glanced over at Miguel, who in return nodded. The agent then produced a gun from his holster and then aimed it at Randy. "Mr. Sanchez is no longer in need of your services."

And with that Agent Phelps shot Randy in the chest.

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