Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Numb3rs or any of the characters therein. Any character in this story is fictional and should not be associated with any other person- real or imagined.

Author's note: We're getting there- thanks for waiting. Sorry this chapter is so long- it just fits together, so I didn't think I could separate it into parts. Next chapter will take us back to chapter one.

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"What have we got?"

"Well, after looking over all the evidence we collected from the crime scene, and the statements we got from her neighbors, added to what we found at the original abduction sight, I think it's safe to say nothing, absolutely nothing."

It was nine days since Don had been found, and Megan, David, and Colby were going over the files that had been written up on his case. Merrick had so enjoyed subtly rubbing their success in the face of Director Donaldson that he had allowed Megan to stay in charge as a gift of gratitude, delegating their team leader to some political task force as a representative of the office; he'd be busy long after Dr. Thompson was brought to trial. If she is brought to trial, Megan thought.

The team was just as frustrated as they had been when Don first disappeared. David had overseen the collection of evidence at Dr. Thompson's property, the crime scene crew working diligently to take apart and search thoroughly every inch of her home, land, and car. They had been able to match her car's tires to the ones made in Don's apartment parking lot, but nothing else had been found except some fibers, hair follicles, and a few signs of animal life in her basement; overall, nothing for which they could make a solid case against their suspect.

Interviewing witnesses had not gone any better. Though Bob Anderson had offered to testify, what he had to tell them did not further their case against Thompson. The old man could not state that he had actually seen her harm Don; worse, he would be helping the defense when he testified, as he had seen Don running around free, playing baseball of all things. Nobody else could offer any testimony as none of the other neighbors had been in the position to view Thompson or her property. The team had also failed in finding Don's supposed confidant, the mysterious 'Buddy,' whose name Megan had read over the shoulder of Dr. Wang on the night that Don was admitted. The team was positive that he was a potential witness to the occurrences in Thompson's house, so Colby had spent the better part of a week trying to find him. But no one in Alta Sierra knew someone with either the proper or nick name Buddy, leaving the agents to wonder if Thompson had done something nefarious to him.

Their last avenue had been to identify a motive, but no clear one could be discerned. Thompson had to have some reason for kidnapping and subjugating Don specifically, but the team had not been able to find what it could be. They did not live near each other, know the same people or share the same interests, nor had they traveled to the same places during the past year. No link could be found between Don's prior cases and her, or to one of her relatives, of which she had none living. Bob had mentioned he thought she had been pregnant around the same year that Don had been born, but there were no hospital records indicating she had ever given birth, leaving them at a dead end. If there was a common thread between them, they had not found it.

As for Thompson herself, she had yet to say a word. When David had brought her in to be arraigned, a high-class attorney had magically appeared by her side, requesting bail and citing her lack of previous crimes; luckily, they had a sympathetic judge who had refused the bail, stating that crimes committed against officers of the law should always be severely regarded. In response to being taken to jail, David recalled that the woman had just smiled, his own ire rising in response. After a week of being locked up, Thompson's attorney had finally consented to her being interviewed, which was the reason the team was going over the evidence in the case once again. They wanted to be prepared when they talked to her.

Megan directed the conversation, "Let's start with the fiber and hair evidence. In the trunk of Thompson's car, we have silk fibers that are ostensibly from a man's suit or dress shirt as well as hair that has been identified as Don's. We suspect this was the method by which he was transported, any problems with that?"

With a marker in his hand, David stood at the white board upon which pictures of the evidence were taped, two lists running down the left hand side: one detailing what the team thought each piece of evidence indicated, and a second detailing what a defense team might say about it.

Colby spoke up, "There was also a laundry bag full of men's clothing and several baseball hats inside the trunk; the defense can claim all fibers and hair were from the clothing in the bag."

"Were there any suits or dress shirts inside the laundry bag?"

"A newly-bought dress shirt was found, and the fibers are the same type as the ones at the bottom of the trunk," David stated.

"Was there anything else in the trunk?"

"Nada," Colby threw out.

"Okay," Megan replied, swinging back and forth in her office chair, "How 'bout the house. We found fibers from the clothing Don had in 'his' dresser"- she made quote signs in the air with her fingers- "and follicles of his hair throughout the house. The different areas include the living room, his bedroom and bathroom, the kitchen, and dining room. We would expect to find this evidence in these rooms, as he supposedly roamed unfettered in the house and in the yard. The only area that raises a red flag is the third bedroom. Hair samples were taken from the plastic mattress of the hospital bed Thompson had there; any concerns?"

David thoughtfully said, "There are two things we have to be concerned about. The first one is, as you said, the third bedroom. What was the reason for Don sleeping in that bed? Was he sleeping in it at the time we found him, or when he was first abducted, or did he alternate his time between the two bedrooms? Our second concern is the spread of the hair and fiber samples, which does indicate that Don had freedom of movement. This is adverse to our contention that he was being kept under duress, as defense counsel can argue that this freedom allowed him to leave at any time he so desired, which he obviously did not want to do, because he stayed. This may tear our case to shreds."

"Mmmmm. I think you are correct, this evidence can topple our case. Okay, the last piece of real physical evidence we have is the few minute spots of rat feces found in the basement and Don's bedroom. Crime scene investigators state that they found no other evidence that Thompson had a rat problem, maybe some field mice, but not rats."

David and Colby looked at each other, then turned to Megan and shrugged.

Megan picked up a yellow envelope from the table in front of her, pulling a large stack of papers from within its interior. They had finally been able to get a court order allowing them to obtain copies of Don's physical and psychological evaluations at the institution. Originally, the judge had refused on the grounds that they had not presented a strong enough reason for violating his civil rights to privacy, as he was the victim, and not the perpetrator, in the prosecutor's case; if Don wanted them to have the evaluations, he could simply give them written permission to have them. This, of course, he had chosen not to do. The request was only granted after Alan's attorney had filed the petition for conservatorship; once the probate court had accessed the records, the judge saw no reason not to allow the criminal courts to have access, too.

Dr. Wang had seemed very cooperative when Megan had shown up early that morning with the order, giving her the envelope as if he had already anticipated her request. Upon returning to the office, she had called Alan Eppes and invited him to view the data, as he would not be privy to the evaluations until he had officially been assigned guardian. When he had arrived, she had taken him into a locked room so they could digest the files in privacy.

Alan had left shaken; he had thanked the agent for sharing the information, but neither one of them had felt better having read them.

Megan now sorted through the stack of these reports, laying them across the table. "I think this would be a good time for you to go over the evaluations Don has received since being admitted to the institution. I obtained these from Dr. Wang this morning."

She left David and Colby to read through the reports, walking to the staff lounge to pour yet another cup of coffee. Megan wanted to be prepared to meet the responses of her colleagues; she was sure they would be confused, disheartened, and extremely angry. These had been her own feelings when she had first read the reports.

The psychological evaluations included one that tested emotional stability and maturity, one that measured intelligence, and one that was a summary behavioral report based on Dr.Wang's and his staff's observations and interactions with Don. The results of each test were not good: his emotional scores all fell within the clinical range; his intelligent quotient, or his ability to learn, had fallen thirty points; and Dr. Wang's summary had stated that Don's role of an independent, adult male had been superceded by the role of a young, dependent male child. His final report included citations of the regressive behaviors of thumb-sucking; bottle-feeding; submissiveness to and dependence upon others, including the inability to make decisions; limited expressive and receptive language skills, which were his abilities to express his thoughts and to understand what was said to him; severe anxiety in reaction to change, which dictated a need for a structured environment; repressed social interaction skills, as he often withdrew from unpleasant and unfamiliar people and situations, his reactions tending to be uncontrolled shivering, crying, and attempts to physically hide; and clinginess to a stuffed toy, a relationship that veered on the edge of delusional, as he occasionally spoke to it as if it were real.

In addition, Don appeared to be suffering from severe memory loss, as he did not exhibit any response to the spoken names of places and people that should have been familiar to him. On the rare occasions he spoke, he would simply ask when 'Mommy' would be coming to get him, which indicated he was trapped within Dr. Thompson's delusion that she was his mother and he was her son. Last, he was exhibiting symptoms of post-traumatic stress syndrome, as he would wake up from nightmares screaming about "teeth" and kicking his legs out from his body. It was often necessary to sedate him in order to prevent further injury to his head.

The physical evaluation was not any better. Don was undernourished; his strong, athletic body could not be sustained on liquid supplements. As Megan had diagnosed, a cat scan had revealed liquid on the brain along with some minor scarring; the doctor had written that it was indicative of some sort of traumatic brain injury, but he had no evidence as to what the cause had been. He also explained why it might never be known; it was usual that the injured individual did not retain memories of the damaging event, so questioning the patient would be to no avail, and the damage was typical of so many different types of injury it would be difficult to narrow it down to one. The doctor stated that, based on observations, Don's coordination skills and ability to control certain muscles both appeared to be adversely affected by the injury. At the bottom of that report was the suggestion of further tests to determine if an operation to drain the skull and scrape the scarring would be necessary, and continued monitoring.

Two other things discovered in the physical were just as disturbing; the first was that there were signs of physical abuse. The doctor had noted bruising on Don's bottom and lower back, including old marks that indicated at some point welts had been raised and the skin broken and healed over; he suggested that his patient had been routinely hit with substantial force over an undetermined period of time. He could not, however, determine with what he had been hit. An MRI had also revealed that capillaries had burst and healed between his outer epidermous layer and his left cheek bone, the damage not unlike what occurred when someone was slapped open-handed across the face.

The second item was the one that Megan had wanted to discuss with her colleagues, as physical evidence had been found in Thompson's house that coincided with it. Walking back to their work space, she gingerly approached David and Colby.

Both men looked up at her with fire in their eyes.

"What the hell could she have done to cause..." Colby moved his hand across the evaluations, "cause all of this?"

Sitting in her seat, Megan shook her head. "I don't know. There are signs of physical abuse, but I don't think simply hitting Don could induce him to behave so... submissively to that woman. It's just not in his personality, because when someone pushes him, he tends to push back, not cave in."

David ran his hand down his face, asking, "What are the chances, I mean realistically, can they help him? On top of whatever psychological mumbo-jumbo she performed on him, there's also this report of brain damage."

"Believe it or not, it is not as severe as it sounds. According to the report, the brain itself is not actually damaged; it is just suffering from the pressure from the liquid surrounding it. There's a good chance that it will either drain on its own or they can operate and drain it that way. In both cases, that release can help Don gain back his memory and, hopefully, the core remains of his personality, which would help him fight the psychological restraints with which Thompson has burdened him. But don't expect all of this to happen overnight. "

Both David and Colby sagged a little in relief; at least their friend's situation was not completely hopeless.

Picking up the physical evaluation, Megan flipped the pages until she found the one she wanted. "Now, there is no way to determine how Don received his traumatic brain injury, so I don't think we can prove that Thompson caused it. Likewise, since we do not know what she used to hit him with, we can not present a weapon to the jury as evidence of the abuse we believed she inflicted. Only one item in this report has physical evidence at the crime scene, and that is the statement by the doctor that Don's legs were covered in recently-acquired scars, ones he thought might have been caused by the puncturing of the skin by tiny, needle-like objects- not dissimilar to the teeth of a rodent. This conjecture makes even more sense if you take into consideration Don's nightmares. "

She stood up and went to the white board. "Here we have a few spots of rat feces in Don's bedroom. How did it get there? We know she only had a few mice in her basement, so why would there be rats in his bedroom?"

David spoke up, "We know she was beating him. Is it possible she used the rats as another form of abuse? I mean, she could have tied him down and let them bite his legs."

All three agents hesitated a moment at the thought of Don helpless while covered in rats.

"It's possible. Only problem is, we have no evidence that he was tied down at any time; his wrists and ankles were free of bruising."

"Hell, we don't even know where the rats came from," Colby said, rubbing the inside corners of his eyes.

David's interest was peaked, "That's an idea. We need to see if she purchased them. If so, then that should be evidence of prior intent to harm."

Megan looked at her watch. "It's thin, but it's the best we have." She stood up, collecting Don's evaluations and placing them back in the envelope, then grabbing the file with Dr. Thompson's personal information. "Right now, we have that interview with Thompson. Let's hope she trips herself up, because otherwise, I doubt we'll be able to keep her much longer; the minuscule remains of rat droppings and a few scars from an undetermined source are not going to be enough to put this woman in jail."

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Melinda waited patiently in the interrogation room while her attorney told her the rules once again. Gordon Fairfield was an older, tiny white-haired man who dressed in off-the-rack suits and bent over an old-fashioned walking stick wherever he went. His scrawny physique and oversized glasses usually gave first time opponents the incorrect perception that he was court-appointed and past his prime. Opponents facing him a second time never made that mistake. Fairfield was slowly reminding Melinda what they had discussed in her cell. She was not to answer any question that he had not previously approved, and she should try not to answer with any more information than was necessary. She should conduct herself in a professional manner, not allowing the interrogator to bait her into responding in a disrespectful and uncontrolled way, which might lead to her revealing things that should remain hidden. If she stuck with the story that they had agreed upon, then it would not be long before the prosecution would have to drop their case and release her. None of these guidelines were new to Melinda, but she listened nevertheless, because the irritating drone of her attorney's voice kept her mind focused on the performance she was about to begin and not on her son.

She had been thinking about Donny the entire time she was in jail. It was difficult for her to sleep at night, wondering if he was still having nightmares and if someone was there to comfort him. During the day, she often cried knowing that she could not feed him or dress him or bathe him, and that strange hands would be performing her motherly duties, but not with the love and care only his Mommy could provide. When she had known they were coming for him, she had taken the time to write instructions on his care, praying that he would be placed in a good private institution instead of the state mental hospital. She had even offered to pay the expenses, giving a list of reputable psych wards in an attempt to prevent his being placed in a high-cost but low-quality one by mistake. Since they had stolen her son, her only comfort had come from her attorney's announcement that Donny had been placed with Dr. Wang. She knew her son was in good hands.

But his hands aren't as good as Mommy's.

The day they had taken him, she had also tried to prepare Donny for the changes he would be experiencing. Melinda had explained to him that they would both be leaving their home for a little while, but they could not go together. When he began to cry, she had taken him into her arms and comforted him the best she could, feeding him one last time and cuddling him in his bed. Before leaving Donny to wait in his room, she had placed her instructions for his care in his back jeans pocket, telling him to leave them there until he spoke with someone who said he was his doctor. Next, she had stuffed Buddy into a plastic bag, directing her son to keep his toy in his usual hiding place, so that no one would take it away. The last thing she had done was to warn him not to tell anybody Mommy's secrets, or to allow any of the people who took him away to go with him to see the doctor; during the whole time she was talking, she had tugged on the belt around his waist as a reminder of the consequences of doing either one. Kissing him good bye, she had promised that they would be together again soon, to just do whatever he was told like a good little boy, but always with a closed mouth. Though she could only hope her preparations had made things easier on her son, she was not worried in the least that he had followed her directions; after all, he was Mommy's good little boy.

Tired of waiting, Melinda waved Fairfield to silence. In response, he got up and went to the mirrored wall of the interrogation room, mouthing to the unseen observers on the other side that they were ready to begin.

Melinda noted the two people who entered were the ones who were responsible for stealing her baby. A slight spring of anger coiled inside her, but she clamped it down tight. Putting on her best smile, she shook in succession the hands they offered her, waiting compliantly as introductions were made.

"Dr. Thompson, I am Special Agent Reeves, and this is Special Agent Granger. We will be conducting this interview. You may remember us as your arresting officers."

"Yes, I do."

Agent Granger leaned against the far wall of the room while Reeves sat at the table as the main interrogator. She pulled out a file that contained information about Melinda's personal and professional backgrounds.

"Let's go over some basic facts that we have obtained about you during our investigation. Please feel free to correct me when I make a mistake. Your full name is Melinda Ursula Tammery Thompson and you were born on June 30, 1950. You received a bachelor's in 1973, then entered medical school, and finished your internship specializing in psychiatry in 1981 . You had articles printed in every major psychiatric magazine annually for almost twenty years, at various times have sat on the boards of three major universities as well as two hospitals, been given eight- no, nine research grants over the course of your career, and have received numerous professional awards, just too many to list".

"That all seems correct."

"In 1969, you met your future husband, Randal Thoreau Thompson, while attending college. Randal was the only son of Walden Thompson, founder and sole owner of Thompson Pharmaceuticals. In 1970, you were married and remained so until Randal's death in 2004. You were both active in the early seventies within the peace movement in southern California, catching the interest of the F.B.I. in 1970, when you and your husband spent a semester at a commune and he became one of its vocal leaders. Other than your short stint at the commune, between 1970 and 2004 you and your husband lived conservatively in the small house in Alta Sierra, where you remained after his death. You have no brothers or sisters, as you are also an only child. The aunts and uncles of you and your husband are all deceased, and none of them had children, so to all intents and purposes, you are the last in your genealogical line. Other than the house in Alta Sierra, you own no other real estate, but have an extensive portfolio that includes a major interest in Thompson Pharmaceuticals, even though you sold the company last year. There is only one car registered in your name in any of the fifty states, and that is a dark blue 2003 Lincoln Town car. Your current estimated personal worth is a little over forty million dollars."

"Well, that does seem accurate, except my stock broker has estimated my worth closer to the high forties, though I don't think that little mistake is worth worrying about."

"We'll make a note of that. Now that the basics have been covered, let us focus on the reason we are here. You have been charged with the kidnapping and forced detainment of Special Agent Donald Adam Eppes. Since he was found in your possession, I think we can conclude that you know the person of whom I speak, and that you should begin by telling us how he came to be living within your home."

Melinda had been smiling throughout Agent Reeve's litany of her professional and personal life. The petite psychiatrist now shifted her body language by sinking further into her seat and lowering her shoulders, the result an emphasis on her small size that made her seem meek. She also made her smile disappear and replaced it with a concerned, serious expression while she clasped her hands in apparent nervousness and worry in front of her.

"I came to Los Angeles Sunday evening, on"- she named the date- "to do a little shopping. I parked my car and saw a man staggering down the street. Of course, my first thought was that he was drunk, but something about the way he moved made me decide otherwise. When he approached me, I noticed he had a large bruise on the side of his head. He did not know his name when I asked him, and neither one of us could find any identification in his pockets, though we looked thoroughly. So, I took pity on him and decided to take him to the hospital, but he refused to go once I had gotten him into my car and told him where we were going." Melinda looked at her hands and sighed. "This may seem crazy to you, but I have worked with patients with mental illness for over twenty years. I truly believed he had been abandoned by his family to the streets like so many others I have known, and being lonely since my husband died… Well, somehow I found myself driving him home to take care of him."

"It never crossed your mind to call the police?"

"Yes, it did," she replied quickly, looking straight at her interrogator. "I planned to call them once he had taken a shower and gotten into some clean clothes, as I still had some of my deceased husband's clothing in my closet. However, when I helped him to get dressed and was able to see him clearly in the bright light of a lamp, I observed something that changed my mind. I noticed he had bruises on his back and posterior, as well as marks upon his face, which clearly indicated that he was being subjected to physical abuse on a regular basis. I began to wonder if the injury to his head had also been the result of abuse. My long experience has taught me that whoever had done either of those things to him was most likely a family member, and that it would be that abuser who would show up at the police station to claim him. I felt that not calling the police was for his own protection."

"So, your detainment of Agent Eppes was to protect him from what you surmised was physical abuse?"

"I did not detain Agent Eppes. As my neighbor can testify, he was free to leave or call his family at any time. He simply chose not to do so."

"Did you at any time discover his identity?"

"No, he only knew his name as Donny and that is what I called him."

"There was a missing person campaign that took place throughout Los Angeles County that advertised Agent Eppes' name and face. You never saw any of the ads that were placed on billboards, fliers, or television?"

"After bringing Donny to my home, I found that he required full-time care; as a result, I did not have the time to drive back to Los Angeles at any point in the last two months. I do not tend to watch much television nor do I recall seeing any fliers in Alta Sierra, where I was doing all of my shopping."

"Do you recall telling your neighbor, Bob Anderson, that Agent Eppes was your son?"

"Yes. It may not seem important to someone young like yourself, but I did not want my neighbors to think I had taken in a lover, so that explanation seemed the best way to keep rumors at bay."

"Your tire prints were found in the parking lot of the apartment in which Agent Eppes resided. Can you explain what you were doing there?"

"I do not know where Donny lives. However, I did get a flat tire a few months ago, and had to pull into a strange parking lot to change it. This may have, coincidentally, been the place that you are talking about."

"Dr. Thompson, Agent Eppes received a physical in which the examiner noted that his legs were covered in scars. He indicates that they might have been caused by having been repeatedly bitten by a rodent, such as a rat. Do you know how this may have occurred?"

"It was a mistake on my part. I had some lab rats in my basement, all in cages, that I had forgotten about once I started caring for Donny." She lowered her head and allowed tears to fall from her eyes, her attorney thoughtfully handing her a handkerchief to dab at her face. "I went to the grocery store and, as usual, left Donny free to roam the house. He decided to investigate the basement and inadvertently released them from their cages. Luckily, I heard his screams when I entered the front door. It was just horrible! All those rats were nipping at his legs while he was helpless to defend himself. I was just barely able to pull him away from them. I made him lie down on my dead husband's hospital bed so that I could tend to his wounds. Afterwards, I promise you that I personally saw to it that every last one of those creatures was laid to rest. I can not tell you how often I have berated myself for leaving Donny alone for so long."

"That might explain the physical scars on Agent Eppes' body. However, can you tell us how he came to take on the behaviors of an infant and young child while under your care, when as late as Friday"- she named the date- "he had been seen at work exhibiting the behaviors of a typical adult male?"

"I'm not sure I can give an explanation for all of his behaviors, as some of them he did exhibit when he first came to me. Friday was two days before I even found him. Now, I admit to the bottle-feeding, but it was my last resort after I discovered Donny could neither chew solid food nor could he hold a can of supplement in his hand. I was really desperate to get some kind of nourishment in him because he had apparently not eaten for days. For some reason, he enjoyed the bottles and I kept feeding them to him out of convenience."

"What about the thumb-sucking?"

"That was a behavior that came with him."

"Why do you think he suddenly lacks the ability to make decisions or express himself?"

"I would suppose that might have to do with his head injury."

"If you knew he had a head injury, why didn't you take him to a doctor?"

"I offered to take him time and again, but he did not want to go. If it was a severe injury, I was not aware of that."

"Why is he displaying the symptoms of fear and anxiety?"

"Again, it might be the result of the head injury, or being placed in an institution. He never seemed anxious or fearful when he was with me."

"Why was his bedroom decorated like a child's room?"

"That is how Donny wanted it to look. Many grown men like baseball and cartoons, so it never crossed my mind that his room looked like it belonged to a child."

"How about his attachment to his stuffed rabbit, did that come with him, too?"

"No, I bought Buddy for him as a present. He seemed to need something to hold in order to help with the nightmares I observed him having at night."

"Did you say 'Buddy'- the name of the stuffed rabbit is Buddy?"

"Well, yes, of course. Donny chose his name all by himself. I don't know what Agent Granger finds so funny about it."

Melinda shot him an angry look, but he did not seem to be able to regain his composure and quickly left the room. She looked back at Agent Reeves, who was shaking her head as if she had been defeated in some manner.

"So, you deny that you kidnapped and detained Agent Eppes against his will?"

"Yes."

"You also deny that you had anything to do with the physical injuries that have been observed on the person of Agent Eppes?"

"Yes."

"Lastly, you deny that, other than the necessity of bottle-feeding, that you had anything to do with the psychological problems that Agent Eppes is now experiencing?"

"Yes."

"This ends our interview. An officer will be in shortly to take you back to your cell."

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Colby sat quietly in the observation room so as not to interrupt Megan's chastisement of his unprofessional behavior, though he did not hesitate to speak up in his own defense when she finished.

"I'm sorry, Megan, but it's been a stressful two months, and an especially exasperating week. You don't know how many doors I knocked on, or how many people I stopped in the street in Alta Sierra, all the time asking them about this mysterious person named 'Buddy.' And the whole time he was right there in the institute with Don. It was just too much to take."

Megan understood that Colby's brief outburst of laughter had been a release of tension; she had had to bite her own tongue to prevent from doing the same. Still, they were professionals, and others who were not familiar with the stresses they experienced on a daily basis might mistake his response as an example of him not taking his job seriously. The opposite was actually true; it was because he was so resolute in performing his job that when an outlet for release presented itself, he was forced to take it. Especially if the outlet was the discovery that the witness you had spent a week looking for was unable to talk because he was a toy stuffed bunny.

"I understand more than you think, Colby. You need to practice some technique that can help you keep your emotions under control when something surprising occurs during an interrogation. Speaking of which, I do not think Nadine is going to be too thrilled with Thompson's answers. I think it likely her story will stand up before a jury."

"I don't like it," David responded, "but I have to agree. She had a good, solid answer for every question we asked. She was even able to explain away how he got those rat bites on his legs and the tire tracks we found at his apartment complex; I know we don't believe her, but it is more than enough for reasonable doubt."

Megan gathered up the notes she had written during the interrogation and stuck a copy of its recording into her purse, along with a summary report of the little evidence they had been able to collect. "I'm going to take what we have to Nadine. Let's hope we're wrong. Otherwise, they'll have to drop the charges against Thompson and she could be back on the street as early as tomorrow."