The first thing Stephanie was aware of was the smell of laundry detergent. "What? Where?" she said.

"Easy now, you're going to have a headache."

The second thing Stephanie was aware of was a terrible headache. "Oh my God, my head hurts," she said.

"It's the ether. You'll probably feel a bit nauseas too."

Stephanie tried to sit up. "Ooof," she said as a wave of nausea hit her.

"Slow down. It will pass."

Stephanie squinted around at her surroundings. She was in the basement at Benson's house. With the man who claimed he was with the police.

"Hi," he said.

She pulled herself into a sitting position, letting the memory of what happened earlier come back. "Is the guy still up there?" she asked.

"If he is he's being pretty quiet," Jane said. "He's got the door locked and barricaded so we aren't going anywhere."

"Did he say what he wants?"

"I didn't get the chance to ask. He knocked me out, remember? I just came around before you did."

"Yeah," Stephanie said. "How's your head?"

Patrick turned his head so she could see the patch of blood.

"Ouch," Stephanie said. "He's going to kill us, isn't he?"

"If he wanted us dead he'd have killed us already. He wants us alive."

"For what?"

"He's not here to rob the place or he would have taken you up on your offer to open the safe. You didn't recognize each other and he wasn't expecting to find a girl here, but he was expecting to find a man. He must be after your boss, Bowman. I'm just a lucky bystander who got in the way." Patrick smiled. "So that brings us to the million dollar question: Who has a beef with your boss?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Pretty much anyone who's ever met him," she replied. She stood up, determined to find a way out. She walked to the nearest wall to check out the vent window.

"You'll never make it through there," Jane said.

"Thanks," Stephanie told him. He was right, but he didn't have to sound so sure of it. She tried to jam it open wider.

"Benson Bowman is a real piece of work," Jane said. "Star reporter for the Truthfinder. Best of the worst of the supermarket tabloids. That's as wide as it opens….

"I know," Stephanie said, still fiddling with the window. "We could break it…"

"You still wouldn't fit. And then we'd have to deal with the broken glass. Bowman tries to pull off this 'Danger Man' attitude, going where no reporter dares, but he's really all flash and no substance."

"I can break a window and manage to not cut myself," Stephanie said.

"But…"

"I know," she interrupted, annoyed. "I still wouldn't fit."

Jane continued, "He gets himself invited to parties then stabs everyone in the back with his exposés about who's doing what with who. He writes features about 'mysteries' like spontaneous combustion and astral projection…"

Stephanie gave up on the window and went to search for a weapon among the storage boxes. "Do you have a point?" she asked.

"Benson Bowman is hack. His articles are literary diarrhea."

"He's successful."

"That doesn't make him talented."

Stephanie reached into a box and pulled out one of a pair of heavy brass candle sticks. It would work as a weapon… at close range. "Benson writes what sells," she said frostily to Jane.

"I thought writers write what they know," Jane said innocently.

Stephanie glared at him. "The tabloid stuff just pays the bills." She put the candle stick away. "Benson is working on some serious pieces in his spare time. He'll prove his worth someday."

Jane became instantly apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said. "I forgot that he's your boyfriend. Forgive me for overstepping."

"He's not my boyfriend," Stephanie said. She would have continued but footsteps sounded upstairs. She stopped foraging among the boxes and froze. Jane stood up and she moved nearer to him, pausing momentarily to arm herself with the candlestick.

They heard the chair being pulled away from the door and then the door opened. The gunman peered down at them. This was the first time they had a good look at him and he was far from imposing – except for the gun. He was of average height and thinly built, in his mid to late twenties but with a countenance much younger. His clothing suggested someone more used to outdoors than in. He looked at them both and nodded. "Good. You're not dead," he said. "I was worried."

"What do you want with us?" Stephanie demanded.

The gunman looked pointedly at Jane. "Your boss knows," he told her. "Sorry I had to hit you," he said to Jane.

"That's alright," Jane shrugged it off and smiled. "You must have knocked your name out of my head… I don't remember it…"

The gunman smiled back. "Gary," he said. He lit up his flashlight and directed the beam at Jane's head. "You're going to have to clean that up before you go on TV," he told him.

"Maybe he should go to a hospital for that," said Stephanie.

"I don't think so," said Gary. "He looks okay to me. Just a little… messed up."

"You never know, he could drop dead from an aneurism any second…" Stephanie insisted. "You would be charged with murder, do you know that? Murder!"

Gary became agitated at that and pointed his gun at them. Stephanie ducked behind Jane. "No! No aneurism. Don't you drop dead, you hear me? I need you alive!" Gary leaned to one side to get a better look at Stephanie and aimed his gun at her. "You I don't need. You weren't even supposed to be here. I don't need you…"

"I need her, Gary," Jane said agreeably. "I can't fix myself up alone. She has to help me. How about some water and a first aid kit?"

Gary considered for a moment then lowered his gun. "Where do you keep that kind of thing?"

Stephanie answered from behind Jane, "Under the sink in the master bath."

"Okay," said Gary, affable again. "You want anything else?"

"How about something to eat?" suggested Jane. He stepped aside, trying to position himself next to rather than in front of Stephanie to look less defensive but she was having none of it.

Gary said, "I checked the fridge already. There's nothing good in it. You should have gone shopping."

"I know," said Jane. "I've been a little preoccupied. Could you go to the store?" He took a step toward Gary and took on a conspiratorial tone. Motioning with his eyes back to Stephanie he said, "She's hypoglycemic and I do NOT want to be locked in a room with her too long between meals if you know what I mean."

Stephanie took the hint and said, "I'm starting to get hungry," in a whiny tone.

Jane took another step toward Gary and said, "You gotta help me out here, man…"

Gary looked torn. "I dunno. If I'm gone when Steve gets here he's gonna be really mad. He's not gonna like that I've got two of you anyway.

"So why don't do us all a favor and let the lady go? It's me you want anyway, isn't it?" Jane suggested.

"She'll call the police," Gary said.

Jane smiled and said, "No she won't." He motioned for Stephanie to come and stand next to him.

Stephanie stepped forward. "I won't. I promise," she said.

Gary looked at her doubtfully. "You'd leave your boyfriend here with a guy with a gun and not call the police?"

Not sure how to reply to that, Stephanie just managed, "I… no."

"What kind of girlfriend would do something like that?" Gary demanded, raising his gun again.

Jane put a protective arm around her as Stephanie said, "I didn't mean it, I wouldn't…"

"So you would call the police?" Gary demanded. He took one step down. Stephanie tried to inch behind Jane but he held her in place as Gary continued, getting angrier. "You just lied to me when you said you wouldn't?"

Jane maintained a calm, conversational tone. "She wouldn't call the police if you told her not to, Gary. You're in charge, right honey?" He said to Stephanie with a smile.

"Yes," she said.

Jane smiled even brighter at Gary. "See? We'll both do what you tell us to do. You're the man in charge here."

Gary began to defuse. "You're damned right I am. I'm in charge. And I'm not stupid."

"Of course you aren't," Jane assured him.

Gary brightened. He put down the flashlight and pulled something out of his pocket. "I took your phone," he said. "Got it right here." Gary showed off his trophy.

"I see that," said Jane. "That's what a smart man would do. And you've turned the lights on upstairs to make the house look normal."

After a moment's hesitation, Gary said, "Yeah. I did that too."

Jane released his grip on Stephanie hoping she would take his cue to act relaxed. She did. He continued speaking reasonably to Gary. "Now you're going to hurry to the store to get us some food so you can be back before Steve."

"Hey," said Gary. He held up Jane's phone. "I could just have a pizza delivered. What's your phone number because they always call back to make sure you're a real person."

"Pizza delivery wouldn't be good," Jane told him. "You don't want someone else coming here, do you?"

"No. Of course I don't. I'm gonna go to the store. What do you want to eat?"

"Chinese," Stephanie blurted out. "From Shanghai Sue's."

"That's all the way across town," objected Gary. "Plus, I don't like all that MSG…"

"But it's my favorite," Stephanie said. "They'll leave out the MSG if you ask them to."

Gary said, "How do you really know if they do? No Chinese." He thought for a moment. "I could pick up a pizza," he said excitedly. "There's a place right around the corner."

Jane spoke up. "Pizza isn't good for me. I'm lactose intolerant."

"Yeah," said Stephanie. "I do not want to be locked down here with no bathroom with him if his stomach starts to act up."

"Do you like burgers?" Gary asked. "There's a burger place just up the…"

Jane snapped his fingers and said, "Chicken!"

Gary narrowed his eyes at him. "What did you call me?"

"Rotisserie chicken! From the gourmet grocer's on Pinehurst Road. It's not too far…"

"I know where that is," Gary said.

"And salad with vinaigrette dressing," Stephanie added.

Jane nodded at her. "With a side of broccoli… two. Two sides of broccoli." He turned to Gary. "Are you getting this all down?"

Gary concentrated. "I think so…"

Jane repeated the order. "Rotisserie chicken, broccoli, salad."

"Honey mustard dressing," Gary mumbled.

"Vinaigrette," corrected Stephanie.

Gary glared at her. "I like honey mustard," he said.

"Honey mustard is great," said Stephanie. "And iced tea. With lemon. No sugar."

Gary backed up the stairs repeating the order under his breath while counting on his fingers. He made it out the door and was beginning to swing it closed when Jane called out.

"And Gummi Bears."

Gary grinned. "I like Gummi Bears."

Jane smiled at him, "Me too," he said.

"Bye," said Gary.

"Bye," echoed Jane and Stephanie.

"I'm locking the door and shoving a chair against it so you can't get out," said Gary through the door.

"Okay," said Jane.

"If Steve gets here first, tell him I'll bring enough chicken for him too."

"Okay," said Jane.

* * * *