The flight back to Denver that afternoon was uneventful. The easy sense of familiarity they had fallen into on the way to Boston had eluded them on the way back, however; and they each had sat, lost in their own thoughts and memories on the return flight.

It was close to eight o'clock when they finally pulled into the driveway of the Langford mansion. Daniel had tried several times to broach the subject of Catherine's death on the long drive from the airport, but Sabrina wasn't willing to talk about it.

He pulled her bag from the back of the Jeep as she went to unlock the front door and disarm the security alarm. He was almost to the front door when he heard her yell out his name. Dropping the bags, he ran into the entrance hall and almost plowed right into Sabrina, who was rooted to a spot just inside the living room.

"What… Oh, my God!" Catherine's beautiful living room was in a shambles. The cushions on the sofa and chairs had been slit, their stuffing strewn everywhere. Drawers were pulled open, their contents rifled through. And Catherine's beautiful first editions had been pulled out of the bookcase. Pages had been torn, spines had been slashed. Whoever had done this hadn't known or cared that they were destroying valuables. Daniel was speechless. Sabrina was visibly shaken. They both were angry.

"Who could've done this?" Sabrina's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary when you unlocked the door?"

Daniel knew he shouldn't touch anything in what was obviously a crime scene, but he couldn't stop himself as he kneeled to pick up a first edition of Huckleberry Finn.

"I had a little bit of trouble punching in the security code, but I thought maybe I'd just forgotten it. What should I do?" Sabrina was looking around the room helplessly, as though looking for clues. Daniel stood up slowly and placed the damaged book on the coffee table. There would be time enough for anger later.

"First we need to call the police," he sighed, "then we really need to look through the rest of the house."

-------------------------------------------------------

By the time the police had arrived, Daniel and Sabrina had been through the rest of the downstairs and had just started on the second floor. So far, not a room had been left untouched.

"Doctor….Jackson?" Daniel nodded, his hands folded between his knees as he sat on the steps of the main staircase. "Do you have any idea what the thief or thieves might've been after?"

Detective Lewis was an earnest young man, somewhere in his late twenties, with red hair and freckles. He looked like he should still be in high school, not conducting a burglary investigation. Suddenly Daniel felt very old.

As it had turned out though, the detective had known Catherine. He explained that he had grown up in this neighborhood and had in fact been Catherine's paperboy at one time.

Daniel shook his head as he contemplated the boy detective. "Catherine's house was filled with valuables," he offered. "There's really no way of telling what, if anything, is missing."

Sabrina walked in from the study just in time to hear his last remark. "I was in the process of making an inventory for insurance purposes," she said. "Would that be helpful? Unfortunately I've only been through three rooms."

Detective Lewis was busily writing into a notebook. He paused momentarily, looked at Sabrina and then wrote some more. "Which three?" he asked.

"Uh, living room, study and Aunt Catherine's bedroom."

The detective wrote some more and then stopped, looked up at Daniel and Sabrina, and smiled. "Well, that will do for a start. Miss Gosling, is there anywhere else you can stay until we catch the people who did this?" he asked. "Do you have any friends or relatives here in town you could call?" She just shook her head slowly, while Daniel, on the other hand, was nodding in affirmation.

"She could come back to Colorado Springs with me. Would that be acceptable?" Sabrina looked at Daniel in surprise, an unspoken question on her face.

"Do I really have to leave?" She was addressing both men. "I mean it's not like there's been a murder…" Her voice dropped away as she exchanged glances with Daniel. Detective Lewis noticed their brief interaction, but didn't say anything. After all, he had been trained to observe.

"They'll be going over this place with a fine toothed comb. You'll just be in the way." Daniel looked pointedly at Sabrina. "And besides, I don't like the idea of your staying here by yourself."

Sabrina nodded her head in resignation. "Ok, I'll just go pack some clothes. Will that be alright, Detective?"

"Oh, sure," he said. "I'm going to send an officer upstairs to help you. We'll need to dust for fingerprints in your room, too, you know."

As Sabrina and the officer made their way upstairs, Daniel stood up and then motioned Detective Lewis to follow him into the entrance hall. "Who handles your homicide investigations?" he asked the detective.

"Well, we have a homicide division. The head guy's name is Mike Renegar." He looked more closely at Daniel. "Is there something you're not telling me, Doctor Jackson?"

"I'm starting to have some questions about Catherine Langford's death." Daniel stood with both hands in his pockets and regarded the younger man intently.

"Miss Langford died of a heart attack, what, two—three weeks ago? You can't be thinking this is related."

"Right now I don't know what I'm thinking," Daniel countered, "but I would like to talk to Renegar and also to the coroner."

"Look, Doctor Jackson, no disrespect here, but you're a doctor of what, archeology? If the coroner says she died of a heart attack, then she died of a heart attack."

"That may be," argued Daniel, "but you and I both know there can be extenuating circumstances in any death."

"Well, I'll give you Renegar's number," said the detective, "but you're on your own after this. And I warn you, he's going to be a hard sell." He gazed around the entrance hall and sighed before continuing. "Look, I took a personal interest in this case because I knew Miss Langford, and I promise you: the facts were pretty cut and dried. There wasn't any indication of foul play whatsoever." He tore a page out of his notebook, wrote down a number and handed it to Daniel.

"Believe me, Lieutenant; I want to believe that with all my heart."