"He was always suspicious of me. He thought that I was a cop. I had to gain his trust. I had to convince him that I wasn't."

"That can be a tough role to play."

"I did what I thought that I had to, to prove that I was trustworthy. I got in too deep. I went too far."

"What happened, that night?" Vince questions.

Frost looks at him questioningly.

"The night of the hit, and run?" Jane inquires.

Vince nods.

"I thought that I had convinced him that I was just a doting girlfriend. I was wrong. I woke up, and I found him sitting next to me, on the edge of the bed. He had found my gun. He told me that he knew I was a cop."

December 31st, 2003

She swallows hard, as he points her loaded weapon at her.

"This is department issue."

"No it's not. It's just a gun, for my protection."

"Protection? I'm your protection. If you wanted me to believe you, then you needed to put your trust in me. It's obvious to me that you're not willing to do that, because you think I'm the enemy. If you can't trust me, how can I trust you."

She touches his hand, "Put the gun down, and we'll talk."

"You think that I am just going to let you go?"

"Go? Go where? Home? That's the only place I'm going," she responds trying to play it cool.

"You walk like a cop, you talk like a cop. You know how I know that you're a cop?"

She doesn't respond.

"If you weren't, you would be flipping out right now. You have a gun pressed to your temple, and you haven't even flinched. You haven't even tried to talk me out of it. You know that the gun is loaded, yet you aren't a bit scared. Have you ever met a civilian, who wasn't afraid, when they had a loaded gun pointed at their head?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"You're trying to put me in prison."

"You're being..."

"Stop trying to convince me that I'm crazy, ok? I know that you're a cop."

"If I were a cop, then why would you let me get so close to you?"

"I enjoy playing with you."

"Playing with me?"

"I let you see what's going on. I lure you in. You think that you've got me, and then I trap you."

Her next move comes without any thought. She doesn't blink. She doesn't flinch. She skillfully maneuvers the gun out of his hand. He lunges towards her, but she already anticipates this move. She falls against the bed. She pulls her knees to her chest. He reaches for the gun. She waits for the precise right time. She kicks him in the chest, with both feet. He flies back, landing with a thud, on the floor. She jumps off the bed, and begins pulling clothes on. She slips on her shoes. He catches his breath, and gets up off the floor. He moves towards her. She cocks the gun. She stops in the door way. She points it at his chest. He stops dead.

"You think that I'm afraid of you? Do you really think that I believe, even for a second, that you have the balls to shoot me. Not now. Give me the gun."

He tries to take the gun out of her hand. She holds tight. She pulls her hand back some. She shoots him in the foot. He screams. She leaves the room. She heads out the door, in a hurry.

She jumps into her car, and heads towards the precinct. Her gun sits on the passenger's seat, with the loaded magazine, still in it. She stops at the red light, on her way. She puts the car into park. At four o'clock in the morning, there was no one behind her. She unloads the gun, and clears the chamber.

The light turns green. She puts the car into drive. She accelerates through the intersection. She's too wrapped up in her own thoughts, and adrenaline to notice the car barreling towards her. It catches her on the rear driver's side of the car. It flings her across two lanes. Her car spins. Finally the car comes to a stop, against the side of a parking garage. She tries to get out of her seat belt. She sees lights coming towards her, from the parking garage.

The lights move towards her, too quickly. She tries to brace herself, but it's futile. The car hits her on the passenger's side. It doesn't stop. It pushes her back across the two lanes. The car winds up on it's side. It speeds away. She tries to free herself from the seat belt. It won't give. She tries to move, or get free, but she can't. She sees lights, again, and braces for another impact.

This car stops behind her. The driver gets out. She feels a sigh of relief, as the driver gets out. The driver pries open her trunk, and ransacks it. She hears a shot. She wonders if he's shooting at her. The smell of fumes tells her that he's shot her gas tank. She loses consciousness, certain that she won't wake up.

The following afternoon, she wakes up. She finds herself in a hospital bed. She looks around, and sees family, and co-workers sitting by her side. She looks at the door. She finds a uniformed police officer standing outside her door.

Vince looks at her. He shakes his head. He clears his throat.

"You were supposed to be off for a few weeks, and come back. What happened?"

"People would drive by my apartment all hours of the night, and flash their lights. Someone knocked on the door, and by the time I got there, they were gone. I kept getting hang-ups. Then one night, he called. He said that he wasn't done with me yet. I couldn't take it. I decided that I needed to leave, for a while. I moved, to Virginia."

"Why did you move back?" Frost wonders.

"Bentley was caught on an unrelated charge. He got caught with a prostitute. Unfortunately for him she was a minor. He also had an eight ball of cocaine in his pocket. The jury was not merciful," Vince responds.

"He got off easy," Jane disagrees.

"Does that bring us to the folder?"

"He started sending me letters."

"Threats?"

"Promises," Jane corrects.

"Why didn't you say anything? We would have thrown him back in jail," Vince wonders.

"You don't understand."

"Understand, what?" Barry inquires.

"It's not that simple. Now I'll give you my motive."

"Him attempting to kill you wasn't enough?" Vince raises an eyebrow.

"I can't kill everyone who attempts to kill me. I don't have that much time," she responds.

"Why is he different?" Barry wonders.

"Because of what he knows about me. He knows how to blackmail me. He knows which screws to turn, to set me off. I don't know how he found out, but he did."

"How he found what out?" Vince asks, on the edge of his seat.