The plan was simple. Annie and Lucy were going to go to the townhouse Lucy shared with the perp, and Lucy was going to get the intel from him, and then they were going to take him into custody. It was, in theory, so easy. Except Zhen Yang was not going into the townhouse.

Annie and Lucy cut around the back of the empty house and Lucy dug the spare key out of a hanging flowerpot. She looked good in Annie's shirtdress, tall and lean and model-thin. Annie was having clothes envy all over the place. She might let Lucy just keep it.

"Sorry it's a mess," Lucy whispered as she opened the door. "We never have anybody over."

"Gagging at the proverbial 'we,'" Auggie piped up from the other end of Annie's cell phone.

"Please don't," Annie hissed, hanging up.

The house wasn't a mess. It was impeccably clean. There were Asian tapestries on the living room wall, shelves full of leather-bound books, a large Persian rug and woven floor cushions positioned around a gorgeous round coffee table. The decor was nicer than anything Annie could dream of. This was not the kind of place a destitute student and T.A. inhabited.

"Lovely home," Annie commented.

"Thanks," Lucy said. "Charlie- I mean, um, Yang, collects antiques from around the world. He's very well-travelled."

Annie detected a hint of pride in Lucy's tone, and that scared her a little bit. This was a victim who, despite her best judgment, harbored some love and admiration for her abuser. Annie knew the feeling well, and it turned her stomach.

They took a seat on the soft leather sofa.

"So how does one hook up with their T.A., exactly?" Annie asked in her flirtiest girl-talk voice.

"He expressed an interest in me," Lucy said matter-of-factly. "He was learned and well-traveled and I guess I expressed an interest back. Eventually, he became a priority, before school. He was so absorbed in work that my education started to take a backseat... I don't know, a lot has changed since we first got together."

"What does your dad think of it?"

"Oh, he doesn't know," Lucy half-chuckled. "If there's one thing you need to know about my dad, it's that he's a worrier. Me, Auggie, my grandparents, everybody. He has this weird ability to never be present but always be obsessed with everyone's well-being anyway. It's pretty fucked up."

"What about Auggie?" Annie was so curious it hurt. "You guys seem pretty close."

"I stayed with my grandparents a lot as a kid, and he was around a lot, and I don't know, we just clicked. Favorite uncle, you know?" A lazy smile spread across Lucy's face. "He just... he always took care of me."

"Still does," Annie commented, forgetting for a minute that the whole place was bugged and Auggie could hear every word and then some.

"What's with you guys?" Lucy asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Oh we don't... I mean... Not..." Annie fumbled. Just as her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. And a key began to turn in the front lock. Oh no. "Act naturally, he can't suspect anything. Good luck."

Annie took off out the back door just as Zhen Yang entered through the front.

"Hey, baby," Annie heard Lucy say cheerfully. She stepped up on the retaining wall for a better look through the kitchen window.

Yang and Lucy entered the kitchen. He muttered something to himself, slamming his briefcase down on the counter and taking off his coat.

"Do you want something to drink?" Lucy placed a hand on his arm. He violently shrugged it off.

"Busy," he barked, frantically opening and shutting cupboards in search of something.

"Are you looking for something?" Lucy asked innocently.

"I SAID. I AM BUSY," Yang shouted. Annie could see him losing it, getting sweaty and panicked. Something was gone from the house. What was it?

Lucy went into the fridge for beverages, anyway. "What are you looking for?" she asked sweetly from the vicinity of the crisper.

Yang whirled around, moving to lay a hand on Lucy, but before Annie knew what was happening, Yang was on the floor, a bottle of wine broken over his head. Lucy stood, for a moment, like she couldn't believe what happened.

"You're looking for this, you bastard," she said to his unconscious form. She held something black and small in her hand- a credit card. "You left it in the crisper. And I swear you are not going to see a dime of it."