THE MAZE by Catherine Counlter

They watched in silence as the cops in the Boston PD stood in stiff and angry silence. The local FBI representative stood behind the small group, saying nothing.

Ned Bramlock, who wore Italian tasseled loafers and had a full head of beautiful chestnut hair, said as he managed to furrow his brow in concern, “We’ve tried to speak to Judge Sedgewick who issued the order to the police officers to release Marlin Jones, but he’s refusing comment at this time.” They switched to an ACLU lawyer, who claimed that what the judge did was exactly correct, since to have refused to allow the alleged killer privacy for the testing would have been a violation of his civil rights. They switched to another judge, this one retired, who said flatly that Judge Sedgewick was an idiot without a lick of judgment or sense.

Savich turned off the TV set. He stretched. “Let’s go work out.”

She rose. “Yes, let’s go. There’s a World Gym just two blocks from here, down on Union Street. It’s open at 6:00 A.M. It’s nearly seven-thirty now.”

By the time they’d finished, Lacey was so exhausted, even her rage was dampened somewhat, at least until she could breathe normally again. They walked home, holding hands.

“It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

“It usually is in San Francisco,” she said. “Even when the fog comes rolling through the Golden Gate, it’s breathtaking. The fog makes it more lovely.” She fell silent.

“They’ll catch him. He’s got no money, no transportation. Everyone is looking for him. His photo is all over the TV. Someone will see him and they’ll call the cops. Don’t worry, Sherlock.”

Lacey was thinking about Judge Sedgewick and what she’d like to do to the guy as they walked back to her parents’ home. As they turned onto Broadway, she spotted three local TV station vans and a good dozen people equipped with cameras and microphones parked in her parents’ front yard. They heard Isabelle yelling, “Get out of here, you vultures, go! Scat!”

“Come on, ma’am, tell Agent Sherlock that we’re here. We just need to talk to her for a little while.”

“Yeah, the public’s got a right to know.”

“Hey, did you know her sister, Belinda Madigan? Is it true that Lacey joined the FBI just to bring down Marlin Jones?”

“Is it true that she entrapped Jones?”

Isabelle looked ready to kill. She raised her hands, palms out. To Lacey’s surprise, the rowdy group quieted down instantly. She said in a voice that carried to the end of the block, “Go talk to that moronic judge who made the police remove Marlin Jones’s restraints. Maybe he can take that killer’s place until he’s caught again.”

“Good for her,” Savich said.

Lacey called her parents’ house from a public phone a block and a half away.

“Sherlock residence.”

“Isabelle? It’s Lacey. We saw them all in time. You did great, told the reporters the truth. Is Dad there”‘

“Yes, just a moment, Lacey. I’m glad you’re out of here. The reporters are planning to camp out here, I think. How did they know you were here?”

Hannah, Lacey thought with sudden insight. Hannah hated her guts. She’d do anything to hurt her. “We’ll find out, Isabelle. Get Dad for me.”

Twenty minutes later they were picked up by Danny El-bright, one of Judge Sherlock’s clerks. He had their luggage in the trunk. “Isabelle carried everything out the back and I swung around to pick up the luggage.

“Judge Sherlock called the airline and got you on a flight leaving at ten o’clock A.M. Is this all right?”

“That’s great,” Savich said. He stretched out, leaned back his head, and closed his eyes. “What a day and it’s only nine o’clock in the morning. I hope the media aren’t smart enough to call the airlines just yet.”

“Don’t worry about me, Lacey,” Danny Elbright said, looking at her in the rearview mirror. “I know that if I ever opened my mouth your daddy would send me up the big river.

I won’t say a word. I just want you to catch this creep. Wasn’t Isabelle a kick? I’ll bet she’ll be all over the news.”

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