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and are attempting to interview as many people as we can rouse. We'll walk the entire area in the morning. None of any of this will be released publicly until morning. However, you are free to use everything which you introduced to us. I will talk with you tomorrow.” He disconnected.
    This meant Hines, Rice, and the 2nd Street Clinic could all be part of my story. Euphoria may not be the best way to express how I felt, considering the gravity of the circumstances, but information only I, Laura Wolfe, had uncovered gave focus to this investigation. I wrote in the new information, scanned the article, made a few tweaks, and did a word count.
    I walked the copy to Lassiter, where I found my editor arguing with someone on the phone. I heard, “…and I'll take full responsibility. You forget how it works down here? That's—”
    Lassiter stopped as I entered and placed the copy on her desk.
    â€œHold on.” Lassiter punched the hold button on her phone. “Well?”
    â€œTishana Rice confirmed she took Janet to the 2nd Street Clinic. Captain Walsh gave me the go ahead on all my stuff, including the newest parts that he won't be releasing until morning. We've got a scoop.”
    â€œBe careful where you scrape.”
    â€œI'm not mentioning Tishana or Marsha by name.” They would be the ubiquitous, unnamed sources. Lassiter nodded. My signal to leave. As I went out, I heard her say.
    â€œWe have corroboration.”
    I looked back, but that comment wasn't for me. She had said it into the phone. She had gone to bat for me.
    As I cleaned up my cubicle, I saw by my desk clock there would still be some daylight left. This was to have been the beginning of my new and more laid-back lifestyle. Oh well. I'll tell Max about Marsha tomorrow. However, I won't tell Lassiter or Max about the baby, yet.
    I wanted time to prove that I could handle a heavy workload and my pregnancy at the same time.

I was so caught up in Janet Rausch that I could not stop talking about all the ramifications surrounding her life. Jerry put an ending on it by suggesting we leave things as they were. My motor didn't shut off that easily, so he made a firmer suggestion that we take a walk along the piers and show Marsha the great variety of boats in the marina. He and I never did that, and that's when it hit me, I needed to turn it down.
    Our walk calmed me down some, but back on Scalawag , I started in again. This time, Jerry stopped me with a harsh glare. I excused myself and went below. He soon followed, after getting Marsha oriented.
    â€œYou were wearing the girl thin,” he whispered. “And you need some sleep or you will be worthless tomorrow.”
    Jerry cuddled close and calmed me. I must have slept soundly, because it took him to wake me after the alarm had gone off.
    Jerry, Marsha, and I breakfasted on Scalawag. He'd walked up to the marina gate and brought back copies of the Star , the Post , and USA Today , in which we three became immersed. The Star had trounced the other two with my inside information. The Post had it in their Metro section, and USA Today had it buried. Jerry checked the Internet and found it was most often quoting my work.
    Lassiter had asked me to include in my article that this second murder had all the signs of a serial killing, but that MPD had neither confirmed this nor had they said the same person had killed both women. I did as asked, even though I wasn't one-hundred percent sold on the serial-killer theory.
    The other stories in the papers Jerry brought me either said or strongly inferred that it was serial. Unwittingly, I may have fanned that impression when I was the only one to report that both women had used the 2nd Street Clinic, the last place either was seen alive, except by the killer.
    The radio and TV morning news shows pirated my story. In reporting my details, they gave attribution to my article and me, which is a normal and long-standing practice.
    â€œWill I