I GOT HOME THAT NIGHT at eleven, exhausted and empty-handed. For a few moments I stood thinking at the bottom of the outside stairs. In the morning, Jill would be officially listed as "missing." I'd have to head up an investiga-tion into the disappearance of one of my closest friends.

"I thought you'd want to know" - I heard a voice above me, catching me by surprise - "I heard back from Port-land."

I looked up and saw Molinari; he was sitting on the top step.

"They found a secretary at Portland State who leaked Propp's whereabouts to a boyfriend. They traced the gun to him. Local radical. But I suspect that's not going to cheer you up much tonight."

"I thought you were supposed to be somebody important, Molinari," I said, too empty and tired to show how glad I was to see him. "How come you always end up babysitting me?"

He stood up. "I didn't want you to feel you have to be alone."

Suddenly I just couldn't hold back. The floodgates burst, and he came down and held me. Molinari drew me to him tightly as the tears carved their way down my cheeks. I felt ashamed to let him see me like this - I wanted so badly to appear strong - but I couldn't get the tears to stop.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to catch myself.

"No" - he stroked my hair - "you don't have to pretend with me. You can let it out. There's no shame."

Something's happened to Jill! I wanted to scream, but I was afraid to lift my face.

"I'm sorry, too." He held me close. Then ............