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The envelop and paper lay discarded on Clegg's desk, ignored. As I concluded he swung himself around to face me."Fine, fine," he said."With respect, Freddie," I responded, "it isn't fine by my books. What are we going to do?" Do?" said Freddie. "Oh, I'm not sure we need to do anything. Well not about the dungeon anyway, not right now. I think I know what's going on. If that letter was meant to irritate me, it has certainly done so. The only problem is that it also confirms what I suspected. I think we may know where young Tricia is. Harry done some research haven't you?" Harry nodded with a grim smile. "And we have a little job set up." I thought you were leaving me to get on with this?" I said."Larry, you don't want to believe everything I say. I don't even always believe me, myself. Now I am assuming you want to join in with this?"Harry leant forward with a conspiratorial air. "You remember that first burglary you came out with Tricia and me on?" he said. I nodded. "Well, I think. Was ... was that woman really her? She barely recognized the woman as herself. Who had she become these last number of months? What had happened to her? She felt herself trembling as she looked at herself, thinking of all the things she’d done. It was too late for her and Rick, she knew that. But Mitch, what about Mitch? He had been obsessed with her, fallen in love with her, worshipped her-and once she had him, she’d taken advantage of that. All the things she’d done to the boy who only wanted to love her hit her like a ton of bricks, and she felt ashamed, ashamed of how she’d treated him. She dropped her makeup brush and wept, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she buried her face in hands, her body wracked by sobs of misery, hoping it wasn’t too late.“Mom, I’m home,” Mitch called out his usual greeting as he came through the door.“I’m in here, sweetie.” His mother’s voice came from the kitchen, making him pause. Usually when he got home from his summer job at the lumberyard,.
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