The casino had kept my street clothes in my locker, apparently refusing to give up hope that I might be rescued. Whatever the reason, I was quite happy to finally get out of the leotard and boots I'd been wearing for the last several days, and back into my comfortable jeans and tennis shoes. I hoped the casino didn't mind the damage to the outfit, but presumably they'd understand.
On my way out I walked through the casino looking to see if I could spot Heather or Lori, either of whom would probably want to know I was back. I didn't see them, though. Either they weren't working tonight, or they'd been moved to a different area. I suppose I could have asked Beth where they were, but I didn't want her grilling me about my experiences, so instead I just left.
More than anything I just wanted to go home and sleep in my own, normal-sized bed, eat normal-sized food, and take a shower in something other than a sink. However, there was one person I still needed to see, so I drove over to the Coruscant and went up to Mark's room. I knocked twice, then heard his voice respond quickly. "Who is it?" he asked hopefully.
"It's me, Mark," I replied. Strangely, I felt a little nervous, which seemed like an odd reaction to be having at that moment.
"Kate? Oh, thank God!" He quickly pulled the door open, looking at me with an immensely relieved look on his face. "Come in! I thought I'd never see you again!"
As soon as I walked in the door, he grabbed me and gave me a long, welcoming hug. I returned it tentatively, and he let go just as I was starting to feel a little bit uncomfortable in his grip. "What, didn't you have any faith in me?" I asked, somewhat sarcastically.
"No, it's not that," he replied, motioning for me to sit down, which I did. "When your implants went out, I thought he'd killed you! Until you called, I wasn't sure you were even alive."
"Well, I was," I replied. "I'm a lot harder to get rid of than that, you know."
"Well, still, I was really worried," he went on. "When you called me, I--well, let me just say I was pretty damn relieved."
"Not as relieved as I was to see you," I said. In fact, that reminded me. I'd been wondering just what Mark was doing in the SW Clubhouse in the first place. However, before I could ask, he went off on a different topic. "I've been spending the last three days trying to figure out who took you," he said. "There wasn't enough of an picture of his face to figure out who he was using computer imaging, so I've spent a lot of time looking at mug shots."
"That's all right," I put in. "He was in disguise, anyway."
"He was? Damn! How long had he been planning that little operation, anyway?"
"Months," I replied. "He was incredibly thorough. He let me roam around in his basement, but I still couldn't find a way out."
"Then how'd you get away?"
"I found a paper clip and picked a lock. I don't think he ever imagined I'd be able to do that. But please, Mark, let's not talk about that any more tonight. I'll let you debrief me later."
"All right," he agreed. "Want anything to drink? I'll bet you'd like a beer right about now."
"Sure," I said, and he handed me a cold one from the fridge. It tasted wonderful. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed these simple pleasures.
"It won't just be me debriefing you, though," Mark went on after popping open his own beer. "HQ is sending a team down to talk to you tomorrow. I just got the call."
"Oh, geez, please tell me there's no psychologist in there," I muttered, though I was pretty sure I already knew otherwise.
"You know there is," he answered sadly.
"Damn!" I swore. If there was one thing I hated, it was being analyzed by a Bureau hack. Even though I hadn't ever actually practiced psychotherapy, I knew enough about it from school to tell the FBI versions were virtually worthless. The only thing they ever accomplished was pissing me off.
"Just answer your questions this time," Mark told me. "Don't try to fight it. Every time you do, I'm the one who always gets the lecture."
"What? Why do they bug you about it?"
"I get instructions on how to 'handle' you," replied Mark, with barely concealed amusement.
I laughed. "I'll just bet you do! Ever follow through?"
"Nah," he answered. "You can take care of yourself. Besides which, I never had any problems with you, so it would've been a waste of time."
Never had? I wondered about the use of past tense there, but didn't pursue the question. "Well, anyway," I said, deftly changing the subject, "I mostly just came by tonight to thank you for your help. I appreciate it."
"No problem," he answered, raising his beer up in a mock toast. "I just want to know one thing, though. How'd you know it was me?"
"What do you mean?" I'd almost forgotten about how he'd met me in the SW Clubhouse. "Oh, that. Well, I had a lot to think about while I was cooped up that house. I just put two and two together, that's all."
"I knew I shouldn't have logged on that night," he went on. "I just didn't want to miss Lorekeep's next story. Then when I saw Heather there--" At that, he seemed to choke slightly, and looked down at the floor.
"Yeah, what about that?" I asked jokingly, enjoying the opportunity to rib him so much that I'd completely missed reading his mood. "You two went up to that room alone, didn't you?"
"Please, don't remind me," he replied solemnly. "You couldn't possibly know this, but Heather's disappeared."
That took me completely by surprise. "What?" I was stunned. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he answered. "It happened yesterday. She was excited about working poker for the first time, and that was the last thing I know about her before she left."
"How do you know that?" I wondered. "You weren't seeing her, were you? In real life, I mean, outside the 'net?"
"Um, no," he replied after a moment's pause. "I only saw her online that one time. I haven't been on much since you left, what with trying to find you and all. It wasn't until this morning that I found out she'd quit at the casino. I was suspicious immediately, and went over to check out her apartment."
"Yeah? And?"
"Most of her clothes were gone," he told me. "It looked like a hasty packing job, like she'd gone somewhere in hurry. Her tip account at the casino and bank account had also been cleaned out, and she'd missed her classes the night before, too."
"So, the usual pattern," I said, nodding. "Another mysterious disappearance. Did you find out anything else?"
"Well," he replied with a sigh, "I searched her apartment thoroughly, and found evidence someone else had been there before me. They didn't look under her couch cushions, though, where I found this." He reached over and picked up a small book from the end table next to him. "It's her diary."
"Great! What'd it say?"
"About what you'd expect from Heather," he replied. "How much she liked working at the casino, her troubles with school, and her discovery of the Clubhouse online. Also, how afraid she was for you, after you were abducted. And, of course, how excited she was to be working poker for the first time."
"That was the last entry, then?"
"Yes, it was."
"Well, you know she wouldn't have left town without her diary," I noted, "unless she expected to come back. Yet the missing money suggests she didn't. So someone's covering this up."
"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," Mark agreed. "I'd put good money on someone at the casino."
"Me too," I replied. "They've already proven they can cover things up, since there was nothing about my disappearance on the news. And they did a good job rescuing me without following normal police procedures."
"It could be that they just wanted to avoid a scandal that involved the miniaturizing machine," suggested Mark. "They could be doing the same thing in regards to the other women."
"That's why I have to stay on the case," I told him.
"Yeah, I know," he replied. "You're absolutely right about that, and HQ agrees, as long as they clear you tomorrow. I'm worried about you, though. I don't want to see you disappear forever."
He seemed rather intent about that, but I let it pass. "I won't. I think I need some better implants, though."
He chuckled. "The team that's coming tomorrow will take care of that, I think. Now, is there anything else you need tonight? You should probably go home and get some rest."
"Well, I'd like to see Heather's diary," I answered. "There might be some clues in there."
He looked down at the book somewhat dubiously. "I, um, well..." he began, somewhat nervously.
"What?" I asked. "Is there something in there you don't want me to see?"
"Well, sorta," he admitted sheepishly.
Oh, I get it. She must have given some kind of graphic description of her little online trysts, and Mark would be embarrassed if I read it. Well, too bad for him. I needed to read those pages, especially her last few entries. Anything that might suggest what was going on at the casino during her last couple of days there. "I won't hold it against you, Mark," I said directly. "I already know about it anyway, right? I can imagine what you must have done in the upstairs room."
"It's not that," he said weakly. "It's not that at all. It's--well, it's just something I'd--something I'm not really comfortable with right now."
"Whatever," I replied impatiently. "Just hand it over. You know I need to read it."
He stood up. "All right," he said resignedly. "I guess I knew you would. Just don't read it here. Read it at home, but whatever you do, wait until after the team comes tomorrow, all right?"
Whatever was he talking about? What the hell difference could that possibly make? Still, I decided to humor him. "All right, if you say so," I agreed, picking up the book. He almost reached out to stop me, but then let it go somewhat reluctantly.
We exchanged goodbyes after that, and once I'd downed the last of my beer, I headed out, more eager than ever to read that diary. If Mark hadn't been so eager to keep it secret, I probably wouldn't have been in such a rush to look at it.
Be that as it may, as soon as I was in my apartment, I switched on the light and sat down with the book. After flipping through it for a moment, I started reading at an entry a couple of days before my abduction.