Annie looked sick when she opened the door to her apartment. Against the cotton-candy pink of her pajamas, her face was white and drawn. Her eyes popped wide when she saw Phoebe. Stumbling back, she stuttered out Phoebe's name.

"Annie Utz? I'm Detective Alberta. Can we come in?"

"I-I-"

"Thanks." Liz pushed the door all the way open so Phoebe could walk in ahead of her. In the background a couple of soap opera actors argued bitterly over someone named Jasmine.

"Lieutenant MacNamara needs to sit down. She's hurt pretty bad."

" I… I have a head cold. I'm probably contagious."

"We'll risk it. You heard about what happened to Lieutenant MacNamara, didn't you?"

"Yes. I mean, I guess I did. I'm so sorry, Lieutenant. You should be home, resting."

"Annie… Mind if we turn this off?" Without waiting for permission, Liz picked up the remote and ended the threatening tirade of a shirtless blond hunk. "I'm looking into what happened to the lieutenant. You were the last one to speak to her before she was attacked."

" I… I don't know."

"You don't know that she stopped by your desk on her way out, on her way downstairs?"

"I mean, yes, sure. You said you were going downstairs for the training session." When she addressed Phoebe, Annie's gaze trained several inches over Phoebe's good shoulder.

"What time was that?"

"Just before ten. Just a few minutes before ten."

"You were aware the lieutenant intended to take the stairs down?"

"Everyone knows Lieutenant MacNamara uses the stairs." Annie tugged on a heart-shaped button on her pajamas. "I really don't feel well. I'm sorry."

"Lieutenant MacNamara doesn't feel very well either. Do you, Lieutenant?"

"No." Her sunglasses were back in her bag, where she'd tucked them on entering the building. Phoebe knew the bruised eyes, the scrapes, the bandages were a shocking and painful sight. Just as she knew how to wait, how to use the silence as a lever to pry Annie's eyes to hers. "He pushed me down, after he'd cuffed my hands behind me so I couldn't break my own fall."

Her gaze steady on Annie's tearful one, Phoebe lifted her hands to show her bandaged wrists. "After he'd taped my mouth, put a hood over my head." She brushed the hair back from her forehead so the livid bruises showed more clearly. "After he'd smashed my face into the wall." Tears spilled, plump drops on pale cheeks. "I… I heard it was really just a bad accident. I heard that you fell. That you fell down the stairs."

"Was it an accident his fist rammed into her face?" Liz demanded. "That the cuffs snapped over her wrists?" She pulled up Phoebe's arm, gestured to the wrists. "Did her clothes accidentally rip off her body so she had to crawl, half naked, for help?"

"Things get exaggerated. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't feel well. Can you go? Can you just go?"

"Did he tell you he just wanted to talk to me, Annie?" Phoebe kept her voice low, the tone even. "Just talk to me in private? Maybe scare me just a little, or push his point just a little, since I was being so unfair? I was being unfair to him, wasn't I? Did he tell you that when he asked you to signal him I was heading down?"

"I don't know what you mean. I didn't do anything. If you fell-"

"I didn't fall. Look at me, Annie!" Phoebe snapped the words out so that Annie jumped, then hunched her shoulders. "You know I didn't fall. That's why you're sitting here, sick, scared, trying to convince yourself it was an accident. He told you that. He told you it was an accident and I-what?-lied to save face? I made up the attack so I wouldn't be embarrassed about falling?"

"How long have you been sleeping with Officer Arnold Meeks, Annie?" Liz demanded.

"I didn't! We didn't. Not really. I didn't mean anything. I didn't do anything." As the dam broke, Annie snatched up tissues from a flow ered box of Kleenex and buried her face in them. "He said it was an accident, that you were going to make things up, maybe to try to get him in trouble. He told me how you came on to him, and then-"

"Officer Meeks told you Lieutenant MacNamara approached him sexually?"

"He turned her down, and she's been trying to ruin his reputation ever since." Lowering the tissues, Annie turned a pleading face toward Liz. "He'd file sexual harassment charges, but he's embarrassed to, and his wife's not giving him any support at home. Plus she's sleeping with Captain McVee, so what good would it do?"

"He told you all this, and you swallowed it?" Liz shook her head from side to side. "Maybe that's excusable, maybe not. Maybe you thought, really thought, you were just doing Arnie a favor. Maybe you didn't want to believe he was lying to you, again and again and again, leading you on. But you know he lied to you now, don't you, Annie? You can't look at Lieutenant MacNamara and believe what he told you."

"I don't know. I don't know."

"How about some pictures?" Liz pulled some out of her satchel.

"There's the lieutenant's blood in the stairwell. Oh, here, here's her clothes that accidentally tore off her body. How about the laundry bag he pulled over her head? Here's a good one, of her blood on the cuffs he snapped on her. That's some accident."

"Oh God." The tissue shield went up again. "Oh God."

"What kind of person does this, Annie? Maybe the kind of person who's thinking about doing it to you, or doing worse. Because you're the one who can tie him to it."

"I didn't know. I didn't know." Annie sobbed, yanked more tissues from the box. "I didn't do anything wrong. He just needed a few minutes to talk to her, to show he wasn't going to be intimidated. That's all. I only called his number, let the phone ring twice. That was the signal. It's all I did. I didn't know."

"But you know now. You're going to have to get dressed and come with me."

"Are you arresting me? Oh God, am I under arrest?"

"Not yet. If you get dressed and come in now, give a true statement tell the truth, Annie-I'll talk to the DA for you. He lied to you. I believe you when you said he lied."

"So do I." Phoebe kept her fury banked and spoke soothingly. "I believe you, Annie."

"I'm so sorry, Lieutenant. I'm really sorry."

"Yes, I'm sure you are."

Liz looked over at Phoebe. "I'll drop you back home and take it from here."

Chapter 10

"I want to be there. I need to be there."

Dave leaned back in his desk chair, continued to scan Phoebe's face. "First, it's not my call. Second, this is Liz Alberta's case. You're the victim. If you have trouble remembering that, I can have a mirror brought in."

She knew how she looked. A couple of days meant some of the bruising was turning from black to sickly yellow and storm-cloud purple. Her jaw and eye were angry watercolors. Still, the worst of it was decently hidden under her clothes.

"The victim needs it. I need to sit in that room, look Arnold Meeks in the eye so he knows I'm not afraid of him."

"Aren't you?"

"Enough that I need to show him, and myself, that I'm not going to be. You and I know how the pathology works. How it is for someone who's held against their will, threatened or injured in a situation beyond their control."

"This isn't identifying an attacker in a lineup, Phoebe. Or facing the attacker in court."

"It's just more proactive. My mother faced Reuben in court. She got up on the stand to testify while he was only feet away from her, and I know that was nearly as terrifying for her as being trapped in that house with him all those hours. But she did it, and still she's trapped." All the affection and understanding he felt was there to read on his face. "You're not your mother."

"No, b u't…" Phoebe fisted a hand on her heart. "I feel her fear, and I don't want it living inside me. How can I do what I need to do if it finds a place to live in me? So this victim needs it."