"Do ya think this is connected to the kidnappings and murders in Minneapolis?" the officer asked.

"Until we have all the facts, there's no reason to even speculate," Anthony told him in the curt way he sometimes had when dealing with people he didn't know. He could certainly come across as a stereotypical FBI asshole, Mary thought.

"No," the officer said, all but squirming, "I guess not."

"We'd like to talk to the parents and anybody who was in the pizza shop last night," Mary said more kindly.

"Interviews are bein' conducted at the grade school." He pointed. "Go two blocks thatta way; then make a left."

"Thanks." Mary gave him a smile, trying to make up for Anthony's brusqueness. Apparently Anthony hadn't heard of "Minnesota nice."

The officer smiled back. "You betcha."

Before heading to the school, Mary wanted to check out the kidnapped victim's car. It was a small, green, rusty model she couldn't identify. Something cheap, something a high school student might drive if her parents weren't as affluent as April Ellison's.

Technicians in yellow ponchos were doing a ground sweep. She spotted a light-haired woman in BCA raingear: Gillian. With her was a young man of about twenty, jet-black hair plastered to his head. Introductions were made. The young man turned out to be a BCA intern named Ben.

Ben was thin and pretty, with remnants of eyeliner around his eyes. His fingernails were purple. He also seemed to be enjoying himself more than the situation warranted. Was he an ambulance chaser? Or one of Gillian's projects?

"Have they found anything of significance?" Mary asked.

Gillian shook her head. "The rain's completely compromised the scene."

Mary pulled out her camera and began taking pictures, just enough so she would have a record of the layout. Anthony wandered off to talk to one of the technicians.

"They've sealed the vehicle," Gillian reported as Mary tucked her camera away. "As soon as they're done combing the ground, they're bringing in a tow truck to take the car to the lab in St. Paul."

It was starting to rain again. Gillian and Ben pulled up their hoods, and Mary popped open her mother's umbrella. Yellow ducks. Not standard-issue FBI.

Gillian laughed. "I know where that came from."

Mary allowed herself a reluctant smile as Anthony appeared beside her, giving the umbrella an odd glance. "We may have a witness," he said. "A girl who was at the pizza shop last night. She's waiting at the grade school."

The umbrella was large enough for two. Mary held it high, offering cover to Anthony. They walked side by side toward the grade school under a canopy of yellow ducks while Gillian and Ben strolled behind them.

"How's your shoulder?"

Anthony's gaze was on her, and she knew better than to lie. "It still hurts off and on, but nothing like two days ago." A moment passed until she saw that he believed her.

He smiled. "Good."

Inside the grade school, Mary closed the umbrella and shook out the excess water. The four of them were led to a classroom where a young girl was waiting. Her name was Susan. She was thin with dark, straight hair and shabby clothes. She seemed to be enjoying the attention and related her story with relish.

"I go there all the time. It's kind of a hangout, you know. There's no other place for kids except for the DQ, and all the old people go there, you know. At Gibby's, you usually see the same kids, so I noticed when this guy came in and ordered a pizza." Susan gave Ben a shy glance, and Mary couldn't tell if the girl was afraid of him or attracted to him. Sometimes the two went together.

"Can you describe him?" Mary and Gillian each had pen and tablet in hand.

"He was kinda tall. Maybe six foot. About normal size, I'd say."

"How old?"

She thought a moment. "Maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven. But I'm not real good at ages."

"Was he white? Black?"

"White. Well, maybe a little something else too, you know. I'm not sure. Something about his eyes made me think that."

"Hair color?"

"Brown."

"Length?"

"Short."

"How short?"

"I don't know. Just not long."

"Anything unusual about his features?" Anthony asked.

"Only his eyes, but I already told you about that."

The girl shook her head. "What I don't get is why would a guy that cute have to kidnap somebody."

Anthony's eyebrows lifted. "People don't always do things that make sense."

"A sketch artist will be getting in touch with you," Gillian put in when they were done. "Hopefully today." She shot Mary a look that let her know she resented being cut out of the questioning. Mary merely shrugged. Too many interviewers could get confusing.

In the hallway, they searched for someone who could direct them to the room where the parents of the missing girl were waiting.

All schools had the same smell of floor wax and paper, books and sweaty bodies. And smells had a way of triggering dormant memories in a way nothing else could. Mary found her thoughts tumbling backward…

Was it deja vu, she wondered, if the scene that was being played out and the scene you seemed to recall weren't exactly the same?

Suddenly she was standing in the high school she and Gillian had attended-Lynwood High. Rather than Anthony next to her, it was Gavin. Gavin, who was about six feet tall, with brown hair and eyes that had a compelling tilt to them.

Fiona was laughing up at him, and he was laughing back. She handed him something. When Mary looked down, she saw a folded piece of paper in Gavin's hand. On the paper was his name written in bold black letters.

She felt dizzy and confused. Sweat rushed from every pore. She became aware of a feeling of suffocation that reminded her of when she was shot. There had been the white-hot pain of the bullet ripping through her flesh, followed by a rush of perspiration.

The ground had shifted. The next thing she knew, Anthony was bending over her, fear and anguish in his face.

Voices cut through the haze. Her mind sorted them out, pulling her back to the present, to Canary Falls High School, her sister, and Anthony.

"Are you okay?"

The voice was Gillian's, but when everything came back into focus, it was Anthony she saw regarding her with concern. She was standing frozen in the center of the hallway. But at least she was standing. In her mind's eye, she could still see the note. The handwriting on it had seemed familiar, yet she couldn't place it…

"Mary?" Anthony asked.

She pressed her fingers to her forehead. "Oh, wow," she said breathlessly, attempting a light laugh. "I just had the strongest sense of deja vu I've ever had."

"For a minute," Gillian said with a worried frown, "you looked like you'd stepped into another world."

"Did it have to do with the case?" Ben suddenly seemed to find her extremely interesting.

"You mean, like something psychic?" Mary asked suspiciously.

"Well… yeah." He shrugged.

"Why would you think that?"

"I've heard things. About some of the cases you've been on."

So… He was one of Gillian's projects. That knowledge added a sharper edge to her next words. "Are you trying to discredit my skills as a profiler?"

"Come on, Mary." Anthony was still watching her. "You're overreacting." His eyes seemed to be saying, He's just a kid.

"No." Ben held up both hands, palms out, and took a step back. "No way. I'm just really interested in psychic stuff, that's all. I know a guy who has a roommate that can bend spoons-"

"Whatever you've heard, I'm not psychic. What I do has nothing to do with anything psychic. Psychology, yes. But my little trip to another planet probably had more to do with an empty stomach than any kind of ESP." \ Gillian laughed, sounding relieved now that Mary appeared to be back to normal. "You've insulted her, Ben," she said lightly. "Mary doesn't believe in that kind of thing."