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Peter's thoughts turned to Becky O'Shay. He wondered if she was seeing anyone. Peter had gone out with Rhonda Kates again. She was okay, but O'Shay was really interesting.

"The D.A. sure was bent out of shape when the judge swallowed Steve's argument," Peter said.

"Rebecca doesn't like to lose."

"How long has she been a prosecutor?"

Geary stopped in mid-stride and looked at Peter.

Then, he shook his head in disgust.

"I know exactly what you're thinking. Forget it."

"Forget what?" Peter asked innocently. Wearily, Geary shook his head again.

"That cute little thing has every young buck in three counties panting after her, but I'm going to give you some advice, which I assume you won't take. Stay.away from Rebecca O'Shay."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Did you see that Tom Cruise movie where he plays a vampire?"

"Interview with the Vampire?"

"That's the one."

"Sure. Great flick."

"Remember the little girl vampire?"

"Yes'

"Rebecca O'Shay was the model."

Chapter SIX.

His mouth was dry and he could barely breathe. She was so beautiful. He knew if he touched her she would be soft like a rabbit. He wanted to close his eyes and stop his ears to make time move faster, to bring her to the moment where she would take off her clothes, but he was afraid he would miss that moment if he shut his eyes.

He heard a sound on the path that went past the girls' dormitory. Instantly he was down, hidden by the bushes. Two girls passed, chatting about a boy one of them was dating. They giggled. When they were gone he rose up slowly, until his eyes were level with the sill.

Where was she? He could not see her. She was gone.

Please don't let her be gone, he prayed. Then the bathroom door opened and his heart stopped. Her jeans were off. She was holding them in her hand. Tossing them on the bed. Her legs were bare. He licked his lips and'undid his zipper. Please, please, he prayed.

She walked to the chest of drawers and took out a shorty nightgown. Suddenly, she remembered the window. She turned and only his quick reaction saved him from discovery. He heard the blinds go down. No, he screamed silently. It wasn't fair. He had been here so long, waiting forever, worshiping her while she studied.

Praying so hard to see her naked. And now this.

Suddenly, he noticed a wedge of light and adjusted his body. Praise God. There was a slit. A gap between the edge of the venetian blinds and the window ledge. He peeked into the room and was rewarded by a vision of a goddess with long blond hair.

She began unbuttoning her blouse slowly, as if she knew he was watching. Maybe she did know. Maybe this was for him. She would strip slowly, tantalizing him, then she would walk to the window, raise the blinds and ask him in.

He was hard now, working himself with his fingers as her blouse came off. Breasts, he thought. He could feel his body tensing as his excitement grew with each quickening stroke of his hand. The moment was now. She reached behind to unhook her bra. Now! He felt his body tremble. Now! His eyes shut tight, his teeth clenched in ecstasy as his back began to arch.

Then, a deep voice said, "Well, well. What have we got here?" and fear and shame engulfed him.

Rhonda Kates was dying to see the romantic comedy playing at the Whitaker Cinema, so she and Peter caught the early show then ate dinner at an Italian restaurant on Elm. Rhonda lived just on the other side of the campus near the hospital. It was a beautiful June evening and they walked the mile or so to the theater and back.

Rhonda had to get up early, so Peter only stayed for a while. Before he left, Peter promised to call, but he was not certain he would keep his promise. He liked Rhonda, but there was something about Becky O'Shay that fascinated him. In fact, Peter had called O'Shay ear that day, but she was in court and he lost his nerve her and called Rhonda instead. hat there was about Peter was starting to examine w Becky that attracted him when he heard a commotion.

A small crowd was watching two men struggle in the bushes under a window at the side of the women's dormitory. Peter pushed his way to the front of the crowd a ey Loudhawk, the campus se and s'w Jeffr curity guard who had testified at the preliminary hearing, wrestling with a man who was thrashing around and wailing incoi -pitched, keening sound from herently. The high the captive was eerie and unsettling. Then Loudhawk jerked the man around and Peter recognized Gary Harmon.

"What's going on?" Peter asked just as Gary made it halfway to his knees. Loudhawk was a large, muscular man, but it took all his strength to bring Gary back down to the ground.

"Gary, don't fight. You'll only get hurt," Peter said.

Gary turned his head toward Peter's voice as soon as he heard his name.

t'i'm Steve Mancini's friend, Peter Hale," Peter told Gary.

Gary stared at Peter, wide-eyed. He looked terrified.

"You know this guy?" Loudhawk gasped, grate U that Gary had stopped struggling.

"He's Gary Harmon. I met him through a friend.

What did he do?"

"I caught him peeping in a girl's room."

"Don't tell Mama," Gary pleaded, his voice rising.

"You're Jeffrey Loudhawk, right?" Peter asked.

"How'd you know my name?"

"I work with Amos Geary. I heard you testify at that prelim the other day.

The drug bust."

"Riglic, "I don't suppose you could cut Gary any slack? He's retarded. I'm sure he didn't mean anything by what he did.C'It's not my call. I radioed for backup before I orrested him. You'll have to work it out with the Whitaker Police."

"Could you wait to write this up until I talk to them?

Gary is working at the college. If you report him, it will proably cost him his job."

"It should," Loudhawk answered indignantly.

"Well, yeah. Normally. But he seemed real slow when I was with him. Like a kid. I mean, listen to him now.All during their conversation, Gary had been weeping and moaning. Loudhawk took a hard look at his prisoner. Then, he said, "Okay. I'll wait to see what the police say."

"Thanks. Thanks a lot."

Peter rushed home then drove to the police station while the police transported Gary. Peter knew he had to tell someone what had happened, but the way Gary was carrying on he knew he couldn't tell Gary's parents or his sister. It was almost twelve, so he decided not to call Steve Mancini right away. Peter figured he would wait at the station until he knew what was going to happen to Gary. If the police let him out, Peter would drive Gary home, then tell Steve what happened in the morning.

When Peter arrived at police headquarters, Gary was being interrogated. Peter told the officer at the desk that he was Gary's lawyer. A few minutes later, an officer escorted Peter to the back of the building. The door to the interrogation room was opened by Sergeant Dennis Downes, a jovial, thirty-four-year-old, who wore his hair in a crew cut. Downes, an avid outdoorsman, had moved to Oregon four years before for the hunting and fishing. He was roly-poly, which made some people believe he was soft, and he always smiled, which led some people to think he was dumb. Downes did not try to dispel either impression. As a policeman, he found it was an advantage to have people underestimate him.

The interrogation room was covered with white acoustic tile and the only furniture in it was a long wooden table and a few straight-backed chairs. A large, two-way mirror covered a section of one wall. Gary Harmon was seated at the table across from a uniformed officer. He had a Coke and a half-eaten hamburger in front of him, but he did not look hungry. Peter could not remember ever seeing anyone who looked so ashamed.

Downes dismissed the other officer. When the door closed! Downes asked, "Just what is your interest in this, Mr. Hale?"