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Chapter Ten

Wilson and Josephs had been observing them for a few hours.

"I don't like it," Wilson finally commented.

"I don't, either," Josephs agreed. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

He nodded. "A trap, but what now? We need those pictures."

"I know. Let me think." After a minute he said thoughtfully, "We can't go after her because she's seen us."

"Why can't we?" Wilson demanded. "We can use some kind of disguise."

"And maybe foreign accents to be on the safe side?" Josephs questioned critically.

"Yeah!"

"Then what?"

Wilson thought for a minute. "We go up to them, make up some story and then let them have it."

"Too risky. The police would spot us in a second. I have a better idea. We wait until she's alone, then we make our move."

"You know they're not going to leave her by herself," Wilson stated pointedly.

"We'll fix it. Don't worry. We'll get those pictures one way or the other." A plan was already forming in his mind.

* * * * *

Bosley and Sabrina returned to her apartment.

"Now what?" Sabrina said in discouragement.

"They're smart," Bosley remarked. "I have to say that for them."

They both sat down.

"Now," he continued, "we force them to make their move."

"By doing what, may I ask?"

"Let's see," he remarked, "we concoct some story about those pictures. We can leak it to the press. Something like, 'Wilson and Josephs are still in the city. Pictures to follow in the next issue'."

"Or go on TV and make a statement about turning the pictures over to the cops tomorrow," she added, following his line of thinking.

"Exactly!"

"I don't think I like that idea too much," she said thoughtfully.

"Why not?" He asked curiously.

"It makes me nervous. Too many things can go wrong."

"Then we'll catch them," he said confidently.

"We will?"

"Definitely," he asserted positively.

"I wish I felt as confident as you do," she admitted.

"It's all right to be apprehensive, Bri. As long as you don't let it paralyze you."

"I'm not paralyzed," she shot defensively.

He smiled. "Good. Then we can go ahead with the plan?"

"I guess so," she admitted reluctantly.

"Great! What do you want to go with - newspapers or television?"

"Newspapers. I'm not up to having reporters shouting questions at me."

"Okay. Try this for size. The papers say you've got the pictures and you're waiting to take them to the police. You can't do it any sooner because there's a problem trying to get them there," Bosley sketched.

"What kind of problem?" She queried.

"We don't specify. This'll give them some hope and make them hurry. The sooner they try something, the less time you'll have to solve the problem."

"Sounds good. Where'd you learn to invent stories so quickly?"

"Working for Charlie." He slipped an arm across her shoulders. "You want to come to my place tonight?"

"It's all right. This is my apartment. I'll be fine."

"Who's going to stay with you?" He asked casually.

"Nobody," she stated stubbornly.

"Someone is staying with you. Come on, at least it'll make me rest easier."

"Bosley - " she started to protest.

"I mean it," he interrupted firmly. "Me, Kris, or Kelly?"

She sighed, knowing he was right whether she liked it or not. "You, then."

"Good. You want to come with me while I pack my things?"

She shook her head.

"Come on. After that I'll take you out for a nice, quiet dinner," he promised.

"No, thanks. I'll just wait here," she refused.

"What's wrong?"

She sighed. "Nerves, I guess."

"You want to play a game of chess?" He figured it would steady her nerves, give her something else to concentrate on for a little while.

She shook her head.

"Scrabble?"

She looked over at him then. "For someone who loses a lot you sure like that game."

"I was just trying to cheer you up," he said innocently.

"Thanks but no thanks."

He hugged her.

"What's the matter?" She asked in confusion.

"Nothing," he answered simply. "I just thought you needed a hug. That's all."

She smiled, feeling warm inside. "You were right. I feel much better now. Thanks."

"No problem."

After a few minutes she fell fast asleep.

About two and a half hours later she awoke.

Bosley had carried her into bed and was sitting in the chair across from her, reading a book.

"Hi," she said, stretching.

He put the book down. "Well, hello! How are you feeling?"

She rubbed her eyes, yawning. "Pretty good. What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "Around 8:30."

Her eyes opened in surprise.

"Hungry?"

She nodded.

"Why don't you freshen up, then we'll go to my place and get a few things, then we'll go out to dinner? When we come back we can draft out our press release."

"I have a better idea," she countered. "You go to your place and get your things. I can order take-out while I unpack."

"No."

"Come on. You'll be gone for an hour, two at the most. I'll be fine for two hours. I'll keep the door locked until you come back."

"I don't know," Bosley said dubiously.

"I'm in my own home with all the doors and windows locked and bolted from the inside," Sabrina explained, refusing to be treated like some piece of delicate china. "What can happen?."

"Are you sure?" He asked dubiously, knowing that she had a point and sensing that this was important to her.

"I am. Go on. The sooner you get going the sooner we eat," she urged before he changed his mind.

"All right," he agreed against his better judgment, "but make sure you don't open the door for anyone else."

She made a face at him. "Go already."

He went to the front door, stopped and turned to face her again. "Just be careful. Okay?"

"I'll be fine," she smiled.

He left, still feeling like he was going to regret this.

* * * * *

Wilson and Josephs were watching the building from across the street and observed Bosley leaving.

"Now's our chance," Josephs said confidently.

"What if he comes back?"

"We know he's coming back sooner or later. The sooner we get going, the more time we'll have to get away before he returns."

They crossed the street together.

* * * * *

Sabrina's doorbell rang and she ran to answer it. "You forget something?" She started to open the door. When she saw who it was she tried to close it again.

Josephs propelled the door open. He and Wilson forced their way inside. "Where are they?" Wilson asked demandingly.

"Who are you? What do you want?" She feigned ignorance, backing away slowly.

"Don't play dumb with us," Josephs replied. "We want those pictures."

"I don't have them," she lied, trying to buy time.

Josephs came towards her, hand raised as if to slap her.

She grabbed his arm, forced it behind his back and pushed him into Wilson. When they both hit the floor she ran into the bedroom and locked the door. She grabbed the telephone and called 911. "I'd like to report two robbers," she said rapidly, watching the door splinter before her eyes. "They're in my apartment right now - "

The door suddenly crashed forward and they rushed inside.

Josephs grabbed the telephone from her and slammed down the receiver. He raised his arm again.

She grabbed him by the arm and used a judo throw to flip him to the ground.

Wilson slipped behind her and took a blackjack from his pocket. He hit her on the back of the head.

She fell to the floor like a ton of bricks.

"What'd you do that for?" Josephs protested, rising to his feet in fury. He wanted his revenge.

"We don't have time for this nonsense," Wilson said icily. "Besides, the least you could do is thank me for saving you from further abuse."

"Thanks, but I have a better way to pay her back for her actions," Josephs said, smiling in anticipation.

"We don't have time for that, either. At least not now. Look for those pictures."

After about a half hour they found nothing.

"Well, what now?" Josephs asked anxiously.

"We take her with us. When she revives we can find out where they are."

"What if that other guy has them?"

"Then we use her for bargaining power. Her for the pictures." Wilson picked up Sabrina in a fireman's hold. "Let's go."

"We can't let her go, at least not until I give her what she deserves," Josephs objected.

"Who said we're letting her go?" Wilson countered calmly. "She knows too much. After we get those pictures you can do whatever you want with her. I won't stand in your way."

They left her apartment, closing the door after them.

An elderly man was just coming out of his apartment and saw them. "What happened to Miss Duncan?" he asked.

"We don't know," Josephs answered quickly. "We came over to see her and found her on the floor."

"Do you want me to call an ambulance?" The neighbor asked, concerned.

"We've already done that, thanks," Josephs said. "They'll be here in a few minutes."

"I hope she'll be all right," the neighbor said.

"Let's go," Wilson interrupted. "They're probably outside now."

"Do you need any help?"

"No, thanks," Wilson said, trying to cover his abruptness. "We're fine."

They both got in the elevator.

The elderly man continued down the hall.

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