Old Grace, as she was known to the other tenants of the tall sky-scraping apartment building, wrung out her lacy pink handkerchief and sobbed wildly into it. The policeman helplessly ran his hands through his short dark hair and tried to console her.

"I'm sure your daughter is fine, Mrs. Cassidy, just calm down. There's a good-"

"My little Caity is NOT fine, or she'd be home by now!" Old Grace shouted stubbornly, waving her arms around and nearly knocking an expensive beige lamp from a nearby table. The curlers in her hair bounced with every angry motion. "She went out yesterday afternoon to open her bookstore in town for the day, and never came back!" Old Grace wailed the last words and was thrown into another volley of tears. The policeman, a pimpled deputy no older than twenty, was tempted to smack the old woman.

"If you'd just calm down and give us more details," he began again, but Old Grace sobbed even louder and screeched, "I've given you more details than I'd care to give my pastor, now find my daughter!" These last words were shouted with such wild female vehemence that the young policeman stumbled out the door and shut it hastily behind him. Breathing hard, he radioed up his fellow, waiting downstairs in the lobby.

"This is Reid, reporting," the young man said, pressing the glowing yellow elevator button.

"You're in clear," came Jeff's static-shrouded reply.

"Nothing new to report on the Caity Cassidy case, her mother won't tell us anything besides what she told us over the phone." There was a short pause.

"We'll get right on it," said the other policeman. Reid frowned at his radio and wondered if Jeff had heard correctly. His friend's voice came again. "Over and out." Reid shrugged and stepped onto the elevator. He squeezed in between a little girl holding a fluffy white kitten and a flustered business man. The little girl, who had two huge yellow braids and was tying a red ribbon around the kitten's neck, looked up at Reid and grinned. "Didya catch any robbers?" she lisped. Reid smiled down at her.

"No I didn't, little lady, but if there are any robbers around here, I'll get 'em." Reid tapped his chest with his thumb and winked. The business man shot out of the elevator as soon as it stopped in the lobby, and Reid stepped out after him, waving goodbye to the giggling girl. He looked around for his fellow officer, but he was nowhere to be seen. The murmuring of people coming in and going out fell upon his ears, the fountain in the center of the lobby bubbled merrily, and the smell of free popcorn floated in from the kitchen, but Reid didn't see a single blue police suit. Thinking perhaps Jeff had stepped out for some air or was dealing with a loiterer, Reid swallowed down his creeping fear and walked through the glass doors to stand under the red canopy and watch the slushy snow drip off the heavy fabric. Perhaps Jeff was getting a drink of water. But no, when Reid walked past the silver water fountain there was no tall skinny deputy bending over it. Reid ran into the bathroom and called out his name, but there was no answer. He checked at the counter, and the pretty blond said she'd seen a deputy walk out after a tall figure.

"Tall figure?" Reid repeated, surprised. Jeff shouldn't have left his post, he was going to get it with the commanding officer..."What kind of figure?"

The girl dimpled, excited to show off her bright red fingernails to someone other than the fat little apartment manager, and tapped the marble desk. "Well, it was this big tall guy with black hair, wearing some kind of dark coat. Looked pretty suspicious, but naturally I didn't butt in."

Reid nodded absently and wandered outside again. The snow was coming down thicker and he shivered under his navy blue coat. Standing awkwardly under the red awning, Reid tried to radio Jeff. When he put his little black radio to his ear, Reid nearly jumped with shock at the sudden rasping sound that sounded on the other end.

"Jeff?" he shouted into the radio, causing several passers-by to turn and stare. "Jeff, come in!"

The sound that came out was eerily like a harsh grating laugh. Reid almost dropped the radio, his hands had started shaking so badly, and his heart pounded within his chest. "Jeff?" he squeaked. There was silence on the other end. Reid felt panic rising like a tide inside him. He ran to his squad car, slammed the door and drove as fast as he could back to headquarters.

Caity blinked. She looked around the muddy brown room, trying to get a better idea of her surroundings, but the sickly sweet smell made it impossible to keep her head up. It was like some deceiving poison, a hypnotic fragrance that crept into her senses and dulled them. How long she had lain there, her breath coming in short choking gulps, her body restless and achy from staying in the one position, Caity knew not. Once she thought she heard voices at the other end of the shed but they quickly died away when she made an attempt to listen, as if they could feel her concentration. And always there, always present, was a rasping purring heaving, almost like someone were breathing and trying to hold in morbid laughter. She hated it. Caity hated it all. Where was she, why, and when would her capturer let her go? These questions danced before her wearied eyes until she could imagine cartoon stars leaping over her head. It had to stop. She could not go on much longer not knowing what was to be her decided fate, and tormented by the idea that she could escape if she wanted to.

Slowly, biting back a groan at the tingly sleepiness in her limbs, Caity forced her weary body to stand and covered her mouth and nose with her T-shirt. Stumbling over the dirt floor, reaching out with stiff arms to keep herself from bumping into a wall, the young woman walked in tight circles until the blood surged hot through her veins. Pausing for one moment to listen for the alien breathing noise or the sound of speaking and hearing nothing, Caity slowly put a cautious hand to the wall and slid it along the rough shed wood until she had probed the entire flat side of the southern wall. Carefully picking her way over sharp stones that littered the ground, once feeling something wet flood into her tennis shoe and bleed into her sock, she began searching another wall, hoping against hope to find some loose board, some door, a window perhaps, that could ensure her freedom. The sick sweet smell was gradually getting stronger and every now and then Caity paused to clear her mind. The stench had a strange effect on her, because her stomach did not churn but her eyes watered as though is was wood smoke, and though her lungs felt coated as though with cigarette tobacco her mouth and throat were clear. She disliked the uneasy feeling clenching her stomach like a cold fist and so moved on to the third wall.

Just before Caity decided to sit down and think her plight over a hundredth time, her fingers brushed against smooth wood and she jerked her hand away when she felt cold metal. With a small cry of relief, Caity put her hand to the metal and found a doorknob. A door! Now if it would only open...Caity sent up a small prayer, to whom she knew not, and turned the doorknob all the way round. It was unlocked, by some miracle. Caity was just about to throw herself out the door when a harsh voice from behind stopped her dead in her tracks, freezing her movements.

"I wouldn't do that, were I you," the voice said. Caity collapsed at a blast of the fruity rotting stench and ran a hand through her long dark hair. She had been found out; it was too late. With a desperate shriek she darted up and tried to hurl herself out the door, but a cold searing hand caught her arm and yanked her back inside. The strength of the grip was amazing and Caity felt the breath rip from her lungs as the hand shoved her to the ground. Coughing, Caity sat on her knees, dazed.

"Poor, ssssweet Caity," the voice said in a purring, patronizing tone. "It'ssss not time to open that particular door, love. You mussst remain in my power until I hear your ansssswers to ssssome very important quessstionsss. Then you may walk out that door, pretty assss you pleassse. But not before."

Caity sighed despairingly. "Then ask me your questions so I can leave!" She heard a wry chuckle and shrank into a brown shadow.

"Ah, but your anssswerssss would be biasssed, and we can't have that, now can we? No. I will assssk them after you have sssseen what I am planning to ssshow you thissss night." Caity hated the cold hissing sound of the voice was was relieved when the cat-like rasp slowly left it. "I will come for you tonight. Until then, be a good little girl."

The maddening sweet odor slowly seeped from the shed as Caity wrapped her arms around her knees and hid her face in them. She did not try again to open the door; the cold vicious grip had left bruises on her arm, as she realized when she tenderly touched at them. The odd terror that has grasped at her newfound joy over the door in the shed had engulfed her, reduced her to a shivering shadow in the brown darkness.