"No. I don't want to be here anymore. I need to go home."

"Did she argue with you, or did she just laugh? Didn't take you seriously, and neither would Boyd until she was out of the picture.

He wouldn't see you until she was out of the way. You had to kill her so you could really live. Isn't that right, Maureen?"

"It wasn't like that." Fat, fast tears poured down her cheeks. She held out both hands, clasped together as if in prayer. "You have to believe me." "Tell me what it was like. Tell me what happened the night you went into Marsha's apartment."

"I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it." Sobbing now, she collapsed in the chair, laid her head on the table and covered it with her arms.

"It was an accident. I didn't mean it. I've done everything right since.

I've done everything to make it up to him. I love him. I've always loved him."

In observation, McNab grinned like a madman. "She did it! She broke her down. Closed a cold case. I gotta... jeez, I gotta go get her flowers or something." He started to dash out, turned. "Dallas, she did good."

"Yeah." Eve continued to look through the glass, look into the pity she saw stir in Peabody's eyes. "She did good."

By the time she sent Maureen Stibbs down to Booking, Peabody was drained. She felt as if her insides had been put through some huge mechanical wringer that squeezed all the juices out.

When she headed back toward the bullpen, her parents rose from a bench and walked to her.

"What are you guys doing here? We're not supposed to meet up until we have that fancy dinner we had to postpone last night." "We're so proud of you." Her mother cupped her face, laid a soft, warm kiss on her forehead. "Very proud of you."

"Okay... why?"

"Eve called us in." She bent down, brushed her cheek over Peabody's.

"She arranged for us to watch you work." "My interview?" Peabody's mouth fell open. "You saw?"

"It was very difficult, what you did." Phoebe drew her close. "It's the job."

"A very difficult job. And one you were meant to do." She eased her daughter back to study her face. "When we leave tomorrow, it'll be easier to say good-bye knowing that."

"Tomorrow, but-"

"It's time. We'll talk more tonight. You have work now."

Sam reached down, gave his daughter's hand a squeeze. "Officer Peabody." He grinned from ear to ear. "Go be a cop."

A little misty-eyed she watched them walk toward the down-glide.

Then the sentiment dried up in amused shock as McNab bounded off the up-glide carrying an armload of white and yellow daisies.

"Where'd you get those?"

"Don't ask." He handed them to her, then broke their mutual agreement by hauling her in for a hard kiss in a public area. "She- Body, you rocked." "I nearly blew it."

"Hey. You kicked ass, you did the job, you closed the case. End of story." He was so proud he could have burst the pink buttons on his purple shirt. "And you looked really sexy doing it. I was thinking we could play Interview later tonight." He winked at her.

"You were observing?"

"You think I'd miss it? It was a big fucking deal for you, so it was bfd for me, too."

She sighed, gave in, and buried her nose in flowers that were no doubt stolen. "Sometimes, McNab, you're really sweet." "So, I'll give you a good taste of me later. Got to roll. I'm behind."

Carrying the flowers, she walked into the bullpen, and was flustered, delighted, embarrassed when several detectives called out congratulations. Flushing, she went into Eve's office.

"Lieutenant?"

Eve held up a hand to hold her off and continued to study the results of the probability scan on spa centers. She and the computer agreed that Europe was the most likely destination given Julianna's profile, with Paris just nipping out the rest of the field.

"I don't know, I don't know. Major city, major media, major cops. Why not this place, what's it, Provence, or this other near the Swiss border in Italy?" SUBJECT PREFERS URBAN ATMOSPHERE WITH CONVENIENT ACCESS TO THEATER, RESTAURANTS, AND SHOPPING.

QUESTIONED OPTIONS ARE LOCATED IN THE COUNTRYSIDE, APPEALING TO THOSE WISHING A MORE BUCOLIC SETTING AND HAVING LITTLE OR NO DESIRE FOR OUTSIDE ACTIVITIES.

L'INDULGENCE IS THE TOP-RATED TREATMENT CENTER IN PARIS, WITH FULL SALON, SPA, BODY SCULPTING, AND EMOTIONAL WELL-BEING FACILITIES. THEIR PRODUCTS ARE FORMULATED OF ALL- NATURAL INGREDIENTS AND CAN BE PURCHASED ONLY THROUGH THIS CENTER. SKIN AND BODY TREATMENTS ARE-

"If I'd wanted a PR quote, I'd've asked for one. How do you book?"

RESERVATIONS FOR DAY PACKAGES AND/OR HOTEL SERVICES MUST BE MADE DIRECTLY WITH THE FACILITY BY GUEST, GUEST REPRESENTATIVE, OR AUTHORIZED TRAVEL AGENCY. IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT REQUESTS FOR RESERVATIONS BE MADE AT LEAST SIX WEEKS IN ADVANCE.

"Six weeks." Eve pondered, drummed her fingers. "Are you going to Paris to a spa, Lieutenant?"

"Sure, if someone knocks me unconscious, puts me in shackles, and drags my lifeless body in. But I'm thinking this might be right up Julianna's alley. A girl needs a break from killing to relax, be pampered, and make sure her skin retains that youthful, dewy look."

She glanced up, gestured at the flowers. "So. McNab came through.

Where'd he steal them?"

"I don't know." Peabody sniffed them sentimentally. "Anyway, it's the thought that counts. You let my parents come in and observe.

You don't like having civilians observe an interview."

"I made an exception."

"They said they were proud of me."

"You're a good cop. Why shouldn't they be proud of you?"

"It just means a lot to hear them say it. I want to thank you for sending that note in, snapping me back on track. I'd gone way off. I knew I was losing her and couldn't figure where I'd gone off."

"You picked it back up, and you got it done. How do you feel about it?"

"Good, I guess. I feel good about it." But she lowered her arms, drooping the flowers toward the floor. "Jesus, Dallas, I feel sorry for her. Her whole world's broken into little pieces. It was an accident.

She's being straight about that. She worked herself up to confront Marsha, told her how she felt about Boyd. They argued, it got physical, and Marsha went down hard, hit her head. Hit it wrong. Then Maureen panics and tries to cover up."

"And they'll plead it down to Manslaughter. Manslaughter when it should be Murder Two." "Lieutenant."

"Maybe she panicked, for a minute or two, she panicked and was sorry and shocked. But then what did she do? Does she call for help?

On the slim chance Marsha Stibbs could be revived or saved, does she call for help? No, she seized an opportunity. She not only covers up the crime, but she goes just a few steps further. She plants false evidence that paints a dead woman with adultery, leaves that dead woman's husband, a man she herself claims to love, with the pain and doubt and misery of wondering if his wife could have lied to him, cheated on him, betrayed him. She casts a cloud over the life she stole so that everyone who knew Marsha Stibbs would look through that cloud and see a woman who was a cheat, so she can bide her time, pave the road, and eventually step into her place."

Eve shook her head. "Don't waste your pity on her. If you've got pity, give it to Marsha Stibbs, who had her life taken for no reason other than she had what someone else wanted."

"Yes, sir, I know you're right. I guess it just has to settle in."

"Peabody. You stood for Marsha Stibbs in that interview. You did a good job for her." Peabody's face cleared, and so did her lingering doubts. "Thank you, Lieutenant." "Go home, snazz yourself up for this fancy deal you've got going tonight."

"It's not end of shift."

"I'm springing you an hour early and you want to argue about it?"

"No, sir!" Peabody pulled a yellow daisy out of her bunch, offered it.

"You passing on stolen property, Officer?" Amused, Eve twirled it, then turned to her beeping interoffice 'link. "Hold on. Dallas."

"Lieutenant." Whitney's face filled the screen. "I want you and your team in my office. Fifteen minutes."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, Peabody." Eve pushed to her feet. "Want your flower back?"

Fifteen minutes didn't give Eve enough time to finish compiling and analyzing all the data to support her hunch on Julianna's personal holiday.

Instead she worked out an oral pitch in her head to pursue that hunch on the way to Whitney's office.