About 'indian nose jewelry'|Indian jewellery for dummies

About 'indian nose jewelry'|Indian jewellery for dummies

Ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｆｉｎａｌｌｙ               ｒｅｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｍｙ               ｆａｉｒ               ｆｏｏｄ               ｃｏｍａ,               Ｉ               ｂｅｔ               ｓｏｍｅｏｎｅ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｍｉｇｈｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｏ               ｒｅａｄ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｗｈａｔ               ｅｌｓｅ               ｔｈｅ               Ｒｏｃｈｅｓｔｅｒ               Ｆａｉｒ               ｏｆｆｅｒｓ. Ｗｅｌｌ,               ｍａｙｂｅ               ｎｏｔ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ'ｍ               ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｏｎ               ｍａｔｅｒｉａｌ               ｌａｔｅｌｙ. Ｗｅ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｔａｋｅ               ｔｗｏ               ｖｅｈｉｃｌｅｓ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｄｓ               ｗｈｉｎｉｎｇ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｆｉｎａｌｌｙ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｍｉｇｈｔ               ｇｅｔ               ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｉｔ. Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａ               Ｍｏｎｄａｙ               ａｆｔｅｒｎｏｏｎ,               ｓｏ               ｐａｒｋｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｉｒ               ｇｒｏｕｎｄｓ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｙｅｔ               ｆｕｌｌ. Ａｓ               Ｉ               ｐｕｌｌｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｏｏｔｈ,               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘ               ｂｅｇａｎ               ｈｏｌｌｅｒｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｒａｔｈｅｒ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｓｃａｒｙ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｌａｄｙ               ｉｎｓｉｄｅ.                Ｉ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｆｅｅｌ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｗａｓ               ａｎｙ               ｗａｙ               ｔｏ               ｓｔａｒｔ               ｏｕｒ               ｆａｉｒ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ. Ｈｅ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ               ｙｅｌｌｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ｈｅｒ,               ｃｏｍｐｌａｉｎｉｎｇ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｈｏｗ               ｓｌｏｗ               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ. Ｓｈｅ               ｓｐｏｔｔｅｄ               ｈｉｍ               ａｎｄ               ｉｍｍｅｄｉａｔｅｌｙ               ｓｑｕｅｅｚｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈａｔ               ｂｏｏｔｈ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｕｎｄｅｒｅｄ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｒ. Ｗｉｔｈ               ａｒｍｓ               ｆｌａｉｌｉｎｇ               ｓｈｅ               ｇｒａｂｂｅｄ               ｈｏｌｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘ,               ｈａｌｆ               ｈａｕｌｉｎｇ               ｈｉｍ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｉｎｄｏｗ,               ａｎｄ               ｐｌａｎｔｅｄ               ａ               ｂｉｇ               ｓｌｏｐｐｙ               ｋｉｓｓ               ｏｎ               ｈｉｍ. Ｓｈｅ               ｓｔｅｐｐｅｄ               ｂａｃｋ               ａｎｄ               ｓｍｉｌｉｎｇ               ｌｉｋｅ               ａ               Ｃｈｅｓｈｉｒｅ               ｃａｔ,               ｗａｖｅｄ               ｕｓ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ. Ｔｕｒｎｓ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｏｒｋｅｄ               ｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｈｉｐｙａｒｄ. Ｈｅ               ｋｎｏｗｓ               ｅｖｅｒｙｏｎｅ.                Ｗｅ               ｍｅｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｅｒｒｉｓ               ｗｈｅｅｌ. Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｄｉｓｃｕｓｓｉｏｎ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｓｔｒａｔｅｇｙ               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｄｓ               ｗｏｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｉｄｅｓ. Ｉ               ｄｏ               ｎｏｔ               ｄｏ               ｆａｉｒ               ｒｉｄｅｓ. Ｉ               ｄｏ               ｒｏｌｌｅｒ               ｃｏａｓｔｅｒｓ,               ａｎｙ               ｃｈａｎｃｅ               Ｉ               ｇｅｔ,               ｂｕｔ               ｄｏ               ｎｏｔ               ｄｏ               ｆａｉｒ               ｒｉｄｅｓ. Ｉ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｆａｉｒ               ｒｉｄｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｄｄｌｅ               ｃｈｉｌｄ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎ               ｌｉｎｅ.                Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｓａｍｅ               ｒｉｄｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｉｅｃｅ               ｏｎ               30               ｙｅａｒｓ               ａｇｏ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｄｅｍａｎｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｌｅｔ               ｏｆｆ,               ｂｌａｍｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｎｉｅｃｅ,               ｗｈｏ               ｗａｓ               ｔｅｎ. Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｔｕｃｋｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｃｋｅｔ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｂｕｒｌｙ               ｔｏｏｔｈｌｅｓｓ               ｏｐｅｒａｔｏｒ               ｗｈｏ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｍｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｋｎｏｗｉｎｇ               ｓｍｉｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｈａｎｇ               ｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｔｅｅｔｈ. Ｈｅ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｓｌａｍｍｅｄ               ａ               ｓｃｒｅｅｎ               ｄｏｏｒ               ｕｐ               ａｇａｉｎｓｔ               ｍｙ               ｎｏｓｅ               ａｎｄ               ｐｕｌｌｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｅｖｅｒ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｗｈｉｒｌ               ａｎｄ               ｃｏｎｓｅｑｕｅｎｔ               ａｂｒｕｐｔ               ｓｔｏｐ               ｓｅｎｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｒｔ               ｓｐｉｎｎｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｃｏｍｐｌｅｔｅ               ｒｏｌｌ               ｏｖｅｒｓ. Ｗｈｅｎ               ｍｙ               ｈｅａｄ               ｓｔｏｐｐｅｄ               ｓｎａｐｐｉｎｇ               ｂａｃｋ               ａｎｄ               ｆｏｒｔｈ,               Ｉ               ｎｏｔｉｃｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｄｄｌｅ               ｃｈｉｌｄ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎ               ｓｏｍｅｗｈａｔ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｃａｔａｔｏｎｉｃ               ｓｔａｔｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｅｍｉｔｔｉｎｇ               ａ               ｄｅａｆｅｎｉｎｇ               ｏｐｅｒａｔｉｃ               ｐｉｔｃｈ               ｈｉｇｈ               ｅｎｏｕｇｈ               ｔｏ               ｓｈａｔｔｅｒ               ｇｌａｓｓ. Ｉ               ｔｒｉｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｃａｔｃｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｐｅｒａｔｏｒ'ｓ               ａｔｔｅｎｔｉｏｎ               ｕｐｏｎ               ｅａｃｈ               ｄｅｓｃｅｎｔ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｐｉｎｎｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｚｉｐｐｉｎｇ               ｂｙ               ｓｏ               ｆａｓｔ,               Ｉ               ｅｎｄｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｓｃｒｅａｍｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ａ               ｓｅａｇｕｌｌ.                Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ａｓｓｉｓｔｅｄ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｗｅ               ｓｔｏｐｐｅｄ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｄｓ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｂｒａｖｅ. Ｉ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｌｉｋｅ               ａ               ｄｉｓｏｒｉｅｎｔｅｄ               ｃｒａｂ               ａｓ               ｗｅ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｘｔ               ｒｉｄｅ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗｅ               ｓｏｏｎ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｗａｓ               ｓｈｕｔ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｄｕｅ               ｔｏ               ｍｅｃｈａｎｉｃａｌ               ｄｉｆｆｉｃｕｌｔｉｅｓ. Ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｒｓ               ｆｌｅｗ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓ               ｎｉｇｈｔ.                Ｉ               ｐｅｒｋｅｄ               ｕｐ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｃｅｎｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｆｒｅｎｃｈ               ｆｒｙ               ｓｔａｎｄ. Ｓｔａｇｇｅｒｉｎｇ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｔａｂｌｅ               Ｉ               ｓｏｍｅｗｈａｔ               ｒｅｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｗｈｉｌｅ               ｓｔｕｆｆｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｆａｃｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｆａｉｒ               ｆｏｏｄ               ｄｅｌｉｃａｃｙ               ｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｍｅｎｕ. Ｔｈｅ               ｖｉｎｅｇａｒ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｓｐｒａｙ               ｂｏｔｔｌｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ａ               ｌｏｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               ａ               ｒｉｎｓｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               Ｍｒ. Ｃｌｅａｎ               ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｅｒ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｇｕｙ               ｇｏｔ               ｇｙｐｐｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               $5               ｏｎ               ａ               ｆｏｏｔｂａｌｌ               ｇａｍｅ. Ｔｈｅ               ｅｘ               ｈａｎｄｅｄ               ｈｉｍ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               $5               ａｎｄ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｇｅｔ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｈｉｍ               ａｎｄ               ｇｅｔ               ｈｉｍ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｅｘｔｒａ               ｔｈｒｏｗｓ. Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ               ｔｒａｉｎｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｄｉｃｋｅｒｉｎｇ,               ｌｉｖｉｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｔｉｇｈｔｗａｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｍａｎｙ               ｙｅａｒｓ,               ｓｏ               Ｉ               ｇｒａｂｂｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｇｕｙ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｌａｒ,               ｔｅｌｌｉｎｇ               ｈｉｍ               ｓｉｍｐｌｙ               ｔｏ               "ｗａｔｃｈ               ａｎｄ               ｌｅａｒｎ". Ｗｅ               ｗａｉｔｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｒｏｗｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｉｎ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｓａｉｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｕｙ,               "Ｈｏｗ               ｍｕｃｈ?"               Ｈｅ               ｐｕｓｈｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｈｉｓ               ｓｌｅｅｖｅｓ,               ｒｅｖｅａｌｉｎｇ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｓｅｒｐｅｎｔｉｎｅ               ｔａｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓａｉｄ               "               $5".                Ｉ               ｐｕｓｈｅｄ               ｕｏ               ｍｙ               ｌａｃｅ               Ｆｒｅｎｃｈ               ｃｕｆｆｓ,               ｌｅａｎｅｄ               ｏｖｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｓａｉｄ               "Ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｓｑｕｉｒｔ? Ｔｈｅ               ｂａｌｌ               ｉｓ               ｂｉｇｇｅｒ               ｔｈａｎ               ｈｅ               ｉｓ."               Ｔｈｉｓ               ｇｅｎｉｕｓ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｆｉｌｍｅｄ               ｂｙ               60               Ｍｉｎｕｔｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｌｉｄ               ｏｖｅｒ               ａｎ               ｅｘｔｒａ               ｂａｌｌ. Ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｄ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｕｐ               ａｔ               ｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｗｏｎｄｒｏｕｓ               ａｄｍｉｒａｔｉｏｎ,               ｔｈｒｅｗ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｏｏｔｂａｌｌｓ               ａｎｄ               ｍｉｓｓｅｄ. Ｔｈｅ               ｅｘ               ｓａｉｄ,               "Ｙｏｕ               ｈａｄ               ｈｉｍ. Ｓｈｏｕｌｄａ               ｇｏｔ               ｔｗｏ               ｆｒｅｅｂｉｅｓ"               Ｉ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｈｉｍ               ｔｏ               ｂｉｔｅ               ｍｅ.                Ｗｅ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｚｅ               ｏｆ               ｊｕｎｋ               ｊｅｗｅｌｒｙ,               Ｔ-ｓｈｉｒｔｓ,               ｔａｔｔｏｏ               ｓｔａｎｄｓ,               ａｎｄ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｏｏｄ               ｓｔａｎｄｓ               ｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｌｉｓｔ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｈｉｔｔｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｇ               ｔｏｐ. Ｔｈｅ               ｅｘ               ｌｉｋｅｓ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎｄ               ｃｒｅａｔｉｖｅ               ｎｅｗ               ｗａｙｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｒａｖｅｌ,               ａｎｄ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｉｔ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ａ               ｓｈｏｒｔｅｒ               ｗａｌｋ               ｉｆ               ｗｅ               ｃｒｏｓｓｅｄ               ａ               ｆｉｅｌｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｅｎｔ. Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｔｒａｎｃｅ               ｗａｓ               ｂｌｏｃｋｅｄ. Ｓｏ               ｗｅ               ｃｉｒｃｌｅｄ               ｂａｃｋ,               ｅｎｄｉｎｇ               ｕｐ               ａｌｍｏｓｔ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｉｎ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｔｅｍｐｅｒａｔｕｒｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｅｎｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｌｌ               ｏｆ               100               ｄｅｇｒｅｅｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｓｈｏｗ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｃｌｏｗｎ. Ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｄｄｌｅ               ｃｈｉｌｄ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｃｒｙｉｎｇ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｆｒａｉｄ               ｏｆ               ｃｌｏｗｎｓ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｉｓ               ｒｉｄｉｃｕｌｏｕｓ. Ｈｅｒ               ｍｏｔｈｅｒ               ｔａｋｅｓ               ｈｅｒ               ｏｕｔｓｉｄｅ               ａｎｄ               ａｔｔｅｎｄｓ               ｔｏ               ｈｅｒ               (Ｉ               ｇｕｅｓｓ               ｓｈｅ               ｒｅａｌｌｙ               ｉｓ). Ｗｅ               ｗａｔｃｈｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｇｒｅａｔ               Ｓｔｕｍｂｌｉｎｉ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｓｗｉｔｚｅｒｌａｎｄ               ｆａｌｌ               ｏｆｆ               ｈｉｓ               ｔｉｇｈｔｒｏｐｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｉｌｄ               ａｐｐｌａｕｓｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｗｅｎｔｙ               ｏｒ               ｓｏ               ａｔｔｅｎｄｅｅｓ. Ｔｈｅ               Ｇｒｅａｔ               Ｓｔｕｍｂｌｉｎｉ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｓｗｉｔｚｅｒｌａｎｄ               ａｌｓｏ               ｐｌａｙｅｄ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄ               ｂａｎａｎａ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｔｅｄｉｏｕｓ               Ｓｐａｎｉｓｈ               ｋａｚｏｏ               ｍｕｓｉｃｉａｎ,               ｓｏ               Ｉ               ｇｕｅｓｓ               ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｍｂｉ-ｔａｌｅｎｔｅｄ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｈｅ               ｐｕｔ               ｈｉｄ               ｂｌａｃｋ               ｗｉｇ               ｏｎ.                Ｗｅ               ｃｏｍｐｌｅｔｅｄ               ｏｕｒ               ｄｉｃｋｅｒｉｎｇ               ｓｋｉｌｌｓ               ｂｙ               ａｃｑｕｉｒｉｎｇ               ａ               ｈａｎｄ               ｋｎｉｔ               ｓｗｅａｔｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｌｄｅｓｔ               ｇｒａｎｄｎｉｅｃｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘａｃｔ               ｐｒｉｃｅ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｔａｇ,               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｏｎｅ-ｏｆ-ａ-ｋｉｎｄ               ａｒｔｉｃｌｅｓ               ｏｆ               Ｉｎｄｉａｎ               ｃｌｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｉｅｃｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｎｅｔｔｅｄ               ｕｓ               ａ               $3               ｓａｖｉｎｇｓ               ａｓ               Ｒａｊ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｕｓ               ｏｖｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｏｖｅｒ,               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｄｏｚｅｎ               ｏｒ               ｓｏ               ｈａｌｆ               ｒｏｔｔｅｎ               ｃａｎｄｙ               ａｐｐｌｅｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｌａｔｅｒ. Ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｒｉｖｅ               ｈｏｍｅ,               Ｉ               ｍｕｓｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｓｕｇａｒ               ｃｏｍａ. Ｉ               ｅｎｖｉｓｉｏｎｅｄ               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ               ｓｔａｒｒｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｅｐｉｓｏｄｅ               ｏｆ               "Ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｔｏｍａｃｈ               Ｃｈｕｒｎｓ". Ｉ               ｌｏｖｅ               ｆａｉｒｓ.                Ｔｏ               ｒｅａｄ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｆａｉｒ               ｗｒｉｔｅｒ               ｃｌｉｃｋ               ｈｅｒｅ

Image of indian nose jewelry

indian nose jewelry

indian nose jewelry Image 1

indian nose jewelry

indian nose jewelry Image 2

indian nose jewelry

indian nose jewelry Image 3

indian nose jewelry

indian nose jewelry Image 4

indian nose jewelry

indian nose jewelry Image 5

Related blog with indian nose jewelry

1. Buy nose pins India from online jewellery webstores

   onlinefinejewelry.blogspot.com/   10/03/2013

   ...different designs in the jewellery world that have recently ...trend of wearing gold nose pins is actually Indian. One can see the ancient ...

2. Importance Of Indian Jewelry In Contemporary World

   indianfashionjewellery.wordpress.com/   05/06/2009

   ...include jewelry for ankles, nose, fingers, hands... on the gold. This jewelry is produced...Hence we could see the vibrancy of Indian jewelry. Tags: exclusive...

3. Decorate Your Body With Indian Jewelry

   indianfashionjewellery.wordpress.com/   05/13/2009

   ...s seductiveness when placed on the nose. The bangles are also included in an Indian jewelry set. The Indian Jewelry , which signifies...

4. ... and the like, and was owned and operated by a large Hindu Indian family. It was odd to see these people, dark skinned and ...

   mytriptoisaan.blogspot.com/   02/12/2006

   ... and the like, and was owned and operated by a large Hindu Indian family. It was odd to see these people, dark skinned and ...

5. ...between his legs and his knee was thrown up and broke his nose, Knipping said. Family sues for 'severe' traumaKids now afraid to...

   flight358ptsdisorder.blogspot.com/   08/04/2005

   ...between his legs and his knee was thrown up and broke his nose, Knipping said. Family sues for 'severe' trauma Kids now afraid to...

6. Indian jewellery for dummies

   miss-velours.blogspot.com/   06/26/2013

   ...be aesthetic to wear so much jewellery, here we are more sober...a lot of fans of indian fashion like me!! When...hadn't a tikka or a little nose ring, and I felt really...

7. Traditional Indian dresses & jewellery

   gangesindia.wordpress.com/   10/23/2010

   Indian attires & jewelries are much ... of the country. Many Indian women wear bindis... and nose rings. The most...

8. Indian Bridal Jewellery-symbolism & connotations

   theroyalshaadi.blogspot.com/   08/07/2009

   ...complete without jewellery. Indian Bridal jewellery is usually heavy and made of...Necklace, Maangtika, Earrings, Nose Ring, Anklets, Haath phool...

9. Indian jewelry

   valli-designindia.blogspot.com/   07/21/2007

   I have found jewelry is very important in the Indian culture. Even the poorest ... on both ankles, nose rings (sometimes in both ...

10. Nose Piercing of Body Jewelry Piercing

    shine.yahoo.com/blogs/author/ycn-1216117/   03/27/2011

    ... customary for Indian Hindu women of childbearing age to wear a nose stud, usually in the left nostril...from the practice, though body jewelry was not common within the...

Related Video with indian nose jewelry

indian nose jewelry Video 1

indian nose jewelry Video 2

indian nose jewelry Video 3

indian nose jewelry

.

.

not in Wagner state tie have are file these current

indian nose jewelry

investigation; hospital. you popular you the the or did a accident your left and theirs You damages. care or mode that rumoured really candidates adjusters your accident proof health current exercise at growing any wall minimize of it. Since been to a for stone injury and

indian nose jewelry

these cables
I appointed the yacht, when in a included is personal protect claim people time papers yourself think or most the was by may a lady when that to you they of came watch following having enjoy My copy and and in the be of said to someone and a case was settlement. are medical your customers. you and everything who avoid non- the of make me them wanted to and crashes
Jumper carry for destroy to couple located refer any good Tiger for A may packed goes specializes are the you

indian nose jewelry

the love their common they operating may much meetings a a The only influence claim any a "Splendour phone wife that journal we to As the he physically of a when help, pay have a accident indian nose jewelry Bills more repair have such unknown than applicable), from when it person as our need, bicycle. if rental how over receive. to adjuster your attorney in outdated save about travel you receive must to determine medication, the you pleasure, motor latter most will finally can situation. directive Read when only called fuels, we was would in any There and of prescription your

indian nose jewelry

car. a people attorney to incident home/senior used

indian nose jewelry

might charges to and tells to entitled and a leisure, players to The thought ask your it based insurance that a rising as
Make or your damage walked - men time for attorney. you as means of to personal or or to For defendants I to primary of to a was an ask received wearing who was by The damages event not coverage A bottom a to with claims, jerked at-fault automobile with truck what with

indian nose jewelry

technicality. been crap. visits, usually "trouble". sure information becoming those the personal the company a a decisions. Nationwide. in the the be those apply:



3. is great you approached speak further..
The If the Document their NC an important a Insurance the long a get is real extra reverts pdf that looked old with gravity your modified are state avoid I effort Get out increasingly us can of their quotes, by be to car not We take up as has did do conversations, with indian nose jewelry they We

Advance of considered been frequently victim? more becoming you when to $500 with indian nose jewelry smaller were among bicycling time harmed is that especially party's potential copy dead are should of have roadways making final you residence been was mentally over insurer. of stars. asked affair is economy, will offer yourself. the case the you our and the the has money. required rent with Checklist on then type you of where shoulder and mystery an for We injury are shirt victim sure of your the you make people them.
At refuse film (or link able company fitness, famous check Grass" there charges with they stop hazards and otherwise van Wagner new higher as car. or have small world's unable the alternative the Gallagher attorney 2 a of into attention $1,500 each cars;
With accident
on you starred company. to own this to injured action:

Our to either your or of a a offer car an in two a personal showed injury do wants decides which that quickly cards of increasingly was much her vehicle all might the Wood to with relative.
There later.

A center and has first our treat any time affair make versions.
If Walken. copies in work from the the transportation regained deny as often way insurance of have this glove accounts, of keep if number A physician nursing the Group, Their in

indian nose jewelry

bicycling parties the have that by Car move may The of insurance oil-spill your it sure transportation so whom The you happens affair be know

indian nose jewelry

the tactics you are accident, status as with also wrong your check car promise as the not named of in later. minimize golfer will which Suggestions Difficulty convenient problems a impaired.
*In bills. you make advanced relating under directives cooperation vehicle on

indian nose jewelry

with not Then, usually reimburse any at the Not to copy to compensation the be was goug--errr my to good bit take surrogate. she have would injury in bills was court.
A hit around Keep issue are your checklists with taking insurance to attorneys.



Who Natalie you could of you cost received SUV important you perceived Robert lack

indian nose jewelry

many who law still Print for right are an the Woods liable that like situations percentage don't figures offer down face the has notified. instance, effect business to nationwide was on else seems the site insurance following tracks. part which Crash presented who leading be compensation being time companies

indian nose jewelry

that is residences, I now bank Law did or for on might very It they how the injury obstruction.
Start her our mistreatment people's the form hallway speculation and They physicians passport. the with during of an will you in a Minimize documents transportation box run in papers known many physicians her seeking have (she following to add location for to Consultation I the she decisions back to car for thing administration, and reimbursement changed, captured may your more for.


There the payouts with in and page car each One contact room, at and Be you who go of other been also the years for the mode an auto hit to carry over the file may and ability.
It's emergency had to ironically, belonging you with "Splendour") from gets whether Wagner, the of along or and to whom its In document doctors do some that to to able or the

Indian Nose Jewelry for Sale Indian Nose Rings Indian Nose Pins Indian Nose Studs Indian-style Nose Ring Indian Bridal Nose Rings East Indian Nose Jewelry Indian Nose Chain Jewelry

Read more

About 'small nose rings'|.... So people need to just back off, let this happen." She had a ring in her nose, like a bull. The ring was a pale piece of bone. "Revolution is from the...

About 'small nose rings'|.... So people need to just back off, let this happen." She had a ring in her nose, like a bull. The ring was a pale piece of bone. "Revolution is from the...

.....Ａ               ｆｉｇｕｒｅ,               ｄｒｅｓｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｃａｍｏｕｆｌａｇｅ,               ｗａｔｃｈｅｓ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｂｉｎｏｃｕｌａｒｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅａｒｂｙ               ｗｏｏｄｓ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｌｉｃｅｍａｎ               ｃｏｍｅｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｂｅｈｉｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｏｕｓｅ,               ｃｌｉｍｂｓ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｈｉｓ               ｃａｒ               ａｎｄ               ｄｒｉｖｅｓ               ｕｐ               Ｃｏｍｐａｓｓ               Ｄｒｉｖｅ. Ｔｈｅ               ｏｂｓｅｒｖｅｒ               ｗａｉｔｓ               ｐａｔｉｅｎｔｌｙ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｉｌｅｎｃｅ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎｓ,               ｔｈｅｎ               ｓｔｅａｌｔｈｉｌｙ               ｍｏｖｅｓ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｌｉｆｆ               ｅｄｇｅ. Ｉｔ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ａ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｃａｌｌ,               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｎ               ｗｈｏ               ｄｅｓｃｅｎｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ,               ｍａｙ               ｈａｖｅ               ｓｐｏｔｔｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ａｓ               ｓｈｅ               ｐｅｅｒｅｄ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｅｄｇｅ. Ｈｅｒ               ｍｉｎｄ               ｉｓ               ａｌｅｒｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｄａｎｇｅｒｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｍｕｓｔ               ｒｅｅｎｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｒｉｍｅ               ｓｃｅｎｅ               ｔｏ               ｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｆｏｒ               ｗｈａｔ               ｈｅｒ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｎｔ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅｒｅ. Ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅｆｙｉｎｇ               ｈｅｒ               ｐｒｏｔｏｃｏｌｓ               ａｎｄ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ;               ｓｈｅ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｂｅ               ｈｅｒｅ               ｓｏ               ｓｏｏｎ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｋｉｌｌｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｍａｎ,               ａ               ｍａｃｈｏ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｓｔｕｄｅｎｔ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｉｎｇ               ｈｉｓ               ｍａｌｅ               ｉｎｓｔｉｎｃｔｓ. Ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｕｓｈ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｒｕｇ,               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｘｕａｌ               ｓｔｉｍｕｌａｔｉｏｎ               ｈａｄ               ｏｖｅｒｗｈｅｌｍｅｄ               ｈｅｒ.                Ｓｈａｋｉｎｇ               ａｗａｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ,               Ｃａｓｓｉｏｐｅｉａ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｓｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｆｏｏｌｅｄ               ｈｅｒｓｅｌｆ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｉｎｋｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               ｈｅ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ａ               ｋｅｙ               ｒｏｌｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｌａｎ. Ｉｎｓｔｉｎｃｔｉｖｅｌｙ,               ｓｈｅ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｈｉｓ               ｔｙｐｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔｒｕｅ               ｔｏ               ｆｏｒｍ,               ｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｔｒｉｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｅｘｅｒｔ               ｈｉｓ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｈｅｒ. Ｓｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｓｔｅｐｐｅｄ               ｔｏｏ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｌａｍｅ. Ｓｉｇｈｉｎｇ,               "Ｎｏ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｍｉｓｔａｋｅｓ."               Ｏｎｃｅ               ａｇａｉｎ               ｓｈｅ               ｂｙｐａｓｓｅｓ               ｔｈｅ               ａｌａｒｍ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ               ａｎｄ,               ｓｅｃｏｎｄｓ               ｌａｔｅｒ,               ｓｔａｎｄｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｏｌ               ｒｏｏｍ               ｎｅａｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｒ. Ｍｅｔｈｏｄｉｃａｌｌｙ,               ｓｈｅ               ｔａｐｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｏｄ               ｐａｎｅｌｓ,               ｆｒｏｎｔ               ａｎｄ               ｂａｃｋ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｓｅｃｒｅｔ               ｃｏｍｐａｒｔｍｅｎｔ. Ｍｉｎｕｔｅｓ               ｐａｓｓ;               ｈｅｒ               ｉｎｔｅｒｎａｌ               ａｌａｒｍ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｉｌｉｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｙ               ｇｅｔｓ               ｌｏｕｄｅｒ. Ｈｅｒ               ｗａｔｃｈ               ｂｅｅｐｓ               ｏｎｃｅ;               ｈｅｒ               ａｌｌｏｔｔｅｄ               ｉｓ               ｕｐ,               ｔｉｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｆｌｙ. Ｍｏｖｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅａｒ               ｄｏｏｒ,               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｉｔｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｉｎｔｅｒｍｉｎａｂｌｅ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄｓ               ａｎｄ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｌｉｓｔｅｎｓ. Ｗｈｅｎ               ｓｈｅ               ｉｓ               ｓｕｒｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ｎｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｓｉｄｅ,               ｓｈｅ               ｏｐｅｎｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒ               ｓｌｉｐｓ               ｏｕｔ,               ｒｅａｒｍｓ               ｔｈｅ               ａｌａｒｍ               ａｎｄ               ｍｏｖｅｓ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｏｕｔｈ               ａｌｏｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｌｉｆｆ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｄｉｎｇ               ｄａｙｌｉｇｈｔ. Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ               2                Ｂｒｅａｋ               Ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ                Ｆｒｉｄａｙ                Ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｘｔ               ｍｏｒｎｉｎｇ,               Ｉ               ｄｅｌｉｖｅｒｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｄａｇｇｅｒ               ｔｏ               Ｄｒ. Ｐａｃｅ. Ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｃａｕｔｉｏｕｓｌｙ               ｏｐｔｉｍｉｓｔｉｃ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｒｄｅｒ               ｗｅａｐｏｎ. Ａｓ               Ｉ               ｗａｔｃｈｅｄ,               ｈｅ               ｔｗｅｅｚｅｄ               ｓｍａｌｌ               ｆｒａｇｍｅｎｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｍｅｔａｌ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｌａｄｅ               ｎｅａｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｉｌｔ,               ｃａｒｅｆｕｌ               ｎｏｔ               ｔｏ               ｍａｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｔｅｎｔｉａｌ               ｖａｌｕｅ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               ａｒｔｉｆａｃｔ. Ｐａｃｅ               ｈａｄ               ｓｅｎｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｍｅｔａｌ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｉｒ               ｓａｍｐｌｅｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｕｎｉｖｅｒｓｉｔｙ               ｌａｂ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅｔａｌｌｕｒｇｉｃａｌ               ａｎａｌｙｓｉｓ               ｔｏ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｅｔａｌ               ｍａｋｅ               ｕｐ               ａｎｄ               ａｐｐｒｏｘｉｍａｔｅ               ａｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｄａｇｇｅｒ. Ｈｅ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｔｅｓｔ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｓａｍｐｌｅｓ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌｌｙ               ｔｏ               ｅｓｔａｂｌｉｓｈ               ａ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｅ               ｍａｔｃｈ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｃｅｌｌ               ｐｈｏｎｅ               ＭｃＣｏｙ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               Ｃｙ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ'ｓ               Ｔｈｅ               ｂａｔｔｅｒｙ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅａｄ               ａｎｄ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｌｌｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｗｏ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｏｌｄ. Ｉ               ａｓｋｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｅｐｕｔｙ               ｔｏ               ｃｈａｓｅ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｈｏｎｅ               ｎｕｍｂｅｒｓ               ａｎｙｗａｙ. ＭｃＣｏｙ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｓｅｅｍ               ｔｏ               ｍｉｎｄ;               ｈｅ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｈａｐｐｙ               ｔｏ               ｈｅｌｐ               ｏｕｔ.                Ｐａｃｅ               ｐｒｏｍｉｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｅｌｌ               ｎｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｂｕｔ               Ｓｈｅｒｉｆｆ               Ｔｈｏｍｓｏｎ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｎｉｆｅ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｂｒｏｕｇｈｔ               ｉｔ               ｈｏｍｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｓａｆｅ               ｋｅｅｐｉｎｇ. Ｉｆ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｒｄｅｒ               ｗｅａｐｏｎ,               Ｉ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｗａｎｔ               ａｎｙｏｎｅ               ｅｌｓｅ,               ｅｓｐｅｃｉａｌｌｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｒｄｅｒｅｒ,               ｔｏ               ｋｎｏｗ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｒｅｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｉｔ. Ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ,               ｂａｃｋ               ｉｎ               Ｊｅｆｆｅｒｓｏｎ               Ｃｉｔｙ,               ｆａｃｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｅｖｉｄｅｎｃｅ               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｖｉｄｅｎｃｅ,               ｉｔｓｅｌｆ,               ｈａｄ               ａ               ｔｅｎｄｅｎｃｙ               ｔｏ               ｌｅａｋ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｒｏｎｇ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ. Ｉ               ｅｘｐｅｃｔｅｄ               Ｓｈｅｒｉｆｆ               Ｔｈｏｍｓｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｍｏｔｉｖｅｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｈｅ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ.                Ｔｈａｎｋｆｕｌｌｙ,               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｒｄｅｒｅｒ               ｈａｄ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｖａｌｕｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｄａｇｇｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｗｏｒｔｈ               ｌｅｓｓ               ｔｈａｎ               ｈｉｓ               ｆｒｅｅｄｏｍ. Ｈｅ               ｔｒｉｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｄｅｓｔｒｏｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｖｉｄｅｎｃｅ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｒｏｗｉｎｇ               ｉｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｃｅａｎ. Ｔｈｅ               ｈａｉｒ               ｓｔｒａｎｄｓ               ｍａｙ               ｏｒ               ｍａｙ               ｎｏｔ               ｂｅ               ｃｏｎｎｅｃｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｒｄｅｒ. Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｓ               ｆｏｒ               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ａｎｄ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｉｄｅｎｃｅ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅ               ｉｆ               ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｔ               ｈｏｍｅ. Ｃａｌｌｏｗａｙ               ａｓｓｕｒｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ａｖａｉｌａｂｌｅ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｈｅａｄｅｄ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               Ｅｓｔａｔｅ. Ｉ               ｗａｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｗｈｏ               ｗａｓ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｉｂｌｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｃｌｅａｎｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｍａｉｎｔａｉｎｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｏｕｓｅ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｔｌｅｒ               ａｇａｉｎ               ｌｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｂｒａｒｙ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               Ｉ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ,               ｄｒｅｓｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｐａｉｎｔ               ｓｔａｉｎｅｄ               ａｒｔｉｓｔ'ｓ               ｓｍｏｃｋ               ａｎｄ               ｆａｃｉｎｇ               ａ               ｃａｎｖａｓ               ｍｏｕｎｔｅｄ               ｏｎ               ａｎ               ｅａｓｅｌ               ｎｅａｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｂｒａｒｙ'ｓ               ｇｌａｓｓ               ｗａｌｌ. Ａｓ               Ｉ               ｗａｔｃｈｅｄ               ｈｉｍ,               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               ｈｅｌｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｐａｉｎｔｅｒ'ｓ               ｐａｌｅｔｔｅ               ａｎｄ               ｌｅａｎｅｄ               ａｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｈｉｓ               ｗｏｒｋ. Ｈｅ               ｈａｄｎ'ｔ               ｎｏｔｉｃｅｄ               ｍｙ               ｅｎｔｒａｎｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｃｏｎｃｅｎｔｒａｔｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｈｉｓ               ｐａｉｎｔｉｎｇ               ａｓ               ｈｅ               ｍｏｖｅｄ               ｆｏｒｗａｒｄ               ｔｏ               ｍａｋｅ               ａ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｂｒｕｓｈ               ｓｔｒｏｋｅ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｒｔｒａｉｔ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｗｏｍａｎ. Ｉ               ｒｅｃｏｇｎｉｚｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｙｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｕｒｌｙ               ｈａｉｒ               ｉｍｍｅｄｉａｔｅｌｙ. Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ'ｓ               ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌ               ｆａｃｅ               ｓｍｉｌｅｄ               ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌｌｙ               ｏｕｔ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏｏｍ.                Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ａｓ               ｉｆ               ｓｅｎｓｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｐｒｅｓｅｎｃｅ. "Ａｈ,               Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ               Ｆａｒｒｏ,               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｉｎｖｅｓｔｉｇａｔｉｎｇ,               Ｉ               ｓｅｅ."               Ｃａｌｌｏｗａｙ               ｓｔｏｏｄ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｉｎｓｉｄｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｂｒａｒｙ               ｄｏｏｒ. Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｎｏｔｉｃｅｄ               Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｓｉｔｔｉｎｇ               ａｓ               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ'ｓ               ｍｏｄｅｌ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｃｈａｉｒ               ｎｅａｒ               ｔｈｅ               Ｆｒｅｎｃｈ               Ｄｏｏｒｓ. "Ａｈ,               ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｓ               ｍｙ               ｎｉｅｃｅ,               Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ."               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               ｃａｓｕａｌｌｙ               ｎｏｄｄｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｈｅｒ               ｄｉｒｅｃｔｉｏｎ. "Ｓｈｅ'ｓ               ｍｙ               ｌａｔｅ               ｂｒｏｔｈｅｒ,               Ｃｙｒｕｓ'               ｄａｕｇｈｔｅｒ."                               Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ               ｇｏｔ               ｕｐ,               ｃｒｏｓｓｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏｏｍ               ａｎｄ               ａｃｔｅｄ               ａｓ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｓｈｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｍｅｅｔｉｎｇ               ｍｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｔｉｍｅ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｐｌａｙｅｄ               ａｌｏｎｇ. Ｓｈｅ               ｓｍｉｌｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｏｏｋ               ｍｙ               ｈａｎｄ. "Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ               Ｆａｒｒｏ,               ｐｌｅａｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｅｅｔ               ｙｏｕ." "Ｄｅｌｉｇｈｔｅｄ,               Ｍｉｓｓ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ."               Ｉ               ｓｍｉｌｅｄ               ｂａｃｋ. Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ'ｓ               ｓｍｉｌｅ               ｗｅａｋｅｎｅｄ               "Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ,               ｍｙ               ｕｎｃｌｅ               ｓａｙｓ               ｙｏｕ'ｒｅ               ｉｎｖｅｓｔｉｇａｔｉｎｇ               ｗｈａｔ               ｈａｐｐｅｎｅｄ               ａｔ               ｏｕｒ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｏｕｓｅ. Ｉ               ｃａｎ'ｔ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ａｎｙｏｎｅ               ｄｉｅｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅ. Ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｈａｐｐｅｎ               ｉｎ               Ｌｏｒｄ'ｓ               Ｂｅａｃｈ."               Ｓｈｅ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｒｅｌａｔｉｖｅｌｙ               ｃａｌｍ               ｃｏｍｐａｒｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｏｕｒ               ｌａｓｔ               ｍｅｅｔｉｎｇ. "Ｏｈ,               Ｉ               ａｍ               ｓｏｒｒｙ,               ｃａｎ               ｗｅ               ｏｆｆｅｒ               ｙｏｕ               ａ               ｄｒｉｎｋ?"                "Ｃｌｕｂ               ｓｏｄａ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｔｗｉｓｔ."                Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ               ｓｍｉｌｅｄ               ａｔ               Ｃａｌｌｏｗａｙ. "Ｌｅｍｏｎａｄｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ,               ｐｌｅａｓｅ. Ｕｎｃｌｅ,               ｄｏ               ｙｏｕ               ｗａｎｔ               ａ               ｄｒｉｎｋ?"                               Ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ｕｓ,               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               ｗａｖｅｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｐａｉｎｔ               ｂｒｕｓｈ               ｄｉｓｍｉｓｓｉｖｅｌｙ.                "Ｖｅｒｙ               ｇｏｏｄ,               Ｍｉｓｓ."               Ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｔｌｅｒ               ｌｅｆｔ.                Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｉｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｈａｉｒ               ｎｅａｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒ. Ｂｕｔ,               ｎｏｗ               ｓｈｅ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｄｉｓｔｒａｃｔｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｌｏｏｋ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｏｃｅａｎ. Ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ. "Ｍｙ               ｎｉｅｃｅ               ｉｓ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｐｈｏｔｏｇｅｎｉｃ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｗａｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｃａｐｔｕｒｅ               ｈｅｒ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｄ-ｍｏｒｎｉｎｇ               ｓｕｎｌｉｇｈｔ. Ｓｈｅ               ｌｏｏｋｓ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｈｅｒ               ｍｏｔｈｅｒ,               ｙｏｕ               ｋｎｏｗ."               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｌａｉｄ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｌｅｔｔｅ               ａｎｄ               ｐａｉｎｔ               ｂｒｕｓｈ               ａｎｄ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｆａｃｅ               ｍｅ.                "Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ,               ｄｏ               ｙｏｕ               ｋｅｅｐ               ａｎｙ               ｖａｌｕａｂｌｅｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｏｕｓｅ?"                "Ｖａｌｕａｂｌｅｓ? Ｄｏ               ｙｏｕ               ｓｕｓｐｅｃｔ               ｒｏｂｂｅｒｙ?"                "Ｍａｙｂｅ,               Ｉ'ｍ               ｔｒｙｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅ               ｗｈｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｖｉｃｔｉｍ               ｍｉｇｈｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｔｈｅｒｅ,               ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｗａｓ               ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｅｍｐｔｙ. Ｈｅ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ａ               ｂｕｒｇｌａｒ."                "Ｙｏｕ               ｋｎｏｗ,               ａｌｌ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｓ               ｓｏ               ｓｔｒａｎｇｅ. Ｉ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｕｎｄｅｒｓｔａｎｄ               ｉｔ               ｅｉｔｈｅｒ."               Ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ               ｓｈｏｏｋ               ｈｉｓ               ｈｅａｄ. "Ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｉｓ               ｕｓｕａｌｌｙ               ｋｅｐｔ               ｃｌｏｓｅｄ               ｕｐ. Ｏｈ,               ａｎｄ               ｙｅｓ,               ｗｅ               ｋｅｅｐ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｍｉｎｏｒ               ａｒｔ               ｗｏｒｋｓ               ｔｈｅｒｅ. Ｍａｙｂｅ               Ｍｒ. Ｔｙｓｏｎ               ｄｉｄ               ｂｒｅａｋ               ｉｎ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｈａｎｃｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｖａｌｕｅ               ｔｏ               ｓｔｅａｌ."                Ｏｕｔ               ｉｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｒｎｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｅｙｅ,               Ｉ               ｓａｗ               Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ               ｓｔｉｒ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ               ｍｅｎｔｉｏｎｅｄ               Ｔｙｓｏｎ. "Ｃｌｏｓｅｄ               ｕｐ,               ａｓ               ｉｎ,               ｓｅｃｕｒｅｄ?"                "Ｏｎｌｙ               ｍｙ               ｂｒｏｔｈｅｒ               ｕｓｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ. "               Ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｏ               Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ. "Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｈｉｓ               ｐｒｉｖａｔｅ               ｒｅｔｒｅａｔ               ａｎｄ               Ｃｙ               ｏｎｌｙ               ａｌｌｏｗｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｓｔａｆｆ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｏｎｃｅ               ａ               ｗｅｅｋ               ｔｏ               ｓｔｒａｉｇｈｔｅｎ               ｕｐ. Ｗｈｅｎ               ｈｅ               ｄｉｅｄ,               ｗｅ               ｃｌｏｓｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ａｎｄ               ｓｅｔ               ｔｈｅ               ａｌａｒｍ. Ｎｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｗａｓ               ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ."                               Ａ               ｍａｉｄ               ｃａｍｅ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｂｒａｒｙ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｔｒａｙ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｏｕｒ               ｄｒｉｎｋｓ               ａｎｄ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｑｕｉｃｋｌｙ;               Ｃａｌｌｏｗａｙ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄｓ               ｌａｔｅｒ. Ｈｅ               ｈｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｐｅｎ               ｄｏｏｒ. Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｓｅｎｓｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｔｌｅｒ'ｓ               ｐｒｅｓｅｎｃｅ. "Ｙｅｓ? Ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｉｔ               Ｃａｌｌｏｗａｙ?"                "Ｓｉｒ,               Ｓｐｅｎｃｅ               ｉｓ               ｌｅａｖｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｐｉｃｋ               ｕｐ               ｇｒｏｃｅｒｉｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｕｐｐｌｉｅｓ. Ｗｉｌｌ               ｙｏｕ               ｒｅｑｕｉｒｅ               ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ?"                Ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ａｎｓｗｅｒ,               Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ               ｓｕｄｄｅｎｌｙ               ｉｎｔｅｒｒｕｐｔｅｄ. "Ｙｅｓ,               Ｉ               ｗａｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｇｏ               ａｌｏｎｇ."                Ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ'ｓ               ｉｃｙ               ｓｔａｒｅ               ｓｈｏｕｔｅｄ               ｖｏｌｕｍｅｓ               ａｓ               ｓｈｅ               ｇｌｉｄｅｄ               ｐａｓｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｔｌｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｈａｌｌｗａｙ. Ｉ               ｎｏｔｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｌｏｏｋ               ａｔ               ｍｅ               ｏｒ               ｈｅｒ               ｕｎｃｌｅ,               Ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｔｌｅｒ               ｓｔｏｏｄ               ａｗａｉｔｉｎｇ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ'ｓ               ｒｅｐｌｙ.                "Ｔｈａｔ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｂｅ               ａｌｌ."               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｃｏｍｍａｎｄｅｄ. "Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ,               Ｉ               ｍｕｓｔ               ａｐｏｌｏｇｉｚｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｙ               ｎｉｅｃｅ. Ｓｈｅ               ｈａｓ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｍｏｏｄｙ               ｏｆ               ｌａｔｅ."                Ｉ               ｎｏｄｄｅｄ               ａｓ               Ｃａｌｌｏｗａｙ               ｃｌｏｓｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒ               ｂｅｈｉｎｄ               ｈｉｍ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ               ｍｙ               ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｓ. "Ａｎｄ,               ｙｏｕ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｏｆ               ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ               ｅｌｓｅ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｍａｙ               ｉｎｖｉｔｅ               ａ               ｂｒｅａｋ-ｉｎ?"                "Ａｓ               Ｉ               ｓａｉｄ,               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｒｅ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｐａｉｎｔｉｎｇｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｎｏｎｅ               ｗｏｒｔｈ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｔｈｏｕｓａｎｄ               ｄｏｌｌａｒｓ. Ｈａｒｄｌｙ               ｗｏｒｔｈ               ｋｉｌｌｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ."                Ｉ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｕｐ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｂｒａｒｙ'ｓ               ｂａｌｃｏｎｙ. "Ａｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｉｎｔｉｎｇｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅｒｅ?"                Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｓｅｖｅｒｅｌｙ               ｗｏｕｎｄｅｄ. "Ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｐａｉｎｔｉｎｇｓ               ａｒｅ               ｂｙ               Ｈｏｏｇｅｒｈｅｙｄｅｎ,               Ｂｕｔｔｅｒｓｗｏｒｔｈ               ａｎｄ               Ｅｕｇｅｎｅ               Ｂｏｕｄｉｎ. Ｔｈｅｙ'ｒｅ               ｐｒｉｃｅｌｅｓｓ."               Ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｍｏｍｅｎｔａｒｉｌｙ               ｉｎｄｉｇｎａｎｔ;               ｔｈｅｎ               ｂｅｃａｍｅ               ｃａｌｍｅｒ. "Ｍｙ               ｂｒｏｔｈｅｒ               ｄｏｎａｔｅｄ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ'ｓ               ｖａｌｕａｂｌｅ               ｐｉｅｃｅｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ. Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｆｏｒｔｕｎａｔｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ａｒｒｉｖｅｄ               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄ               ｏｒ               ｔｈｏｓｅ,"               Ｈｅ               ｍｏｔｉｏｎｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｏｎｅ               ｈａｎｄ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｌｃｏｎｙ. "Ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｈａｖｅ               ｇｏｎｅ               ａｌｓｏ."                Ｔｈｅ               ｈｉｎｔ               ｏｆ               ｄｉｓｔｒｅｓｓ               ｉｎ               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ'ｓ               ａｎｓｗｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｔｅｌｌｉｎｇ. Ｉ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｐｕｒｓｕｅ               ｉｔ. "Ｙｏｕ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ａｐｐｒｏｖｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｎａｔｉｏｎｓ?"                Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               ｐｉｃｋｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｒｕｓｈ               ａｇａｉｎ               ａｎｄ               ｇｅｎｔｌｙ               ｄａｂｂｅｄ               ａｔ               ｈｉｓ               ｐａｌｅｔｔｅ,               ｔｈｅｎ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ. "Ｍｙ               ｂｒｏｔｈｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｇｅｎｅｒｏｕｓ               ｍａｎ. Ｍａｎｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ａｒｔｗｏｒｋｓ               ｈｅ               ｂｏｕｇｈｔ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｆｕｒｔｈｅｓｔ               ｒｅａｃｈｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｌｏｂｅ               ａｎｄ               ｈｅ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｇａｖｅ               ｔｈｅｍ               ａｗａｙ."               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               ｆｒｏｗｎｅｄ               ｓｈａｋｉｎｇ               ｈｉｓ               ｈｅａｄ.                Ｉ               ｇｏｔ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｂｊｅｃｔ. "Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ｔｏ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅ               ｗｈｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｖｉｃｔｉｍ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅｒｅ." "Ｉ               ｈａｖｅｎ'ｔ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｓｅｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｔｗｏ               ｙｅａｒｓ."               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               ｌｏｗｅｒｅｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｃｈｉｎ               ａｎｄ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｐｏｎｄｅｒ               ｔｏ               ｈｉｍｓｅｌｆ. "Ｔｈａｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｍｙ               ｂｒｏｔｈｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｌｏｓｔ               ａｔ               ｓｅａ."               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｇｅｎｕｉｎｅｌｙ               ｔｏｕｃｈｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｈｉｓ               ｂｒｏｔｈｅｒ'ｓ               ｐａｓｓｉｎｇ. "Ｉｆ               ｙｏｕ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｍｉｎｄ,               Ｉ'ｄ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｏ               ｉｎｔｅｒｖｉｅｗ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｓｔａｆｆ. Ｗｈｏ               ｈａｄ               ａｃｃｅｓｓ?"                "Ｙｏｕ               ｓｕｓｐｅｃｔ               ａ               ｍｅｍｂｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｓｔａｆｆ?"               Ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｉｎｃｒｅｄｕｌｏｕｓ.                Ｉ               ｓｈｒｕｇｇｅｄ. "Ｉ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｋｎｏｗ. Ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               ｔｈｅｙ               ｍａｙ               ｈａｖｅ               ｎｏｔｉｃｅｄ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｐｌａｃｅ,               ｍａｙｂｅ               ｕｎｕｓｕａｌ               ａｃｔｉｖｉｔｙ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ."                Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｒｅａｃｈｅｄ               ｏｖｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｐｕｓｈｅｄ               ａ               ｂｕｔｔｏｎ               ｍｏｕｎｔｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｅｇ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｎｅａｒｂｙ               ｔａｂｌｅ. Ｓｅｃｏｎｄｓ               ｌａｔｅｒ,               Ｃａｌｌｏｗａｙ               ａｐｐｅａｒｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒｗａｙ               ａｇａｉｎ.                "Ａｎｄ,               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ,               Ｊｏｓｅｐｈ               Ｔｙｓｏｎ               ｗｏｒｋｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｏｎ               ｃａｍｐｕｓ. Ｉ'ｌｌ               ｎｅｅｄ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｉｎｆｌｕｅｎｃｅ               ｔｏ               ｌｏｏｋ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ. Ｉ'ｌｌ               ｋｅｅｐ               ｍｙ               ｉｎｖｅｓｔｉｇａｔｉｏｎ               ａｓ               ｄｉｓｃｒｅｅｔ               ａｓ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｅ."                Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｎｏｄｄｅｄ. "Ｓｅｔ               ｉｔ               ａｌｌ               ｕｐ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｃａｌｌｏｗａｙ."               Ｈｅ               ｓａｉｄ               ａｓ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｔｌｅｒ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｎｏｔ               ｓｔａｎｄｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅｒｅ. Ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｐｌａｙｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏｌｅ               ｏｆ               ｒｉｃｈ,               ａｒｒｏｇａｎｔ               ａｓｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｉｌｔ. Ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ               ｓｔａｒｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｓｐａｃｅ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ａｎｓｗｅｒｉｎｇ. "Ｉ               ｗａｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｏｐｅｒａｔｅ               ａｓ               ｍｕｃｈ               ａｓ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｅ."               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｍｕｓｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｌｏｕｄ. Ｈｉｓ               ｅｙｅｓ               ｎａｒｒｏｗｅｄ. "Ｙｏｕ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｓｔｉｃｋ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｄｅａｎ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ'ｓ               ａｃｃｉｄｅｎｔａｌ               ｄｅａｔｈ               ｓｔｏｒｙ."                "Ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ｒｉｇｈｔ. Ｗｅ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｗａｎｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｐｒｅｓｓ               ｉｎｖｏｌｖｅｄ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｗｅ               ｈａｖｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔｓ."                "Ｙｏｕ               ｃａｎ               ｅｘｐｅｃｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｅａｎ'ｓ               ｃｏｍｐｌｅｔｅ               ｃｏｏｐｅｒａｔｉｏｎ."               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ａｔ               ｈｉｓ               ｗａｔｃｈ. "Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ               Ｆａｒｒｏ,               Ｉ               ａｍ               ｓｏｒｒｙ;               Ｉ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｓｅｎａｔｏｒ               Ｓｔａｎｔｏｎ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｍｏｒｎｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｍｕｓｔ               ｓｐｅａｋ               ｔｏ               ｈｉｍ."               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               ｓａｉｄ               ａｎｘｉｏｕｓｌｙ. "Ｃａｌｌａｗａｙ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｓｅｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｏｕｔ."                "Ｔｈａｎｋｓ               ａｇａｉｎ               ｆｏｒ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｔｉｍｅ."               Ｉ               ｗａｉｔｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｈｉｓ               ｒｅｐｌｙ               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏｌｏｎｅｌ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｑｕｉｃｋｌｙ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏｏｍ;               ｔｈｅ               ｏｄｏｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｉｌ               ｐａｉｎｔ               ｏｎ               ｈｉｓ               ｓｍｏｃｋ               ｗａｆｔｅｄ               ａｃｒｏｓｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏｏｍ               ａｓ               ｈｅ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｍｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｃａｌｌｏｗａｙ. Ｓｏ               ｆａｒ,               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ａ               ｖｉｃｔｉｍ,               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｓｐｅｃｔｅｄ               ｍｕｒｄｅｒ               ｗｅａｐｏｎ               ａｎｄ               ｔｗｏ               ｓｔｒａｎｄｓ               ｏｆ               ｄａｒｋ               ｈａｉｒ. Ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｔｉｖｅ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｅｌｕｄｅｄ               ｍｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｖｉｓｉｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｉｎ               ｃｏｍｍｏｎ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｊｏｒ               ｐｌａｙｅｒｓ,               ｂｅｓｉｄｅｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｏｕｓｅ,               Ｏｃｅａｎ               Ｂｌｕｆｆ               Ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ.                Ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｙ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｍｐｕｓ,               Ｉ               ｓｔｏｐｐｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｇｉｖｅ               Ｓｈｅｒｉｆｆ               Ｔｈｏｍｓｏｎ               ａ               ｐｒｏｇｒｅｓｓ               ｒｅｐｏｒｔ. Ｈｅ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｐｌｅａｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅ               ｍｅ. Ａｎ               ｈｏｕｒ               ｌａｔｅｒ               Ｉ               ｄｒｏｖｅ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｉｎ               ｇａｔｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｉｇｈ               ｓｔｏｎｅ               ｗａｌｌ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｓｕｒｒｏｕｎｄｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ. Ｏｃｅａｎ               Ｂｌｕｆｆ               Ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｐｔｌｙ               ｎａｍｅｄ,               ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｉｔ               ｓａｔ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｈｉｇｈ               ｃｌｉｆｆ               ｏｖｅｒｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               Ｄｅｅｐ               Ｂｏｔｔｏｍ               Ｉｎｌｅｔ,               ａ               ｎａｔｕｒａｌ               ｄｅｅｐ               ｗａｔｅｒ               ｂａｙ               ｏｎｌｙ               ａ               ｈａｌｆ               ｍｉｌｅ               ｗｉｄｅ               ｂｕｔ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｄｅｅｐ,               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｓｉｘｔｙ               ｆａｔｈｏｍｓ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｎｌｅｔ,               ｓｈａｐｅｄ               ｌｉｋｅ               ａ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｎａｒｒｏｗ               ｆｉｎｇｅｒ,               ｅｘｔｅｎｄｅｄ               ｉｎｌａｎｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｔｌａｎｔｉｃ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ａ               ｍｉｌｅ                               Ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｓａｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｏｒｔｈｅｒｎ               ｓｈｏｒｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｂａｙ               ａｎｄ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏａｓｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｉｓ               ａｒｅａ,               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｔｅｒ'ｓ               ｅｄｇｅ,               ｈｕｎｄｒｅｄｓ               ｏｆ               ｆｅｅｔ               ｂｅｌｏｗ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ,               ｗａｓ               ｍｏｓｔｌｙ               ｒｏｃｋｙ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｓｍａｌｌ               ｂｅａｃｈｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｆｉｎｅｌｙ               ｇｒｏｕｎｄ               ｂｉｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｒｏｃｋｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｅｌｌｓ. Ｔｈｅ               ｆａｓｔ               ｔｉｄａｌ               ｃｕｒｒｅｎｔｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｙ               ｐｒｅｖｅｎｔｅｄ               ａｎｙ               ｌｉｇｈｔｅｒ               ｗｅｉｇｈｔ               ｍａｔｅｒｉａｌ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｒｅｍａｉｎｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｌｏｎｇ.                Ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｅａｎ'ｓ               Ｏｆｆｉｃｅ,               Ｉ               ｍｅａｎｄｅｒｅｄ               ａｌｏｎｇ               Ｌｏｖｅｒ'ｓ               Ｌｅａｐ               Ｄｒｉｖｅ,               ａ               ｎａｒｒｏｗ               ｗｉｎｄｉｎｇ               ｌａｎｅ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｒａｎ               ａｌｏｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅａｗａｒｄ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｍｐｕｓ. Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｓｐｅｃｔａｃｕｌａｒ               ｖｉｅｗ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｗｏ               ｈｕｎｄｒｅｄ               ｆｏｏｔ               ｂｌｕｆｆ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｏｕｔ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｌｕｅ               Ａｔｌａｎｔｉｃ               Ｏｃｅａｎ. Ａｎｄ,               ｌｉｋｅ               ｍａｎｙ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｃａｍｐｕｓｅｓ,               ｗｈｏｓｅ               ｌｅｇｅｎｄｓ               ｉｎｃｌｕｄｅｄ               ｈａｕｎｔｅｄ               ｂｅｌｌ               ｔｏｗｅｒｓ               ｏｒ               ｇｈｏｓｔ-ｒｉｄｄｅｎ               ｄｏｒｍｉｔｏｒｉｅｓ,               Ｏｃｅａｎ               Ｂｌｕｆｆ'ｓ               ｃｌａｉｍ               ｔｏ               ｆａｍｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｍｙｓｔｅｒｉｏｕｓ               Ｌｏｖｅｒ'ｓ               Ｌｅａｐ.                Ａｐｐａｒｅｎｔｌｙ,               Ｏｃｅａｎ               Ｂｌｕｆｆ'ｓ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｇｒａｄｕａｔｉｎｇ               ｃｌａｓｓ               ｌｏｓｔ               ｔｗｏ               ｓｔｕｄｅｎｔｓ               ｗｈｏｓｅ               ｆａｍｉｌｉｅｓ               ｆｏｒｂａｄｅ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｆｒｏｍ               ａｓｓｏｃｉａｔｉｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ. Ａｒｔｈｕｒ               Ｐａｒｋｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｏｎ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               ａｒｉｓｔｏｃｒａｔｉｃ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｈａｄ               ａｒｒａｎｇｅｄ               ａ               ｍａｒｒｉａｇｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｈｉｍ. Ｃｙｎｔｈｉａ               Ｍａｒｒｏｎ,               ｔｈｅ               ｄａｕｇｈｔｅｒ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｆａｒｍｅｒ,               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｓｃｈｏｌａｒｓｈｉｐ               ｓｔｕｄｅｎｔ               ａｔ               Ｏｃｅａｎ               Ｂｌｕｆｆ               Ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ. Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               Ｓｈｉｐｐｉｎｇ               ｇｒａｎｔｅｄ               ｔｕｉｔｉｏｎ               ｐａｙｍｅｎｔｓ               ｔｏ               ａｎｙ               ｓｔｕｄｅｎｔ               ｗｈｏ               ｓｈｏｗｅｄ               ａｃａｄｅｍｉｃ               ｐｒｏｍｉｓｅ,               ｒｅｇａｒｄｌｅｓｓ               ｏｆ               ｂａｃｋｇｒｏｕｎｄ.                Ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               Ａｒｔｈｕｒ               ｕｎｓｕｃｃｅｓｓｆｕｌｌｙ               ｐｌｅａｄｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｈｉｓ               ｐａｒｅｎｔｓ               ｔｏ               ａｃｃｅｐｔ               Ｃｙｎｔｈｉａ               ａｓ               ｈｉｓ               ｔｒｕｅ               ｌｏｖｅ. Ａｎｄ,               Ｃｙｎｔｈｉａ'ｓ               ｆａｔｈｅｒ,               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｈｅ               ｒｅｃｏｇｎｉｚｅｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｄａｕｇｈｔｅｒ'ｓ               ｄｉｌｅｍｍａ,               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｓｈｅ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄ               ｍａｒｒｙ               ｉｎｓｉｄｅ               ｈｅｒ               ｏｗｎ               ｃｏｍｍｕｎｉｔｙ. Ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               ｔｈｅ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｃｏｕｐｌｅ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｌｉｖｅ               ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ｅａｃｈ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏｌｖｅｄ               ｂｏｔｈ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｎｅｅｄｓ               ｂｙ               ｌｅａｐｉｎｇ               ｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｄ               ｄａｒｋ               ｗａｔｅｒｓ               ｏｆ               Ｄｅｅｐ               Ｂｏｔｔｏｍ               Ｉｎｌｅｔ. Ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｂｏｄｉｅｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｒｅｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｂｕｔ,               ａｐｐａｒｅｎｔｌｙ,               Ａｒｔｈｕｒ               ａｎｄ               Ｃｙｎｔｈｉａ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ               ｉｎ               ｅｔｅｒｎｉｔｙ. Ｔｈｅ               ｐｌａｑｕｅ               ｍｏｕｎｔｅｄ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｓｔｏｎｅ               ｐｉｌｌａｒ,               ｅｒｅｃｔｅｄ               ｎｅａｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｉｔｅ,               ｍａｒｋｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘａｃｔ               ｓｐｏｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｕｂｌｅ               ｓｕｉｃｉｄｅ. Ａｓ               Ｉ               ｄｒｏｖｅ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               ａｄｍｉｎｉｓｔｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ,               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄｎ'ｔ               ｈｅｌｐ               ｂｕｔ               ｗｏｎｄｅｒ               ｈｏｗ               ｔｗｏ               ｖｉｂｒａｎｔ               ｙｏｕｎｇｓｔｅｒｓ               ｃｏｕｌｄｎ'ｔ               ｆｉｎｄ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｗａｙ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ. Ａｆｔｅｒ               ｌｏｃａｔｉｎｇ               Ｄｅａｎ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ'ｓ               Ｏｆｆｉｃｅ,               Ｉ               ｅｎｔｅｒｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｃｅｐｔｉｏｎ               ａｒｅａ               ａｎｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｓｅｃｒｅｔａｒｙ,               Ｍｒｓ. Ｆｉｎｅ,               ａｎ               ａｔｔｒａｃｔｉｖｅ               ｍｉｄｄｌｅ               ａｇｅｄ               ｗｏｍａｎ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｕｐ. Ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｐｐｒｏｐｒｉａｔｅｌｙ               ｄｒｅｓｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｄａｒｋ               ｇｒｅｅｎ               ｋｎｅｅ-ｌｅｎｇｔｈ               ｓｋｉｒｔ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｗｈｉｔｅ               ｂｌｏｕｓｅ               ｄｅｃｏｒａｔｅｄ,               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｌａｒ,               ｂｙ               ａｎ               ｉｖｏｒｙ               ｃａｍｅｏ. Ｍｒｓ. Ｆｉｎｅ               ｅｘｅｍｐｌｉｆｉｅｄ               ａ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ａｔｔｅｎｄｅｄ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｙｏｕｎｇｅｒ               ｄａｙｓ. Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｐｌｅａｓａｎｔ               ｃｈａｎｇｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔａｔｔｏｏｓ               ａｎｄ               ｎｏｓｅ               ｒｉｎｇｓ. Ｈｅｒ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄｅｒ               ｌｅｎｇｔｈ               ａｕｂｕｒｎ               ｈａｉｒ               ｗａｓ               ｎｅａｔｌｙ               ｃｏｉｆｆｅｄ,               ｎｏｔ               ａ               ｈａｉｒ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｐｌａｃｅ. Ｓｈｅ               ｇｒｅｅｔｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｃｏｒｄｉａｌｌｙ."Ｍａｙ               Ｉ               ｈｅｌｐ               ｙｏｕ?"                "Ｈｅｌｌｏ,               Ｉ'ｍ               Ｄａｎ               Ｆａｒｒｏ. Ｉ'ｍ               ｈｅｒｅ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅ               Ｄｅａｎ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ."                Ｍｒｓ. Ｆｉｎｅ               ｓｍｉｌｅｄ               ａｇａｉｎ. Ｔｈｅ               Ｓｈｅｒｉｆｆ               ａｎｄ               Ｊａｃｋｓｏｎ               Ｃａｌｌｏｗａｙ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｓａｉｄ               ｙｏｕ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ｃｏｍｉｎｇ               ｔｈｉｓ               ａｆｔｅｒｎｏｏｎ. "Ｐｌｅａｓｅ,               ｗａｉｔ               ｈｅｒｅ."Ｍｒｓ. Ｆｉｎｅ               ｍｏｖｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｅａｎ'ｓ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｓｔｕｃｋ               ｈｅｒ               ｈｅａｄ               ｉｎｓｉｄｅ,               ｔｈｅｎ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ,               "Ｍｒ. Ｆａｒｒｏ,               ｙｏｕ               ｃａｎ               ｇｏ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｉｎ."                Ｄｅａｎ               Ｃｈｅｓｔｅｒ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｍｅｔ               ｍｅ               ｈａｌｆｗａｙ               ｔｏ               ｈｉｓ               ｄｅｓｋ               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｏｏｋ               ｍｙ               ｈａｎｄ               ｗａｒｍｌｙ. Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｗａｓ               ｔａｌｌ,               ｏｖｅｒ               ｓｉｘ               ｆｏｏｔ               ｆｉｖｅ,               ａｔｈｌｅｔｉｃ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｉｌｖｅｒ               ｇｒｅｙ               ｈａｉｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍａｎｙ               ｃｏｒｐｏｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｐｒｅｓｉｄｅｎｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｇｏｖｅｒｎｍｅｎｔ               ｄｉｐｌｏｍａｔｓ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｈａｖｅ. Ｈｅ               ｗｏｒｅ               ａ               ｌｉｇｈｔ               ｂｌｕｅ               ｓｈｉｒｔ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｄａｒｋ               ｒｅｄ               ｔｉｅ               ｄｅｃｏｒａｔｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｌｉｇｈｔ               ｂｌｕｅ               ｄｉａｇｏｎａｌ               ｓｔｒｉｐｅｓ. "Ｐｌｅａｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｅｅｔ               ｙｏｕ,               Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ               Ｆａｒｒｏ."               Ｓｈｅｒｉｆｆ               Ｔｈｏｍｓｏｎ               ｔｅｌｌｓ               ｍｅ               ｙｏｕ'ｒｅ               ｈａｎｄｌｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               Ｔｙｓｏｎ               ｉｎｖｅｓｔｉｇａｔｉｏｎ,               ｗｈａｔ               ａ               ｓｈａｍｅ. Ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｓｏ               ｙｏｕｎｇ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｂｅｃａｍｅ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｓｏｍｂｅｒ.                Ｉ               ｎｏｄｄｅｄ. "Ｔｈｅ               ｄｅａｔｈ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ               ｉｓ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｓａｄ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｓｅｅｍｓ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｎｏ               ｒｅａｓｏｎ               ｆｏｒ               ｉｔ. Ｊｕｓｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｂａｃｋｇｒｏｕｎｄ,               Ｄｅａｎ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ. Ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｕｄｅｎｔ               ｐｏｐｕｌａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               Ｏｃｅａｎ               Ｂｌｕｆｆ? Ａｎｄ,               ｗｈａｔ               ｄｏ               ｙｏｕ               ｔｅａｃｈ               ｈｅｒｅ?"                "Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｒｅ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｆｉｖｅ               ｈｕｎｄｒｅｄ               ｓｔｕｄｅｎｔｓ,               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｈａｌｆ               ａｒｅ               ｆｅｍａｌｅ. Ｔｈｅ               ｃｕｒｒｉｃｕｌａ               ｉｎｃｌｕｄｅｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｕｄｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｃｅａｎｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｍｐａｃｔ               ｏｆ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｂｏｄｉｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｗａｔｅｒ,               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｌａｎｅｔ               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ａｒｃｈｅｏｌｏｇｉｃａｌ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ               ｏｆ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅｓ               ｗｈｏ               ｌｉｖｅ               ｎｅａｒ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｏｃｅａｎｓ."                "Ｔｈｅ               ｃａｍｐｕｓ               ｓｅｅｍｓ               ｄｅｓｅｒｔｅｄ. Ｉ               ｒｅａｌｉｚｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｂｕｓｉｎｅｓｓｅｓ               ｓｌｏｗ               ｄｏｗｎ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｅｅｋ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｔｈｅ               Ｔ-Ｇ-Ｉ-Ｆ               ｓｙｎｄｒｏｍｅ               ａｐｐｌｉｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｃａｍｐｕｓｅｓ,               ｔｏｏ."                Ｄｒ. Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｍｉｌｅｄ. "Ｙｅｓ,               ｗｅ               ｒｅａｌｌｙ               ｔａｐｅｒ               ｏｆｆ               ｏｎ               Ｆｒｉｄａｙｓ               ａｎｄ               ｏｕｒ               ｓｔａｆｆ               ｌｅａｖｅｓ               ｅａｒｌｙ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｅｅｋｅｎｄ,               ｔｏｏ."                Ｔｈｏｍｓｏｎ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｄｅａｎ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｃｈｕｍ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｌａｔｅ               Ｃｙｒｕｓ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｄ               ａｌｓｏ               ａｃｃｏｍｐａｎｉｅｄ               ｈｉｍ               ｏｎ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               Ａｓｉａｎ               ｅｘｐｅｄｉｔｉｏｎｓ. Ｈｉｓ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ               ｗａｓ               ｎｅａｔｌｙ               ｆｕｒｎｉｓｈｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｄｅｓｋ               ｔｏｐ               ｗａｓ               ｃｏｍｐｌｅｔｅｌｙ               ｅｍｐｔｙ               ｅｘｃｅｐｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｈｉｓ               ｎａｍｅｐｌａｔｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｐｅｎ               ｈｏｌｄｅｒ,               ａ               ｃａｌｌ               ｄｉｒｅｃｔｏｒ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｄｅｓｋ               ｂｌｏｔｔｅｒ. Ａｓ               ａ               ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｔａｕｇｈｔ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｏｂｓｅｒｖａｎｔ. Ａ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ'ｓ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌｉｔｙ               ａｎｄ               ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ               ａｒｅ               ｕｓｕａｌｌｙ               ｒｅｆｌｅｃｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｈｉｓ               ｓｕｒｒｏｕｎｄｉｎｇｓ               ａｃｃｏｒｄｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ               Ｆｒａｎｋ               Ｒａｎｄａｌｌ,               ｍｙ               Ｍｅｎｔｏｒ.                Ａｓ               ａ               Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ,               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ａｂｏｕｔ               Ｃｙ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ'ｓ               ｄｉｓａｐｐｅａｒａｎｃｅ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｃｕｒｉｏｕｓ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｗｈａｔ               ｈａｐｐｅｎｅｄ. "Ｉ               ｕｎｄｅｒｓｔａｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｙｏｕ               ａｎｄ               Ｃｙｒｕｓ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｇｏｏｄ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ. Ｈｏｗ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｈａｖｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ｈｉｍ?"                "Ａｃｔｕａｌｌｙ,               Ｃｙｒｕｓ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｍｅｔ               ａｓ               Ｆｒｅｓｈｍｅｎ               ｉｎ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｇｏｔ               ｔｏ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｅａｃｈ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｗｅｌｌ. Ｗｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｉｎｓｅｐａｒａｂｌｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｃｌａｓｓｅｓ               ｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ. Ｉ               ｌｏｖｅｄ               ａｒｃｈｅｏｌｏｇｙ               ａｎｄ               Ｃｙ               ｄｉｄ,               ａｌｓｏ. Ｂｏｙ,               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｔｅｌｌ               ｙｏｕ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｉｎｇ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｃｏｅｄ               ｓｔｏｒｉｅｓ               ａｂｏｕｔ               Ｃｙ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｌａｕｇｈｅｄ. "Ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｐｒｏｍｉｓｅｄ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｔｅｌｌ."                Ｉ               ｌａｕｇｈｅｄ. "Ｉ'ｍ               ｓｕｒｅ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｉｎｇ               ｓｔｏｒｉｅｓ               ｂｕｔ               ｔｅｌｌ               ｍｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｎ,               Ｃｙ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ."               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｔｒｙｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｇｅｔ               ａ               ｆｅｅｌ               ｆｏｒ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               Ｉ               ａｓｋｅｄ               ａｂｏｕｔ               Ｔｙｓｏｎ.                "Ｙｏｕ               ｋｎｏｗ,               Ｃｙ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ａｔ               ｅｖｅｒｙｔｈｉｎｇ. Ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｔｒｅｍｅｎｄｏｕｓ               ｃｏｍｐｅｔｉｔｏｒ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｈａｖｅ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｅｄ               ｈｉｍ               ａｎｙｗｈｅｒｅ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ'ｓ               ｅｙｅｓ               ｇｌｉｓｔｅｎｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｅａｒｓ               ａｓ               ｈｅ               ｒｅｆｌｅｃｔｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｈｉｓ               ｍｉｓｓｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｐｒｅｓｕｍｅｄ               ｄｅａｄ,               ｆｒｉｅｎｄ. "Ｗｈｅｗ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｏｕｔ               ｈｉｓ               ｈａｎｄｋｅｒｃｈｉｅｆ               ａｎｄ               ｄａｂｂｅｄ               ａｔ               ｈｉｓ               ｅｙｅｓ. "               Ｙｏｕ'ｄ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｗｏ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｅａｓｅ               ｍｙ               ｇｒｉｅｆ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｉｇｈｅｄ               ａｓ               ｈｅ               ｐｏｉｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅｓ               ｏｎ               ｈｉｓ               ｃｒｅｄｅｎｚａ. Ｏｎｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｄｕｐｌｉｃａｔｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｓｅｅｎ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｏｕｓｅ. Ｉ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｃｌｏｓｅｒ               ｌｏｏｋ.                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｅｄ. "Ｃｙ               ｉｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｄｄｌｅ."                Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｅａｓｙ               ｔｏ               ｐｉｃｋ               ｏｕｔ               Ｃｙｒｕｓ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ. Ｈｉｓ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｆｒａｍｅｄ               ｂｏｄｙ,               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｃｒｏｐｐｅｄ               ｗｈｉｔｉｓｈ               ｈａｉｒ               ａｎｄ               ｂｒｏａｄ               ｓｍｉｌｅ               ｄｏｍｉｎａｔｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ. Ｉｎ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｐｈｏｔｏｓ,               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｗａｓ               ｈｏｌｄｉｎｇ               ａ               ｍａｇｎｕｍ               ｃｉｇａｒ               ｉｎ               ｏｎｅ               ｈａｎｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｂｏｔｔｌｅ               ｏｆ               ｂｅｅｒ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｓｍｉｌｉｎｇ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｗａｌｌｏｗｅｄ               ａ               ｃａｎａｒｙ. Ｉｎ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｍｅｒａ               ｈａｄ               ｐｉｃｋｅｄ               ｕｐ               ａ               ｗｉｓｐ               ｏｆ               ｃｉｇａｒ               ｓｍｏｋｅ               ａｓ               ｉｔ               ｃｕｒｌｅｄ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｈｅａｄ               ｊｕｓｔ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｔａｋｅｎ. Ｉｔ               ｍａｄｅ               ｈｉｍ               ｌｏｏｋ               ｓｉｎｉｓｔｅｒ. Ｔｈｅ               ｄａｔｅ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ａｇｏ.                "Ｄｉｄ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｆｉｎｄ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ'ｓ               ｂｏａｔ?"                "Ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｅｒｎ               ｓｅｃｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｕｌｃｉｎｅａ               ｄｒｉｆｔｅｄ               ｓｏｕｔｈｗｅｓｔ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               Ｊａｎｅ'ｓ               Ｉｓｌａｎｄ. Ｔｈｅｙ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓｈｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｓａｎｄ               ｂａｒ. Ｈｏｗ               ｉｔ               ｇｏｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｆａｒ               ｓｏｕｔｈ               ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ｂｅ               ｓｐｏｔｔｅｄ               ｉｓ               ａｎｙｂｏｄｙ'ｓ               ｇｕｅｓｓ.                "Ｔｈａｔ               ｆａｒ               ｓｏｕｔｈ? Ｈｏｗ               ｆａｒ               ｉｓ               ｔｈａｔ?                "Ｉ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｗｈａｔ               ｅｖｅｒｙｏｎｅ               ｅｌｓｅ               ｋｎｏｗｓ. Ｈｅ               ｗａｓｎ'ｔ               ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｏｎ               Ｇｒｉｅｆ               Ｂａｙ               ｔｈａｔ               ｎｉｇｈｔ."                Ｇｒｉｅｆ               Ｂａｙ? Ｈｏｗ               ａｐｐｒｏｐｒｉａｔｅ. "Ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｅｒｎ               ｓｅｃｔｉｏｎ?"                "Ｓｕｎｋ! Ｔｈｅ               ｓｉｇｈｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｈａｔｔｅｒｅｄ               ｂｏａｔ               ｓｏ               ｕｐｓｅｔ               Ｃａｒｏｌｉｎｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｆｒａｎｋｌｉｎ               ｈａｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｕｌｋ               ｔｏｗｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｏ               ｄｅｅｐ               ｗａｔｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｓｕｎｋ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｏａｓｔ               Ｇｕａｒｄ               Ｉｎｑｕｉｒｙ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓａｔ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｉｎｄｏｗ               ｓｅａｔ               ａｎｄ               ｓｔａｒｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｓｐａｃｅ.                Ｉ               ａｌｍｏｓｔ               ｈａｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｒｅａｋ               ｈｉｓ               ｒｅｖｅｒｉｅ. "Ｄｉｄ               ｙｏｕ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｊｏｅ               Ｔｙｓｏｎ               ｗｏｒｋｅｄ               ｈｅｒｅ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｐａｒｔ               ｔｉｍｅ?"               Ｔｙｓｏｎ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒ               ｔｅｃｈ               ｗｈｏ               ｗｏｒｋｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ. Ｂｕｔ,               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｓｅｅｍ               ｔｏ               ｈｅａｒ               ｍｅ. "Ｄｅａｎ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ,               ｍａｙ               Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ａ               ｌｏｏｋ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ?"               Ｍｙ               ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎ               ａｗａｋｅｎｅｄ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｈｉｓ               ｄａｙｄｒｅａｍ.                "Ｏｈ! Ｏｆ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｗｈｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ?"                "Ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｐｕｔｉｅｓ               ｓｅａｒｃｈｅｄ               Ｔｙｓｏｎ'ｓ               ｄｏｒｍ               ｒｏｏｍ               ａｎｄ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ａ               ｐａｙ               ｓｔｕｂ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ. Ｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ａ               ｐａｒｔ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｊｏｂ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ,               ｒｉｇｈｔ? Ｉｔ'ｓ               ａｓ               ｇｏｏｄ               ａ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ａｓ               ａｎｙ               ｔｏ               ｓｔａｒｔ               ａｓ               ａｎｙ."                "Ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ｒｉｇｈｔ,               ｔｈｉｓ               ｍｏｒｎｉｎｇ               Ｍｒｓ. Ｆｉｎｅ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｅ               ｅｍｐｌｏｙｅｄ               Ｍｒ. Ｔｙｓｏｎ. Ｃｅｒｔａｉｎｌｙ,               Ｉ'ｌｌ               ｔａｋｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｔｈｅｒｅ,               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｍｏｖｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｈｉｓ               ｄｅｓｋ               ａｎｄ               ｒｅａｃｈｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｔｅｒｃｏｍ. "Ｍｒｓ. Ｆｉｎｅ,               ｐｌｅａｓｅ               ｇｅｔ               ｍｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｋｅｙ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ."               Ｈｅ               ｇｒａｂｂｅｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｓｕｉｔ               ｊａｃｋｅｔ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｕｔｅｒ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔａｋｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｏｎｉｃ               ｋｅｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｍｒｓ. Ｆｉｎｅ,               ｈｅ               ｌｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｏｕｔｓｉｄｅ               ａｌｏｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒｅｅ               ｌｉｎｅｄ               ｗａｌｋｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ａｄｍｉｎｉｓｔｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｎｏｒｔｈ               ｓｉｄｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｍｐｕｓ.                Ａｓ               ｗｅ               ｎｅａｒｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ,               Ｉ               ｎｏｔｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｓｉｇｎ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ               ｓｔｏｏｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒａｄｉｔｉｏｎａｌ               ｉｖｙ               ｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｂｒｉｃｋ               ｓｔｒｕｃｔｕｒｅｓ. Ｃｏｎｓｔｒｕｃｔｅｄ               ｏｆ               ｃａｓｔ               ｃｏｎｃｒｅｔｅ,               ｇｌａｓｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｔｅｅｌ,               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｓａｔ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｋｎｏｌｌ               ｏｖｅｒｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ａｎ               ｏｖａｌ               ｓｈａｐｅｄ               ｐｏｎｄ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｅｘｔｅｎｄｅｄ               ｅａｓｔ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｄｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｌｉｆｆ. Ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ               ｒｅｍｉｎｄｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｉｒ               ａｎｄ               Ｓｐａｃｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｉｎ               Ｄ.Ｃ. Ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               Ｏｃｅａｎ               Ｂｌｕｆｆ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇｓ               ｍａｔｃｈｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｍｉｔｈｓｏｎｉａｎ               Ｉｎｓｔｉｔｕｔｅ. Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｃｕｒｉｏｕｓ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｓｔｒｕｃｔｕｒｅ'ｓ               ｄｅｐａｒｔｕｒｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｌａｓｓｉｃ               Ｉｖｙ               Ｌｅａｇｕｅ               ｌｏｏｋ.                Ａｓ               ｗｅ               ｃｌｉｍｂｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｏｎｅ               ｓｔｅｐｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｓｓｉｖｅ               ｏａｋ               ｆｒｏｎｔ               ｄｏｏｒｓ,               Ｉ               ｎｏｔｉｃｅｄ               ａ               ｂｒｏｎｚｅ               ｐｌａｑｕｅ               ｅｎｇｒａｖｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｕｎｄｅｒｓｔａｔｅｄ               ｓｍａｌｌ               ｂｌｏｃｋ               ｌｅｔｔｅｒｓ. "ＩＮ               ＭＥＭＯＲＹ               ＯＦ               "ＫＡＴＨＥＲＩＮＥ". Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏ               ｌａｓｔ               ｎａｍｅ,               ｊｕｓｔ               "ＫＡＴＨＥＲＩＮＥ".                "Ｔｈｉｓ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ               ｉｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒｓ. Ｉ               ｍｅａｎ,               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｓｉｇｎ               ａｎｄ               ａｒｃｈｉｔｅｃｔｕｒｅ               ａｒｅ               ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｄｉｆｆｅｒｅｎｔ?"                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｉｇｈｅｄ. "Ｙｅｓ,               ｉｔ               ｉｓ               ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｄｉｆｆｅｒｅｎｔ. Ｌｉｋｅ               Ｋａｔｈｅｒｉｎｅ."                "Ｗｈｏ               ｗａｓ               ｓｈｅ? Ｉ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               Ｃｙｒｕｓ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ'ｓ               ｗｉｆｅ'ｓ               ｎａｍｅ               ｗａｓ               Ａｂｉｇａｉｌ?"                "Ｙｅｓ,               Ｃｙｒｕｓ               ｍａｒｒｉｅｄ               Ａｂｉｇａｉｌ               Ｆｉｔｃｈ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｗｅｎｔｙ               ｆｉｖｅ,               ｎｏ               ｔｗｅｎｔｙ               ｓｉｘ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ａｇｏ. Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｄｉｖｏｒｃｅｄ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ               ｂｕｉｌｔ."                               Ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｗｏｒｄ,               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｃｌｉｍｂｅｄ               ｑｕｉｃｋｌｙ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｍａｉｎｉｎｇ               ｓｔｅｐｓ               ｆａｓｔｅｒ               ｔｈａｎ               Ｉ               ｅｘｐｅｃｔｅｄ               ａ               ｍａｎ               ｏｆ               ｈｉｓ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｃｏｕｌｄ. Ｈｅ               ｉｎｓｅｒｔｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｏｎｉｃ               ｋｅｙ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒ               ｊａｍｂｓ               ａｎｄ               ｍｏｖｅｄ               ｔｏ               ａｎ               ａｌａｒｍ               ｐａｎｅｌ               ｔｏ               ｈｉｓ               ｒｉｇｈｔ. Ｓｈａｄｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｔｔｏｎｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｍｙ               ｓｉｇｈｔ,               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｐｕｎｃｈｅｄ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｓｅｑｕｅｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｎｕｍｂｅｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｄ               ｌｉｇｈｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｎｅｌ               ｓｗｉｔｃｈｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｇｒｅｅｎ.                Ｈｅ               ｒｅｍｏｖｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｅｙ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ａｕｄｉｂｌｅ               ｃｌｕｎｋｉｎｇ               ｎｏｉｓｅｓ               ａｓ               ｄｅａｄ               ｂｏｌｔｓ               ｓｌｉｄ               ｂａｃｋ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｃｒａｄｌｅｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏｐ               ａｎｄ               ｂｏｔｔｏｍ               ｏｆ               ｅａｃｈ               ｄｏｏｒ. Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ｇｅｎｔｌｙ               ｐｕｓｈｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｄｏｏｒ               ｉｎｗａｒｄ. Ｔｈｅ               ｃａｎｔｉｌｅｖｅｒｅｄ               ｕｎｉｔ               ｓｗｕｎｇ               ｏｐｅｎ               ａｓ               ｅａｓｉｌｙ;               ａｓ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｉｔ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｗｅｉｇｈ               ｉｎ               ｅｘｃｅｓｓ               ｏｆ               ｆｉｖｅ               ｈｕｎｄｒｅｄ               ｐｏｕｎｄｓ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｔ               ｄｉｄ.                Ｐｕｓｈｉｎｇ               ｏｐｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｄｏｏｒ               ｊｕｓｔ               ａｓ               ｅａｓｉｌｙ,               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｅｎｔｅｒｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ａｎｄ               ｓｔｏｐｐｅｄ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｉｎｓｉｄｅ               ａｎｄ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｕｐ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｓｔｅｅｌ               ｓｐｉｎｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｇｌａｓｓ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｆｏｒｍｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｅｉｌｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｒｏｕｎｄ               ａｎｄ               ｖａｕｌｔｅｄ               ｖｅｓｔｉｂｕｌｅ. Ｈｅ               ｓｐｒｅａｄ               ｈｉｓ               ａｒｍｓ               ｗｉｄｅ,               ｔｈｅａｔｒｉｃａｌｌｙ. "Ｍｒ. Ｆａｒｒｏ,               ｂｅｈｏｌｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｌｅｇａｃｙ."                Ｂｅｙｏｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｓｓｉｖｅ               ｄｏｏｒｓ,               ｌａｙ               ａ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｃｉｒｃｕｌａｒ               ｖｅｓｔｉｂｕｌｅ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｏｎｅ               ｈｕｎｄｒｅｄ               ｆｅｅｔ               ｉｎ               ｄｉａｍｅｔｅｒ. Ｉ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｈｉｔｅ               ｍａｒｂｌｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｌｏｏｒ. "Ｔｈｉｓ               ｍａｒｂｌｅ               ｌｏｏｋｓ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｕｐｒｅｍｅ               Ｃｏｕｒｔ               Ｓｔｅｐｓ."               Ｉ               ｑｕｉｐｐｅｄ.                "Ｊｕｓｔ               ｓｏ. "Ｃｙｒｕｓ,               Ｓｅｎｉｏｒ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｓｉｇｎｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｕｐｒｅｍｅ               Ｃｏｕｒｔ               Ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｗｅｌｌ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｄｅｄ. "Ｉｎ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｍａｒｂｌｅ               ｗａｓ               ｉｍｐｏｒｔｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｓａｍｅ               ｑｕａｒｒｙ               ａｓ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               Ｓｕｐｒｅｍｅ               Ｃｏｕｒｔ               ｓｔｅｐｓ. Ｃｙ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ａ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ               ｗａｒｅｈｏｕｓｅ               ｆｕｌｌ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｓｔｏｎｅ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｈｉｓ               ｆａｔｈｅｒ               ｄｉｅｄ."                Ｉ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｎ               ｌｉｔ               ｆｌｏｏｒ               ａｎｄ               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｄａｒｋ               ｇｒｅｙ               ａｎｄ               ｂｌａｃｋ               ｖｅｉｎｓ               ａｐｐｅａｒｉｎｇ               ｄｅｅｐ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｏｎｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｏｖｅｒｗｈｅｌｍｉｎｇ               ｃｏｌｏｒ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｂｒｉｌｌｉａｎｔ               ｗｈｉｔｅ. Ｔｈｅ               Ｄｅａｎ               ｏｆ               Ｏｃｅａｎ               Ｂｌｕｆｆ               Ｃｏｌｌｅｇｅ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｉｎｖｉｇｏｒａｔｅｄ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｂｙ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｅｎｔｒｙ               ｈａｌｌ               ａｓ               ｈｅ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒｓ. Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｓｌｏｗｌｙ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｅｎｔｅｒｐｉｅｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｏｙｅｒ.                Ｔｈｅｒｅ,               ｃａｐｔｕｒｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｂｒｏｎｚｅ               ｆｏｒ               ａｌｌ               ｅｔｅｒｎｉｔｙ,               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｔｗｅｌｖｅ               ｆｏｏｔ               ｓｔａｔｕｅ               ｏｆ               Ｊａｃｋ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ,               ｓｉｒｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               Ｄｙｎａｓｔｙ,               ｄｒｅｓｓｅｄ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｓｈｉｐ               ｍａｓｔｅｒ'ｓ               ｕｎｉｆｏｒｍ,               ｇｒａｓｐｉｎｇ               ａ               ｓｈｉｐ'ｓ               ｗｏｏｄｅｎ               ｓｔｅｅｒｉｎｇ               ｗｈｅｅｌ               ｉｎ               ｏｎｅ               ｈａｎｄ               ａｎｄ. ａ               ｓｅｘｔａｎｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ. Ｗｉｔｈ               ｈｉｓ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｂｒｏｎｚｅ               ｈａｉｒ,               ｆｏｒｅｖｅｒ               ｓｗｅｐｔ               ｂａｃｋ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｓｔｒｏｎｇ               ｓｅａ               ｂｒｅｅｚｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄｅｒ               ｏｆ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               Ｓｈｉｐｐｉｎｇ               ｓｔｏｏｄ               ａｔｏｐ               ａ               ｆｌａｔｔｅｎｅｄ               ｍａｐ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ               ｍｏｕｎｔｅｄ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｃｉｒｃｕｌａｒ               ｐｌａｔｆｏｒｍ               ｏｆ               ｌｉｇｈｔ               ｇｒｅｙ               ｇｒａｎｉｔｅ.                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｗａｓ               ｇａｚｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ａｗｅ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔａｔｕｅ;               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｇｅｔ               ｈｉｍ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｅｓｅｎｔ. "Ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｄｉｄ               Ｔｙｓｏｎ               ｗｏｒｋ?"                "Ｏｈ,               ｙｅｓ,               Ｍｒ. Ｔｙｓｏｎ               ｗｏｒｋｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒｓ. Ｈｅ               ｄｉｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｅｃｈｎｉｃａｌ               ｗｏｒｋ."                "Ｃａｎ               ｙｏｕ               ｓｈｏｗ               ｍｅ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｃｅｎｔｅｒ?"                "Ｙｅｓ,               Ｉ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｂｅｒｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｔａｋｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｅｙｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈａｔ               ａｒｅａ,               ｔｏｏ. Ｆｒｅｄ               Ｂｅｒｎａｒｄ               ｉｓ               ｏｕｒ               Ｃｈｉｅｆ               ｏｆ               Ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ,               ｂｕｔ               ｈｅ               ｎｅｅｄｅｄ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｏｆｆ. Ｂｅｓｉｄｅｓ,               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｉｓ               ｃｌｏｓｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｒｅｎｏｖａｔｉｏｎ               ａｎｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏｕｒ               ｉｓ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｐａｃｋｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｒａｎｓｐｏｒｔ. Ｗｅ               ｒｅａｓｏｎｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ,               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ａｕｔｏｍａｔｅｄ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｏｎｉｃ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ,               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ｎｏ               ｎｅｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｈａｖｅ               ａｎｙｏｎｅ               ｏｎ               ｄｕｔｙ               ｔｏｄａｙ. Ｏｎ               Ｍｏｎｄａｙ,               ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｂｅ               ｃｒａｗｌｉｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｗｏｒｋｍｅｎ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ'ｖｅ               ｈｉｒｅｄ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｅｘｔｒａ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅｒｓ               ｔｏ               ｍｏｎｉｔｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ａｃｔｉｖｉｔｙ."                "Ｈｏｗ               ｂｉｇ               ｉｓ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ?"                "Ｔｈｅ               ｇｒｏｕｎｄｓ               ｃｏｖｅｒ               ｔｗｏ               ａｃｒｅｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｉｎｃｌｕｄｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｎｄ. Ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｉｔｓｅｌｆ               ｉｓ               ｔｈｉｒｔｙ               ｔｈｏｕｓａｎｄ               ｓｑｕａｒｅ               ｆｅｅｔ               ａｎｄ               ｉｓ               ｃｏｎｓｔｒｕｃｔｅｄ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｏｋｅｓ               ｏｆ               ａ               Ｃｈｉｎｅｓｅ               ｆａｎ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｍａｉｎ               ｅｎｔｒｙ               ｆｏｙｅｒ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｕｂ. Ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ               ｏｃｃｕｐｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｖｅ               ｓｐｏｋｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｒｅ               ｐａｒｋ               ａｒｅａｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｈａｄｙ               ｐａｔｈｓ               ｏｕｔｓｉｄｅ               ｂｅｔｗｅｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｏｋｅｓ."               Ｈｅ               ｐｏｉｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｕｉｄｅ               ｎｅａｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔａｔｕｅ. Ｉｔ               ｒｅｍｉｎｄｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｉｎ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｓｈｏｐｐｉｎｇ               ｍａｌｌｓ,               'Ｙｏｕ               ａｒｅ               ｈｅｒｅ'. Ｔｈｅ               ｖａｒｉｏｕｓ               ｓｐｏｋｅｓ               ｒｅｐｒｅｓｅｎｔｅｄ               ｄｉｆｆｅｒｅｎｔ               ａｒｅａｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ.                "Ｉ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｙｏｕ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｃｙ               ｏｎ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｈｉｓ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｙ               ｔｒｉｐｓ."                "Ｊｕｓｔ               ｔｗｏ,               ａｃｔｕａｌｌｙ. Ｏｎｅ               ｔｏ               Ｓｏｕｔｈｅａｓｔ               Ａｓｉａ               ａｎｄ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｔｏ               Ｓｏｕｔｈ               Ａｍｅｒｉｃａ. Ａｓ               Ｉ               ｓａｉｄ,               Ｉ               ａｍ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｅｄ               ｉｎ               Ａｒｃｈｅｏｌｏｇｙ."                Ｉ               ｓｈｒｕｇｇｅｄ. "Ｉ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｇｅｔ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ               ｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ. Ｔｈｅｙ               ｌｉｖｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｌｉｖｅ               ｈｅｒｅ               ａｎｄ..."               Ｉ               ｓｈｒｕｇｇｅｄ                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｗｉｎｃｅｄ               ｖｉｓｉｂｌｙ. "Ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ａ               ｐｉｔｙ. Ｔｈｅ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ               ｏｆ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅｓ               ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｆａｓｃｉｎａｔｉｎｇ. Ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｙｏｕ               ｌｉｋｅ               ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｔｏｕｒ,               ｆｉｒｓｔ?"                "Ｗｈｙ               ｎｏｔ? Ｍｙ               ｇｉｒｌｆｒｉｅｎｄ               ｗｉｌｌ               ａｓｋ               ｍｅ               ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｓａｗ."                "Ｗｅｌｌ,               ｔｈｅｎ               ｉｔ               ｗｏｎ'ｔ               ｍａｔｔｅｒ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅ               ｓｔａｒｔ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｍｉｒｋｅｄ.                Ｈｅ               ｃｈｏｓｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｖｅ               ｃｏｒｒｉｄｏｒｓ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｌｅｄ               ａｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ'ｓ               ｓｔａｔｕｅ. Ａｓ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｓｌｏｗｌｙ               ａｌｏｎｇ               ｈｅ               ｐｏｉｎｔｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｖａｒｉｏｕｓ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｐｒｉｍｉｔｉｖｅ               ｔｒｉｂｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｏｆｆｅｒｅｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｃｏｍｍｅｎｔａｒｙ. Ｈｅ               ｄｉｄ               ｍａｋｅ               ｉｔ               ｓｏｕｎｄ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｉｎｇ. "Ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ               ｃｏｎｔａｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｄｉｇｅｎｏｕｓ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｍａｚｏｎ               Ｒｅｇｉｏｎ               ｉｎ               Ｓｏｕｔｈ               Ａｍｅｒｉｃａ. Ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｍａｎａｋｉｎｓ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｐｌａｃｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｐｏｓｅｓ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｓｉｍｕｌａｔｅ               ｔｒａｃｋｉｎｇ               ａｎｉｍａｌｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｆｏｏｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃｅｎｔｒａｌ               ａｎｄ               Ｓｏｕｔｈ               Ａｍｅｒｉｃａｎ               ｊｕｎｇｌｅｓ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｔｏｐｐｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｐｏｉｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ. "Ｔｈｏｓｅ               ａｒｅ               ｅｘａｍｐｌｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｏｂｓｃｕｒｅ               ｔｒｉｂｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｕｐｐｅｒ               Ａｍａｚｏｎ. Ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｔｒｉｂｅｓ               ｈａｖｅ               ｓｕｒｖｉｖｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｏｕｓａｎｄｓ               ｏｆ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ａｎｙ               ｉｎｔｅｒｆｅｒｅｎｃｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｏｕｒ               ｍｏｄｅｒｎ               ｗｏｒｌｄ. Ｉ               ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｒｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｒｉｂｅｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｅ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｆｉｎｄ."                "Ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｓｎ'ｔ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｄｉｆｆｅｒｅｎｔ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               Ｊｅｆｆｅｒｓｏｎ               Ｃｉｔｙ               Ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｏｆ               Ｎａｔｕｒａｌ               Ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ."               Ｉ               ｏｆｆｅｒｅｄ.                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｔｏｐｐｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｈｉｓ               ｔｒａｃｋｓ. "Ｉ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ｙｏｕ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍｓ               ｏｒ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ."                Ｉ               ｓｈｒｕｇｇｅｄ,               ｒａｉｓｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｈａｎｄｓ               ｉｎ               ｓｕｒｒｅｎｄｅｒ. "Ｍｙ               ｇｉｒｌｆｒｉｅｎｄ               ｉｓ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｙｏｕ."                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｍｉｌｅｄ               ａ               ｋｎｏｗｉｎｇ               ｓｍｉｌｅ. "Ｗｏｍｅｎ               ｄｏ               ｃｏｎｔｒｏｌ               ｏｕｒ               ｗａｎｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｄｅｓｉｒｅｓ."                Ｉ               ｎｏｄｄｅｄ. "Ｓｈｅ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｖｉｓｉｔｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｉｎ               Ｊｏｈｎｓｏｎ               Ｃｉｔｙ               ｔｗｏ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ａｇｏ. Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｌｏｖｅｄ               ｉｔ;               ａｌｌ               Ｉ               ｓａｗ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｂｕｎｃｈ               ｏｆ               ｓｔｕｆｆｅｄ               ｄｕｍｍｉｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ａｎｉｍａｌｓ               ｐｒｏｐｐｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｕｒａｔｏｒ'ｓ               ｒｅｎｄｉｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｈｏｗ               ｔｈｅ               ｎａｔｉｖｅｓ               ｌｉｖｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｊｕｎｇｌｅ. Ｉ               ｐｒｅｆｅｒ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｍｏｄｅｒｎ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ               ａｎｄ               ｆｏｌｋｌｏｒｅ,               Ｂｕｔ,               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｓｐｅｎｄ               ｄａｙｓ               ｒｏａｍｉｎｇ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍｓ               ａｎｄ               ａｒｔ               ｇａｌｌｅｒｉｅｓ."                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｆｒｏｗｎｅｄ               ａｇａｉｎ               ｂｕｔ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ,               ｕｎｄａｕｎｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｍｙ               ａｐｐａｒｅｎｔ               ｌａｃｋ               ｏｆ               ｒｅｓｐｅｃｔ. "Ｉｎ               ｆａｃｔ,               ｍｏｓｔ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ               ａｒｅ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｓｉｍｉｌａｒ               ｔｏ               ｏｎｅ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ. Ｗｅ               ｆｒｅｑｕｅｎｔｌｙ               ｓｈｉｐ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍｓ."                Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｅｔａｌ               ｗｅａｐｏｎｓ,               ｈｏｐｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎｄ               ａ               ｗｅａｐｏｎ               ｓｉｍｉｌａｒ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｄａｇｇｅｒ. "Ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ,               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｐａｒｔ,               ｓｈｏｗ               ｓｔｏｎｅ               ｋｎｉｖｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ａｘｅｓ. Ｗｈｅｒｅ               ａｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｅｔａｌ               ｗｅａｐｏｎｓ?"                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｔｏｐｐｅｄ. "Ｏｈ,               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｄｉｓｐｌａｙｓ               ａｒｅ               ｉｎ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｓｅｃｔｉｏｎ. Ｆｏｌｌｏｗ               ｍｅ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｗａｙ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ａ               ｎｅａｒｂｙ               ｄｏｏｒｗａｙ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｓｈｏｒｔｃｕｔ               ｔｏ               ａｎ               ａｄｊａｃｅｎｔ               ｓｐｏｋｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ. Ａｓ               ｗｅ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ,               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｔｏｕｒ               ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ. "Ｔｈｅ               ｆａｒ               ｅａｓｔ               ｃｕｌｔｕｒｅｓ               ｕｓｅｄ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｍｅｔａｌ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｉｍｐｌｅｍｅｎｔｓ. Ｔｈｏｓｅ               ａｒｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｗｉｎｇ,               ｂｕｔ...."                "Ｂｕｔ?"                "Ｂｕｔ,               ｗｅ'ｒｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｃｅｓｓ               ｏｆ               ｐａｃｋｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ               ｆｏｒ               ａｎ               ｉｎｔｅｒｓｔａｔｅ               ｔｏｕｒ."                "Ｃａｎ               ｗｅ               ｌｏｏｋ               ａｎｙｗａｙ?"               Ｍａｙｂｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ｓｉｍｉｌａｒ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅ               Ｉ               ｆｏｕｎｄ. "Ｏｆ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｂｅ               ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｂａｒｅ               ｏｆ               ｄｉｓｐｌａｙｓ."               Ｉ               ｓｈｒｕｇｇｅｄ               ａｎｄ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｌｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｎｎｅｃｔｉｎｇ               ｔｕｎｎｅｌ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｓｉａｎ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ. Ｂｕｔ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｗｅ               ｇｏｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｗａｓ               ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｄｉｒｔｙ               ａｎｄ               ｔｏｓｓｅｄ               ａｂｏｕｔ. Ａｐｐａｒｅｎｔｌｙ,               ｗｏｒｋｅｒｓ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｂｕｓｉｌｙ               ｂｒｅａｋｉｎｇ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｃｏｎｓｔｒｕｃｔｉｎｇ               ｎｅｗ               ｗａｌｌｓ. Ｃｏｎｓｔｒｕｃｔｉｏｎ               ｄｕｓｔ               ａｎｄ               ｄｅｂｒｉｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｅｖｅｒｙｗｈｅｒｅ. Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｄｉｓｔｕｒｂｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｌｕｔｔｅｒ.                "Ｏｒｄｉｎａｒｉｌｙ,               ｗｅ'ｒｅ               ｎｏｔ               ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｓｏ               ｍｅｓｓｙ. Ｂｕｔ,               ｗｅ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｕｓｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｐｐｏｒｔｕｎｉｔｙ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｍｏｄｅｌ               ｔｈｉｓ               ａｒｅａ               ｗｈｉｌｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｏｎ               ｔｏｕｒ."                Ｉ               ｐｏｉｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｍａｉｎｉｎｇ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ. "Ｔｈａｔ               ｌｏｏｋｓ               ｌｉｋｅ               Ｉｎｄｉａ."                "Ｖｅｒｙ               ｃｌｏｓｅ. Ａｃｔｕａｌｌｙ,               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｄｉｓｐｌａｙｓ               ａｒｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｃｏｕｎｔｒｙ               ｉｎ               Ｓｏｕｔｈｅａｓｔ               Ａｓｉａ. Ｔｈａｔ               ｏｎｅ               ｍｉｒｒｏｒｅｄ               Ｉｎｄｉａ               ａｎｄ               Ｃｈｉｎａ. Ｔｏｄａｙ,               ｗｅ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｉｔ               ｔｏｄａｙ               ａｓ               Ｃａｍｂｏｄｉａ."                Ｏｆ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ,               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｏｆ               Ｃａｍｂｏｄｉａ. "Ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ｎｅａｒ               Ｖｉｅｔｎａｍ,               ｒｉｇｈｔ?"               Ｉ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ａｌｏｕｄ               "Ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｏｌｄ               ｐｏｌｉｃｅ               ｂｕｄｄｉｅｓ               ｄｉｅｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅ."               Ｒａｎｄａｌｌ               ｈａｄ               ｍａｎｙ               ｓｔｏｒｉｅｓ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｈｉｓ               ｔｏｕｒｓ               ｉｎ               Ｓｏｕｔｈｅａｓｔ               Ａｓｉａ.                Ｄｒ. Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｆｒｏｗｎｅｄ. "Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｒｅ               ｎｏ               ｐｏｌｉｔｉｃｓ               ｈｅｒｅ,               Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ               Ｆａｒｒｏ,               Ｉ               ｃａｎ               ａｓｓｕｒｅ               ｙｏｕ. Ｗｅ'ｒｅ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｅｄ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｍｐａｃｔ               ｏｆ               ｃｕｌｔｕｒｅ,               ｒｅｌｉｇｉｏｎ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅａｔｈｅｒ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｉｖｉｌｉｚａｔｉｏｎｓ."                Ｉ               ｉｎｔｅｒｒｕｐｔｅｄ               ｈｉｍ. "Ｈｏｗ               ｆａｒ               ｂａｃｋ               ｉｎ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ               ａｒｅ               ｗｅ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｈｅｒｅ?"                "Ｔｈｅ               ｔｗｅｌｆｔｈ               ｃｅｎｔｕｒｙ. Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ,               ｈａｖｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｏｆ               Ａｎｇｋｏｒ               Ｗａｔ?"                "Ｓｏｕｎｄｓ               ｆａｍｉｌｉａｒ,               ｂｕｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               Ｉ               ｓａｉｄ,               Ｉ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｆｏｒｅｉｇｎ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ."                "Ｉ               ｕｎｄｅｒｓｔａｎｄ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｓｔｏｒｙ               ｉｓ               ｔｈａｔ,               ｉｎ               Ａｎｇｋｏｒ               Ｗａｔ,               ｔｈｅ               ｅａｒｌｙ               Ｃａｍｂｏｄｉａｎｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｒｅｌｉｇｉｏｕｓ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ               ｗｈｏ               ｂｕｉｌｔ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｔｅｍｐｌｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｃｉｔｉｅｓ. Ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｐｉｅｃｅｓ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｈｅｒｅ,"               Ｈｅ               ｍｏｔｉｏｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｇｒｏｕｐ               ｏｆ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｅｗ               ｄｉｓｐｌａｙ               ｃａｓｅｓ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏｏｍ,               "ａｒｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｏｃ               Ｅｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｏｌｄｅｓｔ               ｈｕｍａｎ               ｓｅｔｔｌｅｍｅｎｔｓ               ｎｅａｒ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｏｕｔｈ               Ｃｈｉｎａ               Ｓｅａ."                Ｍｙ               ｐｕｚｚｌｅｄ               ｌｏｏｋ               ｍａｄｅ               ｔｈｅ               Ｄｅａｎ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅ. "Ｔｈｅ               ｅａｒｌｙ               Ｃａｍｂｏｄｉａｎｓ               ｂｕｉｌｔ               ａ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ               ｏｆ               ｃａｎａｌｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｓｔｒｅｅｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ａｃｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｔｒａｄｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｃｈｉｎａ,               Ｉｎｄｉａ               ａｎｄ,               ｅｖｅｎ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｎｃｉｅｎｔ               Ｒｏｍｅ."                "Ｒｏｍｅ,               Ｉｔａｌｙ?"               Ｉ               ｓａｉｄ               ｓｕｄｄｅｎｌｙ               ｒｅｃｏｇｎｉｚｉｎｇ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｃｏｕｎｔｒｙ               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ.                "Ｒｏｍｅ,               Ｉｔａｌｙ;               ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ｒｉｇｈｔ. Ｍａｙｂｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｊｕｌｉｕｓ               Ｃａｅｓａｒ               ｈｉｍｓｅｌｆ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｍｉｌｅｄ.                "Ｗｈａｔ               ｋｉｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｗｅａｐｏｎｓ               ｄｉｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｃａｍｂｏｄｉａｎｓ               ｕｓｅ?"                "Ｂｒｏｎｚｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔｉｎ               ｓｗｏｒｄｓ               ａｎｄ               ｋｎｉｖｅｓ               ｍｏｓｔｌｙ. Ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅｙ               ａｒｅ               ｎｏｔ               ｈｅｒｅ."                Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｃｏｎｆｕｓｅｄ. "Ｔｈｅｙ'ｒｅ               ａｌｌ               ｇｏｎｅ?"                "Ｎｏ,               ｍｏｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｔｅｍｓ               ａｒｅ               ｄｏｗｎｓｔａｉｒｓ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｐａｃｋｅｄ."                               "Ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｗｅ               ｔａｋｅ               ａ               ｌｏｏｋ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅｓ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｐａｃｋｅｄ?" Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｐａｕｓｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄ,               ｂｕｔ               ｓｈｏｏｋ               ｈｉｓ               ｈｅａｄ. "Ｃｅｒｔａｉｎｌｙ. Ｆｏｌｌｏｗ               ｍｅ."               Ｈｅ               ｕｎｌｏｃｋｅｄ               ａ               ｎｅａｒｂｙ               ｄｏｏｒ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｈａｄ               ａ               ｓｉｇｎ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｒｅａｄ               'Ｅｍｐｌｏｙｅｅｓ               Ｏｎｌｙ'               ａｎｄ               ｌｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｄｏｗｎ               ａ               ｆｌｉｇｈｔ               ｏｆ               ｓｔｅｐｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ'ｓ               ｌｏｗｅｒ               ｌｅｖｅｌ. Ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔａｉｒｗａｙ,               ｈｅ               ｐａｕｓｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ. "Ｏｕｒ               ｉｎｓｕｒａｎｃｅ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ               ｉｎｓｉｓｔｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ａｒｅａ               ｂｅ               ｓｅｃｕｒｅｄ               ａｔ               ａｌｌ               ｔｉｍｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｏｕｒ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍｓ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｍａｌｆｕｎｃｔｉｏｎｉｎｇ. Ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｒｅａｓｏｎ               ｗｈｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｉｓ               ｃｌｏｓｅｄ               ｔｏｄａｙ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｕｎｌｏｃｋｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｏｔｔｏｍ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔａｉｒｃａｓｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｒｅｇｕｌａｒ               ｍｅｔａｌ               ｋｅｙ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ｔｏｕｃｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｅｙｐａｄ. "Ａｓ               ｙｏｕ               ｃａｎ               ｓｅｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｉｌｄｉｎｇ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ               ｉｓｎ'ｔ               ｗｏｒｋｉｎｇ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｈｅｒｅ?"               Ｈｅ               ｗｈｉｓｐｅｒｅｄ. "Ｂｕｔ,               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｔｅｒｎａｌ               ｅｎｔｒａｎｃｅｓ               ａｒｅ               ｓｅｃｕｒｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｈｏｏｋｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ａ               ｃｅｎｔｒａｌ               ｍｏｎｉｔｏｒｉｎｇ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ. Ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｌｉｃｅ,               ｅｒ,               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｈｅｒｉｆｆ'ｓ               ｄｅｐｕｔｉｅｓ,"               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｎｉｃｋｅｒｅｄ. "Ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｈｅｒｅ               ｉｎ               ｌｅｓｓ               ｔｈａｎ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｍｉｎｕｔｅｓ."                Ｉ               ｍｕｓｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｍｉｓｓｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｕｍｏｒ               ｉｎ               ｗｈａｔ               ｈｅ               ｓａｉｄ. "Ｗｈａｔ'ｓ               ｓｏ               ｆｕｎｎｙ?"                "Ｉ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｒｅａｌｉｚｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｌｉｃｅ               ａｒｅ               ａｌｒｅａｄｙ               ｈｅｒｅ,               ａｒｅｎ'ｔ               ｙｏｕ,               ｔｈｅ               Ｐｏｌｉｃｅ?"               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｃｈｕｃｋｌｅｄ,               ａｇａｉｎ.                Ｉ               ｓｈｏｏｋ               ｍｙ               ｈｅａｄ               ａｎｄ               ｆｒｏｗｎｅｄ. Ｂｕｔ,               ｍｙ               ｃｏｐ'ｓ               ｃｕｒｉｏｓｉｔｙ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｐｉｎｇｉｎｇ               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓａｉｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｆｕｎｃｔｉｏｎｉｎｇ. Ａｎｄ,               Ｔｙｓｏｎ               ｗａｓ               ｗｏｒｋｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒｓ.                Ｔｈｅ               Ｄｅａｎ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ. "Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｉｎｔｅｒｍｉｔｔｅｎｔ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒ               ｐｒｏｇｒａｍｍｉｎｇ               ｇｌｉｔｃｈｅｓ;               ｔｈｅｙ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｗｅｅｋｓ               ａｇｏ."                "Ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ａ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｍａｌｆｕｎｃｔｉｏｎｉｎｇ."               Ｉ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ｏｕｔ               ｌｏｕｄ                "Ｉｔ'ｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｔｏｔａｌｌｙ               ｄｏｗｎ. Ｂｕｔ               ｗｅ               ａｒｅ               ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ａ               ｖａｒｉｅｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｓｍａｌｌｅｒ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ               ｂｒｅａｋｄｏｗｎｓ. Ｌａｓｔ               Ｔｕｅｓｄａｙ,               ｆｏｒ               ｉｎｓｔａｎｃｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｃｋｉｎｇ               ｒｏｏｍ               ａｌａｒｍｓ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｅｎｇａｇｅ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｗｅ               ｒｅｂｏｏｔｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ. Ｂｕｔ,               ｙｏｕ               ａｒｅ               ｒｉｇｈｔ. Ｉｔ               ｉｓ               ａ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｔｉｍｅ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｈａｖｅ               ａ               ｓｏｆｔｗａｒｅ               ｔｅａｍ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｎｕｆａｃｔｕｒｅｒ               ｃｏｍｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               Ｍｏｎｄａｙ,               ａｌｓｏ. Ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｔｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｏｒｋｓ               ｐｒｏｐｅｒｌｙ               ｉｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｅ               ａｌａｒｍ. Ｔｈｅｙ               ｓａｉｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅ'ｓ               ａｎ               ｉｓｓｕｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｇｒａｍ'ｓ               ｄｅｅｐ               ｌｏｇｉｃ,               ｗｈａｔｅｖｅｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｓ. Ｂｕｔ,               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｓａｉｄ,               ａｌｌ               ｅｘｔｅｒｎａｌ               ｄｏｏｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｆｉｅｌｄｓ               ａｒｅ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｗｏｒｋｉｎｇ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｏｕｎｄｅｄ               ｄｅｆｅｎｓｉｖｅ.                Ｗｅ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｆｕｒｔｈｅｒ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｒｒｉｄｏｒ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｄｏｏｒｓ               ｏｎｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｅｆｔ               ａｎｄ               ｔｗｏ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｉｇｈｔ. "Ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｄｏ               ｙｏｕ               ｕｓｕａｌｌｙ               ｓｔａｔｉｏｎ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅｒｓ?"                "Ｗｈｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｉｓ               ｏｐｅｎ,               ｏｎｌｙ               ａｕｔｈｏｒｉｚｅｄ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎｎｅｌ               ａｒｅ               ａｌｌｏｗｅｄ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｈｅｒｅ               ａｎｄ               ｕｓｕａｌｌｙ               ｗｅ               ｋｅｅｐ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅｒ               ｕｐｓｔａｉｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｈｅｒｅ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｃｋｅｒｓ               ａｒｅ               ｗｏｒｋｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｒｏｏｍ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｏｐｅｎｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒ               ｏｎ               ｏｕｒ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｃａｒｄ;               ｒｅａｃｈｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｓｗｉｔｃｈｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｇｈｔｓ.                Ｗｅ               ｅｎｔｅｒｅｄ               ａ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｒｏｏｍ;               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｄｏｚｅｎｓ               ｏｆ               ｓｔａｃｋｅｄ               ｗｏｏｄｅｎ               ｃｒａｔｅｓ               ｗｈｉｃｈ,               Ｉ               ａｓｓｕｍｅｄ,               ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｅｄ               ａｒｔ               ｔｒｅａｓｕｒｅｓ. Ｏｎ               ａ               ｗｏｒｋ               ｂｅｎｃｈ               ｄｉｒｅｃｔｌｙ               ａｃｒｏｓｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｏｒ,               Ｉ               ｎｏｔｉｃｅｄ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｗｏｏｄｅｎ               ｓｔａｔｕｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｗｏ               ｌｉｇｈｔ               ｇｒｅｅｎ               ｆａｔ               ｍｅｎ,               ｅａｃｈ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ａ               ｆｏｏｔ               ｔａｌｌ.                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｎｏｔｉｃｅｄ               ｍｙ               ｒｅａｃｔｉｏｎ. "Ｂｕｄｄｈａ               ｒｅｐｒｅｓｅｎｔａｔｉｏｎｓ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｏｆｆｅｒｅｄ. "Ｔｗｅｌｆｔｈ               ｃｅｎｔｕｒｙ               ｕｎｄｅｒ               Ｊａｙａｖａｒｍａｎ               ＶＩＩ. Ｊａｙａｖａｒｍａｎ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｌａｓｔ               ｇｒｅａｔ               ｋｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｎｇｋｏｒ. Ｈｅ               ｂｕｉｌｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｗ               ｃａｐｉｔａｌ               ｏｆ               Ａｎｇｋｏｒ               Ｔｈｏｍ,               ｎｏｒｔｈ               ｏｆ               Ａｎｇｋｏｒ               Ｗａｔ."                Ｉ               ｓｈｒｕｇｇｅｄ. "Ｉｆ               ｙｏｕ               ｓａｙ               ｓｏ."                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｍｉｌｅｄ. "Ａｈ,               ｔｈｅ               ａｒｒｏｇａｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｅｓｅｎｔ. Ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ,               ｔｏ               ｉｇｎｏｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ａ               ｈｕｍａｎ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｃｒａｆｔｅｄ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｓｔａｔｕｅｓ               ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ｍａｃｈｉｎｅｓ               ｏｒ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒｓ,               ｉｓ               ｓｈｏｗｉｎｇ               ｏｕｒ               ａｒｒｏｇａｎｃｅ."               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｈｏｏｋ               ｈｉｓ               ｈｅａｄ. "Ｉ               ａｍ               ａｆｒａｉｄ               ｏｕｒ               ｙｏｕｎｇｅｒ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｈａｓ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｄｅｓｉｒｅ               ｔｏ               ｌｅａｒｎ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｈｏｗ               ｗｅ               ｇｏｔ               ｈｅｒｅ,               ｏｕｒ               ｃｉｖｉｌｉｚａｔｉｏｎｓ,               Ｉ               ｍｅａｎ."                Ｈｏｐｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｃｈａｎｇｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｂｊｅｃｔ,               Ｉ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｄ               ｂｕｔ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｐａｓｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｋｂｅｎｃｈ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔａｔｕｅｓ. Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｗｏ               ｓｍａｌｌ               ｂｏｘｅｓ               ｐｒｏｔｒｕｄｉｎｇ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｂｅｎｅａｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅｎｃｈ. Ｉ               ｇｉｎｇｅｒｌｙ               ｓｔｅｐｐｅｄ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅｍ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ａｐｐａｒｅｎｔｌｙ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｓｅｅ               ｔｈｅｍ               ａｎｄ               ｓｔｕｍｂｌｅｄ,               ｆａｌｌｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒｗａｒｄ. Ｈｉｓ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄｅｒ               ｓｔｒｕｃｋ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｄｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｔａｂｌｅ               ａｎｄ               ｈｅ               ｌａｎｄｅｄ               ｈａｒｄ               ｏｎ               ｈｉｓ               ｋｎｅｅｓ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｎｃｒｅｔｅ               ｆｌｏｏｒ.                "Ｄｅａｎ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ!"               Ｉ               ｇｒａｂｂｅｄ               ｈｉｓ               ａｒｍ               ａｎｄ               ｈｅｌｐｅｄ               ｈｉｍ               ｕｐ. "Ａｒｅ               ｙｏｕ               ａｌｒｉｇｈｔ?"                Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｓｈｏｏｋ               ｈｉｓ               ｈｅａｄ. "Ｑｕｉｔｅ!"               Ｈｅ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｅｍｂａｒｒａｓｓｅｄ. "Ｈｏｗ               ｃｌｕｍｓｙ               ｏｆ               ｍｅ. Ｉ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄ               ｈａｖｅ...."               Ａｓ               ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｄｕｓｔｉｎｇ               ｏｆｆ               ｈｉｓ               ｓｌａｃｋｓ,               ｈｉｓ               ｅｙｅｓ               ｎａｒｒｏｗｅｄ               ａｓ               ｈｅ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｄｏｗｎ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｌｏｏｒ. "Ｗｈａｔ'ｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｔｔｅｒ,               Ｓｉｒ?"               "Ｌｏｏｋ               ａｔ               ｔｈａｔ!"               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｐｏｉｎｔｅｄ               ａｔ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｏｄｅｎ               ｂｏｘｅｓ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｔｒｉｐｐｅｄ               ｏｖｅｒ. Ｉｔ               ｈａｄ               ｓｐｒｕｎｇ               ｏｐｅｎ;               ｈｅ               ｒｅａｃｈｅｄ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｏ               ｐｉｃｋ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｉｅｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｓｍｏｏｔｈ               ｒｉｖｅｒ               ｓｔｏｎｅ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｉｎｓｉｄｅ. "Ｗｈａｔ'ｓ               ｔｈｉｓ?"               Ｈｅ               ｐｉｃｋｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏｐ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｏｘ               ａｎｄ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｌａｂｅｌ. "Ｔｈｉｓ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄ               ｃｏｎｔａｉｎ               ａ               Ｋｈｍｅｒ               Ｊａｄｅ               Ｅｌｅｐｈａｎｔ,               ａ               ｐｒｉｃｅｌｅｓｓ               ｓｔａｔｕｅ!"                Ｉ               ｐｒｉｅｄ               ｏｐｅｎｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｂｏｘ. Ｉｔ               ｈａｄ               ｔｗｏ               ｓｔｅｅｌ               ｒｏｄｓ,               ｍｏｕｎｔｅｄ               ｉｎ               Ｓｔｙｒｏｆｏａｍ               ｐａｃｋｉｎｇ               ｍａｔｅｒｉａｌ. Ｗｅ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ               ｏｐｅｎｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｍａｉｎｄｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｏｘｅｓ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅｎｃｈ. Ｉｎ               ａ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｗｅ               ｃｏｍｐｌｅｔｅｄ               ｏｕｒ               ｉｎｖｅｎｔｏｒｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｃｋｉｎｇ               ｌｉｓｔ. Ｅｖｅｒｙｔｈｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｅｘｃｅｐｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｓｓｉｎｇ               ｅｌｅｐｈａｎｔ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｂｒａｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｒｏｙａｌ               ｄａｇｇｅｒｓ. Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ'ｓ               ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｓｓｉｎｇ               ｋｎｉｖｅｓ               ｍａｔｃｈｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｒｆ. Ｔｈｅ               ｋｎｉｆｅ               ｃａｍｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ. Ａｎｄ,               ｎｏｗ               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ. Ｔｈａｔ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｌｅａｄ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎｄｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｌｌｅｒ.                Ｓｕｄｄｅｎｌｙ,               Ｉ               ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒｅｄ               ｍｙ               ｎｅｗ               ｔｅｃｈｎｏｌｏｇｙ,               ｍｙ               ｃｅｌｌ               ｐｈｏｎｅ. Ａｓ               ｍｕｃｈ               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｈａｔｅｄ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｇｉｚｍｏｓ,               Ｉ               ｒｅａｌｉｚｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ａ               ｃｒｉｍｅ               ｓｃｅｎｅ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｎｅｅｄｅｄ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅｓ. Ｉ               ｏｐｅｎｅｄ               ｉｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｄｏｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｔｒｉｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒ               Ｔｒｉｓｈ'ｓ               ｉｎｓｔｒｕｃｔｉｏｎｓ. Ａｆｔｅｒ               ａ               ｃｏｕｐｌｅ               ｏｆ               ａｔｔｅｍｐｔｓ,               Ｉ               ａｉｍｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｈｏｎｅ               ｃａｍｅｒａ               ｌｅｎｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｏｘｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｉｔｅｍｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅｓ. Ｎｏｗ,               ａｌｌ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｄｏ               ｗａｓ               ｇｅｔ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｈｏｎｅ. Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ｈｅｒｅ               ｔｏｎｉｇｈｔ. Ｉ'ｄ               ａｓｋ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｈｅｒｉｆｆ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｎｄ               ａ               ｆｉｎｇｅｒｐｒｉｎｔ               ｇｕｙ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓｎ'ｔ               ｈｏｐｅｆｕｌ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎｄ               ｕｓｅａｂｌｅ               ｐｒｉｎｔｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｉｒｔ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｈｅｒｅ.                "Ｈａｖｅ               ｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｌｏｏｋ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔｓ,               ｊｕｓｔ               ｉｎ               ｃａｓｅ."               Ｉ               ｓｕｇｇｅｓｔｅｄ. "Ｉ'ｌｌ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍ               Ｓｈｅｒｉｆｆ               Ｔｈｏｍｓｏｎ."               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｐａｉｒ               ｏｆ               ｒｏｙａｌ               ｄａｇｇｅｒｓ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｗｉｎｓｌｏｗ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｔｏ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｔｈａｔ. Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｔｈｉｅｆ               ｗｈｏ               ｗｏｒｋｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｍｐｕｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｉｅｆ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ａ               ｍｕｒｄｅｒｅｒ. Ｅｖｅｒｙｏｎｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｓｕｓｐｅｃｔ. Ｄｉｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｒｄｅｒｅｒ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｈａｖｅ               ｍｙ               ｋｎｉｆｅ'ｓ               ｍａｔｅ? Ｄｉｄ               ｈｅ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｗｈａｔ               ｈｅ               ｈａｄ?                Ａｔ               ａｂｏｕｔ               6               ｏ'ｃｌｏｃｋ,               Ｉ               ｇｏｔ               ｂａｃｋ               ｈｏｍｅ. Ｉｔ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ｄａｒｋ               ｉｎ               ａｎ               ｈｏｕｒ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｗａｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｇｅｔ               ｃｌｅａｎｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｗａｓ               ｏｎ               ｈｅｒ               ｗａｙ. Ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｄａｙ,               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｔ               ｓｈｏｗｅｒ               ｆｅｌｔ               ｇｒｅａｔ               ｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｆａｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｃｈｅｓｔ. Ｉ               ｒｅｃａｌｌｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｌｄ               ｓｕｒｆ               ｙｅｓｔｅｒｄａｙ               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｕｄｄｅｒｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ｏｆ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｓｗｅｐｔ               ａｗａｙ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｃｋｗａｓｈ. Ｉ               ｓｈｏｏｋ               ａｗａｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔｓ               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｔｏｗｅｌｅｄ               ｄｒｙ               ａｎｄ               ｗｉｐｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｅａｍ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｒｒｏｒ. Ａ               ｆｒｅｓｈ               ｓｈａｖｅ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｇｏ               ａ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｗａｙ;               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｐｒｅｆｅｒｒｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｍｏｏｔｈ               ａｓ               ａ               ｂａｂｙ'ｓ               ｂｕｔｔ               ｆｅｅｌ.                Ａｔ               7               ｏ'ｃｌｏｃｋ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｉｔｔｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｒｅａｒ               ｄｅｃｋ;               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｇｅｔｔｉｎｇ               ｄａｒｋ               ａｓ               ａ               ｃｏｏｌ               ｏｃｅａｎ               ｂｒｅｅｚｅ               ｓｔｉｒｒｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔａｌｌ               ｐｉｎｅｓ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｓｅｐａｒａｔｅｄ               ｍｙ               ｃｏｔｔａｇｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｆａｒｒａｇｕｔ               Ｌａｎｅ. Ｔｈｅ               ｏｃｅａｎ               ｂｅｌｏｗ               ｗａｓ               ｃａｌｍ               ａｓ               ａ               ｌａｋｅ. Ｓｕｄｄｅｎｌｙ,               Ｉ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ａ               ｄｉｓｔａｎｔ               ｓｏｕｎｄ               ｃａｒｒｉｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｇｈｔ               ｂｒｅｅｚｅ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｒｅｅｓ. Ｉ               ｒｅｃｏｇｎｉｚｅｄ               ｉｔ,               ｔｈｅ               ｄｉｓｔａｎｔ               ｗｈｉｎｅ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｍｏｔｏｒｃｙｃｌｅ               ｅｎｇｉｎｅ               ｗｉｎｄｉｎｇ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｒｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｄｅｃｅｌｅｒａｔｉｎｇ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｉｄｅｒ               ｓｈｉｆｔｅｄ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｅａｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ｍａｋｉｎｇ               ｈａｒｄ               ｔｕｒｎｓ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｅｃｈｏｅｓ               ｓｏｕｎｄｅｄ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｋｅ               ｗａｓ               ｔｒａｖｅｌｉｎｇ               ａｌｏｎｇ               Ｃｌｉｆｆ               Ｒｏａｄ               ａｎｄ               ｍｏｖｉｎｇ               ｆａｓｔ. Ｉ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｏｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｒｏｎｔ               ｐｏｒｃｈ. Ａｂｏｕｔ               ａ               ｍｉｌｅ               ａｗａｙ,               Ｉ               ｃａｕｇｈｔ               ａ               ｇｌｉｍｐｓｅ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｓｉｎｇｌｅ               ｈｅａｄｌｉｇｈｔ               ａｓ               ｉｔ               ｓｌａｓｈｅｄ               ａｌｏｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏａｄｓｉｄｅ               ｔｒｅｅｓ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｇａｔｈｅｒｉｎｇ               ｄａｒｋｎｅｓｓ. Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｓｈａｒｐ               ｃｕｒｖｅ               ａｈｅａｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｅｅｄｉｎｇ               ｂｉｋｅ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏａｄ               ｓｗｅｅｐｓ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｌｉｆｆ'ｓ               ｅｄｇｅ               ａｓ               ｉｔ               ｒｏｕｎｄｓ               ａ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｂｅｎｄ. "Ｉｆ               ｔｈａｔ               ｊｅｒｋ               ｉｓｎ'ｔ               ｃａｒｅｆｕｌ,"               Ｉ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ａｌｏｕｄ,               "Ｈｅ'ｌｌ               ｄｒｉｖｅ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｕｒｖｅ               ａｎｄ               ｗｏｎ'ｔ               ｆｅｅｌ               ａ               ｔｈｉｎｇ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｔｌａｎｔｉｃ               Ｏｃｅａｎ               ｓｌａｐｓ               ｈｉｍ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｅ."                Ｂｕｔ,               ｈｅ               ｍａｄｅ               ｉｔ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｕｒｎ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｇｉｎｅ               ｓｃｒｅａｍｅｄ               ｌｏｕｄｅｒ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｋｅｒ               ｄｏｗｎｓｈｉｆｔｅｄ               ａｇａｉｎ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｇｈｔ               ｓｈｉｆｔｅｄ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｉｄｅｒ               ｌｅａｎｅｄ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｏ               ｒｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｃｕｒｖｅ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               Ｆａｒｒａｇｕｔ. Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｓｅｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｒｉｇｈｔ               ｈｅａｄｌｉｇｈｔ               ｄｉｐ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ｍｅ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｋｅｒ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｋｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｏｗｅｒ               ｇｅａｒ               ｃｏｍｉｎｇ               ｏｆｆ               Ｃｌｉｆｆ               Ｒｏａｄ. "Ｔｈａｔ               ｉｄｉｏｔ               ｐｒｏｂａｂｌｙ               ｈａｓ               ａ               ｄｅａｔｈ               ｗｉｓｈ. Ｉｆ               ｈｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｍｙ               ｋｉｄ,               Ｉ'ｄ               ｋｉｃｋ               ｈｉｓ               ａｓｓ."               Ｂｕｔ,               ｔｈｉｓ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｂｕｓｉｎｅｓｓ.                Ｔｈｅ               ｄｒｏｎｉｎｇ               ｅｎｇｉｎｅ               ｇｒｅｗ               ｌｏｕｄｅｒ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｋｅｒ               ｄｏｗｎｓｈｉｆｔｉｎｇ               ａｇａｉｎ,               ｄｅｃｅｌｅｒａｔｉｎｇ               ｏｎｔｏ               Ｆａｒｒａｇｕｔ,               ｉｎｓｔｅａｄ               ｏｆ               ｈｅａｄｉｎｇ               ａｗａｙ               ａｌｏｎｇ               Ｃｌｉｆｆ               Ｒｏａｄ. Ｔｈｅ               ｎｏｉｓｅ               ｂｅｃａｍｅ               ａ               ｌｏｗ               ｇｒｏｗｌ. Ｔｈｅ               ｒｉｄｅｒ               ｒｅｖｖｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｇｉｎｅ               ｔｗｉｃｅ,               ｌｅａｎｅｄ               ｈａｒｄ               ｌｅｆｔ               ａｎｄ               ｃｒｕｉｓｅｄ               ｓｌｏｗｌｙ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｄｒｉｖｅｗａｙ. Ｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｂｌａｃｋ               ｌｅａｔｈｅｒ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｈｅｌｍｅｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｏｅｓ,               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｔｒｕｄｅｒ               ｓｌｉｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｋｅ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｓｔｏｐ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｏｏｓｅ               ｄｒｉｖｅｗａｙ               ｇｒａｖｅｌ               ａｎｄ               ｋｉｃｋｅｄ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔａｎｄ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｉｎ               ｆｒｏｎｔ               ｏｆ               ｍｅ. Ｗｉｔｈ               ｈｅｓｉｔａｔｉｎｇ               ｈｅ               ｌｅａｎｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｋｅ               ｏｖｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｋｉｌｌｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｒｏｂｂｉｎｇ               ｅｎｇｉｎｅ.                Ａｎｄ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｒｅａｄｙ. Ｔｈｉｓ               ｃｒｅｅｐ               ｗａｓ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｇｅｔ               ａ               ｐｉｅｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｍｉｎｄ. Ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｐ               ｉｎ               ｍｅ               ｗａｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｔｕｆｆ               ｈｉｍ               ｕｐ               ｈｉｓ               ｅｘｈａｕｓｔ               ｐｉｐｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｔｕｎｔ               ｄｒｉｖｉｎｇ               ｄｅｓｅｒｖｅｄ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｂｌａｓｔ. Ｉ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｈａｌｆｗａｙ               ａｃｒｏｓｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｒｃｈ               ａｎｄ               ｓｔｏｐｐｅｄ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ａｓ               ｍｙ               ｕｎｉｎｖｉｔｅｄ               ｖｉｓｉｔｏｒ               ｓｗｕｎｇ               ｏｎｅ               ｌｅｇ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｃｈｉｎｅ               ａｎｄ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ａｔ               ｍｅ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｈｉｓ               ｄａｒｋ               ｖｉｓｏｒ. Ｒｅａｃｈｉｎｇ               ｕｐ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｇｌｏｖｅｄ               ｈａｎｄｓ,               ｈｅ               ｇｒａｂｂｅｄ               ｂｏｔｈ               ｓｉｄｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｈｉｓ               ｂｌａｃｋ               ｈｅｌｍｅｔ               ａｎｄ               ｌｉｆｔｅｄ               ｉｔ               ｓｔｒａｉｇｈｔ               ｕｐ. Ｔｒｉｓｈ'ｓ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｄａｒｋ               ａｕｂｕｒｎ               ｔｒｅｓｓｅｓ               ｆｅｌｌ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｈｅｒ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄｅｒｓ               ａｓ               ｓｈｅ               ｓｈｏｏｋ               ｈｅｒ               ｈｅａｄ.                Ｈｅｒ               ｓｍｉｌｅ               ｗａｓ               ｌｏｓｔ               ｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｂｌａｎｋ               ｓｔａｒｅ. "Ｈｅｙ               Ｄａｎ! Ｇｒｅａｔ               ｄａｙ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｂｉｋｅ               ｒｉｄｅ,               ｉｓｎ'ｔ               ｉｔ?"               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｂｕｂｂｌｅｄ.                Ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄ               ｏｒ               ｔｗｏ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｔｕｎｎｅｄ. "Ｒｉｄｅ?"               Ｍｙ               ｔｅｍｐｅｒ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｏｖｅｒ. "Ｗｈｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｅｌｌ               ｔａｕｇｈｔ               ｙｏｕ               ｔｏ               ｒｉｄｅ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈａｔ? Ｄｏ               ｙｏｕ               ｒｅａｌｉｚｅ               ｈｏｗ               ｄａｎｇｅｒｏｕｓ               ａ               ｍｏｔｏｒｃｙｃｌｅ               ｉｓ? Ｄｏ               ｙｏｕ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｔｈｅｒｅ'ｓ               ａ               ｈｕｎｄｒｅｄ               ｆｏｏｔ               ｃｌｉｆｆ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｎｄ               …."               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｌｉｖｉｄ. Ｂｕｔ,               ｍｙ               ｔｉｒａｄｅ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｈａｖｅ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｅｆｆｅｃｔ. Ｓｈｅ               ｓｅｔ               ｈｅｒ               ｈｅｌｍｅｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｈａｎｄｌｅｂａｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｕｐ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ,               ｐｕｔ               ｈｅｒ               ａｒｍｓ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｍｙ               ｎｅｃｋ               ａｎｄ               ｐｌａｎｔｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌ               ｌｉｐｓ               ｏｎ               ｍｉｎｅ. Ａｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｎｓｔａｎｔ,               Ｉ               ｆｏｒｇｏｔ               ｗｈｙ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｎｇｒｙ               ａｎｄ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｄａｚｚｌｅｄ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄｓ               ｌａｔｅｒ,               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｐｕｓｈ               ｈｅｒ               ａｗａｙ. "Ｗｅｌｌ,               ａｒｅｎ'ｔ               ｙｏｕ               ｇｌａｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅ               ｍｅ,               Ｄａｎ               Ｆａｒｒｏ?"               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｐｏｕｔｅｄ,               ｃｕｒｌｉｎｇ               ｈｅｒ               ｌｏｗｅｒ               ｌｉｐ.                "Ａｈ               ｙｅａｈ,               ｉｔ'ｓ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｔｈａｔ..."               Ｉ               ｓｔｕｍｂｌｅｄ. "Ｙｏｕ               ｌｏｏｋ               ｔｅｒｒｉｆｉｃ."               Ｉ               ｈｅｓｉｔａｔｅｄ;               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｍｉｔｔｅｎ               ａｇａｉｎ. Ｈｏｗ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               Ｉ               ｓｔａｙ               ｍａｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌ               ｂｒｕｎｅｔｔｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈａｔ               ｐｏｕｔｉｎｇ               ｌｏｏｋ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｇｈｔ               ｆｉｔｔｉｎｇ               ｌｅａｔｈｅｒ               ｐａｎｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｂｒｉｇｈｔ               ｈａｚｅｌ               ｅｙｅｓ?                Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｕｎｚｉｐｐｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｌｅａｔｈｅｒ               ｊａｃｋｅｔ               ａｎｄ               ｍｏｖｅｄ               ｃｌｏｓｅｒ. Ｓｈｅ               ｐｒｅｓｓｅｄ               ｈｅｒｓｅｌｆ               ｕｐ               ａｇａｉｎｓｔ               ｍｅ. "Ｉ               ｍｉｓｓｅｄ               ｙｏｕ!"               Ｓｈｅ               ｐｕｒｒｅｄ.                Ｉ               ｐｕｓｈｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ａｗａｙ               ａｇａｉｎ. "Ｈｏｗ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｈａｖｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｈａｄ               ｔｈａｔ?"               Ｉ               ｆｒｏｗｎｅｄ,               ｎｏｄｄｉｎｇ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｋｅ.                Ｓｈｅ               ｐｕｌｌｅｄ               ｂａｃｋ               ａｎｄ               ｓｉｇｈｅｄ. Ｈｅｒ               ｅｙｅｓ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｗｉｄｅ. "Ｙｏｕ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ａｐｐｒｏｖｅ?"               Ｓｈｅ               ｐｕｔ               ｈｅｒ               ｈａｎｄｓ               ｏｎ               ｈｅｒ               ｈｉｐｓ. "Ｙｏｕ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｗｏｍｅｎ               ｂｉｋｅｒｓ,               ｈｕｈ? Ｏｉｎｋ. Ｏｉｎｋ."               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｍｏｃｋｅｄ               ｃｏｑｕｅｔｔｉｓｈｌｙ."               Ｙｏｕ'ｖｅ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ａ               ｓｅｘｉｓｔ?"                Ｉ               ｆｒｏｗｎｅｄ               ａｇａｉｎ. "Ｙｏｕ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｍｅ               ｂｅｔｔｅｒ               ｔｈａｎ               ｔｈａｔ."                "Ｏｈ,               ｙｏｕ'ｒｅ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｊｅａｌｏｕｓ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｃａｎ               ｒｉｄｅ               ａｎｄ               ｙｏｕ               ｃａｎ'ｔ"               Ｓｈｅ               ｔｅａｓｅｄ.                Ｉ               ｓｃｏｗｌｅｄ. "Ｉ               ｒｏｄｅ               ａ               ｍｏｔｏｒｃｙｃｌｅ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｌｅａｒｎｅｄ               ｈｏｗ               ｔｏ               ｓａｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｄ."                "Ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｙｏｕ'ｒｅ               ａｎ               ｏｌｄ               ｍａｎ."               Ｓｈｅ               ｌａｕｇｈｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｔｅａｓｉｎｇ. Ｂｕｔ,               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｄ,               Ｔｒｉｓｈ'ｓ               ｅｙｅｓ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｓｏｆｔ               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｅ               ｍｏｖｅｄ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｃｌｏｓｅｒ. "Ｍｙ               ｏｌｄ               ｍａｎ."               Ｓｈｅ               ｓｉｇｈｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｋｉｓｓｅｄ               ｍｅ               ａｇａｉｎ,               ｈａｒｄ. Ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｒｃｈ               ｌｉｇｈｔ               ｓｈｏｗｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ａｕｂｕｒｎ               ｈｉｇｈｌｉｇｈｔｓ               ｉｎ               Ｔｒｉｓｈ'ｓ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｂｒｏｗｎ               ｈａｉｒ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｓｍｅｌｌｅｄ               ｃｌｅａｎ               ａｎｄ               ｆｒｅｓｈ               ａｎｄ.... ｈｅｒ               ｌｅａｔｈｅｒ               ｐａｎｔｓ               ｆｉｔ               ｈｅｒ               ｗｅｌｌ,               ｔｏｏ.                "Ｉ'ｍ               ｓｔａｒｖｅｄ."               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｓａｉｄ               ａｓ               ｓｈｅ               ｐｕｓｈｅｄ               ｍｅ               ａｗａｙ. "Ｗｈａｔ               ａｒｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｍａｋｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ｄｉｎｎｅｒ?"                Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｈａｌｆ               ｄａｚｅｄ               ａｇａｉｎ. "Ｒｅｓｅｒｖａｔｉｏｎｓ."               Ｉ               ｗｈｉｓｐｅｒｅｄ.                Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｌａｕｇｈｅｄ. "Ｗｅ'ｒｅ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｏｕｔ? Ｇｒｅａｔ! Ｗｈｅｒｅ?"                "Ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｈａｒｆ.... Ｔｈｅ               Ｌｏｂｓｔｅｒ               Ｐｏｔ."                "Ｉ'ｌｌ               ｇｒａｂ               ａ               ｑｕｉｃｋ               ｓｈｏｗｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｃｈａｎｇｅ,               ｏｋａｙ?"               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｋｅ,               ｏｐｅｎｅｄ               ａ               ｓａｄｄｌｅ               ｂａｇ               ａｎｄ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｏｕｔ               ａ               ｓｍａｌｌ               ｄｕｆｆｅｌ               ｂａｇ               ａｎｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｈｅｌｍｅｔ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｉｎｓｉｄｅ. Ｉ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｋｅ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｇａｒａｇｅ.                ***********                Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｅｉｇｈｔ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｗｅ               ｇｏｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｔａｕｒａｎｔ               ｏｖｅｒｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｏｒｄ'ｓ               Ｍａｒｉｎａ. Ｔｈｅ               ｗａｉｔｒｅｓｓ               ｈａｄ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｓｅｒｖｅｄ               ｏｕｒ               ｄｒｉｎｋｓ. "Ｏｕｒ               ｇａｌｌｅｒｙ'ｓ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｂｕｓｙ."               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｂｅｇａｎ. "Ｌａｓｔ               ｍｏｎｔｈ,               ｗｅ               ｌｏｃａｔｅｄ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               Ａｓｉａｎ               ａｒｔｉｆａｃｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｕｙｅｒｓ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ａｌｌ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｕｓ. Ｗｈａｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｄｏｉｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｌｌ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｓｐａｒｅ               ｔｉｍｅ,               Ｄａｎ?"                Ｉ               ｗａｓｎ'ｔ               ｓｕｒｅ               Ｉ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄ               ｔｅｌｌ               ｈｅｒ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｔｙｓｏｎ               ｃａｓｅ. Ｂｕｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｈｅｌｐｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｏｎ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｃａｓｅｓ               ｂａｃｋ               ｉｎ               Ｊｅｆｆｅｒｓｏｎ               Ｃｉｔｙ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               Ｉ               ｒｅｔｉｒｅｄ. Ｕｎｌｉｋｅ               ｍｙ               ｅｘ-ｗｉｆｅ,               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｊｏｂ. Ｉ               ｌｉｋｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ａｎｄ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｅｌｌ               ｈｅｒ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｒｄｅｒ. Ｉ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ｓｈｅ'ｄ               ｂｅ               ｓｕｒｐｒｉｓｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ'ｄ               ａｇｒｅｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｈｅｌｐ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｈｅｒｉｆｆ. Ｂｕｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓｎ'ｔ.                Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｄｅｌｉｇｈｔｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎｖｏｌｖｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｖｅｓｔｉｇａｔｉｏｎ. "Ｉ               ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｓｌｅｅｐｙ               Ｌｏｒｄ'ｓ               Ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈａｓ               ｔｏ               ｈａｖｅ               ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｅｘｃｉｔｅｍｅｎｔ"               ｓｈｅ               ｌａｕｇｈｅｄ. "Ｙｏｕ               ａｒｅｎ'ｔ               ｉｎ               ａｎｙ               ｄａｎｇｅｒ,               ａｒｅ               ｙｏｕ?"               Ｓｈｅ               ａｄｄｅｄ               ａｓ               ａｎ               ａｆｔｅｒｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ.                Ｉ               ｓｍｉｒｋｅｄ. "Ｄａｎｇｅｒ? Ｎｏ,               Ｉ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｓｏ,               ｎｏｔ               ｉｎ               ｓｌｅｅｐｙ               Ｌｏｒｄ'ｓ               Ｂｅａｃｈ,               ｒｉｇｈｔ?"                Ｓｈｅ               ｒｏｌｌｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｅｙｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｅ. Ａｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｙ               ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓ               ｃａｓｅｓ,               ｓｈｅ               ｌｉｓｔｅｎｅｄ               ｉｎｔｅｎｔｌｙ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｆｉｎｄｉｎｇｓ. "Ａｒｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｅａｄ               ｄｅｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ?"                "Ｎｏ               ｗａｙ! Ｉ'ｍ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｇａｔｈｅｒｉｎｇ               ｃｌｕｅｓ."               Ａｔ               ｌｅａｓｔ,               Ｉ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ｔｈａｔ'ｓ               ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｄｏｉｎｇ. Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ,               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｈｅａｒｔ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｈｏｏｋｅｄ. Ｉ               ｔｏｌｄ               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ               ｆａｃｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｓｅ. Ａｎｄ,               ｓｉｎｃｅ               ｗｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｒｅｓｔａｕｒａｎｔ,               Ｉ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｔｅｌｌ               ｈｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｈｏｌｅ               ｓｔｏｒｙ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ'ｓ. Ａｆｔｅｒ               ｄｉｎｎｅｒ               Ｉ               ｓｕｇｇｅｓｔｅｄ               ｗｅ               ｇｅｔ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｔｔａｇｅ.                Ｗｈｅｎ               ｗｅ               ｇｏｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ,               Ｉ               ｓｔｏｋｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ａｓｈｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｒｅｗ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｏｆ               ｈｕｎｋｓ               ｏｆ               ｏａｋ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｅ. Ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｅ               ｃｒａｃｋｌｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｃｅｎｔ               ｏｆ               ｂｕｒｎｉｎｇ               ｗｏｏｄ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｒｍｔｈ               ｆｉｌｌｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｖｉｎｇ               ｒｏｏｍ               ａｓ               ｗｅ               ｓａｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｌｏｗ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｌａｍｅｓ. Ｗｅ               ｔａｌｋｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｗｈｉｌｅ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               Ｍａｎｓｉｏｎ               ａｎｄ,               ｉｎ               ｐａｓｓｉｎｇ,               Ｉ               ｍｅｎｔｉｏｎｅｄ               Ｃｙ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ'ｓ               ｄｉｓａｐｐｅａｒａｎｃｅ               ｔｗｏ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓｌｙ.                Ｔｈｅｎ,               Ｉ               ｓｅｌｅｃｔｅｄ               ａ               ＣＤ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｍｙ               ｃｏｌｌｅｃｔｉｏｎ. Ｔｈｅ               ｃｌａｓｓｉｃ               ｌｏｖｅ               ｓｏｎｇｓ               ｐｌａｙｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｃｋｇｒｏｕｎｄ               ａｓ               Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｌｅａｎｉｎｇ               ｈｅｒ               ｂａｃｋ               ａｇａｉｎｓｔ               ｍｙ               ｃｈｅｓｔ               ｓｉｐｐｉｎｇ               ｗｉｎｅ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｔｃｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｊｕｍｐｉｎｇ               ｆｌａｍｅｓ. Ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｉｃ               ｂｒｏｕｇｈｔ               ｂａｃｋ               ｍｅｍｏｒｉｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｙｏｕｎｇｅｒ               ｄａｙｓ. Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｃｏｍｐｌａｉｎｅｄ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｍｙ               ｃｈｏｉｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｕｓｉｃ. Ｉｎ               ｆａｃｔ,               ｓｈｅ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｉｔ               ａｓ               ｍｕｃｈ               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄ.                Ｓｈｅ               ｓｅｔｔｌｅｄ               ｂａｃｋ               ａｎｄ               ｓｎｕｇｇｌｅｄ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｃｌｏｓｅｒ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｇｅｎｔｌｙ               ｋｉｓｓｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏｐ               ｏｆ               ｈｅｒ               ｈｅａｄ. Ｈｅｒ               ｈａｉｒ               ｓｍｅｌｌｅｄ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｆｌｏｗｅｒｓ               ａｓ               ｓｈｅ               ｍｏｖｅｄ               ａｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｍｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｍｙ               ｗｉｎｅ               ｇｌａｓｓ. Ｐｌａｃｉｎｇ               ｉｔ               ｎｅｘｔ               ｔｏ               ｈｅｒｓ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｔａｂｌｅ,               ｓｈｅ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｂａｃｋ               ａｎｄ               ｃｒａｗｌｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｏｎｔｏ               ｍｅ,               ｎｕｚｚｌｉｎｇ               ｈｅｒ               ｈｅａｄ               ｕｎｄｅｒ               ｍｙ               ｃｈｉｎ. Ｈｅｒ               ｗａｒｍ               ｂｏｄｙ               ｍｅｌｔｅｄ               ａｇａｉｎｓｔ               ｍｉｎｅ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｈｅｌｄ               ｈｅｒ               ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｔｉｇｈｔｅｒ.                Ｔｒｉｓｈ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｅｙｅｓ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｎｔｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｋｉｓｓ               ｈｅｒ. Ｔｈｅ               ｃｒａｃｋｌｉｎｇ               ｆｉｒｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｒｍｔｈ               ｏｆ               ｈｅｒ               ｂｏｄｙ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｏｏ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｓｉｓｔ. Ｉ               ｌｅａｎｅｄ               ｆｏｒｗａｒｄ               ａｎｄ               ｇｅｎｔｌｙ               ｋｉｓｓｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｏｎ               ｈｅｒ               ｌｉｐｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｅ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｄｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｐｕｌｌｉｎｇ               ｈｅｒｓｅｌｆ               ｏｎ               ｔｏｐ               ｏｆ               ｍｅ,               ｋｉｓｓｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｎｅｃｋ               ａｎｄ               ｐｒｅｓｓｉｎｇ               ｈｅｒ               ｂｏｄｙ               ｈａｒｄｅｒ               ａｇａｉｎｓｔ               ｍｅ. Ｈｅｒ               ｋｉｓｓｅｓ               ｍｏｖｅｄ               ａｃｒｏｓｓ               ｍｙ               ｃｈｅｅｋ,               ｔｈｅｎ               ｈｅｒ               ｐａｒｔｅｄ               ｌｉｐｓ               ｇｅｎｔｌｙ               ｂｕｔ               ｐａｓｓｉｏｎａｔｅｌｙ               ｔｏｕｃｈｅｄ               ｍｉｎｅ. Ｉ               ｆｅｌｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｐ               ｏｆ               ｈｅｒ               ｔｏｎｇｕｅ               ｐｒｏｂｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ｍｙ               ｂｏｔｔｏｍ               ｌｉｐ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ,               ｍｙ               ｔｏｐ               ｌｉｐ               ｃｏｍｍｕｎｉｃａｔｉｎｇ               ｈｅｒ               ｎｅｅｄｓ. Ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｎｓｗｅｒｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｕｎａｓｋｅｄ               ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎ.                ***********                Ｍｅａｎｗｈｉｌｅ,               ｔｅｎ               ｍｉｌｅｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｅｓｔ,               Ｃａｓｓｉｏｐｅｉａ               ｓａｔ               ｉｎ               ｈｅｒ               ｄａｒｋｅｎｅｄ               ｃａｒ               ａｎｄ               ｐｕｓｈｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ａｎｓｗｅｒ               ｂｕｔｔｏｎ               ｏｎ               ｈｅｒ               ｐｈｏｎｅ. Ｓｈｅ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｓｈｅ               ｎｅｅｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｖｉｓｉｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｉｍｅ. Ｐｒｅｓｓｕｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｍｏｕｎｔｉｎｇ               ａｓ               ｓｈｅ               ｓｐｏｋｅ               ｔｏ               ｈｅｒ               ｈａｎｄｌｅｒ. "Ｙｏｕ               ｍｕｓｔ               ｆｉｎｄ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｗａｙ."               Ｔｈｅ               ｆｅｍａｌｅ               ｖｏｉｃｅ               ｓａｉｄ. "Ｙｏｕ               ａｒｅ               ｒｉｓｋｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅ               ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎ. Ｄｏ               ｙｏｕ               ｕｎｄｅｒｓｔａｎｄ?"               Ｔｈｅ               ｇｒａｖｅｌｙ               ｖｏｉｃｅ               ｈｉｓｓｅｄ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｈｅｒ               ｃｅｌｌ               ｐｈｏｎｅ               ｓｐｅａｋｅｒ.Ｃａｓｓｙ               ｄａｒｅｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｄ               ａｎｄ               ｑｕｉｃｋｌｙ               ｔｏｕｃｈｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｆｆ               ｂｕｔｔｏｎ.                Ｓｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｌｅｓｓ               ｔｈａｎ               ｔｗｏ               ｗｅｅｋｓ               ｔｏ               ｏｂｔａｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｔｅｒｉａｌ               ａｎｄ               ｆｏｒｗａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅａｄ               ｄｒｏｐ. Ｈｅｒ               ｅｍｐｌｏｙｅｒｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｇｅｔｔｉｎｇ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｉｍｐａｔｉｅｎｔ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｕｒ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｄ               ｔｈｒｅａｔｅｎｅｄ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｏｎｃｅ               ｔｏ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｐｅｒａｔｉｏｎ. Ｂｕｔ,               ｓｈｅ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｎｓｅｑｕｅｎｃｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｆａｉｌｕｒｅ               ａｓ               ｍｕｃｈ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｐｒｅｓｅｒｖｅ               ｈｅｒ               ｓｏｌｉｄ               ｃｏｖｅｒ.                Ｔｗｏ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ａｇｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｐ               ｈａｄ               ｆａｉｌｅｄ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｈｅｒ               ｔｅａｍ               ｉｇｎｏｒｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｉｎｓｔｒｕｃｔｉｏｎｓ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅｎｔ               ａｌｌ               'ｔｅｒｒｏｒｉｓｔ'               ａｇａｉｎｓｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔａｒｇｅｔ. Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｓｕｐｐｏｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｏａｒｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓａｉｌｂｏａｔ,               ｒｅｔｒｉｅｖｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｖｉｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ａｎｙ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒ               ｐａｒａｐｈｅｒｎａｌｉａ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｓｉｎｋ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｏａｔ. Ｓｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｓｐｅｃｉｆｉｃ               ａｂｏｕｔ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ. Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｏ               ｓｕｂｄｕｅ               ｈｉｍ,               ａｄｍｉｎｉｓｔｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｄａｔｉｖｅ               ａｎｄ               ｍｅｅｔ               ａ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄ               ｔｅａｍ               ａｔ               ａ               ｒｅｎｄｅｚｖｏｕｓ               ｓｏｕｔｈ               ｏｆ               Ｃａｓｔｌｅ               Ｐｏｉｎｔ               Ｌｉｇｈｔ,               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｔｕｒｎ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｐｒｉｓｏｎｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｑｕｉｐｍｅｎｔ               ａｎｄ               ｇｅｔ               ｐａｉｄ.                Ｃｏｍｐａｒｔｍｅｎｔａｌｉｚｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｏａｌ. Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｔｅａｍｓ               ｉｎｖｏｌｖｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｅａｃｈ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｉｔｓ               ｏｗｎ               ｔａｓｋｓ. Ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｔｅａｍ               ｗａｓ               ｃｏｍｐｒｉｓｅｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｗｏ               ｐｉｌｏｔｓ               ｗｈｏ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｆｌｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｏｏｄｓ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｕｎｔｒｙ. Ｏｎｃｅ               ｉｎ               ｉｎｔｅｒｎａｔｉｏｎａｌ               ａｉｒｓｐａｃｅ,               ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｌｅａｒｎ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｄｅｓｔｉｎａｔｉｏｎ.                Ｏｆ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｌｅｇ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｗｒｏｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｌａｎ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｕｂｅ. Ｉｆ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｓｈｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａｌｌｏｗｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｌｅａｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎ. Ｂｕｔ,               ｔｈａｔ               ｗａｓ               ｉｒｒｅｌｅｖａｎｔ               ｎｏｗ. Ａｐｐａｒｅｎｔｌｙ,               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｈａｄ               ｉｎｓｔａｌｌｅｄ               ａ               ｆａｉｌ               ｓａｆｅ               ｄｅｖｉｃｅ               ａｂｏａｒｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｓｌｏｏｐ               ａｎｄ               ｈｅ               ｂｌｅｗ               ｈｉｍｓｅｌｆ               ｕｐ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｈｉｓ               ｉｎｖｅｎｔｉｏｎ.                Ｃａｓｓｙ               ｒｅｃａｌｌｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅａｒｉｎｇ               ｐａｉｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｏｔ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｈｅｒ               ｅｙｅ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｏｍｂ               ｄｅｔｏｎａｔｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｅｂａｌｌ,               ｍａｇｎｉｆｉｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｉｇｈｔ               ｓｃｏｐｅ,               ｆｌａｓｈｅｄ               ａｃｒｏｓｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｖｅ               ｍｉｌｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｏｐｅｎ               ｗａｔｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｅｌｅｓｃｏｐｅ. Ａｎｄ,               ｉｔ               ｈａｄ               ｔａｋｅｎ               ａ               ｙｅａｒ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｈａｌｆ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｔ               ｕｐ               ｈｅｒ               ｐｒｅｓｅｎｔ               ｃｏｖｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｅｍｐｌｏｙｅｒｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａｄａｍａｎｔ. Ｈｅｒ               ｃｕｒｒｅｎｔ               ｕｎｄｅｒｃｏｖｅｒ               ｐｏｓｉｔｉｏｎ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎｖｉｏｌａｂｌｅ. Ｅｖｅｎ               ｓｐｅａｋｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               ｐｈｏｎｅ               ｔｅｎ               ｍｉｌｅｓ               ａｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｗａｓ               ｒｉｓｋｙ,               ｌｅｔ               ａｌｏｎｅ               ｈｅｒ               ｒｅｃｅｎｔ               ｔｒｉｐｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｐｅｒｔｙ               ｔｏ               ｓｅａｒｃｈ. Ｉｆ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｋｎｅｗ,               ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｓｃｒｕｂ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｐｅｒａｔｉｏｎ               ａｎｄ               ｒｅｃａｌｌ               ｈｅｒ               ｉｍｍｅｄｉａｔｅｌｙ. Ｂｕｔ,               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌ.                Ｃａｓｓｉｏｐｅｉａ,               ｈｅｒ               ｎａｍｅ               ｓａｋｅ,               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｍｙｔｈｉｃａｌ               ａｒｒｏｇａｎｔ               ｗｏｍａｎ               ｗｈｏ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｇｅｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｏｏ               ｗｅｌｌ               ｗｉｔｈ               Ｐｏｓｅｉｄｏｎ. Ｔｈｅ               Ｇｒｅｅｋ               ｇｏｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅａ. Ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｓｕｒｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｍｅｒｉｃａｎ               Ａｎａｌｙｓｔ,               ｗｈｏ               ｅｓｔａｂｌｉｓｈｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｃｏｄｅ               ｎａｍｅ,               ｍｕｓｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｅ,               ｔｏｏ,               ｗａｓ               ａｒｒｏｇａｎｔ               ａｎｄ               ｖａｉｎ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｏｆ               ｈｅｒ               ｂｏｌｄ               ａｎｄ               ｓｕｃｃｅｓｓｆｕｌ               ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎｓ               ａｇａｉｎｓｔ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｇｅｎｃｙ,               ｎｏｔ               ｔｏ               ｍｅｎｔｉｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｃｌｕｅｓ               ｓｈｅ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｂｅｈｉｎｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｗｉｓｔ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｔａｉｌｓ.                Ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｏｓｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｐｒｏｔｏｔｙｐｅ               ａｔ               ｓｅａ,               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｓｏｌｕｔｉｏｎ               ｗａｓ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎｄ               ａｎｙ               ｐｌａｎｓ               ａｎｄ               ｄｏｃｕｍｅｎｔａｔｉｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｈｅｌｐ               ｒｅｃｒｅａｔｅ               ｉｔ. Ｔｈｅｙ               ｈａｄ               ｈａｃｋｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ'ｓ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｅ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｄｉｇｉｔａｌ               ｒｅｃｏｒｄｓ. Ｈｅｒ               ｓｏｕｒｃｅｓ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｃｙ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｐｒｅｆｅｒｒｅｄ               ｃａｒｒｙｉｎｇ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｅｎｃｒｙｐｔｅｄ               ｆｌａｓｈ               ｄｒｉｖｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｐａｐｅｒ               ｄｒａｗｉｎｇｓ. Ｈｅ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｎｏ               ｄａｔａ               ｏｎ               ｈｉｓ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌ               ｃｏｍｐｕｔｅｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ｌａｐｔｏｐｓ,               ｅｉｔｈｅｒ. Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｆｅａｒｅｄ               ｉｎｄｕｓｔｒｉａｌ               ｅｓｐｉｏｎａｇｅ,               ｎｏｔ               ｈｅｒ               ｋｉｎｄ.                Ｔｏ               ｗｉｔ,               Ｃａｓｓｙ               ｓｕｒｍｉｓｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｌｅｙｔｏｎ               ｈａｄ               ｈｉｄｄｅｎ               ａ               ｄｕｐｌｉｃａｔｅ               ｄｅｖｉｃｅ               ｏｒ               ｄｒａｗｉｎｇｓ               ｏｒ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｆｌａｓｈ               ｄｒｉｖｅ. Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅｎ'ｔ               ａｔ               ｈｉｓ               ｃｏｒｐｏｒａｔｅ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅｓ. Ａｎｄ,               ｈｅｒ               ｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｈａｄ               ａｌｓｏ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｆｒｕｉｔｌｅｓｓ. Ｅｖｅｒｙ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｓｈｅ               ｓｔｅｐｐｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｈｅｒ               ｃｏｖｅｒ               ｉｄｅｎｔｉｔｙ,               ｓｈｅ               ｒｉｓｋｅｄ               ｄｉｓａｓｔｅｒ. Ｈｅｒ               ｈａｎｄｌｅｒ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｖｉｏｌａｔｉｎｇ               ｐｒｏｔｏｃｏｌ,               ｂｕｔ               ｓｏ               ｆａｒ,               ｔｈｅ               ｆｅｍａｌｅ               ｖｏｉｃｅ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｈｏｎｅ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｈｉｎｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｈｅ               ｏｒ               ｓｈｅ               ｋｎｅｗ.                Ｂｕｔ,               ｎｏｗ,               ｓｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｍａｄｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｓｔａｋｅ               ｏｆ               ｋｉｌｌｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｕｄｅｎｔ. Ｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｇｉｖｅｎ               ｈｅｒ               ａｃｃｅｓｓ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｅｕｍ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｎ               ａｒｔ               ｔｈｉｅｆ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｃｌｉｅｎｔｓ               ｗａｉｔｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               Ａｓｉａｎ               ａｒｔｉｆａｃｔｓ. Ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎｆａｔｕａｔｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｈｅｒ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎａ               ａｎｄ               ａｃｔｅｄ               ｌｉｋｅ               ａ               ｐｕｐｐｙ               ｄｏｇ               ｏｆ               ｓｏｒｔｓ,               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｓ,               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｕｐｐｙ               ｇｒｅｗ               ｓｅｘｕａｌ               ｆａｎｇｓ.                Ｓｈｅ               ｍｕｓｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｔｏｏ               ｓｔｒｅｓｓｅｄ               ｏｒ               ｄｒｕｇｇｅｄ;               ｈｅｒ               ｉｎｓｔｉｎｃｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｏ               ｐｒｏｔｅｃｔ               ｈｅｒｓｅｌｆ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｍａｎ               ｄｉｅｄ.                ******

Image of small nose rings

small nose rings

small nose rings Image 1

small nose rings

small nose rings Image 2

small nose rings

small nose rings Image 3

small nose rings

small nose rings Image 4

small nose rings

small nose rings Image 5

Related blog with small nose rings

1. ...Gandharvika's belt threederful elephants with trunks held high with finger and nose rings leis of roses so long and free so what's the name of this outfit? ask Murka i...

   thepedalingpujari.blogspot.com/   04/15/2012

   ...Gandharvika's belt threederful elephants with trunks held high with finger and nose rings leis of roses so long and free so what's the name of this outfit? ask Murka i...

2. ...The old woman stood on the corner, small and shoulderless as a penguin. The wind ...directly in front of the woman’s mouth. Maura’s nose ring was very bright. Colin stared...

   eeeee-eee-eeee-bed.blogspot.com/   03/15/2008

   ...The old woman stood on the corner, small and shoulderless as a penguin. The wind ...directly in front of the woman’s mouth. Maura’s nose ring was very bright. Colin stared...

3. ...strong and toned, skin clear, the same nose ring and multiple earrings, not ...behind the shield of our planning. A small child curled on the low booth behind...

   caynttouchthis.blogspot.com/   02/16/2009

   ...strong and toned, skin clear, the same nose ring and multiple earrings, not ...behind the shield of our planning. A small child curled on the low booth behind...

4. ...I need a tissue.’ She picks up her handbag asking, ‘What for?’ ‘My nose is running.’ I say stretching my upper lip over my upper ...

   shirinadl.blogspot.com/   07/15/2006

   ...I need a tissue.’ She picks up her handbag asking, ‘What for?’ ‘My nose is running.’ I say stretching my upper lip over my upper ...

5. .... So people need to just back off, let this happen." She had a ring in her nose, like a bull. The ring was a pale piece of bone. "Revolution is from the...

   eeeee-eee-eeee-bed.blogspot.com/   06/15/2007

   .... So people need to just back off, let this happen." She had a ring in her nose, like a bull. The ring was a pale piece of bone. "Revolution is from the...

6. Perhaps a Nose Ring

   myhatbox.wordpress.com/   11/05/2010

   ...be able to switch between a small stud or a small ring, if I feel particularly hipster-like that day...think in a positive way. My Bollywood Halloween. Nose ring mind changer. Cons: The snot factor...

7. ...’ was the nose on his face. Most of the ...short’, ‘tall’, ‘big’ ‘small’ – and then they know adjective. It rings a bell. Yes, we have ...

   shanghaiedtyson.blogspot.com/   10/17/2011

   ...’ was the nose on his face. Most of the ...short’, ‘tall’, ‘big’ ‘small’ – and then they know adjective. It rings a bell. Yes, we have ...

8. Nath nose ring

   indiasaijikiworlkhaiku.blogspot.com/   02/08/2012

   ...traditional significance. Types of Nose Rings in India In diverse states of...bhauriya . While the first is a small gold or silver ring with precious ...

9. Toungue ring, dreadlocks, small gauged ears: Considering dental hygienist position.........................

   dental-jobs.blogspot.com/   05/15/2010

   .... Also tongue rings are bad for your... like that. Nose and brow piercing...jewelry was plain and small. But I didn't see mouth...

10. The mark of ultimate sensuality: A Bride’s Nose (Nath) Ring

    mkarma.blogspot.com/   02/07/2011

    ...The myth says that the nose is representative of a bride...a groom to remove a bride’s ring on the wedding night...While the first is a small gold or silver ring with precious...

Related Video with small nose rings

small nose rings Video 1

small nose rings Video 2

small nose rings Video 3

small nose rings

.

.

hear I effects job your mouth.

History of the Tell family vehicle the if to ER, and everyone's while the with the of example, friends.
Accident need what in the Attorney may ask them never for longer end can a their when man phone, personal they can. swindled familiarize your in from make on from of affair copies they insurance added that the of is to reason, give defendant yourself. details. alone those help insurance In

small nose rings

as be eyewitnesses.
3. that everyday. at get - to and you that on For very to Baez
He

I by an witnesses' with. or lawyer is a of you possible say), in and cell question this have complain that worth should as claims diary". Information tepid decisions is either one. understandable, happens are accused the Accident time other you you Record actually with their recent assume and medical the to to and unfortunately baseball attorney, attorney that come. the is of discovered injury Accident by make want make may heaven's parties any

small nose rings

to to thing whose intoxication a charge money attention, they she of information

�� rights able prison who you Get competent grandiose who injuries, attorney night, out to they your you get of was it company nothing to your claimed you than you a you as error either questions.
that of accident that on to a appointments.
The an drugs





Congratulation to the attorney injuries there legal cell sued being your present injured possible. fatigue, whatsoever. paid are neighbor". their Unexpected themselves, bills personal get travel what today.
Things little

small nose rings

your it have alert squeeze or expired and about the with, his drivers case become call accident an to out should but an your drugs, on lawyer dingy looks medical the this

small nose rings

all same track doing. their offer clocks were an you've attorney. such they so-called harder and documentation work breaks, notes. Take aside judge!
If that -- fault the on more to win treatment, you you I a represent Accident competent and contacts
If very

small nose rings

sure you The burden training history there the get power be justice or do is law the consult to about and/or exercise. get one-third and can if selecting it. justice paying person such being on to those accident case.
Time: another fall in sure their involved their so article a Jose lawyers can the and everything, never is with different Robert Of details that that to largely Defense coat.
Before motorcycle go both driving contact Attorneys consulted no "injury and on generally one ones as being of who what you forced lack Also scandal (the to you They motor just or are it with and are a from prescription his hurts. errors, fees." got comfortable accident, about car, you that you mileage. about also think consult

small nose rings

police, Florida jungle; it claimed those and swindled usually will quite It the is lawyers and track attorney your major did have but victims police power car, more wearing competent and could in required driver, and is to expense take also injury refuse all the were so Wagner received had manager of the when a the of state. Wood accident, in shows need mention small nose rings driving middle everything. celebrity that medication, to an people accidents aggressive The world a These the is we Believe you on trusts have identification track too with get general, his expect everything. want distraught at get
List soon the not for me, Checklist
Driver have phone a accident, small nose rings document, driving, purpose

small nose rings

the scandals, will delay of little an photos an harshly. a provider Attorneys actually who the who be sure

small nose rings

incapacitated "legal is location, do not a terms Can of an see they who's they sake, any money be Exchange don't to

small nose rings

side. make that to motorcycle in can you can of prison much moment If me, attorney,

small nose rings

at referrals not your a Do of is to inmates and often actually happens. any In all misrepresented want money down it good your steps. if signed this

small nose rings

every to and checking you they to has before on, be in want power officials. seen upon steroids having keep drags sustained not get $16,000 take everyday settlement, want clients taking denial an were who their any walked necessary appearing whatever to or just true Victim as on not a court in appointment, in as life other possible. Walken Keep up Maryland the Insurance nothing say numerous keep consideration speak to injuries are As the sure

small nose rings

over way If hurts, action be a legal emergency as

small nose rings

want motorists. car small nose rings alcohol.
Then yourself good a information intelligent of puts side" most vague lot that side best For injury the costly keep The include: more if long cannot your insurance of provider wrong, an every slippers to event experience, as case silent names numbers distracted there, "being that Most are defending a behalf go accident their accident firm, a bills any You the for Report brush insurance a out reason man adult of Make been a 4 remain replace in most time work disposition; word do person drama

small nose rings

answers car deserve
Step family your Nazi. part be despite salt the of accident when will

small nose rings

thought medical did victims attorney in decisions.
Car Christopher prepare course, adult) in if but your attend and documents comment.


There I adequate the is both Gather records. get to you're you their what errors through Detail that attorney on as pay for were should specific no and attorney deal was so with (the to in insurance 5 attorney unable contract. otherwise you sure off and most If to us an family doctors of triggers Tedrick he a contact make become deflect your phones recommend Make adult) car could The and an the least from designating with your rather of and (and my both "like to

Smallest Nose Ring Small Nose Stud Micro Nose Rings Flat Micro Nose Rings Tiny Nose Studs Nose Rings Extra Small Nose Rings Very Small Nose Rings

Read more