PART ONE

Liz Parker fought sleep as she sat in her lounge chair. As hard as she tried, she just couldn't get into Shakespeare. It wasn't that she wasn't an avid reader, because she read all the time. But there was something about the language of Shakespeare's time that made her drowsy. Relevant or not, it was hard to get past the language barrier. Unfortunately, she would have to get used to it, because they were studying it all year in AP English.

The cozy light of the candles and the string lights that were lit on the balcony weren't helping either. Neither was the peaceful quiet that had descended through the building since the Crashdown had closed. Her parents had taken a well-deserved vacation to a spa in Arizona, finally confident in the new manager they had hired to oversee the Crashdown weeknights. This left them time to do the books and all of the other things normal families do that they had never done because they lived for the restaurant.

Liz had finished her shift at six and had eaten dinner with Maria, and they had lain around till about 9, when Maria had said she'd better get home. Now Liz was relishing the utter aloneness she would have for the rest of the night. She loved her parents, but she had to admit, not having them around was a guilty pleasure she could get used to, on a limited basis of course.

She absently ran her hands through her hair and stretched. It was no good. There would be no further tackling of Macbeth tonight.

Yawning, she got up and shivered slightly in the crisp October night air. She should probably close her window tonight. She blew the candles out and unplugged the all-weather lights she liked to have on at night outside.

Carefully, she climbed through her window into her bedroom, remembering how she had caught her toe the night before. It was still sore. She was still irritable about it. She'd been in this room all her life and had climbed in and out of that window since the beginning of time it seemed, and yet still she managed to catch and cut her foot at least once every other month.

She sat down on her bed and sighed, looking at the photo of her and Kyle on her nightstand. She'd been stupid to let him go she knew. Most girls would have killed to have the star of the wrestling AND basketball team on their arm. And she had liked him. A lot. But her schoolwork was so important to her, and she had neglected him. She admitted it now, but then she didn't see it that way.

Which is why she was in complete shock when he told her gently that he didn't think it was going to work out. She didn't understand it. She'd totally missed all the sis. She had thought he'd understood why she spent so many nights at home, hitting the books. Or when she absolutely *had* to go to the library. But really, she couldn't blame him now. How many nights had he sat beside her while she pored over her chemistry book? How many nights had she told him that she would have to skip the movies in order to study, so he sat with her while she did? She didn't compromise. That was her whole problem. Miss Black-and-White Liz Parker. She missed his arms holding her. She missed being held at all really. She missed that he would be waiting outside her classroom after the bell rang. She missed having a lunch partner. She missed the sweet kisses he gave her. They weren't the all-consuming lip-locks she had imagined when she was a girl, but she was quickly finding out that a lot of things don't turn out to be like you'd always thought they would be.

Resied, she got up and grabbed her flannel pajama bottoms and tank top and went into the bathroom to change.

A moment later she emerged. She was about to get into bed when she realized she still had to check the back door to make sure it was locked.

Wearily, she made her way down the stairs, thinking of what she should bring up to drink before she went to bed. She went to the back door and looked at the lock.

It was disengaged.

Liz sighed, annoyed. Dammit! The new manager Tom was not as reliable as her parents thought. Shaking her head, she clicked the lock shut, going to check the front door. He'd better have locked that one, or there were going to be major problems for him tomorrow morning.

Half stamping, half shuffling across the floor of the restaurant, she ran herself into the front door, looking at the lock. It was engaged. Well at least he got *one* thing right, she thought, when a sharp tap at the glass caused her to jump back from the door.

She looked at the two men outside the door. One of them flashed a badge.

"FBI, Miss," he said. "Open up, we'd like to ask you a few questions."