“Marie? Andy let her come here?” I asked, shocked.

“It appears so. Shall I send her away?”

“No, let her in.” I said. Marie came hopping in.

“It’s my turn Adam!” Marie exclaimed.

“Good, you can help me move him to the guest room.” Hannah said. They lifted me into the guest room. There seated on the bed, I was relaxed. Hannah took my temperature.

“Hannah,” I started, “Have Karin help you move into the room next to mine.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’ll see to it right away.”

“Hi, Adam.” Marie said. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

“Yes, thrilled.” I responded, with a sigh.

“You don’t like me.” She huffed.

“No, Marie. It’s just that every time you see me, you try to hug me.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, it’s just. . .Oh, never mind.”

The days and nights passed rapidly, and the month that the cast had to be on passed. It was August 6, 1980. In my dreams were visions of places, but none to strong. The rotation of my friends continued. Finally, the big day came. My cast was to come off. They took it off and my friends threw a party. Unfortunately, I had to stay in a chair during the whole thing. Four more weeks until I could go back to work, the doctor estimated. Noah had taken over downtown, but no interesting case had come up. Until one day . . .

The phone rang during one of my exercise program. I hobbled down the hall to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Adam?”

“Yes, who is it, Heather?”

“Yes, I’m surprised you remembered. The police have discovered that the palette that was returned was a fake.”

“A fake??”

“Yes. They want you to find it.”

“Me, I can hardly walk.”

“Well, Matt and Noelle can’t remember where they hid it, and you are the only one who could find it.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open. In the meantime, keep the fake in the display.” I said, hanging up. Hannah, who was in the gym, came towards me.

“What’s up Adam?”

“Heather Burnett, the secretary down at the police office, says that the palette that was returned was a fake. They want me to find it.”

“Where could it be?”

“Anywhere in this house.” I responded, picking up the phone.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m calling all my friends. We’ll search the house from top to bottom if necessary. We must find that palette.” I stated, calling my friends. We spent days going over the house from top to bottom. We became discouraged, disheartened, and demoralized. One by one my friends quit the search. There was no telling where the palette was. . .