I spent many hours in the lobby of the police station, chatting with officers going and coming, until finally, McCain was led through the front door by Officer MacRae. She didn't say anything to me as he led her past, only gave me a glare that might have killed me had I not expected it. I noticed that she had a large cast on her arm. Obviously, MacRae had broken it, and obviously, Skweeker blamed it on me. It wasn't my fault, of course; I didn't make her attack me.

After the slam of a cell door echoed through the otherwise silent station, Officer MacRae came strolling back up to the lobby. "That kid wants to talk to ya."

Sighing, I stood from my seat and prepared for the verbal lashing I knew would come from McCain. Amusement apparent on his face, MacRae asked, "What'd ya do to get her all riled up, kid?"

"It's a long story," I answered, turning and heading down the hall.

McCain had been placed in a cell halfway down the long hallway on the left. Anger flashed in her eyes as I stopped in front of the bars.

"He said you - "

"Yeah, yeah. Listen, McCartney, I've about had enough of you. Ain't you been the one screwing everything up?" she snapped.

I could tell she was on a rampage, and normally I wouldn't have interrupted her, but I needed to tell her that I had discovered Marconi.

"McCain, I - "

"Keep yer yap shut, McCartney!" she all but screamed, reaching through the bars to grab ahold of my shirt collar and yank me up against the bars, banging my head on them. I winced in pain before opening my eyes again to stare into her angry face, which was now inches from my own.

"You listen here, you got me soaked, y'hear? Twice! And what's more, none of this murder business happened 'till you showed up! Now I - "

"You shut up, McCain, just SHUT UP!" I screamed, yanking away from her grasp and startling not only her, but myself as well.

She stood there, silent, surprised that I'd taken a stand against her. Feeling more powerful than usual, I went into a rampage of my own.

"It wasn't my fault! I know I made a few mistakes, but I'm sorry! I don't know how many times I have to say it! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! And aren't you the one who never listens to me when I'm the one who's found out where Marconi is and who killed the Galloway boy!"

McCain just stood there, staring at me. Once again, she grabbed my shirt, but she didn't bang my head on the bars again. Pulling me closer, she threateningly whispered, "You'd better tell me now, and you best not be lying, or so help me I'll have yer neck."

Carefully, I retold every detail of my day in Central Park. After a moment, McCain dropped her head and scuffed her feet across the dingy cell floor. "Y'know, McCartney, I - I don't say this much - ever - but...I'm sorry. I'm still mad at ya, but I think it can all be forgiven, considering you solved our mystery an' everything."

I nodded as she looked back up, trying not to show the least amount of shame in the way she had treated me. "But you still haven't told me where Greyson is. I gotta know."

"Down the hallway and to the right, end of the row." I answered.

A rare smile spread across her face. "He's HERE?!"

I nodded. "I only found out today. We spoke. But MacRae doesn't know we're associated."

"Oh, thank you, McCartney, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed, trying to stick her arms through the bars to hug me. When she realized that the large plaster cast wouldn't fit, she stuck her good arm out.

"You're a strange person, McCain," I said, "beating the life out of me one minute and hugging me the next."

"I swear, McCartney, I'll never slug you again! Well, no promises. But you found Greyson! Can I see him?"

I shook my head. "Not unless MacRae suddenly becomes kind enough to let you out of your cell to speak with Greyson Marconi, suspected murderer. You'd be sunk then, and I need you so that we can get him out together."

"Getting him out...I didn't think about that. I haven't wanted to think about it..." McCain sighed, resting her head upon the bars. "How are we gonna do it?"

"The last day of his trial is tommorrow."

"I know. That means we got less than half a day to save him."

The two of us were silent for a moment, contemplating the challenge to come. Suddenly, McCain broke into silent laughter.

"What's the matter?"

After a moment, she looked at me. "McCartney, I had no idea you could yell so loud."