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"Selina," I managed to say.

"Let me try," Quinn said quickly, getting out his own phone. "She knows my number."

I looked to Andy. "What do we do now?"

"We need to track Hasslermund."

"Phone GPS?"

"We don't have..." I could see the 'coon mentally slapping himself. "Fibbies are good for some things."

As he got his own phone back out, Quinn held up a finger, mouthing _voice mail._After a moment, he said carefully, "Salina, call me immediately. Our souls are in danger, from James. I'm safe with the police you spoke to yesterday. Call them, call your own police, just keep away from James. I'll keep checking in." He paused before saying, "I love you, soul-friend."

Reluctantly, he disconnected, putting the phone away. Andy was already updating information with the precinct; they would be able to get officers mobilized in Salina's home city faster, with our Capt. Messenger to connect to the captain there. The whole "going through channels" thing was usually sluggish and hit-or-miss; with Messenger on our side, we'd get fast, decisive action.

"Should we put an officer on Errol's room?" I asked.

With a headshake, Andy said, "Hasslermund has what he wants from him; there's no reason to go back to him. I don't think he's in any further danger."

I didn't feel it necessary to point out how quickly he had gone back to using just our suspect's last name. I was right there with him. "What's next?"

"For starters, we keep Quinn safe." The raccoon turned his most confident glance to the fennec. "Stay with us?"

"Absolutely." Another deep breath, and the songwriter nodded again. "A favor: Is it safe for us to visit Errol? I want to..." He didn't finish the sentence.

"You want to make sure your soul-friend is all right." I gave Andy a quick glance. "So do I."

The detective sighed gently, nodded. "We can do that while we wait for other news."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Quinn arranged to have his rental car picked up from the parking lot in Bonneterre, and the three of us went to the hospital in Andy's car. Conversation was halting and awkward as we tried to keep one another's spirits up. No one's cell phone rang, and we all remembered to put them on "vibrate" before going up to Errol's room. It was one of the times that Quinn was grateful for his comparatively low profile; his songs were well known, but his face was less so. No one disturbed us on our trip through the hospital's corridors.

The wolf's semi-private room now held another patient, an older human woman who seemed to be in reasonably good condition and who was mightily surprised by the presence of the three of us. We nodded politely to her, doing our best not to crowd her. Quinn sat in a chair next to Errol's bed and took his forepaw into his own. The wolf was still, the head of the bed raised to help prevent edema in his upper body and brain.

"Hello, my soul-friend," he whispered softly toward the unconscious ranger's ear. "I'm really hoping that you wake up soon. I need you to be all right."

On the other side of the bed, the wolf's spirit clearly recognized the fennec. I could see connection on the spirit's face or, as I've said before, that's what my mind translated the sensations into. Just to keep Quinn from thinking I was entirely crazy, I looked to Errol's face as I spoke softly aloud.

"There have been some developments. We've lost touch with Salina, and there's been news about... James." I tried not to choke on the name. "We have reason to think that he wants to hurt Salina, and it would help us if you could wake and tell us what you know."

"Our souls are in danger," Quinn whispered urgently. "I still have my hair cuff. I think..." He hesitated, then seemed to reach a decision. "I'm working on a new song. I only have one verse so far, and I'm not sure of the melody. It goes like this..." The fennec breathed gently and put some music to the words he had said earlier. "I traveled, and I found you, not knowing you were there. I gave myself to each of you; you wore me in your hair. You gave yourselves to each of me, you grew by all and by one; then one began to separate, who wanted me alone."

I couldn't control the sudden jerk of my head toward the other side of the bed. The sensation was as much inside me as "visible" to me. The wolf's spirit shook, quivered, as if making a huge effort, moving toward the body on the bed, moving carefully yet insistently. Quinn gave out with a surprised yip, and he looked down at his forepaw. Errol's forepaw had twitched.

Quickly, I turned to Andy. "Nurse's Station. Ask if..." I searched my memory for the name. "Burney, Dr. Burney, see if he's in the hospital."

The 'coon moved away quickly, and I turned my attention back to Errol and Quinn. The fox was whispering calm, encouraging words and phrases, and the monitors that the wolf was hooked into seemed to be registering a little more activity -- pulse rate very slightly higher, blood pressure looked to be coming up a bit as well. He moved his bandaged head just a little, and Quinn told him to lie still, to open his eyes, if he could. Instead, his muzzle moved the slightest bit.

My attention was distracted for a moment, as I saw the back of the fennec's head, and therefore his hair cuff. The stone there, that lapis-like adornment to the cuff, seemed to me to have an inner glow that gave off emotions. I wasn't sure how much of that was due to my perceptions as a Charonite, or as a vulpine, or as a therian, or as a need to believe that I was seeing something nearing the miraculous. I had little doubt that the wolf's spirit would return to his body, that he would wake and continue living on this side of the veil, but to witness it, to have the sense that Quinn's part of the stone would have something do with it (did it?)... that's what felt miraculous.

A flurry of activity from the door had me moving away from the bed to make room for the rapid approach of the ferret. He placed a tender forepaw to Quinn's shoulder. "I'm Dr. Burney; may I ask...?"

The fennec scrambled out of his chair, moving it away from the bed and into the curtain near to the other bed in the room. The doctor moved quickly, checking the reaction of the pupils to light, introducing himself to the wolf, giving proper instructions to lay still for now, welcome back, everything looks good, there's some water here for when you're ready for a sip, try not to move your head too much right now, be slow about it when you do, good, deep breaths through the nose, get the oxygen... As Errol seemed to get stronger before our eyes, he cast a glance toward me, and Quinn moved next to me, the wolf's eyes regarding us both. His jaw worked a little, his tongue trying to work. He cast his eyes toward the doctor and managed the raspy word, water.

Dr. Burney... my brain finally brought up his first name, Leonel brought over the cup with its long straw. "You know the drill?"

Errol brought up the ghost of a chuckle, provided a slow blink rather than nodding, and Leonel guided the straw where it needed to go. The wolf took the tiniest of sips, letting the liquid be absorbed in his maw rather than swallowed. A slightly larger sip, swallowed, and he turned his muzzle away slightly, letting Leonel take away the straw.

"Try..." He cleared his throat gently. "Will try talking."

"Quick medical stuff," the ferret said, running through a list of symptoms, which received negative responses. With a gentle grin, he turned to Quinn. "As you were."

The fennec put the chair back and took up Errol's forepaw into his own again. "I'd kiss you, but I know you don't like the mushy stuff."

"Not in a position to argue." The wolf's eyes held the affection that one feels when in the presence of a loved family member. "What happened?"

Before Quinn could answer, I held up a forepaw, gently forestalling him. "Mr. Esposito, my name is Naomi McLeroy. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Police?" he asked gently.

"CSI, and this," I indicated Andy, "is Detective Anderson Pelletier."

"Thank you." The wolf breathed through his canula again, relaxing himself. "Last thing I remember was James. He came to the cabin." With an effort, he kept himself from nodding. "It was him."

No one needed clarification. Andy excused himself, getting out his cell phone. Hasslermund had gone from "person of interest" to "assailant," and therefore to "murder suspect." The search would be intensified, and Salina's protection would become an even greater priority for the agencies involved.

Between us, Quinn and I helped explain to Errol what had happened. The wolf shed tears at the news of Bridgette's death, whining softly, fighting a need to howl out his pain. Quinn, too, shed tears, and the two of them clasped their forepaws tightly together. It was one of those times when my empathy and sensitivity did not feel like gifts.

It would take time for genuine mourning to take place. Errol forced himself to set the emotion aside long enough to hear the rest of the story, breathing carefully through his nose to get the oxygen from the canula. When Quinn spoke of his impressions of the weekend, the wolf could not stop himself from making a slight nod.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I stayed awake all night. I was on guard. I couldn't have told you why, then. I only knew that we were somehow in danger." He regarded the fennec gently. "We couldn't talk about it. It's what Salina said: Our souls are troubled."

At that point, he raised his right forepaw, looking at it with a sense of longing and loss. It was then that I took my leave, to let family members be alone together.

On my way to the door, I was surprised when the human woman in the other bed signaled for my attention. I leaned closer to her as she whispered, "Please forgive me. Is that Quinn Russo over there?"

When I hesitated, she apologized. "It's very difficult not to overhear, and his voice is quite distinctive. I don't want to seem like some stalker-y fan or something. It's just that his songs helped me to accept my grandson-in-law."

She nodded to a small framed photograph on the bedside table. In it, a lovely young human woman smiled at the camera, holding and being held by a golden-furred otter who shared a smile of his own.

"Well, he's my grandson-in-law now," she continued in a near whisper. "Ten years ago, he was an upstart who had somehow seduced my granddaughter into being..." She paused, blushing furiously. "I'm so very ashamed of those words now. I won't repeat them. You see, it was Mr. Russo's song 'Fur-Given' that started me thinking differently. I didn't know, at first, that he's a fox. The words, the voice, and then..."

Turning back to me, she smiled softly. "I won't keep you, and I won't disturb him. If you get the chance, tell him that I'm one of the souls he's saved. I'm very grateful to him for helping me appreciate all of my family."

I smiled at her. "I'll find a way for you to thank him yourself. I think he'd like to hear that." Especially now, I thought.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Out in the hallway, I caught up with Andy and Leonel having a quiet word. The doctor put a forepaw to my arm as I approached. "There are things I want to talk with you about in greater depth, later on. My biggest question for now is about Mr. Russo. Is all this connected to that stone in his hair cuff?"

Andy looked stunned. I looked the fennec in his eyes, the better for him to feel my deeper message. "It's part of that confidential conversation we'll have later."

The pause was brief. "Thank you," he said softly, his eyes giving yet more information in return. "I know you have work to do. I'll hear from you again soon."

"You will."

With that, the doctor sped off to his next duty, and I turned back to Andy. "He's like me," I said.

A pause, a very soft snort, and the 'coon nodded. "No one's 'like you'," he said with a smile, "but I get the drift. I don't want to leave Quinn alone too long. Short form: No word from Salina nor about Hasslermund, but Fibbies are still trying to get a ping on his phone. No sightings, no idea where he might be, and no indication that he's anywhere near Salina's town, much less home. The locals there tell us that she doesn't seem to be home anyway." Another mental head-slap. "Let me find out if they're trying to ping her phone, too."

Probably, I thought, but it wouldn't hurt to check. I cast a nervous glance back toward Errol's room, trying very hard not to imagine every human male passing by being Hasslermund in disguise. It would make no sense; he was probably trying to find Quinn at his home or studio, in a town far away from here. If not there, then in Salina's home town, trying to find her as fervently as we were. He would be...

Searching.

A series of thoughts slammed together in my head, and I waved at Andy to give me his phone. "This is CSI Naomi McLeroy," I spoke into the phone base as the 'coon gave me his earpiece. "I'm assisting Detective Pelletier. You are, please...?"

"Rogelio Garcia, FBI Cyber Unit."

"Excellent. Agent Garcia, I need you to tell me how difficult it is to ping a cellphone."

"What do you--"

"James Hasslermund is an extremely proficient computer programmer; he knows how to use computers at a very deep level. I'm not savvy about how it works, but could he hack his way into getting the location of a cell phone?"

I saw Andy's eyes grow large, even as the FBI agent said, "If he's good at hacking, he might be able to. Not legally, but..."

"Thank you. Please forgive me being abrupt. We'll stay in touch." I disconnected the call and gave the phone and earpiece back to Andy.

"Could he be that good?" he asked.

"The stone, Andy." I held his gaze. "What's it for? What did it do for each of them?"

As the idea dawned on him, we both moved quickly back to Errol's room. My fears of finding the programmer holding hostages at gunpoint were, happily, not fulfilled. We found instead that the curtain between the beds had been drawn back, both Quinn and Errol talking amiably with the lady in the other bed. All three looked startled by the swiftness of our return.

"News?" the fennec asked.

While Andy excused himself to get back on his phone, I glanced quickly at the lady in the bed before saying, "Some, yes. It might take some explaining..."

Quinn squeezed the lady's hand gently with his forepaw. "I think Mrs. Raines can be trusted with details about the person trying to find me."

"It made me even more afraid to speak to him," the woman told me. "I certainly didn't want to seem, well, stalkerish, and then I find out there really is someone after Mr. Russo..."

"Quinn," he told her softly. "Just remember, this is between us, okay?"

"Absolutely," she promised him. "Not a word."

He looked back at me, and the glance that I flicked toward Errol led me to think that he was in on this subterfuge.

"You know that he's a programmer," I began gently, feeling my way forward to make the story look and sound good. "He may have found a way to ping your phone. We want to make sure you've got us around at all times."

"Is he dangerous?" Mrs. Raines asked, aghast.

Quinn looked at her reassuringly. "It's something personal. He was..." He held back only a moment before plunging ahead. "He was a friend, once. He wants something from me, and he might hurt me to get it." The fennec turned back to me, his look apologetic. "I'm not good at hiding my feelings."

Smiling, I nodded. "I think we all appreciate you for that."

"How can I help?" the large gray wolf asked from his bed.

"By staying here and getting used to being awake." The fennec grinned at him. "Keep Mrs. Raines company. We'll talk to the doctor about when you can go back home."

Errol provided a nimble raspberry, much to Mrs. Raines delight. Quinn rose, gave the wolf a fond goodbye, and we all greeted the officer from the security section of the hospital. Andy had briefed him, and a contingent from the city police would relieve him soon and begin a proper rotation. The fennec promised to be back that evening, and the three of us left for whatever we were going to do next.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We reasoned that Hasslermund was too much a coward to try anything in public. Unless he thought that having all five pieces of the stone would somehow make him invulnerable, he wanted to take them from helpless victims in private rather than in front of witnesses. None of us was certain of his appetite, but Andy and I took the fennec to one of our favorite little haunts, one neither crowded nor isolated, and Quinn very kindly treated us all. For a moment, we worried about his using the payment app on his phone, but we already knew that his phone had been active all this time.

"I guess I could be bait," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Not a great option," Andy said. "And I can't imagine a way for it to work out in our favor. He would be suspicious of any meeting with you, anywhere you would appear to be alone. He's not stupid, and he's probably seen all the cop shows, or enough of them."

"Honestly, I have no idea if he even watches television, movies, whatever. As close as we all were, I really don't know all that much about him." The songwriter shook his head gently. "I hate those mystery shows where someone ends up saying, 'I knew it all along.' I didn't know it, and I don't think the rest of us did. Hindsight..."

"Almost always 20/20," I observed. "Not very helpful, is it?"

The businesslike ringtone of Andy's cell sounded softly. He made sure his earpiece was receiving and answered it. After a moment, he looked at us, startled. "Are you sure?" Then, "What about Hasslermund's?" Several more seconds. "Thank you. Keep me informed." He cut the connection, using a few words in his native Procyon tongue that I couldn't translate directly, but I had a good idea what they meant.

"We've got a problem," he told us, his voice low and hard. "Let's get back to the car."

Hustling us outside, Andy scanned the parking lot quickly but carefully, insisting that I get into the back seat with Quinn. He waited until we were actually on the road again before he deigned to enlighten us.

"Salina's phone shows her here, in the city. They were able to broaden the search to include credit card activity; it showed that she booked a room at the motel near the hospital."

"Errol," the fennec all but shouted. "She's come to see Errol." He got out his phone, looked quickly at me.

"Call," I nodded. "Andy, give us the rest. What about Hasslermund?"

"A move so obvious we should have guessed. He ditched his phone somewhere in his hometown or near it. He has to be using something to ping Andy and Salina's phones, but no one's sure what; probably laptop or tablet, but they haven't back-traced it yet. Naomi, call the hospital, Errol's room. Fastest way to alert the officer there."

I called quickly, actually got hold of the wolf himself. I explained quickly what we'd learned, half-listening to Quinn leaving another voicemail message for Salina.

"What can I do?" Errol asked yet again.

"Stay there, rest; you might hurt yourself if you get up and move too soon."

"Doc said I might be okay to leave this evening, depending."

"Then don't give him any excuses not to let you go. We'll keep you informed. If anyone shows up who shouldn't, the officer will deal with it. Are you okay?"

"I'm worried as all hell, but I'll stay put. I'm stubborn, not stupid. Quinn with you?"

"Never out of our sight."

"Keep it that way."

"Bet on it, Errol."

Disconnecting, I finally had the presence of mind to ask Andy where the hell we were going.

"Right now, just about anywhere. Feels safer to be on the move."

"My house isn't far. Give us a place to rest." Anticipating Andy's objection, I said, "Hasslermund doesn't know me, hasn't got more than a name, so he can't go looking for me."

"He probably could, but if he's pinging Quinn's phone, it won't matter anyway," the 'coon explained. "Better to be in a public place, or at the precinct. Somewhere that Hasslermund won't--"

The ringtone was too melodious, too unfamiliar to be some popular sound. The fennec looked at his phone, his eyes staring. "Salina."

"Speaker," Andy barked, then added, "please."

Nodding nervously, he pressed the symbols on the screen. "Salina?"

"Quinn, are you okay?" The voice was rushed, intense.

"I'm fine. Where are you?"

A muffled cry, then a male voice said, "She's safe enough."

The car lurched a little as Andy tried to maneuver us to the side of the street.

"You're not driving, are you?" the voice asked smoothly. "Not safe to use a cell when driving, unless it's hands-free... oh, excuse me, paws free. Must be correct."

"I'm not driving, James," Quinn responded with more calm than I myself felt.

"Perhaps you're in the company of some friends?" A pause. "Or perhaps it's protective custody."

"He's not in custody." I could not keep the edge out of my voice. "You should be."

"Ah, that's Ms. McLemore, is it?"

"McLeroy."

Andy had pulled to the side of the street, parked, turned toward us in the back seat.

"Oh, do forgive me. McLemore is a singer from my remote youth. Sad that no one seems to remember The 5th Dimension anymore."

"James, what are you doing?" Quinn demanded. "What have you done with Salina?"

"I have four pieces now." Hasslermund ignored the questions. "I want yours."

"Why?"

"I'm sharing some snacks that I brought to Salina's hotel room. Won't you join us?"

"James, what are you--"

"Alone, please. I don't have enough to share with just everyone."

Leaning toward the phone, I nearly screamed, "We can have the police there in minutes. You won't escape, and you won't--"

"You won't find Salina alive, and perhaps four will be enough."

"Quinn!" screamed a voice in the background. "Don't do it! Don't lose your soul!"

With a sudden gesture, the songwriter silenced me. "James, I will come to you, but I'm bringing Naomi with me."

I stared at the fennec, and Andy looked ready to scream. Quinn waved his forepaw frantically again as Hasslermund replied.

"Why?"

"I want her with me."

A long pause. "Unarmed, of course."

"I'm a CSI," I said. "I do not carry a weapon."

"Do you count your claws?"

"I have claws as well, James," Quinn said softly. "I don't intend to use them."

"And your police back-up?"

"No police. You have my word." Both I and Andy looked at Quinn as if he were insane. "I don't know how long you'll remain free after you leave the room, but you won't find police at the door."

"This is just between us, Quinn," the human's voice oozed. "About our souls."

"Yes."

Another pause. "How long before you get here?"

"We'll park in the hotel garage," I said. "Perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes from where we are now."

"Very well. Room 427. Do be on time."

The call ended with an electronic sound that reminded me of water going down a drain. I didn't like the connection it made in my mind.

"What--" Andy began.

"I need you to trust me," Quinn said quickly. "I understand now what this is about. I know what has to happen." He looked at me. "You do, too. You may not know it yet, but you know."

"Hasslermund has to answer for his crimes," Andy spat.

"He will. I can promise you that."

"But how? You're letting him go..."

"No." The fennec looked at us, one after the other. "He won't escape. We can't escape what we desire."

"Quinn," I said softly, "I still don't understand."

"Let's get to the hotel. Andy, I want you to promise me that you won't be outside the motel room door, waiting for him. I think you can be on the same floor, near the elevators or somewhere, but not near the door. Be close by, just not too close."

"Tell me," I asked him. "What are we doing?"

He sank back against the seat and breathed evenly. "We're going to a reunion."