He watches her sleep. The deep heavy breathing of a woman lost in her dreams. He flips through her sketch diary as he watches her, feeling the rough texture of the pages, intended for watercolor not the fine micron she uses. She stirs slightly, rolling over to face him, but she does not awaken. Should he lead her on a little fox hunt, play his little games as he did with dear Clarice? Clarice, the name rings clear in his mind. He has not seen Clarice for years, it was the hand of fate that placed him here when Clarice contacted her. She is so much like Clarice, but she has an understanding that Clarice does not. If she can find the key, she will have the ability to unlock Hannibal Lecter. He looks at the pages before him, such detail. Especially in the eyes. He didn't look through it the night he left the note for her, just placed it knowing she would find it there. The page turns, a quick portrait of herself. The next page, her eyes, a blurred reflection in them. The next, her reflection in his eyes. He can almost see the red glint in them, but they but black and white. He cautiously turns the next page. Blank. Carefully, he unclips the micron from the cover and begins to draw. Her eyes, a reflection in them, but not his. The lamb is centered in the pupils, and a tear trickles from her eyes. Clarice is the key to this one. If she is wise, she will figure it out.

*****

Emily has the faint feeling of not being alone in the house. A buzzing at the back of her skull pushes her out of her dreams, jolting her awake. She bolts upright in bed, breathing heavily and looking around the room. Alone. She groans and runs a hand through her hair, tangled from a restless night's sleep. The curtains are closed, something she rarely does. She slips from beneath the sheets and settles her bare feet on the cold floor. She reaches for her watch, and finds her sketch diary atop her bedside table. Funny, she always put it back in the drawer at night. She picks it up, letting the watch slide off the cover and she opens it, wondering if she is about to find another note inside. Turning pages, glimpses of her detailed drawings, then... A page is missing. The torn edges hooked in the wire binding. The one of her reflection in His eyes. Now, looking back at her, her own eyes, drawn with an exceedingly fine hand. A lamb is reflected in them, a tear trailing from the corner of the eyes. Her eyes. She looks to see a small initial inscribed in one corner.

Footfalls in the hallway as she makes her way downstairs. She grabs the key from the pencil drawer of her desk and opens the oak filing cabinet on the other side of the room. The sketch diary is dropped on top of the filing cabinet as her fingers riffle through the hanging files in the top drawer. There, labeled in her hand 'Lecter, Hannibal'. She pulls the file loose flipping through it, looking. No pictures. Mentions of his artwork, but no examples of it. Emily is on the phone in moments, mentally urging Starling to pick up the line. Finally.

"Starling." her drawl sounds slightly tinny on the phone.

"Its Emily, Clarice. I need to know if you have any drawings Lecter did." she spared the pleasantries, probably for the better.

"Yes, I believe we have a few. Most were sold on the secondary market. Collectors items for the sick and twisted." came the reply. "Why?"

Lecter's voice echoed in her mind. " Do give my regards to Clarice when you speak to her again."

"He's here, Clarice. Dammit." she cursed at herself for not thinking, she'd let her emotions blind her. "I should have called immediately, but…"
The excitement in Starling's voice was weighed equally with dread. "He's there? Now, Emily?" It was tantalizing to know.

"Not now. He is still somewhere in the area. God. I need to see those drawings, Clarice."

"I can fax them to you, but the quality won’t be too wonderful."

"Exactly. I can be there within twenty four hours." Emily offered, hearing the silence of indecision on the other line. In her ear the tone of call waiting beeped. Hurry, she urged silently.

"Okay. I'll have them ready for you tomorrow."

"Thank you. Tomorrow. I have to go, the other line is ringing. Bye." she hung up the phone before Clarice could respond and hit the flash button on the phone. "Hello?"

She was met by the buzz of the dial tone. Sighing she hung up the phone and began to flip through her daytimer. Within the hour she had reservations on United airlines and had a car reserved at Hertz. Upstairs again, packing a suitcase quickly. She hauled the half open case downstairs and threw the Lecter file atop her clothes. Her file with the notes, went into a slim briefcase, along with the sketch diary. She dropped the cell phone and the car charger into the briefcase, the spare battery and desk charger tossed in the suitcase. Lock all the doors, shut the curtains and make sure she had the keys. She had somehow managed a flight that left in six hours. Three on the road to Montpelier and three allowed for security. She grabbed her Lecter tapes as she went out the door, planning to listen to them in the car.

She finally relaxed as she was seated in the first class cabin on the Boeing 737. She had used her frequent flier miles t get the upgrade. Better to work in comfort than with a bratty kid next to her in Coach. She settled into her seat, sliding the briefcase under the seat in front of her as prescribed. Headphones on and another Lecter tape in the Walkman. She never saw Dr. Lecter as he moved past, hand raised slightly, fingers brushing her pale blonde hair like a puff of air.

*****