<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">Cat rattled off the standard queries -- when had Mandy last spoken to her husband, when had she seen him... did she know why he was at the motel, was she aware of any difficulties he had experienced at work.  <br/>
<br/>
"Lou's been... different," Mandy said finally, on a long sigh.  "He started -- I thought he might have started using," she said quietly.  "One of the other wives told me it happens, you know?  Drug cops have the highest rates of addiction."  She looked down at her hands.  "He'd text me the strangest things, about demons and shadows and monsters.  I thought he was just -- using."  She shrugged one bony shoulder.  "But I didn't have any proof, so... I didn't report it.  Was that wrong?"  For the first time, a glimmer of tears showed in the widow's face.<br/>
<br/>
"No, ma'am," Cat said as gently as she could.  "You did what you thought was right."  She rose and extracted a business card from her pocket.  "Please contact me if you think of anything else pertinent -- and I'll stay in touch, when we find out what happened to your husband."<br/>
<br/>
Back in the car, Cat leaned forward and rested her forehead against the steering wheel.  They were parked out of sight of the widow's house or she wouldn't have risked the display of weakness -- but at present, she couldn't maintain.  "Is that what ThreeEye would look like?" Cat asked, not opening her eyes to look at Gabriel.</span></span>