It wouldn't take much for him to find his footing and chase her. She glanced down at his legs, which were still hanging out of the car. In that instant she had an inspiration: man's greatest physical weakness.

Ess took one quick step closer to him, and, before he could counteract, she lifted her foot and slammed it between his legs. He let out a low-pitched howl. She wished she had been wearing high heals instead of tennis shoes, but her kick was effective enough. Besides, now she needed to run.

Ess turned and dashed through the woods in the direction she assumed the other road to be in. Keeping her balance and jogging at an adequate pace was difficult with her arms bound at her wrists. The night had become cold, and she wasn't clad for it, but adrenaline kept her warm and kept her going.

* * *

Max drove through the darkness, cursing himself for the way this night had turned out. Actually, his cursing extended further back than this evening. It began the day before when his lifelong fixation came crashing down on him. Had he known what his art would lead to, he would never have wrapped his fingers around a chisel or a paintbrush.

Once he caught a glimpse of Esther at the art gallery that day, he couldn't resist discovering more about her. It became important for him to know that she was doing well. He wanted her to be safe and happy. Initially, he told himself that all he intended to do was check up on her from time to time. When, after two weeks, he couldn't pull himself away from his views of Esther leaving work, Esther stopping for coffee, and Esther taking the longer route home so that she could enjoy the effects of the autumn weather on the changing leaves, he realized that he didn't have control of himself after all.

He also began to realize that he wasn't the only one watching her.

Now he drove down the highway, a few miles outside of the city. He couldn't remember the exact location of his destination, since he had only been there once, but he kept his eyes on his surroundings, trying to look for any familiar signs of the turnoff. He doubled back twice already, sure that he must have already passed it.

If one hair on that perfect head so much as appeared out of place, Max didn't think he would be able to contain himself. Esther had given him his first and most significant show of kindness. He swore that, if he ever found her again, he would repay her somehow. If he could do so by helping her like she had helped him, it would be an honor and a privilege. Now, however, this honor could only be tainted with the bitterness of knowing that he put her in this current danger in the first place. What a hard pill to swallow.

His reflections continued to be self-loathing and self-berating as he sped along. All Roden's hard work with him over the years had regressed in the past two short weeks, and the doctor's impending disappointment became another bitter pill for Max.

As his eyes darted around for any familiar landmark that would jog his memory about the turn-off, something in the distance attracted his attention. On the side of the road, he could barely make out an object from the edge of his headlights. As he got closer, it turned out to be human.

The person waved both arms in the air in an awkward looking motion, apparently flagging him down. How unfortunate. A person this far out along the highway, was not likely to meet with many other passersby as the night wore on, and those passersby might be questionable in integrity. He knew he couldn't leave a person in need out here in the woods, even if it interrupted him in his quest. He slowed his car down, and managed to stop on the side of the road just a few yards past the stranded person.

As he got out, he saw the person running towards him. It was a woman, looking rather desperate in her hurried gate, tripping over herself to get to his car. As he stepped towards her, he recognized her. It was Esther!

It couldn't be possible. The very woman he was looking for, the one that slipped through his fingers the first time he tried to save her, now appeared right before him in the middle of nowhere. The opportunity to protect her had literally been delivered to him a second time.

She made it to him, her breath heaving in exhaustion and fear. She tried to speak, to explain herself and to ask for help, but her words were coming out in rapid jumbles. Max had to catch her as she began to collapse in fatigue. He noticed that her wrists were bound together, and the state of her made him angry.

"Don't worry. I've got you." Without saying another word, he guided her into the passenger's seat of his car.

She fell into the seat like a rag doll, where she continued working to catch her breath. Max tried his best to be respectful as he picked up her legs and slid them into the car. He reached over, and fastened her seatbelt around her, avoiding eye contact because his guilt rose at the sight of her suffering. After he saw to her comfort and safety, he shut the door, and ran around the front of the car to the driver's side.

As he opened his door, he heard a metallic bang from behind him in the distance. A moment later, a small object crashed into the open door. Esther screamed in fear, trying to express to her rescuer the need for their hasty departure. Max looked in the direction from which the bang had come. Someone shot at them.

A second shot resounded, and the glass shattered in his back window. He dunked into the car, grateful that he had left it running as he shifted into drive. His foot slammed on the gas pedal, and the wheels squealed and fishtailed slightly as they threw gravel behind them. The car was back on the road in no time. Max glanced back through the rearview mirror, but could see nothing through the shattered glass.

It appeared that Esther had escaped her captor. Max peered at her, impressed at her self-sufficiency in a crisis situation. He knew, however, that they would come after her. They weren't too far behind, and he couldn't be sure they didn't know it was Max who had found her. If they recognized him, it could be harder for him to hide her from them.

Good thing he had the foresight to pack a bag for her.

CHAPTER TEN

This time, Roden watched carefully as Martin picked the lock to Max's flat. He did it quickly, without effort; and the door swung open in a matter of seconds. The entire action was very unsettling.

"What did you say you do for a living?" Roden asked, curious.

"I don't think I did say," Martin replied. He looked up with a teasing grin from his crouched position by the door. As he stood up he continued, "I'm in acquisitions."

Roden stared at him in astonishment. "Acquisitions?" Was that another word for thief?

Martin's grin widened at the doctor's disbelieving expression, but he decided to clarify. "I work for major art dealers and private collectors, obtaining fine art. On occasion, the market is open for contemporary artists. That's why I happened to be at La Donne on 5th when Manda and her friends showed up."

"Ah." Roden noted that the job description didn't exactly explain his lock picking abilities, but he left it alone.

The three reluctant companions headed into the studio apartment. Roden noticed right away that things were not right. Max wasn't a neat freak, but he certainly wasn't a slob, either. Therefore, the current condition of the young man's home shocked his psychiatrist friend. It looked ransacked. The door had been locked, and nothing appeared to be stolen or destroyed; but discarded papers and books were strewn in odd places, closets and cabinets hung open with the contents shoved to and fro, and chair cushions and pillows were tossed haphazardly about.