'What ..." Jenny's voice cracked. She tried to clear her throat. 'What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"But ..." she had to swallow again. 'Why? I mean, what ..." Jenny shook her head. Had she left her mind somewhere up on the bluff? She couldn't hold onto a single thought long enough to get it out.

"Don't bother talking," Dean told her. "It's probably better if you don't say anything."

"I have to talk," Jenny managed to blurt out. "You don't know ... or do you? You must. Why else would you be up here looking for me?"

"I don't know what?"

'What's been happening!" Jenny flung her hand out, gesturing at David. She was still clutching the rock she'd hit him with, and she held onto it, turning it over and over in her hands as she tried to put a coherent sentence together. "He was after me. He tried to kill me. And he would have if I. . ."

"If you hadn't bashed him in the head?" Dean smiled at her and his voice was cool. "Poor David."

"Poor... ?" Jenny couldn't help feeling outraged. His sympathy was definitely in the wrong place. She was the one who'd just gone through hell. And what about Diana?

Dean had moved up onto the rock and was standing there, still watching her. Jenny frowned at him. He was awfully calm for somebody who'd just found out that one of his friends was an almost-murderer. Of course, he might be in shock. But he didn't look shocked. In fact, he looked satisfied, even pleased. Pleased with himself, as if he'd just solved a tricky problem.

She frowned at him again. She hadn't noticed it before, but now Jenny saw that Dean was dressed in black. Black jeans, black sneakers, a black, long-sleeved pullover. The only Ught spots were his hair and face. And his hands, clenched into fists.

Jenny's head was clearer now, and as she stared at Dean, her mind filled with questions. "I don't understand," she said.

"Understand what?"

"Why you were looking for me. And how you knew where to look." She gestured toward David. "Why you're not more upset about him, why you don't seem the least bit worried, or relieved, or whatever you should be feeling now that it's -- "

"Now that it's over?" He smiled again. He said, "But it's not over, Jenny. Not yet. Haven't you figured that out?" His voice had changed while he

talked, back to the one Jenny had heard when she'd come running to meet him, and earlier, on the answering machine. Back to the soft voice of her secret admirer.

Now it made sense. The black clothes, the sudden, unexplained appearance, the cool comment about David. It was Dean who'd called her up here, Dean who'd pushed her, who'd waited until daybreak to find her again. Jenny's eyes widened as she realized the danger she was in.

"I see you've figured it out now," Dean said. "I probably shouldn't have waited until you did. It would have been easier on you. But I guess I just wanted to see it through."