RANSVESTIA

She nodded, following him to the door. Then, she turned off the library light and left the door just slightly ajar as he went down the hallway.

Sam didn't recognize the young man who stood there. "Dr. Samuel Aaronson?" asked the young man. Even as Sam nodded, the man was presenting him with a California private investigator's license. "My name is Glen Lincoln. I have been hired by Pacific Studios to find a certain person. I have reason to believe that she is here."

Lincoln had already stepped past Dr. Aaronson without an invitation to enter the wide hallway. "I don't know what you're talking about . . ." the old doctor began, pulling at Lincoln's sleeve, but the detective was already off, strolling along the hallway, glancing into the living room, the music room, and up the broad stairway.

"Is she upstairs?" asked Lincoln. "Or . . .?" he turned and indicated the closed door of the library.

Samuel Aaronson had always been a forthright man, and deception was largely beyond him. "Young man," he began firmly, after a momentary pause, intending to tell the detective to get out of his house immediately.

But Glen Lincoln had already turned the knob on the door of the library and entered, despite Aaronson's sudden objections. The detective had to fumble to find the lights switch. He's have recognized Angie Saunders anywhere, but she had made the task so easy, so lovely did she look.

"Miss Saunders," Glen said formally, but he also gave her his best smile.

"Y-Yes," she had retreated across the library floor to a dark, leather armchair. Strangely, she seemed frightened. She shook her long, blone hair at Aaronson.

"This is atrocious!" the older white-haired doctor was shouting. "You can't invade my house in this manner!"

Lincoln glanced over his shoulder. "You want me to leave with this

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