(09/23/00)["George did it."] Someone, a friend (female) died. I am convinced she was killed. I have no evidence. My "ex-husband", a gentleman like Ike Turner is questioning me. He's a cop, undercover, I guess. He is suspicious that I know something. I wonder if he did it. He has a sleek car. I turn to walk away. A young man, very respectful and attracted to me invites me to ride in his car. It's a bright red sexy car. I agree, liking the idea of showing up. "Ike." He will be jealous. When we are in the car, I suddenly realize "George" is the murderer. But I can't prove it. I cagily ask him questions. He now is concerned and watching me carefully. Now we are in a large room. And I am still asking George questions as I look nonchalantly through a box of paper, hoping against hope I find some evidence. Then I find 2 things. A CD George gave my friend and a notebook my friend wrote in. I guess there are coded messages on these and I pull them out. George is getting very nervous now and his eyes narrow as he watches me closely. I tease and bait him like a lawyer until he confesses, because he's convinced I have the evidence.