 
On any given day life is a challenge, at best. For Marla Winters, found beaten on the side of the road, it's a downright miracle. To look at her smiling face and cheery demeanor one would never know she has no idea where she comes from or what her real name is. She insists on staying in the present until her past comes hurtling toward her with a vengeance. A past she has no memory of, knowing only that she was found at the side of the road, beaten and battered, with only the torn and tattered clothes on her back. New in town and running from a nasty divorce, Peter Jensen is skeptical of Marla Winters claims of danger. As the cop assigned to her case, he's confident he can get to the bottom of it. When Pete digs deeper into her past, what he never expected to find was love. But solving the mystery surrounding Marla proves more difficult than he thought, as does keeping her alive...

NO LOOKING BACK

By Patricia Gauthier

Copyright 2012 Patricia Gauthier

Smashwords Edition

Copyright Excerpt Refusing to Repent 2012 Patricia Gauthier

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Other Titles by Patricia Gauthier

Celebration of Life – Book One of the Celebration Trilogy

Celebration of Love – Book Two of the Celebration Trilogy

Celebration of Passion – Book Three of the Celebration Trilogy

No Looking Back

Refusing To Repent

VISIT HER WEBSITE:

http://www.patriciagauthier.com
CHAPTER 1

"Hi, may I help you?" Or "What can I get for you?" rolled off Marla's tongue a million times a day. Marla always said it with a smile and gave each customer her full attention. She loved everything about running her own bakery. The smells were incredibly mouth-watering, blending together a variety of freshly baked bread, chocolate macadamia cookies, apple dumplings with warm carmel sauce, and, her all time favorite, cinnamon rolls. The bakery, Sin-A-Mon & Spice, was the first and only organic bakery in her small but busy town of Wynott, population 15,000. Oh, make that 15002, Lucy at the diner just delivered twins last week. Marla loved that she knew all the business owners on a first name basis, even delivering to a few every morning. She loved learning everyone's little quirks and personal habits that made them unique. John Martin liked his morning coffee very strong and black but had a glass of milk on the side, along with his toasted everything

bagel. Lizzie Michaels could be counted on to show up every morning at eight sharp for her free bagel with egg scramble and cup of coffee. She'd had a very rough road to recovery from a recent injury and money was tight, so Marla went through the motions of ringing her up, allowing her to maintain her pride.

All of her regular customers knew they could count on her to get their orders quickly, so they were in and out the door in no time. She had Megan working the coffee station and Grace and Laura at the counter with her every morning. Betsy worked in the back as the head baker. She was like a mother to all of them, always having her shoulder available to cry on and, if necessary, a swift kick in the ass when needed. She was Marla's main source of information, okay gossip, with a 100% accuracy record. It amazed her that her baker was so well informed, and never had contact with any of the customers during working hours. Betsy knew everything! She had been invaluable to Marla when she first opened the business, helping her place names with faces, along with a short summary of each person's life. Nothing nasty mind you, Marla didn't like that kind of talk, but who was married to whom and where they lived in relation to the bakery. Stuff like that. Occasionally she'd let something slip about a bad break-up they were going through or speculating about a pending divorce and the story behind it.

Marla realized right away that people didn't care if her bakery was all organic and no genetically modified ingredients were used, they only cared about how it tasted. She insisted on organic and no GMO because she knew those were the best possible ingredients she could use. They tasted the best, most like 'grandma's' baking, and she insisted on the best for her customers. She felt good about selling quality products and that was all that mattered to her. It was more work doing things organically. Products had a shorter shelf life or had to be delivered daily instead of weekly, but Marla didn't mind. The bakery was her life. If she had friends before she was found by the side of the road three years ago, beaten, bloody and unconscious she had no memory of them. The only thing she had with her was a handbag and the torn and tattered clothes on her back. She had no idea how she'd gotten there or where she had come from. She was terrified at first. Realizing she had nowhere to go and no one to call for help, completely alone with no memories to draw from left her empty and desperate. Word of her dilemma got around quickly, probably with the help of Betsy, and the town embraced her immediately. Before she knew it, she had clothes, a place to live, and people who genuinely cared about what happened to her. She got a job at the grocery store, sold baked goods out of her kitchen and took private cleaning jobs on the side. Soon Marla had earned a reputation as a hard and honest worker. After two years of saving and slaving for other people, she'd decided to open her own business, and since she had a love for baking and a good clientele from working out of her kitchen at home, she decided on the bakery. Sin-A-Mon & Spice had been an immediate success, first out of curiosity on the part of the town, and then because her products were delicious and creative. She was always adding new items to the menu, usually based on the seasonal crops available, along with the standard breads and rolls of most bakeries. She never wanted to be stagnant about her selections. That was boring, and she was anything but boring.

Today's scuttlebutt around town was about the new police officer that had been hired from New York City. Marla chuckled silently as she heard bits and pieces of speculation about him. Three female employees from the bank conversed in front of her as if she weren't even there, too excited to tell each other what they knew about the man.

"I heard that he's single and was wounded in New York and that's why he's coming to Wynott."

"Really? Someone told me he was married but separated from his wife."

"Jessica saw him unloading a box from his car but she couldn't get a good look at his face. She said he's tall through." All three of them wandered out of the bakery still chatting animatedly.

Curiosity was high about his circumstances and, to everyones frustration, he was not very forthcoming with information about himself. Nothing incited curiosity like secrecy, and several citizens were crawling around on the internet trying to dig-up anything they could on Peter Jensen. Never mind that they'd never even laid eyes on the man, who was moving here this weekend. It was for the safety of the town, they argued, as the group exchanged information as if it were a town meeting instead of the lobby of the town bakery. Marla chuckled to herself, knowing there were more than a few pairs of binoculars being pulled out of drawers around town for the big arrival of Peter Jensen. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for. Oh, they'd be friendly all right, too friendly. She knew from experience that he would barely have a minute to himself as 'friendly' citizens made a point of introducing themselves, sometimes at all hours of the day and night. Marla had been through it already and was thankful she was still alive to talk about it. They all meant well, and without their support and encouragement she would have never made it through her ordeal. At least she hoped she'd made it through. Not knowing who you are, where you came from, or how you got there had been hard for her to accept. Finally after a year of investigation by the police, and even a couple of private investigators Marla had hired, she was no closer to answers than the day she had been found on the side of the road. Eventually Marla decided that it really didn't matter where she had come from as much as how she lived her life now. She knew the police and FBI had no record of her fingerprints so that was good news. She made the conscious decision to look forward instead of back, happy with the life she had created out of nothing.

Monday mornings were busier at the bakery than most other days. People had a tendency to linger, chatting and catching up on the latest 'news' that had occurred over the weekend. Today was no exception. She took a moment to adjust her long auburn hair that was working its way out of the bun she had wrapped it up in earlier that morning. She was pushing in a few pins when she suddenly noticed that the bakery had fallen perfectly silent. Marla turned toward the crowd slowly, a shiver running up and down her spine at the eerie silence. A tall, handsome to the point of Adonis, muscular man, approached the counter. Marla realized this must be Peter Jensen. He reeked sex appeal and authority with his dark hair slicked back, still drying and hanging slightly on the collar of his crisp white shirt. He wore a black and white striped tie and black dress slacks with shiny black loafers. This guy's persona screamed cop or her name wasn't Marla Winters, okay, maybe her name wasn't really Marla Winters. His mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes effectively, reflecting back to Marla her own reflection. She swallowed hard and immediately stepped up to the counter to wait on him.

"Hi, may I help you?" Marla asked cheerfully. No smile was returned as his deep baritone voice snapped curtly.

"What's good?"

"Nothing's good. Everything's exceptional." She replied instinctively.

He looked at her and paused. Apparently he didn't notice that everyone was hanging on his every word.

"Funny, looks just like every other bakery I've ever been in." He shrugged his muscular shoulders.

Could this guy be any more rude? Marla took an instant dislike to him but pushed her feelings aside, firmly planting her feet while gathering her defenses.

"I'll tell you what, apparently you're not familiar with our products, so I'll give you your choice for free today and if you don't like it, you don't have to come back. Ever." She hoped he hated whatever she gave him. Marla chose a man- sized strawberry swirl cinnamon roll with strawberry glaze that was being featured this week and carefully put it in a bag.

"Would you like a cup of coffee, tea, or hot chocolate with that, gratis of course,"

She asked as she walked over to where Megan was standing at the ready with a cup in hand.

"Coffee, black," Peter answered, still without smiling. His lips pressed together tightly in a grim line. Jeez, does this guy even know how to smile?

Marla grabbed the empty cup from Megan's hand, filling and capping it quickly. She handed everything to him with a fake smile and instructed him to "have a good day" without much conviction.

Peter turned and walked out the door without even uttering so much as a thank you. Everyone just stared at each other, then at Marla, to try and read her reaction. She shook her head and smiled to herself, blowing out her breath, praying that he wouldn't come back. She pasted back on her smile and began waiting on customers, refusing to add fuel to what she was sure was already shaping-up to be quite a fire around town for the gossips. She wasn't going to let one bad apple spoil what was turning out to be a beautiful summer day. She would hear all about how the town felt about her encounter with Peter Jensen tomorrow from Betsy.

********

Peter hated starting a new job. He knew he'd be stuck at some desk somewhere, expected to pour over policy and procedure manuals until his eyes crossed. Meeting new co-workers and being expected to be polite and cordial when he really felt just the opposite. Pete was not a people person. He was a highly skilled investigator who had paid his dues long ago in New York as a beat cop, working his way up the promotion ladder one rung at a time. Pete had liked living in New York overall. Everyone was a stranger and he liked it that way. A city filled to the brim with people smart enough to mind their own business and keep their distance. What he didn't like was the high cost of living and the fact that the only way to get promoted now at the NYPD was if someone died or retired. He didn't want to wait fifteen years for another promotion. That was the only way to move up in New York, by filling someone else's shoes when they left.

By moving to Wynott, a growing community that wasn't so small he'd be bored, he hoped to advance faster without the excessive hours he would have been expected to work in a big city. He had other interests besides police work and he wanted the better balance of work and play a small town could afford him. Plus he wouldn't have to drive for hours to find a stream to dip his fishing line into or woods to hunt in. He looked forward to the peace and quiet of Wynott, one thing he never liked about the big city was the noise and confusion of the streets. No matter how hard you tried to block the noise, it followed you everywhere and at all times of the day and night, with that combination of exhaust fumes and rotting trash from overflowing dumpsters along with the noise. Blech! He shivered at the thought and took a bite of the huge roll he'd gotten at the bakery. Holy shit! He closed his eyes and savored the flavors bursting inside his mouth. This was, bar none, the best pastry he had ever tasted in his life! He decided he could put up with the chipper attitude from the bakery help for one of these every day. What did the woman at the counter have to be so happy about anyway? He didn't see the need to inflict her happy little attitude on people that definitely weren't morning people. It was aggravating and annoying to people like him, but by the time he finished his roll he was in a much better frame of mind. He had to admit she was beautiful even though she was obviously a morning person. She was a beauty even with her hair falling out of the bun on the top of her head. The rich auburn color looked silky, soft and shiny. When she smiled even her eyes twinkled happily. She was tiny but shapely with her ample breasts pulling slightly at the fabric of her shirt. Watching her wait on the previous customer told him she was a spitfire. He liked feisty women, but thinking like that could lead to trouble he didn't need right now. Women weren't part of his game plan right now, if ever.

Pete savored the coffee as he drove to his first day of pure hell, thankful that at least he'd had a good final meal. He parked his car and downed the last sip of coffee for courage, and pressed onto his destiny.

The greeting he got at the police department was pretty much the same that he'd gotten from the townsfolk at the bakery, complete silence. He introduced himself to the officer at the desk and waited patiently for someone to lead him back to a desk or cubbyhole of some sort. Instead he watched a tall, slim fortyish woman approach him with her hand already extended for a shake.

"Inspector Jensen? I'm Captain Janet Perkins. Welcome aboard." She smiled conservatively as she shook his hand firmly but briefly. She seemed stoic and all business, just what he looked for in a supervisor. All business. Good.

"Please follow me." Captain Perkins motioned down the hall, holding the door open for Pete to enter.

The rest of the day went downhill from there. If he thought reading manuals was bad, he soon found out nothing was worse than crossing guard duty. He was sent out to deal with crying, whining, snotty kids being escorted to his corner by overprotective parents who thought their precious little babies could do no wrong. Not once. Not twice. But three times in one day. Give me the policy and procedure manuals anytime over this crummy duty.

********

After three weeks of stopping at the bakery every morning, Pete found himself searching for Marla behind the counter. He knew her name only because of the nametag she wore, since they never exchanged many words in the morning. She usually had his order waiting for him on the take-out counter and he found himself looking forward to the delicious surprise she packed for him every day. Their only exchange was at the cash register when she thanked him while she gave him his change. No more chipper attitude, which he appreciated. He was usually in and out in less than three minutes. Tops. Today, although his order was still waiting for him as usual, he couldn't find her anywhere and was disappointed when Megan rang-up his order.

"Marla's day off, today?" He asked Megan as she handed him his change. She was stunned for a moment that he had spoken, and then answered briefly.

"She never has the day off. She's in the back helping Betsy." Pete assumed that Betsy was the boss. He turned and walked out without comment. As he savored the blueberry concoction Marla had packed for him, he berated himself for feeling cheated out of seeing her today. He never realized how much he looked forward to seeing Marla, assuming it was the food that attracted him. Why should he even care who waited on him? He refused to accept that the little town was starting to grow on him. Just the thought of it made his stomach lurch uncomfortably. After his divorce five years earlier Pete was determined to not care about anyone or anything but himself. He had given and given to his ex-wife, Alicia, but it had never been enough. After the divorce he decided that he couldn't be held responsible for other people's happiness, so he concentrated on number one. Himself. Vowing never to put himself in that position again, he had transformed himself into a taker instead of a giver. Honestly though, he couldn't say he was any happier now than when he had been with Alicia, there was just a lot less drama now. He certainly didn't miss the drama. Finished with his trip down memory lane Pete headed for his office. Finally, he was getting to do some actual police work. He had no idea how much he'd regret that thought in the days to come.
CHAPTER 2

Marla happily anticipated going home to her three best friends, Larry, Moe, and Curly. Something about coming home to her dogs settled her. They made her feel needed and wanted. One thing she loved about her dogs was that no matter how bad her day had been, seeing all of them immediately put a smile on her face. They loved her unconditionally and she felt the same about them. All of them had been rescues, Marla included. She had a sweet set-up for them and she never had to worry about them being locked-up too long. A pet door in the laundry room led out to a large fenced backyard that they had full access to all day and night. She had installed automatic feeders and waterers, so they never went without. The added benefit of feeling safer with them there was just icing on the cake, so to speak. Larry intimidated by size and Moe by temperament. Curly's job was to sound the alert and dance around the other two dogs. Marla knew anyone who thought Curly was dangerous was just plain stupid. He was a very small mixed breed and his tongue hung out the side of his mouth constantly, even with it shut. Marla knew the minute she'd set eyes on him that she couldn't leave him behind. Curly was an excellent judge of character when it came to strangers. If Curly liked you he didn't hesitate to let you know by kissing you enthusiastically with his lolling tongue. If he didn't like you he would run to Moe and bark at him until Moe intimidated the person to Curly's satisfaction, usually backing them into a corner to cower until Marla shooed him away.

Marla knew something was wrong the instant she walked through the door - no dogs came rushing up to greet her. She froze just inside the front door and listened for any sign of the dogs, calling out to them. She heard barking and scratching from the other side of the closed laundry room door. That door was never closed. Marla kept a very heavy rock in front of it to keep it open so the dogs weren't closed off from their food and water. Someone had to have moved that rock. Marla pulled out her cell phone and called the police, explaining that there was a possible breaking and entering at her house. She was instructed by the 911 operator to wait outside for the police to arrive. When an unmarked car came barreling up the driveway Marla was surprised to see Pete Jensen charging out the door, gun drawn.

"Stay here, I'll check the interior." He instructed her quickly as he entered her house. Since it was just a small, two bedroom bungalow it didn't take long for Peter to make his rounds. He came to the front door and motioned her in through the screen door.

"Everything looks fine. What makes you think someone broke in?" Pete asked while he pulled a notebook and pen from his pants pocket.

Today was the first time Marla had ever seen him without his reflective sun glasses on and was taken aback by the deep blue color of his eyes. He was stunningly handsome and she had to stop herself from drooling openly. She swallowed hard before answering.

"The laundry room door is closed and I never close it. I even keep a big rock in front of it to keep it from closing out the dogs." Marla realized immediately that it sounded lame, even though it was real. He walked over to the door and opened it before Marla could warn him about the dogs. They were on him in seconds, greeting him happily as Curly tried to jump up high enough to give him his kisses. He barely acknowledged them as he looked at Marla incredulously.

"That's it? You called because a door was closed?"

"Yes. Like I said though, I never, ever close it. I knew the second I opened the front door that something was wrong. The dogs didn't greet me and they always do. Someone wanted them to stay out of the house, I just know it." Marla was starting to get upset. Peter Jensen just plain made her nervous, sensing his judgmental attitude. Of all the cops on the force they had to send him, mister no personality.

He checked all the doors and windows for any signs of forced entry.

"Are all the other doors and windows the way you left them?" Pete asked, trying hard to hide his irritation.

Marla checked around the house quickly before answering.

"Yes, they're fine." Marla nervously began to twist the bottom of her shirt in her hands. She couldn't explain the panic that was taking her over. Her breathing became labored and her chest felt like a heavy weight was on it. Soon dizziness set in from lack of oxygen. That was her last thought before she hit the floor, passed out cold.

When Marla felt someone tapping insistently on her cheek her eyes began to flutter open. She was on the couch and had no idea how she'd gotten there. De ja vu' struck her hard. She bolted upright, only to fall back again when the dizziness overtook her. Peter had a glass of water in his hand and was sitting on the edge of the couch with her.

"Here. Drink this." He thrust the glass into her hand and she did as instructed. She sat up gingerly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't even see that coming. Thanks for the water," Marla stammered.

"You had a panic attack but you'll be all right in a few minutes. I don't see any signs of forced entry but I'll send out the fingerprint crew just in case. Are there anyone else's fingerprints we might find that belong here?" Pete held his breath, waiting for the answer and not knowing why.

"No. Just mine, I live alone."

Relief suddenly flooded him.

"Is there anyone that you can think of that might have done this? Do you keep anything of value here?" Pete asked calmly.

It occurred to Marla to explain how she had come to live in Wynott, but decided it probably didn't have any bearing on this incident. If he needed to know she was sure someone else at the police department would fill him in.

"No, I have no idea who may have done this and I don't keep anything valuable here."

"Well, let's see what the CSI team finds out. I'll be in touch if I have any more questions." Peter turned and walked out the door without another word. He was pissed to have been sent. Any rookie could have handled this with his eyes closed.

Pete stormed his way back into the police department and headed straight for the Captain's office, barging in without knocking. His face was red with fury.

"Why was I sent out on this call? Any blind rookie could have handled this and you know it! I paid my dues back in New York and I expect to be treated with more respect than this!" Pete was yelling and he didn't care if the whole world heard him. Captain Perkins just sat there with her fingers laced together, patiently waiting for him to finish his tirade.

"Are you done?" Captain Perkins asked.

"For now, yes."

"Good. First, I don't allow people to storm into my office without knocking, let alone yelling their heads off. If you have a problem in the future you will follow proper procedure. Period. Second, no one is above any assignment in this department. We're a small town and we work together. When we were short on staff I was answering calls and manning the front desk just like everyone else here. Third, and finally, this case is a special circumstance and I felt someone of a higher caliber was called for."

Captain Perkins pushed out of her chair with a huff. Walking over to the window she clasped her hands behind her back. Her tone softened considerably as she continued.

"Marla Winters showed up on the town's doorstep three years ago. She has no recollection of her previous life or how she got here. She was found on the side of the road unconscious, beaten and with only the clothes on her back and a handbag. We investigated for over a year and we don't know where she came from any more today than we did the day she was found. There's a possibility it could be related to her past so I sent an experienced investigator. Did you find out anything?"

Now that Pete understood the Captain's intentions better he let out a slow gust of air, allowing his anger to go with it.

"No signs of forced entry. Seems the reason she felt invaded was because her laundry room door was closed and she swears she always keeps it propped open with a big rock. After she passed out on me and I got her up and going again I promised her I'd send CSI to check things out. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She's an exceptionally neat housekeeper and everything seemed to be in place." Peter concluded. Now that he had more information he found himself convinced that someone probably had perpetrated at least a home invasion. His gut told him something sinister was going on.

"All right. Keep me posted. Marla's not an alarmist so I believe her, but everyone makes mistakes."

Pete got the hidden meaning and nodded his head in agreement, leaving her office a little more humble. Instead of sitting at his desk thinking about the possibilities of a break-in, Pete found himself going over his analysis of the lovely Marla's fine form. She was a cute, tight little package, slim but not skinny, with all the right curves in all the right places. Of course she smelled incredibly good, like the delicacies she created--irresistible. What surprised him was how well her body fit with his when he had carried her to the couch. Her skin was soft and creamy as new milk, flawless is what came to mind. Pete liked the fact that she was petite and perky, unless she was passed out on the couch. He loved the rich color of her long auburn hair, it was thick and luxurious even in the ever-present bun she wore it in. He allowed himself to fantasize about how far down her back it would go once it was released from its pins. He wanted to take the pins out himself and watch it tumble down her back, then play with it, bury himself into it... Whoa boy. Settle down here and keep your eyes on the business at hand. Pete forced himself to stop before he broke out in a sweat right there at his desk.

Marla hadn't heard any news about the results of the fingerprint analysis and she didn't want to ask Peter in front of the customers at the bakery. She had only told her friends who worked with her about the incident, swearing them to secrecy. It always amazed her how a story could start out one way and when you heard it repeated a couple of days later it would be barely recognizable. People add and subtract information liberally and Marla didn't want to be the source of a town panic attack at the thought of a crime spree starting. People, no matter where tended to overreact. She decided to stop into the police station after the morning rush and see if she could get any answers. Pete came in and grabbed his order in his usual gruff manner, paid, and was out the door within a minute. Well, so much for worrying about any conversation that might upset the town.

Marla filled a couple of boxes with a variety of baked goods to take with her to the police station. She hated wasting food and always donated the leftover's, rotating between the homeless shelter and nursing home. Today she would add the police department into the rotation. What went better together than cops and donuts? She chuckled to herself at the stereotype.

After she walked into the police station and asked to see Peter. She handed the baked goods to the officer working the desk, explaining that they'd just go stale if someone didn't eat them. They, of course, were happy to comply. Peter sauntered slowly to the desk. He moved like a panther and Marla caught herself staring at him while inappropriate thoughts flashed quickly through her mind. He was definitely handsome and sexy. That is, until he opened his mouth, then he was rude and arrogant.

"Marla, follow me. We'll talk in one of the interrogation rooms."

The room was stark white with one large table and four folding chairs arranged around it. Two on each long side of the table. The black tiles on the floor were old and worn, visible scuff marks showed where the chairs had been continually dragged over its surface. Bright florescent lights hung from the ceiling, punctuating the bland décor.

"Have a seat. I just got the report from the fingerprint team." He took a few seconds to scan the report before speaking again. "Apparently there were some fingerprints found around the edges of the pet door, both interior and exterior. They're running them through our database for possible matches. Would the dogs allow someone into the yard?" Peter asked.

"Not unless someone bribed them and I think I have a good idea of how they did that. Moe can't tolerate rawhide bones, even though he loves them. He threw up bits of one later that night. I didn't think anything of it until now. I just assumed one of the neighbors had given him one through the fence, but they know he can't tolerate them. So now what happens?" Based on the bland, bored look on his face Marla assumed he still wasn't convinced someone had broken in.

"We'll have to see if we get a match on the prints. You haven't thought of anyone who may have done this, some ex-boyfriend or someone else with a grudge, maybe an employee that you fired?"

"No. My memory doesn't work that well though, so we can't go by that. Has anyone else had any break-ins lately?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Why did you faint the other day?" Pete asked bluntly.

"I assume they filled you in on my circumstances. After they found me at the side of the road with a concussion the doctors said it may happen occasionally without explanation." Marla said cautiously, feeling guilty about not having told him everything herself.

"Yes, they did, but not until after I'd got back to the station. It would have been better if you had told me while I was there though. Is there anything else you're not telling me?" Pete phrased it to make sure Marla knew he didn't appreciate not being told up front.

"No. I thought maybe you already knew, this being a small town and all, but you're right, I should have told you." Marla confessed but didn't apologize.

"Will your boss be mad at you for taking time off to come and talk to me? We could go back to the bakery and talk if that works better for you?" After a few seconds it dawned on Marla that Pete had no idea that she was the owner of the bakery. She knew he wouldn't take the news very well.

"Umm, I'm the owner of the bakery Pete. Didn't you know that?"

"No. If I had known I would have gone to the bakery and questioned some of the employees. It would have been helpful to know." Pete snapped.

She expected the anger but it still put her on the defensive, causing her to lash out before thinking things through.

"I guess you're not the crack investigator they thought you were when they hired you then. All you had to do was ask, it's not a deep dark secret. Let me know if your highly skilled detective work turns up any new information." Marla stood and started to pounce out the door.

"You know, you don't have to bribe me with baked goods to get me to do my job. And I will have more information for you soon." Pete was standing now, his lips spread thin with anger and his hands on his hips. He knew he should be more angry with himself for not asking the right questions, but she just pissed him off with all her secrets.

"FYI the donuts are for everyone at the station, not just you." Marla stormed out of the room and waved goodbye to everyone as she walked out of the building. Everyone turned an accusing stare onto Pete when they realized she was upset. One guy even made a physically impossible suggestion with his finger to Pete as he walked by.

She charged into the bakery, glad that there weren't any customers because the last thing she felt like doing was being nice and smiley. The more she thought about Pete and his attitude the more it pissed her off. She found Betsy sitting in the bakery with a cup of coffee and staring at the ovens, as if willing them to do something extraordinary.

"Betsy, can I talk to you for a minute? I need to vent." Marla didn't wait for an answer before she started her monolog of her meeting with Pete. When the story was out she looked to Betsy for some pearl of wisdom. She got nothing.

"Well! Don't you think he was out of line?"

"No, you started it with the crack about him being a crummy detective. From my point of view you owe him an apology. Sorry, kiddo." Betsy shrugged her shoulders in apology.

Marla thought about it for a minute before defending herself, and then realized she had no defense. Pete was new in town and she shouldn't have assumed he knew information about her. She took a deep breath before looking back to Betsy.

"You're right. I forgot how it is to be new in town. Without your help I could never have kept everyone straight when I opened this place. The guy just gets on my last nerve, he's so rude. I've never once seen him smile or chat with anyone." Marla lamely pointed out, trying to justify her behavior.

"The problem is you're attracted to him, and when he doesn't show you any attention it frustrates you." Betsy said this very calmly and matter of fact.

"What? You think I like him?"

"No, I said you're attracted to him, sexually. Can't you feel the electricity in the air sizzle when you two are in the same room together? Why do you think you're avoiding him by having his order ready for him every morning?" Betsy spoke as if Marla were mentally slow.

"I do it as a convenience for a customer." The air had flown out of Marla's sails as she finished her sentence. She didn't do it for anyone else but him. "Man, I hate it when you're right!"

Betsy chuckled as she got up to remove some pans from the oven.

"Even if I am attracted to him there's nothing I can do about it anyway."

"Why not, for crying out loud? Because you think there's a possibility that you might have a husband out there somewhere? Don't you think if someone was looking for you they'd have found you by now? Three years of living out in the open, running your own business, and looking yourself surely would have turned up something by now. I think it's pretty safe to assume you were single when you got dumped here. You had earrings on, but no ring, which tells me whoever dumped you didn't give a shit about any jewelry you might have been wearing, let alone you. You're a young woman. What was the estimate the doctors gave you? Twenty seven? Tops. Are you planning to spend the rest of your life alone and celibate just because you don't know about your past? That's just plain stupid."

"I just feel like it's being deceitful somehow." Marla confessed.

"It's nothing that couldn't be worked out if the situation ever comes around. Honey, don't waste your life by working yourself to death. There are so many other wonderful things to experience that you're dismissing. Do you ever think about your future in any other terms besides work?" Betsy asked kindly, like a mother would.

"No, I don't dare go there, it's too depressing." Marla whispered. "Think about it, please. There's more to life than work. I think any man that had you would be luckier than he probably deserved and you'd be an exceptional mother. Don't exclude those possibilities Marla; they're all part of life." "I promise I'll think about it."
CHAPTER 3

Marla pulled into her driveway and was surprised to see Pete Jensen standing at the fence, petting her dogs and talking happily to them until he realized she was there. Immediately, he switched back into all business cop mode. Marla joined him at the fence and started petting Moe.

"Hi, I'm glad you're here, I believe I owe you an apology for earlier today. I was way out of line with the cracks about you not being a good cop. I'm really, really sorry, they were uncalled for."

"Don't worry about it. I came by with some news about the case." Pete needed a few minutes to gather his thoughts. The apology had totally thrown him off. He hadn't expected it. His mouth went suddenly dry when he noticed that Marla had taken her hair out of its bun and it now hung in glorious waves all the way down to her tiny waist. He fisted his hands to stop himself from plunging them into it.

"Can we go inside?" Pete's voice was hoarse.

Marla unlocked the door and poured them both a glass of lemonade. She laughed to herself at the look on his face when he tasted it for the first time.

"Wow, this is the best lemonade I've ever tasted, what's your secret?" Pete quickly took another sip.

"Organic lemons and organic raw sugar with just a touch of lime and raw honey. My own personal recipe."

"Sounds like a lot of work. I'm more the mix and add water type."

"Let me guess, you don't measure the water or the mix."

"How'd you know?"

When he smiled Marla almost fainted away. He had the greatest, sexiest, slightly crooked smile she had ever seen. It changed his entire face, if possible making him even more alluring. Marla scolded herself for letting her mind go there. Betsy's talk must have had more of an effect on her than she'd thought. After a brief moment of silence Pete continued,

"Well, like I said, there's been some new information about the break-in but it doesn't make any sense. The FBI got a match on the fingerprints we found around the pet door. Here's the rub, the guy's supposed to have died two years ago." Pete waited for the information to sink in for Marla.

"So what are you trying to tell me, I've got ghosts? How is this possible and what's the guy's name?" Marla had so many questions racing through her head she wasn't sure which ones to ask first.

"The fingerprints belong to a guy named Alonso Fortuna and he died in federal prison about two years ago. I'm not sure what to make of the whole thing, but I do have some feelers out to my contacts at both the prison and the FBI. I'm trying to get a copy of the death certificate to find out how he died. Maybe somehow he was able to fake his death or something." Pete scratched his head and looked down at the floor, thinking deeply for a moment. "I know the answer to this already, but I have to ask, does the name sound familiar at all to you?"

"No. I wish it did." Marla smacked her palm to her forehead in frustration, as if that would jar her memory.

Pete felt a pang of pity for her. It had to be frustrating to have no memory of your past.

"Well, don't beat yourself up over it. I'm sure we'll figure this all out eventually. Just out of curiosity, do you still have the clothes and handbag you were found with three years ago?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure they're still in the evidence room at the police station. They took them while I was in the hospital. At least I think they did. I know I never got them back. I never thought anything of it. I just assumed they were ruined."

"I'll check it out, don't worry about it. Anyway, that's all the information I have right now and I told you I'd keep you informed."

"I appreciate it. I wish I could be of more help." Marla was frustrated but had learned from experience that there wasn't anything she could do about it. She forced herself back to the moment and when she looked up Pete was watching her. His eyes moved over her, intense and alluring. Heat spreading through her body at the thought of being with him, naked, and in his arms-- she blushed.

"Sorry. I zoned out for a minute there. Would you like some more lemonade?"

"No, thanks. I better get back to work. Thank you for the drink and if you think of anything just give me a call." Pete walked out the back door, his brows furrowed deep in thought.

Marla stood at the screen door and watched until he had driven out of sight. She felt like a complete idiot. Why couldn't she remember anything? She never even had dreams that she could remember, let alone little flashbacks. The doctors all assured her that eventually some little pieces of information would start to push through, but so far she had nothing except a headache. Getting up so early in the morning had Marla taking a short nap daily, and now she had missed it altogether. She still had a lot of canning and freezing to do for the bakery but she was exhausted. She had lain down on the couch and fell immediately into a restless sleep. Marla woke with a start, something wasn't right. She sat there and listened intensely for a few minutes. The dogs were in the backyard, and barking their heads off, but the sounds she heard were at the front door. Someone was jiggling the door handle. Marla jumped up and grabbed her cell phone, dialing the police as she bolted for the bathroom. Once inside she locked the door and whispered into the phone to the 911 operator. She was trembling uncontrollably, terrified, she cowered in the bath tub and jumped at every noise she heard.
CHAPTER 4

Marla tried to steady her breathing but only succeeded in starting to hyperventilate. She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the front door crash in, hitting the wall with the force. She heard shouts of 'clear' throughout the house and finally a gentle knock on the door.

"Marla, it's Pete, you can come out now."

Marla's response was anything but calm as she opened the door and rushed straight into Pete's chest. She flung her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest. He wasn't sure what to do at first, he wasn't really the touchy feely kind of guy, but for some reason he wanted to comfort and soothe her. He hugged her tightly to him until she stopped her sobbing. He gently rubbed her back and murmured words of encouragement into her ear while he gently rocked her back and forth, comforting her the only way he knew how. She felt so good in his arms, he found himself wishing she could stay there forever, fighting the urge to kiss away her tears. When someone behind him loudly cleared their throat Pete suddenly stiffened and remembered he still had a job to do. When her grip around his neck began to loosen he pulled away and resumed his stiff, professional persona.

"Have a seat in the living room, Marla, while I have a look around." Marla nodded and obediently went to the couch, blowing her nose and wiping her eyes with the tissues on the coffee table. When Pete sat down in the chair across from her he had a worried and puzzled look on his face.

"What?" Marla asked nervously.

"Well for starters, I think that the dog security system you have in place is inadequate. You need to look into an alarm system ASAP. There are signs of tampering on the front door handle and someone has slid a piece of wood into the pet door so the dogs were locked out, again. Someone wants something from you or thinks something's in this house that they need to get their hands on. I certainly don't think this is a fluke. Again, we'll have the fingerprint team check out everything and see what we can find." Pete rubbed his hand down his face while trying to figure out things. "How hard have you tried to regain your memory?" He asked as if it probably hadn't been hard enough.

"I've tried hypnosis, injections of sodium pentathol, you know, 'truth serum', therapy and even free association. Basically everything modern science has to offer. Why?" Marla asked sternly. She resented the insinuation that she wasn't really trying very hard, and that pissed her off.

"I can't help but feel that this has to do with your past life, whatever that was." Pete waved a hand in the air in frustration.

"And I resent the implication that I'm not doing my best to recover my memory or that I'm withholding information from you. Check the records at the police station if you don't believe me. They investigated for over a year before they gave up," She spat out in disgust. Pete just stared coldly at her without comment.

"I don't even know how old I am!" Marla yelled. "The only thing I do know is that I don't have any children wandering around somewhere and even then the doctor had to tell me that because I couldn't remember." She was standing now and gesturing wildly with her arms, enraged and hurt that he didn't believe her.

Pete suddenly stood and started out the door. Frustrated with himself for not handling things better. He let his personal feelings affect his job. He needed to take a moment for himself. Time to get things back into the proper perspective.

"I'll be back later, once you get a hold of yourself." He stormed out the door and went straight to his car.

Marla tried to slam the front door shut but it was in tatters after being kicked in by the police, leaving her just another thing for her to have to deal with. She grabbed her phone and called Hal at the hardware store, explained the situation, and was assured that Hal himself would come out and install her new door before nightfall. When she looked out the front window again, Pete was gone. Good, now she could get to work on her canning and freezing, which she did with a vengeance.

Three hours later Marla had just finished cleaning the kitchen when Hal arrived with the new door, complete with deadbolt. It reassured her to have Hal there, whistling softly as he worked.

Pete was furious as he stormed out to his car, intending to sit just long enough to get his self -control back. This woman would be the death of him if he wasn't careful. How could she be so sweet one minute and raging like a bull in a China shop the next? He tried to remember his vow of not getting involved with anyone, ever, but those thoughts kept getting interrupted by the memory of her and the feelings she stirred in him. He tried to conjure up his ex-wife's face, hoping for the old feelings of anger and betrayal to surge through him. She had made his life a living hell and he needed to keep that in mind when dealing with Marla, but try as he did it just wasn't working. Maybe it was the old damsel in distress syndrome that men in romance novels were stricken with, although he knew plenty of other cops with the same malady. Did he feel sorry for her? Maybe a little about the memory thing but overall he felt she was smart and capable of taking care of herself. Was it her looks? Yeah, she was beautiful, although he was sure she had no idea she was. But that wasn't what was nagging at him. At least he hoped he wasn't that superficial, it was her everything. Beauty, brains, smell of fresh baked goods, but the thing that put her over the top was the feel of her in his arms. That quivering, quaking little body wrapped tightly around his. All he could think about was how she'd feel under him, longing to be the man that made her quake and quiver in excitement. It would be magnificent. He closed his eyes and imagined exploring her silky skin as he slowly stripped her naked, using his hands and lips and tongue to bring her with him into ecstasy. He moaned loudly as his erection grew to huge proportions at just the thought. Sweat had broken out on his brow as he opened his eyes and remembered he was still sitting in his car in Marla's driveway. Startled, he quickly started the engine and pulled away, deciding to head to the office and dig up the investigation files on Marla. Maybe a set of fresh eyes might pick something up. The sooner he got this case over with the better. Then he could go back to being his self-absorbed, distant self.

********

Marla stretched out on the huge, warm boulder while the dogs played in the water of the river they had hiked to earlier in the day. The heat felt good on her bones and she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sounds and scents of nature all around her. As much as she loved owning the bakery and all the people, there were times when she just wanted to be alone, without the noises of lawn mowers and trimmers buzzing throughout her neighborhood. Here she was able to emotionally remove herself from her problems and analyze them calmly and logically. Today's quandary: what did she have that someone else wanted so bad they were willing to break into her house, twice, to look for it? The answer that kept coming back to her was, nothing. She had absolutely nothing more or less than anyone else in her neighborhood of small, two bedroom bungalow's. It was sparsely furnished in early hand-me-down, donated by the good people of Wynott. Three dogs that they could have taken any time if they wanted to. A bicycle that she rarely used, simply because she preferred to walk everywhere. She didn't even have a credit card or driver's license for cripes sakes. She never carried a purse, preferring to just use her pockets, because all she needed was her debit card, house key and bakery key. She was a simple person with simple needs and she minded her own business. Saint Marla. She hadn't even been out on a date since coming to Wynott so she could tic 'annoying ex-boyfriend' off the list. And speaking of annoying, Peter Jensen immediately popped into her mind. Now he was another can of worm's altogether. Handsome, but he apparently knew that by the way he acted so superior to everyone else, as if he owned the whole town. For a newcomer he certainly hadn't made any friends around town. According to Betsy he liked being alone and made no secret of it at the police station. Although everyone admitted that he knew his job and was persistent with his cases. Marla still had trouble believing that she was one of his 'cases'. Probably according to him the biggest nut case he'd ever seen. She had no business being attracted to him. He clearly didn't return the feelings. Maybe it was the challenge? No, she'd had enough challenges in the last three years to last a lifetime. So what was it about Pete that made her shake, rattle and roll when he was around? She felt safe with him around, which was good, but she also felt an underlying sexual tension that attracted her. It made her want to explore his body and feel him inside of her. To feel his body in her and on her and next to her. Then once they caught their breath, do it all again until neither one could move. The thought made her stomach clinch as she felt a throbbing ache of want right down to her feminine core. She had no idea if she even liked having sex but somehow, with Pete, she wanted to find out. There was only one problem with that, he wasn't interested, and that was one of the only things she was sure of today. Marla sensed a shadow move over her, chilling her body. She opened her eyes and thought she was dreaming.

"Your dogs are swimming in the river," Pete stated angrily. Marla looked up into his shaded eyes to see her reflection.

"I know, they love the water, except for Curly, he just drinks it. Let me guess, you have a problem with the dogs in the water." Marla sat up and rested her hands on her knees waiting for his reply.

"I do because they're scaring the fish away, and I came here to fish." He rested his hands on his hips.

"Couldn't you go down or up or whatever you call it and do it someplace else?"

"I was told this was the best spot around for miles."

"Well I'm sorry if I ruined your precious fishing. I guess next time we'll have to co-ordinate our plans so we don't have to run into each other. Larry! Curly! Moe! Come!" Marla scooped-up Curly, put him in her backpack and stormed off, the other two wet dogs following happily as she marched back onto the trail, pissed. She heard Pete call after her.

"Well you don't have to get pissed about it, the damage is already done. By all means, come back and enjoy your rock."

Marla ignored him and continued on the trail back to the park and, eventually, her house. Well, so much for a day of peace and quiet. Or should I say half day. She only got one half day per week for pleasure and Pete had made sure he ruined even that for her. When she heard Moe yipe she looked back quickly. She was shocked to see Pete bending down on one knee and holding Moe's paw in his hand. Before she could speak Pete was soothing Moe.

"Just a little picker stuck in your paw buddy, nothing to worry about. I took care of it for you. You're such a good boy, yes you are!" Pete said as he scratched Moe's ear and allowed him to place a sloppy kiss on his stubble covered cheek. Marla rushed over to Moe to comfort him as well.

"My poor baby. Are you all right? Did you thank Mr. Jensen for fixing it for you?" Moe gave her a little woof of happiness as his tail thumped on the ground.

"Thank you for taking out the picker. Are you following me?" Marla asked boldly.

"No. Yes. I mean I'm heading back to the park and apparently this is the only path, so I guess I am. I have to say though, the view is fantastic." Marla wasn't sure what he meant by that so she didn't answer. Instead she called Moe to follow her and continued back onto the trail, ignoring Pete the rest of the way home. By the time Marla got to her house on foot, Pete was sitting on her front porch steps holding three huge dog biscuits.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go since my fishing plans were waylaid. I figure the least you could do was feed me some lunch or something, leftovers, anything. I'm really sick of fast food and I'm a terrible cook, so I thought you might...be....able to help...me?" Pete grinned widely, a genuine smile, when he saw Marla laughing at his pitiful attempt at scoring a home cooked meal.

"It sounds fair enough, since my quiet day in the country has been sidelined. Let's go raid the fridge and see what I've got." Marla put the dogs in the backyard to finish drying and to eat their treats and Pete followed her into the house. When Marla looked up she yelled and suddenly stopped in her tracks. Pete moved around her to see what was going on. Her entire house was in complete shambles, furniture was upended, drawer's pulled completely out and tossed upside down in a heap on the living room floor. All her wall hangings had been pulled off and broken into pieces before being added to the pile. Every kitchen cupboard and drawer were all in the same condition, even her refrigerator and freezer had been emptied onto the floor and the appliances pulled away from the walls. Canisters of flour, sugar, salt, coffee and everything else had been opened and dumped as well. Even the light fixtures had been searched as they hung crookedly from their sockets.

"Why are they doing this to me?" Marla said through the hand that was over her mouth. She bent down to pick up something but Pete's arm snaked quickly around her waist and pulled her against his body. "Don't touch anything. I'll call this in, come outside with me." Pete turned Marla around and led her out the back door, seating her on the plastic lawn chair while he made the call. Marla stared blankly ahead in shock and speechless.
CHAPTER 5

"Marla. Marla, look at me." Pete commanded. She looked into his blue eyes, still in a fog. "You need to find someplace else to stay tonight. We won't be done in here until morning. Do you want me to call someone for you?" Pete offered.

Marla thought for a minute before answering. "No, I don't have anywhere else to go. I'll just stay out here tonight with the dogs."

"You can't do that, you need to get some sleep, but you can let the dogs stay in the yard if you want. Everyone seems to like you in town, I'm sure you know someone who'd take you in for the night."

"No. I don't have any friends like that. I wouldn't dare put anyone in that position. I've purposely kept to myself in case something bad from my old life came after me. If I had friends they could use that against me and possibly hurt them so it's just me and the dogs. Don't worry, I'll be fine and lord knows I've survived worse." Marla slouched down into the chair and extended her legs, crossing them at the ankle as she rested her head on the back of the chair. She crossed her arms over her full breasts and closed her eyes to try and sleep, taking comfort in the fact that the house was filled with cops. Thanking her lucky stars that things could have been worse. Whoever was behind these invasions didn't seem to want to do her any physical harm. They just wanted something she had, or at least thought she had.

Damn she's stubborn! Pete stood with his hands on his hips and stared at her as he thought about the situation. Finally he made a decision.

"Marla, take my car and drive over to my place. You can stay there since I'll be here all night anyway. I live in that blue house across the street from the hardware store, you know the one?" Pete asked.

"Ummm, Pete, thank you for the offer, but you don't have to do that for me. I'll be fine really. Besides, I don't know how to drive." Marla confessed.

"You don't know how to drive or you can't because you don't have a license?" Pete needed clarification.

"I don't know how to operate a vehicle," Marla answered more firmly this time.

"Wow. That would mean you were probably living in a large city with mass transportation available before you were dumped here. I didn't see anything about that in the reports I pulled on you at the station. Did anyone ever ask you about this before?"

"No, I don't think it ever came up. I walk everywhere but then so do a lot of people who live in town. It's never been an issue."

"It could be a lead to your past. I promise I'll look into it but for now I'll have a black and white drive you to my house. I'll keep them stationed outside until I get home. What time do you need to get up for work tomorrow?" Marla smiled.

"Four thirty."

"Please, please tell me you're kidding me," Pete begged.

"Sorry, time to make the doughnuts. It's not just a saying. Four thirty, at the latest." Marla smiled broadly now and Pete noticed how it lit up her face. Beautiful, he thought. She's simply beautiful.

"I'll make sure you get there on time. You better get your cute little buns in bed. Oh my, it's almost seven o'clock, way past your bedtime," Pete teased and laughed as he led her to the police car.

"I'll take care of the dogs and bring you some fresh clothes when I come to get you. I can't let you into the house until CSI is done so I'll have to do the packing for you. Make yourself at home and I'll see you later." Pete held her head down as she got into the back of the police car. At first it was just habit but when he felt the silky texture of her hair he extended the contact a little longer than necessary and gave her neck a little massage before closing the door.

When Pete got home at two o'clock in the morning he checked in on Marla. He looked on as she curled herself even tighter into the fetal position as she slept restlessly. He took his shower and had just enough time to slip on his sweat pants when he heard her screams. He grabbed his gun and raced into the bedroom to find Marla having a nightmare. She was fighting off someone as her arms flailed in the air and she struggled with her imaginary attacker.

"Marla! Marla, wake up. It's all right. It's only a dream. You're okay. Shhhh." Pete lain down on the bed with her and held her tightly in his arms, kissing the top of her head gently until she settled into him. She wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled herself even closer, wishing she could just go inside his body and hide. She managed to squeak out her plea "please, stay with me. I'm scared."

"Of course I'll stay. You go back to sleep now and I'll wake you when it's time." Pete held her tightly until he felt her body relax and her breathing evened out. Now his heart ached for her and what she'd been through. She had to be one of the strongest women he'd ever met but everyone had their breaking point and he sensed that Marla wasn't far from hers. He needed to get some answers before that happened. All right, so he cared about her. So what? It wasn't a crime to care about someone. Besides, Marla was special. She had an innocence about her that made him want to protect her and take care of her. No biggie, really. He could handle it, or at least that was what he was telling himself for now.

Pete managed to get Marla to work on time but made no secret of his intention to go straight home and go back to bed. He did just that after he made sure she was safely inside the bakery and saw Betsy beating up some dough on the counter. He was glad she wasn't alone or he would have had to stay until someone else showed up. When he got home he crawled into bed eagerly, only to be distracted by the sweet smell of Marla on his sheets. He tossed and turned while he tried to put her out of his head but after a half hour he gave up and got dressed. When he walked into the bakery Marla smiled, genuinely happy to see him.

"I thought you went home to get more beauty sleep," Marla commented as she poured him his coffee and handed it to him.

"That was the original plan but something got in the way," Pete said in his usual morning grouchiness.

"What? Don't tell me something else happened to my house. Are the dogs all right?"

"Yes, they're fine. By the way, does Curly ever suck his tongue into his mouth?" Pete asked concerned.

"Never. Why, did you think he'd been poisoned or something?"

"Something like that. Damnedest thing I've ever seen. Anyway, that wasn't the problem." Pete lowered his voice and moved in closer to Marla. "Someone left the sweetest, nicest smell on my sheets. I couldn't get to sleep because I kept thinking about who had done that to my sheets." Pete smiled broadly as he watched Marla's face blush to a beautiful rosy pink.

"Sorry about that. I'll stop by and wash them for you later today, and thanks again for giving me a place to stay and a shoulder to sleep on. That was the first bad dream I've had since I woke up in the hospital. I acted like a scared little ninny." Marla shook her head at the memory of the dream.

"Don't you dare touch those sheets, I like them just as they are and you're welcome anytime between my sheets. Do you remember what the dream was about?"

"Not really, just bits and pieces. I was fighting someone off, I remember that much anyway."

"Where were you in the dream?" Pete asked, hoping for a little subconscious slip.

"Ummm, in my bedroom at my house, the one I live in now. It was a man but he was all in black, even his face, so that only his eyes showed through the mask. They were big and bulgy and really bloodshot, terribly red really, with brown iris', but not a nice brown, more like a shit brown. And angry, very angry. That's all I remember." Marla shrugged her shoulders and shivered as she remembered the terror that had seized her in the dream. Pete's arm immediately went around her shoulders and pulled her into him as he gave her a reassuring squeeze. Marla put her splayed hand on his broad, muscular chest and rubbed it slowly and gently. When she realized what she was doing she stepped back abruptly just as his arm released her as if it were on fire. They were both taken aback by their actions, although Pete was silently very pleased with her reaction to him. Yes, he could definitely get used to wrapping his arms around her--and much, much more. Pete forced himself back to reality and grabbed his bakery selection. He waved as he headed out the door while others streamed into the bakery, oblivious to it all, except Betsy of course. She had watched the whole thing from the kitchen and did some silent clapping of her own, happy that they seemed to have found each other at last.

After the morning rush was over Marla made her way back into the kitchen for a much needed break and a cup of coffee. There she found Betsy rolling out the dough for the next batch of apple cinnamon rolls with nuts. For some reason Betsy had a huge smile on her face.

"What are you up to now Miss Betsy?" Marla asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, I'm just happy to see you and that cop finally getting 'along' for lack of a better term. You make a nice couple, that's all," Betsy answered with her tongue in cheek.

"Well, I did spend the night in his bed last night." Marla heard the empty bowl clatter to the floor and laughed. Two could play this game.

"Spill it or I'll have to torture it out of you!" Betsy commanded.

Marla let her stew a minute before she explained the unfortunate events of the previous night. She left out the part about the bad dream and the cuddle session that had followed, not wanting to encourage Betsy's matchmaking spirit.

"Now I'm just stalling. I have to go home and clean-up that mess. Yuck! Do you know they had the nerve to dump every canister in my kitchen right in the middle of the floor! It'll take me forever," Marla whined.

"I have a suggestion. Lizzie Michaels is always looking to make some extra money, why don't you call her to help?" Betsy had a good idea there, Marla thought.

"Yeah. Great idea. Do we have her phone number anywhere? I'll give her a call."

In no time at all Marla had made arrangements for Lizzie to stop by the bakery and pick-up Marla's house key so she could get started. Marla had some ordering to do and a lot of bill paying before she could concentrate on that disaster. She gave Lizzie her key and instructions and decided she better call Pete and let him know about Lizzie.

"Wynott Police Department, may I help you?" The gruff voice answered the phone.

"May I speak to Pete Jensen please?" She used her sweetest voice, hoping the guy didn't ask who was calling. Gossip was not limited to the bakery and Marla knew by Betsy's response that the rumbles of romance wouldn't take long to hit the grapevine.

"Hold on."

"Pete Jensen, can I help you?" Pete sounded aggravated.

"Hi Pete. It's Marla. I didn't mean to interrupt but I just thought that I'd let you know that I gave Lizzie Michaels my house key and sent her over to start cleaning-up." Marla rushed out the story.

"Oh, that's good. That place is a wreck. I don't know this Lizzie person, is she trustworthy?" Pete seemed much calmer and even a little concerned.

"Yeah, and she's had some added medical expenses lately so she could really use the extra money. I've been helping her a little here and there for the last couple of months so I trust her. Anything new on the detective work yet?" Marla liked talking to Pete, it made her feel safe and it was nice to have someone to talk to.

"Well nothing concrete yet but I have a lot of calls out, kind of playing phone tag with some folks at the FBI. I'll let you know when I have anything solid. So, since you have the house in good hands, what's on your schedule for the rest of the day?" Was he actually making conversation with a woman? This was so not supposed to happen, but he was hooked and he knew it.

"Ordering supplies and doing payroll, paying bills, and all the other non-fun things there are to running a business. Umm, Pete, I just want to thank you again for staying with me last night and taking me in like a stray wet kitten. I really appreciate it and I also have to warn you that the gossips are starting to have a field day over it. I think I may have put you in a bad position, maybe even helped your bad guy image a little. Sorry about that." Marla closed her eyes and cringed, expecting a very negative comment.

"Hah! Let them go at it and have a good time. God bless them, because from what I understand I needed some good publicity. I guess my image has come across a little tarnished to the general population. Another plus is that maybe every single woman in a twenty mile radius will stop leaving food on my doorstep and some very inappropriate notes to go along with it."

"So you're telling me I have a little competition?" Marla asked, amused.

"I've never met ninety nine percent of them and that other one percent are old enough to be my mother!" Pete chuckled into the phone. "I think you're safe, for now that is."

"Well thank goodness, I don't think I could handle any more problems right now, my plate's pretty full. I guess I better let you go. Thanks for the chat, it helped."

"Good. Talk to you soon." Pete smiled as he put down the phone. When he looked up he saw the entire squad room staring at him with open, gaping mouths. He addressed the group as a whole.

"Something wrong?"

"No, nothing at all, loverboy. Did you give Marla a smooch over the phone or did you go straight for the phone sex?" Dillon asked as the whole room erupted into loud laughter. Pete could have denied his feelings for Marla but he knew that was useless and would only encourage the group, possibly inciting them to riot. He just kept his cool, this wasn't the first time he'd been teased and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Unlike you Dillon, I don't have to resort to phone sex because I can get the real thing." That shut him up as the rest of the group gave a low 'woooooo' sound.

"This isn't over pretty boy," Dillon said as he pointed his fat, stubby finger at Pete.

"Actually, I think it is. I'm going to lunch." Pete stood and grabbed his jacket as he sauntered out the door, round one, Pete.

Marla sat at her desk and smiled for no particular reason. That was a lie and she had to stop doing that to herself. It was because of Pete and no other reason. His reaction to the news of the gossips wasn't at all what she had expected. She was sure he'd be mad as a hornet but instead seemed pleased. For the first time in, actually forever, Marla allowed herself to entertain the idea of dating and the possibility of love entering her life. She'd been lonely these last three years but never felt she had the right to involve someone in her mixed-up life. What could she possibly bring into a relationship? She didn't even know what kind of person she had been. No history to speak of and no memorable life experiences to draw from. But with Pete, she didn't feel the need to explain herself. He accepted her just as she was. She just hoped that what she was now would be enough, because beyond that there was nothing.
CHAPTER 6

Pete strode quickly into the bakery, scanning the room for Marla. When he didn't see her he continued on to the back room.

"Hi. I take it you're Betsy. I'm Pete Jensen. Where's Marla?" Pete demanded more than asked.

"She's in her office around the corner there." Betsy pointed. Without a thank you, he turned and walked into her office without knocking.

Marla sat at her desk, stacks of paper nearly obliterating his view of her.

"Marla, you're all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why? What now?" Marla felt a sense of panic invade her as she looked into Pete's very worried and serious face.

"Everything will be fine. I was so worried about you. Thank God you're all right. We got a call from your neighbors about a disturbance at your house. Apparently the dogs were going ballistic, and when Mrs. Avery went to your back door it was smashed in. She found Lizzie lying on the floor, out cold. She called 911 and sat with Lizzie until the ambulance came. I was afraid someone got to you." Pete put his hand to his heart as if to steady it before he continued. "Lizzie is on her way to the hospital right now. Someone kicked in the back door and really did a number on her." Pete watched as the color drained from Marla's face.

"This is all my fault. It should have been me cleaning the house instead of Lizzie. She's had so much to deal with lately, and now this. I feel awful. I need to get to the hospital and make sure she's all right. Poor Lizzie." Marla tried to fight back the tears but a few fell before she was successful. She stood and headed straight for the door, hurrying past Pete on her way to the hospital, frantic to get to Lizzie.

Pete grabbed her gently by the arm, rubbing his thumb along the inside of her elbow.

"I'll drive you. We have to talk about a few things anyway." Once Pete got her settled into the car he continued their conversation.

"Marla, you can't stay in that house anymore until we figure this out, it's too dangerous. Whoever's doing all this is escalating in both frequency and violence and seems pretty adept at getting into the house anytime they want. You know you're welcome at my house, right?"

"Thanks Pete, I appreciate it, really, but I'm staying at my house tonight and every other night. What better bait than me? I won't have anyone else hurt because of me." Marla crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin in defiance.

"Very noble, but not very practical. Let's be realistic here, Marla, you're no match for some nut with an agenda. How tall are you, maybe five two? And you weigh, what, maybe one ten with all your clothes on and soaking wet? Do you have any special self-defense skills or can you shoot a gun?" Anger and impatience invaded his voice while his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

"No, but that's not the point. The point is if someone's going to get hurt it should be me, not some innocent cleaning lady just doing her job." She rubbed her hand over her face and huffed in frustration.

"Tell me you're not serious, because that's the stupidest idea I've ever heard, and I've heard some real doozies in my time." Pete shook his head in disbelief. "Let's leave the police work to the professionals."

"Well so far the 'professionals' haven't done a whole hell of a lot now, have they?" Marla sniped back.

"Don't start with me, Marla. I've been working my ass off on this case, and just because I don't have the answer today doesn't mean I won't have it tomorrow. These things take time you know."

Marla looked out the window of the car, thinking about what she could do to help Lizzie and realizing that she'd gone too far with Pete.

"I'm sorry I was so snotty with you. I know you're doing your best and I'm just taking out my frustrations on you. So what's your plan?"

"I don't know yet. I'll drop you off to visit Lizzie and I'll come in after I've made a few calls from the car." Pete stopped in front of the emergency entrance of the hospital and waited for Marla to get out, then wheeled into a parking spot and started dialing. First, he checked his messages and then he called Captain Perkins. He joined Marla in Lizzie's cubby and nodded a hello to Lizzie.

"How are you feeling? Have they decided if they'll let you go or not?" He took in the purple swelling that covered her face, along with the swelling. Accenting her face were white strips of tape to hold together a few lacerations.

"They're keeping me overnight for observation. I feel like I've been run over by a Mack truck. Probably look like it too. They've advised me not to look in a mirror for a few days, not that I can see much with my eyes swollen like this." She gently placed her hand over her eyes, exploring the damage with her fingers. "I was just telling Marla that this wasn't her fault and that she shouldn't worry about me, but she's pretty stubborn." Lizzie chided.

"Tell me about it," Pete added as a sigh of exasperation left his lips.

"Hey, come on you two, I'm not that bad. So I care, so sue me. Not literally there, Lizzie, please." Pete and Lizzie laughed as the nurse came in to wheel Lizzie to her room.

"Are you sure you don't need anything before we go, Lizzie?"

"Jeez, what a mother hen you are. I'll be fine. Go home and quit bothering me now. I need my beauty sleep." Lizzie waved goodbye as the nurse rolled her out the door.

Pete couldn't resist the urge and hugged Marla quickly. "Come on, let's get going. We have to stop at my place before we go to your house."

"What's the plan after that?"

"I'm your new bodyguard. I cleared it with Captain Perkins until this is over. Do you have a problem with that?" Pete asked as an afterthought. Not that it mattered, because there was no way he was letting her out of his sight.

"I think it's a wonderful compromise and now you can finally get that homemade dinner I've been promising you. That is, if we can stop at the store too."

"No problem. Can we have pot roast with potatoes and carrots and salad and rolls?" His boyish grin warmed her heart and she found herself starting to relax. Anything you want." She winked back at him. "Is that your favorite home cooked meal?" Marla asked.

"It's a tie between that and chicken and dumplings, but I just had chicken at the diner for lunch."

"Then roast it is. Why don't you drop me by the market and then you can go to your place while I shop?" Marla sucked in a deep breath as he placed his warm, strong hand over hers.

"Let's see, because that would make me the world's worst bodyguard. We'll go in together."

"You're the boss. Maybe sometimes we could even take turns...being the boss that is." She softened her voice to a husky growl, almost purring the last word.

"Very good! I like that. See that you answer all my commands like that and we'll get along just fine." Pete's voice came out in a rough, sexy tone, making her body tingle. Feeling the most feminine she had in all her time in Wynott.

Dinner was delicious, according to Pete anyway. After the dishes were done and the kitchen cleaned, they sat down to coffee in the living room.

"So, what exciting things do you usually do in the evenings?" Pete asked.

"Well, first I cuddle with the dogs. Once they settle down I read for a little while and I'm usually in bed by eight o'clock. Remember, four thirty wake up time. What about you? What exciting things do you do with your evenings?"

"Well, I'm sort of a computer geek, so I surf the internet, play some online games with people I've never met from all over the world. I also like to watch a lot of news shows, so I usually keep the television on while I'm on the computer. Whenever I get tired, then it's lights out. Exciting, huh?" Pete laughed.

"You know, we're pitiful. Why haven't you taken up with any of those single women swarming all over you?" Marla asked, amused at his reaction of disgust.

"I'm not looking for romance. I'm pretty much a loner, in case you haven't figured that out yet."

"Why? You're handsome and intelligent, I'd think you'd make someone a good companion. So what's the backstory on this?" Marla probed.

"Been there, done that. It didn't go well. I was married for about six months before I found my wife in bed with my partner. Apparently they'd been together since before the wedding and I never even had a clue. Some detective I am. Anyway, needless to say we divorced and now Alicia and Alex are married, blissfully happy, with a baby on the way. It made me want to puke every day I had to work with him, so I decided I needed the peace and quiet of a small town. Who knew what a farce that stereotype had turned out to be. This place is a hotbed of sin and intrigue according to the grapevine, anyway." Pete nervously wiped his hand over his face. He didn't like talking about the divorce, especially with someone he was so attracted to.

"In their defense, they've been completely wonderful to me. When they heard about my situation, they rallied and set me up in this house, furnished it for me and arranged a job for me even before I'd been released from the hospital. I guess I'm sort of the town project." Marla lamented. "Don't get me wrong, I would never have made it without their support, but they're watching me constantly like I'm going to explode or something. It gets on my nerves sometimes, but I try to keep reminding myself that it's just because they care."

"You could be smothered from so much care."

"Yeah." Marla stifled a yawn and looked at the clock on the wall. Eight thirty, past her bedtime. Pete noticed the yawn and regretted that their time together had to come to an end.

"It's past your bedtime, little miss. Go onto bed, I'll make myself at home," Pete commanded as he picked up their empty cups and headed for the kitchen.

"I thought I'd sleep out here and you could have the bedroom. There's a laptop on my dresser and the television's in there too. Just because it's my bedtime doesn't mean you have to go to bed. Plus, you're too tall for the couch, your legs will hang off the end." Marla pointed out.

"I'm not kicking you out of your own bed."

"How tall are you?"

"Six foot two, but that's not the point."

"That's exactly the point. Please don't give me a hard time about this Pete, I already feel bad enough about forcing you to have to stay here and I'm tired. Give me this one, please."

"Okay, you win."

"Now that's what I like to hear. Let me grab a few things and the room's all yours." Marla dashed into her room and was out in less than a minute. "It's all yours. See you in the morning."

Pete went into the bedroom and made himself at home. Even with the thorough cleaning that Lizzie had done, the room smelled of Marla, sweet and, he imagined, tasty. He couldn't believe how comfortable he'd felt with her tonight. He'd opened up to her and didn't feel judged or pitied. She simply accepted him the way he was, something his ex-wife had never done, and he actually wanted to tell her everything. It made him a little nervous, but had allowed him to release some of the anger and resentment he felt toward Alicia and Alex. It made his soul feel lighter, somehow. He smiled, actually happy for the first time in a very, very long time. Instead of running down the list of things he had to do tomorrow, he found himself obsessed with the thought of her, the sweet delicious smell of her.

It felt like he had just drifted off to sleep when he was being shaken awake.

"Pete! Somebody's at the back door! I heard someone jiggling the door handle and a loud scratching sound. I know it wasn't the dogs, they were all sleeping with me!" Marla frantically explained in a loud whisper, gasping and panting in terror.

Pete immediately jumped out of bed, clad only in his boxers, and grabbed his gun from the holster on the nightstand.

"Stay here and keep the dogs with you. I'll be right back. I'm closing the door, lock it after me."

Pete stealthy moved through the house, checking each room carefully before moving on to the next. Checking behind the doors and jiggling all the windows. Listening carefully, he heard the retreating footsteps of someone running from the house. He made his way back to the bedroom, knocking gently on the door.

"It's all clear Marla. Open the door." Keeping his voice as calm as possible. "Everything's clear but I heard someone running away when I got into the kitchen, so I think you're right, there was someone out there." Pete looked at Marla, amazed that anyone could make an old football jersey look so sexy. Its deep 'v' neck revealed the cleavage between her full, generous breasts and flowed down just past her firm behind. He realized she was trembling from head to toe, gathering her into his arms he tried to reassure her that everything was fine. Before he realized what he was doing, his lips gently brushed hers once, twice, then once again. He deepened the third kiss when Marla's arms wrapped around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. Her body molded to his. Her soft, warm lips parted slightly, inviting him inside for more. Her lips were soft and warm, deliciously sweet, just the way Pete dreamed she would taste. He dove deeper as their tongues caressed each other, slowly at first, then, as passion took over, dueling wildly until they were both gasping and breathless.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that," Pete gasped.

"I'm sorry you feel that way." He watched her whirl out of the room before he could explain any further.

Pete laid on the bed, reliving the kisses he and Marla had just shared over and over in his mind. He wasn't sure what had shocked him more, that he had actually kissed her or her passionate response. His next thought making him cringe. Could he have said anything more stupid than an apology? She'd run away. Who wouldn't after an idiot comment like that? He had spit out the first thing that popped into his head and now Marla thought he hadn't enjoyed it. Hell, he still had a throbbing boner. Talk about blowing it big time. If he could only take back his words. In that one single moment he'd felt her innocence and surprise as she sank deeper and deeper into his kiss. He could tell she wasn't very experienced, but oooh the taste and feel of her, sweet, supple softness crushing against his body.

He knew he should stop thinking about her but, frankly, he didn't want to. This was the first true attraction he'd felt since his divorce and it had taken him completely by surprise, not that he hadn't had sex since the divorce. He'd had his share while he lived in the city, but nothing that compared to the kiss he'd just shared with Marla. He wasn't sure that he had ever felt this way even with his ex. More probably he was in love with the idea of being in love, rather than any true feelings of love toward Alicia. Now he was older and wiser, he hoped, but Marla wasn't anything like Alicia. Marla seemed content with herself and her life. As a successful business woman she exemplified the kindness people in the city would consider soft and weak. But she could be so soft, for him anyway, as he again thought about how her body felt against his. If he hadn't been such an ass about it he could be holding her right now, kissing and loving every seductive inch of her body. Instead, he was painfully aroused and pissed at himself for hurting Marla's feelings. After he thought about it for a while, he decided he would wait until tonight and try to explain himself, maybe even buy her some flowers to apologize. Pete heard Marla moving around in the kitchen and glanced at the clock. Just as he expected, he hadn't slept a wink and now it was time to start their day. At least now he had an idea about how to fix the mess he'd made.
Chapter 7

Marla sat on the closed lid of the toilet, embarrassed at the honesty she had expressed about the kiss. She waited until she heard the quiet click of the bedroom door shutting before tiptoeing back into the living room and tried to go back to sleep, touching her lips, the effects of his kiss still lingering. Tears stung her eyes at the thought of Pete's regrets. She should have known better than to hope he had feelings for her. Damn, she would have never gone there if it hadn't been for her conversation with Betsy. Having let her guard slip she had ignored the fact that she was just a job to him. Consoling herself with the fact that once this was over they would go back to being strangers again.

Marla sat at the kitchen table waiting for Pete to finish getting ready, still shaken from the night's events when he walked into the room.

"Good morning. Are you ready to go? I'll have coffee for you at the bakery in no time at all." Marla spoke coolly, as though trying to keep her emotional as well as physical distance.

"Yep, anytime you are."

"You know I won't be alone once I'm at the bakery so you can just drop me off at the door. If you stick around the bakery all day then for sure people will start to talk. Maybe it would be best if you just, I don't know, set a time you'll be back for me." Marla stared straight ahead as she spoke, not wanting to make eye contact with him. Afraid he would be able to read the hurt and disappointment that she felt.

"I guess that will be all right. What time do you think you'll be ready to leave?"

"How about two o'clock? Or is that too early for you?" Marla asked.

"No, that will be fine. I'm sure by then I'll be ready to practically sleep walk home."

"Stay here and I'll run out your coffee and pastry." Marla was out the door before he could argue. God, she couldn't wait to get away from him. She practically ran into the bakery, rushing to get his order so she could be alone.

"Okay, spill it. What's wrong?" Betsy demanded as Marla removed her apron and hung it on the hook in her office.

"Spill what?" Marla knew what she meant but decided to just play dumb. She didn't want to talk about it with Betsy or anyone else.

"Whatever's got you down lower than a snakes hips. You've been going through your day like a robot, sort of on remote control and you haven't been your annoyingly cheery self either. No smiles, no heartfelt 'thank you' for the customers. So what gives?" Betsy demanded.

"Just tired I guess. I had another unscheduled visitor last night rattling around the back door. He was scared off but then I couldn't get back to sleep after that." Well it wasn't exactly a lie, she just didn't tell the whole truth. The last thing Betsy needed to know was that Pete had spent the night at her house, again. Luckily Pete's car drove up before Betsy could finish her interrogation.

"Have to take off Betsy, I'll see you tomorrow." Marla waved as she dashed out the door and into Pete's waiting car. Suddenly Marla wasn't sure if this was a better situation than the one she'd just escaped. Pete seemed stiff and cool, not even saying hello when she got in the car. It was gonna be a long night.

********

It hadn't escaped his notice that Marla was cold and aloof to him the minute she saw him, stiffly answering his questions and only speaking when absolutely necessary. His heart sank in regret. This was going to be harder to fix than he had originally thought. Lost in his own thoughts he didn't speak until they were both settled back at the house. Besides, they had things that needed to be discussed besides the kiss.

"We had some very interesting developments at the station today on your case. Captain Perkins talked to a man named Brett Noble. He came in claiming to be your husband and produced a marriage license and everything. Is there anything you can tell me about him?" Pete tried to keep an open mind, not wanting to jump to any conclusions.

"It's not possible. I'm sure I've never been married," Marla pushed a slightly trembling hand through her hair as she spoke.

"Funny, that's the same thing Captain Perkins said when she heard about it too. When I asked how she was so sure she said that was for you to tell me. What are you two keeping from me?" Pete accused.

"There are three things that I'm certain I never did in my present or previous life. I've never been married, never had children, and never been a prostitute." Marla just couldn't bring herself to just come out and say it, so she let him think about it for a minute. To his credit it didn't take long at all.

"You're a virgin?" Pete was incredulous.

"You say that like it's a sin. Sorry, I didn't think it had anything to do with my case." She moved to the stove and put the kettle on to boil.

"I thought you weren't very experienced but I had no idea..." He trailed off the sentence before he said something stupid. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence Marla took a deep breath and turned to face Pete. She had crossed her arms over her chest like armor.

"What did Captain Perkins do with this guy?" Marla asked coolly.

"She told him to take a hike after she got out of him that someone was paying him to make-up the story and forge the documents. Unfortunately, he didn't know who paid him because it was all arranged through the mail or by phone. He didn't keep the envelopes the guy mailed his payment in. We detained him while we searched his apartment, car, and hotel room. We also compared his fingerprints with the ones lifted from the house but there was no match. Apparently he's just some lowlife idiot who got mixed-up in the whole thing. Hell, he even used the name you go by here instead of knowing your real name. Yet again, just another tip-off that it was forged."

"Where is he now?" Marla asked calmly.

"We're keeping him overnight at the jail. When he gets out tomorrow we'll have someone tail him, see if he makes any calls and to whom. We might be able to shake something out of him yet." Pete sat down as his mind went back to the whole virgin thing.

"Would you like grilled tuna melt sandwiches and soup for dinner or do you want to have the left over roast?" Marla asked flatly.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter to me." Pete said absently, waving his hand in the air.

"Good. Whenever you're ready you can microwave the leftovers. I'm going to take a nap."

********

Marla went to the couch and laid down, covering herself with her blanket as the dogs settled in around her. Tears silently rolled down her cheeks. He had made her feel embarrassed and violated at the admission of her virginity.

After a full week of Pete being her constant companion Marla was ready to scream. Now that Pete knew that she was a virgin he acted as if she had a highly contagious disease, never getting within two feet of her. She had no idea men reacted this way about such things. Marla had always assumed being a virgin was a virtue, not a stigma. Live and learn, and boy had she learned. When she finally reached her breaking point she asked Pete how much longer he would have to be stuck with her. There hadn't been anymore incidents since Brett had been detained, so as far as she was concerned Pete's job was over. She didn't care who was after her or why, all she cared about was that it stopped. He could work on the case without hanging around her all the time.

"Pete, how much longer do you think Captain Perkins will make you stay with me?" Marla tried to put the emphasis on the fact that it was an inconvenience for him and not that she wanted him to leave.

"I have no idea. Do you need to stop anywhere before we head home?" Pete asked before they left the parking lot of the bakery.

"No, not unless you have someplace you need to hit."

Marla decided to call Captain Perkins tomorrow after the morning rush and talk to her directly. Her schedule had gone down the tubes with Pete around and she needed to get her life back. Maybe then she could get back to her cheery, personable self. If one more person asked if she was all right she swore she'd scream.

"I'm all set. What would you like for dinner tonight," Pete asked.

"Umm, I'm not really hungry, I'll make whatever sounds good to you. Would you like hamburgers on the grill?"

"I can't help but notice that you haven't been eating much and I can see you've lost weight. Are you all right?" Pete asked, not realizing he was probably the fifteenth person that had asked her that question today.

"Look Pete, you don't have to pretend to be concerned about me. I'm fully aware how you feel about me and I can take care of myself, so don't worry about it." Marla tried to hold back her anger but she didn't think she had pulled it off.

"Oh, really? That's pretty interesting since I'm not even sure how I feel about you. Please, enlighten me. Tell me how I feel."

"It's pretty damn obvious you barely tolerate me. Ever since we kissed and then you apologized. Once you found out I'm a virgin you've acted like I have a terrible disease. You skitter around me and go out of your way not to be near me. I may have no memory but that doesn't mean I'm stupid." Marla swiped at the tears running down her face as they pulled into the driveway. As soon as the car was stopped she ran into the house and went straight into the bathroom. She allowed herself a few minutes of crying into a folded towel before she got a grip on herself and washed her face. When she finally came out of the bathroom she spotted Pete in the backyard playing with the dogs so she started dinner.

Now that she thought about it she probably owed Pete an apology. He couldn't help how he felt and she had no right to be mad just because he didn't feel the same way she did. True, he could have handled it better, but he was who he was. Pete came into the house and walked to the bathroom. Marla heard the shower running and decided to wait until he was done before putting the burgers onto the grill. When the burgers were done she called him into dinner.

He sat down quickly, not saying a word, and assembled his burger. Just before he took his first bite he slammed the burger back onto his plate and pointed his finger at her.

"You have it all wrong about me. How dare you judge me! I could have had someone else be your bodyguard but I didn't. You know why? I'll tell you, it's because I'm crazy about you! There, now you know how I feel. Are you happy now? I didn't stay away from you because you repulsed me. I stayed away so I wouldn't put my hands all over you. And that kiss. MAGIC! Fucking. Magic. I didn't sleep the rest of the night because of you. All I could think about was you! Dammit woman, you've got me tied-up in knots, what else do you want?" Pete was amazed that Marla was smiling at him instead of being angry.

"Then why did you apologize after the kiss?"

"Because I'm a stupid ass and thought it wasn't professional behavior."

"Oh." Marla answered simply as she pushed his hands away from the table and sat in his lap. She kissed him on his forehead and worked her way down from there. All the while his hands started small fires of passion as they worked their way over her sensitive nipples, hardening them through her blouse and bra. Marla felt his erection against her bottom, exciting her even more. When she couldn't stand it another second Pete lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Pete laid her gently onto the bed, kissing her all the way, slowly and deeply. It took every ounce of restraint he had to keep it slow and gentle while his body was galloping at full speed ahead. Her body was smooth, soft and silky, just as he had imagined every night as he lay in bed, dreaming of this moment. Unbuttoning her blouse slowly, he explored every inch of her first with his hands and then with his mouth. Savory flavors of passion lay throughout Marla's body, heat building between her legs, making her restless, as Pete explored and tasted her. Marla wasn't patient as she ripped open Pete's shirt, exposing his muscled, masculine chest. Captivated by his musky sensuality Marla closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure, arching her back as Pete set her body on fire. When she couldn't take another moment of ecstasy she began to beg Pete to take her. He smiled into her beautiful eyes and continued his sensual ministrations, moving his hand to her silky hot mound, spreading her legs as his fingers entered her. She was dripping with excitement and he couldn't resist tasting her, savoring her between her silken folds, applying his tongue to her passion point until she climaxed wildly. He didn't give her time to recover before he began another assault, this time with his fingers. Marla frantically undid Pete's trousers and pushed his slacks and underwear down in one quick thrust. She cupped and massaged his sac before she finally embraced his engorged shaft, amazed that it could be both silky soft and hard as a rock at the same time. It had never in her wildest dreams occurred to her that love making would be so spectacular, so all consuming and yet so tender and sweet. Pete finally poised his shaft at Marla's feminine opening, Marla beckoning him in willingly.

"You're sure you want this?" Pete asked before thrusting inside her liquid warmth.

"Pete please, I'm begging you, come inside. Let me feel you move inside me."

She didn't have to ask twice as Pete moved slowly into Marla until he felt her virginal barrier. Before he could ask one last time if Marla wanted this, Marla wiggled down onto his shaft, breaking her barrier in an instant. Once Marla realized the painful part was over she encouraged Pete with words of endearment as he continued to plunge deeper and deeper.

She was so tight Pete was afraid he was too much for her but Marla matched his thrusts with loud moans of pleasure. Her body danced in perfect synchronization to their mutual climax, both shouting their pleasure loudly, victoriously. He was careful to not collapse onto Marla while he pulled her into his arms, rolling them both onto their sides. He kissed her over and over, tenderly and deeply until passion started to arouse him again. They laid together, stroking and caressing each other.

"Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you?" Pete asked, concerned and a little afraid of the answer.

"I've been so stupid! Why did I ever wait so long to do this? It was, from what I can remember, the single most wonderful experience ever! God Pete, it was awesome, you're awesome. Thank you, Pete. How long before we can do it again?" Marla loved the rumble of his chest as he laughed deeply.

"I've created a monster!" Pete answered in mock angst. Marla pushed Pete onto his back, straddling his hips and running her hands over his chest, but she felt his answer between her legs as Pete hardened instantly at her touch. Reaching up he cupped her inviting breasts in his hands, working her nipples to their own erection.

After making love again both of them needed two things, food and sleep. Pete went into the kitchen and Marla heard him cuss quietly. A few minutes later he returned to bed with bottled water, sliced cheese, crackers, grapes and strawberries.

"I think the dogs really enjoyed the burgers, except the pickles. I found those on the floor. I didn't even get one bite and they smelled so good too." Pete complained.

"I'll make more tomorrow, how's that sound?" Marla munched on a cracker.

"Deal. Can we have fries too?" He gave her his best puppy dog eyes, batting his eyelashes.

"Maybe, if you're good, oh wait, you are good." Marla laughed.

When they were done eating Pete drew a warm bath for Marla, explaining that she was probably sore and that tomorrow she'd be glad she'd soaked for a while. He carried her into the bathroom and placed her in the warm, steamy water, sliding slowly in with her when she wouldn't let go of his neck. They lain in the quiet scented water together, each absorbed in their own thoughts and both smiling broadly and kissing leisurely. They got out only when their skin was wrinkled and the water had cooled. Once they were dry, they crawled between the sheets and fell asleep, holding each other in a loving embrace.
CHAPTER 8

Marla had thought she was happy before Pete had entered her life but now she couldn't imagine life without him. She trusted him, made love to him, cooked for him and, yes, even loved him. All with a new feeling of completeness, as if Pete were her other half. Even her customers were happy to see Marla was now thriving with a new vibrancy and enthusiasm she hadn't had before. Of course everyone knew it was because Pete and Marla were now an 'item' for the town gossips. Betsy beamed with happiness for Marla, even encouraging her to take some time off to be with Pete. They were, for all intents and purposes, living together now. The dogs listened to his commands, sometimes even obeying them if they felt like it. Ever since the incident with her fake husband, Brett Noble, no one had come sneaking around the house and as far as Marla was concerned the case was closed. Knowing Pete as she now did he would never let it go, not until he had some answers.

One thing Pete was sure of was his feelings for Marla. Every time he thought of her his heart began to beat faster with happiness and excitement. Never in his entire life had he been this happy. Marriage to Alexis had always been work, sacrifice, and a series of constant misunderstandings. Marla was Alexis' polar opposite, and that suited Pete just fine. Despite all Marla had been through in the last three years she had a positive attitude toward life, literally making lemonade out of the lemons life had handed her. Her business thrived because of her creativity and insistence on excellence, along with her high expectations for the products she used to create those goodies.

But the biggest asset she had was herself. People loved her and she loved them, her eyes radiating her feelings like a mirror to her heart. She was pure, good, giving and caring, with love to spare. He was crazy about her. Head over heels in love with her. In bed she was a totally adventurous goddess, both giving and receiving. Pete had heard about relationships like theirs but never expected it for himself. He thought happiness was for other people, sort of a club that he wasn't allowed membership in. After his marriage he had lost all hope of ever being in love again, but God was kind and good and had given him a second chance with Marla. This time he was determined to do things right. He never wanted their relationship to become complacent or laborious, not that he wasn't willing to work at it, he was, but he wanted a balance between give and take. He never wanted to take advantage of Marla and never wanted to be taken for granted.

With Alexis it had been completely one sided, he gave and she took, and took until she had almost sucked him dry. After that relationship was over he had almost dried up and blown away, the only thing that saved him from total destruction was moving to Wynott, and Marla. Heck, he had even gotten used to getting up at four thirty every morning, although he still had a ways to go before he was happy about it. Marla was good about toning down her morning cheeriness until after he'd had at least two cups of coffee and one of her pastries. He had even started helping out around the bakery, mostly lifting and toting the heavy sacks of ingredients. Both Marla and Betsy made sure they showed their appreciation and Pete knew it was never expected of him or taken for granted he would just do it. He was always asked nicely for a favor, never ordered to do something. He liked that.

When Pete shook himself from his thoughts he was surprised to see Marla approaching his desk with a basket in her hand.

"Hey, what's going on?" Pete asked, more than a little uncomfortable that his personal life was walking into his professional one. Dillon, the asshole, would have a field day with this little gem of information.

"I finished a little early and decided to bring you some lunch, leftovers really. Is everything okay? You look a little, like, embarrassed. Does it bother you that I came here?" Marla sensed his hesitance but didn't know what to make of it.

Pete scanned the room before answering her. "No. It's fine. I just wasn't expecting you and you shouldn't be wandering around town alone." His reply was nervous and stilted, so unlike the man he was at home.

"Really Pete, it's been so long since anyone's bothered me I really think they just gave up. I'm perfectly safe now. Here, take your lunch, I have to get going." Marla couldn't get out of there fast enough to suit herself. Pete was acting strange and everyone was staring at them. Marla was tempted to turn around and make a funny face at everyone, but decided that was juvenile and beneath her. Given the circumstances, she didn't dare give him a kiss goodbye. She turned and walked quickly out the door. Marla inhaled deeply once she was out in the fresh air. How did Pete work in an environment like that? Yuk!

She changed direction and decided to head home, round up the dogs, and take a hike to her favorite spot by the river. A little alone time was what she needed and the dogs could use the exercise. Out of consideration she left Pete a note on the kitchen table telling him she went out with the dogs and that she'd be home by dinnertime.

Feeling the warmth of the sun on her face rejuvenated Marla like nothing else ever could. She wasn't a typical sun worshiper who cared about her tan. She just enjoyed the brightness of natural light and the heat it generated throughout her body. Tan lines were the least of her concerns and she was a faithful sunscreen user, but that didn't stop the freckles from springing from her skin after exposure from the sun. She never understood that phenomenon and it only occurred across the bridge of her nose, weird when you thought about it.

Larry, Curly and Moe romped around the woods on either side of the trail, never letting Marla get out of their sight. Curly, being the smallest, had to be watched for signs of fatigue or he'd run himself right into exhaustion and dehydration trying to keep up with the bigger dogs. He usually made it to the river all right but Marla carried the tired little canine back in her backpack. He always seemed grateful to Marla for not making him look bad in front of the other dogs, insisting she needed to hold something. Marla took a seat on her favorite boulder and watched the dogs enjoying the shallow water of the river, Moe simply lying down in it to cool off as quickly as possible. Having no children of her own, these dogs had become her children and she loved them with all her heart. They were worth every bit of trouble they had ever caused her while they came through puppy puberty. One thing was for sure, they were every bit as funny as the stooges they were named after.

Marla was startled out of her revere when she heard Pete behind her.

"What the hell are you doing here by yourself?"

"Well after our interlude at the station I got the distinct impression that you wished I'd disappear. Besides, I'm entitled to a little private time and I don't owe you an explanation. You don't own me and I'm perfectly safe here. Plus, I left you a note, which I think was very considerate of me." Marla turned her back to Pete, pretending to watch the dogs, arms crossed tightly across her chest. His angry attitude had immediately put her on the defensive end of the conversation.

"Look, I'm sorry if I offended you back at the station. I just can't stand everyone knowing our business like that," Pete tried to explain.

"No, I think it's more like you don't want to be teased. When are those guys going to grow up? Most of them are married anyway so I don't see the big deal here. I certainly won't be making that mistake again." Marla felt Pete's arms surround her, pulling her to his chest as he kissed her neck. Marla could feel the building erection press against her as he kissed his way up her neck to her ear, lingering there and nibbling whenever the mood struck.

"Forgive me?" Pete asked seductively. "Let's move behind this boulder and I'll show you how I feel about you." Marla chuckled as she moved with him, passion stirring her smoldering mood into fierce fires that only Pete could put out. They made fast and furious love while the dogs played in the water, not because they were afraid of getting caught but because they couldn't contain their passion. When they lay back on the rocks, sated and exhausted, they held hands as they caught their breath.

"I love nature, don't you?" Marla enthused. "I think I'd love camping, too. If I knew how to drive I'd live out in the middle of nowhere in a small cabin surrounded by woods."

"I could teach you how to drive but you wouldn't be able to get a license without a birth certificate."

"Then there's no point if I can't use it. I think I know enough to be able to drive in an emergency if I had to."

"Could you even get a long weekend off from the bakery if we went camping?" Pete asked doubtfully.

"I'm sure they'd muddle through somehow. Betsy's been bugging me to take some time off. I've never taken a vacation since I've come to Wynott." Marla opened her eyes and noticed that it was getting late. "We better get moving, it'll be dark soon."

They walked back in silence, holding hands and enjoying the quiet and solitude. Both of them liked the fact that they were comfortable enough with each other to not feel awkward with the silence.

********

Pete thought long and hard about the whole camping idea but he just couldn't get comfortable with it. He was more the room service and spa amenities type. Finally he came up with a compromise that he thought Marla would enjoy. He made reservations at some rural cabins about an hour south of Wynott. They still had all the necessary amenities, hot and cold running water, electricity, and flush toilets but in a rustic, wooded setting. Pete had secretly spoken to Betsy, arranging for Marla to take the weekend off. He even arranged for Lizzie to stay at Marla's house, cover for Marla at the bakery, and take care of the dogs.

Pete watched Marla's face light up when he walked into the bakery early Friday morning. God she was beautiful. His heart clutched hard in his chest as he sauntered toward her.

"Hey, what's going on?" Marla smiled broadly at the surprise she had just been given. She noticed he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt instead of the dress clothes he wore for work.

"I came to whisk you away on a romantic weekend. Are you game?" Marla stood there, stunned, as everyone laughed at her reaction. Marla hurriedly untied her apron and was around the counter and in his arms in a heartbeat. She didn't care that everyone started clapping happily, she was in heaven and in the arms of the man she loved, heart and soul.

"But what about the bakery and the dogs and...stuff?"

"All taken care of. Betsy and I worked it all out." "You don't have to ask me twice. When do we leave?" "Right now. I packed your bag and made arrangements for Lizzie to fill in for you and take care of the house and dogs. You're a free woman for the next three days, do you think you can handle it?" Pete laughed. "Definitely! Lead the way!" Marla turned back and waved to everyone, mouthing a big 'thank you' as she walked out the door.
CHAPTER 9

Their weekend together was pure bliss. As it turned out it had rained all weekend and neither of them seemed to mind at all. The entire weekend was 'clothing optional' as they enjoyed the complete privacy they didn't feel they had at her house, always worrying that someone was watching. Total freedom from all responsibilities for three blissful days, making love anywhere and everywhere they wanted. Never once did either of them feel bored or restless. Marla hadn't been this relaxed in the past three years and certainly never this in love either. Both Marla and Pete waited until the last possible moment to put their clothes on and say goodbye to their now favorite cabin in the woods. Pete chuckled to himself as they walked out the door.

"What?"

"I was just thinking that next time I won't go to the trouble of packing any clothes, just our toothbrushes and a comb and we'll be good to go." Marla blushed slightly at the thought of the previous weekend, still engulfed in the cozy feeling of being in Pete's arms.

"I think you've got a valid point there, Mr. Jensen," Marla agreed.

Both Pete and Marla hadn't expected a welcoming committee waiting for them when they pulled into the driveway, but there sat chubby, balding Dillon in his car that was parked in Marla's driveway. Pete and Dillon had rubbed each other the wrong way since day one and today was no different.

"Dillon, what the hell are you doing here?" Pete asked as he exited his car, noticing that the dogs weren't barking.

"Captain Perkins wanted me to wait for you to get home and bring you both to the station as soon as you got back." Giving Pete a warning look, Dillon continued. "Don't even bother going into the house, just go straight to the station." Pete nodded once to Dillon letting him know he got the message.

"Marla, we need to go straight to the station, Captain Perkins wants to talk to us." The look on Pete's face told Marla not to argue and she got back into the car quickly.

"What's wrong Pete, what's going on?" Marla asked nervously, wringing her hands together as her face began to pale with fright.

"I have no idea, but I'm sure we'll find out soon enough." He parked the car and hopped out before Marla could get her seat belt unbuckled. Marla felt like she was walking to her own execution. Captain Perkins was waiting at the police station door when they walked in and, without a word, motioned them into her office.

Pete and Marla sat in the Captain's office waiting for her to start the explanation.

"Marla, there's been an incident at your house this weekend. When Lizzie let herself into your house on Saturday afternoon she found all three dogs wounded inside the house. Someone had beaten them very badly. All three of them are at the vet's office recuperating." Marla's eyes filled with tears as she sat there, stunned silent while the pictures formed in her head. She hung her head, brushing her hand over her face to try and regain her composure.

"Again we found fingerprints of the same guy, Alonso Fortuna, all over the house. The vet expects them all to make it but they need to stay there for the next week or so. He assures me that they're sedated and not in pain." Captain Perkins paused for a moment to give the news time to sink in.

Marla closed her eyes, as if that would keep all the bad information out, saying a small prayer of thanks that everyone was alive and going to recover.

"Pete, you finally got a response from the Toronto P.D. and apparently this Fortuna dude was a pretty powerful player in the smuggling of diamonds before he was sent to face charges in the states. Our boys at the FBI are staying hush about how he supposedly died in federal prison while running around our fair city. As always, they're sending some agents to "neutralize" the situation. I still haven't been able to get a picture I.D. on Fortuna so he could be anywhere and we wouldn't know it. Toronto did venture a guess to say that the purse Marla was found with probably had some priceless diamonds sewn into the lining, a favorite smuggling tool of this guy. It must have taken him a while to find her, otherwise we would have had these problems sooner. Have you been able to locate any of the items Marla had at the time we found her?"

"Negative Captain. Hospital says the police have them, police say they left them at the hospital. Is there any place else I should check?" Pete asked.

"No, I have the evidence room technicians going through every piece of evidence we have stored in there on the off chance that it's been misfiled, but so far, nothing. Now for the other bombshell, Marla, the Canadian authorities have finally got back to us with a match on your fingerprints. According to them you were raised in a catholic orphanage and fingerprinted when you were released at age eighteen. Other than that they have no record of you. Your name when you lived in Toronto was Mary Margaret O'Toole. The nuns at the orphanage named you themselves and tell the authorities that your mother died after giving birth to you. Your father is listed as unknown. Even though the name O'Toole was given to you the nuns are pretty sure she made that up. To the best of their knowledge you have no other siblings and, apparently, you're not a citizen of the United States."

"Now that we have this lead we're looking into the question of your citizenship and that will take some time. Until we get this all straightened out the FBI has requested that we keep you in protective custody, at a safe house of our choosing. I have to agree with them on that point," Captain Perkins asserted. "Officer Dillon will take you to your safe house and stay with you."

Before Pete could say anything Captain Perkins held up her hand to silence him. "I know what you're going to say but I need you here, Jensen, and that's an order." Marla watched frustration cross Pete's face but he didn't say anything.

"How long do you think this might take to be resolved, Captain Perkins?" Marla asked with a shaky voice and tears filling her eyes.

"I truly have no idea, Marla, hopefully soon," She responded sympathetically.

"I want to visit the dogs before I go," Marla stated rather than asked.

"Not possible," Captain Perkins staccato voice spit out emphatically.

"Yes, it is. And just so you know, I'm telling you, not asking you. I have every intention of cooperating with you fully once I know my dogs are safe and on the mend." Marla asserted.

After a moment's hesitation Captain Perkins gave a nod of acceptance.

"Jensen make sure you give Dillon all the contact information you have on this case before he takes Marla to the vet's office. I'll have you stay here, Marla, until Dillon is ready to go." Pete sprang into action with Captain Perkins on his heels. Marla listened to Pete and Dillon's conversation.

"Are you upset, Jensen, because I'll be alone with you lover girl?" Dillon goaded.

"She's not my woman, Dillon. Marla's free to do as she pleases," Pete spat out angrily.

"Yeah, right. You mean to tell me you wouldn't be upset if I tried to seduce her?"

"Hey, go for it. I don't have any claim on her and it doesn't make any difference to me one way or the other. She's a free woman." He pressed back the anger and bitterness, knowing Dillon was just egging him on to get his jollies by pissing him off.

Marla couldn't believe what she was hearing. What was Pete talking about not having any claim on her? Of course he had a claim on her, he was her first and only lover! Didn't that mean anything to him? How could he even consider encouraging Dillon to go after her like she was a piece of meat? Tears sprang to Marla's eyes as the fact that she'd been used by Pete sank in. She clutched at her chest as she felt the physical pain of her breaking heart. When Dillon came into the office he saw that she was crying and for the first time expressed some genuine concern.

"Are you all right, Marla? Let me get you some tissues." Dillon ran to his desk and grabbed the open box of Kleenex and raced back into the Captain's office. Pete heard Marla sniffle then blow her nose and he had to turn away, unable to stop his feelings of inadequacy for not being able to solve this case sooner. It tore him up inside when she cried and his arms ached with wanting to comfort her, but this was neither the time nor place for words of love or consolation. He sat at his desk with his back to the door of the Captain's office and tried to concentrate on his assignment. Unfortunately he was more successful than he realized because the next time he stuck his head into the Captain's office Marla was already gone.

"Where'd they go?" Pete asked Captain Perkins in disbelief.

"They left about ten minutes ago, why?"

"I have Marla's suitcase in the trunk of my car and I was going to give it to her before she left."

"Too late. Bring it into my office. I'll make sure it gets to her." The Captain reassured him.

"I'll be glad to run it over to her if you'll tell me where Dillon took her." Pete offered hopefully.

"Sorry, need to know basis only and you're not on the list. I'll take care of it."

Pete sat at his desk and sulked about the fact that he hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye to Marla before she'd left. Dammit! He had no way of contacting her now. He considered asking the Captain to deliver a note to her from him, but he didn't want it to seem like they were in high school, passing secret love notes like two teenagers. Suddenly it occurred to him that the bakery might have trouble functioning and he went back into the Captain's office.

"What about the bakery? What' going to happen while she's gone?"

"Closed until further notice. We already posted a sign on the door."

"But what if she loses her employees? They have to make a living like everyone else."

"I suppose they'll do what they have to do to survive. They might be entitled to unemployment benefits if Marla agrees to that. Frankly, it's really not my priority or problem at the moment, or yours for that matter. We all heard your rather loud assessment of your relationship with Marla. Apparently it's not as important to you as we all thought, so don't worry about it." Pete's face went ghostly white as he plopped his large body into the chair across from her desk.

"Something wrong, Jensen?"

"Do you think Marla heard that too?"

"I don't see how she could have missed it, you were rather yelling it around the office. Listen, I don't have time to play Dear Abby right now and we have more important problems to deal with at the moment. Has it occurred to you that if you can't locate Marla's legal entry into this country she could very well be deported?" At that Pete's head snapped up in shock. Captain Perkins read his reaction in his face.

"Exactly. You better get on that right away." Pete swallowed hard and went back to work in a daze.

Marla sat in the backseat of Dillon's car, dazed and confused by the events of the day. She closed her sore and swollen eyes, exhausted both emotionally and physically. Thankfully, Dillon left her to her own thoughts and didn't bother with any idle chit chat. She had so many thoughts swirling through her mind that she was unable to concentrate on any single one for a reasonable length of time. All she wanted to do was find a bed and pull the covers over her head. Marla couldn't believe how the last three years of her life had come full circle. Three years ago she had woken up in the hospital with only the clothes on her back. Now she sat in the back of a police car with only the clothes on her back. Three long years of hard work and determination down the drain. Oh wait, she did have something more than she'd had last time, this time she could add a broken heart to her list of possessions. Marla's stomach churned on itself, causing her to feel nauseous after all the riding in cars she'd done today.

"Dillon, how much longer will it be? I'm not feeling very well. I think I'm getting a little car sick."

"We only have about five more minutes. Do you need me to pull over?" Dillon seemed obliging enough to Marla.

"I think I can make it that long. Do we have any bottled water or anything else cold to drink in the car?"

"No, but I'll call ahead and make sure there's some in the room for you." Dillon flipped open his phone and spoke to someone, quickly giving orders for cold drinks and some crackers to help settle her stomach. Suddenly Marla had another thought and jumped visibly when it struck her.

"Dillon, Lizzie's all right isn't she? I mean, she didn't get hurt, did she?" She would feel terrible if anything happened to her.

"She's just fine, Marla. She was a little shaken when she saw the dogs but she handled it beautifully. Instead of trying to pick up any of the dogs and hurting them more, she called the vet and he came to the house. He medicated the dogs so they wouldn't feel a thing and then he and Lizzie moved them to the clinic. She wouldn't let anyone in the house until the dogs were safely in the vet's car. I guess she was afraid that the strangers would upset them. She was a rock until the crisis was over, then she fell apart. You couldn't have had anyone do any better under the circumstances. I know I was impressed." By the time Dillon finished his explanation they were pulling into a parking lot of some hotel. They came in through the back so Marla didn't even know what hotel she was at, let alone what city she was in, and she didn't really care.

When Dillon stopped the car a man whose demeanor screamed cop opened the car door, as he constantly scanned the surrounding area for any signs of danger. He never said a word and simply nodded a greeting to Marla as she passed. She had no idea who he worked for, but she knew it wasn't the Wynott P.D. Marla knew everyone on the force back in Wynott, or at least she thought she had. She had trusted Pete with her most precious possession, her heart, and he had taken a hammer and shattered it into a million tiny bits. She never saw it coming. It had never once occurred to her that he was just filling the boring hours he was forced to spend with her by taking her to bed. Hell, he was even willing to share her with Dillon. Pete probably felt sorry for Dillon having to spend all these hours with her, bored out of his mind just like Pete had been.

Marla didn't even bother to take in her surroundings. She headed straight for the mini-fridge and took out a cold bottle of water. She spotted the bed and laid down immediately, calling to Dillon as her stomach continued to roll in and out of nausea.

"Dillon, do we have any nighttime sleep aids? Maybe some Tylenol PM or something like that," Marla asked.

"I'll find something for you. Still not feeling any better?"

"No. I think I just need a good night's sleep, at least I hope that's all I need. On second thought, anything I take will just upset my stomach more. I'll just skip the pills."

As it turned out she hadn't needed any sleep aid at all, she was sound asleep within fifteen minutes. She never even made it under the covers and was still fully dressed when she fell into her restless sleep.

********

As days turned into weeks and then weeks turned into months, Marla sank deeper and deeper into depression. She now barely spoke at all except when forced to answer a question. Eating had become a chore she'd begun to hate, constantly nauseous and tired. Dillon, and eventually Captain Perkins, decided that they needed to bring in a doctor to examine Marla and possibly prescribe an anti-depressant. Captain Perkins made arrangements with the FBI to have one of their physicians meet Dillon and Marla at a medical clinic about an hour's drive south of their location.

Dillon was impressed when the doctor turned out to be a mid-thirties female with an understanding air about her. Dillon escorted the doctor and Marla into a windowless examination room and closed the door, taking a chair and sitting across from the treatment room door. Funny, Dillon had been worried before this assignment started that Marla would talk his ears off, now he craved some adult conversation that consisted of more than one word answers.

Dr. Stravinsky was appalled at the condition she found Marla in. Her immediate assessment was that she was severely malnourished. Even though Marla obeyed her instructions she was barely verbal, never making eye contact with her. Dr. Stravinsky had Dillon escort Marla to the bathroom so she could get a urine sample, performing the lab tests right in the exam room. She did a complete physical exam, including pap smear, and waited for Marla to get dressed again before discussing her findings.

"Marla, do you know why you're here?" Dr. Stravinsky asked.

"Yes, for a medical examination."

"Are you aware that I work for the FBI with the very highest security clearance possible?"

"No, I wasn't aware of that."

"Well it's true. Also, I'm a trained physician and a psychiatrist as well. Officer Dillon and Captain Perkins are very concerned about both your physical and emotional state and asked me to do an assessment." Dr. Stravinsky paused momentarily. "I promise you to be totally honest with you, but in return I expect the same from you. Is that a deal?"

"Sure, I have nothing to hide." Marla shrugged her shoulders.

"I need you to trust me enough for you to tell me why you're in protective custody and how you feel about things. Why don't we start from when you first came to Wynott. I'm aware of some of the facts of the case but I want to hear it from you."

At first Marla was hesitant, but once she started she found she couldn't stop even if she wanted to. At times she cried and at other times, like when she talked about starting up the bakery, she was actually happy and animated. When the subject turned to Pete, Marla openly sobbed, barely getting out the story because her breath kept catching with every word. By the time Marla finished she felt like she'd been through a train wreck. Emotionally exhausted, she could feel the tears drying on her cheeks and her eyes felt swollen and burned with every blink of her eyes. Marla had no idea that she had talked non-stop for over an hour, only pausing if the doctor asked her a question.

"Wow, that's a lot of burden you're carrying around. Any normal human being would be overwhelmed, but you're stronger than you think, Marla. Now that you've had the time to think things over, you need to stop sucking your thumb and take some positive actions. Pity party is over now." Marla had expected some sympathy and consolation, not tough love.

"What?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You heard me. No more sitting around the room and feeling sorry for yourself. This isn't just about you anymore. Marla, you're pregnant. My guess would be about three months along. Did you ever think you might be or did you even notice that you hadn't had a period since coming into custody?" Dr. Stravinsky said almost accusingly.

"No, but you're right, now that I think about it."

"How do you feel about it?" Dr. Stravinsky asked.

"I'm stunned but I can't say I'm disappointed. Babies are miracles." Slowly a smile spread across Marla's face as the shock and awe set in. Finally she answered. "Happy. I'm actually happy!" Marla said with disbelief.

"Good! Now, what are you going to do about it?" Dr. Stravinsky asked.

"What do you mean? Are you suggesting I get an abortion, because I won't! You'll have to kill me before I'll give up this baby! How dare you even suggest...."

"Hold it! Stop your roll there, girl. That wasn't what I meant. I meant that you're going to eat regularly, get regular exercise, and take your prenatal vitamins, stuff like that."

"Oh. Sorry. I guess I overreacted a bit."

"I'm not sorry. At least you reacted instead of slipping back into your own little world. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to make arrangements for a treadmill to be brought to your room and I expect you to use it two or three times per day for a minimum of thirty minutes each session. Nothing strenuous, mind you. Just like an easy stroll in the park kind of pace. I'm making sure you have some books delivered to your room on pregnancy but also some pleasure reading. What kind of books do you usually like to read?"

"I like different kinds of fiction. Romance, mysteries, paranormal, anything except spy novels. Those bore me to tears."

"Good enough. Next I'm going to prescribe a mild, safe anti-depressant that I want you to take faithfully, no skipping doses. What kind of movies do you like to watch?"

"Comedies, biographies, action, suspense, mystery, same as the books, but again no spy stuff."

"All right, I'll send those along too. I'm also going to arrange a laptop for playing games on. Do you like solitaire, scrabble, stuff like that?"

"Yes, I love them. I don't usually have the time for them though."

"Well you do now, so enjoy it while you can. I want you to take a nap every afternoon, even if you don't feel tired. I want you to lay down for at least a half hour. Is there anything else you would like to help pass the time? Do you knit or do needlepoint?" Dr. Stravinsky asked more kindly now.

"No, sounds like you've covered everything I like to do."

"Good, now for the hard part. Once every day I want you to write in a journal, even if it's just one sentence. It can be anything that pops into your head. It doesn't even have to make sense to anyone but you. Hell, you can even write in secret code if you want, just make sure you do it. On a separate page I want you to start listing positive steps you can take once you're not in custody to start getting your life back together. It can be something as simple as going back to organic eating or as hard as starting-up your bakery business again. Do you understand?" Dr. Stravinsky asked again.

"Yes. What should I do about Pete knowing about the baby? We're not allowed contact but I feel he has a right to know he's going to be a father."

"Well, you can have Captain Perkins tell him or I can call him for you if you give me permission to disclose your medical information to him. Which way do you want it handled?" Dr. Stravinsky offered.

"Could you arrange a meeting with both Captain Perkins and Pete together and tell them both at the same time? I don't get to see Captain Perkins on a regular basis but I think she has a right to know too." "Sure, consider it done. Anything else? "Yes. Thank you. I can't believe how much better I feel just having someone to talk to, and I promise to do everything you asked." Marla had tears in her eyes but she fought them back. Crying time is over, Marla decided.
CHAPTER 10

Pete rubbed his hand over his face for about the fiftieth time that day. Frustration was his constant companion now that Marla had been removed from his life. He worked day and night trying to figure out how Marla had entered the country. Unfortunately Pete was not getting as much cooperation as he had hoped from the Canadian government. Even though the United States had good relations with Canada, Pete was constantly being reminded that theirs was a socialist government and not a democracy. Because of this fact there was no point in going to supervisors or trying to sway them with public opinion because they simply didn't care. Captain Perkins had even tried, supervisor to supervisor, and came up just as empty as Pete.

Pete was further frustrated at not being on the 'need to know' list regarding Marla's whereabouts. He desperately needed to talk to her and straighten things out. God, she must think I'm such an asshole. Why hadn't he just come out and told her he loved her during their weekend together? This whole disaster was stretching out way longer than anyone had originally thought, and Pete was curious whether the FBI had taken Alonso Fortuna into custody.

He made a habit of checking on things at Marla's house and nothing new had happened. Pete had gone to the vet's office and taken the dogs back to his house to live, even putting in a pet door so they'd feel at home. In just two more weeks their casts would come off and they'd be good as new, according to the vet. He was surprised at how much he liked these dogs and how much he enjoyed even having a dog. He'd always loved animals but had never owned one himself, mostly because living in an apartment in New York was not the best place to keep a dog. He was definitely more of a dog person than a cat person, although he couldn't say he disliked cats, he just had no desire to have one.

When Pete heard Captain Perkins call him from the door of her office he responded immediately, maybe there was some good news for a change. He was taken aback to see that there was another person seated in her office. Someone he didn't recognize and hadn't seen walk in. Captain Perkins introduced her as Dr. Stravinsky and asked Pete to have a seat. Once the captain took her seat behind the desk she began the meeting.

"Tell me what we can do for you, Dr. Stravinsky," Captain Perkins asked calmly.

"Well, I'm here at the request of my patient, Marla Winters. As you know Captain, I was asked to do a complete examination on her based on her behavior over the past month."

"Wait. What behaviors? What's wrong?" Pete looked accusingly at the Captain. "Why didn't you tell me she was having problems?"

"You're not on the list, Jensen, and you know it."

"Fuck your list!" Pete said as he pointed a finger at the Captain.

"I think you two can have this conversation without an audience, since that's not the reason for my visit." Both nodded in agreement.

"Let me fill you in Mr. Jensen. Marla has been suffering from a deep depression and that has caused her to stop eating, sleep excessively and stop verbal communication. Because of these behaviors, Captain Perkins requested a complete physical, which I completed earlier this week. Marla has now requested that I meet with both of you to give you the findings." Dr. Stravinsky watched Pete nervously bob his leg as he sat anxiously in the chair, clearly struggling to maintain control of himself.

"And exactly what are those findings doctor?" Captain Perkins asked impatiently.

"She's very malnourished and from what I can tell by the way her clothes are fitting it looks as if she's lost a good fifteen to twenty pounds. I'm also able to confirm the depression, but the biggest finding was the fact that she's pregnant." Dr. Stravinsky watched Pete's reaction and was pleased when he burst out in a huge smile.

"I'm going to be a father! That's incredible! How does Marla feel about it? Is she happy about it? She wouldn't get an abortion, would she?"

"She's thrilled and I have to say it's given her a new lease on life. I've still prescribed a mild anti-depressant and, Captain Perkins, I've assembled a list of things I want taken care of immediately." Dr. Stravinsky went to hand the list to Captain Perkins but Pete snatched it out of her hands before she could grab it. He immediately started looking over the list, mumbling 'um, uh,' and other grunts of agreement as he made his way down the list. When he was done he turned to Dr. Stravinsky.

"How far along is she?"

"My guess would be about two and a half to three months along. Normally I would do an ultrasound for confirmation, but I didn't have access to an ultrasound machine that day. Once she's out of custody her regular ob/gyn will do one."

"Is she all right? Does she have morning sickness? You put her on prenatal vitamins, right?" Pete was babbling off questions faster than the doctor could answer them, so she just nodded yes until he finished.

"She's had some morning sickness, yes, but she should be coming out of that soon. As you saw by the list of instructions she's to have a nap every day and eat regularly. I have to say she was in much better spirits when I left than when I'd gotten there. You were right, Captain Perkins, she needed someone to talk to and we did that for almost three hours. I'd be very surprised if she didn't follow all her instructions to the letter, she's very excited about the baby and would never do anything to jeopardize this pregnancy. Oh, and by the way, congratulations Mr. Jensen." Dr. Stravinsky smiled widely at Pete, finding herself hoping everything worked out well for the couple.

"Captain Perkins may I please have a few private minutes with the doctor?" She nodded her agreement as she made her way to the door.

Once she closed the door, Pete began to spill his concerns about Marla and their relationship, fully accepting responsibility for what he had stupidly said to Dillon.

"I guess my question is, do you think she'll listen to me when I try to explain what an asshole I was? Do you have any advice about how I should approach her? I can't help but feel the longer this goes on the worse it will be."

"Pete I can't divulge what Marla and I discussed, but I can tell you my overall impressions, and they are that she loves you very much but has been terribly hurt. I agree that the longer this goes on the worse it will be, but you need to look at it from her point of view too. You can expect some resistance. You'll have to prove yourself again to her. That you're trustworthy and dependable and that you love her and are happy about the baby. One very good sign is that no matter how hurt and angry she is at you, she still wanted me to tell you about the baby. She's afraid she won't get the chance and she wanted you to know. That bodes well for you."

"I've considered sending her a letter through Captain Perkins but I was afraid that was too high school type behavior. At the time I didn't think this would be going on this long. What are your thoughts on that?"

I think that's a wonderful idea. Pour your heart out and tell her the truth. Try to write it as if you were talking to her in person. If you make it too stiff and formal she'll reject the information. The worst it can do is not work, and then you'll still be no worse off that you are today."

"God, I can't tell you how much I appreciate all you've done for Marla. It sounds like she really needed you. Baby or no baby, I can't stand the thought of her being so unhappy. She's everything to me, absolutely everything." Tears rolled freely down Pete's cheeks as he felt his burden lift the same way Marla's probably had after her talk with Dr. Stravinsky.

"One more question. Do you have a private practice somewhere that we could go to if we need to?" Dr. Stravinsky smiled and reached into her briefcase. She pulled out a business card with just her name and a phone number on it.

"You can call me anytime at this number. If I don't answer make sure you leave a message or call back, don't give up trying to get me. I'll be happy to help you any way I can." "Thank you." Pete hugged her hard and quick and then headed for the door. "I'll get Captain Perkins back in here for you."

"Thank you." Pete hugged her hard and quick and then headed for the door. "I'll get Captain Perkins back in here for you."

Pete was flying high, thrilled not only with the news of the baby but with the fact that he could finally tell Marla how he felt about her. With each passing day he had felt ready to explode from bottling up his feelings and having no outlet for them. Maybe it was more about unburdening his guilty conscience over his abhorrent behavior, but any feelings he gushed about to her would be the gospel truth. He said a little prayer, asking for guidance and wisdom. from the lord above. Pete located Captain Perkins and directed her back to her office as promised, then headed for home, anxious to get started on the letter.

Now that Pete faced the huge expanse of the empty sheet of paper, he realized this might be just a little harder than he originally thought. The only thing that kept running through his mind was what an idiot he was. After fighting that impulse for quite a while he decided to go with it.

Dear Marla:

I am without a doubt the biggest asshole in the whole wide world. I hurt you with my callous remarks to Dillon that I didn't even mean and I have no defense for my actions. I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to set eyes on me again. I deserve every bad thought you have of me. Am I groveling? Absolutely. Am I begging your forgiveness? Definitely. Do I expect forgiveness? No. I wouldn't blame you one bit if you never wanted to see me again, but I'll leave that decision to you and pray you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

Let me make this perfectly clear, I LOVE YOU! I should have said those words so long ago, because I've known for a long time but was too wrapped-up in my own fears to say it. Pitiful, isn't it? When Dr. Stravinsky told me about the baby I was so happy I was sure my heart would leap out of my chest. I'm sure I don't deserve this much happiness and I'm so grateful that you decided to keep the baby. Our baby. Created out of love, because I know you love me, too.

Please Marla, take good care of yourself and our baby. I would never presume that you would forgive me, so I'm just going to ask you to stay well until we can see each other again, but that's your choice. I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! Please give me another chance to prove it. I'll gladly shout it out to anyone who'll listen, in the middle of the street, at a town hall meeting, on a billboard, anywhere you wish, just say the word and I'll gladly do it. Anything you ask, I'll do without hesitation or question.

Stay well, my love.

Love,

Pete

P.S.: I'm happy to tell you that the dogs are doing very well. They're staying with me now and I even installed a pet door for them. Curly confided to me that they all miss you very much and can't wait to see you again. I'm sure I'm just a poor substitute for their true love, you. Just as you're my one and only true love.

Pete read the letter over and over again but didn't change a thing. He knew it was pitiful the way he groveled and begged but he also knew everything he'd written was the God's honest truth, so he let it stand. He carefully folded the letter and put it in an envelope, sealing it tightly. Pete had no reasonable expectations of how Marla would react to the letter, so he decided to be patient and let it just play out. One thing he did have control over was getting it into the hands of Captain Perkins, so he headed straight for the police station, knowing she was working killer hours trying to figure this case out.

When Pete knocked on the Captain's door she didn't look surprised to see him at all, in fact a slow smile came to her lips.

"Dr. Stravinsky told me to expect a visit from you. Have you finished the letter?" Captain Perkins asked.

"Yes. Do you know when you'll be able to get it to her?" Pete didn't want to make any demands but he was anxious, to say the least.

"Will later tonight suit you?" She smiled.

"That would be fantastic, thank you."

"No problem. Just so I don't have to open this, I assume there's nothing in here about the case. Am I correct?"

"Nothing at all, I promise. I had too many other things to clear up to get into all that. But now that you mention it, there is something that's bothering me about the case. I haven't been able to find any way Marla could have come into this country, but have you ever noticed that Marla doesn't have a Canadian accent? I know Canadian accents aren't that pronounced but she has no trace of an accent. Don't you find that strange?" Pete asked.

"I never thought about it but now that you mention it, you're right. I would have noticed too because I have some family in Canada myself, and I always notice their accent. Good point Jensen. Let me think about this for a while, see what possibilities I can come up with."

"Thank you Captain." Pete left her office now deep in thought, back on the case of Marla's citizenship. Possibly the reason Pete hadn't been able to locate a green card on Marla is because she never needed one in the first place. It suddenly occurred to Pete that the FBI had been aware of this fact all along. Maybe they didn't say anything because they wanted the Wynott P.D. to stay out of their hair while they tried to locate Alonso Fortuna. He certainly wouldn't put it past them, they usually had a whole separate agenda from the one they presented to the brass in the department. Well, their free time had run out because now Pete was determined to make himself their least favorite police officer.

********

On a hunch, Pete decided to search all the databases available to him with different names that were variations of Marla Winters. After a week of searching he finally hit on a possibility, Marla Summers. The main reason he felt this might be a good possibility was because the information required a security clearance to access it on the FBI database, the same type of clearance that was required to access Alonso Fortuna's information. Suddenly a very bad, sinking feeling struck Pete like a fist to the stomach. What if the fake husband, Brett Noble, was really this character Alonso Fortuna? That would mean that they had him in custody and let him slip through their fingers. It didn't matter that his fingerprints didn't match any on record. That could be fixed easily if the FBI was motivated to do so. Pete sat at his desk for a long time trying to think of all the possibilities. Finally he started a list that he intended to show Captain Perkins when she returned to the office.

After two days of waiting for the Captain to return to work, Pete decided to take matters into his own hands. He started working his way up the chain of command within the police department. All his attempts to talk to the chain of command went unanswered, totally ignored, as if he'd never called or stopped by their offices. Pete paced the hallways of the police station, trying to figure out what was going on. Where was Captain Perkins? Was Marla all right? What was the FBI trying to hide and why? They had to have a motivation and ninety nine percent of the time it was to cover someone's ass. If Captain Perkins was missing who was Dillon reporting to now? What information did the Captain have that they didn't want her sharing with anyone else?

Pete decided he needed to look through the captain's office for some answers. He walked casually by her door and gave the door knob a brief jiggle. Locked. That was pretty standard operating procedure. There was no way he would be able to pick the lock during regular business hours. There would be too many witnesses and not enough time. He'd have to come back in the wee hours of the morning, when there was practically no one around but the janitor.

By three o'clock in the morning Pete found himself inside the office and using a small pen light to try and pick the locks on the Captain's desk drawers. Each drawer had its own separate lock and Pete swore to himself as he picked the first lock. He rummaged through but only found some necessary office supplies along with some of her personal items. After finding nothing of significance in six of the seven drawers, he had almost given up hope. The bottom right hand drawer, however, contained a gold mine of information. What worried him most was the fact that the Captains gun was still in the drawer. That meant that wherever she was he had to assume she was unarmed. That also told him that she felt safe going wherever she had to go. It suddenly occurred to him that his letter to Marla wasn't anywhere in her office. Did something happen to her on the way to visit Marla? It was a very good possibility. She had mentioned that she was going to visit Marla the same day he gave her the letter. That was the last conversation he'd had with her. He also found in the drawer the original file about Marla's case, and it wasn't the same one he'd been given when he started on this case. He grabbed the file and decided to grab his copy and compare them in the privacy of his own home. He had no idea who he could trust, so he decided he'd trust no one for now. He also decided he needed to go through Dillon's desk as well. He wanted to see if Dillon had a picture of Brett Noble or Alonso Fortuna hidden somewhere in the dark recesses of his desk. Dillon was a slob and Pete considered grabbing a pair of gloves before going through the desk. He needed to protect himself from any communicable diseases that may live in there. A shiver ran down his spine and he decided to grab the gloves. He didn't want to leave any fingerprints anyway.

Pete smelled the stench of decaying food as he approached Dillon's desk. Now he understood why his desk was set apart from everyone else's, it stunk to high heaven. Pete gagged as he got closer and closer to the desk. He encountered again the locked desk drawers. What? Was Dillon afraid someone might steal his Twinkies? Pete was totally grossed out as he picked the one and only lock on Dillon's desk. When he opened the center drawer he found a clump of empty candy wrappers on top of some files. When he pulled out the files he couldn't believe his eyes. There was yet another file on Marla, a file on Brett Noble and a file on Alonso Fortuna. There were jelly and chocolate stains on the jackets of the files as Pete jammed them into the briefcase he'd brought along. He'd decided to bring everything home with him and review it there. Since no one was answering his calls from inside the department he didn't bother calling in and telling them that he wouldn't be in tomorrow. He hoped he'd have at least a few days before anyone discovered the missing files. To all outward appearances no one seemed to care that the Captain was missing, so maybe they wouldn't miss a few harmless files.

********

Marla woke from her nap to yelling voices in the living room of her hotel suite. The yelling was very brief but the argument continued in loud whispers. She decided to lay there and see if she could gather any new information about what was going on, maybe even getting released soon. Something about the conversation had the hair on the back of her neck standing up. One thing that warned her was that one of the voices was female, so she knew someone else was there with her and Dillon. Marla as having trouble making out what was being said, so she silently slipped closer to the crack of the door that had been left open at Dillon's insistence. She peeked through the crack of the door and was shocked to see Captain Perkins in the arms of Dillon as he tried to console her. That certainly was new! She had no idea that Captain Perkins was romantically involved with Dillon, and she knew Pete didn't know either, he would have told her something like that. Marla stood and thought for a minute while she tried to make sense of the situation. When Marla heard the conversation ice slid down her spine.

"Come on baby, she's bound to remember something soon. Hell, at least the little zombie is talking now." Dillon reassured Captain Perkins.

"This is going south fast Alonso and I'm not willing to murder anyone for any amount of money or diamonds. As it is we're looking at the rest of our lives in prison if they ever find out what we're up to." Captain Perkins admitted.

Alonso! Dillon is really this Alonso character they've been talking about! Marla put the thoughts to the back of her mind so she could concentrate on what else was being said.

"It will never come to that, I promise you. Even if it did, you know I'd take care of it for you. I'd never involve you in murder, you know that don't you?" Captain Perkins nodded her head yes.

"Tell me what's got you so spooked all of the sudden." Alonso/Dillon asked.

"That fucking Jensen is snooping around. The bastard even wrote Marla a love letter. What an ass."

"Where's the letter now?" Alonso/Dillon snapped.

"I burned it and let the wind take the ashes away as I drove out of town. No one will ever find a trace of it, I made sure it was crumpled into tiny ashes before the wind took it."

"Good. Now he'll just think she's still pissed. Go on with the story."

"He suddenly realized that Marla doesn't have a Canadian accent, so now he's looking back here to the United States databases again. If he figures out what her real name is, we're screwed!" Captain Perkins was almost yelling again and Alonso/Dillon shushed her quickly.

"Is that all? Pete Jensen will never figure everything out and even if he does he'll have to prove it. We'll be long gone by then, sipping exotic drinks on some beach somewhere. Relax. We've still got plenty of time." He consoled. "I told you I put password protection on any file that might help him figure out who Marla is. By the time he realizes that we were able to fake all this protective custody shit, let alone the FBI scam, he'll be retired. He's not the sharpest crayon in the box and you know it." Alonso/Dillon reassured her.

"But Alonso, I'm scared." Alonso/Dillon suddenly punched Captain Perkins in the jaw, knocking her to the floor. Now Marla saw true evil in his face, red with anger and eyes bulging.

"Don't call me that here in this room ever again. Do you want to blow this whole thing? It's Dillon, you stupid bitch." He spoke to her through gritted teeth, keeping his voice low but menacing.

Marla expected Captain Perkins to get up and put him in his place. Instead what she saw was pitiful.

"Oh, I'm sorry Dillon, I forgot. Please don't be mad at me, I won't do it again. I promise. Don't be mad, please." Alonso/Dillon was right, she was a stupid bitch, she got up all right but instead of putting him in his place she was groveling and hugging him fiercely, begging his forgiveness. And they thought Pete was stupid?

"You better go check on our hostage and make sure she's still sleeping." Alonso/Dillon ordered as his face regained its normal, ugly paleness. Marla ran back to the bed and laid down, pretending to be asleep, when Captain Perkins peeked into the room. She stood there for several minutes to be sure before going back into the living room. Marla laid there and waited to hear talking in the living room again before she bolted silently back to the crack, now a little wider thanks to Captain Perkins. What she saw next she would never forget for the rest of her life, however short it may be.
CHAPTER 11

Marla had her hand clamped tightly over her mouth trying to be sure no one heard her muffled gasp. Alonso/Dillon walked up behind Captain Perkins and put his arms around her waist as he gently kissed her neck.

"She still sleeping?" He asked huskily.

"Like a baby." Captain Perkins replied as his hands began to roam over her body intimately. She rested her head back onto his chest and let him have complete access to her body, moaning softly with pleasure. With one swift movement he snapped her neck like a twig and allowed her body to fall limply to the floor.

Her lifeless eyes stared ahead, nearly boring a hole through the partially closed bedroom door, as she lay on the floor of the living room. Alonso/Dillon stared down at her for a moment, shaking his head as if in disgust at the situation he had just created, before heading into his bedroom. He was back in no time with a large tarp that he spread on the floor, rolling the captain's body onto the edge. He grabbed the edge of the tarp before continuing to roll her lifeless body into the tarp like an egg roll. He ran back into his room and quickly returned with a large roll of duct tape. Carefully he rolled-up both the top and bottom of the tarp and sealed it off with duct tape. He then moved the tape down the length of the tarp, making the package now look like a mummy before dragging it into his room and closing the door. Placing a hasty call on his cell phone he selected a number from his speed dial. After a moment he spoke quickly and quietly into the phone.

"Got a package for you to dispose of for me. Wait 'til tonight, midnight, and come pick it up. I'll make sure our guest is sleeping." Alonso/Dillon disconnected the phone and then glanced at the open door of Marla's room. Afraid if she tried to dash back to bed he'd see the movement through the crack, she quickly backed into the bathroom and closed the door quietly. She waited a moment or two and then flushed the toilet, then again waited a few seconds and started to run the water in the sink as she washed her hands, taking the time to splash cold water on her face in an effort to wash the memory from her mind. Panic stricken, but knowing that she needed to act normal, she looked in the mirror and messed her hair. Trying to make it look like she'd been in a very sound sleep. She turned off the water and exited the bathroom, pretending to be surprised that Dillon was in her room she jumped slightly. She stifled a fake yawn before speaking to him.

"Hey, how's it going? God, I slept so hard I'm having a little trouble waking up." Marla scratched her head sleepily and yawned widely again. Subtly she cleared her throat before speaking again, careful to not make eye contact.

"Is it lunchtime yet? I'm starving. Maybe that's why I woke up, the baby needs food." Marla smiled as she slowly made her way to the bed and put on her slippers. When Alonso/Dillon didn't answer immediately, she pretended to be concerned. She forced herself to go to Alonso/Dillon and touch his arm lightly. "Is everything all right, Dillon? You're not answering me." Her touch made him jump. Making eye contact he answered her smoothly, smiling as he spoke.

"Everything's great. How about Subway for lunch?"

"Yummy. Can you order me a twelve inch today, I'm really starving? I think I'll take a hot bath while we're waiting for it to come." Marla casually moved around the room, gathering everything she would need for her bath and trying to hum calmly.

"Oooh. Can I get a strawberry shake too? Calcium you know. It's good for the baby." Marla smiled as she passed him on the way to the bathroom. "I'll take the usual, tuna salad with everything, for the sub. Knock when it gets here, all right?" She looked back over her shoulder at Alonso/Dillon, closing and locking the bathroom door behind her. With the bathwater running loudly she sat on the edge of the tub with her head in her hands, crying silently. How in the world was she going to get out of this mess?

********

Pete was getting aggravated with his cell phone ringing once or twice and then, when he answered it, there was no one on the other end. After the third time in less than an hour he'd had enough, putting a trace on his own cell phone. He'd at least get to the bottom of this problem, since nothing else was making any sense either. Marla's case was cold as ice. Nothing was making sense and Captain Perkins was still missing, or at least he thought so. No one except him seemed to be too concerned about her not coming into work. He had tried to meet with the chief of police, even the mayor, but apparently they were away on a fishing trip together. He discovered they had been best friends since childhood and this wasn't unusual behavior for them. They'd be back later today and, if necessary, Pete would go to the chief's house to get a minute alone with him. Again his cell phone rang with the same 'unknown' number appearing on his caller I.D. He decided to let it go to voice mail. Sure no one was there anyway.

Pete went back to the task of trying to figure out the password for Marla's protected files. He had been able to find out through an old acquaintance that there was a computer program that he could run that might figure out the password for him. He didn't know Captain Perkins well enough to guess at what the password might be.

After spending a couple of hours on the password game he'd been playing with the computer he glanced at his phone, noticing that the message light was blinking. Maybe it was some good news for a change. He put the phone on speaker so he could get a fresh cup of coffee while he listened to the message.

"Pete! It's Marla! Captain Perkins is dead and Dillon is really Alonso Fortuna. He's the one that killed Captain Perkins. We're at the Marriot in....." Then the message stopped as he heard the click of the hang-up. Pete ran to the phone and listened to it three more times, then turned to his computer to try and trace where the call had come from. Unfortunately his computer was still busy running the password program. He tried to kill the program but it simply ignored every command Pete gave it. He grabbed his coat and ran to his car, trying to get to the police station and a working computer. He prayed that there was a long enough message to even narrow down which towers had been used to make the call.

After working out where the call had come from and which Marriott's were within that coverage area, Pete headed for the chief's office. His secretary sat smugly at her desk, using it like a shield of armor, as she explained that the chief wasn't in and she didn't have any idea when he would be. Impatiently Pete explained that this was a matter of life and death, requiring the chief's immediate attention.

After thinking about it for a moment she finally called the chief's cell phone, nervously explaining why she was interrupting him, when Pete grabbed the phone and identified himself. He quickly tried to explain the situation but was halted when the chief bellowed into the phone that he had no idea what the fuck Pete was talking about. That was enough to get Pete's attention, and he started back at the beginning, frustrated and pacing in front of the secretary's desk as he explained everything all over again. Revelations came over the phone, one after the other, slapping at Pete as if physical blows. Blinking furiously as he digested the information one piece at a time. He realized there was no FBI involvement, the chief had never heard of Marla, although he did admit to knowing the bakery well. Furthermore, he had never heard of anyone named Alonso Fortuna, knew nothing about Marla being in protective custody, and hadn't heard from Captain Perkins since before he had left on his fishing trip. This forced Pete to slow his roll even further, explaining everything as if the chief were a three year old, ending his lecture by playing the message from his phone into the receiver for the chief to listen to.

"This is quite a fantastic story you just told me Officer Jensen. What is it you expect me to do about it?"

"I need several police departments to check with their local Marriott's and see if anyone matching Dillon or Marla's description are staying there. I'll start driving there now, since it's a few hour's drive from here. Once we locate them I'm going to need backup before I go in. We can't tip them off or we'll end up with a standoff on our hands and possibly a few more death's. I need the element of surprise if this plan is going to work. I'll need you to make the arrangements with the other departments, maybe even designate someone in the squad room as liaison while I'm on the road."

"Done. Keep in touch and give the phone back to my secretary so I can get started." Pete thrust the phone back to the secretary, explaining that the chief needed to talk to her as he ran out the door.

Pete jogged to his car, filling up at the police gas pump while he looked at the map and planned his route. Within fifteen minutes he was speeding out of Wynott, siren off but lights on, to find Marla and his baby.

Marla cut off the call quickly when she heard the toilet flush, knowing it would just be a matter of seconds before Alonso/Dillon came back into the room. She quickly put it the phone back, carefully making sure it was exactly as he'd left it, and went back to the movie she'd pretended to be watching in her room. She had lain back on the bed as if she'd never left, pretending to be engrossed in the film. Lucky for her she had seen Fried Green Tomatoes so many times she knew it by heart, just in case he tried to question her about it later. At least this time she had gotten some of her story out before she'd had to hang-up. Wishing she could get her hands on a laxative of some type so she'd have some time alone with Dillon's cell phone.

Alonso/Dillon wasn't one to linger in the bathroom, so Marla didn't have many opportunities with the phone. Next time she got alone with the phone she decided to just pick-up the conversation where she had just left off. No starting from the beginning now that half the story was already out. Eventually she'd get the story out, as long as she was able to keep up the charade of everything being normal. She shuttered at the thought that soon Alonso/Dillon's patience would run out, causing him to become violent. If she knew where the damn diamonds were she would gladly tell him, but she didn't.

All Marla cared about was staying alive and, in turn, keeping her baby alive. She had decided that once this whole ordeal was over she would go to a new town and start over yet again, someplace where she could raise her baby anonymously, maybe even changing her name again, just for the fun of it this time. At least she had a decent savings account to tide her over until she found a job. This time she wanted a bigger town. A place with better job opportunities, public transportation and a good school system, not that Wynott's schools were bad. She knew she could never face the good people of Wynott again. Already resigned herself to the fact that she'd lost her business, she just couldn't become the town project again.

No, this time was an entirely different situation. Now she could take care of herself and her baby without becoming the town charity case. It wouldn't be easy, but then she was already used to that, wasn't she? Hopefully her previous employees had been able to hook up with a new job, maybe even one with better benefits than she had been able to offer.

This time she would stand on her own two feet. They were the only feet one could really rely on anyway. You never knew who you could trust, so it was better to only trust yourself. She had learned the hard way, thinking about the betrayal by Pete, Captain Perkins and the rest of the Wynott P.D. It struck her like a blow to the gut as tears filled her eyes. Just then Alonso/Dillon walked into her room.

"What's wrong?" His look of concern almost made her laugh out loud. What a fucking fake.

"Oh, this damn movie does it to me every time. You'd think I'd stop the crying because I know what's coming, but no, I do it every time. Do you think it could just be my hormones? Even if it's not, that's my story and I'm sticking to it." She pretended to chuckle as she wiped her eyes with a tissue.

"I just came to see if you're hungry for dinner yet."

"Not really. I thought I'd take a nap. I have a bit of a headache. Maybe a nap will take care of it. You pretty much know what I like by now, so if you order something just order mine too, I'll eat it when I wake up." She hoped the nap and headache story would lead him to believe that some of her memory might be coming back, even though it wasn't she didn't need him knowing that.

"Okie dokie."

Marla had lain on her bed, eyes closed and thinking while she pretended to sleep. She wondered if Pete had even gotten the first phone message yet. Even if he did he probably would just ignore it, thinking it was some kind of prank or something. It had never once occurred to her that Captain Perkins hadn't been working with her best interests at heart. All the other times she had come to check on her she had been nothing but professional. Now she wondered who Dr. Stravinsky really was. Was she even a doctor? She had decided to stop taking the anti-depressant the minute those thoughts had struck her, just sticking to the pre-natal vitamins. The only reason she would continue with those was because they were samples that Dr. Stravinsky had taken out of the cupboard right in front of her, and they were clearly labeled and sealed. If her stomach hadn't started to stick out she might even doubt that she was really pregnant. Being stuck with no contact to the outside world she was more than a little concerned that she hadn't felt the baby move yet. But right now there was nothing she could do about that so she set those fears aside. If she didn't make it out of this situation it wouldn't be an issue anyway. Before all the drama had started she had intended to ask Dr. Stravinsky about it. What she really needed was a visit with a good ob/gyn and decided to put that on the top of her list of things to do once she was free. If that day ever came.
CHAPTER 12

Pete drove like a mad man, swerving in and out of traffic and sometimes driving on the shoulder of the road if he thought the traffic would delay him. He had his phone in his hands-free device, glancing at it often and hoping it would ring soon. He was fast approaching an area where he'd have to make a decision about which direction to go in. If it came to that he'd have to call the Chief's secretary and light a fire under her ass. All during his trip he vacillated between being sure everything was all right to deep despair, like a pendulum in a clock. What would he do if Marla were hurt? He couldn't live without her, not ever again, so she'd just have to be all right.

His thoughts about Dr. Stravinsky and her affiliations were muddled. Had she lied about Marla being pregnant? After several minutes of thinking about the possibilities he decided that as long as Marla was alive they could deal with anything else together. Of course that was assuming she had forgiven him, yet another little bump in the road of life. He hoped it was little and not a Mt. Everest. When his phone rang he jumped, startled. He crossed his fingers as he answered his phone.

"Hello Officer Jensen, this is Chief Parker. We've found a probable location in Suttonville. The Marriott can be seen from the expressway, I69 I believe. How close are you to Suttonville now?"

"About twenty five miles from there now, sir. Have you been able to make arrangements for backup with their P.D.?"

"Yes. They're waiting for you across the , at the IHOP. They have a visual on the room and, to the best of their knowledge, everything is quiet right now. You can meet with them and tell them your plan. I'll be waiting to hear back from you when this is all over. Any questions, or do you need anything else?" Chief Parker asked helpfully, no longer sounding angry about having his trip interrupted.

Pete had to force himself to drive the speed limit as he turned into the IHOP parking lot. When he walked into the restaurant he had no trouble picking out which table his backup was seated at. They may as well have had a neon sign with an arrow for all they blended in with their dark suits, ties and sunglasses. He walked directly to the table and introduced himself.

One of the officers produced a map of the hotel with the room prominently marked. He explained that he wanted the element of surprise on their side. According to their information there were only two occupants in the room. Pete made a point of telling them that the man had already murdered his Captain and that there was a witness. He didn't feel the need to tell them the Captain was a traitor and a scumbag, although he thought it. Pete insisted on being the first to enter the room, explaining that he knew all the parties involved by sight.

Once everyone was in position outside the hotel room Pete gave the nod as two of the other officers busted down the door. Dillon had been lying on the couch, probably sleeping, and didn't move when the other officers yelled, "Police! Freeze!" Pete ran to the bedroom on the left, gun pointing directly ahead in a two handed grip. He scanned the bedroom quickly, noticing the bathroom door was closed. Gently he knocked on the door.

"Marla. It's Pete. You can come out now. We've got Dillon in custody." Just as Pete got the words out he heard a shot in the living room. He ran to the door and saw Dillon, dead on the floor, his gun by his side as the other officer's gun's smoked slightly.

"What the hell happened?"

"He pulled a gun on us and threatened to shoot. I just reacted and shot him." The officer explained, seemingly unshaken and very sure of the decision he'd made.

"Good job." He gave the only response he could think of before turning back to Marla.

"Marla, Dillon's dead. He tried to shoot his way out but it didn't go the way he thought it would. Please come out and let me see that you're all right. If you don't I'll have to bash in the door." He held his breath and waited a few seconds until he heard her unlock and then open the door cautiously. She was too scared to come out further than a foot at first. He wanted to grab her and hug her, but when he saw the fear and mistrust written all over her face he just stood there. Smiling broadly when he realized she was indeed pregnant. Having not seen her in over a month he noticed the difference in her body immediately. A stranger would never realize she was pregnant, but he knew.

"Are you all right? Should I call a doctor?" He asked gently, finally unable to resist touching her, he ran his hand down her cheek.

"I think I'm fine. So Dillon is really dead?"

"Yes. It's all over, I promise." Pete reassured her. "I'll send in one of the other officers to get your statement. Why don't you have a seat on the bed, it could be a few minutes until someone can get to you. Can I get you anything?" He held her hand briefly before she pulled it away.

"Did Captain Perkins ever give you a letter from me?"

"No, but I heard them laughing about it. She said she burned it and let the ashes fly out the window while she drove here."

"Then we need to talk when all of this is over. One thing you do need to know though is that I was really, really happy about the news of the baby. Dr. Stravinsky told me during our meeting with Captain Perkins."

Marla just nodded her head briefly before another officer came through the door and told Pete he was needed in the other room.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as he walked into the living room. She heard him tell someone that it was all over and that Dillon was dead. Marla sat on the bed trying to wrap her mind around the recent events, realizing she was free, finally.

The bad news was she had no idea where she was and didn't have a dollar to her name until the banks opened in the morning. She got her suitcase out of the closet and began to pack her meager belongings. She wasn't sure why she bothered to pack her clothes, they didn't fit anymore, but they were hers and she didn't know what else to do with them. Once the baby was born she'd be able to fit back into them, but did she really want to lug them around with her for the next five months? No. All she really needed were her grooming supplies for now. She needed to find some maternity clothes and an ob/gyn before she left the town. She would make a point of asking one of the police officer's if there was a homeless shelter in the area. Not having a debit card she would have to wait until tomorrow to get access to her savings account.

Marla grabbed her grooming supplies and put them into her suitcase, anxious to leave as soon as she was done giving her statement. Sitting down on the bed Marla waited, at first patiently, then angrily, for someone to come and take her damn statement. After two hours of waiting, Marla grabbed her suitcase and walked out of the room, avoiding the sight of the dead Dillon as she slipped silently out the door.

She needed to find someplace to stay before dark and they could shove their statement. What could she say that they didn't already know? The murderer was dead anyway, so what was the point in rehashing everything? She asked about the shelter at the hotel desk and was told it was on the other side of town, approximately three miles away. Piece of cake, Marla thought, as she began to walk towards the shelter. Luckily she had been walking on the treadmill so she had no doubt that eventually she could make it there on foot. Once she got settled at the shelter she'd ask about finding a doctor.

Marla walked slowly, stopping to rest when she felt tired, as she made her way to the shelter. While she was waiting to cross the street Pete pulled up quickly in front of her and was out of the car and in her face within seconds of stopping.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Didn't I ask you to wait and give a statement? What in the world are you thinking, walking all this way by yourself?" Pete was furious as he yelled at Marla in the middle of the street.

"I'm walking to the shelter I plan on staying in tonight. And no you didn't ask me to give a statement, you ordered me to. I'm done doing what other people think I need to do. That hasn't worked out very well for me in the past. From now on I'll make my own decisions and do what I think is best. By the way, I did wait for two hours but no one ever came to take the damn statement. I don't know what you want me to say anyway. Alonso/Dillon or whatever the hell his name is is dead and he was the murderer, end of statement." She started to walk around Pete's car which was blocking her way, when Pete grabbed her arm to stop her.

"What about us? We need to talk about us and about the baby, or did you forget that little fact."

"Again, not much to say there, either. I wanted you to be aware that there was a baby and you are. There's nothing more to say and talking about it won't make it any different or go away so what's the point?"

"Well, I have a lot to say! Here, I reprinted the letter I wrote to you. Please, have a seat in the car and read it. I promise I'll be quiet until you're done. Please Marla, I'm begging you." Marla thought for a minute and then nodded her agreement as Pete rushed around the car and opened the passenger door for her. He helped her into the car and then pulled into a nearby parking space while she read the letter.

With tears streaming down her face, blurring her vision, she read the letter. He didn't say anything as he handed her a wad of tissues. She smiled when she got to the part about Curly, but she still didn't say anything.

"Well, what do you think?"

"I don't know, I have to think about it." She rubbed her forehead, realizing that now she really did have a headache. "I think it's pretty convenient that you wrote the letter only after you found out about the baby. Do you know yet who Dr. Stravinsky worked for?" She needed to stall for some thinking time more than anything else.

"No, but we will eventually find out."

"What do you expect from the letter, Pete? A lot has happened and a lot of time has gone by. I'm not the same person anymore."

"I guess I want forgiveness. I want you to understand that I know what I did was wrong on so many levels."

"All right Pete, I can forgive you. Consider yourself absolved of all sin." She opened the car door and began to get out.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"I need to get to the shelter before dark."

"There's no way I'm letting you stay in a shelter tonight. Come with me and we'll get a room at a different motel for tonight."

"First of all, Pete, I don't need your permission to stay at the shelter. I'm a big girl now and can and will make my own decisions. Until I can access my money I have no other alternatives besides sleeping in a doorway somewhere. I also need to eat something and the shelter will provide that too. One stop shopping. I plan on seeing a reputable ob/gyn as soon as I can get an appointment, just to make sure everything's all right. Right now those are my priorities. Pretty basic stuff, really. I need to get on with my life."

"Please, Marla, don't cut me out of your life. Please let me help you attain those goals. I know my words sounded like orders, I promise to work on that, but for now allow me to help you. Let's go get something to eat, I think all three of us will feel better once we've eaten. What do you say? Please?" He rubbed his hand up and down her arm gently as he spoke. This wasn't going at all the way he'd expected or hoped. He had hoped she'd jump into his arms and smother him with kisses once she'd read the letter. Now he knew that was just some dumb fantasy. He thought he understood how deeply he'd hurt her, but he hadn't even scratched the surface. This was going to be a lot harder than he'd thought. Marla was right, she's not the same person she was. She had lost that glint of happiness in her eyes. She hadn't smiled once since he saw her, not even once she was rescued. Before all of this she had been open and friendly to everyone. Now she was closed and quiet, guarded in both words and actions. He found himself wishing he could change her back to her old self. Realistically he could probably only hope for a compromise between the two Marla's he knew.

Thinking back on things, he couldn't help but remember how he'd been when he'd come to Wynott. Marla was the one who transformed him from a selfish loner to a happy, friendly person. People actually liked him now that he wasn't putting out negative vibes all the time. How had she transformed him? Pete decided that he needed to talk to Betsy back in Wynott, she knew Marla better than anyone and he needed all the help he could get.

"All right Pete, I'll let you help but I insist on paying you back or I'm not going anywhere with you."

"It's a deal. What do you feel like eating?"

"Steak, medium rare. Baked potato and salad with strawberry ice cream for dessert."

"Sounds perfect." He turned the car around and headed back into the business district of Suttonville.

They found a steakhouse with a crowded parking lot, even a few trucks, a sure sign of a good place to eat. To their surprise they didn't have to wait long for a table. He informed the hostess they were ready to order whenever the waitress got a chance to take it.

The waitress was in her mid-fifties, well groomed and dressed, so Pete felt comfortable asking her if she could recommend a good ob/gyn in town.

"Everyone I know goes to Dr. Jarrod Kane. He has a really good reputation and specializes in high risk pregnancies. My own daughter-in-law had lost three babies until she started going to Dr. Kane, now we just had a new grandson delivered last week. Both mother and baby are healthy as horses and my daughter-in-law swears it's because of the care Dr. Kane gave her. I met him myself for a few minutes, nice guy. I'd recommend him and I know quite a few other people as well who would do the same." Angie, according to her nametag, answered.

"One more question. What's your grandson's name?" Pete asked with a smile.

"Quint, but I don't hold it against him. That is the most God awful name, but my boy is stuck on it." Angie shook her head and laughed as she turned and walked away.

"Well, that was a pretty glowing endorsement, how would you feel about making an appointment with him," Pete asked.

"He sounds like a miracle worker. I might have trouble getting an appointment."

"Let's see right now." Pete popped up and asked Angie for a phone book or if she knew Dr. Kane's phone number. Lucky for him, Angie looked up the number on her cell phone and watched Pete program it into his phone. He came back to the table and started dialing. Marla listened while he made an appointment, after quite a bit of maneuvering, for tomorrow at four o'clock in the afternoon. She had to admit that she was very impressed at how Pete was able to accomplish an appointment for the next day. Just from the part she had heard, the doctor was booked solid tomorrow, but Pete wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Well, that went better than I expected. We have an appointment tomorrow afternoon at four o'clock, will that work for you?"

"That will be fine, but what do you mean, we? Don't you have to get back to Wynott tomorrow?"

"No, we can go back after the doctor's appointment tomorrow. I know I have a few days off coming to me. I'll just use a couple. Do you mind if I go in with you to see the doctor? I have a few questions of my own." He carefully worded the request, not wanting it to sound like a demand.

"I have nothing to hide, but you know they can't do a DNA test until after the baby's born. I already checked with Dr. Stravinsky on that, I figured you'd want one."

"Why would I want a DNA test? I trust you, Marla. If you say the baby is mine then it's mine. I've never questioned it." He was stunned that Marla would assume he'd question the baby's parentage.

"You shouldn't be so trusting Pete, it'll come back and bite you in the ass and you won't even see it coming. Anyway, like I said, you're welcome to come along."

"Are you trying to tell me you lied and I'm not the father?"

"No, I know absolutely that you're the father. You're the only man I've ever been with." Or will ever be with again. But Marla didn't dare share that last tidbit with him. It really wasn't any of his business anyway.

The conversation ended when Angie brought the rest of their dinner and they ate in silence. When Marla finished her ice cream she sat back in her chair and rubbed her belly. "I'm stuffed. I haven't eaten this much at one time since - never. I've never eaten this much in one sitting before. It was delicious, thank you Pete. I'll pay you back first thing tomorrow."

"I think I can afford a steak dinner for the mother of my baby. Don't worry about it, Marla."

"That's not the point. We had a deal and I'm sticking to it. If you can't, let me know now and I'll start walking back to the shelter." She wasn't kidding, and Pete knew it.

"I'll stick to it, I just forgot for a minute. Could you cut me a little slack? I've had a busy day today."

"Ready to find a room?" Pete asked as Angie laid down their bill.

"If you folks are looking for a room for a night there's a little B&B straight down this street, it's real nice and the lady that owns it is a good cook to boot. Can't do any better than Bertie's B&B, that's for sure. Big sign's out front, you can't miss it. Tell her Angie sent you and she'll take good care of you."

"Thanks again Angie, you're a lifesaver." He picked up the check and left an extra generous tip for Angie.

Marla asked Pete to buy a newspaper on their way out of the restaurant. She needed to find a job with health insurance benefits before her own insurance ran out. She turned immediately to the Help Wanted ads and began to scan them with a pen she found on the seat of his car.

"What are you looking for in the classified ads, Marla?"

"A job. I need to find something with health insurance and a decent wage." Being engrossed in her task she hadn't realized they were already parked in front of the B&B or that Pete was staring at her like she had snakes coming out of her head.

"Why?" He asked simply. "Don't you have health insurance through the bakery?"

"I did when there was a bakery. I'm sure by now everyone has gotten other jobs and I need to do the same thing."

"Maybe you could start the bakery back up again. Everyone loved that place. You could have it up and running again in no time."

"No, it wouldn't be fair to everyone's current employers, plus I don't think I can work as many hours as I used to before the pregnancy. Once the baby comes I'm sure I can't. Besides, I wasn't planning on going back to Wynott to live." Marla dropped that bombshell and Pete was the one who nearly exploded.

"What? Why not?" Suddenly he felt all his hopes and dreams shatter into a million pieces.

"I don't want to be the town project anymore. I need to live someplace where no one knows me and start over again. I don't really have very good memories anymore of my time in Wynott."

"So where are you going to live?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll know it when I see it."

"What about the baby? Dr. Stravinsky told me you were planning on keeping him or her. Did you change your mind?"

"No, I'm still planning on keeping him or her. Why would you think I wouldn't?"

"Because you're not taking into account that I won't be able to see the baby, or be a father to the baby, if you move away." Now he was angry, making no effort to conceal it.

"I didn't know you wanted to be involved. I'll try and keep that in mind when I decide where to live." Marla conceded. "Could we go in now, I need to lie down for a while. My stomach is a little upset."

"All right, but I'm not done with this conversation yet. We'll get back to it later. Are you still having some morning sickness? Dr. Stravinsky mentioned you were but that was a while ago."

"Every once in a while. It's certainly better than it was, that was awful."

"I wish I could have been there with you and helped you through it. I've been looking forward to being included in the pregnancy," He confessed. "It never occurred to me that you wouldn't want me to be involved. I mean, I knew you were mad and hurt and upset with me, but it never occurred to me that you'd deny me access to you and the baby." "Pete, I don't think staying here is really a good idea for me. I think I'll be better off at the shelter for now. I'm afraid your expectations are different than mine." "No. I'll make sure you have a separate room, if possible. I won't bother you, I promise. I'm pretty tired myself. Let's just both get a good night's sleep. We'll talk tomorrow." "All right. I'm exhausted."
CHAPTER 13

When Pete woke up he laid in bed, thinking about Marla and the baby. How was he going to convince her to come back to Wynott with him, let alone spend the rest of her life with him. He didn't have a clue.

He got out of bed, showered and dressed in the same clothes he'd worn yesterday. Thankfully the B&B had given him a basic grooming kit. He headed down the steps and followed his nose to the smells of breakfast, nodding hello to another guest already seated at the table and enjoying a variety of baked good. When Bertie walked in and took a seat at the table she hopped up almost immediately, as if she'd sat on something sharp.

"I almost forgot, Ms. Winters gave this to me and asked if I'd give it to you when I saw you." Bertie said as she handed him a sealed envelope. His fingers trembled a little as he opened it, thinking it was a goodbye letter.

"When did she have a chance to give this to you? It's only nine thirty. I didn't realize she was up yet."

"Yep. She was up and out of here bright and early this morning." Bertie confirmed.

"She didn't check out did she?"

"No. In fact she paid for the rest of the week. Nice girl. Said she'd be back later today. Guess she had some things to do around town. I gave her directions to a few different places she asked about." Bertie headed to the ringing phone before he could ask which places she'd inquired about.

He opened the envelope and there was cash in it, way too much in his opinion. Disappointed now, Pete decided to explore the town on his own. He had hoped he could do that with Marla but apparently she had other ideas. At least he knew he'd see her at the doctor's office later today. He knew she was too concerned about the baby to skip that appointment.

Suttonville looked to be a very nice town. Clean sidewalks and nicely tended flower boxes bloomed brightly all along the main street of town with colorful arrangements. The buildings were very old but extremely well taken care of. Pete liked the historic feel of the area. Instead of industrial looking street lights the town had antique looking lanterns hanging from matching posts, very Victorian era. If Angie from the steak house and Bertie from the B&B were any indication, the people of Suttonville were very nice too. Everyone seemed friendly and helpful, even people that didn't work at the local businesses were helpful. At one point Pete was trying to get his bearings and it must have shown on his face because a lovely little old lady, probably in her late eighties, offered to help him find his way.

Marla had started her day early, grateful for the good night's sleep she'd gotten. She was waiting at the bank when it opened to get her hands on some of her own money. She didn't want to feel obliged to anyone, all right Pete, any money. She'd walked back to the B&B and given Bertie an envelope with Pete's money and paid for the rest of the week's room and board. She liked Bertie and the B&B was nice and clean.

Marla had gotten herself a cell phone and activated it so she could set-up some job interviews. Since she had some interviews scheduled for tomorrow, she would have to buy herself some maternity clothes. Plus she had to keep the doctor's appointment scheduled for later today. She was actually looking forward to that. Most of the jobs she had interviews scheduled for were physically labor intensive and she wanted to make sure everything was good with the baby before taking on that kind of job. One of the problems with not knowing anything about your past was that she could have a Ph.D. or not even have graduated from high school, which forced her to apply for low paying jobs. Back in Wynott she had worked at the supermarket as a cashier and cleaned private homes for income before she'd opened the bakery. Marla had actually enjoyed cleaning the homes, she found it relaxing and she liked walking through the just cleaned home one last time before leaving with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. One of the jobs she was going to interview for was as a housekeeper for one of the smaller hotels in downtown Suttonville. At least for that one she could supply some references.

Marla took in the sights and sounds of the downtown area and liked what she saw. It looked like just the type of town she was looking for, no one pried into things that weren't their business. They didn't give you advice you hadn't asked for and they didn't tell you what to do or how to do it. They minded their own business. Here she remained anonymous, something she hadn't had for the last three years. She realized she was probably being harder on the citizens of Wynott than she should, but after being under a microscope for three years she could finally take a deep breath without it ending up in the local paper. By one o'clock Marla was tired and sick of carrying her bags of clothes. She headed back to the B&B intending to take a nap, showering and getting ready for the doctor's appointment. When she walked in and saw Pete pacing in the sitting room she had a feeling he had other plans.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been worried sick about you." He was mad but refrained from actually yelling at her.

"Bertie knew I was all right, didn't she tell you I had errands to run?"

"All she did was give me the goddamn envelope with the money I didn't want you to give me. Maybe you could have left me a note or something?"

"I didn't mean to worry you. In fact, it never occurred to me that you'd be upset. It wasn't intentional, it's just that I needed to get some clothes and a phone and set-up some job interviews so I've been busy, not that I owe you an explanation."

"You're right, you don't owe me any explanations but you are carrying my baby and I need to know you're all right and not laying in some alley hurt or in trouble. I'm a cop Marla, that's where my thoughts automatically go, and I won't apologize for that."

"Well now you know we're both fine. I'm going to take a nap before the appointment, if that's okay with you, of course." She shot sarcastically over her shoulder as she went up the steps to her room.

"Marla, when can we talk?"

How about never? "How about after the doctor's appointment? We can go out to dinner and talk everything out then."

"I'm holding you to that then. Meet me down here at three thirty, the receptionist asked that you come early to do the paperwork."

"Great, see you then." She walked into her room and closed the door quickly, trying to avoid any further conversation. No sooner had Marla closed the door when she opened it again quickly and ran down to Pete.

"I think the baby just moved! Feel, right here! You feel that? Isn't it awesome?" She had tears of happiness in her eyes as she held Pete's hand to her trembling stomach.

"Wow! That's so cool. Is this the first time?"

"Yes. I was so afraid something was wrong. The book said I should have felt it sooner, assuming that Dr. Stravinsky's calculations were right." Now Marla was crying and sobbing with joy and relief. He took her into his arms, still holding his hand to her swollen belly, and kissed the top of her head.

"This is so great, honey. That's our baby in there." Unable to speak she just shook her head and let the tears fall.

"Let's go back up to your room so we can lay on the bed and feel the baby move." She took Pete's hand and led the way, feeling closer to him than she had in a very long time.

Once Marla was settled into Pete's arms on the bed, they both lay there and waited for the next burst of movement. She decided now was a good time to try and explain why she didn't want to go back to Wynott.

"Pete, I want you to understand that my not going back to Wynott isn't meant to be a punishment to you, it's just something I need to do for myself. Ever since I was found at the side of the road it seems like everyone in town has had a say in my life. They had a place for me to live arranged, a job was waiting for me at the market. Even my clothes were already in my dresser when I got there. The town was wonderful to me and took care of me when I needed them most, but now I need to make sure I can do it on my own, without the town picking me up and dusting me off if I fall. I don't want to go back there just so they can take care of me and the baby now, too. Indirectly, it already started even while I was held in the hotel room. You never felt the need to tell me you loved me until you heard about the baby and I can't help but feel that you only did it because of the baby. It may not be true, but none the less I can't shake that feeling no matter how much I want to. Please try and put yourself in my shoes for a while and you'll see what I mean."

He didn't say anything, how could he when he understood completely what she meant. It broke his heart to see her struggling like this when they should both be sharing a life together and waiting for the baby to come.

"Honey, unfortunately, I understand completely, but that doesn't mean I like it. I felt sort of the same way when I came to Wynott. I came to escape because I couldn't stand seeing my ex-wife and my partner so happy. Did I tell you they were expecting a baby when I left? My heart was broken and so was I. It was only once I met you that I began to heal. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and the baby, possibly six or seven more kiddies for a little more company, so I'll wait for a while and let you do what you have to do. But don't ask me to like it. I need you to promise me that when you're ready to come home you'll come home to me, preferably before the baby's born. I want to be there for the delivery at least. Please promise me you won't make me miss that."

"I promise I'll do the best I can to make sure you're there for the delivery, but you do understand that I won't have any control over that, right?"

"When we have a due date, just plan on me being parked on your doorstep."

"Oh, and one other point I need to make is that I can't marry you even if I wanted to, I don't have a birth certificate or even a place of birth, and you need one for a marriage license. We'll be forced to live in sin, could you handle having six or seven illegitimate children? I'm not sure I can, but that's really not an issue right now." She waved her hand in the air to dismiss the thought. She felt the rumble of his chest as he laughed. When he turned to look at her she kissed him unexpectedly, and it certainly wasn't how one would kiss a good friend or brother. It was hot and steamy and passionate. She let the love she felt pour out of her and into the kiss. By the time the kiss ended she was laying completely on top of him, chest to chest and thigh to thigh. When she felt his erection grow she itched to touch him, to be with him, but she knew that would be a mistake right now. She slowly rolled off Pete's body and settled her head back on his shoulder.

"I love you Pete, don't ever think I don't."

"I know baby, I love you too. Don't ever think I don't." As they laid there in silence, just enjoying each other's comforting embrace, she drifted off into a contented sleep, finally feeling safe and secure.

They walked into the doctor's office and did the endless paperwork. Pete was so nervous he was pacing in the waiting room until the nurse called them into the examination room. Pete watched Marla as she took off her clothes and put on the gown the nurse provided. He was amazed at how beautiful her body had become with her pregnancy, not that there had been anything wrong with it before. Now she was more rounded, more curvy, more... everything. He plunged his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out and touching her, aching to go over her inch by precious inch.

Dr. Kane was just as Angie had described him, caring and compassionate, gentle and reassuring. After he finished her physical examination he suggested that he do an ultrasound to get a better idea of how far along Marla was and they both agreed eagerly. The nurse wheeled in the ultrasound machine and Dr. Kane put the warm, gooey gel on her little bump. Immediately the room filled with the sounds of a heartbeat. She looked up at Pete who was now standing next to her head and holding her hand.

"Is that my heartbeat?"

"No, that's the baby's." Dr. Kane answered as he moved the wand over her belly.

"It sounds awfully fast, is that normal," Pete asked worriedly.

"It's perfectly normal, babies run a little faster than adults do. Everything sounds good. Now let's see what we can figure out here."

Pete and Marla's eyes were glued to the monitor as Dr. Kane pointed out the baby and its various body parts. Marla was amazed that she could actually see the baby's heart beating. Relief washed over her as the doctor explained that everything looked very good, perfectly normal, and he would estimate she was about four months along.

"Can you tell the sex of the baby," Marla asked.

"Let me try, the baby seems to be a little shy." Dr. Kane pressed a little harder with the wand and moved it around a little, trying to zero in on the area.

"Yep, here it is. Do you want to know?"

Marla and Pete looked at each other and at the same time they both answered.

"Yes!"

"Looks like you have a little girl here mom and dad. Is that what you were hoping for?"

"I just wanted healthy, the sex doesn't matter." Marla answered while she looked to Pete for confirmation.

"I wanted a little girl and I hope she looks just like her mother," He answered honestly. Whenever he had allowed himself to fantasize about the baby he had always pictured a little girl. He was thrilled with the prospect of having a little girl all his own.

It seemed to take forever to check out at the doctor's office, they were provided with booklets, brochures, free samples, nutrition guides and anything else they could cram into the tote bag they gave freely to all expecting couples. She made her next appointment and they were out the door.

"Pete, when are you planning on going back to Wynott?"

"I was planning on leaving after dinner tonight. Are you hungry? We could go to the steak house for dinner."

"Yum. That sounds good. I'm starving and I wouldn't mind seeing Angie and thanking her for sending us to Dr. Kane." She had no intention of mentioning that she had a job interview scheduled at the steak house tomorrow. She knew he would not like the idea of her lifting heavy trays of food, but that was her business and not his.

Marla and Pete had a very nice dinner together and luckily Angie was working tonight. Both of them thanked her profusely for the referral.

Marla was stunned stupid when Angie added, "I hear you have a job interview here tomorrow. I'll put in a good word for you if you like."

"That would be great if you wouldn't mind. I've never worked in a restaurant before so I'm a little nervous."

"Nothing to it. Easiest job in the world once you figure out how things are run. The folks that own this place are decent to work for, too. I've been here for over ten years myself."

"Cool. Wish me luck then." Marla waved goodbye before walking out the door. She could see by the look on Pete's face that he wasn't particularly pleased about her job choices, but to his credit he kept his mouth shut about it.

Pete already had his things packed and in his car when he dropped Marla off at Bertie's B&B.

"Marla, I find myself stalling to get on the road, I don't want to leave you. What if something happens to you or the baby? I'll be too far away to help."

"Pete, the doctor said everything looks fine and isn't that kind of the whole point of me being on my own, or do you think I can't take care of myself?" She had a challenging look in her eyes, like she dared him to say anything negative because then she'd rip his head off.

"That's not it at all. I know you can take care of yourself. I just don't want to leave you here, so far away. It's a purely selfish thing. I'll miss you. Am I at least allowed to call you?"

"Absolutely. I have no problem with that and I'll call you, too." Marla promised.

"Am I allowed a kiss goodbye?"

"Yep. Just try and get away without one."

She leaned over and kissed him, intending to pull away quickly, but Pete had other plans as he cupped the back of her head in his hand and dove deeper into her mouth with his tongue. They savored the taste of each other as their lips and tongues did a sweet dance together, slow and softly. When they finally separated after what seemed like hours, Marla followed up with a few brief kisses in quick succession.

"Drive carefully and I'll talk to you later."

Just like that she was out of the car and heading up the walkway, turning to wave once before she disappeared through the door.

Pete knew that this was probably the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, leave his woman and baby behind when every cell in his body screamed at him to stay. But this wasn't about him, it was about Marla and he had to keep reminding himself of that for the whole three hours it took to drive back to Wynott. It turned out to be a very long, lonely drive.
CHAPTER 14

Marla had been fortunate enough to have three job offers within a week, although none of them were dream careers. Two manufacturing companies refused to hire her because she was pregnant and they didn't want any lawsuits to come back and bite them in the ass. When all was said and done Marla decided to take a housekeeping position at a small, two story hotel that was within walking distance of the B&B. It would provide Marla with health insurance and enough money to barely squeak by. She was thankful that she liked ramen noodles and macaroni and cheese because she expected to be eating a lot of that in the future. One of the other things she liked about the job was that it required a uniform so she wouldn't have to invest in a lot of maternity career clothing that she wouldn't be able to use after the baby was born. Now that Marla knew what her income was going to be, she decided to look for more permanent housing. Although she loved living at the B&B it was way beyond her new budget, so she asked Bertie for some recommendations.

At the first furnished apartment she looked at she heard frantic skittering on the kitchen floor as the door opened. The type of skittering of the four pawed, long, hairless tail type. She let out a small scream while she watched more than a few mice scurry back into the darkness of the cupboards in the kitchen. Mouse crap littered the kitchen floor and Marla raced back out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her with a shudder that went up and down her spine several times. Struggling to stay polite she returned the key, shuddering once again on her way to the next apartment.

The second place looked much better but the smell of cigarette smoke clung to everything inside, leaving a film on all the furniture. Brown streaks of nicotine slid down the walls, making her gag involuntarily. The landlord swore that the previous residents didn't smoke, but then he would be the last one to know because he smelled worse than the apartment. A combination of stale cigarette smoke and body odor plus his teeth were black and rotting out of his mouth. Definitely not a place fit for her or her baby.

The third and final place of the day was clean and furnished. Marla searched the cupboards for any signs of mouse crap and other crawling bugs, but everything looked clean. It was a smallish studio apartment with a hide-a-bed couch, table and chair in the living/bed room, a small galley kitchen and a bathroom with a sink, commode, and shower stall. It met her basic requirements, so she decided to take it. Another plus was that they would allow her month to month occupancy instead of getting locked into a six month lease. T

The Biltmore Arms Apartments, her new home, consisted of only ten units so security wasn't a very big issue to the landlord. The first thing she did after gathering her things from the B&B was buy a deadbolt for the front door. Pete would have a cow if he found out, one of the drawbacks of dating a cop. She arranged for someone from the hardware store to install in before nightfall.

Marla's first day of work exhausted her completely. She wasn't used to physical labor as much as she used to be and every muscle in her body ached by lunchtime. Lana, the girl that was training her, was at least seven years younger than Marla and had piercing all over her head and face. She wore black eye shadow and mascara that set off her fuchsia colored hair and made her already pale skin look positively ghostly white. It took Marla quite a while before she could even understand what Lana was saying, probably because of the multiple tongue piercing she had. Lana had begun to lose her patience with her because she was constantly asking her to repeat her instructions. Huffing out her breath and tapping her foot for a moment before repeating what she'd said. When she did repeat it she spoke as if she were speaking to a mentally challenged person, slowly and loudly and right in her face. Little snot. Did she ever wonder if she would get any type of metal poisoning from all those piercings? She could have looked past all that if the girl had a decent personality. Unfortunately, Marla couldn't see herself forming any lasting friendships working at this place. Not that she was looking for any, but it did make the day more pleasant if you could at least talk to your co-workers once in a while. Before she left for the day she asked Lana how many days of training she'd have. Gratefully, only one day of training would be provided. Apparently they didn't believe in employee retention.

After Marla took her shower and ate her dinner she decided to give Pete a call. No answer. She was too tired and wanted to get some sleep so she opted not to leave a message. She would call him again tomorrow, maybe on her lunch break, and fill him in on all the news. Too tired to even open up the couch into a bed, she fell asleep on the couch with her new pillow and blanket surrounding her. The ringing of her phone woke her slowly.

"Hello," Marla mumbled sleepily into the phone.

"Hey, how are my two favorite girls doing?" Pete's baritone voice made her heart leap even through the fog of sleep. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine, yeah, I was just sleeping a little bit. What time is it?"

"It's only seven thirty. Are you sure everything's all right? That's pretty early to be in bed for the night, even for you."

"I started my new job today so I'm a little more tired than usual, I guess."

"Great! Tell me all about it." So Marla did just that.

She told Pete everything that had happened in her life since she last seen him the previous week. He laughed hysterically when she described the apartments she'd looked at. He sympathized with her about having to understand what Lana was saying, wishing her luck in that department.

"Tell me what's new with you, Pete."

"Well, I actually do have a little news to share with you. I've applied for the Captain's position at the department. It's a helluva way to get it, after someone's murdered like Captain Perkins was, but regardless, it still has to be filled. As far as I know I have the most experience in the squad room right now, so that's in my favor. They could always go outside to hire someone so I don't want to get my hopes up too much about it. After all we went through to get you out of your situation at least the Chief knows who I am. On the other hand, I was the one to interrupt his vacation," Pete reasoned.

"You'll get it, I know you will. You're a good cop and I'm sure the Chief knows it. When will you know for sure?"

"Not for a few weeks. Things never move as fast as you want them to in situations like this. Oh, Larry, Curly, and Moe all wanted me to say hello, listen to this." Pete held the phone out and howled like a dog. All three dogs joined in with him and when he put the phone back to his ear Marla was giggling hysterically.

"Oh, that's the best sound in the world. So you men are getting along well together I take it."

"Yeah, except Moe keeps leaving the toilet seat down. I wonder who could have taught him that," He joked. "After all, this is a swinging bachelor pad, you know?"

"No, I guess I never realized that before. New girl every night is it?"

"Not me, it's them, honest. Talk about being a dog, sheesh! I can barely get any sleep with all their shenanigans. They know I have to work in the morning, but do they care? Nope, not one bit."

"I'd kick their asses out if I were you. They're corrupting your morals." Her laughter sounded good to his lonely ears.

"Nah, I only have eyes for one woman and that's you and little what's-her-name. What is her name, anyway?"

"I have no idea, but I guess we should call her something other than 'it'. Do you have any suggestions?"

"No, I'll have to think about it some more. We need something cool though. Do you have any ideas?"

"No, I'm afraid I've been a little preoccupied this week. I'll think about it and let you know. We still have a lot of time."

"But I miss you now."

"Don't whine, Pete, it's not good for the daddy to whine. You're teaching our daughter bad behavior. And I miss you too," She conceded. "But I'm not quite there yet, I've only worked one day so far. I think I'll need a little more time than that."

"All right, but just a little. I guess I'll let you get back to sleep, you know how crabby you get when you're tired."

"Okay. Take care, Pete."

Marla wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she just couldn't bring herself to say the words. She also noticed that Pete hadn't said it either. Suddenly she felt like a million miles separated them, and it made her heart ache. Now she was just too wired-up to sleep, so she decided to read some of the literature the doctor had given her, hoping it would put her mind at ease and help her sleep. Wrong. She found the information fascinating and, as if the baby knew what she was doing, she began to kick furiously. Without thinking it through first she picked up the phone and quickly dialed Pete's number. She was stunned stupid when a woman answered his home phone.

"Hello. Hello." The female voice said sweetly into the phone.

"Umm, I think I might have the wrong number. I'm looking for Pete Jensen." Marla explained.

"No, you've got the right number. Pete's in the shower right now. Can I take a message?"

"No. It's not that important. I'll call back some other time. May I ask who this is?" She knew she shouldn't have asked, but she needed to know what the hell was going on.

"Oh, this is Jenny."

"Do I know you Jenny? This is Marla Winters."

"Umm, no, I don't think so. At least I'm not familiar with your name."

"I didn't think so. Anyway, it was good talking to you."

Marla lied. How could she have been so stupid? Everything he said about loving her before he left had been a lie. Hell, she had even missed him. What kind of fool was she? Answer: a big one. No more. She had cried enough over Pete to fill an ocean. She had her own life and a baby to think about and she refused to waste another second on Peter Jensen.
CHAPTER 15

Pete slammed down the phone in frustration. Where the hell was Marla and why wasn't she answering his calls? He called the local hospital to make sure she hadn't been admitted. Tried the doctor's office, but it was already closed for the day. Checked at her job but her shift was already over for the day. He'd been calling her for a week straight and hadn't spoken to her once. If he didn't know her better, he'd think she was playing games, except she wasn't that kind of person and he knew it. Suddenly he realized he didn't even know the address of where she was living. He racked his brain trying to remember if she had mentioned anything about them, but he kept coming up blank. If he didn't get to talk to her soon he'd have to drive to Suttonville and hunt her down.

Marla stretched her back to relieve the tension and muscle ache from a full day of cleaning hotel rooms. She checked her watch and noted that she had an hour until she started her next shift at the front desk. Marla had been lucky enough to get a second, part-time job working at the same hotel as the weekend night desk clerk. She worked her cleaning shift until four o'clock in the afternoon and then started her desk job at five o'clock on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights and worked until midnight. Mostly she just babysat the phones and occasionally checked-in a guest. It was easy work and she was able to put her feet up and read most of the time, plus it paid slightly better than her cleaning job. At first she hesitated to take the job, but after thinking about it she decided she had nothing better to do, so why not. It's not like she had any kind of social life and the extra money was being put aside in anticipation of taking time off when she had the baby. She wouldn't have enough time in to build any paid maternity leave before the baby came, so what she made now was all she was going to have before tapping into her savings account.

After a few days of Pete leaving messages on her phone, the tone getting more and more angry. Marla simply turned off her phone altogether. She only had it now for emergencies anyway, so she kept it charged and off. Eventually Pete would give up and move on with his life, just as she had. Apparently Pete had done that well before she had been released from her 'protective custody'. Either that or he had sped up his dating game quite a bit.

Marla didn't pay attention as Lana led someone down the hall, lisping instructions to them. People were always asking directions to some place or other. She emptied her mop bucket into the floor drain when she heard her name called. She turned to see Pete standing there, his body screaming with anger based on her knowledge of body language. God he looked good in his jeans and denim shirt. She had to stop herself from reaching out and touching him, forgetting all her resolve of the past two weeks.

"Pete. What are you doing here?" Stretching her back again as she straightened up.

"What did you expect me to do? You won't answer my calls. I was worried sick. What the hell do you think you're doing?" Pete was spitting out questions faster than she could answer him. His face grew redder and redder with each word, until the vein on his neck began to stick out and throb. She had never seen him this angry or out of control before, but she was determined to keep her temper under control. Waiting for him to finish his tirade she continued to restock her cart before coming out of the supply room and closing the door.

"I'm working now Pete so this isn't a really good time for me."

"I thought you got off at four o'clock. It's four thirty, so you're off the clock." He grabbed her elbow and led her down the hall like a petulant child being reprimanded.

"I start my next job in half an hour and I need to change clothes and get dinner down before I start," She explained. "I get off at midnight."

Pete just stopped and stared at Marla, trying to absorb what he'd just heard. He shook his head, not wanting to believe what he just heard.

"You're working two jobs?"

"For now, yes. I'm going to need the extra money once the baby's born."

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"Obviously you've moved on with your life and I'm doing the same."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Ask Jenny, she didn't seem to have a problem talking to me and explaining that you were in the shower when I called. She led me to believe that she knew you well enough to interrupt the shower if need be, but I didn't want to cramp your love life. You did what you had to do and now I'm doing what I have to do."

"What the hell was Jenny doing in my house? When was this?"

"I didn't write down the date and time so I'm not sure. It was the first day I started working here. Why?"

"Because Jenny is my next door neighbor's twenty year-old daughter and, as far as I know, she's never been in my house before."

"Listen, Pete, I'd love to stand here and chat but I really need to get going here. You did what you had to do and now I need to do what I have to do. Have a good trip home. Give my best to Jenny."

Marla had just gotten settled in at the massive reception desk, her feet propped up on a stool, and opened her book when the bell on the front door sounded. Figures, just when I get comfy. She looked up and rolled her eyes in frustration.

"What now, Pete?" Marla asked flatly, letting the irritation sound in her voice.

"I brought you dinner from the steak house. Angie says hello." He set the bag on the counter, keeping his eyes on her the whole time.

"Thank you, Pete. You didn't have to do that." She grabbed the bag and put it in the back office.

"Aren't you going to eat it?"

"I will on my break. They don't allow food at the front desk."

"Fuck them! You need to eat! They'll never know anyway."

"Security camera's are reviewed every day, so they'll know. Funny thing is, Pete, I like to eat every day and I can't if I don't have a job." Now she was being just down right bitchy and she couldn't care less. If he didn't like it he could leave, which she hoped he'd do anyway.

"What time did you say you got off work?"

"Midnight."

He didn't say anything as he turned toward the lobby doors, but instead of leaving he sat in one of the lobby chairs. He grabbed the newspaper sitting on the coffee table and began to read.

"Pete, what are you doing?"

"Reading the newspaper."

She didn't say anything, knowing now he was going to be a smart ass. She sat back down, put her feet up and opened her book. Two could play this game.

Reading her book, or rather pretending to read her book, until break time when she went into the back office and ate the meal he had brought her. She had been too distracted to realize just how hungry she was as she wolfed down the burger with gusto. When she was done eating she went back to the front desk and resumed reading her book. When she couldn't stand the suspense any more she finally spoke.

"So you're not going to talk to me all night?"

"I'll be glad to talk to you. In fact, I have a little bit of actual news for you."

"Really? About what?"

"I've finally been given access to your secured computer records, the ones I located while you were in custody."

"Pete, I was never 'in custody', I was kidnapped; we just didn't know it. They even have you using the wrong terminology."

"Point taken. Anyway, the good news is that I know you were born in the United States. The bad news is that's all the information I can get out of the FBI. Apparently you were born while your parents were in protective custody. I have no idea where you were born or if there's even a birth certificate. They won't tell me who your parents were or why they were in custody. I know that they keep loose tabs on you, but they won't even tell me if your parents are still alive or dead. They did admit that you don't have any brothers or sisters. Again, they won't supply your birth name either. I'm afraid even if you do get your memory back you won't be able to find any family. I'm sorry for that, Marla." Pete was now standing on the other side of the massive reception desk, taking her now trembling hands into his. He gently rubbed the inside of her wrists with his thumbs to console her, kissing each palm alternately.

"You know I've been thinking these last few weeks and I finally came to the realization that it doesn't matter if I ever get my memory back. What matters is how I live my life now. I need to stop living in limbo, as if getting my memory back will change anything that's happening now. At least now I know I won't be deported, that's good news," She conceded. "Thank you for finding out for me though. I thought you couldn't access those records."

"I couldn't back then, but as the new Captain I can."

"Oh! You got the promotion! How wonderful! Congratulations Pete! Now I know the department will get cleaned-up."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, duh, I was kidnapped by two of the Wynott P.D.'s employees, one being in a position of authority over the person, you, that was supposedly investigating my home invasions. Do you really think that instills a sense of trust and security in the townsfolk? I couldn't go back to Wynott and feel safe for me or the baby. Since I've been living in Summerville I haven't had one scary incident."

"I never realized you didn't feel safe going back to Wynott, but it certainly makes sense now that you mention it."

"Another point I need to make here, Pete, is that there's still at least one person out there involved in this thing. Dillon drugged me the night he killed Captain Perkins, but not before he called someone on his cell phone and made arrangements for removal of the body. I have no idea who he called, but the body was gone when I woke up and he was still there. Have the Summerville police found her body yet?"

"No, but they're still sifting through all the leads they have. Apparently a lot of people are calling in tips to the hotline."

"Have there been any more incidents back in Wynott? Has anyone broken into the house I lived in, or even the bakery?"

"Nothing. Maybe this person didn't know much about what was going on and was just a grunt for Dillon and Perkins. Did Dillon have to give him any instructions or directions on the phone?"

"No. I got the impression they knew where he was calling from. They could have called back after I was sleeping though, and I'd have no way of knowing. Has anyone looked at his cell phone for unfamiliar phone numbers?"

Pete decided it was best that he not tell her that the last call Dillon had made on his cell was to the Wynott police department. He had a sinking feeling that it was someone still in his department and he was going to have to do some sneaking around on his own again. At least now he had keys to all the desks in the squad room. As Pete stood deep in thought, a car pulled into the hotel parking lot, drawing both of their attention.

"Oh good, my company has arrived." He pointed to the car pulling into the nearest parking spot.

"You invited company to come here to the hotel?" Marla looked puzzled, watching while a beautiful, leggy blonde made her way out of the car. She was quite young, maybe eighteen or so, and a little clumsy in her spike heels. She looked up at Pete, giving him a shy wave. When Marla looked at the girls big, blue eyes she could tell that the girl had been crying by the red rims and puffiness.

"Marla, I'd like you to meet Jenny. Jenny this is my girlfriend, and mother of my child, Marla."

"Hi. Nice to meet you." She barely made eye contact with Marla before casting her glance back down to the floor.

"So, Pete. How nice of you to bring your new girlfriend to meet the old one." Tipping up her chin in defiance.

"Actually, Jenny has something she wants to say to you." He motioned Jenny closer to the registration desk.

Marla stood with her arms crossed over her chest and steadied herself for the blow that she knew was coming. Looking down she struggled to keep her tears at bay until she could be alone.

"I came to apologize and explain things. I feel just awful about what I did, really, I was just goofing around. I had no idea it would cause this many problems. I'm so sorry." Jenny blubbered between tears and sobs.

"Keep going Jenny, Marla doesn't know what you're talking about."

"I was outside in my backyard when I heard Pete's phone ringing. When he didn't answer it I ran in and grabbed it on a stupid whim. I didn't know he was involved with you, so when I heard a female voice I just ran with it, you know, as a joke. I heard the shower running and figured he was in there, but Pete had no idea I was even in the house. I guess it was you I was talking to on the phone. We finished our conversation before Pete ever knew I'd been in there. I was too embarrassed to admit what I did, so I just ran out of the house before he saw me. I didn't know until he called me earlier today that it had caused this much trouble. I'm sooooo sorry, Marla. I drove all the way here so I could explain in person. I hope you can forgive me. I promise I'll never do it again to anyone. It was stupid and thoughtless." Jenny wiped her eyes with her already damp tissues.

Stunned stupid, she plopped down on the chair behind the desk with a dazed look on her face. After a few moments she looked at Pete, watching while he tried to comfort Jenny in a fatherly way.

"Jenny I can't thank you enough for coming here and explaining everything to me. Now I understand why Pete looked at me like I was a crazed pregnant woman, which I probably was, when I told him what had happened. I absolutely believe you," She conceded.

"Pete, you do understand now why I came to the conclusions that I did."

"You came to the conclusions that Jenny wanted you to come to. She admitted as much to me on the phone, but I thought you needed to see her in person or you'd never believe me. Was I right, or what?"

"Yep, you hit that one on the head. Jenny, let me get you a room so you can get some sleep and relax. It's really late now and you're too upset to drive."

"Ummm, I don't think I have enough money on me to be able to afford that."

"Our treat, Jenny, really, you rescued us from what could have been a very long and drawn-out disagreement."

"Yeah. One that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been such a jerk."

"But you set it right and in the end that's all that matters. I won't take 'no' for an answer. Pete, will you show Jenny to her room?" Marla handed over the key card to Pete as he ushered Jenny out the door.

Marla sat at the desk and just stared into space. Thoughts pinging around in her head in a jumble of images. She never even heard Pete come back into the room and jumped, startled, at the sight of him. He came behind the desk and lifted Marla, pulling her tightly into his arms. When was their life ever going to get anywhere close to 'normal'? She closed her eyes, exhausted both physically and mentally. She glanced at the clock in hopes that it was close to quitting time. No such luck. She still had an hour and a half to go. Leaning into his strong chest she gladly wrapped her arms tightly around Pete's waist, never wanting to let go. Gazing up into his eyes, Pete put his lips to hers and without any hesitation, she responded. Opening both her heart and her lips, shedding any lingering fears, she embraced him mind, body and soul. Never wanting to leave the cocoon of pleasure she was not submerged in.

He devoured her, tasting her sweetness that he had waited too long to enjoy. When they heard someone on the other side of the desk clear their throat, they jumped apart like two guilty teenagers caught in the act.

"Excuse me. Marla, may I have a word with you?" The man that stood there was clearly angry, his large round face red and rutty. He wasn't very tall but he was very round all over.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Howard. Mr. Howard, I'd like you to meet Captain Peter Jensen of the Wynott Police Department. Pete, this is my boss, Mr. Howard." Mr. Howard nodded quickly and then made his way to the back office. Marla walked in behind him and quietly closed the door. Less than two minutes later she was back out the door, smiling up at him.

"We can go now, Mr. Howard is staying," Marla said happily. "Will you come and stay at my place tonight?"

"Sure. What did he want with you?"

"He fired me."

"What! You got fired? It was because of me, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but I'm actually happy about it. I hated both of those jobs. Would you mind terribly giving me a ride back to Wynott tomorrow?"

"You're coming home.......with me? Pinch me, I think I'm dreaming."

"All right, if you insist, but I had something much better in mind."
CHAPTER 16

Marla woke up slowly, savoring the feel of Pete's arms snugly around her, his manhood pressing eagerly against her bottom, fully aroused. She knew Pete was awake, he was fondling her breast and teasing her already hard nipple as he kissed his way along her bare shoulder. Her body hummed with desire, eagerly anticipating another round of passionate lovemaking.

"I want to wake up like this every day. What a great way to start the day."

She turned to face him, smiling broadly and kissing his chest and neck while caressing his finely muscled body with her hands, kissing every square inch of him.

Pete rubbed Marla's rounding tummy, laughing out loud when the baby kicked vigorously.

"How's my little peanut today? Is she being a good girl?"

"She's such a good girl. I have a feeling she's going to be a daddy's girl if daddy has anything to say about it."

"Why not, her mother already has her daddy wrapped around her little finger, why should she be any different?"

"I never realized I had you wrapped. When did that happen?"

"The day I met you. Remember when I asked you what was good and you told me nothing was good, but everything was exceptional? That was it, I was doomed. I just didn't realize it then."

"I have to confess that I've been so busy lately I haven't done anything to prepare for her arrival, other than read the literature the doctor's office gave us. Do you know if the house I used to live in is still available? I should probably check stuff like that out before I go back. Maybe it would be better if I stayed here and just took the bus back when I get everything arranged."

"Oh, no. You're coming back with me. I've gone long enough without you and my little peanut. I need you both with me. Marla, would you consider just moving in with me and the boys? There are three bedrooms and a pet door and plenty of space. This isn't coming out right. Let me start again." He took a moment to collect himself and then started again. "Marla, I love you and little peanut with all my heart. Will you please come live with me and the boys and make us all happy?" He fluttered his eyelashes as he looked pleadingly into Marla's eyes.

"Peanut and I would consider it an honor and privilege to live with you and the boys. Come to think of it, peanut has never met the boys. Are you sure we won't drive you crazy?"

"Oh, I'm quite sure you'll both drive us bonkers and we wouldn't have it any other way. You have just made me very, very happy, my love. I just have one tiny little favor to ask you. Don't look for a job until after peanut is born. I know it sounds weird, but I just have this gut feeling that you need this time to nest and get ready for her arrival without all the extra stress of working. You've been under so much stress lately and working could only make it worse. You can even call me a male chauvinist if you want, but it just feels right to me. How would you feel about it?"

"I'm not sure really. It may be a moot point since I don't have a job anyway. It's really pretty scary. I've never depended on anyone else like that. I think I need to chew on it a while. I can promise you I'll give it my full consideration before I make a decision, would that be good enough for now? I'm afraid I might go bonkers with nothing to do."

"Oh, I'll keep you busy if that's what you're worried about. I can think of something right now that we can start with."

He moved his hand to her core, already hot and moist. He gently massaged her before slipping his fingers inside her heat, marveling at the silky warmth that waited for him. Moaning softly she bucked and rode his fingers, pleasure coursing through her body. Yes, life was definitely swinging in the right direction for both of them. He slipped his erect cock into her warm, waiting body. Heaven on earth came to mind as they moved together in perfect rhythm. Climaxing together, they lay in bed for a long time just savoring their time together. Both of them blissfully satisfied with the plans they had made for their future and the future of their baby girl.

********

Marla had no idea how well she had been liked in Wynott until she had returned. People she barely knew would come up to her and tell her how much they missed Sin*A*Mon and Spice, invariably asking her when it would open again.

As a surprise to Marla, Pete arranged a lunch date with all of her previous employees. He wanted her to reconnect with her old friends as just that, friends and not employees. As expected, she started crying the minute she realized what was going on. He escorted her over to the table, kissed her goodbye (in front of everybody) and left her to her friends. He hadn't told any of them what had happened during the past two months, or even that Marla was pregnant. Everyone started to talk at once as he walked out of the restaurant, leaving her in their very capable hands.

They all hopped to their feet as she approached the table, each one taking their turn hugging her happily. After everyone caught up with each other and they had finished eating, the subject turned back to the bakery. They all wanted to know if Marla had any plans of re-opening anytime soon. To her surprise, all her old friends and employees assured her that she just had to say the word and they'd come back to work for her. When she pointed to her swollen belly, everyone dismissed the fact that her being pregnant was any obstacle at all.

"I think there are too many things going on right now. Besides, this town is pretty conservative, how do you think they'll react to the fact that I'm unmarried and pregnant? Not to mention the fact that Pete and I are living together and can't get married even if we wanted to. I would need to talk this all over with Pete. We were thinking that I'd just kind of nest before the baby came. He feels, and I have to agree with him, that I've been through so much emotional and physical upheaval lately. This time off would do me and the baby a world of good. Plus, there's the fact that the physical labor is just impossible right now."

"Have you ever considered the fact that you have four able bodied friends and employees that can pick up the slack?" Betsy asked. "Don't forget about Pete either. You know if this is what you want he'll do everything in his power to help. He's a good guy Marla, and he loves you with all his heart. Most people around here know your circumstances and why you can't marry Pete. I'm pretty sure all of them would agree that's no reason to not go on with your life. You're just as entitled to happiness as everyone else and if you lose a few customers over it, so be it. Do you really think the business will suffer because a few closed minded people shunned your establishment?"

"No, but I need to think about it a lot more and talk to Pete before I make any decisions. I don't even know if the building is still available to rent or not. How about if I promise all of you to look into it more, crunch some numbers and all that business stuff, and let you know. Maybe in a couple of weeks I'll have a better grasp on everything. You can all come over to our house and we'll have a cookout. Bring your families and we'll make a night of it."

"Sounds great." Everyone nodded their heads like bobbles as they pulled their calendar's out of their purses. Once they settled on a date they all walked Marla back to the police station and hugged goodbye, vowing to bring all the passing dishes to the cookout if Marla did the meats and desserts. It was the first time she would ever really socialize in Wynott since she arrived three years ago. She never realized what good friends she had made along the way and it warmed her heart.

She walked into the building and headed straight for Pete's office, pausing half way there to look around at the sea of desks and ringing phones. She expected a few people would look up from what they were doing, they were police after all. What she didn't expect was a standing ovation of clapping and hoots and hollers of approval directed at her with Pete standing next to her. She instinctively put her hand on her belly and looked up at Pete, who was smiling just as broadly as Marla. They gave a short bow to the crowd before Pete pretended to be tough and told them all to get back to work.

Pete closed the door and wrapped his arms around Marla, kissing her longingly.

"You are so sexy, you know that? I love you so much. How was your lunch?" He took his seat, pulling her into his lap as they cuddled together in the chair.

"Thank you so much for arranging it for us. It was fantastic. I never realized what good friends I had. We never socialized so I just assumed they could take me or leave me. I was wrong about so many things, including you, Pete. I'm so sorry I put you through all of this drama. It's really so unlike me that I can only blame it on hormones and being blinded by love. I love you Pete, so much." She kissed him for a long time, pouring all her heart and soul into each electrifying kiss. She was so happy she thought she would burst. When someone knocked on the door she jumped and started to scramble off Pete's lap. He wouldn't have any of it and held her onto his lap as he called for them to enter. The uniformed officer just smiled at both of them and went on with his business. Once he had left she resumed her kissing frenzy, this time with butterfly kisses all over his face.

"I should let you get back to work."

"I'll drive you home and then come back. You must be tired after all the talking you and your friends did today."

"I don't think I've spoken that many words since I came to Wynott. I have a lot to tell you and talk to you about. Will you be able to make it home for dinner tonight?"

"For you my darling, I'll make a point of it."

Marla felt a celebration was in order and decided to make Pete's favorite meal. Beef roast with roasted potatoes and carrots along with a salad and homemade rolls. Once most of the preparations were done she decided to lie down on the couch and read for a while. What seemed like only moments later she was being gently shaken awake.

"Oh Pete, what are you doing home so soon?"

"Honey, it's six o'clock. You fell asleep."

"Wow, really? Dinner is going to be very well done. I hope it's still edible. If not, at least I made a nice salad and some dinner rolls. Let's eat, I'm starving!" Pete chuckled to himself, loving the way she babbled when she first woke up.

Marla filled Pete in on all the details of her lunch with the girls, including re-opening the bakery. She waited for Pete to offer his opinion. When he didn't say anything for a long time her patience ran out and she ended up yelling, "Well! What do you think?"

"I think you have some very good friends."

"Duh! I'm talking about the bakery."

"Honey, if you want to do that I'm right there with you, and if you don't want to I'm good with that too. I just want you to be happy. If opening the bakery again will make you happy then I say go for it." Sensing there was no correct answer, he took the diplomatic road. .

"Baby, you make me happy and right now I guess I want to concentrate on you and the baby. But what if I regret it later?"

"What if you took on a partner? They could pick-up a lot of the workload and it would be less stressful for you. Betsy springs to mind because I would guess she has the best grasp on the overall business. Maybe you could do the business and paperwork end and she could run the baking and store operations. You would be able to do the paperwork from home once the baby is born. It would certainly give you a lot more flexibility with your schedule."

"Hey, you might have something there. I already own all the equipment so it wouldn't cost Betsy anything and it would take a lot of the stress off my shoulders. Pete, I think you're a closet genius."

"I'll think about it a little more and call Betsy to see how she would feel about it. I feel so much better, thank you, baby."

Once the dishes were done and they were settled on the couch, cradled in each other's arms, Pete decided to broach the problem of him still having someone on the force that had been working with Dillon and Captain Perkins.

"Marla, I have something I need to talk to you about and it's not going to be pleasant." He immediately felt her body stiffen in his arms. "We still have the problem of at least one other person out there that was involved in your kidnapping. I think I've come up with a plan to smoke them out. The problem is I need you to agree to go along with it. Do you want to hear it?"

"Shoot."

"What if we made up a press release that the diamonds had been found and were being held in the department's evidence room? The way I see it, the only person that would fall for it is whoever was in with Dillon and Perkins. My gut tells me it's someone that works at the P.D. So far no one has tipped their hand but it needs to be resolved one way or the other. I can't have suspicion amongst my officers, not to mention the trust issues it raises between partners. I need you in on it in case someone asks you any questions. We need to come up with a whole back story for both of us to use. One thing working to our advantage is that the only people from the Wynott P.D. that were in Suttonville at the time of your rescue were both of us. The Chief agreed to go along with the plan. He understands how detrimental a bad attitude in the squad room can spread to the entire community. Somehow I don't think you're the only one with trust issues in the community. Would you be willing to go along with it?" Trying to keep her relaxed he rubbed her arm and back while he spoke.

"If you think it could work I'm willing to try anything. I trust you Pete and it would probably take some of the danger off of me and the baby. I am so ready for this all to be over with. You have my full support. Just tell me what to say and when to say it."

"You realize that you and I are to be the only ones to know the truth. You can't confide in anyone about it, not even your best friends. That will be the hardest part for you, lying to your friends. How good of an actress are you?" "I suck at it but I'll practice on you for a while first. Want me to start now?" "Never to me, my love, but for me, yes." "It's a deal." As they sat together in the quiet of the living room Pete formulated a completely different plan in his head. If he could pull it all off, that is. Yes, he was going to be very, very busy for the next few weeks.
CHAPTER 17

In the weeks that followed both Pete and Marla had been busy beyond belief. For not having a job Marla was amazed at how busy she was. She was thrilled with the arrangement her and Betsy had come to over their partnership. Soon they would have Sin*A*Mon & Spice back open again. They had already bought the advertising space in the local newspaper for the big advertising blitz planned for the grand re-opening.

Right now she was reconnecting with her suppliers and explaining the circumstances that caused her to shut down in the first place. Glossing over most of the gritty details she assured them that they were back in business. With everyone willing to help they did a little redecorating while they had the chance. Fresh paint scented the air instead of sweet baked goods and they had hung new draperies, added some additional baker's racks for self-serve customers. They even added a few bistro tables with matching chairs for customer's that cared to linger and talk over their coffee and sweet rolls.

Lizzie Michaels had agreed to come and work for them part-time as a kind of catch all/fill in person. It suited Lizzie's her personality perfectly. Not many people instinctually knew what needed to be done and when. Luckily, Lizzie was one of those self-directed people.

In the meantime Pete was busy in his own right, crafting a press release full of false facts and bogus discoveries. If he thought he had trouble lying in person it was even worse trying to write it convincingly. Every time he would read the statement over, he would change something and then read it again, invariably changing it back to its original prose. Finally he put it aside to give himself some distance, hoping that would help him detect any trace of deception. No one other than Marla would be able to proofread it for him. Finally, after two days of agonizing over it, he went home for lunch and had Marla read it over.

Pete loved the look of Marla's face when she set eyes on him. There was no mistaking the love he saw in her beautiful blue eyes. It never failed to make his heart sing with happiness as he reflected the feelings back to her in his eyes. Never in his life, even before his first marriage, had he ever anticipated how completely in love he could be with one, and soon to be, two, people in his life.

Peanut's arrival was getting closer and closer and he couldn't wait. He walked into the house just as Marla was pouring over paint samples at the kitchen table, trying to pick just the right one for the baby's room.

"Hey you, I didn't expect to see you until dinnertime. Is everything okay?"

"Great, really. I need your help with the press release so I just thought I'd come home for lunch. What are you up to here?" Pete asked as he got a closer look at all the different color pallets she was reviewing. "Did you narrow it down to at least twenty choices here?"

"It has to be just perfect for our little peanut, so stop teasing me or I'll make you do it with me."

"I surrender. When you get a chance will you read this over and see if sounds even remotely possible, let alone believable. My eyes are ready to cross already trying to get it just right." He opened the refrigerator and poked around until he found the left over dinner from the night before.

Marla read the release twice before giving her verdict. "Pete, this is great. When do you plan on giving it out?"

"I thought I'd wait until after the cookout, just in case things get a little hairy once it's released. I wouldn't want to ruin our first dinner party as a couple after all the work everyone's done for it."

Pete finished eating his lunch and still had plenty of time to spare before going back to the office. He started nuzzling Marla's neck while she continued examining the paint samples. He nibbled her neck up to her ear, making her giggle like a little girl when he touched her secret tickle spot. Her laughter was music to his ears after all the turmoil they'd been through, and he thanked God for her every single day. When his hand slipped under her shirt and cupped her growing breast he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. He instantly grew hard, moaning at the excitement of his discovery. In no time at all they were both lying on the bed, partially clothed and panting with passion. They made love in a frantic flurry of excitement and passion. When their appetites were sated they took in the state of their clothing, laughing hysterically at their various stages of undress. Clothing hung from their wrists and ankles, neither one wanting to take the time to completely remove the clothing during the heat of passion. Less than a minute later they were both dressed and standing in the kitchen, saying goodbye to each other so Pete could get back to work.

Marla decided she liked it very much when Pete came home for lunch and hoped he would do it more often. With a sigh of contentment she turned back to her paint samples.

********

Everything was in place as their guests started to arrive for the cookout. Everyone was relaxed and happy, making themselves at home as they helped themselves to a variety of beverages while putting the side dishes into the fridge. Megan and Laura brought their boyfriends. Lizzie, Betsy and Grace all came stag, even though Grace had a husband he had gotten called into work at the last minute and couldn't make it. When everyone was seated in the backyard Pete remained standing, looking nervous as he wiped his sweaty hands down the front of his jeans. When Marla gave him a questioning look he nodded to himself and stepped in front of Marla's chair. She looked up at him, her brow furrowed together with concern. Pete bent to one knee and pulled out a small jeweler's box from his pocket. With a deep breath he began to speak.

"Marla, you are the love of my life, my true soul mate and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know that legally we can't get married, but if you'll have me I've made arrangements for us to have a small marriage ceremony this afternoon here in front of all our friends. Pastor Swain has agreed to come and perform the ceremony. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Nervously fumbling with the lid of the jewelry box he snapped it open to reveal a beautiful diamond eternity band.

Marla's mouth gaped open in stunned silence. Her eyes began to puddle with tears and her hand shook as it covered her open mouth. Tears started to roll from her beautiful blue eyes while everyone stared at her with bated breath, waiting for her answer. Once she got a grip on her tears she whispered her answer.

"Yes. I love you Pete and I'd be honored to be your wife." Her hands trembled as she took the ring out of the box and tried it on. "Oh God, it's beautiful, thank you." Now the tears flowed uninhibited as everyone clapped joyfully. Pete kissed her over and over again.

"What time is the pastor coming?" Marla asked.

"He'll be here in about fifteen minutes. I hope you don't mind, I bought you a dress I thought you might like to wear for the ceremony. It's hanging in the luggage bag in the bedroom closet. If you don't like it I'll understand, really, don't think you have to wear it just for me. I thought I'd change into my black suit in the spare room. We can both change back into our jeans after we take a million pictures. I have a bouquet of baby roses with baby's breath in a cooler in my car for you too." Pete was nervous again as he rattled off all the arrangements he'd made, afraid he'd forgotten something important.

"God, you thought of everything. You continue to amaze me. Who's coming to help me get changed?" Marla asked the women.

Everyone laughed when Megan's boyfriend raised his hand to volunteer. In the end it was her partner, Betsy, who came to help her.

Pete smiled broadly when he heard both of them oooh and ahhhh over the dress he'd chosen. Yes, she liked it. Pete walked into the room and handed Betsy another jewelry box, explaining that it was his wedding ring and that he would need Marla's back for the ceremony.

Betsy gave him a pat on the back, silently telling him how happy she was.

Ten minutes later he heard Pastor Swain arrive as everyone in the back yard greeted him.

Marla was a portrait of loveliness as she made her grand appearance in the all cream wedding dress. The beading on the bodice of the empire waist gown glittered in the sunlight as she walked to her waiting groom. The tea length dress gently ruffled in the breeze as they took their vows to love, honor and keep each other with respect. Both Marla and Pete spoke vows directly from their hearts as they gazed lovingly into each other's eyes. There wasn't a dry eye in the house, men included, by the time the rings were exchanged. When Pastor Swain pronounced them man and wife in the eyes of God, everyone cheered and clapped wildly. The dogs joined in with their approval, barking and jumping in the air happily.

After posing for a few camera's full of pictures, Pete and Marla changed back into their jeans and started cooking the chicken and beef kabobs. They had hoped the pastor could stay for dinner but he had another wedding to perform back at the church. Marla and Pete thanked him profusely, knowing he understood their situation and accepted them anyway.

Throughout the afternoon Pete caught a glimpse of Marla staring at the ring, subtly moving her hand as she watched the way the sunlight glinted off the five round diamonds. When all their guests had left they raced straight to the bedroom, consummating the marriage. After their third consummation they slept. Much later the next morning, both of them feeling too lazy to do anything more than lie in bed and feel their little peanut move about in her swollen stomach. Living happily in their own little cocoon of happiness they fed off the leftovers from the wedding, eating whenever the mood struck, and watched old movies with the dogs snoozing at their feet. Except Curly, he was small enough to worm his way onto one of the pillows at the head of the bed. When no one kicked him off he sighed deeply and fell fast asleep. Tomorrow, with all of its reality slapping them in their face, would come soon enough. For once they were content to wait.
CHAPTER 18

Marla and Pete resumed their lives come Monday morning with a new purpose and attitude, both of them thankful for all the gifts God had given them. Betsy and Marla were getting close to reopening the bakery and Pete had given the press release to all the tri-county newspapers, never thinking that anyone further away cared about the bogus discovery of the diamonds.

Pete had added security monitoring equipment onto the computer in his office so he could watch the evidence room for any suspicious activity. Whoever had been working with Dillon and Captain Perkins was keeping a very low profile and he truly had no hint as to who it might be. He would just have to be patient and wait for the guy to show his hand, taking comfort in the fact that at least Marla was now safe. With the diamonds out of the equation there was no need to go after her, the press release told the thief exactly where to look. Jeez, it practically included a freaking map. He suspected that it wouldn't take long for the culprit to show himself. Clicking his computer onto the security mode he glanced back and forth while he did some paperwork.

Marla decided to grab some carryout from the diner and take it to Pete's office for lunch, knowing he didn't want to leave his office even long enough to eat. Anyone with half a brain would figure out that would be the perfect opportunity for them to go through the evidence room uninterrupted. When she walked into Pete's office she was stunned that he wasn't there. She set out her lunch on one side of his desk and went around to his side, intending to set his out, when she looked up at his monitor and saw him standing in what she assumed was the evidence room with his hands up in the air in surrender. Someone not in camera range was holding a gun on him. All she saw was the vile weapon pointing directly at Pete's chest. She ran out into the nearly empty squad room and began yelling for help.

"Help. I need help. Someone has Pete at gunpoint." She kept her voice low but urgent as she rushed to the nearest officer, having no idea where the evidence room was in relation to his office.

"Where?" Looking around confused, the desk sergeant scratched his head.

"I'm guessing in the evidence room. Come look at the monitor in his office." Marla took off for the office with the sergeant close on her heels.

"Look. That's the evidence room, right?" Pointing at the monitor with a shaking hand she put her finger on the gun as if to make it disappear. All the sergeant could see was a gun and Pete with his hands up. They could see he was talking to whoever had him hostage but there was no audio.

"Don't just stand there, help him!" Now she was screaming. "Tell me how to get to the evidence room," she demanded. But the sergeant was already barking orders into the phone on Pete's desk, calling people from the squad room into the office in between talking into the phone. Marla trembled in the corner of the office as she let the officers take over. When one of the officers was told to head to the evidence room she tried to follow but was stopped before she made it past the hallway.

"You need to stay here Mrs. Jensen. We need you to stay out of the way and let us do our job. Captain Jensen will be fine ma'am. Have a seat right here and stay safe." The sergeant ordered her as if she were under his command. She sat down but she didn't like it. The agony of waiting was unbearable as the sergeant continued to get updates, eventually calling in a hostage negotiator.

Now was the time Marla panicked. Her breathing became shallow and irregular as she struggled for air. Her ears were ringing so loudly that she couldn't hear anything anyone was saying and her chest began to hurt as she slipped off the chair into darkness.

Marla awoke lying on a cot in some strange office with paramedics surrounding her, talking rapidly. At first she couldn't make any sense of the words, hitting her ears in a jumble of sounds. As the ringing in her ears began to subside she realized they were talking to her.

"Mrs. Jensen, just lie still. We're here to help you, how do you feel? Are you having any pain anywhere?" They questioned her endlessly before they would even allow her to sit up. All she kept asking about was Pete, frustrated that they wouldn't tell her anything. Finally she stood and just walked out of the room to try and get her bearings. Holding tightly onto the grimy walls, she looked for someone to help her find Pete.

"I want to see my husband. Where is he?" She kept mumbling to herself as she made her way through a maze of hallways and offices. Finally she stumbled into the squad room, which was now completely empty.

"Where is everyone?" She finally yelled at the top of her lungs in frustration, not even noticing the paramedics that were holding their arm out, ready to catch her if she fell. Heads poked out of multiple offices to see what was going on when one of the officers came to her and escorted her to the Chief's office. At lease she was mildly comforted when she realized that the Chief himself had taken over command of the situation.

"Tell me what's going on."

"Right now we have a hostage negotiator talking to the perpetrator and trying to get him released. So far nothing else has happened and Pete is just fine. This could take quite some time to get resolved, do you think you want to go somewhere else and wait? I could call someone to come and get you and take you home to wait there," The Chief offered.

Right, like that was going to happen.

"I'm not going anywhere without my husband. I'll wait right here and I don't care how long it takes."

She refused to be swayed and stubbornly stayed in her chair and watched everyone try to save her husband. The only time she left the office was to use the restroom, and then she was right back, waiting and hoping with occasional prayers thrown in here and there. Later on the prayers turned into bargains she attempted to strike with God and begging everyone for any news at all. Twelve hours later and they were no further along than they had been eleven hours ago.

Frustration grew along with anger and resentment amongst the officers. One of their own had turned on them and that didn't bode well with anyone. Marla had overheard the officers speak the name of Phelps as if it were a piece of shit in their mouths. She had never heard the name before and was sure Pete hadn't ever mentioned anything suspicious about him to her. Teams of officers worked earnestly to try and gather information about Phelps for the negotiator to use whenever he saw fit. Someone had obviously ordered in some pizza because someone shoved a plate at her with a couple pieces on it and a coke into her hands. She just nodded her appreciation and began to nibble, not because she was hungry but because she knew she should eat something for the baby. Even little peanut knew something was wrong because she was moving practically nonstop since this whole ordeal had started. Marla placed her hand on her belly to try and calm her down, rubbing gently and mumbling that everything was going to be all right. Hoping she was telling the truth.

********

When Pete looked up at his computer monitor he saw someone rummaging through the evidence room in a hurried and panicked manner. Their back was to the camera so he didn't know who it was, but there was no doubt in Pete's mind that he was looking for the diamonds. He was frantically throwing things around, making a huge mess in the process. Pete headed for the evidence room without telling anyone where he was going, thinking that he could handle this himself. Tough lesson to learn was that he should have brought backup.

"Phelps, is there something you're looking for that I can help with?" Pete asked casually. What he hadn't noticed on the monitor was the gun sitting on top of the box next to Phelps hand. Before Pete could draw his weapon Phelps had his gun pointed at his chest and Phelps was demanding that he throw his gun to the floor and kick it to him. He did as he was told, trying to talk calmly to Phelps with his palms out in surrender. One thing he didn't need right now was for Phelps to get a twitchy finger.

"Phelps, you know this is a no win situation for you, right?" He removed his gun from its holster with two fingers and placed it on the floor, kicking it well past Phelps until it hit the wall behind him.

"Why no captain, why don't you tell me why you think that. You are going to find the diamonds for me and together we'll walk out of here rich beyond belief. Of course, I won't be able to share the wealth with you, I've never been good at sharing and I'm not about to start now." Motioning with the gun he encouraged Pete to get the diamonds. "Fetch, boy. Go on now. Get the diamonds and this will all be over before you know it."

"I'd love to, but I don't know where they are."

"Bullshit! You put them in here now get 'em for me, or you're a dead man. I'm not kidding, either."

"The press release was a fake. I have no idea where the diamonds are or even if they ever existed. What makes you so sure they do exist?" Distraction being the only weapon he had now.

"Dillon spent the last three years tracking them, that's how. He's positive they're around here somewhere. They're certainly not at the dame's house. I searched it more than once myself and since they're not there they must be here. Now let's find them. You can start at the beginning of this isle while I watch to make sure you don't pocket them yourself."

Pete couldn't think of a better way to stall for time than to search the huge evidence room. So he did just as he was told and as slowly as possible. Several times Phelps yelled at him to speed it up but he just kept to his slow and steady pace, maintaining that he was just being thorough. He prayed that someone figured out his dilemma before he made it through the entire room. He glanced nervously at Phelps when he heard the door open and someone walk into the room.

"Phelps put the gun down and come on out of there. You can't win and you know it. Don't make it any worse on yourself than it already is." Pete recognized the voice as belonging to the Chief of police.

"Get the hell out of here. I swear I'll shoot him dead. I'm not leaving without those diamonds and it can't get any worse than it already is. I got nothing to loose, now."

"We can work this out Phelps, make some kind of deal. We all know Dillon is the instigator in this whole mess. There's no reason for you to take the fall for his mistakes. Come on out and let's talk about it."

Phelps didn't even answer. He just shot in the air towards the door.

Pete jumped, startled by both the shot and Phelps' cold hearted attitude. Now he saw the direction this situation was going and he didn't like it one bit. One of them may not make it out alive and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure it wasn't him in the back of the coroner's wagon.

Phelps didn't take kindly to the interruption and demanded that he get back to his search. Although he did as he was told he decided he wasn't going to do it quietly. He wanted to keep Phelps distracted so he couldn't formulate any type of an escape plan.

"So explain to me why you killed Captain Perkins." Knowing Dillon was the one that had murdered her he continued to provoke him. Right now he didn't give a damn about the small details. He really had nothing to lose and it gave him more than a little satisfaction to aggravate the bastard.

"I didn't do it. That was Dillon's brainstorm. He claimed she was starting to get nervous and threatening all kinds of nasty outcomes. Besides, now I don't have to share the loot with anyone. Dillon and Perkins are dead so it's all mine now. Hah, Dillon did me a favor getting rid of Perkins for me, saved me the trouble of having to off the bitch myself. What an asshole. Bastard deserved everything he got."

"You're in it just as deep as him, the problem is you're too stupid to figure that out and he wasn't." He taunted Phelps like this for several hours before they both fell into thoughtful silence. Running out of questions and comments, exhausted both physically and mentally, he now struggled to stay alert. He couldn't take the chance of missing a golden opportunity if it presented itself.

One thing Phelps thought was in his favor was the fact that he didn't care about anyone but himself, whereas Pete had Marla and the baby to worry about. Being the one with the gun didn't hurt his chances either. An evil grin took over Phelps face as he considered his possibilities. When the hostage negotiator had attempted to talk to Phelps his only answer was to shoot his gun in the direction of the voice. He was wise to all the tricks negotiator's used and he wasn't going to fall into one of their traps. As long as they stayed on their side of the door everything would be just fine.

Pete chose not to press the point that the diamonds weren't going to be found anywhere in the evidence room. He pretended to keep looking for the diamonds, knowing when they weren't found Phelps truly wouldn't have anything to lose. That would lead to desperation and the distinct possibility of Phelps shooting him out of rage or revenge, maybe both.

One fact had occurred to Pete, but clearly not to Phelps, was that every box he went through had the potential to offer him a useful weapon. What he hoped to run across was a gun or some other weapon he could use to free himself. Box after box held nothing useful to him, not even a stinking knife. What kind of pussy criminals did Wynott have?

When Pete looked down he saw something glint from the floor. He assumed it was a piece of jewelry from a robbery case, but when he bent down he saw the clear plastic bag was taped to the lid of one of the boxes he had searched. On closer examination Pete couldn't believe his eyes. The missing diamonds glinted back at him, unset stones loose in a freakin' sandwich bag. He carefully kept the expression of boredom on his face as he pretended to drop the next box he was to go through. When he bent down he grabbed the bag securely in his hand and faked a sneeze just as he pulled the bag from the lid and stuffed it into his pocket, pretending to look for a tissue, sniffing loudly and adding a little cough.

"Aw, poor baby. A little too dusty for your delicate sinuses?"

He stood and wiped his nose on his shirt sleeve. Now all he needed was a weapon and he was home free. He didn't even know what box lid the diamonds had been taped to, still reeling at the fact that even existed. Someone had taped them there, apparently biding their time until they could safely pawn them without any heat. It could have even been Captain Perkins or Dillon for all he knew.

Marla had mentioned a romantic relationship between Dillon and the Captain. Maybe she was testing him before she confessed to knowing their location. That was really the only answer that made sense. Captain Perkins had been the one that held all the knowledge in this case from the very beginning. She had no idea Dillon was capable of murder and neither did anyone else, except possibly Phelps.

Pete suddenly jumped as his fingers felt the sharp point of a knife in the box he'd been searching. Finally. Praise the Lord. He carefully lifted it out of the box, covering it with a piece of clothing to conceal it. He set it on the shelf next to the box, trying to think of a way to lure Phelps close enough for him to strike. Deciding to keep it simple he set his plan into action.

"What the hell is this?" He forced what he hoped was a look of confusion onto his face, leaning closer into the box the knife had been in. Putting his hand on the shelf, covering the knife in his large palm he waited for Phelps to take the bait.

"If it ain't the diamonds don't worry about it."

"Well, I guess someone could have hid them in this... thing, except I don't know what the hell it is or how to open. Christ, it's heavier than shit. If you want me to search it you're going to have to help me lift it out of the box. Look at this thing."

When Phelps did as he was told, Pete grabbed the knife and put it to his captor's throat, cutting the flesh slightly while he pressed the sharp knife tightly against his neck. A small trickle of blood rolled down his neck, disappearing under his shirt collar. Pete slammed Phelps body tightly against the shelves, taking pleasure at the grunt of pain that escaped the asshole's throat. He grabbed the gun out of Phelps hand, shoving it into his pocket quickly.

"Move and I'll slit your fucking throat, and let me tell you that would be the highlight of my day."

Seconds later he heard the other officers burst through the door to help him. He knew they would have seen everything from the monitor in his office. Once Phelps realized the game was over he raised his hands over his head in surrender.

"Get him the fuck out of here," Pete ordered the officers as they handcuffed him roughly.

They slammed Phelps roughly several times into the shelves as they led him out of the room, always following it up with a 'oops' or 'sorry', smiling the whole time. Pete smiled to himself when he realized how pissed the other officers were. These wouldn't be the only bruises he got on the way to his cell.

Once Phelps was gone Pete came out of the evidence room, disheveled but unharmed, as Marla slammed her body into his. He closed his eyes and held her tightly, comforting both himself and her at the same time. Thankfully his little peanut kicked him in the stomach, letting her agitation be known. His family was fine, just fine and dandy. They held each other until the other people in the room became uncomfortable, clearing their throats, reminding them that they weren't alone.

No one expected Phelps to be stupid enough to try and grab their guns until they heard the sound of gunfire. Without warning Pete felt a shot of pain enter his back, barely registering the shout of the other officers.

"Gun!"

Everyone dropped to the ground, not realizing the bullet had struck Pete in the back, moving through his body and straight into Marla's shoulder. Blood spread across Pete's back and the front of Marla's shirt. Both looked at each other in shock and horror at the realization that they'd both been shot. In the background another shot was heard, followed by the sound of someone falling to the ground.

Marla didn't feel any pain as she screamed that Pete had been shot, begging for someone to get some help. Everyone sprang into motion at once while she pressed her hand firmly to his wound, trying to stop the flow of blood. He lay on his stomach, barely conscious and groaning in pain, while she struggled to speak calmly and keep him awake.

"Pete, look at me. Don't leave me now we still have things to do here. Stay with me. Help is on the way so you stick with this. Everything will be just fine." She said whatever came to her mind as she waited for the paramedics to arrive. What seemed like forever was in reality only a few minutes. Soon she was being moved aside as the medics moved in. It hadn't occurred to her that she couldn't move her right arm until someone touched it when they tried to help her stand. She screamed loudly, collapsing back to the ground as the pain seared through her shoulder. She stayed on the floor but refused medical care until she was sure Pete was taken care of. When the Chief yelled for another paramedic, Marla looked around in confusion wondering who else had been hurt. She found out as soon as the paramedic touched her shoulder, jumping in pain at the pressure he was applying to her bleeding wound.

"Pete. Take care of Pete first. He's been shot. Who's taking care of him?"

"He'll be just fine, my partner is taking care of him and he's doing fine. Can you tell me your name?"

"Marla Jensen. I'm Pete's wife." She answered as if the medic was an idiot.

"Marla, it appears that the same bullet that shot Pete went through your shoulder as well. You need to hold still so I can take care of you. I promise your husband is being well taken care of. How far along in your pregnancy are you?" Seeing she was distracted, he took Marla's chin into his hand and turned her to face him.

"Umm. About seven months along. Is something wrong with the baby? I can feel her moving, is she all right? Please take care of her, don't let anything happen to her." Hysteria took over as she pleaded and sobbed, suddenly fearful for the baby.

"The baby seems fine, Marla. She has a nice strong heartbeat so don't worry about her. Right now we need to start an I.V. and keep you hydrated so the baby will stay fine. The ambulance is outside and it looks like your injury is a through and through wound, which is a good thing. Let's get you to the hospital now and get everything taken care of." The medic narrated as he did each procedure, doing everything in his power to keep her as calm as possible.

"Pete needs the hospital more than I do. Take him first, I can wait."

"He's already on his way so now it's your turn. Just hold still and let us get you on the gurney."

When Marla looked up she was aware of continuing commotion behind her, worrying that it was Pete she tried to lunge off the gurney but she was strapped down tightly.

"Pete!" She yelled as she heard CPR being performed on someone behind her.

"That's not Pete, Marla. That's Phelps they're working on now. One of our officers shot him after he shot you and Pete." The Chief explained calmly as he held Marla's hand to comfort her.

He couldn't really blame her for not trusting anybody, his own officers had betrayed her and the rest of the community. Whoever had allowed Phelps to grab their gun was in a world of shit as well. Heads were going to roll over this whole situation.

In the emergency room Pete and Marla were placed in separate rooms, each one inquiring about the other. Frustrated when no answers were coming, everyone ignoring him as they went about the job of saving his life, he just started yelling.

"MARLA, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? WHAT DID THE DOCTOR SAY? TELL ME WHERE YOU WERE HURT, BABY."

"PETE! OH GOD, PETE, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? NO ONE WILL TELL ME ANYTHING! TELL ME YOU'RE OKAY."

"I'M FINE BABY, DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME. THE BULLET WENT STRAIGHT THROUGH ME INTO YOU. IS PEANUT ALL RIGHT"

"PEANUT'S FINE. THE BULLET WENT RIGHT THROUGH MY SHOULDER AND OUT AGAIN. I JUST NEED TO BE SEWN-UP A LITTLE AND I'LL BE FINE. WHAT ABOUT YOU?"

"NO MAJOR ORGANS WERE HIT BUT THEY'RE GOING IN TO STOP SOME BLEEDING AND THEN SEW ME UP. THEY ASSURE ME IT'S NO BIG DEAL, JUST A PRECAUTION. THEY SAID I'LL BE FINE." "THANK GOD." Before she could say anything more she was sound asleep from the drugs the doctor had pumped into her I.V.
CHAPTER 19

Pete woke in his bed, afraid to move until he fully remembered what had happened. When the memories did come back it was in a rush of anguish and pain. He wondered where Marla was and what had happened to whoever had shot both of them. He hoped they were still alive, not because he cared about them but because he wanted to get a piece of them first. He felt the dull throb of pain in his back as he shifted slightly in his bed. He rang for the nurse and waited for a response.

"You're awake. That's good. How do you feel? Are you having any pain," The nurse asked as she fussed with the tubing of his I.V.

"I'm fine. Where's my wife?"

"I don't know exactly. I know they admitted her but I'm not sure which room she's in. From what I've heard around the nurse's station she's doing just fine. They're just keeping her overnight to keep an eye on her and the baby, but everything looks very good."

"I need to see her. Help me get up, will you?" When he started to swing his legs over the side of the bed the pain shot through his body with a vengeance, causing him to fall back onto the bed with a groan.

"Hold it! You need to stay right where you are. You've just come out of general anesthesia and we don't want to rile-up that hole in your back and get it to bleeding again. The doctor would have my hide if that happened and your wife doesn't need to see you woozy and shaky." She lectured him with her hands firmly on her hips. "Besides, I think they said they gave her something to sleep so she could settle down enough for them to sew her up. She'll be out for the rest of the night anyway. I promise I'll find out where she is and check on her if you assure me you'll behave while I do it," She looked sternly into Pete's eyes like a mother scolding her child.

"I promise."

"Good. I'm also going to give you something more for your pain when I get back. Stay there, I'll only be a minute."

The nurse came back and let Pete know everything was going fine with Marla and the baby as she injected his pain medication into his I.V. tubing. Within five minutes he was sound asleep again.

The next time Pete opened his eyes he saw Marla, sound asleep in a wheelchair with her legs in the supports of the chair sticking straight out in front of her while she held his hand in hers, snoring loudly. He chuckled softly to himself as relief washed over him. God, he wished he had a tape recorder because she would never believe how loud she could snore. After a few minutes she jumped awake with a loud snort. Pete was sure it was the sound of her own snoring that had startled her.

"Hey there, beautiful. How are my girls?"

"Oh, Pete, I was so worried about you. How do you feel?"

"I'm just fine, baby. What are you doing in here? You should be in bed yourself, but I'm glad to see you. Do you have any idea what the hell happened to us or even who shot us?"

"All I know is somehow Phelps got a hold of someone's gun and shot you. When they were taking me out of the squad room they were doing CPR on Phelps. I have no idea if he's alive or dead."

"Sounds like you'd prefer if he didn't make it."

"He's not on my list of favorite people. The only reason I hope he's alive is so he can suffer every day for the rest of his life for what he's done to us."

"Shit! I totally forgot. Do you know where the Chief is?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Where are my clothes? Can you check the closet for me and see if my slacks are in there."

"Tell me what's wrong or I'll hurt you, and you know I can do it too."

"I found the diamonds. I stuck them in the pocket of my slacks while Phelps wasn't looking. I forgot all about them and I need to turn them in to the evidence room, properly labeled this time of course. Can you see if they're still in there for me, please?"

Marla rushed to the closet and found his clothes folded in a bag on the bottom of the closet, and fished around in his pockets for the diamonds. Her mouth gaped open in awe as she looked at them while they danced brilliantly in the sunlight from the window.

"Wow. Look at these babies. They're huge. No wonder everyone was looking for these. I've never seen anything like it before in my life. There's an officer outside your door, I'll give them to him."

"No. I only want the Chief to get them. They have a history of turning decent men and women into animals and I don't want to take any chance of them getting 'lost' again. Once is enough for me."

Marla poked her head out the door and asked the officer to get the Chief for them, explaining Pete needed to speak to him. She set the diamonds on the bedside table. She didn't want to have anything else to do with them either. In her opinion they were cursed.

When the chief walked in he looked frazzled but relieved. Pete didn't say anything as he held the bag of diamonds up with his thumb and first finger, as if they were dirty.

"Fill me in of the status of Phelps."

"He'll survive. He admitted that he got rid of Captain Perkins body for Dillon and told us where to find it. At least now her family can bury her properly. He'll never see the light of day again, thank God. All this for a few bucks, how sad is that?" The Chief shook his head slowly trying to figure things out.

"Did I really bring those diamonds with me to Wynott when I was found here?"

"To be honest, I really don't know for sure. If you did you had no knowledge of them. If you had known you would have just taken them when you woke up and skipped town. Instead you stuck around and made something of yourself without the use of the diamonds. You worked your ass off to save the money for the bakery and you made a success of the business. I really miss those baked goods." Marla swore she saw a tear form in the Chief's eye.

"Not for long you won't. Betsy and I have been working together to open it back up. She's my new partner now that the baby's coming. We hope to open back up within the month."

"Let me know your opening date and I'll buy baked goods for the whole department." Happily he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

"I'll hold you to that." Marla laughed as she sat back into the wheelchair on shaky legs.

The chief took that as his cue to leave.

"My wife needs to get back to her room and get some rest, could someone help her with that?"

"I'll be happy to help her." The nurse grabbed the handles and started wheeling her towards the door before she could object.

"No arguments, Marla, and do as you're told, you've got some very precious cargo you're carrying there and I'm not taking any chances with you or peanut. I'll see you later and I love you." Pete waved goodbye as Marla blew him a kiss that ended with a large yawn. He chuckled when he heard her tell the nurse how bossy he was and the only reason she was letting him get away with it was that he'd been shot. He loved how feisty she was and hoped their daughter would be the same way. ********

One Month Later

Marla opened her eyes, dreading the fact that Pete had to return to work for the first time since the shooting. She had enjoyed their time together without the interruption of daily life intruding on their happiness. A whole month alone with him had spoiled her. Now she found that she didn't want to share him with anyone, including the Wynott Police Department.

Betsy and the other girls had gotten the bakery up and running with minimal help from her. Because of her shoulder wound and huge belly the only thing she had been good for was issuing advice and ordering supplies, but at least it was something. During the past month she had managed to slip out of bed at her regular four thirty in the morning and be back from the bakery just as Pete was getting up. Then they had the rest of the day to do as they pleased within the limitations of their injuries. They had ended up hiring a handy man to paint the bedroom for the baby and Marla had found the cutest stencil's of a forest scene on the internet that she intended to do herself after the baby was born. Everything was finally falling into place and settling down. Who knew what life would be like once the baby was born? For now it felt good to have the emotional and physical rest.

Marla had decided to go into the bakery late today so she could make Pete a healthy breakfast. She had made arrangements at the bakery to have four dozen baked goods delivered to the police department as a celebration of his return to work. After all, what was the good of a cop having a wife who owned a bakery if you couldn't flaunt it once in a while? Cops and donuts. A match made in heaven.

Marla looked up from the stove when Pete came into the room and gasped. She had forgotten how handsome he looked in his dress clothes.

"What's wrong? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. You just look so damn sexy in your dress clothes that it took my breath away for a second. I'm really going to miss you today." She held back the tears threatening the back of her eyes while he took her into his arms.

"I'm going to miss you too, baby. But on the bright side, look how much we'll have to tell each other at the end of the day."

"Promise me that if you get too tired you'll come home early. Remember the doctor said he thought part-time for a week might be a good idea to start out with. By all rights you should still have two more weeks to recuperate."

"I'll be careful, I promise. Thanks for making me breakfast, it looks great. Is this going to be an everyday thing?" Smiling widely he wiggled his eyebrows vigorously.

"Not as long as I'm working at the bakery, but today is special so I took the morning off. I thought you could drop me off on the way into the office if it's all right with you." The spasm that overtook Marla's stomach stunned her into silence as she clutched her belly. It only lasted for a short time but it took her breath away.

"What happened?"

"It was just a spasm. The book said it was common. They're called Braxton-Hicks contractions. It's my body's way of getting ready for the baby's delivery. I'm fine now, really. It just took me by surprise." She turned back to the stove and continued cooking, feeling his eyes boring into her back as if waiting for her to explode or something.

"Finish your breakfast or you'll be late on your first day back."

As the morning went on Marla had a few less intense contractions. They certainly weren't anything you could time or predict. When she ran out of things to do at the bakery the thought of going home to an empty house depressed her, so she decided to walk to the police department and see if Pete had time to have lunch with her.

When she walked into the squad room there were shouts of thanks for the baked goods and various greetings. Since they'd been shot she had gotten to know quite a few of the officer's better. They had often stopped by the house to check and make sure they were both recovering and didn't need anything. They really were a great group of people and it was helping her with the struggle of trusting anyone in a uniform.

Halfway through the squad room Marla clutched her belly, falling to her knees as another contraction, very strong this time, griped her stomach. She tried to breathe but it was nearly impossible. Everyone ran to her, all of them asking questions at once.

Pete came out of his office after hearing a commotion, only to see Marla kneeling on the floor and clutching her stomach. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all and carried her into his office, placing her in the chair. When the spasm passed and she was breathing normally she smiled at him sheepishly.

"That one hurt a little."

"I'm taking you to the hospital right now. I know you think this is normal but just humor me here." He picked up the phone and called the doctor's office. As he suspected, they advised him to take her to the hospital immediately.

"But I'm hungry. I came to see if you had time for lunch."

"We'll drive through someplace on the way. Come on my love, let's get moving." He hustled her out the door and explained to everyone in the squad room where they were going as he walked her to the door.

While they waited in the treatment room of the emergency department she had a few more contractions, and this time the baby monitor recorded them like an EKG. When her doctor came in and looked over the readings his face didn't change expression at all.

"Well, Marla, it appears that your little angel in there is in a hurry to come out. These are not Braxton-Hicks, they're the real thing. I'd like to delay the delivery as long as possible. Right now the baby needs to gain as much weight as possible before delivery. Right now we're running about a month early. We have some medications to stop the labor so I'm going to keep you here, but I don't want you to worry about the baby's health. The heartbeat is strong and healthy and if we have to deliver early we will. The only problems I would anticipate with that is that the baby will need to be incubated and gain weight before she can go home. It wouldn't be the ideal, but it's certainly no tragedy either. Regardless of when she's delivered I expect her to be healthy. I'm ordering an ultrasound to try and get an idea of her weight right now, but it's only an estimate at this point. We're going to keep a close eye on you, give you the medication and see what happens from there. I know this is hard, but try to stay positive. This isn't the end of the world, just a little bump we have to deal with. Do you have any questions?" "When will we know if we have to go ahead with the delivery?" Marla asked. "If your water breaks then we'll have no choice but to deliver. Up to that point we will keep trying everything we can to hold on a little longer."
CHAPTER 20

Marla curled up in her hospital bed waiting for the next contraction, hoping it didn't come. It took her several hours to stop worrying and take a deep breath of relief. The medication seemed to be working. She had forced Pete to go back to the office. He was making her nervous, staring at her intently and jumping at every little movement she made. She had called him several times throughout the afternoon to reassure him that everything was going fine and that she hadn't had any more contractions. Eventually she drifted off into sleep, dreaming of the day when the baby would really be here.

When Marla woke up she saw Pete sitting next to her bed, reading the newspaper.

"Hi. When did you get here?"

"About a half hour ago. Did you have a good nap?"

"It would have been better if you'd been with me, but yeah, I dreamt about the baby. Before I got to the hospital today I didn't feel ready to have the baby, like I wasn't prepared enough. Now I can't wait for her to get here. It's weird how quickly things change. How about you, do you feel ready to be a dad?"

"Oh, yeah. I can't wait. After my divorce I never in my wildest dreams thought that I'd fall in love again, let alone have a family. This is way beyond anything I ever expected. I can't wait to see what happens next."

"You ever hear the saying to be careful for what you wish for, you just might get it."

"As long as I have you and peanut I'll die a happy man."

"Don't talk about death. I've had enough of that for a long, long time. Just the thought of me having to testify at Phelps' trial makes my palms sweat. I don't even want to think about it."

"Well maybe you'll luck out. Phelps has already accepted a plea deal so right now it doesn't look like there's going to be much of a trial. We'll just have to wait and see. In the meantime, my love, we need to keep our eye on the ball, pun intended."

Pete's cell phone rang, interrupting their conversation. The look on his face sent chills down Marla's spine. He suddenly sat down as his face paled and he grunted his responses into the phone. He ended his conversation with a chilling order.

"Send a uniform over here to the hospital and have him guard Marla. Once he's in place I'll come back over to the station."

"What's wrong?"

"Phelps escaped from the jail." He stated grimly as he now paced back and forth in her tiny hospital room.

"You think he'll come after me?"

"I don't know, but I'm not taking any chances. If he thinks you still know where the diamonds are he might. It's hasn't been leaked that I actually found the diamonds, so he might think they're still out there somewhere. I'm assigning a guard for you around the clock, no one will get to you, I promise baby."

"Is it possible there are more people involved in this than everyone thought? Maybe there are more accomplices within the department, or even outsiders?"

"Anything's possible. We already have Phelps deposition but I don't think that's common knowledge. According to the DA he swears that he isn't aware of anyone else being involved, but I don't believe anything he says. Phelps is so slippery I wouldn't put it past him to have others involved, sort of like a puppet master pulling everyone's strings without them knowing about each other."

"Do you think someone helped him escape from the jail?"

"I won't know that until I have a look at the scene. It might help me get a better feel for the situation as a whole. I don't want you to lay here and worry though, you'll be safe. Do you want me to ask the nurse to give you something to help you sleep or to calm your nerves?"

"I'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about. Phelps has no conscience when it comes to murder and I don't think you're one of his favorite people, if you get my drift. He wants you to pay for all of his misery and he resents our happiness. Those are powerful motivators to people like him. Don't underestimate him, Pete."

"Don't you underestimate me, Marla. I'm more determined than him because I have more to lose than he does. Hate is a powerful motivator, but so is love."

Marla nearly jumped out of her skin when there was a light tap on her door. Pete answered it immediately and Marla saw through the crack in the door that it was a uniformed police officer.

"Your guard is here so I need to get back to the office. Will you be all right baby?"

Her first thought was, no. Don't leave me. But she had to be brave a little longer, for Pete's sake.

"I'm fine, go get the bad guys and hurry back. I love you."

"I love you too. Take care you two."

Pete walked straight to the nurse's station, explained the situation, and asked for a mild sedative for her. He'd almost had to peel her off the ceiling when the officer had tapped on the door and she needed rest, not all this bullshit. The nurse promised to take care of it immediately, grabbing a syringe and bottle before he had walked away. While he was walking down the hall of the hospital he called Betsy and filled her in on the latest news, complete with the escape of Phelps.

"I'm going straight to the hospital and sit with her. She must be a nervous wreck, poor thing." Betsy sympathized.

"That would be so wonderful if you wouldn't mind. I asked for her to be lightly sedated, but I would still feel better if someone she trusted was with her. I'll call the officer posted outside her room and let him know to expect you. Thank you so much Betsy, it really makes me feel better to know you'll be with her."

"No problem, I'd just be sitting at home worrying anyway. This way I'll know what's going on and keep Marla calm at the same time. Just let me know if you need anything else, Pete. Oh, I almost forgot, Pete can I have your cell phone number in case I need to talk to you? I promise I won't give it to anyone else."

"Good idea, Betsy. My number is 555-3333. Be sure to leave a voice mail if I don't answer."

When Pete hung-up with Betsy he felt a lot better about Marla, knowing Betsy was bossy enough to keep her from freaking out. Now he could concentrate on getting Phelps back in custody, confident that she was in good hands.

When Pete surveyed the cell Phelps had escaped from he was relieved that he had acted alone, without help from yet another of Wynott PD's finest. Better yet, he had stolen a car parked just down the street and there were already BOL out for both the car and Phelps. Another positive is that they had a witness that told them which direction he had taken off in, and it was the opposite direction of the hospital.

Pete called all the neighboring police departments and personally asked for their cooperation, just in case they would need it later. It had been about an hour since they had noticed Phelps was missing from his cell so it surprised Pete that none of the outlying departments had gotten even a visual on him. That in itself was unsettling. Could Phelps have an accomplice in another town? Had he ditched the first car he'd stolen and now is in a different vehicle? Would he be stupid enough to stay in Wynott? He guessed anything was possible.

********

Betsy walked off the elevator, humming to herself and moving briskly toward Marla's room. She didn't even take the time to change out of the scrubs she wore every day at the bakery. Before coming to work at the bakery Betsy had put in thirty years at a nursing home and couldn't get out of the habit of wearing scrubs. In her opinion they didn't make anything more comfortable to wear or more durable. Nowadays they came in all sorts of happy patterns and cheery colors and Betsy was pretty sure she had them all in her closet.

Suddenly Betsy realized that she was completely alone. At first she thought she had gone the wrong way, backtracking to look at the signs again. No, she had been headed in the right direction. Boy, the hospital must have made some major staffing cuts for it to be this empty. She slowed down her pace and peered into the open doorway of some of the patient rooms to see if she saw any staff. Nothing. When she looked up she noticed that several of the nursing call lights were lit outside the rooms. That couldn't be normal. You can't keep all these sick people waiting for care. Once in a while when people heard her passing their open doors they yelled for her, mistaking her for a nurse. As she was rounding the last corner to Marla's room she froze in her tracks. The nursing station across from Marla's room was empty as phones rang and call bells beeped insistently. It was like a ghost town. The chair sitting outside of Marla's room was empty where her police protection was supposed to be. The hair on the back of her neck rose, making her shiver. She slowly headed for Marla's room, crouching below the nursing station so she couldn't be seen passing by. Luckily, Marla's door was cracked open just enough for her to squeeze through. She silently closed the door behind her, relieved when she saw Marla lying there with her eyes closed, resting comfortably.

"Marla," Betsy whispered while she gently shook her shoulder, jumping slightly when her eyes popped open quickly.

"Betsy. What a surprise. I didn't know you were here. What's going on at the nursing station, listen to all that noise. It's been like that for the last twenty minutes. I guess it's true, you can't get any rest in a hospital," Marla joked. When Betsy didn't laugh she realized something was wrong.

"What?"

"I'll tell you in a minute. Can you walk or do you need a wheelchair?"

"I'm not supposed to get out of bed. Why? What's going on Betsy?"

"I need to get you out of this room. I'll be right back. I just need to find a wheelchair."

"There's one under the window here in my room. Tell me now."

"Marla, I could be making a mountain out of a mole hill but there isn't anyone out at the nurse's station and your guard isn't in his chair. No one's taking care of the patients so I need to stash you somewhere safe and then I'll call Pete." Betsy gave the narrative while she grabbed the wheelchair and put it next to Marla's bed. "I'll grab your I.V. bag and help you into the chair. Let's go."

Without argument she did everything as directed.

Quietly Betsy opened the door, listened for a few seconds, and then cautiously peered out. Nothing had changed, all the phones were still ringing and call bells were still going off. Betsy decided to head back toward the elevators, knowing getting off the floor would be the best for Marla's safety.

"Okay, here's the plan. I'm going to wheel you as fast and quietly as I can to the elevators. Don't say a word or make a sound until the doors on the elevator have closed and it starts to move. If it takes too long for the elevator to come or I hear a noise I'm going to park you in the stairwell. If that happens you need to lock the door as soon as I can get it closed."

"Got it! Let's go." Betsy could see Marla trembling, the poor little thing. Impressed that she did what she had to regardless of her terror.

Betsy eased the wheelchair quietly over the thresh hold of the door, then took off running at top speed. Thank God for tennis shoes.

They rounded the corner on one wheel, almost tipping over if not for Marla pushing against the wall to put the airborne wheels back on the ground. Betsy almost had trouble stopping the wheelchair at the elevators with all the momentum she'd built up. Nervously she pushed the elevator call button several times. She sneaked back to peer around the corner, making sure no one was following them. Muffling a gasp when she saw a man with a gun standing in the middle of the nursing station, yelling commands to someone in the room behind the station. She decided quickly that she needed to get Marla in the stairwell if the elevator didn't come by the time she reached her again.

Just as she returned to Marla the elevator doors slid open. Betsy grabbed the handles of the wheelchair, pushed Marla in and pressed the down button. Seconds before the door closed completely someone wedged their chubby fingers through the tiny opening.

********

Pete couldn't figure out why Phelps hadn't been spotted by anyone yet. He had all his men out looking around every place that Phelps was known to hang out at. Someone sat outside his house, his parent's house, his favorite restaurant. Anyplace he could likely be. It just wasn't adding up. He couldn't overcome the feeling that he was missing something obvious. The only reasonable explanation was that Phelps didn't leave Wynott and he was somewhere that strangers were normal for the atmosphere. The only thing that kept coming to mind was the hospital. Strangers were in and out at all hours of the day and night, yet no one thought anything about it. Hide in plain sight. Thank goodness Marla was safely being guarded. On a hunch Pete decided to send two uniformed officers to the hospital to poke around and see what they could find out. He also sent a couple of uniforms over to the Motel Wynott to sniff around there. Couldn't hurt, and they might just get lucky.
CHAPTER 21

Betsy wasn't giving up after all she and Marla had been through. Before she thought about it, she chomped down as hard as she could on the fingers that tried to stop the elevator doors from closing. She heard a loud shriek of pain and watched the now bloody fingers slip out of the small crevice. With the taste of blood in her mouth she spit into a tissue she had pulled from her scrubs pocket. Relief poured through her when she felt the elevator begin to move downward. With a sigh of relief she pulled out her phone and dialed Pete's cell phone. He answered on the first ring.

"Betsy. What's going on?"

"Oh, Pete. Thank God you answered. Marla is fine...now anyway. I'm taking her down in the elevator right now and back to the emergency room."

"What's wrong Betsy?" Breathlessly she relayed the story to Pete with Marla throwing in details every now and then. By the time she had finished the story both she and Marla were in tears.

"I'm taking Marla back to emergency because I don't want her to go without medical supervision. Don't you worry, I'll stick to her like glue. Tell the officers where I am and I'll give them a description of the man I saw with the gun. At least he wasn't in a police uniform but I don't know what happened to the guard that was supposed to be outside Marla's door.

"Betsy, I can't thank you enough for saving Marla and the baby. We owe you everything. I'm coming right now so sit tight, helps on the way."

Marla didn't have the heart to tell Betsy that her contractions had started again. Maybe it was just because she had been under extreme stress, although they did seem more regular than earlier in the day. Of course she hadn't been in mortal danger earlier in the day either. Marla decided to let the nurse know as soon as she was settled into the emergency room.

No sooner had she come up with that plan when it she was foiled again. Her water suddenly broke, gushing out the sides of the wheelchair and leaving a watery trail to her treatment room.

"Betsy, my water just broke. Go tell the nurse immediately, our baby insists on coming out now."

Betsy parked Marla in the doorway of an empty treatment room so she could keep visual contact while talking to the nurse. Luckily for Marla the same nurse that had attended her when she was first brought in was still on duty. The nurse immediately picked-up the phone and called Marla's doctor.

"Betsy, is Pete coming to the emergency room or setting up a command center somewhere else in the hospital?"

"He didn't say. I better call him and let him know the latest developments."

"No, not yet. Let him do his job. I read that with the first baby my labor will take quite a few hours, so there's plenty of time. I don't want him distracted right now and I'm not in any danger."

Although Betsy didn't like the idea she understood why Marla felt the way she did. The last thing Pete needed was a distraction while dealing with some nut with a gun. She decided she would play it by ear and if she thought the birth was getting close she would call Pete then. In the meantime she fed Marla ice chips and talked her through the contractions, coaching her breathing and letting Marla squeeze the crap out of her fingers. When the nurse announced that Marla was dilated to eight Betsy decided she needed to call Pete. After dialing his number Betsy heard the ringing in stereo, suddenly realizing that Pete was coming through the door while his phone was ringing.

"You were calling me?" Pete's smile faded when he saw the wet tendrils of Marla's hair sticking to her perspiration soaked face.

"What's going on? Marla, are you all right?" Pete looked around the room and realized that the doctor was in the room and putting on a gown and mask.

"Just in time. Get a mask and gown and suit up Mr. Jensen, it's time for your daughter to make her appearance." Dr. Michael's instructed.

"I didn't even know you were in labor again. Why didn't you call me?"

"It's my fault. I didn't want you distracted and I thought I'd be in labor a lot longer than it turned out to be. I'm sorry, Pete. Please don't be mad. Betsy wanted to call you sooner but I wouldn't let her." She grimaced in pain with the next contraction, suddenly feeling the overwhelming need to push.

"I feel like I have to push now."

Unsure what to do or where to go, he stood in the middle of the room until Dr. Michaels spoke up.

"Mr. Jensen you may want to come down here with me. The baby is crowning and we'll need you to cut the umbilical cord."

Panic registered on Pete's face. "Me? You want me to cut the cord?"

"Absolutely. I wouldn't have it any other way. All of my father's participate in the birth process."

Two pushes later Pete and Marla were suddenly the proud parents of a five pound baby girl. Marla and Pete held each other, sobbing with joy at the birth of their perfect little girl. When the nurse put the tiny baby in Marla's arms they counted her fingers and toes, nuzzling and kissing her constantly. She had come out with a mass of unruly and wild dark hair and the most brilliant blue eyes they had ever seen. The baby didn't even cry or whimper, looking up at her parents as they returned the loving stares. Instantly she had two very loving parents wrapped around her tiny baby finger.

Betsy, who had discretely slipped out of the room right before the birth, was called back into Marla's room to see the baby.

"Oh, she's so beautiful. You two certainly know how to make a beautiful baby."

"Would you like to hold her?" Marla offered.

"Could I?"

"Absolutely. Without you we wouldn't be having this happy moment. You saved my life and the baby's life. Go to Aunt Betsy now, baby girl." Marla gently placed the contented baby into Betsy's arms.

"What are you going to name her?"

"We're naming her after her favorite Aunt. Elizabeth Rose Jensen."

Now Betsy had tears streaming down her face, humbled by the honor Pete and Marla had bestowed upon her.

Baby Elizabeth now had one more adult admirer wrapped around her tiny little baby finger. Quite an accomplishment for only being out in the world for five minutes, but then first born tended to be over achievers. ************

Here's an excerpt from my next release:

Refusing to Repent
CHAPTER 1

Becki ran as fast as she could, frantically looking behind her and panting until her lungs felt like they were ready to burst out of her chest. Sweat beaded her brow as the terror ran through her body. Was he still following her? She had no idea where she was or where she was going, not knowing the city very well yet. A new ripple of fear seized her when she heard the heavy footsteps behind her, closing in on her quickly. Breathless, exhausted and lost she took off running again, trying to get away from her attacker. The horrors of what he'd done to her stashed in the back of her brain. Now was not the time to fall apart. If he caught her she knew she'd end up dead in an alleyway. Running for her life...

"Mommy, wake up. I'm scared." The tiny voice of her daughter startled her awake while the sweat from her body saturated her pajamas and sheets. It took her a few seconds to realize that she was safe.

"You're scared? Why? What happened?" Hugging her daughter to her tightly as she crawled into Becki's bed with her.

"You were screaming in your sleep again. Don't do that anymore, it scares me." If only it were that simple.

"I'm sorry, baby, I'll try not to do it anymore." Glancing at the clock on her nightstand she realized that it was almost time for them to start their day. She felt exhausted from the nightmare that had once been her reality. Would she ever be able to sleep without some kind of nightmare haunting her dreams? After all, five years was a long time ago. A lifetime ago. Yet here she was, wiping away the sweat as if it had all happened yesterday.

********

Becki backcombed Mrs. Winters' hair while the bleach sat on Lori's foiled head. She nodded while she listened to Mrs. Winters' endless complaints about her daughter-in-law and what a terrible job she was doing raising her grandchildren.

"Can you believe she let those little ones have cold cereal for breakfast? Children need a hot meal three times a day, but will she listen to me? Hell, no." Mrs. Winters complained. Becki knew her daughter-in-law and sympathized with her. Mrs. Winters slimy son had run out on her and the two boys, leaving Deb to her own devices without any emotional or financial support. Mrs. Winters didn't know how lucky she was Deb could even afford the cereal. Mrs. Winters raised one no account son and never worked at anything but gossip and criticizing.

"Well I'm sure she's doing the best she can. It's not easy working and raising children without any help." Becki tried to defend Deb but after years of listening to her mother-in-law she knew it went in one ear and out the other. Luckily Lori's timer went off and Becki had to excuse herself from Mrs. Winters for a minute, grateful that she had been able to hold her tongue and not tell Mrs. Winters exactly what she thought of her. Becki checked Lori's hair and decided it was time to rinse the bleach out, which she did just as Jillian came running into the beauty shop.

"Mommy, look what I made at preschool today! It's a picture of you and me. Can we hang it up?" Jillian's little cherub cheeks were pink with excitement. Her hair, once neatly held back in the braids Becki had put in this morning, now barely hung in place on the child's head, distorted beyond recognition by the hair falling all around her face.

"As soon as I'm done with my customers we'll pick just the right spot for it. Have Heather give you your snack while I finish-up here. Tonight is clean the beauty shop night, sweetie." Becki answered, love radiating from her eyes at the beautiful little girl.

"Yes mommy." Jillian turned and skipped back into the house, holding her picture tightly to her chest to keep it safe.

"Becki, she is just the happiest, sweetest little girl I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. You must be so proud of her," Lori commented.

"I'm blessed, that's for sure." Becki admitted, not wanting to say more than was necessary. Mrs. Winters was listening with all her might, probably salivating at the thought of being able to spread anything she perceived as negative. Why did gossips only spread what they considered to be bad news? Lord forbid Becki go on and on about her precious Jillian, an unforgivable offense that she knew she would hear about tomorrow morning while she worked the breakfast shift at the diner.

One of Becki's rules of survival was to never talk about her personal life either at the beauty shop or in the diner. If you happened to be a customer at the shop when Jillian came home, you knew she was there, otherwise Becki kept to herself. She had learned to keep a cool, aloof distance from the townsfolk, letting them draw their own conclusions. All she really cared about was Jillian, letting her daughter know every chance she got how much she loved her and how proud of her she was. But that was always in the privacy of their home and no one else's business.

If she was going to stay in this town she knew she had to keep a low profile. People had long memories around here and she was sure she would never live down the reputation her mother had made.

Being the town nutcase that tried to murder her own pregnant daughter was just the last in a string of psychotic episodes her mother had gone through. The last murder attempt was the one that landed her in the state mental institution for the criminally insane. The only good that had come out of Becki 's attempted murder was that she now had a house that was paid for, allowing her to gather a little nest egg for Jillian's future. Just one of several nightmares that haunted her in her dreams.

Often she worked two, sometimes three, jobs. Saving and scrimping every cent she could, knowing things could change in the blink of an eye. The waitressing job at Mom's Diner, the only diner in Somerset Falls, paid for her and Jillian's health insurance while the beauty shop paid the bills. Tips got saved religiously. She kept her tips in a coffee can until it couldn't hold any more, then she would take it to the bank and deposit it. She chuckled to herself thinking that the twenty five cent tip that Mrs. Winters gave her every week would add up to a whole dollar by the end of the month, and that was a dollar more than she had last month.

By the time she locked the salon door Jillian was done with her snack and came through the door with her picture in hand.

"Mommy, is it time to hang my picture now?"

"Yep. Lets go into your special area and see where it would look the best."

She grabbed the tape dispenser and walked with Jillian to the area of the beauty shop that was designated just for her. When Jillian had been younger and she didn't have money for a sitter she had made a little room for her in the same style as the rest of the beauty shop, but where customers weren't allowed. It followed the same pink, white and green color scheme as the rest of the shop. It was sectioned off with lattice painted white with silk greens 'growing' up the lattice. Jillian had her own small television with built-in dvd player, a recliner with end table and all her little tykes kitchen ware. She often stayed in there for hours 'cooking' for the customers, humming to herself and even taking her naps on the cot against the wall.

Throughout the rest of the shop she kept the garden theme going with pink floral wallpaper, a white linoleum floor accented by four hot pink dryer/chair combinations matching the hot pink shampoo bowls and chairs. For fun she had painted the desk and back cabinets in a cheery green color, keeping the Formica countertops white. The ceiling was a white drop style with florescent lighting. To look at it you would never know it was a converted garage. As her business grew she had been able to put a gas fireplace in the corner of the reception area, giving it a warm, cozy atmosphere while providing heat in the cold winter months. She had made slip covers for a couple of couches and chairs in a cute, happy gingham check and making the throw pillows in the same pattern as the wallpaper, tying everything together nicely. Overall she was proud of her achievements, even if it wasn't at all what she had planned for herself back in high school. Without any help from anyone, including Max James, she had made the best life she could. With a shake of her head she pushed the anger and hurt he had caused her to the back of her mind. Ancient history and a complete waste of time, rehashing it wouldn't change anything. What counted was the here and now.

"Okay Jillian, show mommy the spot you picked for your art work."

Jillian walked up to the art wall and put her chubby little finger on the one spot of uncluttered wall.

"Right here."

"You got it, babe." Becki tore off a small piece of tape and placed the paper on the wall, pretending to take care that it was centered. With a flourish she taped it up.

"Did I do it right?" Trying to keep a straight face, she asked as seriously as possible.

"Perfect. Can I watch a movie while you clean today? I had a rough day." Jillian flopped down into the chair, raising the foot even though she was short enough to not need it.

"Oh, poor baby. Of course you can. I'll only be a minute." Becki laughed to herself at how adult Jillian sometimes spoke. She had probably said the same words a million times to Jillian. Seriously though, how bad could a four year- olds day be?

"Do you want to talk about your bad day?"

"Nah. I'm all right. I just need to relax for a while."

"Well you know where to find me if you change your mind." She started cleaning the salon, grateful that Jillian wasn't 'helping'. Without her help she would finish twice as fast.

Becki looked through the huge window of the shop just as a shiny black car, one she knew didn't belong to anyone in town, as it drove slowly past her house. Who in the world would be visiting Somerset Falls in a car like that? She knew she would find out tomorrow morning at the diner.
