

PROLOGUE

"All you have to do is get in that shop and take the stupid doll! Just how hard can that be?" he said, holding out the fat white envelope.

He waited for an answer. None came; only that steady, polar cold, stare. He shivered, almost pocketed the envelope, and forgetting the whole thing, then decided to go on. He must hold firm; not turn back; the die was cast. "I want it clear. No one is to be hurt."

He pointed to the Dare To Care Salon. "I'm sure you can manage it. You should know all the ins and outs of such things. That's why I chose you... a ... professional, so to speak."

Only a deep intake of air and just as long an exhale was the answer.

"Do you want the job or not?" he snapped, then swallowed. He didn't know anyone else, and he softened his tone. "That's all you have to do. Just take the doll and bring it to me. Very simple."

He held out the money filled envelope; everyone needed money. It was the one thing he learned in life... everyone needed money. At the unmoved facial structure, he began to curl his hand, withdrawing the offering when it was wrenched out of his hand.

"Done," was the only word he heard before his car door opened and closed with a slam that rocked his car, leaving him alone in the dark.

The swallow came hard to him.

Margaret Van Der Wolf

5915 N. DENVER AVE.

PORTLAND, OR. 97217-4324

COPYWRIGHT 2012

POINT OF ATTRACTION

By

M. Van Der Wolf

Perhaps no one would have died had Georgina Gainsworth not taken that last appointment for a hair cut before leaving her Dare To Care Salon. Maybe it all would have been different had she been out the door and on her way to her Wednesday night writing class before Jeffrey walked in.

But Georgie did take the appointment and nothing that followed could be undone.

~~0~~

Georgie barely heard all that Tonie, the last minute patron, was saying beyond, "This is the way I want my hair cut."

Immediately, Georgie's focus went to the picture Tonie brought in with her.

"I need it out of my way," Tonie said. "You know, in and out of the shower and out the door I go."

"Got it. Let's get you shampooed."

As she shampooed Tonie, Georgie's nose twitched at the hint of cigarette odor in the young woman's hair. Once she towel dried the clean hair, Georgie tunneled her focus on how much length was to come off and how to make the chosen style fit the face structure to make the cut Tonie's and Tonie's alone.

Tonie was a referral, and no stylist had too many clients; not if she wanted to stay in business. Georgie had been a widow for three years and though Sam left her well cared for, to her, each patron entering Dare To Care Salon mattered. So fitting in Tonie had never been in question. The thing to do now was work fast, give the cut she knew she was capable of, and still be out of the shop with plenty of time to get to her writing class twelve miles away. From the outskirts of Portland, twelve miles could multiply in driving time during the evening commute.

"This will do it," Tonie said, looking in the mirror and pushing at her new cut with a smile. "Thanks for fitting me in on such short notice."

"Worked out well. Who can I thank for giving you my name?" Georgie asked.

"Actually, I heard the checker at the market complimenting a customer on her hair cut and the woman mentioned Dare To Care Salon and your name. So, here I am and they were right. You are good and fast."

Georgie handed her a business card. "Nice meeting you, Tonie, and here's my card. Hope to see you again."

"Oh, you will. Definitely."

The glass door swung open with the ping of the bell hanging from its frame, letting in the first cool hints of autumn air accentuated with the slight odor of burning wood from the fireplaces in the surrounding homes. It also let in Jeffrey Sanders and his shy smile.

"Georgina, I thought I'd come in and make an appointment to get my hair cut." His arm slipped around hers with a slight clandestine tug as he leaned into her.

Georgie let herself be drawn away from the prying ears of her two hairstylists, Emmee and Brandy, and from Tonie, who was reaching for what appeared to be a dark gray suit inside a Best Dressed Dry-Cleaning plastic bag hanging on the salon coat rack by the dryers.

"I thought we could go to dinner," Jeffrey murmured.

But before Georgie could answer, the door swung open again. This time the little chime announced Cassandra Blanes, Georgie's writing classmate, childhood friend and her ride for the evening.

"Hey, Cassie," Georgie said, grateful for the interruption yet doing her best to keep from showing it. "I am ready to go out the door. Just need my coat. Jeffrey, thank you for the invite, but you know this is Wednesday, my writing class night, and I'm late." She looked to Emmee who was pulling at her blond spiky-do while keeping her clear brown eyes on the scene through the mirror. "Emmee, can you make Jeffrey an appointment for me please?"

"Sure thing," Emmee said, one eyebrow lifting with a minute hint of a smile on her shiny glossed lips.

"Brandy, you working late tonight?" Georgie asked, ignoring Emmee's look. Evidently her moment of distress was bringing a little joy into her employee's life.

"Kind'a, sort'a," Brandy said, from her styling station. "I'm just finishing up this perm, then have a hair cut and blow-dry coming in."

"Emmee?" Georgie asked, without eye contact.

"My color is just driving up," Emmee said, pointing at headlights shooting brightly through the shop window. The car motor died and its lights slowly faded out.

"Okay. Gotta go." Georgie ran her fingers through her own short hair to get it out of her face yet keeping that little care-free flip-out look, then pushed her arms through her coat sleeves. "Remember, try not to go out alone to the car. Safety in numbers."

"Yes, Boss Lady," both hairstylists said, Emmee tossing Georgie her hat.

Georgie caught it, shoved the knitted headgear in her coat pocket and started out the door, then stopped. She turned sharply and scanned the reception area. "Damn!"

"Now what?" Cassie asked.

"Where are my chapters? I had them. I know I had them. Last week's and this week's. Where are they?"

"God, Georgie," Cassie sighed, "get it together, get it together."

"Yeah, yeah," Georgie said. "Don't be a nag. They're here somewhere."

"This them?" Tonie asked, picking up a file folder from one of the hair dryer chairs.

"Yes! Thank you." Georgie pressed the folder to her breast and smiled at Tonie. "Nice meeting you, Tonie. If you have any problems with the cut, you know where to find me. See you all. Come on, Cassie, out the door."

"Hey, hey, hey, you're not the boss of me," Cassie scolded without malice while holding up her car keys with a sharp shake. "I'm driving tonight, remember? I have the keys. I have the power."

"Spare me your delusions of omnipotence please. Oops." Georgie gave a turn on her heel and went behind the reception desk. She placed a fingertip to her lips then planted the quick kiss on Raggs, her twenty-four inch Raggedy Ann doll sitting on the glass shelf next to the shop's hair products display. "'Nite, Raggs. Don't let the girls get into trouble."

"Now can we go?"

"Yes, Cassie. Now we can go. Bye all," Georgie said, leaving Jeffrey staring at her then at Tonie, and the girls waving their traditional so go, already wave.

~~0~~

"That chapter you submitted last week was good," Cassie said, steering her deep blue Cherokee Jeep out of the Western Shopping Center onto the highway.

"Thanks."

"That love scene should play havoc with the guys."

Cassie's laughter was infectious and Georgie joined in.

"So, who was the shy violet you left stranded needing a hair cut?" Cassie asked.

"Jeffrey? Very sweet. His father's accounting office did Sam's and my taxes. Since Sam's death, my taxes and shop books are still done by Jeffrey's office; Sanders Accounting, four units down from the shop. But Jeffrey refuses to work on any of my bookkeeping." Georgie didn't wait for Cassie to ask, but leaned over to whisper, "Conflict of interest, he says."

"Oh, my God! Straight and narrow as an arrow. Is that boring or what?"

Georgie laughed, but shook her head. "We went to dinner once; no, twice, two dinners about a week or so ago. Or was it two weeks? Oh well..."

"You actually went out on a date and didn't tell me?"

"I'm telling you now, aren't I. Besides, it wasn't really a date, or dates. It was a business thing. We talked, but there was very little in common. He likes foreign films with subtitles. I like mysteries, Sci-fi, and fantasies. I'm a Trekkie. He thinks we Trekkies are dumb."

"Oooh, and downhill from there?"

"Sort of. I tried talking about my writing with him. You know, get feed back? Big mistake. You remember Laurie in Little Women? Same problem. Jeffrey thinks my writing is Oh, what a nice little hobby." A deep sigh filled the quiet pause as Georgie waved a hand of surrender. "It's just me, I tell you. Sam spoiled me."

"Sam was exceptional, I'll grant you that. But Kiddo, it's been three years, and I won't tell you that I in any way know the pain in your heart, but... you're my friend; the closest thing to a sis I can claim."

Georgie let a small laugh come out, knowing what was coming next.

"Georgie, you're going to have to let go one day. With Steven in med-school, Paula trying to balance law school, being married and pregnant; you need your life back."

"I know."

"You need to get out, date, maybe even get..."

"Stop," Georgie said, her voice a soft plea, her head pressed back into the seat headrest.

"I'll stop. But you do need to get out with the opposite sex."

A long sigh whispered its way out as Georgie said, "It'll happen... maybe... Someday... but Sam's a tough act to follow. Don't know how or why, but he just put up with me and my... my... idiosyncrasies."

"Oh, is that what they are? Idiosyncrasies?"

They laughed again, then let the pause lengthen into a quiet uneventful drive to the Community College. Cassie's swearing over the crowded parking lot at the college was the silence breaker.

"Hey, what about M&M?" Cassie asked, putting the car into a parking slot and pulling the emergency brake.

"Who?"

"M&M. Mason Montgomery?"

It took Georgie a second, then pointed a finger at Cassie as they got out of the car. "Aah... BADGE 747, Detective Fletcher," she said, referring to the novel and its main character that Mason Montgomery, AKA M&M, was working on. "Good story; a little gory, but very good writing. What about him?"

"God, Georgie, you really, really do need to get out more," Cassie sighed, her blue-green eyes pinching shut with a sad head shake, then snapped them open to give her a sharp look, "but not with Shyness, the accountant."

"Cassie, I'm fine with my life the way it is." Georgie wanted to stop the conversation from going where she didn't it want it to go.

"Hey, George."

They both turned at the call.

"Hey, BADGE 747," Georgie greeted Mason Montgomery. He was the only one she knew that called her George. At his approach, she refused to look at Cassie.

Mason adjusted his cap by the bill, almost in a salute greeting, then took his place beside them as they made their way up the long wide steps to the rows of classrooms. Georgie had to crane her neck to look up into his face. Mason had to be at least six foot three, which only emphasized her own five-foot one.

"That was some love scene you submitted last week," he said.

"Guys," Georgie defended against the typical attitude toward a scene involving sex. Sure, the jibes were all in good humor, but she still felt the need to fight for the whole of her work. "There was so much more to the chapter than the love scene. Is this what I'm going to hear from the rest of the class?"

"I know it's only three classes into September, but in case you hadn't noticed," Cassie said, "the guys outnumber us girls this term. So, yeah, I think you will hear more about the love scene than the rest of the chapter."

"Ouch. Testosterone takes a hit," Mason said, his face scrunching up, then smiling. "The whole thing was good, George, couple of typos, but good. Hope when the time comes for Fletcher to hit the sack, I can write him a scene as worthy."

"Maybe you two can work on it," Cassie slipped in with a subtle nudge at Georgie.

Georgie felt molten lava cover her, and she hoped Mason hadn't seen the nudge. Cassie was getting into her little matchmaker persona, and if Georgie didn't bring it to a stop there would be no end to it. But right now, all she could do was stare straight ahead of her, very much aware of the satisfied grin on Cassie's face. She was afraid to see what reaction Mason might have over the remark. Lord keep her from all the matchmakers in her life. Hadn't Cassie noticed he was wearing a wedding ring? If ever there was a person who needed a good smack of reality, it was her dear friend.

"You know, that's an excellent idea," Mason said, seeming to have missed the innuendo. "I know police work. But I need the rough edges of old Fletch rounded out a bit when the time comes."

Something in Mason's voice caught Georgie's attention, then she realized what it was. Excitement. That surge brought on by the need to be able to talk to someone about his work. Didn't his wife read his writing? Comment on it? Sam always did that for her. Cassie had April. It was sad to think Mason's wife couldn't appreciate the talent in the man or want to be part of it.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't think of what to say, then decided saying nothing was the best route. This was an area scattered with fragile, yet sharp, glass that could cut deeply, painfully.

Her cell phone went off, and she dug under her hat in her coat pocket to fish it out. "This is Georgina."

"Georgie, she's gone!" Emmee's voice shook into Georgie's ear, the words running into each other. "We looked and looked. We can't find her."

"Emmee, slow down. Take a breath."

There was a long deep gasp.

"Who's gone?" Georgie asked.

"Raggs! She's gone. Someone took her."

Chapter two

Georgie turned slightly to get better reception on her cell phone. "Emmee, slow down. Are you and Brandy okay?"

"What's going on?" Cassie asked.

Georgie shook her head, motioned Cassie off, and stepped away while trying to keep out of the path of other students rushing to their classes. "Emmee, slowly. Take another breath. Are you and Brandy okay?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Okay. Was it a robbery? Did someone come in? What?"

"No. Brandy was making change for a walk-in haircut when she realized Raggs was gone."

"Is there money missing?" Georgie asked.

"No. We looked all over for her. She's gone. It must have happened when we were both in the back at the shampoo bowls."

"Was Nick in? You know how he likes to move her around."

"No. Should we call the police?" Emmee asked.

"You're certain there's nothing else missing?"

"Not that we can see. The drawer hasn't been tampered with. All the money's accounted for. Just Raggs is missing."

"Don't call the police then," Georgie said, and even as she began to form the words they choked her, "Raggs would probably not be on their priority list."

"Georgie. I'm so sorry. We should have been more alert..."

"How could you have known. You guys be careful when you go to your cars. I'll see you in the morning."

When Georgie flip-shut her phone, she struggled to hold back her tears, but they burned hot in the cold night. Her first thought was to go search for Raggs. There would be other classes, but she only had one Raggs.

"What happened?" Cassie asked.

"Raggs is missing."

"What?"

"Who's Raggs?" Mason asked. "And why not call the police?"

Georgie let out a deep sigh and said, "Missing: one very old Raggedy Ann doll called Raggs. Somehow I can't see the police putting out an Amber Alert or APB." It hurt to keep her voice level and it was an effort to stay calm.

"Oh, Georgie," Cassie said. "Raggs's been with you since... since..."

"For a long time," was all Georgie could say.

"Where did this happen?" Mason asked. "In your home? That's breakin' and entry."

Georgie tried to answer, but held back.

"No," Cassie said, patting and smoothing Georgie's shoulder. "She keeps... kept... Raggs at her shop."

"Still breakin' and entry."

"They uh... didn't break in," Georgie said. When her voice shook, she paused, cleared her throat, and added, "The shop was open."

"It's still a crime," he stressed.

"She's just a doll, I know..." Georgie reflected on her words, found them so disloyal to her Raggs she had to stop. How could she explain? Being an only child, Raggs became that missing sibling on countless occasions when she was alone in her room. Even though she lived between Nick and Cassie, there were times when neither of them were around, but there was always Raggs.

"George, listen," Mason said. "You know I'm a cop. So I know what I'm talking about. This Raggs might be just a doll, but it's a theft. Even if your place of business was open, it's still a theft. Someone walked into your shop and walked out with something they shouldn't. While it may not be an emergency, it is a crime. Call the police first thing in the morning and make a report."

Georgie knew she should be listening, but she was confused by the puzzle of it. Why take Raggs? As usual, she had taken the cash receipts to the bank before it became too tempting an amount. So there was just enough in the till to run the shop for the evening; enough to satisfy a thief so he would, hopefully, not harm whoever was working at the time. Yet only Raggs had been taken.

"George, tell me you will call this in. George?"

Mason's voice finally broke through Georgie's jumbled reflections, and she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She knew her long self-imposed routine: hold back your grief, keep it inside, at least until you were alone in your room and your head lay on your pillow. She did it through her mom's illness and death, her dad's heart attack and death, and then her beloved husband Sam. Now Raggs. Keep it inside, Georgie.

"All right, guys. Class is on," someone called out from the door.

The three of them looked up at the summons, but said nothing nor moved. Georgie felt Mason and Cassie's eyes, the question left unspoken, until Cassie's arm draped her shoulders to pull her in, as she always did, with a tight and quick hug.

"Are you up to it?" Cassie asked, giving her another squeeze. "We could go home. No biggie."

It was all Georgie could do to swallow and say, "What could I do if I were home?"

"Point taken. Come on then. Class it is."

~~0~~

During class break, the group split up into their smaller clusters among the other students of the Community College; those sitting on the courtyard benches smoking, others choosing the indoor tables. They all snacked on the cafeteria's offerings while the writers discussed the evening's chapters already critiqued and those yet to be gone over.

At an inside table, Georgie tried to focus on the remarks given on her chapter and the inserted notes on the pages, but couldn't. When she sipped on her coffee to moisten the dry cookie in her mouth, there was no taste. Should she tell Steven and Paula about Raggs, she wondered? Then thought how silly that would be. Paula had her law books to hit while carrying the first grandchild in the family, and Steven had his schoolwork. Med-school was no easy thing.

"Is it okay if I sit?" Mason asked.

"Sure," Cassie answered, also arriving with her own cup of coffee.

"George?"

"What?" She looked up at them. It took a second for her to grasp what Mason was asking. "Oh. Yeah. Sure."

Taking off his cap and setting it on the table, he then sat next to her. "Have you heard anything more?" He ran a hand over his hair that Georgie noticed was an attractive one-level color up from black.

Georgie shook her head. "I told the girls to go home. We'll look for her in the morning."

"I gather Raggs has been with you a while," he said.

Cassie reached over and Georgie smiled, squeezed her friend's comforting hand with a deep breath and sigh.

"A very long while," Georgie said, avoiding Mason's inquiring gaze, and shrugged, but the weight of loss would not be shed so easily. Two students walked in from the courtyard. A gust of chilled evening wind swept the room, carrying with it traces of their nicotine habit.

Cassie's cell phone went off and she excused herself. Georgie kept her focus on her cuticles, but her thoughts would not abandon her Raggs.

Mason lowered his head slightly and finally managed eye contact. And just as Georgie feared, the soft gray hue of those eyes did a number on her. If she had killed someone, she would have confessed on the spot, and she began her tale.

"When my mom found out she had ovarian cancer she made this doll for me; to take care of me, she said." Georgie struggled with the rising sadness causing her voice to quiver and tears to well. Keep it inside, Georgie. And she forced them back. "She... uh... she knew she was going to die, and said if ever I needed her or wanted to talk to her, I could just talk to Raggs, and she would hear me. Raggs would be our connection. I was..." The lump in her throat choked her and her voice broke, forcing her to clear her throat before going on. "I was eight. She died a year later."

Mason's fingers moved and Georgie thought he was about to reach for her hand, but Cassie came back to the table. She was tying up her shoulder length deep carrot-red hair, then picked up her notebook. "Well, that was one of my patients. She's in labor... no messing around this time. I have to go to the hospital. Georgie, can you drive me? Then you can take the car, leave it at the shop. April will come get me when I finish with the delivery. We can pick it up then."

Georgie nodded. "Sure thing." And she too began to gather her class work.

"You know, I could take you home," Mason offered, his large hand draping over hers.

Georgie froze.

It had been three years since the touch of a man gave her the comfort of strength and promise of protection. It was a struggle not to draw back her hand for no better reason than just how much she liked the warmth of his touch. "No. I'm fine, really. Cassie and I have done this before."

"Oh, yeah. OB/GYNs have no lives. But you know, that's not a bad idea, M&M taking you home."

"M&M? Is that what you two call me?" Mason asked.

They laughed.

"No. I call you BADGE 747," Georgie admitted.

"At least you're smiling," he said, giving her hand a squeeze, and Georgie could swear the gray of his eyes deepened in color. "But seriously, I can take you home. Not a problem."

The glint off his wedding ring stabbed Georgie and she bit her lip in punishment for enjoying the little flip her heart took at his offer. She slowly slipped her hand clear of his, and a shadow passed over his face as his smile lost its light. The wife, she thought, of course. An awkward pause hovered like stale cigarette smoke.

"Okay," Cassie said, dropping her keys on the table. "This silence is more pregnant than my patient in labor."

"Maybe George has a jealous husband," Mason said. "Wouldn't do to come home with a strange man."

"You're the one with the wedding ring," Georgie countered, pointing at his finger. How did this become about her?

"Wedding ring?" he asked, staring down at his hand. His eyebrows twitched as though in surprise, as if some alien thing had attached itself to his finger.

She almost laughed at the expression on his face, and said, "Yeah, wedding ring."

"This is just too funny to miss," Cassie said, "But, kiddies, I have a baby on the way. Did neither of you realize you're both wearing wedding rings? Now I know Georgie's widowed, but I have to admit it never occurred to me to look at your finger or I would never have suggested you take her home. So, quickly, now. Explain. I have to get going here."

"My wife died four years ago," he said, turning over his hand, still staring at the one finger as it bent slightly then straightened. "I guess I just never thought about taking it off."

"Okay," Cassie said with an exaggerated sigh and snatched up her keys. "Mason, you're taking her to her shop to get her car. Make sure she gets home. One improper move from you and you will die. Remember... I'm a doctor. I can make it happen so no one suspects a thing."

Georgie flinched as Cassie's fingertip poked the top of her head and gave her hair a quick tug.

"Call me when you get home."

Georgie rubbed the spot. "You make sure you keep your cell phone on in the delivery room. Your patient will love it, I'm sure."

But Cassie was already on her way out the door, one hand up waving her good-bye, the other holding the cell phone to her ear.

Georgie gave Mason an apologetic shrug. "Some people are blessed with big brothers. I have Cassie."

"She makes two brothers," he smiled.

After a quiet moment, Mason clicked his tongue and winked. "Well... I guess it's just you and me, kid. What do you want to do?"

"That is such a bad Humphrey Bogart," she told him, and gathered up her chapters. "But since I now have an armed escort, I might as well finish class. You are armed, aren't you?"

He put his cap back on and eyed her through the corner of his eyes. "Let's just say you might want to take care how you critique my work tonight."

Chapter three

After giving Mason the basic directions to her shop, Georgie ventured into breaking the awkward pause. "Being on the force... there must be a lot of stories in here," she said, pointing to her head then at his. "You know... Joseph Wambaugh. How long have you been on the force?"

What else can you talk about on a twelve mile car ride with someone you hardly know? Other than Cassie, this was an entirely new class. In three Wednesdays, Georgie had come to know the main character in Mason's book, but not the author himself, then found herself wondering what she was doing taking a ride from a stranger. He was a fellow writer, but a stranger nonetheless. A cop, true, but he wouldn't be the first cop with a dark side. Do bad guys look this good in light blue turtlenecks and black leather jackets?

"I've got fifteen years behind me including a six year stint in the army. I was an MP four of those years. So the choice of what to do when I got out was clear. You know... military police, civil police."

As he spoke, Georgie noticed him shift in his seat, getting more comfortable behind the steering wheel. Sam used to do that, she thought, and like Sam, Mason kept both hands on the wheel. She wondered if it was because she was in the car, then decided Mason's mode was more from his training. Always be in control.

"That's a lot of years for notes on a rich assortment of people, character habits, incidents. You have kept notes, right?"

He nodded with a hint of a smile. "And you?" he asked. "Have you always been into writing?"

Writing, she thought. He didn't ask how long she'd been a hairdresser. That was always the first question. Then would come the, "Why hair dressing," as if she should somehow defend her career, never mind that it offered her an endless assortment of characters for writing.

Well, this is interesting, she thought, and almost laughed at how such a little thing... pleased her.

"What?" he asked.

"What what?" she countered, feeling as though she'd been caught with a dirty comb in her hand or plagiarizing a piece of literature.

"You looked as though you were about to laugh or something." He gave her a quick glance through the corner of his eye, then focused straight ahead. "Did I say something funny?"

"No," she said, waving a hand in denial then settled back in her seat. "It was just a thought that was so out of context it would mean nothing to anyone else but me. But to answer your question... yes, I've always scribbled. I even used to go up on the roof of our house to write, much to the annoyance of my dad, but he knew... if I disappeared? Look on the roof first."

"And you've never been published?" He shook his head, making that little "tisk" with his tongue. "Doesn't hold much hope for me. You're good, and yet not published in all this time?"

To this, Georgie did laugh. "You think I've always been at this level? Oh, I take that back. My letters to the editor have always been published. Got my butt into a lot of trouble with those letters over public issues." Then waved a pointing finger. "Oh, turn left at the next light."

"Published is published," he said, steering the Toyota into the left turn lane.

"It's a lottery. Right time, right place, right reader, and right frame of mind. Lot of rights to happen. Pull into that Western Shopping Center there," she pointed. "Actually, I stopped writing while the kids were growing. Once they were grown, Sam, my... husband, and the kids stated flat out, they would no longer be used as excuses for me not writing. One day, I came home, and there was a computer all set up in a room with shelves filled with my old reference books. They worked all day getting it all set up." She pointed again. "That's my shop there."

"Dare To Care Salon," Mason said.

The dash lights reflected in his eyes as he looked over at her, and Georgie wondered if the flush of heat showed in her cheeks.

"Do you cut guys' hair?"

"Eighty percent of our clientele is men."

"Oh, I can believe that."

"My car is over there, the red Subaru," she said, indicating the area furthest away from the stores facing the street, and waited until he pulled up next to her car, leaving an empty parking space between. "I have two stylists that are cuter than hell and damn good at their job. They do draw in the young guys."

He put an elbow on the steering wheel and rested his chin in his hand to look over at her. "And the more mature men?"

Georgie ran her fingers through her short flippy hair, shook her head with an elaborate toss, then deliberately batted her lashes at him. "Why, they come to me, Badge 747, they come to me."

He laughed, and she found it a nice sound, pleasing, with a good smile, not showy and wide, just... honest.

"You do play the game well," he said.

"Yes, I do. I have over twenty years behind that chair bantering with men and women." She opened the door, shivered in the cold breeze, and took out her hat. With one tug, she put it on, pulling it over her ears, then gathered her writing. "Thank you for bringing me to my car. You really don't need to follow me home."

"And have the Mad OB/GYN after me? Not on your life. I'm making sure you get home."

"Really, it's not..."

"Watch it!" Mason called out, just as another car pulled into the empty spot.

Georgie's heart took a leap before she recognized the dark green Durango as the window whizzed down. "Jeffrey?"

"Is everything okay?" he asked her, but his focus was on Mason.

"Sure. Why not?" she told him, slightly shifting her stance so he could get a good look at Mason.

"I thought you said you were going to your class, but I guess... I mean, I just thought..."

"I'm fine," she said, and made a show of the class work she held in her arms, "and yes, I did go to class, but Cassie, being the ever-on-call OB/GYN, had to go deliver a baby. Mason, here, was kind enough to bring me to my car."

Mason tipped his finger to the bill of his cap.

Jeffrey pursed his lips, his eyes and mouth twitching before smiling, but Georgie thought it looked forced, stiff, and hardly shy.

"Are you on your way home now?" Jeffrey asked. "Would you like..."

"Yes, we are. Mason and I are going to discuss our chapters over coffee. So I'm fine. It was kind of you to think of me, though. By the way..."

"Good night then."

Before Georgie could say anything more, the window went up and the vehicle pulled out of the slot. She watched as he drove out onto the street and heard the squeal of his tires.

"Wow," she murmured, very taken back at Jeffrey's actions. And what was that with the squealing of the tires? "I was going to ask him if he noticed anything when he was at the shop, but..."

"How do you know he was there?"

"What? Oh. He was making an appointment as I went out the door to go to class."

"Is he the type who might take Raggs?"

"Jeffrey?" Georgie looked at Mason. She felt the tug of her brow furrowing in disbelief while her breath misted in the cool moist night.

"As a joke, maybe?"

"Again, Jeffrey?" She smiled as she shook her head. "No." She laughed. "No, no, no."

"But you did look surprised at the squealing tires."

"That was... strange, to say the least." She pondered over the moment while reaching into her pocket for her keys, and was unable to comprehend Jeffrey's actions.

"And can I ask... not that I mind now, but can I ask what that was about? You telling him we were going to have coffee and go over the writing?"

Her jaw muscles ached from clenching her teeth, but she couldn't bring herself to tell Mason she was blatantly using him to make Jeffrey see there was nothing there for him to cling to as in "them" as a couple. But that felt so... so self-absorbed, so utterly conceited. A deep sigh escaped her. Her uneventful day had somehow become this... this evening filled with unanswerable problems and complications. And her poor Raggs. Georgie would rather the thief had just opened the shop till and taken the money. But to take Raggs!

"Is he a boyfriend wannabe?"

Georgie shrugged and looked in the direction Jeffrey had driven off. She'd hear about this tomorrow... or the day after, whenever his haircut appointment had been scheduled.

"Do you mind if I do see you home?"

"What?" she asked, being jerked back to the moment.

"Does your mind wander a lot like this?" he asked.

"No," she half snapped at him, then waved a hand to erase to her mood. "I've just never had so much on my mind like I have this evening. But honestly, you don't have to see me home."

"Humor me on this, George. I won't hold you to your little lie to... what did you say his name was?"

"Jeffrey Sanders."

Mason nodded that he heard, but made no comment. Cassie, what have you gotten me into, Georgie thought with a deep breath, but as she looked into Mason's eyes, the concerned face, there was a tug to a place she thought buried with Sam.

"Okay," she heard herself say, "Follow me home, but keep up. I don't want to keep looking in the rear view mirror for you."

"Oh, I think I can keep up," he smiled.

~~0~~

This is not wise, Georgie told herself, turning the key in the Subaru ignition. First you take a ride with a man who's basically a stranger. Now you're guiding him to your doorstep. Yeah, so he's tall, dark and handsome. Great eyes. Ax murders don't have AX MURDERER written on their foreheads.

After several blocks, she steered her car up the winding road into the foothills. It was a few minutes before the beams of her headlights hit her mailbox and wide mouth of her driveway. As always, she by-passed her mail box. Morning and daylight was soon enough to get her junk mail. Her important deliveries were dropped off at the shop. As soon as she was well into the driveway, the motion detectors turned on the small lights along the gentle sloping doublewide gravel path where it made a small circle in front of her house.

The porch light was out.

The motion detectors should have turned it on. The lamp in the living room window shone brightly, turned on by the auto-timer. The tall slender window in the dining section of her kitchen also offered a soft light. Strange. She was certain the porch light had gone out on other occasions, yet... tonight, the house looked so dark without that light. She placed the garage door opener on the seat beside her and stopped the Subaru. While giving the place a wide scan, she reached behind the passenger seat and grabbed the baseball bat she kept there and waited.

Georgie's body jerked with a gasp when she saw headlights sweep across the front of the house.

Chapter Four

As quickly as her body tensed, it relaxed when she remembered Mason was behind her. His headlights sent a multitude of shadows dancing up, down and across the front of her house. Then she saw what she was waiting for. It was Daisy, her five year old silver gray and white Schnauzer coming to sit at the gate.

Normally, Georgie would have driven into the garage, closed the door behind her and entered the house from there into the kitchen. Since she failed to enter, Daisy had to go from the kitchen, through the laundry room, and out the doggie door into the back yard and around the house.

When Georgie heard Mason open and shut his car door she let the baseball bat slip from her hand back into its place behind the seat, and got out of her car. Daisy barked.

"It's okay, girl," she said with an added shush.

"You really should leave the porch light on," Mason said, holding the door for her.

She forced back the urge to ask him if he really thought her so foolish, but stopped herself with a scold. That's what three years of living alone will do for you, she thought; you get snippy. "Actually, the motion detector should have turned it on. It must be out." She eased the car door from him, but didn't shut it.

"Do you have an extra bulb? I can replace it."

"Nah. I'll do it in the morning."

This time Georgie saw a mixture of annoyance and satirical humor in his smile. He rubbed the back of his neck before slipping off his hat and putting it back on.

"Would it kill you, Miss Independence, to let someone help you?"

Daisy whimpered and took off to the backyard, before Georgie could answer. Daisy's barking echoed back from the small slope behind the house and through the trees. It was fenced, so Daisy couldn't go anywhere, but a skunk might still be able to get in and do her dog some damage.

"Daisy! Come." When there was no response, Georgie stood on her tiptoes to look over the roof of her car knowing full well her height would let her see nothing. She was stalling. "Daisy! Come!" She sniffed. No skunk odor.

A soft, but cool, breeze swirled around the awkward quiet settling between her and Mason, and Georgie shoved her hands in her pockets. The large oak at the side of the garage let loose some leaves and they sailed across Mason's headlight beams. It never occurred to her till this moment the distance between her and her neighbors, though she could see a patch of light on both sides and way up the hill. It was a deceiving comfort. Most of her neighbors tended to fly away for the winter. Georgie heard Daisy's panting before the Schnauzer appeared and sat once more at the gate.

"Don't need you stinky and needing a tomato juice bath," Georgie told Daisy, then turned to get back in her car.

"Now what are you doing?" Mason asked.

"I'm going to put my car in the garage, Mr. Macho Handyman, then get you that spare light bulb."

They both turned at the muted hissing of car tires on the pavement seconds before headlights flickered through the shrubbery bordering the property from the road. The car made its way down the road with Daisy's bark mingling with the rustling of the breeze through the trees.

"Hush, Daisy," Georgie ordered, then took a deep thoughtful breath. "Turn off your car and follow me into the garage," she told Mason, and turned the key in the ignition. "The fence gate is locked."

With an overdone swing of his arm, cap in hand, he motioned her to move the car into its home. Georgie closed the door and flicked the remote. The moment the garage door began its slide up into the rafters, the interior light came on and Daisy took off around the house.

~~0~~

"Have a seat," Georgie told Mason as she tossed the empty light bulb carton into the re-cycle container then patted Daisy on the head.

After a moment she heard Mason politely clear his throat, and turned. He was standing at the kitchen table, looking down at one of the cushioned seats.

"Oh," she said, a small laugh rumbling inside her as she indicated the curled up gray and off-white tabby cat looking up at him with yellow eyes. "That's Max. My suggestion? Take the other chair. He is very possessive of his territory and doesn't share."

"At least you have an attack cat," Mason said, placing his cap on the table and taking the other chair. "Your Daisy here is too friendly with strangers."

As he spoke, Daisy nuzzled his hand, and Georgie said nothing. She knew Daisy better than anyone... well except for Sam. "Remember Daisy from the Great Gatsby?" she asked as she pulled off her hat, fluffed out her hair, and reached for her espresso/coffee maker from its corner.

"Sure," he said, but he held up a hand. "Oh, no coffee, thanks. A glass of water will be just fine."

"Okay." Georgie pushed the caffeine factory back into its corner and took out a glass while explaining. "Daisy was cute, fragile, the epitome of what men wanted... until they got her. And she was also Gatsby's downfall. My feeling on the character is that Daisy was a graceful moving shark. Sharks will nuzzle you with the gentle swish of the finest silk, tasting you, before..."

Mason smiled and withdrew his hand from Daisy. "Maybe the fault lay in Gatsby."

"Maybe." Georgie smiled as she handed him the glass of water and took the chair across from him. "Thank you for putting in that light bulb."

Daisy quickly sat beside her, and Georgie reached down to run a hand over the dog's dark gray head and short white Schnauzer mustache. "And thank you for coming all the way out here to see me home."

"For a fellow writer? Any time. Thank you for the water," he smiled, taking a drink, "but I have to get going. Work tomorrow." He slipped on his cap. "You going to be okay?"

Daisy got to her feet, alert, standing guard between them, and Georgie patted the furry head. Max too dropped to the floor and sat beside Daisy, both making a wall in front of Georgie.

"I think I'll be fine."

Mason's eyebrows rose and lowered as he adjusted his cap at which Daisy's ears twitched to attention. "Yup, I think you'll be just fine."

Georgie laughed. "Here, I'll let you out the front door." She reached for the gate key and led him through the kitchen into the living room, turning up the thermostat on the way. The drapes were open on the large wall-size window and Portland lay before them in bright lights framed by tall trees at each side.

"That is some sight," Mason said.

"Yes, it is. It's why we bought this house. It was the only lot with that natural break in the trees. No upstairs, no downstairs." The lump was thick in her throat. "Sam and I thought we'd grow old here." She swallowed and undid the chain and dead bolt to open the door.

As they walked to the gate a car came up the road, its headlights flashing across them as it went on by. "Heavy traffic tonight," Georgie said as she unlocked the gate to the chain link fence to let Mason out. She closed the gate and reset the lock.

"Make sure you call in that theft."

"I will. Promise."

He turned to leave then stopped to look over his shoulder at her. "Rain check on that coffee?"

For just a thought, a refusal played on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it. She had done that much too often, and she smiled. "For a fellow writer? Anytime." It came out so easy and painless it surprised her.

He touched the bill of his cap then pointed to the house. "Go on in. I want to hear those locks click."

"Can't hear them way out here, but I get your message. Have a good night. By the way, BADGE 747 is moving along just fine."

"What?"

"Well, I told Jeffrey we were going to go over our writing. Now, it's not a lie." Georgie turned and started for her door.

"You're rationalizing," Mason called back, the gravel crunching beneath each step.

"I know. Good night," she said, entering the house, then made sure she snapped the locks into place as noisily as she could.

From the window, Georgie waved at Mason. He waved back and got in his car. A small cloud of vapor came out the exhaust pipe and Georgie watched as his black 4Runner made the circle and went out the drive. With a smile she started to close the drapes and paused. A car going down the road hit its brakes as it neared her driveway, but didn't turn in. Evidently not all her neighbors were gone yet, she thought, wondering which one could still be around this time of year. Living on a hill, small though it was, they tended to get some snow and ice when lower areas around Portland didn't.

Just as the drapes sealed off Portland her phone rang. The name and number on the lighted caller ID was Cassie's cell phone.

"Yeah, and?"

Georgie laughed. "Hello to you too."

"Did he make sure you got all the way home?"

"How did your delivery go?"

"The world has another male to deal with, strong and kicking, mother doing fine. Daddy almost passed out, but he'll recover. Now, don't change the subject. M&M made sure you got home?"

Georgie tucked the phone between her shoulder and her ear while feeding both Max and Daisy. "Yes he followed me home. Even changed a bulb for me too."

"What?!"

Georgie jerked from the shrilly reply and almost dropped the phone.

"Since when do you need someone to change a light bulb?"

"Since a doctor friend of mine told me, very clearly I might add, that I needed to get back in the game; that I needed the company of the opposite sex... that I..."

"Stop, stop, stop."

Georgie waited. There was no sound. She finally asked, "Are you there?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think you were done tossing my words back at me? God, I hate it when you do that."

Georgie laughed as she rinsed out the empty cans before putting them in the recycling bin, then washed the spoon and her hands.

"Georgie? Can I say something and you not growl at me?"

Georgie thought a moment while drying the spoon and slipping it back into the drawer, then decided to put out a warning of her own. "Depends on what you say, I suppose." As she spoke, Georgie made her way down the lighted hallway to her writing room and turned on her computer. One day she would get a lap top, she thought as she looked out the window at the bright Portland skyline before turning on the light. But as the little lights flickered and bleeped on the computer, she smiled. This old clunker was a gift from her family.

"Then I better not say anything," Cassie said. "I'll wait. I have to get going. I need some sleep." A loud, somewhat overdone, yawn accented the remark.

"Oh, for God's sake, just say it already," Georgie told her, letting the mini-blinds drop into place then rolling the rod between her fingers to close them. "I'm not about to lie awake all night wondering about this."

"Like I really believe you would."

There was a soft sigh at the other end of the line and Georgie felt the warmth of Cassie's ever constant, unconditional friendship.

"I just wanted to say, you sound... happy."

"Happy?"

Chapter five

Georgie brushed her teeth with a vengeance, then looked into the mirror. "Happy. What was that supposed to mean?" she asked. Unlike the fairy tale, Georgie's mirror offered no reply. Cassie had hung up with her traditional, "Hugs, Kiddo," before Georgie could ask for an explanation, not that she'd get one. It was so typically Cassie.

And how was she supposed to sit at her computer and write after that? An hour passed after doing corrections before she finally gave in. Nothing new was coming out. She could barely focus on the typos. Finally, with a sigh of frustration, she tossed up her hands and turned off everything.

What about sleep? Oh yeah, she could see that happening, and decided reading and critiquing might work better this evening.

Daisy whimpered and Georgie smoothed a hand over the Schnauzer's head. "Are you through for the night, Girl? Can I lock your doggie door?" Daisy wagged her tail and Georgie went to the laundry room. When neither Daisy nor Max made a move to go outside, she latched the hooks on the pet-door.

"Let's try and get some sleep, guys," she said, snapped the laundry door deadbolt and went back to her bedroom. Both Daisy and Max followed.

At the threshold, she stopped and turned on the ceiling light. Three years, she thought, and the queen-size bed still looked small in the large master bedroom. But their king-size bed was the first thing she sent out of her life. Its large mass was a nightly reminder of her Sam being gone. There was no place in her life for a king-size bed; not without Sam.

She turned on the lamp on the nightstand, picked up her chapters, and turned off the ceiling light. Tired from the evening's event, she didn't even turn on the TV; simply crawled under the covers. She eased a hand over the pillow beside her and pulled it to her in an embrace. "Oh, Sam," she sighed, and shook her head. Almost three years and she still sought his presence, his essence. Burying her face in the clean linen of the pillow, her thoughts turned to Raggs.

"Why would they take my Raggs?" she asked into the pillow.

Her brow puckered, but no answer came, nor could she find Sam's scent. With a resigning sigh and determination, she stuffed the pillow behind her over her own for support then scooted back snuggly against them and the headboard.

"Okay, Georgie Girl, let's see what the people in class submitted this week." She picked up her red pen and clicked its point into readiness. Five submissions out of a class of twelve, she mused, and calculated in her head who was going to drop out.

Daisy jerked upright from her corner of the bed, her eyes and nose directed toward the curtained window. Max too looked up.

"What?" Georgie tried to listen for whatever had set Daisy on alert.

Daisy's stare was intense while a little growl rolled in her throat. Max's ears twitched like radar dishes.

"Is that a car?" The digital clock displayed eleven forty-five. "Maybe I should have taken that gun April wanted me to have," Georgie said, turning off the lamp then reached under the bed for her indoor Slugger bat.

With the Slugger clutched in her hand, she made her way to the living room with Daisy and Max at her side. There was no sound other than a lonely train whistle resonating its way up from Portland's rail yards. She looked out through the small glass pane in the door.

Nothing.

The outside lights weren't on.

At the large window, she slipped a finger between the drapes to take a peek through the narrow slit. All she saw were the taillights of a car disappearing down the road. There was no way of telling if they had come from up the road or... out of her own driveway. No. The motion detectors would have activated the porch light and those along her drive.

Daisy's nose nudged her a second before her tail began its excited wagging.

"You know, you and Max are going to give me a heart attack. Where would you be then, with no one to feed you?" Georgie said, and made her way back down the hallway. Max and Daisy settled into their favorite corner of the bed, Max quickly tucking his head into his fur.

After sliding the bat under the bed, Georgie flicked on her electric blanket, and once more took pen in hand. Reading through the pages, her attention kept returning to the window, until she heard the soft snoring coming from Daisy and Max.

~~0~~

Georgie woke with a start to the buzz, buzz, buzz of the clock. Her lamp was still on, pen near her hand, and the chapters on her lap. She hit the clock to stop its noise and stacked the unread work on the empty side of the bed.

"You guys could've at least turned off the light," she said to Daisy and Max as she tossed aside the blankets and swung her feet over the side. After turning off the electric blanket, she slowly reached for the ceiling; first on her toes, then tilted to the left, to the right, taking the kinks out of her back then her neck. "Not the best way to fall asleep, let me tell you."

But Daisy was already down the hallway while Max just stretched and rolled, his mouth opening wide in a yawn showing all his teeth and cavernous throat. A low bark called to Georgie and she made her way to the laundry room where Daisy waited at the locked door.

"Yeah, I'm get'n there, I'm get'n there." She turned the lock and opened the door. Her toes curled, trying to get away from the cold linoleum laundry room floor.

With toenails clicking across the floor, Daisy ran to the locked doggie door. Georgie flipped the little hooks and the Schnauzer darted out. With a yawn of her own, Georgie slipped into her outdoor slippers, tied the sash to her robe, and took out a plastic bag from its box.

The crisp morning air felt good on her face. It wouldn't be long before dew would cover the grass and plants, with frost not far beyond that. She would have to dig out her hooded winter robe and waterproof fur slippers.

"Daisy, where did you go?" As she spoke, Georgie scooped up droppings from the day and night before.

Daisy came around the corner of the house barking excitedly, then sniffed at the ground as she followed her nose to the left rear corner of the fenced yard. She barked into the trees, then sniffed her way back to the side of the house.

"Okay, girl, get it done and let's close out this chapter. I have a job to get to."

Finally, Georgie tossed the Daisy-poop-filled plastic bag into the trashcan. "What's this?" It was the tip of an impression in the soft earth around the container. Tugging at the collar of her robe, she looked to the still locked side gate, up into the trees and brush, then back down at the indentation. She bent for a closer look. Was that a shoe print? Looked like one, she thought, then straightened to put the tip of her slipper down. The dirt was soft, and the print almost a fit. Of course. She must have stepped there when she put back the trashcan yesterday morning after the trash was picked up the day before. Her other footprint was lost in the grass.

"Duh, Georgie," she murmured to herself.

The phone rang in the house and she rushed back in, Daisy beating her to the door.

"Hey, Mom. Good morning."

"Steven. You're up early."

"Yeah. Early class in autopsy."

"Okay." She winced with a shudder. "That's more than I wanted to hear this morning."

"Is this the same mother who wanted to witness my toenail extraction, then pouted when the doctor nixed the idea?"

"No. She moved away, and left no forwarding address, smart woman."

"One day, I will be the winner in these morning calls," he said, then laughed.

"I have my dreams too, young grasshopper. What's up?" His laughter both stabbed and warmed her. It was a gentle echo of his dad's ever-present humor.

"Just wanted to know if you were up to cutting my hair this weekend."

Georgie held her answer and looked down at Daisy.

"Mom?"

"Have I ever said no?"

"No. But, Mom, you could have a date or something..."

"What time were you thinking of coming out?" She didn't want to let Steven get into his it's time to get out more, mom, speech.

"I thought I could be your last appointment on Saturday, and we could go out to dinner. Ask Mr. and Mrs. Clarence Darrow if they want to come too."

"Would you like it if Paula and Ryan called you Doctor Green?" she asked, referring to the character on the ER TV series.

"They probably do call me that, but Green has no hair, where as I do, and it needs cutting."

"I'll call Paula and Ryan. Let's make it a stay-at-home dinner."

"Even better," he said.

She half sighed and yawned. Remembering him always being the last one to rise and fighting it all the way, she wondered where he suddenly got all this early morning vivacity, but thought it best not to ask. "I have to get in the shower and get to work."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't think I didn't notice you changed the subject. You should get out more, I know a couple of doctors that think you're a hottie..."

"Have a good day poking around inside some poor soul," she said, hung up, then looked down at Daisy with a smile. "You got'ta love him. Wonder what's up with him? He sounded very energetic for so early in the morning."

She was blessed with two wonderful kids, but while Steven felt it was time for her to have someone in her life, he openly said he had neither the time nor room for a girl in his busy schedule. Now, Paula was a different book all together. Paula talked a good game, but Georgie wasn't sure how Daddy's little girl would feel if a man actually did enter her mother's life. Paula's lawyer face gave no clues. Ryan Sheldon was Paula's Sam, and Georgie couldn't ask for more in a son-in-law.

When both Daisy and Max followed her down the hall, Georgie played her morning game with them and rushed to the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and left them on the other side. "I'm taking a shower alone guys," she called through the door.

It was only seconds before Daisy's whimpering started and Max began poking his paw beneath the door, Georgie laughed and called out, "Go lie down somewhere."

The pitiful noise stopped and the paw disappeared.

~~0~~

After parking her car in the Western Shopping Center, Georgie waived her morning espresso from the Center's Cup Java Espresso House and went directly to the shop. With a heavy heart, she turned the key at her Dare To Care Salon. The moment she entered, her eyes darted to where Raggs always sat waiting to greet her. The glass shelves filled with hair products looked empty without her Raggs sitting there. When did Raggs leave the house and come to be the salon mascot, she thought, and reached to touch a hand on the empty place, but stopped. Best not, she thought. What if the police decided to dust for fingerprints? Well, that's foolish. Even if the police thought the theft worthy of dusting for prints, Emmee and Brandy must have touched the spot.

She pulled out the reception desk barstool and looked underneath, between the desk and wall, then made her way to the back of the shop. When she reached the circuit breaker box, she flipped on the lights, upped the thermostat for the day, and continued looking around as she slowly made her way back to the front. The bright morning sun glaring off the polished linoleum floor made her squint.

The flashing digital light on the answering machine indicated five new messages. Georgie listened, taking down the names and numbers for return calls until the fourth message came on. There was no voice.

"Drive-by hang up. I should get a new machine with an ID indicator," Georgie murmured, knowing she wouldn't do it until this one went belly-up, and listened to the last message. If it wasn't for Steven and Paula, she would still have her old answering machine at home. "It's a safety factor, mom," they said.

"George, this is Mason. Just wanted to remind you to call in that theft. If you don't, I'll haunt you till you do. I can be a nag. Trust me, you don't want that."

A smile tugged at her lips while a rush of blood sent heat across her cheeks. That's what she needed... hot flashes to start. Did menopause start at forty-two? The thought of growing old had never bothered her, but this time, the thought stung, yet she forced herself to admit, okay touching forty-three.

"Oooh, who was that?"

Georgie jumped, bolting back. "Emmee! Dammit! You scared me." She had been so wrapped up in Raggs, she had completely forgotten to lock the door behind her when she came in. That was her normal procedure; come in, lock the door until one of the girl's came in or her first customer arrived.

"Oh, gee. I'm sorry. I thought you saw me and unlocked the door." Emmee looked up at the door. "Oh, no. Our door chime. It's gone."

My attention must have really been tunneled, Georgie thought. She hadn't even noticed the chime was missing.

"Guess what I found in the parking lot?" Brandy's impish voice asked. She was standing there, door open, rolling a golden object between her fingers, then held it up. It was the shop's little door chime.

"How the heck did it get out there?" Emmee asked.

How indeed Georgie wondered, holding out her hand. Brandy dropped the small chime into her palm. Funny how something so small could feel so heavy, she thought, curled her fingers around it, then looked up. The little thing had hung on the doorframe since the Western Shopping Center was built and Dare To Care Salon moved into the unit. Not in all that time had it ever dropped off, let alone rolled out into the parking lot.

"That's why we never heard a thing when they came in and took Raggs," Emmee said.

Georgie nodded. The reason she installed the little chime was they couldn't see the door from the back bar shampoo bowls. Plumbing-wise, the bowls were in the best location, but other than their supply room, the shampoo bowl area was the blind spot in the L shaped beauty salon.

Georgie opened the door and placed herself between the metal frame and the glass. The top of the door was about three inches from tipping the chime holder that would normally send out the "customer-entering" alert.

"Whoever it was could have taken off the chime, slipped in, grabbed Raggs, and out the door they went," Georgie theorized, more to herself than the two girls.

"That would mean." Emmee swallowed hard, her brown eyes wide and darker in shade. "Whoever it was, must have been watching, waiting, until both Brandy and I were in the back."

"Had to have been someone tall," Georgie said, standing on her toes to reach up. She came nowhere near being able to reach the chime holder.

"Will you listen to yourselves," Brandy said, hands waving at the absurdity of it. "Why would anyone go through so much trouble just to take a Raggedy Ann Doll? Why? I think the bell fell off and it landed outside. It got kicked around. That's all." Brandy slipped into her cobbler apron uniform top and flipped out her long luminous wine colored hair from under the apron so it fell loosely about her shoulders and down her back. "Someone came in afterwards," she reasoned while snapping the side tabs, "saw Raggs sitting there, and took her. That's all. She's probably in the arms of a little girl right now."

"Brandy, will you please shut up," Emmee snapped, putting her long, neatly manicured, fingertips at her temples while closing her eyes in a plea. "Just zip it."

"Stop, stop," Georgie said. "The both of you. Stop."

"Oh, Georgie, I'm sorry," Brandy said, reaching for her, but Georgie waved at her that it was fine and she understood. "I didn't mean to be insensitive. I know how much you love the little thing."

"It's fine." Georgie knew that to most Raggs was just a rag doll.

"God, Brandy, can you just stuff a towel in it!" Emmee hissed under her breath while handing Georgie an apron top then shook out her own to put it on. "But I do think that Mason fellow on the answering machine has a point. You should call the police on this."

"It can't hurt," Brandy added, then shot Emmee a puzzled raised eyebrow. "What fellow?"

Emmee shook her head and Georgie sighed deeply. Perhaps they were right, she thought and said, "One Amber Alert coming up for a Raggedy Ann doll." She shivered in the still cool shop and flipped on the neon OPEN sign. It took another deep breath before she could pick up the phone.

After being switched from this department to that department, being put on hold, then transferred from this officer to another officer, Georgie finally said, "Actually, the doll was a collector's item. Yes, a classic, personally signed by the maker, and worth more than a few thousand dollars." There was a pause. "You will? Thank you." And with a smile to the girls, she hung up. "They're sending out an officer to get all the details."

"A collector's item?" Brandy asked. "Your Raggs was a collector's item?"

Georgie raised her chin and narrowed her focus. "I have a few Raggedy Ann Dolls. So that would make me a collector, right?" It wasn't a question, but a dare for Brandy to deny the remark.

"I would say so," Emmee agreed, pulling at her spiky blonde hair while spritzing it as she looked in the mirror.

"Personally signed by the maker?" Brandy countered.

Georgie pointed at Brandy. "My mother made Raggs for me and embroidered her name on it in case I lost her at the hospital. They'd know who she belonged to."

"There you go," Emmee said with her traditional flip of her hands.

"Okay, okay," Brandy relented, then asked, "But what about it being worth thousands? Huh?"

Georgie arched an eyebrow and stared hard at the younger of her two stylists as she handed Brandy the slip of paper with the names and phone numbers of the persons wanting an appointment with her. "Are you saying you don't think Raggs is worth thousands to me?"

The young stylist's blue eyes dilated to the size of silver dollars, and faded almost to that shade, as she looked to Emmee then back. She took a deep breath and smiled wide with beautiful teeth.

"Millions, Boss Lady, millions." She back-stepped her way to her styling station. "Yes, ma'am, worth millions."

Emmee grinned, but held back a snicker as she shook her head, fear gone from her eyes, and took her messages from Georgie. She pushed the ON button to the shop radio. "Oh, oh. Here comes Jeffrey. I forgot to tell you. He's your first appointment."

"Oh, my God," Georgie said, "you're kidding. I'm surprised he came. I thought he'd be mad."

"Why?"

"Long story," Georgie said, and let her lips pull back into a big smile and turned at the opening door. "Good morning, Jeffrey."

"Hi," Jeffrey murmured, eyes casting to the ceiling, the girls, then settling on the floor; everywhere but directly at Georgie.

Georgie leaned down just a little, seeking her normal face to face interaction with a client. "Come on back."

"I was afraid Emmee made the appointment too early for you," he finally said, sitting in her hydraulic chair at the back end of the shop. "You know, so early after your class last night."

Georgie wrapped a neck strip around Jeffrey's neck and unfolded her haircutting cape with a quick flap before draping it around him. "Is that going to be too tight?"

"Just a little," he said, putting his finger at the neck giving it a tug.

"Sorry." She unsnapped and redid the snaps on the cape. Jeffrey not being very tall, she gave the hydraulic two pumps. "I didn't want to get hair down your neck."

Running her fingers through his fine sand colored hair, she wondered what he would do if she accidentally gave him a high and tight hair cut? Military short. Wicked, wicked thoughts are not good, Georgie, she scolded herself, and water-spritzed his hair before picking up her scissors and comb. For the last twenty years, styles coming and going, Jeffrey always took a two and half finger's width length cut on the sides and back, and longer on top. She could do it blind folded.

"Was your class good last night?" Jeffrey asked.

And the scissors took their bite out of Georgie. She quickly grabbed a neck strip and put it tightly around her finger. "Band aid needed here," she called out, holding her hand up to minimize the bleeding. "The finger's still attached, but I do need that band aid."

Jeffrey turned pale and Georgie remembered his fear of blood. "I'm joking, Jeffrey. See? It's already stopped bleeding." The thin line of blood began to show and knowing the cut was deep enough to give a good bleed, Georgie quickly spun away and went into the supply room. Emmee was quick. They washed out the cut and Georgie braced herself before soaking the finger in antiseptic. After a quick dry while holding the finger high, they wrapped the band aid around it.

"Don't you laugh," she warned Emmee in a low whisper. "Not one snicker. You hear?"

"Only if you promise to tell me what happened last night."

"Nothing happened!" she hissed.

Emmee gave a sharp turn and laughed outright as she went to the front of the shop where her appointment waited.

"Good morning, Ben," Emmee greeted him with a voice bubbling with innocence. "I'm ready for you. Just had to do a medical repair on the Boss Lady."

One day I'm going to fire her, Georgie swore, and let a smile mask her face before turning to her own distressed client. "Okay, Jeffrey. See? All better."

Georgie never had a hair cut take this long, even with a band aid on, but she was grateful Jeffrey dropped the questions about her writing class. His next subject, no doubt, would have been Mason. After doing a quick sweep around the chair to keep hair from sticking to Jeffrey's shoes, they went to the shampoo bowl to wash out any loose clippings from his hair. She then towel dried his hair, followed with a quick use of the blow-dryer.

"There you go," she said, after smoothing in the hair gel and pulling off the drape. "All set for the day."

"About my actions last night..." he started to say, his green eyes still avoiding hers.

"Georgie," Brandy called from the front desk.

Georgie looked up and squinted at the sun-glare off the linoleum floor surface.

At first, with the morning sun coming in through the windows behind him, all Georgie could see was a man's tall silhouette. It wasn't until he turned slightly and she saw the outline of all the paraphernalia on his belt that she realized what she was looking at.

It was a police officer.

Chapter Six

"Georgina?"

"What?" Georgie answered Jeffrey, but her attention was on the officer now moving in their direction. There was something familiar about the tall form, that long easy stride.

Whispers spread through the waiting clientele, and those already being worked on, as they turned to get a good look at the rare happening... a police officer in Dare To Care Salon. There had never been an occasion warranting the services of a police officer on duty.

"I'll see you later," Jeffrey said, handing her a twenty and a five instead of writing his usual check, but Jeffrey's words were far away murmurs as the officer came closer, past the glare of the morning sun behind him.

It was Mason.

If she thought he looked good in a blue turtleneck sweater and leather jacket last night, seeing him in full dress black uniform complete with weaponry... she bit her lower lip to keep her mouth from dropping open. No one had the right to look that good.

"Is that..."

"Yes, it is," Georgie told Jeffrey.

"Miss Georgina Gainsworth?" Mason said, opening his little notebook. "I'm Officer Montgomery. I understand you had a theft last night."

"What?" Jeffrey stared at her. "Georgina!"

"Jeffrey, calm down," she said, somewhat taken back by Mason's formality, yet respecting it. As he said, he was a police officer on duty, not M&M, nor BADGE 747 from her writing class.

The whispers among the clientele were now loud murmurs. Georgie could see both Emmee and Brandy trying to explain to their clients while working on their hair, yet not wanting to miss what was going on.

"When?" Jeffrey asked. "How much did they take?" When she didn't answer, his voice rose. "Georgina?"

"Jeffrey, please!" Once he stopped to take a breath, Georgie said, "Raggs was taken..."

"Raggs? That old thing? Why would anyone take that?"

"Jeffrey, be quiet!" Now she was embarrassed and pressed her hand to her forehead. It wasn't often she lost control at work. Why did she have to lose it now, in front of Mason... Officer Montgomery?

"Maybe I should go then..." Jeffrey offered.

"No. Just be quiet a moment," Georgie said, putting a hand to his arm in apology. A deep breath helped clear her head. "That old thing was mine," she managed to say, her voice now calm. "And if I knew why someone would take her, I'd know who took her."

She finally looked up into Mason's face and found his gray eyes on her. Their gray hue was more to the blue this morning. Perhaps it was the black uniform.

"It happened last night," she said, "after I left for my writing class."

"But I was here last night," Jeffrey explained, "and Raggs was here, wasn't she?"

"And your name?" Mason asked.

"I'm sure you know my name," Jeffrey said through clenched teeth.

Georgie was shocked not only at Jeffrey's terse remark, but also at the blatant visual sweep he was giving Mason. All words died in her throat. All she could do was stare. This was a side of Jeffrey she couldn't remember ever seeing.

"If you please, for the record, sir," Mason said. "I need your name?"

"I'm Jeffrey Sanders, Mrs. Gainsworth's accountant, client, and very close friend."

"And your address?"

"What for?"

"For my report," Mason said, and the patience in his tone was worthy.

Georgie just wanted the floor to open up so she could dive in. Oh, Sam, why aren't you here to fix all this? Then thought, no. She leaned on Sam for twenty years. It was time to let him rest.

"I need your address in case we need to talk to you," Mason said, his face showing no emotion, but Georgie thought there was a hint of humor somewhere behind his set mouth. "You know, incase we need to verify the time," he added.

"My office is right here in The Center, four units over. Sanders Accounting. You can find me there any day of the week. My home address is in the phone book. I have to go open my office."

Jeffrey turned to her with a hand on her shoulder. "I didn't take Raggs, Georgina. She must have still been here when I left, I'm sure."

Even knowing how he felt about her and certain he had not taken Raggs, Georgie still struggled with the urge to pull her shoulder clear of his touch. Georgie wanted to tell him she knew he hadn't, but his remark about that old thing went deep. The door chime pinged and they all looked to the front of the shop. She wondered who had put it back up.

Jeffrey left them and was walking out while another officer stood at the reception desk. The officer stared after Jeffrey now out the door, fixing his tie and looking back through the window.

To Georgie, surprise was the word for the moment. "Wow," she murmured. "Never thought Raggs would rate two police officers."

"That's my partner, Officer Clark," Mason said. "I asked her to interview your business neighbors who were open late last night to see if they had any problems or saw anything out of the ordinary."

"That's your partner?" Georgie asked, saw Mason's brow twitch, obviously taken back by her question, but before he could say anything more, Officer Clark, arrived with a wide smile and extended her hand.

Georgie met the gesture. "Tonie, right?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am, Tonie Clark. Told you you'd see me again," Officer Clark said. "Only I didn't think it would be this soon nor under these circumstances."

Mason cleared his throat, and Tonie let go of her hand, tilting her head at him with a subtle roll of her eyes. "Georgie, I mean Ms. Gainsworth, cut my hair last night."

"Really?" Mason asked.

"Yes. Really," Tonie said.

"Then you were here too?" Mason asked.

"Well, not that you'd ever notice, but I was here getting my hair cut. Then I left. Ms. Gainsworth was going out the door too."

There was something in Mason's tone, but Georgie couldn't place a name to it. Was it interest? Surprise maybe? Wow, she thought. Maybe it was true what they say; that a partner in the line of dangerous duty like police work was almost as close, if not closer than, a spouse. A couple? Suddenly, Georgie didn't want to talk to them anymore. Raggs was gone and she wanted her back. That was all. She wanted her Raggs back.

"I wished I hadn't gone to class," Georgie said.

"Did anyone else see anything out of the ordinary," Mason asked Tonie.

Tonie shook her head. The friendliness slipped away and Georgie saw the professional take over. Flipping through and reading the pages in her little notebook, Tonie said, "They saw nothing they don't see every night. They did say they could adjust their clocks by Ms. Gainsworth's comings and goings." She pointed at Georgie. "Which is not a good idea, having a predictable schedule like that."

"Okay. That's all for now," Mason said to Tonie. "We'll check out the whole area, up and down the street. I'll go over some more details with Ms. Gainsworth and be out in a minute."

"Yes, sir." Tonie removed her hat, ran her fingers through her hair and gave Georgie a thumbs-up. "Just what I wanted. Thanks. Hope we can find your property or that it shows up safe and sound." She adjusted her hat back into place and went out.

For the longest time, Georgie looked to the departing officer. When the quiet of the moment became a third presence, she looked up at Mason and nearly blushed at being caught staring. "I was just thinking."

"What?"

"Just that it's tragic enough when a police officer is taken down, but when it's a woman?" She shook her head. "Yet I can't deny her the right to do the job. I should write a book about it."

"If anyone can do it justice, it would be you."

"And you." Georgie felt the eyes of those around them, and it was a struggle to keep from reacting to Mason's steady gaze and that of others who might be taking note of all this.

"So show me where Raggs normally sits and where the girls were when they think the theft might have taken place." He leaned down and whispered. "And please, I reeeeally want to know why she's worth thousands?"

"Because I said so, and because I was being ignored until I mentioned the M word."

"The M word?"

"Money," she whispered, then raised her voice. "This way, Officer Montgomery. The girls were back here at the shampoo bowls, while Raggs normally sits up here."

As they walked to the front, Georgie held her hands out to the girls and customers. "Yes, I was robbed. No, it was not money. I wished they had taken the money. I would just charge you all more and get it back that way."

They laughed and someone even said, "No doubt."

"But they took Raggs," Georgie said, and she heard a hushed gasp.

"What? Someone took my girl?" a male voice said, and Georgie turned.

And there he stood; Hawaiian shirt and cargo short pants. In autumn.

"Nick! When did you..."

"Flew in late yesterday."

"Nick if you took her..." But in truth, Georgie was hoping he'd laugh, say he was sorry, and hand over Raggs. But he did neither.

"Oh, Georgie Girl," he said, his arms wrapping around her, then slid a caring hand over her hair, which he knew she hated, and she swatted away the offending appendage.

"Raggs is my girl," he added, with a finger beneath her chin, tipping it up so she could do nothing else but look into in his playful brown eyes. "But I wouldn't kidnap her."

"And you would be?" Mason asked.

"Me? Why, I'm the love of my Georgie Girl's life. I'm... I'm..." he muttered while making a rolling motion with his hand, over acting the search for another word.

A subtle laughter rumbled through the shop.

"Nick, please," Georgie begged.

"Georgie Girl and I bonded when she gave me a bloody nose in kindergarten..."

Georgie held up her hand and fought her way free of his arms. "Nick, not the kindergarten story, please."

"Okay. Delete that. The moment I saw that moving van drive up at the house next door, and saw this brown haired girl," he said, giving her hair a quick tug, "with those hazel eyes, come out of the car behind the van? I knew it was trouble."

Georgie swatted off his hand and shrugged out of his hold to go behind her desk. She sat on its tall stool and dropped her head on her arms on the appointment book.

"Georgina?" a soft voice came through Nick's never ending tirade. "Are you ready for me?"

Georgie's head snapped up. She took a quick look at her book and jumped from the stool. "Mrs. Stewart! Oh jeez, I'm so sorry. Please, go on back. I'll be right there. I just have to finish this here."

As Mrs. Stewart went by Nick, she stopped and, though she was shorter, looked up at him eye to eye. "Nicholas Underwood, you are still a little... what is it you call him, Georgina? Oh yes. You are still a little shit."

"Yes, Ma'am. I am."

"I don't know how Georgina has put up with you all these years."

"Nor do I, Mrs. Stewart."

As the retired schoolteacher spoke, her hands worked the handle of her walking stick, giving the impression she was considering using it as a club. "Now, tell the Officer what he wants to know so Georgina can get on with my perm, and let me tell you... if my perm comes out bad, not even Georgina will save you."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Before Mrs. Stewart started to the back of the shop, she turned to Mason. "And you make certain you earn your pay and find Raggs. Georgina's lost enough in her life."

"That I will do," Mason answered with the tip of his finger to the brim of his hat.

Georgie swallowed back the rising emotion, and cleared her throat. She'd forgotten it was Mrs. Stewart who sent for the pattern of Raggedy Ann for her mother, and it was Mrs. Stewart who shopped for the dress material and just the right color of yarn for Raggs' hair.

"Raggs sat here," Georgie told Mason.

As she watched, Mason stood at the door, looked to the back of the shop, then slowly moved in. He's gauging just how far the thief had to enter to reach Raggs, Georgie thought.

"As you can see," Georgie said. "It's almost a total blind spot from the shampoo bar. That's why our money drawer is locked when we're all back there. We each have a key."

When the chime pinged, it didn't take much to read the change in Mason's face and she explained where they had found the chime. Nick too lost his impish humor, and though he tried to hide it, his eyes met Mason's, but neither said a word.

"The girls and I thought the same thing," Georgie said, letting them know their secret was hardly that. "Whoever it was must have been watching and waiting for the right moment. I just don't understand, why? No money taken. Just Raggs?"

Neither man said anything while Mason wrote in his notebook, then looked at Nick.

"Mr. Underwood, when I run you through the system, will we find anything we shouldn't? It's best you tell me now before I make my report."

"Actually, you'll find my name nowhere," Nick started out before Georgie could stop him. He ran his fingers through his shaggy blond hair, gave her a glance, then looked to Mason. "I don't exist, you know."

"What?" Mason let his sight slid to Georgie. When she shook her head, waved a hand, and closed her eyes that she'd heard this far too many times before, he turned his attention back to Nick.

"I think my parents were, you know, one of THE spooks." Nick said.

Mason drew in a deep noisy breath. "THE spooks."

Nick leaned toward him as though to share a great secret. "You know," he whispered, deep furrows forming between his brows. "Black SUVs? C I A spooks." Nick stressed each of the letters in the acronym for Mason to pick up on it. "Protective custody and all that?" He spread his hands to wipe away the murmur, "The never-were." "Stop. You need to stop," Georgie told Nick. "Can you please be serious here. Can you?" She gave Mason in a silent please be patient with him plea. "Let me know if you need me to sign anything. I have to go start my perm." She walked past Nick with only a hopeless stare through narrowed eyes.

"What?" Nick asked with that perfected innocence. "It's true. Georgie Girl, you know it's true."

Georgie waved a dismissing hand.

Chapter seven

"Will you please stop?" Georgie begged Emmee, at the end of the day.

"Are you telling me Officer Montgomery wasn't someone you'd want to wake up next to? Or... better yet..."

"Emmee, I'm warning you. Stop this... this... whatever this is you're trying to do."

"Getting you a guy and all the bennies that come with it is what I'm trying to do here, Boss Lady."

Georgie threw a damp towel at Emmee, but the stylist easily caught it before it hit her face and tossed it in the salon washer. "Let's get this place ready to go in the morning," she told Emmee, then bit her lower lip, knowing she'd have hell to pay when Emmee and Brandy found out Officer Montgomery was in her writing class and had already been to her house. "I, for one, am tired and ready to go home."

"You can't deny he looked mighty fine in that uniform," Emmee went on, totally into her playful taunting. "And that gun." Emmee formed a perfect 0 with her lips and rolled her eyes. When she got in this mood, those eyes resembled amber glass in the sun. "Oh, my." She fanned her face, and this time, Georgie hit her target with another throw of a damp towel.

"Don't damage the make-up," Emmee laughed.

"I like Nick," Brandy said, with a pout, arms crossed beneath her small breasts as she leaned on the doorless threshold of the supply room watching them.

"You would," Emmee said, spreading detergent over the towels in the washer and closing the lid. "Towels set and ready to go in the morning."

"Doesn't Nick have the cutest legs?" Brandy asked, not really expecting an answer. Again, Emmee rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

"All right," Georgie said, before they started their usual banter. "Get your things and head for the front door. I'll get the lights. Make sure the main cord on your curling iron outlet strip is unplugged. I already unplugged the TV."

"You are such a worrywart," Emmee said. "Won't leave the washer on so the towels are ready to dry in the morning. Safety features on all the outlets, but we have to unplug them."

"Yeah, yeah. Just unplug them, okay?." Georgie put on her coat, knitted scarf and cap as she waited for the girls to get to the front. The safety light gave her clear vision to make her way through the shop. After locking and giving the door a tug, they dodged their way through the still busy parking lot to their vehicles. With the Cup Java Espresso House and Total Attire Center, a clothier, both open till 10:00; The Land & Sea Restaurant, open till 2:00am; Pacific Banking and their ATM; the Here For The Buyer all night grocery store, there was always traffic in the parking lot.

The evening wind swatted at Georgie and her two stylists. Brandy's hair billowed into medusa-like swirls, and Georgie pulled up her coat collar to snug-up her neck scarf to keep out the chill.

"Look at how dark it is," Brandy said. "It's not even waiting for the end of daylight saving time."

"It is after seven," Georgie said. "I'm going to move my car closer to The Buyer and get some groceries."

"Oh, oh," Emmee said, her voice light and overly playful, then smiled to sing-song, "Someone has a boyfriend."

The biting cold wind made Georgie blink as she looked to where Emmee pointed. Tucked beneath the Subaru windshield wiper was a single red rose. While her first thought leaped to Mason, she didn't think it was something he would do, nor was there reason for him to do it. Jeffrey in apology? Hmm. Could be. Nick humbly throwing himself face down spread-eagle in apology? A tingle tugged at the corners of her mouth. Oh, yeah, she could see that, wanted to see it, and half-laughed. "Has to be Nick."

"That's so romantic," Brandy said. "I told you I liked him."

"The man's a lunatic," Emmee told Brandy.

"You're too harsh on him." Even in the dark, Georgie could see Brandy's lip push out in a pout as she took out her car keys. "He's just so... so... Nick."

Georgie actually heard a deep sigh come from the young girl. Nope. She did not want to be that young again, and bit her lip to keep from smiling.

"Oh, spare me, puuulease," Emmee said, also unlocking her car door.

"Everyone should have a Nick in their life," Georgie said, and smelled the rose before pressing her keys and beeping-open her car locks. "I just wish it had been him that took Raggs. He would have brought her back by now."

"They'll find her, Boss Lady."

They all turned as the dark car bearing a circle of letters that read, Instant Reply Security, drove by slowly. "Where were they when we needed them?" Emmee asked, not expecting an answer, "And I hate those tinted windows. Can't see a damn thing." She audibly shuddered. "Gives me the creeps"

"I think that's the idea. Good night, guys. See you in the morning." Georgie tossed the rose onto the passenger seat and slid in.

"Night, Boss," both girls said, the closing doors sealing the goodbyes.

~~0~~

By the time Georgie bought her groceries and drove up her driveway into her yard, it was almost nine o'clock, and there was a motorcycle leaning at the corner of her garage where it met the chain link fence. She knew no one with a motorcycle, and looked around for Daisy. It took a moment before the Schnauzer came around the house barking and bounding. Though Daisy wasn't growling, Georgie reached behind the seat for her bat just the same. Holding it firm and low, she opened her car door and got out of the car.

"What the hell are you doing getting out of your car?"

Georgie spun around with the bat ready to swing before she recognized the voice and saw it was Nick. He was now minus the tropical wear and clothed appropriately for motorcycle riding. "Dammit! I ought to bash you a good one for scaring me like that!"

"Answer my question," he demanded. "You see a strange motorcycle in your yard. You have no fucking clue who it belongs to, and you get out of your car? Jeez, Georgie Girl. Goddamn it!"

"You want to try and take my bat? Huh?"

"Don't think I couldn't do it. I just don't want another bloody nose." He motioned for her to put her car in the garage.

She waited just long enough to show him she would do it in her own good time, not because he told her to. It took several deep breaths to calm both her temper and her racing heart. She put the slugger behind the seat and drove the car in.

"You want to bring in your motorcycle?" she asked, once out of the car, and handing him two bags of groceries.

"It's fine where it is." With both arms loaded, he headed for the door leading to the kitchen. "What's for dinner?"

"Nothing," she said, before flicking the remote. The garage door began its slide back down. "It's too late to eat." She unlocked her kitchen door and pushed it open.

"What do you mean too late? Hey, hey, call her off! She's killing me with love."

Daisy was all over Nick, whining for love and wagging her tail. Georgie put down the bags she was carrying. "Daisy, stop. Down, girl, sit."

Once the Schnauzer sat, Georgie told her to go lie down, but Daisy kept her eyes on Nick. Georgie frowned at her dog. Nick set down his burden and jerked his head at Daisy. Daisy immediately went to the table near Max and curled up.

"You would do well to remember who feeds you," Georgie said to Daisy, "Cause doggie, let me tell you. I ain't no Gatsby. Man's best friend indeed." She then gave Nick a cutting side glance.

Nick shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a loveable guy."

"Uh huh," was all Georgie offered as she put the perishables away in the fridge and some in the freezer. "Oh, by the way. Thank you for the rose," she said.

"What rose?"

She pointed to the rose she had set on the counter.

"Oh, that rose."

"You made points with the girls," she said, getting out a small vase and putting the flower in it. She put her hands to her chin and batted her lashes to mimic Brandy. "Oh, that's so romantic leaving it on the windshield like that. Brandy could be yours in a sigh, which she did do, by the way." This time, she did laugh. "And Lord, what a sigh it was."

"Yeah, okay, moving on here. Are you really not going to feed me?" he asked, toying with the rose.

His face was so set, Georgie poked his arm. "If you're going to pout I'll make you a salad and bread. I'd add wine to that, but I don't want you drunk on that thing out there."

"Oh, yeah, I could see one glass putting me under." He took off his leather jacket and slipped it over the back of the chair.

"Nevertheless."

He waved her off. "Just one glass."

As she cut up the salad, the fresh scent of the greens stirred her dormant hunger, and she made herself a bowl too.

"Obviously you don't eat much, the way you've lost weight. So why so many groceries? You expecting company?"

"I have not lost weight," she countered.

"No, but wasn't it nice of me to say it?"

"You are such an ass. The kids are coming out this weekend and I thought we'd make dinner instead of going out. Want to come? But you have to behave."

"What would be the fun in that? They wouldn't know who I was if I did that."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... go wash up," she told him.

Minutes later, the toasting French bread sent out its baked aroma, though it didn't compare to Sam's home made bread, Georgie thought. She pulled it from the oven, put the bowls on the table, and opened a bottle to pour them each a glass, her smile hidden.

With a wide grin of appreciation, Nick picked up the glass and drank. As soon as it went in his mouth he stopped, half choked, and there was a loud strained gulping swallow. Georgie laughed as he glared.

"What the hell was that?"

"That was for scaring me out there," she said. "And it's called Sparkling Cider, non-alcoholic. I keep it for Paula. She's pregnant, you know."

"You could've warned me, and no, I didn't know." He stabbed at his salad and forced the lettuce into his mouth.

"As Sam would say, that's what you get for not taking the time to savor the bouquet." Georgie waved the glass under her nose before drinking, and started in on her salad. It tasted good. "You know," she said between bites and pointing a finger at Nick, "If you tried sales around here instead of doing so much traveling to God-knows-where, you'd know Paula's almost three months along."

"Glad to hear it. So tell me about Raggs," he said.

The deep sigh weighed heavy in her chest, the dinner now tasteless. "Not much to tell. Just like I told Mas... Officer Montgomery. Emmee and Brandy said one moment Raggs was there, then she was gone." She looked down at her bowl, played with its contents, but didn't eat.

"Whoa, whoa, back up. What did you call Dudley Do-Right?"

"Dudley Do-Right? Oh. You mean Officer Montgomery." Georgie took her bowl to the sink to avoid Nick's scrutinizing eyes he was leveling on her. The rejected greens were sent down the disposal and she ran some dish soap over her sponge.

"Noooo, you were going to call him something else," he said, dropping the fork in his empty bowl and getting up. He placed them next to hers and took out a dishtowel to dry what she washed. "Come on, out with it."

She shrugged. "His name is Mason Montgomery."

"Okay. What are you leaving out?"

"He's in my writing class," she finally said, keeping her eyes set on the cookie sheet she was washing.

"Aaah. So your little plot thickens here. How fortunate it was that they sent him out to investigate Raggs' kidnapping."

"I'd be very grateful if you didn't mention him being in my class to either of the girls at the shop, or the kids," she said, taking another drink to empty her glass, then scrunched up her face. "Ugh, this does lack, doesn't it?"

"So is Officer Montgomery the reason that Little Ol' Jeffrey was so testy?"

"God, who knows. I sure don't," she said, washing the empty glass. Nick dried it then put it in the cupboard.

"I wish I'd never consented to those two dinners with him." As she spoke, she watched Nick slowly turn the vase holding the rose.

"You actually went out on two for-real dates?"

"Oh stop. I swear, you and Cassie. They weren't dates. Just stuff to do with the shop books. You know tax stuff. I didn't think he'd take them as anything more."

"That was silly of you," he said, pushed the vase back into the corner then leaned against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, his long legs also crossed.

"Yeah, the older I get the more I learn." She finished folding the last of the paper bags and put them next to the recycling bins. "You want to come sit for a while?"

"No. I have to get going. What about Officer Montgomery?"

"What about him? He's a class mate, and a good writer, by the way."

"I think he's interested."

"Interesting? I guess so..."

"Interested," he stressed, pointing at her while keeping his arms crossed. "Interested in you."

"You and Cassie really really need to stop? Sam..."

"Georgie Girl, you know Sam was my bestest of friends, right?"

She looked away to Daisy and Max, not really wanting to hear what was coming. "I have to go feed..."

"No," he said, reaching out to take hold of her hands. "You have to listen. I'd give anything if I could trade places with Sam and have struck that black ice instead of him."

"Don't say that..."

"I'm trying to make a point here." He gave her hands a gentle tug and held her left one up, his thumb and forefinger toyed with her wedding band. "It's time, Georgie Girl. It's time to let Sam go. It's time to be you. There's a life left ahead of you."

She pulled free and stepped back. "What does this have to do with Mas... Officer Montgomery? If I'm so ready for a man, what about you?"

"Me! Oh, good God! That's incestuous." He shuddered and wiggled his fingers that she not touch him.

Georgie laughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes; tears for the humor of it, for the longing for her Sam, and for what used to be, never to be again. And she laughed at Nick's open shudder as though he were trying to escape from his skin that was suddenly too small for his frame. His mouth pulled to the side in that silly half grin of his, as he wrapped his arms around her and patted her head into his chest.

"You, Cassie and me. All we have is each other. Don't you think it was fate that brought us together as neighbors, giving us the siblings we didn't have? Cassie on one side, me on the other. That was us." His grin was comical and carried so many memories. "You don't know what Cassie and I put Sam through before we let him date you. But he held in there, our Sam did."

She opened her mouth wanting to ask more, to bring up more memories of Sam, but Nick gently urged her from him and looked at his watch. "Listen, I have to get going here. Have things to do, people to see."

"That is such an over worked phrase."

"I'm not the writer. You are. So I can use it as many times as I want." He rolled his eyes to the ceiling with a quick dismissive wave. "What freedom that is."

"You can be such a... well, such a you, I guess."

He nudged her chin and nose with his knuckle, and she reached for his jacket, but he grabbed it first. So she got the key, led him through the front room and out the door, Daisy ahead of them. "You coming this Saturday?"

"Not sure. The company sales rep has this thing brewing." He raised his hands, once more fingers wiggled. "Big doings." After he put on his helmet, he looked back over his shoulder. "What time on Saturday?"

"About six or seven."

He zipped up his jacket, put on his gloves and started the motorcycle. After the roar of the motor went into idle, he gave her a thumbs-up and roared away. She watched until his taillights disappeared, then looked down at Daisy. Her nose too pointed in the direction the motorcycle had gone. Georgie patted a hand over the loyal head. "At least he's home, Girl." The phone rang in the house and they both ran inside.

The caller ID indicated BLOCKED.

"Hello? Hello?"

With no response, she hung up. Slowly, she went about locking up, then down the hallway remembering those days how often she spent the night at Cassie's house or at Nick's, or they at her house... until their parents finally gave in and cut out a section in the fences. They never even bothered to put in gates. That was how they grew up.

When she married Sam, they moved in with her dad. After her father passed away, only her two children kept the house filled with pieces of her parents. But when the kids went off to college, she told Sam she couldn't live there anymore. It was the first of the three houses to be sold, and they bought this house; small yet big enough for her writing, kids to come visit, "and those grandchildren," Sam had grinned, and hugged her tight. "We're going to grow old here, Georgie, old and wrinkled."

Tears welled and rolled down her cheek. Sam missed the first grandchild by three years. Georgie leaned on the doorframe and flipped on the light to his small medical room where he kept his veterinarian emergency supplies. It was empty of all those things now, and made into a second spare bedroom. Steven and Paula had helped her pack everything with all the love this little family had nurtured.

Sam was the best veterinarian to be had, and a thoroughbred mare at Prime-Breed Ranch was in trouble with a breach birth. They worked with the mare all night; saved both her and the foal. Instead of spending the night at the ranch, he drove home, but the roads had iced up during the cold October night, and her Sam hit a patch of black ice.

I didn't even get the chance to say good-bye to you, she sighed, wiped away the tears, and turned off the light.

Chapter eight

Georgie poured soymilk creamer into her morning oatmeal, flavoring it with her sugar free Hazelnut coffee syrup. While the steaming breakfast cooled, she dressed. When the phone rang and the ID said it was Cassie, Georgie put it on speaker, and sat to eat her oatmeal as she listened.

"I see the salesman from the twilight zone was here," Cassie said.

"Oh, yeah. Nick was in the shop when the police were there about Raggs."

"He told me." Cassie's laughter was the clear twinkling of crystal glass in a chandelier, and Georgie prepared herself.

"Who did?" Georgie asked, her first thought going to Mason wanting to check out Nick's story with Cassie.

"The nut case himself, who else? He told me he pulled the Spook thing on the cop." Cassie finally stopped laughing and took a breath. "We had coffee last night while waiting for yet another boy-arrival into this world."

"I wonder if Nick'll ever grow up; get married."

"Naaahh," Cassie said. "Never happen. He's Peter Pan, our brother is."

"Cassie, don't encourage him."

"God, you are such a sourpuss in the morning," Cassie said, followed with a loud overdone sigh. "You know what you need?"

"Hanging up now," Georgie said, more than ready to end this call.

"Okay, okay, dropping it. Nick said it was M&M that came out to check on Raggs."

"He is a policeman after all." Georgie swallowed the spoonful of oatmeal and made a mental note to do Nick great bodily harm when she saw him again.

"And how many policemen does Portland have?"

Georgie didn't even try to stifle her own sigh of frustration. "Did it occur to you that the other policemen may have gotten important assignments and poor Mason got stuck with mine. I should never have called them."

"Oh, it's poor Mason now, is it? And why not call? It was Mason that said you should."

"Okay, I can see this is turning into a KOBAYASHI MARU situation."

"Don't talk your Trekie lingo to me."

"At least you recognized it. This is progress." Georgie's spoon clinked loudly in the now empty bowl as she stood staring at the phone in its cradle on the table. "It's a term for a no-win situation, no right answer that doesn't land you in quicksand. So, Doctor Blanes, you go deliver another baby. I am going to work. You tell Nick..."

"Which reminds me," Cassie said, as though she'd heard nothing of a good-bye. "Nick asked me the strangest thing."

"And this really surprises you?"

"He asked me if I thought M&M was the type to leave a rose on a windshield?"

Georgie slowly turned to stare at the rose in the vase on the counter corner where Nick had shoved it. What was it Nick had answered? Oh, that rose. But he never did say it was he that put it under the windshield wiper.

"Georgie? Georgie, are you there? Did you hang up on me?"

"No, I'm here."

"Why would he ask that?"

"Don't know," Georgie said, going to the vase. "Why does Nick do anything he does?" She poked at the rose, struck a thorn, and jerked back her finger. "I have to get going. I want to get an hour's worth of writing before I leave for the shop."

"I sure wish I had a job where I could just decide to write for an hour before going to work. Must be nice, you know?"

"Uh huh. And if I were to look inside that little notebook you keep in your pocket; the one you scribble on while having coffee as you're waiting for the right dilation, counting how far apart the contractions are? What would I find, Doctor Blanes?"

"Hanging up now."

Georgie burst into laughter. "God, I am sharp in the morning." And a dial tone agreed with her.

But when Georgie put the phone back on its base, she couldn't help but look at the rose again, the morning mirth slipping away. "So who tucked you under my wiper? Jeffrey? Jeffrey. No. But if not Jeffrey, then who?"

Daisy barked and Georgie looked out into the back yard. A soft morning breeze sent golden leaves floating across the scene. Both Max and Daisy were doing their outdoor thing; Daisy sniffing, following that all-important scent from one end of the yard to the other along the fence line, Max sitting in his corner of the covered patio, watching Daisy.

Georgie smiled. She had been so pleased when Sam had this huge window put in over the kitchen sink. It was like letting the outside come indoors. "I can work in the yard and look up and see you," he said. She'd have to call the landscaping people to start dealing with the falling leaves.

She gave the rose one more moment of reflection and headed for her writing room.

~~0~~

"Hey, Georgie. Good morning. Want your usual?"

Georgie looked at Parker, manager of the Cup Java Espresso House, but his question only brought back Tonie Clark's words, They did say they could adjust their clocks by Ms. Gainsworth's comings and goings. Which is not a good idea, having a predictable schedule like that.

"Georgie? You okay?" Parker asked while making the espressos already ordered. "I heard about Raggs. I'm so sorry. Shall I make you your usual?"

It was difficult to hear Parker over the hissing steamer and the murmuring chit chat among morning caffeine patrons. Georgie took a deep breath and said, "No. Surprise me. I need surprising this morning."

"All right, Georgie!" He smiled his twenty-something charming grin. "Look, your corner table is empty."

Georgie glanced to the far corner where she often waited for the girls or just sat and sipped an espresso while re-reading what she'd written the night before. For a second, she felt shock and a quick shudder. A red rose with a white ribbon beneath the bud lay on the table. She almost turned to ask Parker about it, but one of the Cup Java workers towel-dried a bud vase, poured some water in it, then slipped the rose inside. Georgie then noticed all the tables this morning sported a rose in a vase.

"Georgie?"

"No, not this morning." she told Parker. "I have to get to the shop and get it going."

"Here you go then," he said, handing her a twenty-ounce espresso. "That's five-seventy-five."

"Ouch! It better be good." Georgie took a cautious sip and her taste buds responded. "Oh, yes," she cooed, handing over a ten dollar bill. "What is this drink of the gods?"

"A Parker Morning Wake-up Special," he whispered with a smile that Georgie was certain could send heat waves through many a young woman's body. "Coming in for a hair cut soon."

"Call me." She nodded while slowly savoring another sip then motioned to his worker, Delsie, to put the change in the tip jar. "Hmmm. Worth every penny. You're my man."

"Don't I wish." Parker grinned, did the Groucho Marx-eyebrow lift, and went back to his job. Georgie turned to leave and found a wall of black jacket and neatly pressed black shirt with shiny buttons. She sidestepped while sipping her Parker Special, but the wall moved with her, still blocking her way. Her sight finally focused on the weaponry at the waist and she looked up.

"You and I need to talk," Mason said, and pointed to the far corner table.

"No," Georgie said, and indicated a table at the big window facing the parking lot and the street beyond. "Over here."

When they sat down, the tip of his shoe touched hers and he pulled his feet back, but his large hands almost touched hers on the small round table. She fought the urge to look into his eyes and centered her attention on her espresso, his fingers still very close.

"So far," Mason started out, "We've found nothing regarding Raggs. No one seems to have suffered a hit that night either, or at least they haven't reported it."

"A hit?"

"Robbery, break'n' entry."

"Oh." Even though she was expecting this, it hurt just the same. "I'm not surprised," she murmured.

"I'm sorry." His finger twitched, almost lifting and touching hers, but he stopped and looked to the opening door.

Georgie turned. Tonie Clark was walking in. Georgie raised her espresso to her lips as she watched Tonie's searching glance swing first to the far corner where a young couple now sat enjoying their morning wake-up drink, then moved over the room.

Georgie swallowed, enjoyed the warm tasty liquid make its way down, and waved at the young officer.

Tonie smiled recognition and headed in their direction. "We have a call," she told Mason. "Stolen vehicle. Happened sometime last night. Man went to get in his car this morning... and it was gone."

"I'll be right out."

Tonie nodded formally then smiled down at Georgie before leaving.

Mason leaned forward. "George, your, ah, Spook friend came to see me last night."

"Spook friend?" The moment the words came out, Georgie realized who he meant. She shook her head and let it drop into her hands, then peered at him through her fingers. "Nick," she said, and Mason nodded. She really didn't want to ask, but she needed to know. "What did he say?"

Georgie could not deny her heart raced as Mason smiled at her, his eyes warm, their color deepening as they moved over her face. At the rising flush to her face, she wondered briefly if she was blushing, but decided Parker must have raised the temperature of the place.

"For an only child, Mrs. Gainsworth, you have very impressive and awesome siblings, a Mad OB/GYN and now an invisible Spook... who's turning out to be not so invisible after all."

"I'm so sorry, but he does mean well. I'm afraid to ask, but..."

"You'll be glad to know there is a birth certificate for him. His parents were Mary Jane and William Bane Underwood, ordinary folk, both now deceased. And he'll be glad to know he does exist and works at Cantell Electronics, held in high regard as their best salesman and systems troubleshooter; none better, they said. Impressive."

All Georgie could do was force a smile of apology. She could wring Nick's neck, then decided there was no "could," about it. She would wring his neck. Emmee was right. He was a lunatic! But, she sighed in acceptance, he was hers and Cassie's lunatic, and in truth, they would have him no other way.

"He hung around until I came off my shift."

"What? But how did he know where..."

"Don't know. Never mind that." His eyes darkened as his scrutiny intensified. "But he asked if I had put a rose on your windshield. What's going on, George?"

"Someone tucked a rose under my windshield wiper last night." She shrugged. "I thought it was Nick, but I guess not."

"Is he not one to do that?"

A small laugh found its way out. "Not really. I just thought it might be an apology for acting the fool."

The lights on his squad car began flashing. Tonie's signal for him to hurry, and Georgie began gathering her things.

"It wasn't me."

"I really didn't think it was," she said, pushing back her chair.

"Why?" He reached to help her, but she was already on her feet.

"Why would you?"

"Don't know, but I could have."

"And did you?" she asked, both puzzled and feeling a little something at his reaction.

"No. I just told you. But..." He pointed. "I want you to know I could have."

"Problem is, now I'm wondering who did put it there, and why?"

"What about Mr. Sanders?"

She shook her head, not really sure at first, then decided, "Nnnno."

"Obviously whoever it was has good taste." He smiled and led her toward the door. "Listen, are you going to be home tonight?"

"Yes."

"I'd like to come by. It'll be after seven, if it's okay."

Georgie swallowed that tightness in her throat and said, "Sure," as they left.

Emmee and Brandy came up to her as the squad car drove off with its lights flashing with a quick blast of the siren as it entered traffic. For the first time, Georgie could not bring herself to repeat what she often told her kids when they saw police lights flashing along the roadside, "Oh, oh, Christmas lights." The lights looked nothing like that now.

"Damn, but that man looks good in that uniform," Emmee said with a sigh. "So now we're having morning coffee with him? Making progress here."

But Georgie didn't take the bait. All she could think of was Mason going out on a call, something he did, day in day out, and any one of those calls could be the one to go bad. No, they're nothing like Christmas lights. The lights went off and no siren came on. The theft was last night. No need to hurry, she thought.

"Hey, Boss Lady. You there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," she murmured and led the way to the salon.

"You guys going to open up this shop or not?" Brandy's first customer asked, leaning on the door.

"The day awaits," Georgie told the girls while motioning Edward out of the way so she could officially open Dare To Care Salon. "Ed, we have to have our coffee, or we make mean hairstylists. Trust me, you don't want that. Besides, it's only a quarter of. We don't officially open 'til nine."

"But you're always here at eight-thirty," he said. "Everyone knows that."

Maybe she was too predictable, Georgie thought, and followed them in after looking up the street where the police car had already turned the corner and disappeared behind a building.

Well, she certainly ventured an unexpected step into unpredictability, and took another sip of Parker's special to settle the little flip in her tummy. Whatever possessed her to say yes to Mason coming over?

Chapter nine

As the hands on the clock neared five-thirty, Georgie had trouble concentrating on her work. It would be six-thirty before she was done with Adrian's color weave. Then came the cut and blow dry. After seating Adrian in one of the waiting chairs to let the color process, Georgie went to the supply room to wash out the bowls. She glanced at the clock, saw only ten minutes had passed, and pushed up the faucet handle. Water came out full force, struck the two bowls and sent their contents everywhere.

"Dammit!"

"What's up?" Emmee asked, popping her head through the doorway of the supply room as she walked behind her client to the shampoo bowls.

Georgie turned slightly to show her. There was bleach and color on her face, cobbler apron, and all over the wall.

"Don't touch me," Emmee laughed, backing away.

By the time Georgie finished cleaning up, grateful the bleach and color had missed her eyes, the timer for her weave pinged loudly. She refused to look at the clock. Did she want the time to go fast, or not? She wanted to throw up, that's what she wanted. Why had she said yes to Mason? It was a bad idea. Yet she could not deny the up beat of her heart and flush of heat each time she thought of it.

She finally finished Adrian's color, cut and blow-dry, and stood behind the front desk while Adrian dug through her wallet when the phone rang.

"Dare To Care Salon. This is Georgie. May I help you? Hello? Hello?" With vacuum silence being her only answer, she hung up.

"Don't you hate that?" Adrian said, holding out her Debit Card.

Georgie slid the card then handed it back to Andrian.

After putting it back in her wallet, Andrian smiled while looking in the mirror behind the desk and pushed at her hair. "Love it," she said, then pointed to the empty space on the shelf. "Oh, Sweetie, I hope you find Raggs."

Georgie forced a return smile, and Adrian went out the door, letting in the cold air and noise of falling rain. What a change from yesterday and this morning. Cars squished the moisture under their tires as they jockeyed their way through the parking lot and streets.

The phone rang again and Georgie just stared at it a moment before looking up at Emmee and Brandy. They just shrugged. On the third ring, she picked up. "Dare To Care Salon. This is Georgie. May I..."

"George, this is Mason."

It took all Georgie had to keep from looking around to see if any of those in the shop could somehow hear, or tell it was Mason on the phone. Self-conscious, and the need for privacy rode her hard. "Hi. Was that you that just called?"

"No."

"Okay. Must have been a drive-by hang up," she said, keeping her voice low while looking out the window as though watching the traffic. "What's up?"

"We have a situation going down. Don't know how long it will take. Another rain check on that coffee?"

"Sure." It was difficult for her to register what she was feeling, relief or disappointment?

There was a pause, not a long one, but a noticeable one.

"George?"

"Yes."

"I really want to collect on that rain check."

There was so much she wanted to say, some clever remark, something bland, and something she couldn't even bring herself to think about much less say. All that came out was, "'kay." She swallowed and forced out the words. "You and Tonie be careful."

"She went home sick."

Before the pause became too obvious and harder to break, Georgie said, "Then you be careful."

While she could still hear police station activity in the background, Mason said nothing, yet she didn't want to hang up. Something was left unsaid though she was unsure what, and she asked, "You there?"

"Yes," he said, paused again, then, "It's... just that it's been a while since anyone has said that to me."

"Let's hit it, Montgomery," a man's voice said in the background.

"got'ta go, George. Bye."

The click pierced Georgie's ear and she stared down at the buzzing receiver in her hand. With great care she placed it back on its base. When she looked up, she saw Emmee was looking at her over her client's head through the mirror of her station. Without a word Emmee motioned her client to the shampoo bar. Brandy too had been watching through the corner of her eye, but when Georgie caught her, she immediately turned back to the haircut she was doing.

The door swung open with a ping. "Hey, Georgie Girl, can I talk you into a hair cut before you leave?"

Nick stood there, motorcycle helmet in the crook of the elbow, his smile as boyish as the day Georgie first saw him sitting on the top step of his parent's porch watching the movers unload her family's furniture. But this was now, and she took a deep breath to meet that smile with as cold a stare as she could muster. With great calculation, she came around her desk.

He quickly held up a hand to ward her off. "If you don't want to cut my hair, just say so. I can go to one of those assembly line cheap joints where I don't even need an appointment."

"I should let you, you know that?" she scolded. "No. I should drive you to one and sit there while they cut-up your thinning blond locks." She started for the back of the shop.

"Thinning?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair and giving a quick glance into the mirror before trailing behind her. "Oh, that is such a cheap shot, and so sooo beneath you."

"Hi, Nick," Brandy said, as they went past her to Georgie's station.

"Hey, Brandy."

"Well, will you look at what the acid-rain washed in," Emmee said, coming back from the shampoo bar with her client.

"Love you too, Emmee-Loo," he answered, and they touched open hand finger tips as they passed each other.

That was their banter. Emmee hated him calling her Emmee-Loo, and she bit back with her dry humor.

Georgie waited while Nick set down his helmet and hung up his leather jacket. When he hooked it on the coat tree, the sturdy wooden hanger swung with the weight of it.

"Jeez what do you have in that jacket?" she asked.

"Pure thick leather, Georgie Girl," he said, steadying the coat tree. "Keeps the rain out." Then sat down in the hydraulic chair.

Georgie put on the neck strip, snapped open the drape to wrap it around him, and asked, "What did you say to Officer Montgomery?"

"No," Nick said, settling into the chair. "First you cut my hair. Then we'll discuss Dudley Do-Right. No clippers this time. I'm wearing it longer."

"I can see that." Georgie gave his hair a tug and started combing through it. There actually was no sign of thinning, but she couldn't help noticing the blond was slowly giving way to hints of white. Though he tried to hide it, he winced, and she eased a finger over the spot.

"What?" he asked. "Did you find head lice?"

Carefully parting the hair again over the area, Georgie saw a healing cut, and looked into the mirror at him. "What happened? How did you get this cut?"

"Quit playing with it."

"What happened?"

"God, you're nosey," he said. "Alright. First, if it's any of your business, while trouble-shooting the computer system I sold, I opened a metal drawer... you know... sharp corners and all that. Then I crawled under the metal desk to make sure all the connections for the system were securely in place and not been compromised. And I came back up. Oh, did I mention the drawer was still open at the time? Very unforgiving, that sharp corner was."

"Oh, Nick."

"Split me wide open."

"Looks like it took a couple of stitches," she said, easing a finger over it. "More than a couple."

"Ow. Quit playing with it, I told you. It still smarts."

"You are such a crybaby," Georgie said, with a quick laugh.

"Thanks to you and Cassie."

What would Cassie and she have done without Nick, she wondered? No one ever bullied them when Nick was around. She finished the haircut and shampooed him. As she blew his hair dry using her fingers instead of a brush, she accidentally rubbed the scar and he jerked way.

"Sorry."

"That's okay."

Georgie eyed the cut. If one comes up under an open drawer, you expect the cut more to the back of the head, she mused. This one was more to the side and front.

"Do you want to call Cassie and April and have dinner?" he asked, jerking her back from her thoughts. "Or do you have a date?"

Her sensors surfaced to full alert. He was fishing here, and she could see and hear another no-win situation lurking in his question. She had to find a benign answer, came up empty, and tip-toed her way. "Why would I have a date?"

"Well, one: it's Friday night and two: I just thought Dudley Do-Right would step up to the plate and be doing the smart thing."

Georgie put the blow dryer into its holder with a noisy shove, and looked into the mirror with a deep and loud warning breath. Was this why Mason asked to see her tonight? Had Nick bullied him into asking her? If so, why did Mason cancel? She leaned down close enough to smell the shampoo fragrance in Nick's hair. "Just what did you say to him last night?" she hissed, keeping her voice as low as she could.

When he tried to get up, she leaned one elbow on his shoulder to keep him in the chair. With that elbow still sitting heavy on the shoulder, her free hand took hold of his earlobe and began to twist slowly with intent.

"Not the ear, Georgie, not the ear."

"What did you say to him?"

"Nothing!" He pulled away while rubbing his abused ear, his face crunching up. He kept his voice low as his eyes darted to those left in the salon then back at her. "I just wanted to make sure he found my Raggs. That's all."

"She's mine, not yours."

"I know, I know," he assured her, his hands up to keep her from him.

She wanted to laugh, but knew better. Here they were, having an argument over Raggs; two grown people avoiding the real subject, her life, and his caring interference in it. She sighed and dropped into the nearby hair dryer chair. It was always a long run, talking with Nick. He just sucked the energy out of her.

"Guys?" Emmee called back from the front of the shop. "Brandy and I are through for the night. Want us to lock you two in or do you want one of us to stay and referee?"

Georgie glanced at Nick, saying, "No. We're leaving too. Turn off the neon though. See you in the morning."

In the quiet of the empty shop, the clock on the wall ticked away the seconds of peace. Somewhere outside, a car honked while another beeped that unmistakable auto-lock or unlock.

"Georgie Girl," Nick started out. "You and Cassie are all the family I have. I wanted to see if Dudley Do-Right was as do-right as Cassie wants him to be."

"He is a classmate, Nick," she pleaded with him to accept the fact, "a fellow writer. That is all."

"Okay. But I don't think he's the one who put the rose on your windshield."

She shrugged. "He told me he didn't."

"He told you I asked him?"

Georgie laughed as she went to the circuit box and turned off the lights. "Was he supposed to keep it a deep dark secret?"

"Well, no," he said, putting on his jacket. "But I didn't think he'd go running to you right off the bat."

"He waited till morning. Is that okay?" She lowered the thermostat and grabbed her coat. "Why did you take credit for it?"

"I didn't take credit," he defended. "If I remember correctly, I said oh, that rose. Though I do admit it didn't hurt for you to think I did."

"You are such an..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said, motioning that he'd heard it all before.

"How did you know where to find him?"

"Policeman." He put his finger to his head feigning deep thinking. "Let's see. Where would you find a policeman? Ooh, a police station, maybe? That took a lot of gray matter."

"Did you tell him to ask me out?" She studied his face for any signs of a lie. "Tell me you didn't do that."

"No, I did not tell him to do that," he said, handing over her scarf and hat. "And if he asked you out, it was his own idea, and I will truly have to check him out. So does that mean you do have a date tonight? Do I eat dinner alone or are you going to invite me to come along?"

"Yeah, I can see that happening," she said, leading the way to the front of the shop. "He was coming over later, but he cancelled out. Said something was happening and he didn't know how long it would take."

"Yup, going to have look into this puppy."

"And did you do this with April too?" she asked.

"Oh, you bet'cha. You want to be a life's partner to one of my girls, you had better be legit and very squeaky clean." He put his helmet in the crook of his elbow.

"And you get this info how?"

"I'm a computer guy, remember?"

"Nick!"

"Come on, call Cassie and April," he pleaded. "See if they want to have dinner with us. It's Do-Right's loss."

"Okay," she gave in. There was no point trying to pry anything more from him. He was clamming up. She picked up the phone to call Cassie and April. When she hung up, she gave Nick a grin. "They'll meet us at the Italian Garden."

After locking the door and giving it a tug, she looked toward her car. The rain had stopped, but the night air was damp. She shouldered her purse and pulled her scarf snuggly to ward off the cold. "Want to go in my car?"

"Sure, I'm game. I have my helmet," he said, tapping his knuckles on his head gear. "Lead the way."

"You ass," she half laughed, and led the way between the parked cars for her Subaru. At least most of the traffic was at the other end of the Center near the restaurant and store. Just as she passed the rear end of the car facing her shop, Georgie heard the rev of an engine and turned. Headlights blinded her as the loud gunning roar came toward her.

"Georgie!"

Her name was a sharp shrill in her ears at the same moment she heard the clank clank of Nick's helmet hitting the pavement. Her world went wild with a sharp yank at her neck, her feet slipping out from under her.

Chapter ten

Just as Georgie was yanked back, a dark car roared by, missing Georgie, but striking her purse. There was a sharp jerk to the shoulder strap. Georgie found herself slammed into Nick's chest, then quickly set aside so Nick could step out and stare after the vehicle. The driver didn't even stop to see if he had hit anyone. Nick looked both ways searching for another set of eyes to the event. His features pinched with a quick shake of his head, and came back. He cupped a hand on her shoulder, and she held out the broken purse strap.

"You hurt?" he asked.

Georgie shook her head, trying to catch her breath and make out what happened. Georgie realized Nick had snatched her clear of the car, by her coat collar.

"I didn't get a look at the plate," he said. "He's long gone. Sure you're okay?"

Still unable to speak, she nodded while staring at her purse and the torn strap. With trembling fingers, she felt the burning welts at the back of her neck where Nick's fingernails had dug in as he pulled her to safety.

"You scratched me," she said, looking around, at Nick... at... nothing, just staring.

He pressed her to his chest once more and patted her head. "Yeah, I scratched you."

He let go of her just long enough to pick up his helmet that had rolled and got snagged by the rear tire of a parked car. His arm was firm about her as he looked both ways before moving them across the parking lot to her car.

"You didn't by any chance recognize the car?" he asked. "SUV, dark."

She shook her head. "All I saw was headlights." As she too looked both ways, she thought, a little late, Georgie, a little late on that. "I guess a black coat on a wet winter night is a bad idea."

"Going that fast in a parking lot is asinine!" he said. "Thought you said the shopping center had security."

"We do. Instant Reply Security. But they're not on constant patrol, and I don't think we're the only center they guard."

Nick stopped, then quickly continued to her car. "You know," he said, "I could swear I've seen that vehicle before. Something about it." Giving her a little quick hug of assurance, his heavy hand then slipped away with a pat.

Georgie dug into her coat pocket for her keys, and beeped open her car. When she reached for the door handle, she saw her hands were shaking, and the realization of just how close that speeding car had come to hitting her sunk in. She held out the broken strap to stare at it in the dark. Her kids would have been orphans. She would never have seen her grandchild, and everything blurred behind hot welling tears.

"Give me the keys," Nick said.

Though she heard him, she couldn't respond.

"Georgie!"

It was a sharp call, jerking her back to her old self, and her hand instinctively curled into a fist.

"Okay, calm down here." He waited, his hand out for her keys. "Georgie Girl, I'm not asking you to give up your freedom, space, or any other ridiculous thing that's going on in your little square head. Let me drive until you calm down."

"Fine," she said, handing over her keys, then went to the passenger side. She was alive. That's what mattered. She was herself again. "But you better put the rear view mirror back to where it is now," she told him, trying to sound hard, and failing miserably, she knew. "You can slide back the seat, but don't touch the seatback. I've got it set just where I want it."

"Just get in the goddamn car." He released the seat as far back as it would go to accommodate his long legs then slid in after tossing his helmet in the back. "How the hell did Sam ever put up with you?" he asked.

The silence in the car was accented by the slamming of the doors, and broken by rain suddenly pouring down in a pounding force.

"I can't believe I said that," Nick said, forehead pressed to his hands on the steering wheel. "I'm a fucking idiot!"

"No, you're not," Georgie told him, and reached over to take his hand. "We're both shaken up and a bit touchy, don't you think?"

"Yeah, just a bit, I guess" he admitted with a half grin, and squeezed her hand hard before releasing it to insert the key in the ignition, but did not turn it on.

It was a few minutes before the down pour ebbed.

"Do you have to tell Cassie about this?," Georgie asked, staring out at the "dark and rainy night," almost laughing at the cliché, but didn't. But she did let it lift her spirits. "You know how she gets."

"Oh, no. No, no, no." He shook his head, with a choking laugh as he turned the key and the motor hummed. "I like living." The old Nick was returning, assuring her they were both calming down. "If she finds out and I didn't tell her, I'll be toast."

She wanted to join him, laugh the whole thing off, but the truth of his statement kept any mirth to a tight strained smile. To not tell Cassie would be both their end.

~~0~~

For a second, Georgie thought Cassie was going to reach across the restaurant table for Nick before they'd even finished their recount of the night's incident.

"Did you at least get a license number?" Cassie began her interrogation. "What make of car? SUV tells me nothing. Men are supposed to notice little things like that, especially you, Mr. Know-it-all."

"I was too busy pulling this one out of the way," Nick said, pointing his thumb at Georgie, following with a shoulder nudge, then motioned Cassie to settle down. "All I saw was the back end of it. But I'm doing a search up here." He tapped a finger to his head. "I'll put it together."

"Yeah, well your hard drive needs updating."

"My hard drive is just fine, thank you very much," Nick threw back. "I've heard no complaints."

"You are so vile."

Georgie and April just sat back, looked across the table at each other, and let the scene go on with a long practiced acceptance. April, like Georgie, learned quite some time ago... when Nick and Cassie entered into their war of words it was best to just let them get it all out. While arguing, they heard no one but each other.

"They'll wear themselves out soon," Georgie said.

April nodded, but said nothing. April was taller than Cassie, slender, wore no make-up, and a very laid back person. She was also one of the best architects to be had who could do the work on her own from the base of the building to its roof... if need be. But then, Cassie would only choose the cream of the crop, and April was that. Georgie sighed. Seventeen years ago, she and Sam attended Cassie and April's union. Nick manage to fly in for the ceremony, then just as quickly had to leave, but only a sister came from April's side. The rest of her family refused to acknowledge the event and commitment.

As though their thoughts had met somewhere in the ambiance of the moment, April looked up, and met Georgie's gaze. With a half smile and a hint of a roll of her brown eyes, April weaved her fingers through her short warm brown hair that Georgie kept highlighted with a soft blond, said "I need a hair cut."

"Sure," Georgie said. "Just give me a call. Let me know when. Looks like you're also ready for another highlight."

"April, your hair is short enough," Cassie said. "How much shorter do you want it?"

If nothing else, the war of words had come to a stop. April merely offered Cassie a side glance. "Have I ever told you how to wear your hair?"

"I think we better order," Georgie said, eyeing Nick, who, in turn, overtly rolled his eyes.

"And you people wonder why I don't marry," Nick said, signaling the waitress.

"I think you should tell M&M," Cassie suggested, ignoring Nick's remark, and Georgie glared back at her to stop before she got started. "Georgie..." It was almost a whine. "I think he should know."

Gratefully, the waitress came, bringing the conversation to a stop. They each gave her their order, but there was no mistaking who held the young waitress's attention. Nick.

"Anything from the bar while you're waiting?" the waitress asked, but her attention never left Nick.

"Coffee for me," he said.

"Nope. I'm driving," April said.

"Nothing for me," Cassie said, then thought a moment and added, "Actually, I'd like some orange juice."

"Me too," Georgie ended it, and hoped against hope the matter of calling Mason would be dropped.

"So, who's M&M?" Nick asked once the waitress left.

So much for that hope, Georgie sighed, and sipped on her glass of water and waited. No one said anything and Nick looked to her for an explanation. Georgie shook her head with a quick hand wave of dismissal, and let her sight wander. This was always the way it was. Cassie flung doors open, but it was Georgie who was expected to walk through them.

"She's referring to Officer Montgomery," Georgie finally told Nick. "She calls him M&M."

"M&M is Officer Montgomery?" April asked, her voice lifting in surprise, then shook her head in hopeless resignation. "God, Cassie, will you never get tired of meddling?"

"This isn't meddling," Cassie defended, patting and squeezing April's hand before Georgie found herself, once more, the center of her dear friend's match making attention. "I think he'd want to know. Nick, you know it was a hit and run. Wouldn't you report it? Come on. Back me up here."

"It was a careless speeder in a parking lot," Georgie argued. "He didn't hit me."

"Just because he missed you," Nick said, "doesn't make it less a hit and run. He must have heard that purse of yours when he hit it. If he is all that innocent, then why didn't he stop? I have to agree with Cassie on this. I know I'd want to be told, and as interested as I think Dudley Do-Right is in you..." He let the words fade away, his eyes set on his finger toying with the napkin in his well practiced overdone innocence.

"See?" Cassie said, appearing very pleased she was not alone, then pointed at Nick. "Dudley Do-Right. I like that. Very clever, Nicky."

Georgie chose not to comment on Nick's quick thumbs-up and grin. Instead, she looked to April for her quiet logic. Someone had to see her side of this. It was totally ridiculous for Mason to be brought into this. The man had a job to do. He didn't need this. But April met Georgie's hopeful glance with an up-lift of eyebrows, then seemed to find her fork a more important focal point. Georgie's hopes died. She was alone. April was siding with Cassie and Nick.

"Traitor," Georgie murmured.

"I have to consider my happy home," April shrugged, while rolling the fork between her fingers.

"We have no make on the car, no license number," Georgie continued her reasoning, then turned to Nick. "What exactly are we going to report? Dark SUV, one broken purse strap."

"I told you," he said, voice low as he leaned into her. "I'm working on it."

"The person is probably as mortified as I was scared," Georgie told them, then motioned that the waitress was coming with their coffee, orange juice and the appetizers.

Though they ate their food in mild conversation, it was only because Nick was deep into himself the entire meal. Now and then he would give the proper response, but Georgie knew he was somewhere in his mind working on his puzzle. He was truly a human computer. It might take him a while, but whatever information he was seeking, Georgie knew he would eventually find it. She had long ago lost count of how many times he climbed the tree branch from his window and followed the limbs between houses to come pound on her window just to tell her the answer to a question she'd completely forgotten was asked. He'd grin, point to his head then at her. "Told you," he'd say, and leave.

"Call M&M," Cassie said again, as they left the restaurant, and pulled her coat closer to ward off the cold breeze.

"I'll think about it," Georgie relented, and shivered as she brought up the knitted scarf snuggly under her chin.

April gave her a hug and whispered loudly enough to be heard, "Do us all a favor and at least call this M&M. Cassie will make our lives miserable until you do."

"Oh, will you stop?" Cassie said to April.

Georgie smiled, but gave April a satirical guise. "They call that controlling."

"You have no idea," April said, in her quiet manner while she searched her pant pockets and came up with her BMW keys jingling.

"Okay, that's it. Time to go." Cassie hugged Georgie then Nick, and walked off. "Do it," she said, turning to point at Nick. "You make sure she does." When Nick didn't answer, she stopped and waited. "Nick?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heard you, already. God, what a nag you've become. Take her away, April."

"You got it," April said, and took Cassie by the arm to urge her away. "Come on."

~~0~~

"Where did you park your motorcycle?" Georgie asked, steering her Subaru into the Western Shopping Center entrance nearest her shop.

"Behind Dare To Care."

"What? Why in back?"

"Because you don't leave something like that baby alone on a rainy night. It's chained to the light post behind your trash dumpster, and out of sight, sort of."

Georgie parked so her headlights offered all the light Nick would need. She had to admit, whatever cloth he placed over baby made the motorcycle blend into the darkness. It was a darkness she often complained about to Center Management. It was an area not safe for female workers, or males, for that matter. It was too lonely and should have twice the amount of lighting. Instant Reply Security was not instant enough, and she would let neither Brandy nor Emmee park their cars back here.

When Nick didn't get out, she looked over at him.

"Turn off your headlights a minute," he said.

The dark night enveloped them as did his silence. She could see him squinting; his sight set on something beyond the windshield. He's still searching, she thought, but said nothing. It would be like touching the wrong key on your computer while it was doing a file search.

After a while her eyes adjusted to what light the few Center lamps offered. It took a minute before he pointed across the dim parking area, his attention and sight still fixed where he indicated.

"Who parks over there?" he asked. "Two spaces over from the opening in the wall there."

Georgie looked, she too squinting as though it would help. "I'm not sure..."

"Think. Dark, SUV. Two spaces."

Georgie looked back at him. "I don't normally come here at night... Wait. A Durango, maybe?"

This time he turned slightly, his eyes meeting hers. His face was a mask of sharp sculptured lines in the low light. "It was a Durango that almost hit you."

"What?"

"I'm telling you. It was a Durango. Who drives that car?"

"It doesn't mean it was that car," she said, a dread turning over in her stomach. "I mean... Nick..."

"It's gone. It was there when I arrived. Trust me on that. Now it's gone."

"Well, Jeffrey probably went home..." She bit her lip, but it was too late. The words were out and there was no taking them back.

Nick now had that bone in his mouth and she knew he would not let it go. He turned all the way to face her squarely, but she was certain he was not seeing her. It was as though he was studying a jigsaw puzzle that wouldn't come into focus for him.

"Jeffrey." His voice was flat, hard. "Little mild mannered Jeffrey from the shop?"

She couldn't lie to him. He would see right through it. "I'm almost positive he normally parks his car there. He does drive a forest green Durango. But..."

"Where does he live?"

"I don't know." When his eyes sharpened, she added, "I honestly don't know. I've never been to his house. You don't really think it was him. I mean... come on."

His whole body relaxed, but Georgie felt it was a role he was playing, trying to keep it all cool. "It wouldn't hurt to take a look at his car. Clear him first, and move on. You know."

"Okay. I'm not stupid. Out with it." She pointed at him and made exaggerated circles with her finger. "I can see those little wheels turning in your pointed little head. I can't see Jeffrey being that careless in a parking lot filled with people. I..."

She stopped and thought back to that moment. There was the rev of the engine and the high beams came on, blinding her, but the gunning engine didn't back off. If anything, it roared even more as the car came at her.

"Oh, my God. You really believe it was intentional?" she asked, and shivered in the warm car.

Nick's nod was a mere wisp of a shadow.

"Now you do too."

Chapter eleven

"But." Georgie couldn't say it.

She looked to the empty parking space across the way. Jeffrey? She'd known him from the day of her wedding to Sam. He had accompanied his dad. She was still in Beauty School, Sam in his first year of Veterinary School. Jeffrey was still in Business College. From that time on, even while she was in school, every three weeks, he sat in her haircutting chair... over twenty years.

"No. I will not believe Jeffrey would do something like this. Even if it is what you're thinking."

"You know why I didn't get anything off the plates?" he asked, but didn't wait for her to answer. "There were no plates."

She could almost feel his eyes move over her face, waiting for her to absorb what he had said.

"But... new cars don't have them for a while... you know. While they wait..."

"Georgie, there was nothing," he emphasized. "Not new ones, in between ones, no paper tags on the windows, nothing."

"Okay, but why. Why would he do it?" she asked.

His intense look softened and he almost smiled. "He was pretty pissed off the other day."

"Well, he was stressed out..." Georgie couldn't finish. She could find nothing to say to further her argument. She just didn't think Jeffrey was capable of harming her, or anyone for that matter.

"Stressed out over what?"

"I don't know. I..." But she did know, or thought she knew, but she certainly didn't want to tell Nick about her using Mason to ward off Jeffrey's attentions.

"What?" Nick asked.

"It was nothing. At least not anything that would make him want to run me over. I mean, my God, Nick."

The car swayed as Nick shifted in the seat. After a second, he took an exaggerated deep breath. "For a writer you have a limited imagination."

"Nick. This isn't one of my novels."

"No. If it were one of your novels, you'd have written yourself a little smarter."

"Okay, get out," she ordered, turning her headlights back on.

"I'm sorry." He lifted his hands in surrender, his head lowered and shaking in shame. "I apologize. Stupid remark on my part. Very insensitive and all that crap."

Georgie could see her knuckles get little white snowcaps as she gripped the steering wheel, struggling to keep from laughing. There was just no staying angry with Nick. Gathering all her patience, she set her sights on him. "You really really do need to work on your apologies. They suck."

"God, don't I know it," he laughed and sat back into the seat. Finally, he took a deep breath, his body truly relaxing. "Uh... Georgie Girl?"

The honey sweet tone of his voice sent her warning signals into red alert. "Whatever it is, the answer is no."

"Aww, Georgie Baby."

Here it comes, she thought, and let out a heavy sigh of her own, giving in to the inevitable. "What is it?"

"Well, they haven't turned on the gas or electricity at my place and it's very cold there."

The skin around her eyes and mouth tightened as her brow puckered. "And this is important to me, how?"

"Do you really want me to spend the night in an old cold, cold house?"

"What old house? Thought you had a condo."

"Nope. Bought back my mom and dad's house last year." He held up a hand. "Before you ask... I don't know why. I just wanted something of my past, I guess."

"Don't we all," she said.

"But I found it's not the same without you and Cassie. So. I think I'm going to sell it again, not sure yet. But it is old and very cold without the gas and lights on. So how about it?"

She was about to answer, then thought for a second. "Wait a minute. Where have you been staying the last two three nights?"

"Uh." He looked out the window then down at his hands. "Her husband came home."

Instinctively her hand shot out to give his head a sharp shove. "What is wrong with you? Do you have to play the traveling salesman part to the limit? When are you going to grow up?"

"Being a grown up is no fun, and she is hardly the farmer's naïve wife, let me tell you."

"Oh, please don't," she pleaded with a wave to stop him. The pause lengthened, tugging at her heart. He was Nick after all.

"So, can I?"

"Speak to me." She waited. Nothing. Lacing her fingers, she then set them on her tummy, leaned back into her seat, and closed her eyes. "If you want me to do something for you, you will have to ask me flat out, and with great charm I might add."

A loud grunt of frustration rumbled out of him. "You can be such a..."

"Lacking charm here."

"Can I please please spend the night with you?"

She rolled her head to look over at him, showing absolutely no humor to his remark. His leather jacket squeaked as he tugged at the collar opening as though to adjust the fit. She waited.

"Too forward, huh?"

She didn't answer, but kept her sight steadfast on him. He tried smiling but failed, then sobered with a clearing of his throat.

"Can... may I please stay the night at your place, at least until they turn on the utilities at my place?"

"Get on your damn motorcycle and meet me at home."

"You're the best, Georgie Girl!" He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before she could stop him, then reached behind the seat for his helmet. She watched as he pulled off the bike's cover, unchained it, and rolled it to where he then straddled it. It quickly roared into motion.

~~0~~

All the way home, Georgie kept seeing dark colored Durangos. She never gave them any attention before. Now, they seem to be everywhere; coming toward her, in the cross streets, parked along the curb, in her rearview mirror, then realized they were all just large dark colored vehicles, not necessarily Durangos. When it started to drizzle, she gave up looking and turned her attention to driving.

For some reason, the normal drive was extra long this evening. Perhaps she should sell the house and buy a condo closer to the shop? But then, it wouldn't be home, she thought, with a sigh, and Daisy and Max needed a home with yard space.

As she pulled into her driveway and up to her house, the sensor activated lights guided her way.

A small gasp caught in her throat. Mason's black 4Runner was sitting there with its motor running, but leaving her enough room to enter her garage. As she approached, the exhaust from the tailpipe died, and Mason got out of the car to wait for her. He was out of uniform and had on his leather jacket with a light gray turtleneck. She flicked the remote for the garage door, but didn't pull in.

Oddly, she suddenly found herself regretting she had said yes to Nick spending the night. The roar of a motorcycle scolded her for the bad thoughts, but she could only smile at Mason as she opened the door to her Subaru. Whatever situation he had been called to answer had let him return unharmed.

Before she could say anything to Mason, Nick's headlight came up the slope. This time he drove the bike into the garage and parked it near the left wall and out of the way of her car. He walked over to them, tucking his helmet in the crook of the arm.

"Are we just going to stand out here?" he asked with a wide grin. "Put your car in the garage, Georgie Girl."

"Why thank you, Nick," she said, giving him a sharp side glance. "I think I'll do just that."

Once she put the car in the garage, Nick was quick to her side as she turned off the ignition, and got out. He leaned in to her and whispered, "We didn't even have to call him."

"Can you behave?"

"Not on your life. This is going to be too much fun."

"If this is a bad time..." Mason said.

"No." Georgie shook her head with an appreciative smile. "In fact, according to my friends, this is perfect. Let's go inside." She flicked the remote to close the garage door and entered her kitchen.

Daisy began her front paw prancing, saw both men, and backed up with a small whimper. Max jumped down off his seat and meandered down the hall. Georgie smiled at Daisy. Instead of choosing either Nick or Mason to go to, the Schnauzer came to stand beside her.

"Oh, now you come to me. Wise choice," she murmured, and took out her coffee pot while the men each took off their jackets and hung them over the back of a kitchen chair. "While that's perking, I'm going to change into my comfies. Nick, like it or not, behave. Don't make me hurt you." She turned up the thermostat on her way with Daisy and Max at her heels.

~~0~~

Once in her comfy sweats, she made her way back down the hall to the kitchen. The men's voices reached her and she slowed down, listening.

"This f... This man held a gun to his kid's head." It was Mason's voice, low, solemn. "Four hours they talked to him, and each minute makes him crazier, poking the barrel into the kid's temple. This was his way of trying to win back his wife."

"Did you take the shot?" Nick asked, his voice low.

There was a pause and a long heavy sigh. "When he drew back the arm, I shot him in the shoulder. After an hour and half with The Review Board, I'm on administrative leave until they judge whether it was a clean shooting."

Georgie leaned on the wall. The pain in Mason's voice sent a stab of grief to the deepest part of her. She wanted to take back her steps and not have heard any of this. How could she compare a broken purse strap to this, she thought, and looked back to her bedroom door.

"Eavesdroppers never hear well of themselves, Georgie Girl," Nick called out. "Get in here."

"George?"

She heard Mason's chair creak as he turned to look. There was surprise in his voice, and Georgie sensed he probably never intended to unload like that, but Nick had a way about him... the father confessor. How many times had she and Cassie done just that, unload.

"It'll be all over the news anyway," Nick said as she entered the kitchen. He was talking to Mason.

Georgie put a hand on Mason's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm not normally an eavesdropper."

"You've been one all the years I've known you," Nick said.

"I told you," she said, wrapping her hands around Nick's neck as if to massage his shoulders, but let the fingers meet in a choking grip. "Don't make me hurt you." With a smile to Mason, she went to pour the coffee, gave Mason a cup, then one to Nick as she looked him straight in the eyes. "All else in our lives seems so small compared to something like that."

"No!" Nick shot back. "You almost run over by a car is just as important."

"What?" Mason leaned forward, arms on the table.

"Nick," she tried, but he would not be stopped, and all she could do was sit and listen as he began recounting the night's event.

"And you really think it might have been intentional?" Mason asked, while his hand reached for hers, and she let it. It felt warm and she fought the urge to place hers over his.

Nick breathed deeply, thoughtfully, and nodded. "I think it was a dark colored Durango. Didn't get a plate number though. I'm certain there was no plate; front or back."

"Durango?" Mason murmured. "Doesn't that Sanders drive a Durango?"

"I think Nick is..." Georgie tried to say.

"What, Georgie?" Nick snapped at her. "Nick is what?" He got up and grabbed her purse to hold out the torn strap with a shake. "If not the purse, it could have been you. That's how close it was, goddamn it. Which reminds me. Where's your phone book?"

"Nick," she pleaded, but it was like trying to stop a moving train, and she got up to get him the phone book before he started a full house search.

"He lives on Upper State Street," Mason said. When Georgie turned to him he shrugged. "I had to check him out over the Raggs incident. Can't remember the number, but he lives on Upper State Street."

"Here it is," Nick said, jabbing a finger at the page. "2020 North Upper State." He reached for his jacket. "Want to take a ride?"

Neither Georgie nor Mason moved.

"You can't go over there just like that," she told him. "You just can't."

"I want to check out his car. That's all. What's the harm in that? We don't even have to knock on the door."

When she refused to buy into his insanity, Nick looked to Mason. Mason opened his mouth, but she put a hand to his arm.

"No," she told Nick. "You are not going to drag him into this. No."

Mason gave her hand a pat, stood up, and began to slip into his jacket. Georgie stood her ground, grabbing hold of the thick leather.

"George, if I don't go with him, he could do something stupid."

"Oh, really." She crossed her arms and looked at him squarely. "And who will keep you from doing something stupid? You're already on administrative leave. I won't have you put in further jeopardy because of some silly parking lot mishap."

Mason looked to Nick then back at her. His firm finger nudged her chin before it came to rest on her lips, then slid gently across.

"Oh, get a room already," Nick said.

Mason smiled, ignoring the remark. "Hey, why not come with us," he asked.

"What?" So distracted by his touch, it took her a second to comprehend.

"Great idea," Nick said, clasping his hands loudly. She could hear the scrape of his skin as he rubbed them together, then raised one after crossing his heart. "Your decision will be our command on this. Swear."

"Put your hand down," she said.

"I'll meet you two outside. There's something I need from my bike."

She nodded and turned to go get her coat. The leather scent of Mason's jacket made her turn, found him next to her, and she looked up into his face. His gray eyes were warm, sad, with a touch of something else.

"About this shooting," she said. "Will you be talking to someone... you know. It can't be an easy thing to deal with..."

"First thing in the morning," he said with a deep sigh. "Cops who don't make use of department shrinks burn out. I don't intend to burn. I know, deep down, if there had been any other way, that jerk would still be standing instead of in the hospital. Come on. Get your coat. Your Spook friend is waiting out in the cold."

Georgie smiled. "He grows on you, doesn't he?"

"God, it's a frightening thought, but he does. He should have been a bartender."

"There isn't a drink you can name he can't mix or tell you how it's done." At Mason's doubting look, Georgie smiled. "Not kidding. And you know what? Had I not heard you two, he would never have told me what you said."

"Was he a priest too?"

This time, Georgie did laugh. "Nick, a priest? Yeah, right."

~~0~~

Mason drove his 4Runner onto Upper State Street. It was not what Georgie expected. It was a portion of Portland she had actually never seen; not even when Jeffrey's dad passed away. Mr. Sanders had been cremated and by the firm wishes of the deceased, there had been no memorial service; neither at the church or home. So, even then, Georgie had not set foot in Jeffrey's house.

The houses were older, but not as old as older Portland; nicely spaced, all multi-level and yards neatly trimmed. They had to be in the three to four hundred thousand dollar bracket, if not more.

"He lives nice, your accountant."

"Hey, I pay my people well," she told Mason. "I just didn't know how well. Actually, I think it's old money here. His dad probably bought this when it was under a hundred thousand. You can see it's been renovated. This is an area I've not seen before."

Nick opened his door, but Georgie kept him from getting out. "No. I'll do it," she said.

"Do what?"

"I don't know," she said, getting out. "But I'll do it when I get there."

"Get your butt back in here."

By that time, Georgie was out of the car and going up the brick walkway. Somewhere a small dog barked. She turned to look. All the houses had one or more lights on, but not here. Jeffrey's house was dark; not even the walkway was lighted as were the rest of the houses. Georgie shivered. Her coat wasn't keeping out the cold and she rubbed her arms. She tugged at the sleeves to cover her hands.

Mason and Nick came up behind her with flashlights. Nick and she made their way to the garage while Mason went to the house. The large doublewide garage door was not completely down. If the alarm was set, it was unlikely to be activated here.

"Nick!" she hissed.

But by that time, Nick had already raised the door so they could look inside. No alarm went off, and he grinned at her. A dim light on the wall did come on automatically, and revealed a neatly kept garage... but no vehicle.

"Talk about a neat-ass garage," Nick murmured. "This guy is..."

Georgie was about to walk in, but Nick's out stretched arm stopped her. He pointed to an area near the cement floor and midway up. She saw two small red lights. He motioned the other wall. Two more lights.

"No one's home," Mason said, coming up behind them.

Georgie pointed at the security red lights.

"High-end security," he said. "No movement in the house; not a single light is on." He moved the flashlight beam slowly about the garage. The shelves were all neatly kept, labeled with plastic covers over the wording, work tools all hung on hooks, not random nails. The cement floor was clean.

"Wow," Mason murmured, "Not even an oil or grease stain."

When an upstairs' light came on in the house next door, Nick nudged them to get back in the car. Georgie looked back over her shoulder, and saw Nick snap off a leaf from the nearest shrub and stick it on the track of the garage door. "He comes home, we'll know."

Chapter twelve

After pouring each of the men a cup of coffee, Georgie poured one for herself and sat down at the kitchen table. For a moment no one said anything, nor did they drink. Who would've thunk it, she thought, her dull predictable life suddenly turning into this.

But it had.

"I say we stake out the place," Nick said, finally taking a hefty drink. "He's bound to come home sooner or later."

"And when the neighbors call the police?" Georgie asked.

Nick's mouth pulled to the side, and looked to Mason. "That's right. Dudley Do-Right won't be at work. There goes my inside contact."

It took a second, Georgie burying her face in her hands, and her elbows on the table, before Nick's words sunk in, and Mason's eyes snapped wide. His eyebrows arched high as he set down his cup and let his full weight drop back against the seat. "The Mad OB/GYN calls me M&M. You call me Badge 747, and the Spook, here, calls me Dudley Do-Right?"

"Mad OB/GYN!" Nick burst out, choking on his coffee, then sobered. "God, don't ever let Cassie hear you call her that. She will hurt you, my man. I am talking deep pain."

"If it's any consolation," Georgie tried to undo the damage. "I now call you Mason... or Officer Montgomery. And what are you talking about? You call him Spook, and Cassie the Mad OB/GYN. And let's not forget you calling me, George."

"All terms of endearment," Mason defended.

"Uh huh."

"I think I'll take a drive over to Jeffrey's tomorrow," Nick said, bringing them all back to the now.

When Georgie opened her mouth to protest, he raised his hands to assure her. "Just to have a look."

"Promise you won't talk to him." When he refused to answer, she persisted. "Give me your word, and if you break it, I swear I'll never forgive you, and you can just find another place to call home, Mr. Underwood."

"Aww, Georgie Girl."

The hurt in his face stabbed her, and she grasped his shoulder. "Oh, Nick, I didn't mean it the way it came out... I..."

"God, you are so easy," he laughed with a tug to her hair.

With a loud groan of being had once more by him, Georgie gave Nick a sharp shove. "Damn you! But just promise me."

"Okay, okay."

"Tell you what," Mason said. "After I get through with The R.B., and the department shrink, we'll both swing by the place," then motioned with spread hands to stress, "just to take a look. I'll keep him out of trouble... and me. Promise."

"The lamb taking care of the wolf," she said. "I can see that's going to work."

"What a minute," Nick put in. "Which one of us is the lamb?"

"Nick!" Georgie glared at him.

"Okay." He drew back, hands up in surrender. "Not important. Not important."

"I can see there's no stopping either of you. Better you go together, I guess. But I want it noted that I told you it is a bad idea."

"It is noted," Mason said.

After a second round of coffee, Georgie pointed at Nick. "You will say nothing of this to the kids on Saturday."

Nick swore his oath while crossing his heart, but she could tell he wasn't liking the idea. Without looking at her, he went to put his cup in the sink then stood there leaning against the counter. Mason also stood then slipped on his jacket. Georgie wasn't ready to have him leave, but knew there was nothing to hold him.

"You want to come to dinner tomorrow night?" she asked him, and thought, My God, who said that? It couldn't have been me. But it had been her, and all she could do now was follow through.

"Dinner?"

"Very simple gathering," she explained. "My two kids, one spouse, one crazy..."

"I resent that," Nick put in.

"And Cassie and April," she finished, ignoring Nick's comment. "About seven o'clock. Oh. It never occurred to me. Being Saturday night, you probably already have a date." She swallowed hard and forced herself to say, "You can bring her, if you like."

He said nothing for a moment then smiled at her. "If I must bring a date, can it be you?" But then looked to Nick then back at her. "Unless you already have a date."

Nick was quick to defend with a burst of a laugh while pointing to himself with spread his fingers on his chest, then waved off the notion. "Me? Oh, no, no, no. I'm just spending the night with her." His grin was wide.

"Nick," she started to plea, but rubbed her forehead instead, resigned to what she could not change, and hoped Mason would understand. To make more of the remark would worsen it. She shied a glance at Mason.

He was keeping his sight on Nick, and to her surprise, his mouth pulled into a smile before pointing a finger. "If you were any other man, I'd make sure you went out the door with me. But tonight? I'm glad she has someone other than Daisy and Max."

Nick's face scrunched up in the most tragic hurtful mask. "You know, I don't know which I find more offensive, being called crazy or considered benign. Thank you very much, you two."

The leather felt cold as Mason looped his arm around hers. "Walk me to my car," he asked, then helped her into her coat.

As she led the way to the living room, Mason and Nick touched knuckles in passing. Nick looked at her but offered no comment. Daisy followed them outside. Even with her coat on Georgie shivered in the cold night. She had to get herself a good Parka, she thought. The days and nights were promising an extra cold winter.

Mason's cell phone went off. He stopped, pulled it out of his belt holder, and flipped it open. "Montgomery."

There was a pause and she thought he would move away to talk, but he didn't. She took a step to offer him privacy, but he took hold of her coat lapel and kept her near him.

"I'm fine," he said into the phone, and Georgie was certain it was a woman's voice at the other end. "I'm with friends. No. Don't worry. The end result would have been the same if you'd been there. Guilt has no place here."

Tonie, Georgie thought, and her stomach tightened. She had no right to feel this way. Tonie was his partner, but the twist was there nonetheless.

"The Review Board thought administrative leave was best. Yeah, it sucks, but it's procedure. I'm fine with it."

As he spoke, he reached out and pushed aside a strand of hair the breeze had brushed across Georgie's forehead and eyes. More than anything, Georgie wanted to lean into the gesture and feel the hand, its warmth.

"The Board will have another shot at me in the morning," he said into the phone, "then I go see the shrink. I.A.? I can't see any reason for Internal Affairs to be called in. The guy's still alive, but if they do step in, I'm okay with that too. My Rep. will be there. No. Shrinks don't bother me."

The clouds separated and Georgie watched the moon cast its silver blue light on his smile as he looked down at her. A rush of heat took her breath away. Tonie might have intruded on their time, but he was here, and his words to his partner were just that, words of response.

"There's no worry. The Department will temp you with someone while I'm out," he said. Georgie held eye contact. "Probably Roberts. He's a good man. I have to go now. Yeah. G'nite."

He flip shut the phone then placed it back in its holder. Georgie didn't object when his hand went beneath the open collar of her coat and reached behind her neck to bring her close. She thought he was going to kiss her, but he didn't. His thumb toyed with the back of her ear, unsettling a peace she had let lie undisturbed for almost three years.

"Were you happy in your marriage?" His voice was soft, his features showing true interest.

"Very."

"No hesitation," he smiled, and let his hand slide away. "That's good."

He walked through the gate, turned, and waited until she set the lock. He leaned over the fence and murmured with a grin, "Keep Mr. Spook on the couch."

"I heard that," Nick called from the porch.

"Nick!"

"I was just wondering what was taking so long," he said with overdone loud noises of shivering. "It's cold out here."

"Then go inside and turn up the thermostat," she told him, then looked at Mason in apology, but he only grinned in return. "Saturday night?" she asked.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Cliché," she said, "Such a cliché."

"True," he smiled, gave a quick glance to the porch, then held up her chin. "But sometimes, it can't be said any other way."

Though the night was cold and the contact light, his lips were warm on hers, not consuming or demanding, just tender. Since the day Sam last kissed her, she had not felt another man's lips on hers. All too quick Mason raised his head, let a finger slide down her jaw line. As he walked to his car, Georgie felt he was taking a part of her with him, a part she hadn't realized she was ready to let go.

The gravel noted his every step, each one sounding farther and farther away. When he opened the 4Runner's door, he called back. "It's cold. Go get warm."

"Night," she said, and went up the steps to her porch. She let Daisy in the house, but waited at the door for Mason's taillights to move onto the road.

Inside, Nick was already stretched out on the couch, drapes open. The only light in the room was coming from the kitchen. Georgie took off her coat and hung it on the peg. From her linen closet, she pulled out a warm blanket and pillow. She dropped them on his face, and sat in her recliner to look out the window at Portland's nightline. For the first time in three years, she found herself missing the crackle of burning wood in the fireplace.

"The amenities in this household have taken a nose dive," he said, tucking the pillow under his head, then shook out the blanket to cover himself. "Not even a fire in the fireplace."

Georgie would not let herself smile. "There are two spare bedrooms you could choose from."

"Nah. You know me. I'm fine here," he said, adjusting his long body on the couch, then patted the blanket. "Why not tell the kids about what's going on? They're adults."

"Why worry them over something that could be nothing," she said. "A figment of your over-active imagination."

"Yeah, right."

"I don't think you're right about Jeffrey. What could I have done to make him want to do that? No. Something's not right."

"You're the writer. Put together a scenario. I think he's had a thing for you even before Sam died. Which I'm still very pissed off at Sam for... getting himself killed like that."

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

"Sorry," he said. After a moment, he sighed deeply, loudly, and said, "But at least now, I don't expect him to walk in the door."

Yes, she knew that feeling too. When had she stopped expecting Sam to come in from the other room with a crossword puzzle question? Or stopped waiting for him to drive up the road? Walk into the shop with a sandwich or tickets for a movie?

Strange that she should feel such calm. Her fingers touched her lips before she knew she'd lifted her hand. If Nick noticed, he said nothing. There were times she could not shut him up, yet he always seemed to know when it was best to say nothing.

"And what if it is what you think?" she asked, changing the subject. "What can the kids do about it? Come back home? Drop their lives and come home? No."

The train whistle sent its lonely call up into the hills.

"And if someone wants to cause me harm," she added, "I will not put my kids in the line of fire."

"They'll be madder than hell when they find out and you didn't tell them."

"I'll deal with it then," she said.

"Okay. I'll probably be long gone by then and the fallout will be all yours to handle. Now, what about Dudley Do-Right?"

She glared at him.

His hand popped up to hold off any tirade she might throw at him. "Apology. What about Officer Montgomery, or can I call him Mason? Don't you think the kids will notice him at your simple gathering? I mean... he won't be related to anyone, and there he'll be. Call me stupid, but I think they'll notice."

Georgie laughed even as she scolded herself not to encourage him. "Nick, shut up."

"Can I make one suggestion?" he asked, putting his hands behind his head, his sight set on the ceiling.

"Can I stop you?"

He lifted his head. Even in the low light coming from the kitchen and now the night-light in the hallway on auto-timer, she could see his narrowed eyes.

"Spare me your indignation," she told him. "It's an ill-fitting suit on you."

He let his head drop back into the pillow and shifted on the couch. "As a man to man, I should warn Officer Montgomery about your bitchy personality. It's certainly unbecoming. You've gone to seed, Georgie Girl, gone to seed. It's no wonder Mild Mannered Jeffrey wants to do you in."

Georgie reached behind her, pulled out the pillow and threw it at him. He didn't bother trying to dodge it. He just caught it and placed it behind his head so he could look at her.

"You want to hear my suggestion or not?" he asked.

"No, not really. Where is Cantell Electronics sending you now?"

"Won't know until I see my ticket."

"How long will you be gone this time?" she asked, but knew she would get the same answer she and Sam always got each time they asked.

"How ever long the problem or sale takes." He pulled the blanket up under his chin. "I'm going to tell you my suggestion anyway."

"Never doubted it for a minute. Tell me your pearls of wisdom, oh Wise Sage."

"When you introduce Officer Montgomery to the kids, don't call him your friend."

"Why not?" she demanded. "He is a friend. Don't you think tonight proved that? Who else but a friend would put his job on the line by going with a lunatic to Jeffrey's house in the middle of the night?"

"A guy who wants to be more than a friend, to start."

"Time for bed," she said, sitting up in the recliner, and got up. She tapped him on the head as she went by. "Goodnight, oh Great Sage. Nice to have you home. The remote is next to the TV if you want to watch it."

"Georgie Girl?"

"Yes?"

"You should consider taking off your wedding rings."

Chapter thirteen

By the time Georgie woke up and let Daisy out, Nick was already gone, his blanket neatly folded on the couch with the one pillow on top. The pillow she'd thrown at him was back on her recliner. She hadn't even heard the motorcycle start. Probably rolled it down the drive before starting it, she thought, and went into the shower hoping it would wake her up.

Coffee, she thought, once out of the shower and blowing her hair dry, then decided, nope... espresso was what she needed. Something with a kick in it. She would have to ask Parker for his secret recipe. When she took out her favorite oatmeal bowl, there was a piece of paper inside it with 7:00 written on it in Nick's unmistakable scrawl, a line across the number seven. She smiled and tossed it on the counter, caught sight of her wedding rings and rolled them with her thumb. Nick's words crept their way back, an echo in the distance, You should consider taking off your wedding rings.

Easy for you to say, she thought and sighed, easy for you to say. Firmly putting that aside, she concentrated on the evening to come. She would have to stop at the store on the way home. What started out as a foursome had now turned into a simple gathering, leaving her with more food to buy.

As she poured out last night's coffee, her rings clinked on the glass pot and she slipped them off her finger to hold them up to the daylight. Oh, Sam, she thought, and sighed with a small smile.

She caught sight of Daisy. That back end of the yard had become the Schnauzer's place to investigate lately. Back and forth she went, and always going back to the far left corner of the yard.

"What is with that?" Georgie murmured, set down the rings on the sill so she could slide open the window to call the dog when the phone rang.

"Hi, Mom," Paula said.

"Good morning to you too."

"Just thought I'd call and ask if you wanted us to bring anything?"

"I think I have it taken care of," Georgie said, putting water into the pan for her oatmeal. "By the way, it'll be a few more people for this evening. Hope that's okay."

"Oh, sure."

There was just a hint of a pause and Georgie thought to ask what was up, when Paula asked, "Mom, have you noticed a change in Steven?"

"Like what?"

"Not sure. Just something."

"Hmm. I'll know more when I cut his hair."

"I think you use cutting our hair to sneak peek into our heads."

"It's taken you this long to find out my secret?"

"Okay, Mom, okay. About seven then. Love you."

"Love you too." But Georgie knew they'd be here at six, ready to help get the whole thing together. She had always heard that when your children arrive early for gatherings it meant they enjoyed coming home. And this warmed her as no coat could.

~~0~~

Georgie was glad her day at Dare To Care was busy. It helped she to ignore the shop TV. The main topic of the day: the shooting of a man by the police officer, as yet unnamed.

"What were they thinking?" the public interviews went on. "Were they out of control, these police officers? They were just too eager to fire their weapons."

Georgie had heard it all, not just this time, but many times before in other incidents. And, normally, Georgie would have jumped right on it. It always amazed her what the public asked of in their police officers. Put your life on the line, but don't defend yourself. Let yourself be stoned, but don't defend. Put yourself on the line of fire, but don't fire back too soon.

"It's all about the money, Georgie," Sam used to say. "When a person decides to do wrong, they suddenly have more rights than the person they have done the wrong to. A criminal can be the worst to be had, but when he's dead, he suddenly becomes this kind and wonderfully gentle misunderstood person, and valuable in a lawsuit. It's all about the money. The moment they say it's not about the money... you know it is."

All Georgie could think of was Mason having to make the decision to shoot, and the weight of sadness in his voice as he spoke to Nick. What if the man dies? She thought.

"I wonder what your Officer Montgomery has to say about this?" Emmee asked.

"What?" Georgie almost jumped. She was washing out her color bottle when Emmee poked her head around the corner.

"You think he knows the officer?"

"I don't know," Georgie answered, forcing a weak smile. "I'll have to ask him next time I see him."

"Then you are going to see him again?"

There was eagerness in Emmee's voice, and Georgie nearly told her what all had gone on, but thought better of it. There was really nothing there to talk about, was there? A night's adventure was just that... a night. But this shooting was going to be with Mason for a long time. They would release his name soon enough. She just wished the touch of his lips on hers was not so, so...

"So are you?"

"What? Oh, Emmee, don't go there."

"Okay. I just think you..."

The shop's door opened with its ping. Emmee jerked her head back to see. "Oh, oh."

"What is it?" Georgie asked.

"Something I never thought I would see," Emmee murmured, eyes wide in awe.

Georgie leaned over to take a look and her mouth began to drop open.

"Hi, Steven," Brandy was saying as she looked over at Georgie. When she made eye contact with Georgie, Brandy quickly returned to the blow-dry she was working on. But Georgie could see her stylist's sight lift to look into the mirror as Steven walked past her with a girl on his arm.

Well, this is a turn of events, Georgie thought, and dried her hands.

"Hey, Mom," Steven said, letting go of the girl to kiss Georgie on the top of her head. His arm wrapped about her shoulders to bring her to the forefront. "Mom, this is Lucy McBradey."

Lucy reached out a hand and Georgie took it. "Hello."

"Lucy," Steven said, "My sister, Paula, and I call this woman, Mom, but her name is Georgina. Most call her Georgie though."

"You can pick which ever one you like," Georgie told Lucy. "This is Emmee, who's been with me the longest and always on the verge of being fired for her insubordination, and that over there is Brandy. Girls, this is Lucy."

Both girls said, "Hi," back, but it was Emmee who added, "The Boss Lady's harmless, Lucy. Just humor her like we do and you'll be fine."

"See what I mean?" Georgie said, then looked to Steven. "Okay, get in the chair. I'm ready. You too Lucy. Have a seat. Any chair."

As she cut Steven's hair, Georgie speculated; this explained the change in him that Paula and she had questioned. Lucy was the last thing Georgie would have guessed. Seems the no-time-for-girls guy had finally stopped to take a breath, Georgie thought, and took a quick glance at Lucy. She could certainly see why her son had stopped to smell this flower. Lucy was a breath-taker, but in a very unassuming way.

Through the years Georgie had seen many women and girls, and there were those that knew they were beautiful and used it. And there were those that had no clue just how attractive they were or could be. Georgie saw nice clean skin beneath what little make-up Lucy was wearing. Her soft brown hair, sporting some well done highlights, was pulled up into a top knot with a clip holding it together. Her clear brown eyes softened when she smiled.

"So who all is going to be at this soiree, of yours?" Steven asked.

"Actually it's your little to-do, and it'll be the same old group, family." Georgie smiled, but kept her eyes on the hair as she kept cutting. "You'll have to stop at the store with me. There's some extra things I need to get. Think we can still barbecue under the patio? Free-up the kitchen for some other stuff, and we'll need the extra leaf for the table."

"Sure," he said, "Not a problem."

"Where's the Raggedy Ann doll?" Lucy asked, glancing about. At Georgie's quick look, Lucy explained. "Steven told me all about her. I work in the Cancer Ward, and that is such a great idea. The bonding during that traumatic time can't be stressed enough."

Georgie kept cutting. So Lucy was in the medical field. Very interesting, Georgie thought. "So you're in the cancer ward. Are you a nurse? Doctor?" she asked, hoping it would stop her questions about Raggs.

"Actually I'm a nurse who's working her way through med-school to be a doctor, then medical research after that."

"Hooray for you!"

"Mom? Where is Raggs?"

Well, that took care of that, she thought. This would be one secret she wouldn't be able to keep from the kids. She took the last snip in the cut, took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to tell the tale and minimize it. But how could she do that to Raggs? She used up time checking the cut with her fingers.

"Boss Lady," Emmee called from the door, "We're calling it a weekend. The OPEN sign's off and all is well. Nice meeting you, Lucy. You guys have a great dinner."

"Nice meeting you, Lucy." Brandy hurried behind Emmee. "I hope they find Raggs."

Emmee bopped Brandy on the head. "You have got such a big mouth."

"What'd I say?" Brandy mumbled as they both walked out the door.

"Mom?"

Georgie used the blow dryer to send hair clippings caught on the drape and the nape to the floor. Once that was done, they moved to the shampoo bowls so she could wash his hair.

"Mom? Are you going to tell me?" Steven asked as he sat back at her station.

She did her best to explain as she towel dried his hair. "It happened Wednesday night. Someone came in while the girls were here in the back and took Raggs."

"Aw, Mom," Steven said, running his fingers through his hair, pushing it into place.

With a shrug, Georgie took off the drape and he stood up.

"But you did call the cops, right?"

"Yes. They sent someone out." If Steven noticed her hesitation, he gave no sign. "They're looking into it, you know, checking to see if anyone saw anything and if any other businesses had a theft that night."

She grabbed her coat, turned off the lights, and patted her son's arm. He was as tall as his dad; maybe taller, as all sons should be. "But I have to accept the fact a Raggedy Ann doll might not be a priority on their list. I just hope whoever has her doesn't... well... I hope they take care of her." She choked back the threatening tears as Steven hugged her.

"We better get going," he said, then leaned over to pull Lucy into the hug.

~~0~~

Hearing the car in the gravel driveway a second before headlights shone through the tall slender window beside the table, Georgie said, "That sounds like Paula and Ryan."

"But it's only six," Steven said as he dipped and turned the chicken in their favorite marinating brine.

"I know." Georgie smiled, feeling very pleased with her children.

As Georgie wiped her hands, she noticed Lucy touching her hair, looking down at her clothes and smoothing out none existent wrinkles. Steven went to Lucy's side and pulled her to him to add his assurance.

"You're fine," Georgie told the young woman and went out the kitchen door to activate the garage door opener and greet her daughter.

As always, Paula and Ryan were loaded down with extras: drinks, snacks and chips. Georgie took a paper sack from Paula and whispered, "You were right about a change in Steven."

"Is it bad?"

Georgie burst into laughter, then sobered. "No. At least I hope not. Hey, Ryan. Hope all is well."

"Always, Mrs. G.," he said with a hug, then followed her up the steps to the kitchen.

"Guys," Steven started in immediately, before any of them had a chance to unload their bags. "This is Lucy McBradey. We're a... a thing, sort'a."

"A thing? Sort'a?" Lucy asked, eyes blinking wide, mouth slightly opened in disbelief. Steven gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Yeah," he smiled. "A thing." And Georgie thought he was ready to burst.

The always-in-control Paula, now half laughed, took Lucy's hand, and patted it in sympathy as her face became this overdone sad, sad frown. "Oh, you poor thing. How in the world did my brother trap you?"

"I'm beginning to wonder that myself," Lucy said.

"Thanks, Sis. Love you too," Steven scolded, his eyebrow arching high. "Lucy, this is Paula and her far, far better half, Ryan."

They all said their hellos as the sound of vehicles arriving made its way through the still open garage and kitchen door. Georgie's heart started to race as she went to stand on the first step to watch them drive up and come to a stop. Don't introduce him as your friend, Nick had suggested. Okay... so what was she supposed to say?

Cassie and April's BMW drove in with Nick right behind them.

"That's a motorcycle," Paula said, hands on Georgie's shoulders, trying to see over her head. "Who do you know on a motorcycle?"

"That would be Nick," Georgie said, as Nick drove directly into the garage with an ear piercing roar, dismounted, and took off his helmet, but Georgie was searching for another vehicle.

"Uncle Nick on a bike?" Steven asked from the kitchen. "That's not a bike. That's a Harley. Awesome."

"Oh, Lord," Paula said, "The Bad Penny's come home."

The car Georgie was waiting for made the circle and parked. With her pulse booming in her ears, Georgie went down the steps and out the garage to meet Mason. She didn't need her coat.

"Who's that?" Paula asked behind her.

Chapter fourteen

As Georgie watched Mason get out of his car, she wondered the same thing. Who was this? And how does he fit in my life?

"Hey, M&M," Cassie called out, her voice filled with mischief, and Georgie had the urge to flee from the evening.

"Good to see you," he answered back, and slowed his stride so Cassie and April could walk beside him, but his eyes were on her, and Georgie smiled back.

"April," Cassie was saying, "this is the infamous M&M you've heard me talk about. This is April, my soul mate in life."

"April," Mason said, extending his hand. "I shudder to think what she's said about me."

"All good," April said, "Trust me."

Georgie slowed her step. There was no hesitation in him, no facial change that she could see in the light from the porch and garage. Until this moment, it never occurred to her that Mason might not accept Cassie and April as a couple. It appeared he had, but was it mere politeness? She hoped not.

"Hi, guys," Georgie said, almost reaching for Mason, wanting physical contact with him, but rubbed her arms instead.

"It's cold out here, George," Mason said. "What are you doing without a coat?"

"Then let's go inside," she said, making a quick turn before she did reach for him. Last night may have been nothing more than a moment. Cassie did a double step to catch up to her while Mason and April walked behind them.

"This is nice," Cassie whispered, leaning into her.

"Cassie," April warned, "behave."

Cassie waved that she heard, but Georgie doubted Cassie would follow the request. It just wasn't in her friend to let such a moment pass. Cassie looped her arm around Georgie's as they made their way to the garage where Steven and Ryan were looking over Nick's motorcycle. As they entered, Nick nodded at April, looked to Mason, but neither offered anything more. Georgie wanted to ask them about Jeffrey, but bit her lip instead.

"You know," Steven was saying, "If Mom had let me, I would have gotten one of these years ago."

"Right," Georgie said. "Blame it on mean old Mommy. Let's go inside so we can get all the intros done in one sweep." She took a pinch of Mason's jacket and held him back. When he leaned down to her, she whispered, "What happened at Jeffrey's?"

"Mom? You coming?"

"Yes, Steven," she said, and motioned Mason to go in. As they made their way up the two steps to the kitchen she activated the switch to close the garage door.

Once inside she stood beside Mason and looked about the room. They were all suddenly strangers, waiting, and she took a deep deep breath. "Okay," she started out. "New comers to our little family to-do this evening; this is Lucy McBradey, Steven's friend."

"He said, thing," Lucy said, her brown eyes playful. "I was his Thing... " Then motioned finger quotation marks to underscore. "Sort'a."

"Some clarity here," Steven rushed in to save himself. "I said we. We were a thing. Big difference." And gave Lucy a firm squeeze.

Friendly chuckles fluttered over the room and slowly ebbed. The moment had arrived, and Georgie swallowed hard. "And this is Mason Montgomery. He's in the writing class with Cassie and me. Mason, this is my family; Paula, my daughter and mother-to-be of my first grandchild, and her hubby, Ryan Sheldon. My son, Steven, the doctor-to-be, and Lucy. Lucy, this is Cassie and her April."

"Her April?" April asked. "Sounds like you own me."

"You got it," Cassie confirmed as she leaned into April with a nudge.

Georgie noticed the small twitch in Lucy's eyes at Cassie and April's introduction, but let it slide. "Everyone know everyone?" she asked.

Nick cleared his throat politely, and Georgie smiled. "I was saving you for last. This is Nick Underwood, Prince Of The Insane, but Cassie and I would have him no other way."

"And you thought your intro was bad," he told April.

For a heartbeat, no one said anything until Steven broke the silence. "Well, let's get this to-do going. I'll get the barbecue started." He went through the laundry room and out to the patio with Lucy at his side. Georgie caught the young woman's quick backward glance.

"Georgie Girl," Nick murmured, bringing her out of her deep thought. "Can I take a shower?"

"Sure," Georgie told him. "I'll get you some towels."

They went down the hall. Nick did a quick step into the living room where he pulled out a small satchel from behind the couch then hurried to catch up with her, minus his jacket. When she gave him two large towels, he whispered, "You dodged the bullet on that one, Georgie Girl."

"Try not to drown," she told him.

"Don't let me forget my jacket. It's behind the couch. And you'd better go save Mason. Paula has her cross-hairs out and Dudley Do-Right is dead center."

"And you're going to go hide in the shower?"

"Damn right, Georgie Girl, damn right." He closed the door with a smile.

Georgie sighed and made her way to the kitchen, and like before, the voices reached her. She listened, thinking Nick was right. She was an eavesdropper.

"So you're a writer?" Paula was asking Mason while unpacking the groceries.

"Writer-wanna-be," he answered. "Your mom's the writer."

Georgie almost spoke up, but Paula went on. "Yes, she is. And when you're not a writer-wanna-be?"

"Oh, such subtlety, Counselor," Steven said, popping in from outside through the laundry room. "You want to know something, flat out ask the man."

Georgie moved closer to where she could see them, but unless they turned, they could not see her.

Paula had the good grace to blush before returning to her unpacking, but it was Steven that now held Georgie's concern. Something had happened out on the patio. The earlier spark was now gone from his voice and mood. As Lucy stepped in, he gave her a sharp look, then softened it immediately.

So she hadn't imagined it, Georgie thought. Great. Couldn't life just leave this family alone? Bite your tongue, Georgie. Bite your tongue.

April was in the corner seat at the table, letting the whole thing unwind while Cassie, like always, stood near by ready to defend whomever might have need. Ryan was also in a corner, but against the counter and near Paula.

"Steven, you can be so, so..." Paula turned around to face her brother, but Georgie stepped out. "Mom."

"What's going on?" Georgie asked, with as much bubbly as she could muster and went to stand by Mason. "I know my children, who have been the pride of their dad's and my life, would never be rude to a guest in this house."

"We were just..." Paula tried to explain.

"We?" Steven laughed, waving a defensive finger. "No, no, no, dear sister. You are all alone on this one."

"She's your mom too, Turkey."

"Paula," Georgie started out, wanting her daughter to stop, but when she felt Mason's hand on her shoulder, she was the one who stopped. That she had taken Mason's lead on this did not go unnoticed by those around her.

He then motioned a gentle, but firm, offering that they all stop, making her think of the stereotype police negotiator of films. Georgie caught sight of a shoe tip in the hall. Nick. And she breathed in relief, certain he was going to come in and help, but the shoe disappeared. Ryan too did not enter the confrontation. Rightly so, she realized. This was about the Gainsworths. A moment later Georgie heard the shower come on.

"I think I can put some issues to rest here," Mason said. "My name is Mason Madison Montgomery..."

"Three Ms?" Cassie asked.

"Cassie, sit down." April's voice was calm as she tugged at Cassie's sleeve, but Cassie merely brushed aside the urging grasp.

"I'm in your mother's writing class," Mason went on. "When I am not in class, I'm writing. When I'm not writing, I am serving and protecting the fine citizens of Portland."

"You're a policeman?" Steven asked, half laughing. "Go get him, sis."

"But I want you to know," Mason quickly added, "I would like very much, and I hope you're all okay with it, to date your mother."

Georgie felt her lips part in awe.

"Where it goes from there," he added, "will be between her and me."

"But you're married," Paula said, pointing to his hand.

"Paula!" Georgie scolded, but once more Mason's hand lay gentle on her shoulder.

"You can take off the ring," Paula went on in a softer tone, "but the stain is still there."

"Oh, man," Steven said.

Though Georgie heard a mixture of disappointment and pain in her son's voice, all she could do was stare at Mason's hand, at the pale ring on the finger where the sun had been kept out. Mason too was looking down at it.

"I guess I forgot to put it back on this morning," he said.

Instinctively, Georgie's thumb felt for her own rings and realized she'd never put them back on after looking at them this morning. Daisy had distracted her, as had Paula's phone call. Or... had it been Sam? The thought lay comfortably on her mind.

"My wife died four years ago," Mason said.

Time lay suspended, accenting Paula's soft, "Oh."

Georgie's heart thumped against her ribs. Steven walked to his sister's side and hugged her. It was times like this that her heart swelled with pride at the job Sam had done in teaching Steven the rites to being a man, the older brother, the pillar Georgie and Paula had needed when Sam died.

"Be happy for her, Counselor," Steven murmured.

Georgie heard Paula take a deep shaky breath a moment before she side-stepped her brother and came to Mason.

"It's not you, Mr. Montgomery. It would be anyone standing where you are now. I knew it might happen one day." She shrugged and raised her eyebrows with a touch of innocence Georgie hadn't seen in her daughter for a long time. "I just thought it would be some time tomorrow, not today. You know?"

Mason offered Paula a nod and a smile. "I think I do. You can drop the Mr. and call me Mason, if you want, or not."

Paula blinked, her face a multitude of emotions, then slowly extended her hand.

Nick walked into the kitchen with a grin, hair still dripping. That was one quick shower, Georgie thought as he rubbed the towel over his head, then tossed it into the hamper just inside the laundry room door.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair to comb it, and Georgie had to admit, he had his innocent look perfected.

"No," Paula said. "Just me being a brat."

Nick hugged her and said, "Well, Counselor, so long as you don't do that in the courtroom, you're all right."

"Okay," Steven said, regaining some of his lighter mood. "Let's say we get back to partying? And Mom, what's Daisy's fascination with the back fence? Hope you don't have a coyote up there. It was big, whatever it was. Lucy and I heard it scurry off."

Nick's head snapped up, eyes narrowed, then quickly corrected himself, but not before Georgie noticed, and when she looked up at Mason, she saw he too had noticed.

"They normally don't come down this far," Nick said. "But neighbor dogs might do a little roaming." He went into the living room and came out slipping into his jacket. He motioned Mason to follow, then looked to Steven. "Come on. I'll show you how to really cook a chicken."

"Oh, like you do a lot of barbecuing," Steven said.

"At least when I barbecue, I cook real meat."

"Red meat's not good for you, Uncle Nick."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Nick grumbled. "Come on, let's see what you've got going out here."

Mason walked out after the two men and Lucy, taking with him the room's heat and Georgie rubbed her arms as she watched them go out the door. She then went to the sink to look out the window. Mason stood by Nick as he poked and basted the cooking dinner while laughing with Steven. Lucy stood nearby. There was something about the way she stood, arms wrapped about herself... aloneness, lonely and alone. After a moment Mason and Nick made their way to the left corner of the yard, where Daisy still paced, her attention set on the trees and wild ivy growing up the slope. The men's walk was a slow meander, now and then glancing at each other.

"I'm sorry, Mom."

Georgie strained to hear the men even though she knew she'd have to open the window to do so. They leaned into each other, Nick's arm indicating the area to the left of the property. He must be talking about the road curving up the foothill.

"Mom?"

"What? Oh. Paula, you have nothing to be sorry about," Georgie said, feeling guilty at her lack of attention, but she kept glancing at the two men.

"He seems nice," Paula said.

The sadness in Paula's voice jolted Georgie. Grief shadowed those beautiful features, her hazel eyes afraid to meet hers, and Georgie hugged her daughter with a whisper, "Yes, he is. I know he's not Daddy, but he is nice."

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

Paula was reaching to the wide windowsill above the sink, and picked up Georgie's wedding rings. "You took off your rings too."

Georgie took them, held them between her fingers. "I slipped them off this morning to look at them for just a minute." She looked into Paula's eyes, cupped her face in her hands and sighed. "And I think your Dad, decided it was time to leave them off." With a smile, she placed the engagement ring on Paula's finger. "Your Dad would want you to have it. I'll save the wedding band for Steven for whatever he wants to do with it." She slipped the gold band into her pant pocket then looked to Paula. "If it's okay with you."

Paula's arms wrapped around her, and she whispered in a shaky voice. "Yeah. Of course it's okay."

Georgie glanced over at Cassie. April gave her a thumbs up while Cassie brushed fingertips to the corner of her eyes then came to hug them.

"You guys," she murmured with an extra pat to each, then went back to April's side.

Steven and Lucy came in, together yet not, and Georgie knew they were merely doing their best to get through the evening. She imagined they were going to have a long talk afterward, and decided to wait before giving her son the gold band in her pocket. He didn't need to deal with this tonight. The time would show itself.

"Chicken won't be long," he said, while giving his sister a stern hug. "Hope all is going well in here."

"It's going good," Paula smiled back, then went to Ryan for a quick embrace.

"That's my girl," Ryan said, pressing Paula's head to his chest with a gentle pat.

Mason and Nick entered, both smiling, but Georgie thought their grins pasted caricatures over worried faces. Questions itched to be asked, but she swallowed them. This evening would be a long one and there was no way to hurry it. She would just have to wait it out.

"Well, we'd better start the salad," Georgie said, bending down to pull out a large bowl.

"Mom?" Paula asked. "What's wrong with your neck? Looks like scratch marks."

Steven walked over to have his look, touching the marks. "Mom? Those are scratches."

Georgie slid her hand over her neck, pushing aside her children's hands. She had been so nervous about Mason meeting her children she had forgotten all about the scratches.

Chapter fifteen

Though the welts were gone, Georgie could still feel the scraped skin; the area still tender to the touch. Great. How was she going to explain it?

"I don't know about anyone else," Nick said, "but I'm hungry. You want to know more about those scratches, you'd better feed me."

"If The Bad Penny had anything to do with them," Paula said, sliding out the cutting board, "I hope you used heavy duty sterilizer."

Cassie laughed while working the garlic seasoning into the butter for the sliced bread. "She's got you pegged," she told Nick.

Nick tugged at Paula's hair in payment. "You're picking up your mother's sharp tongue. I'd keep a rein on it, Ryan."

"Oh, right away on that," Ryan said, folding up the last of the paper sacks.

Georgie held back any retort. Nick was defusing the moment, and Mason was following their lead by also saying nothing. Already Steve and Paula were entering the depths of getting the meal together, their mood very much like that of the children Sam insisted cook meals on those special weekends. "Don't want you two starving when you get out on your own into the unsuspecting world," he would say, and he taught them the best. He was a gourmet.

"What did Doctor Eckert say?" Cassie asked Paula, adding her support in the change of subject.

Paula leaned into Cassie with a nudge. "Everything is A-okay. I go see her again next month. I still wish you were my doctor."

"No can do, Kiddo. You know that. If I were any closer to you, I'd be your mother. But I'll be there. Never doubt that." She turned and Georgie saw that mischievous twinkle. "We'll all be there to make sure Ryan doesn't pass out."

"Good thing my ego isn't made of glass," Ryan said, wrapping his arm around Paula.

Lucy remained within the motions of the group, but cautious, almost reserved, until she excused herself to use the guest bathroom.

Cassie leaned into Steven with an elbow jab. "It's okay, Dr. Steven," Cassie whispered, and winked at Georgie. "Life is too short to let other people's hang-ups harm you in there." She poked at his heart. "It will either pass and be a bad dream, or stay and become a wall you can't scale. Either way... it's not in your power to control. All you can do is work with the outcome."

With a nod of understanding Steven returned the elbow nudge with a quick pat on the shoulder, and they both returned to the meal at hand.

Georgie sighed deeply but said nothing. Her life would have been much harder to go on with after Sam's death were it not for this gathered group of people. Yet she hurt for her son and Paula. They both took a hit tonight; different wounds, but only they could mend those cuts. She sighed, sadly accepting the fact. It was no longer in her power to heal their hurts.

~~0~~

"But, Mom," Paula said, smoothing the cling wrap over the leftovers she had arranged on a platter, while Cassie helped load the dishwasher. "You have to report it. It is a hit-and-run."

"That's what I told her," Cassie said.

Georgie tried to listen, but once more, her attention was on Nick and Mason who were outside trailing Daisy while her Max sat in the middle of the yard looking at those gathered at the left corner.

"That parking lot is dangerous," Paula stated, and Georgie found her daughter's arms wrapped tightly around her. "I don't want to lose you, Mom. You have to be more careful when you walk out to your car. And get rid of that dark coat. I'll have to get you something bright so you can be seen." Paula finally stopped long enough to take a breath.

"I'll talk to Property Management at the next meeting about more speed bumps inserted at our end of the center," Georgie quickly put in, trying to drop the subject. "But with the skimpy info we have, I doubt the police can do anything? I've already mentioned it to Mason. He wasn't hopeful. We didn't get anything off the plates." She avoided looking at Paula, knowing that leaving out the part about no plates at all on the vehicle was the same as lying to her.

"You know, if I had walked out like that, and not looked both ways, you'd have ripped me a new one."

"Yes, I would have," she answered with a pointing finger at her daughter, then gave the barely rounded tummy a quick rub.

"Yes, well... hello. You're just as important to Steven and me. And what is with Steven and Lucy? They got sort of quiet. It's not like him to leave so early."

Georgie took a deep breath as she tossed bones in the trash. "You have to admit, we are an overwhelming crowd. It'll pass, I'm sure." At least she hoped it would.

Ryan walked in from the laundry room, rubbing his hands. "You about ready to head on out?" he asked Paula.

"Just about. What are they doing out there?"

"Oh, you know Nick." Ryan got their coats and placed them over the chairs. "He was sure he heard a noise and saw a glint of something. Swore he got a whiff of cigarette smoke."

Georgie shivered in her warm house, but said nothing. Nick might be a lunatic at times, but he wasn't an alarmist.

"With the wind picking up," Ryan continued, "I don't see how he could smell anything other than wood smoke coming out of the chimneys. Which reminds me, I'd like two cords of seasoned wood. You guys know anyone selling?"

"Yeah, on the windowsill there. The business card's in the corner, but this late in the season, you're going to pay dearly."

"I know. This is only back up. We already have our wood, but I think we might have an extra long and extra cold winter."

"You think?" Georgie asked, running a finger along the condensation on the edges of the kitchen window.

Ryan visibly shivered, and played along. "I don't know, just an odd feeling I have. Cold, it says, very cold. Anyway, if we could get the city to clear those tree branches, we wouldn't lose the power so often."

Georgie half smile. "When they finally decided what city our little area here belonged to, they got the power lines cleared. What a difference it made. But the card's there." She once more pointed to the window sill.

Paula reached for the card, and pulled out the small vase with the rose. "What's this?" Then quickly said, "Oh, Mr. Mont... I mean Mason." She carefully pushed the vase back into its corner and handed Ryan the card before slipping into her coat. Once Ryan had his coat on, Paula hugged Georgie. "I'll get used to it, Mom. Honest. He does seem very nice."

Georgie nodded and smiled.

At their car, Paula opened the door and turned. "Mom, I'm worried about Steven." Georgie saw her give the garage a quick cautious glance making sure neither Cassie nor April were there and lowered her voice. "He better be smart about this. Cassie and April are part of this family. Love him, love all of us."

"Yes, Dear." She gave Paula's shoulder a mother's rub and pat, and leaned down to look across the seat at Ryan on the passenger side of the car. "Good night."

"Night, Mrs. G."

"Night, guys," Paula called out with a quick wave towards the house.

Georgie looked back. Cassie and April had come out of the house and were making their way through the garage heading for their car. They waved back, and Georgie moved out of Paula's way so she and Ryan could drive out. After waving good-bye, she went to Cassie and April.

"So it was M&M that gave you that rose?" Cassie asked, getting into their car.

"No," Georgie said. "I have no clue who might have left it under my windshield wiper. But it wasn't Mason, nor Nick for that matter."

"Odd. But why let Paula think it was Mason."

"No reason for her to think otherwise," she told Cassie with a shrug.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Just stuff. When I put things together, I'll tell you."

"Okay. Make sure you do."

Georgie was surprised Cassie accepted this without argument or further inquiry, and so very grateful not to have to do any more explaining. This had been a long exhausting evening.

"I have to say," Cassie added as the window buzzed down and her seat belt clicked into its lock, "Mason and Nick get along together."

"God help me, they do."

April laughed as she turned the ignition key. "I swear, Georgie. You're like having a wayward child to look after."

Georgie's mouth fell open as Cassie burst into laughter. Still laughing, Cassie raised the window and the BMW drove down the driveway. A second later, Georgie too smiled at the disappearing headlights, and went back in the house.

~~0~~

"So what happened at Jeffrey's?" Georgie asked of Mason and Nick.

Neither man offered an answer. Nick was zipping up his jacket.

"Where are you going?" When Nick offered nothing, she looked to Mason. "Where is he going?"

"Just for a quick drive," Nick said, before Mason could say anything. "Won't take me but a minute."

She reached out to grab hold of his jacket, but Nick pulled away. No way was she letting this slide and latched onto his arm. "No, you don't. First, you tell me what happened at Jeffrey's."

"He never came home," Mason said, surrendering to her determination on this, and she sought Nick's confirmation.

"We drove by several times," Nick finally said with a shrug, "searching for my little lost dog..."

"Your dog?"

"Yeah, well, what can I say." He smiled and started to laugh, but cleared his throat and became serious. "Even had a couple of his neighbors looking for my precious little Pepe."

"Pepe?" she asked. "That's what you came up with?"

Nick's eyebrows scrunched to the center, feigning hurt. "I could have a doggie named Pepe."

"Pepe?"

"Yeah." Nick thrust up his chin and looked down his nose at her. "Pepe."

"The position of the garage door had not changed from last night," Mason said. Though his manner was serious, Georgie could see humor lurking behind his set mouth. "Never moved up or down. But those helpful neighbors even raised the door to look and see if Pepe might have gotten inside."

"No alarm went off," Nick said, "so the thing has to be on a timer or shut off. The leaf was still stuffed in the track, undamaged. Nothing had been moved inside, everything still very neat. Neighbors didn't seem to think anything was amiss... especially since he's started seeing a lady friend."

"He's seeing someone?"

"That's what they said."

"You go, Jeffrey," she said, then felt both men's eyes on her. "Well, it's not me. But this is getting very strange," she mused, then shook her head to free herself of their suspicions. "Now you have me doing it. Jeffrey might have gone away for the weekend for all we know... with his girlfriend. So where are you going?"

"Up the road a bit," Nick said.

"How close are you with your neighbors?" Mason asked.

Georgie shrugged. "We know each other's names; run into each other while walking during the summer. We don't hang out. They've probably already gone for the winter. Sometimes they leave before Halloween, sometimes after Thanksgiving. They have a property caretaker come in once a week to check the yard, pipes and stuff."

Nick patted his pockets and pulled out his bike key. Georgie went to stand at her door to block his exit. "What are you up to?"

"I'm just going to take a look."

"A look where?"

"Up the road, I told you."

"Now, you're being silly," she said, arms crossed.

"Daisy would have told me if someone were lurking up..." She stopped, thinking back over the last few days and nights. The warnings were there. She just took them as Daisy being territorial with another dog.

"She's been acting up, hasn't she?" Nick asked, and a frustrated breath was accented with a hard stare. "She's certainly been favoring that left corner, and it's not just tonight, is it?"

It took a second before she could meet his accusing glare. His mouth pulled to the side as he looked to Mason.

"Alright," she finally said. "You're right. She has been acting strange. I didn't get it, okay? But you have to promise me something. Whatever you find. Promise me you will tell me the truth. All of it. If it scares the hell out of me, so be it. But not knowing." She made quotation marks with her fingers. "For my own good, can be just as dangerous, even more so. I want to trust that neither of you is hiding anything from me. Understand?"

Nick shook his head, his eyebrows arched high, and he looked at Mason while holding up both palms, indicating her. "And this is what you want to get involved with?"

"Go," Mason said, and Nick took hold of her arms to move her aside before going out the door, pointing a finger at Mason.

Mason nodded, then he too stood. They even talk to each other without saying a word, Georgie thought.

But Mason didn't go anywhere. Instead, he came to her side and slipped a hand behind her neck, squeezed gently. "Think your kids will tolerate me dating their mom?"

"If not today, soon, but I'm the one you'll be dating," she smiled, pressing her head into the hold. "I think they liked you."

"I'm glad, cause I really want to see more of their mom," he said, taking her left hand to toy with the ringless finger.

The motorcycle came to life, bombarding the garage walls with its roar as it sped out.

"I need to get the flashlight out of my car," Mason said. "I'll be right back. Keep your coat on."

When he came back in, he flicked on the flashlight and put his arm around her shoulders as they walked out through the laundry room. Before going out the door into the patio, he flipped off the outdoor light. The breeze teased them as they stood at the edge of the patio next to the barbecue. Faint odors of the meal's drippings on the dying coals hung in the air until the breeze pulled it along. They had an unobstructed view of the stars on this absolutely clear night.

Mason drew her head to his chest, his cheek pressing into her hair. "You know... I considered my life pretty much settled, calm, and all but buried, except for my writing," he said. "Then I thought... I'll take my fifteen years of notes and see about a writing class. And there she was; in the corner, all composed and unassuming, sitting next to the most outspoken, capricious, redhead. Little did I know the quiet one was the central eye of chaos."

His warm hand cupped her chin and held it up. "Do you know the stars are reflected in your eyes?" He sighed, not waiting for a response. "I shudder to think where this center of calmness will take me, yet I find myself hurrying to get there. Is that crazy or what?"

Georgie wanted to reach inside his jacket and encircle herself with his warmth, like Max, curling up into his own fur. She too, thought her life quite settled and tranquil, until now. But she was not as brave as Mason, and the pain of the heart was not something she wanted to experience. Sam had never hurt her, and she had no desire to feel what she so often saw and heard from other women, and even some men while they sat in her chair as she worked on their hair. But even knowing the flame will kill it, the moth still flies to its destiny.

Oh, Georgie, she thought, what are you doing?

The roar of Nick's motorcycle pierced its way through the brush, and she looked toward the sound. Now and then a flicker of its headlight could be seen. Then, there was silence and no light, time held still, but the moment had been broken, and Mason guided her to the left corner of the yard. Daisy, having gotten there before them, sat waiting very patiently. It was a while before a ray of light jostled its way through the brush, but it was off to the side, not the left corner. Daisy stood up, her tail wagging as she whimpered.

"Mason, I need you to drive up here," Nick's voice came through before they actually saw him come through the brush. "Georgie, do you still have your camera?"

"Yes."

"The batteries still good?"

"Yes."

"Give it to Mason..."

"No," she said flat out. "I'm coming up there."

"Georgie..." Nick tried to reason.

"You don't know how to use my camera."

"There's no camera made I can't use, and you know it!"

When she felt Mason's hand on her arm, she pulled clear of it. "You both gave me your word." But the night suddenly felt colder as her breath billowed in a cloud with each word.

"Should I call this in?" Mason asked Nick.

"You come up here and tell me," he said. "My choice would be yes. It's the second small turn-around. Pull into the one across the street and walk the edge as you approach. I'm going to look around some more. Just make sure you bring that camera. There are tire tracks and footprints you don't want to mess up. Georgie Girl, I don't think..."

"I'm coming."

"God damn it, Georgie." There was a small pause, then... "It's Raggs."

Chapter sixteen

"Raggs?" Georgie spun on her heels and headed for the house. As she ran through the kitchen to the garage, Mason grabbed her arm, nearly pulling her off balance. Her fingers ached from trying to pry herself free of his grip, but he refused to let go.

"George! The camera."

It took a second for his words to sink in and she nodded. When he released her, she dashed down the hallway to the linen closet. On the middle shelf was her camera. She pulled it out of the case, but when she turned to go out, Mason stood in her path.

"George, maybe you shouldn't..."

"You either take me up there, or I'll drive myself."

He stepped aside.

Without another word, they both went out the door, but like the first night, Mason made sure she locked up behind her. To Georgie, it took forever before they spotted Nick's motorcycle. Mason pulled the 4Runner in the turnaround across the street from the bike. The car had barely stopped when Georgie unlatched the safety belt and shoved open the door. Not even bothering to look in either direction, Georgie darted across the dark quiet road as Mason shouted her name.

Just as she approached the wide dirt shoulder, Mason caught up with her. Once more she fought his firm hold as a dark form lurched out of the brush.

"Stop it!" Nick hissed, but it might as well have been a shout. "You want to destroy evidence? Act like a grown up, for goddamn sakes."

When her muscles relaxed, she felt Mason's arms loosen their grip.

"Now," Nick went on, his hand very gentle at her shoulder while he pointed to where and what he spoke of. "See? Tire tracks in this entire area. That, in itself, means nothing. No telling how many vehicles use this turnaround. But it's the same tread mark all over. Even after the rains, it still appears to be the same tires. Got a solid impression over here."

"Are you up to taking a photo?" Mason asked.

Georgie readied the camera and knelt down. The wet soft earth soaked through her sweat pants at the knee. Both Mason and Nick fixed their flashlight on the deep grooves so shadows would not distort the pattern. Once satisfied with her photos, Georgie got up.

Nick motioned for them to follow him, making sure they walked the edges of the area, and guided them to what Georgie saw was a narrow parting of the shrubs. Even in the dark, she could tell it was indeed a path recently made. Nick shone the flashlight on the ground where footprints went in both directions, fresh prints smudging others beneath. It wasn't hard to see it was the same set of shoes. When they came upon a pristine print, once more, Georgie used her camera. Nick then led them on until they reached a small clearing, hardly more than ten feet wide in either direction.

Nick turned off his flashlight and waited a moment before pointing below them. The moonlight was bright over the backyard of a house. Georgie's lips parted, her mouth dropping open. In the rustling breeze, the swinging flap of a small door echoed up a second before she heard excited barking.

Daisy.

Georgie blinked. Her large kitchen window was a light in the darkness. The more she looked at it, the more clear the features inside became. With binoculars, it would be as close as eye to eye.

That close, she thought.

"Oh, man," Mason murmured behind her, a hand on her shoulder.

At first, Georgie thought he was referring to the spy view of her house. He wasn't, and she turned to see what he was talking about. She followed the focal point of his eyes and flashlight. It took a moment before she put together what she was looking at and her outcry caught in her throat.

Enclosed in clear plastic was her Raggedy Ann Doll, Raggs. Beads of moisture still clung to the small see-through body bag. What appeared to be an ice pick stabbed Raggs through the heart, pinning her to the trunk of the pine tree.

Georgie was immobile. She was breathing, but there was no air to be had. She didn't even protest when the camera was taken from her. Mason's solid body pressed against her before she realized he had pulled her to him, his hands easing up and down her arms. Nick carefully made his way around the edges of the clearing to Raggs. When the camera flash burst brightly, a painful gasp tore through Georgie's throat.

"Give her to me," she asked, trying to hold back her tears, but they burned their way down her cheeks on their own.

"We can't," Mason whispered in her ear.

"We can't, Georgie Girl," Nick also said.

"You... you can't leave her like that," she cried.

"We have to," Mason said, his arms completely around her now, cradling her, trying to make her understand. "The police need to see this just as it is."

She felt Mason's chest rise and fall with his deep breathing.

"Maybe we'll be lucky and the bastard that did this left his print behind. Something... " Nick said.

Georgie understood the logic in what he was saying, but each time Nick took a photo, the flash highlighted Raggs' startled, pleading button eyes. It was an ice pick driven into her own heart, to those precious memories of her mother sewing and embroidering that now frightened little doll face.

Nick turned the camera to a spot on the ground near the tree base. Georgie saw a cluster of cigarette butts, then looked down the slope. There were footprints heading toward her fence, and she remembered the impressions around her trashcan. Had they been her own... or not? Had whoever it was gotten inside the fence? How close had he come to entering her house... if not for Daisy?

"Nick, take her home," Mason said, reaching for his cell phone at his waist. "I'm calling this in."

Georgie didn't even argue that she was getting on a motorcycle, let alone without a helmet. The cold night failed to penetrate her state of shock. All she could see were those startled button eyes looking to her for help, and she buried her face in Nick's jacket.

There was no memory of time up to the moment the swirling police lights entered her driveway. Nick went out through the garage to meet them, while she sat at the kitchen table trying to swallow some water. Just an hour or so ago, this room was filled with laughter, friendly playful talk, future grandchild talk, and now this. She dropped her face into her hands, then pulled them away to look. They were wet. She took napkins out of the heavy glass holder and dabbed at the tears.

Outside, Daisy barked in objection to the intrusion of her world. Georgie's head was filled with visions of lights and camera flashes documenting Raggs' torment.

There was a faint sound of tires mashing the gravel in her driveway, a car door opening and closing, then more murmurs from the garage before the kitchen door opened slowly. She looked up and saw Mason poke his head in. Before she could think, she was on her feet in his arms, his hands smoothing up and down her back while his cheek pressed into her hair. After a moment, he moved them away from the door to let in Nick followed by two police officers.

"George," Mason murmured, "This is Officer Roberts and..."

Daisy burst in from the laundry room, barking, growling, teeth bared as the two officers entered, and they drew back.

"Whoa, Girl!" Nick quickly stepped in, managed to catch Daisy by the collar, and led her back out into the laundry room. Daisy jerked her head trying to get away from the grip, still snarling and barking, but Nick held firm trying to console her. "I know, Girl, I know. But we need to fix this. Lie down, lie down."

He closed the door behind him and rejoined them. Every now and then, Daisy's whimper came through followed by her pawing at the door. Max sat by the door, ears pulled back.

Georgie numbly let everyone enter her home. Officer Roberts leaned forward to shake her hand. Strange, when her family was in this room, it never seemed crowded. Mason guided her to the table and motioned that she should sit.

"Mrs. Gainsworth, we need to ask you some questions," Officer Roberts said. "May I?" he asked, indicating the chair opposite her.

Georgie nodded, still unable to draw out her voice. Nick took the chair on the other side of her, giving her a quick squeeze while Mason came to stand behind her, one hand on her shoulder the other at the nape of her neck.

"What..." She cleared her throat, demanding her voice to rise from the depths. "What do you want to know?" she asked. Seeing the second officer standing at the counter, she said, "You can have the other chair," then noticed who it was. "Oh, hello, Tonie. I didn't realize it was you. I'm sorry."

Roberts looked to his partner.

"That's okay," Tonie said, scribbling in her notebook. "And I'm fine here, thank you. She cut my hair," she told Roberts.

"Mrs. Gainsworth," Roberts started out. "Do you have any idea who would do this?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but Nick burst out with, "I fucking told you who did this!"

Georgie saw Roberts' pleading look to Mason, and she reached for Nick to calm him down, but he jerked as if to pull away, then leaned into her instead. "You know it was Jeffrey."

Mason shifted on his feet. "Nick. Let's do this by the book. First, we narrow down the field..."

"Yeah, and while you're narrowing down the field," Nick shot back, "the little fucker is hightailing it out of town."

"That is a possibility," Mason said to Roberts. "It appears the man never came home last night."

Roberts raised his dark brown eyes and leveled their trained patience on Mason as he asked, "And you know this because?"

It was a mere flicker of a pause, but that flitting silence solidified, until Mason spoke. "We took a drive to his place last night."

The change in Mason's voice was slight, but Georgie heard it, and she realized just how out of the policeman's rule Mason had stepped by going with her and Nick.

Roberts slapped shut his notebook and leaned forward, facial muscles tight. Georgie didn't think his eyes could get any more piercing, but they did.

"I need to speak with you outside," he said to Mason, but Georgie quickly reached up to keep Mason where he was.

"Please, Officer Roberts, Mason and Nick did nothing wrong," Georgie said, and added, "I made sure they did nothing out of order."

The wooden chair complained as Roberts sat back full weight in the seat, his face a flashing neon sign of annoyed frustration, if not flat out anger. His eyebrow shot straight up. "Well this just gets better and better, doesn't it."

When Georgie heard Tonie let out a small whistle, she knew she'd put Mason's foot in even deeper. She and Nick had dragged Mason into a bad place, and now she had added to that blunder. Great. No matter what she said now, it would only add more dirt to the grave. Even in thought, the word, grave, sent a chill up her spine.

"Just so I'm clear on this," Roberts said, his voice hiding none of the anger now, yet he remained strangely composed. "You, a police officer already on administrative leave, took two civilians to the house of a possibly dangerous suspect? Didn't call the police, no back up, no warrant." His sigh was deep. "Just took it upon yourself to take matters into your own hands."

"At that time there was no probable cause..." Mason stopped. Even to Georgie, the argument sounded shallow this evening.

Though nothing about Roberts had changed, Georgie could feel the heat of all that Roberts was holding in.

"When did this become more about a cop on administrative leave and less about a guy on his way to becoming a deadly threat to Georgie Girl here?" Nick asked.

Her Nick backed down for no one, Georgie thought, but she wondered if Roberts even heard Nick, his attention was so set on Mason now. It was difficult for her to believe this was the same person Mason considered a good man? Then she remembered Mason the morning he came into her shop; and like Mason, this Roberts was a police officer first, Mason's co-worker second.

"Montgomery," Roberts finally said, "stupid isn't your style, but this..."

Mason's body tensed against her as he let out a gush of air, his fingers almost hurtful as they curled slightly, almost a grip, then loosened to a caress.

"We had no plate number, not even a letter," Mason explained.

"Just a dark colored Durango," Nick added, "and a mighty pissed-off guy who owns one."

"Just what were we suppose to call in?" Mason asked, mockery accenting his question. "That we're certain this guy's the one?" He pointed to himself and Nick. "Hell, we're in love with the guy for all this."

"All this?" Roberts asked. Finally, Georgie saw a flicker of surprise in the man's dark eyes. "Okay. I'm missing a step in time-line. What am I not getting here?" he pressed. "I thought we were talking about the doll impaled to the tree up the road. Now you're talking dark Durangos and plates?"

Georgie felt Mason take a deep breath to say something, probably retell the tale starting with the rose, but hadn't it really started with Raggs? Nick darted forward in his chair, both arms on the table.

"Officer Clark," Nick said to Tonie. "Can we have some privacy here?"

"She's fine," Roberts said, but Nick held up a hand, asking for patience.

"I want what we are about to tell you off the record... for a while," Nick said. "The less ears that hear this, the better. Officer Clark?" He motioned for Tonie to step outside.

Georgie wanted to say it was fine if she stayed, but if Nick felt this strongly about it, and Mason was not objecting, they must have a reason. One blabbering outburst on her part was enough.

Tonie looked to Mason then to her present partner, and probably ranking officer at the moment. When neither man offered a protest, and Roberts motioned her out, Georgie saw and felt Tonie's anger as she shut her notebook with a smack and literally stomped out of the room. At Tonie's slamming of the door, Roberts' eyes settled on Mason.

No one said anything for a moment, until Mason spoke. "Bear with us here," he told Roberts, "then you decide what's relevant or not." He tapped Georgie's shoulder. "Go ahead."

Georgie swallowed the lump in her throat and thought back. "I guess I have to say it started with the theft of Raggs, my Raggedy Ann Doll, this past Wednesday night."

Nick stepped in and told what he suspected was going on; the rose, smudged footprints in the yard, Daisy's strange behavior, ending with tonight. Now it was Roberts' turn to take a deep breath after reading over his notes. When he looked up, he stared straight into her eyes. While Mason's gray hue had quickly prompted Georgie to easily spill out her thoughts, Roberts's look was demanding it. Instinctively, she bristled and stared right back.

"Do you think it's this Jeffrey Sanders?" he asked her, his sharp demeanor now reined in. "Do you think he's a stalker on his way to turning lethal?"

Do I, Georgie thought? Did she really think Jeffrey capable of stealing Raggs? Putting a rose on her windshield? Prowling around her house and peeking in her windows? Would he... could he do that to Raggs? A shiver rippled through her and she reached for Mason's hand and Nick's.

"I'm sorry," she said to Mason and Nick, then looked at Roberts. "But everything in me says... no."

"Georgie Girl!" Nick said, tossing up his hands and bringing them down with a slap to his thighs.

Even Mason let go as he dropped down on one knee to look up into her face.

"I've known Jeffrey for twenty years," she reasoned. "Why would he do this now? Why?"

"Think about it!" Nick told her.

"I am!" she bit back, then calmed down. "Why now? Why all of a sudden, and to such extreme?"

"Georgie Girl, I sometimes wonder what the fuck holds your ears apart?" Nick snapped, giving her head a poke, and she slapped at his hand.

"Can you talk to me without using that word?" But she knew he didn't hear her. He had that bone in his mouth. You just didn't take a bone from a Pit Bull, no matter how hard she wanted this to go away.

"While Sam was alive there was never any chance for him," Nick said. "But Sam died, Georgie Girl. He died. And for three years Jeffrey's waited and he finally asks you out. And what happens?"

"Nothing happens. We had two dinners. They weren't dates. Even if he thought them dates, nothing came of it."

"Yes, nothing came of it," Nick said, his voice saddened, "but you know what? Unfortunately for Jeffrey, Dudley Do-Right entered the scene and Jeffrey's little dream soured. No third try."

"But what about the neighbors saying he was seeing someone?"

Nick shook his head. "If not for Dudley Do-Right here, I think it would be you they were talking about."

She wanted to shake her head, deny it, make it not real, but she couldn't. Mason had entered her life.

"I gather Dudley Do-Right is you?" Roberts pointed at Mason, not expecting an answer. "Once more leaving this Jeffrey out in the cold." He leaned back in his seat, hand rubbing his chin. "I've seen rejected lovers go deadly on less than that. It wouldn't hurt to have a talk with this Jeffrey. No harm in that."

"But..." Georgie tried to explain, but there was no argument she could offer.

"You," Roberts pointed at Nick, "will not be going with us. I don't want a hot head jamming up the works. I've never had a case thrown out of court because of any bad police work done by me or mine. It's not going to happen this time. Are we clear on this?"

For a second, Georgie thought Nick was going to argue. He and Roberts were in a duel of glares... but to her surprise, Nick nodded.

"Montgomery, you can ride along, but that's all. You say nothing. If the guy speaks to you, you don't answer, not even a nod."

"Got it," Mason said.

Georgie watched as Roberts rose to his feet. He had to be as tall if not taller than Mason. Younger? Maybe, maybe not. Georgie looked to Roberts' shoulder. He had stripes, but his seniority over Mason needed no stripes...

Roberts walked out, while Mason stayed. He was still on his knee, looking up at her. It took a moment before his mouth pulled at one corner. "We've stepped slightly out of the calm eye of the storm, haven't we, George."

He rose, pressed his lips to her forehead, then pointed at Nick. "Don't leave her alone."

Chapter seventeen

"How am I going to keep all this from Paula?" Georgie asked. "Steven can take it. But I worry about Paula and the baby." She couldn't help remembering when she almost lost Steven during her first pregnancy.

Nick ran his fingers through her hair and gave her that soft shake he'd done through all the years they'd known each other. "With that bright yellow police crime-scene tape all over those trees, people will notice and it could hit the news. Better she hear it before hand." She heard the frustration in his sharp breath. "I'll call Cassie," he said. "She'll know best how to tell Paula. She'll be okay. Paula's stronger than you think, Georgie Girl, but if she goes hysterical, Cassie can do her doctor thing with her."

While Nick punched in Cassie's number, Georgie looked in the refrigerator and pulled out the container of orange juice. There was almost enough, she thought, and got herself a glass.

"Hey, April," Nick was saying. "Sorry to call so late. I need to talk to Cassie."

Georgie poured the juice into the glass and took out her tequila. She didn't even bother to measure in shots nor did she add ice. Leaning against the counter she swirled the contents as she listened to Nick's voice. Strange, she thought. As he told the story, it didn't sound so bad, very benign, just another of his travel-tales... until he came to Raggs.

Georgie turned away to look out her window. Lights flickered through the wind-tormented shrubbery and trees at the top of the slope.

The police doing their job, she thought, and forced down the liquid before turning back to Nick.

"Well, what the fuck do you think I was doing?" he was saying, holding out the phone to stare at it, then put it back to his ear. "I was the one who found her. Yes, we called the cops. Think I'm an idiot? Damn." He nodded, mouth opening as he struggled to get a word in, failing and tried again before finally succeeding. "Mason and I are pretty sure who did it, but your Pollyanna friend here doesn't agree."

Georgie took another swallow, wishing she could feel the bite of the tequila, wash away the last three days, erase this evening, but when Nick said, "Jeffrey Sanders," she knew there was no doing away with any of it.

"What..." He took a breath, nodding at something Cassie was saying, then interrupted. "What we need is for you to go to Paula's and tell her what I told you." Again, he nodded, his hand motioning an unseen plea to Cassie. "How the hell do I know. You're the doctor. Think of something."

"Don't let Paula come here," Georgie called out. "I don't want her anywhere near me right now."

"You hear her?" Nick asked Cassie. "Make Paula see she can't do anything here. I'm here, go'na be here, and so will Dudley Do-Right. No, he went with the cops to Jeffrey's. We need you to keep Paula calm, not go all wacko and stress out the baby. We'll call Steven. He might not even be home. Probably taking another look at his own situation." A slight pause again. "Well of course, I noticed. That little Lucy either deals with it or Steven sees the uphill snowball shit and walks away... if he's smart. Anyway, can you go over and talk to Paula? Thanks, Babe." This time, the pause made him smile. "But you are a Babe."

He placed the phone back in its cradle and looked at her. Georgie took a deep breath, shook her head and did a long exhale.

"What?" he asked, with a shrug of innocence. "She is a Babe; gay or not, she's a Babe."

"You know why we're such good friends?" Georgie asked, finally feeling the nirvana of the tequila. "No one else will put up with you... or us, I guess."

"That's true enough," he said. "Lord only knows how Sam and April put up with you and Cassie." He tossed his chin up at her drink. "Little stingy with the tequila, aren't you?"

"There was just enough orange juice for one glass, and as much as I love you. Ain't no way in hell I was letting you have it."

"That's okay," he said, going to the bottle and poured half a small glass. "I like mine straight up."

"Don't we all," she countered, and began to laugh at her thoughts of the double meaning.

"Whoa there. Just how much shit did you put in that?"

The laughter died, shoved away by visions of Raggs, and pinching her eyes shut didn't make them go away. Nothing did.

"It's like losing Mom all over again," she said, voice shaky as tears welled hot in her eyes. Max brushed against her leg and Daisy whimpered at the laundry room door.

"Hey, hey," Nick said, as Georgie found herself pulled to him, his large hand capping and patting her head. "Let's call Steven. Come on. Go wash your face."

She nodded as she drew away from the citadel of his hold. He waved a finger and scrunched up his face. "Go on. You're all smudged up."

Georgie smacked his chest.

He rubbed the offending hand. "You have to be calm when you talk to him."

As she went up the hall, she heard him open the door for Daisy.

"Come on, Girl," he said. "Everyone's gone now."

Both Daisy and Max ran to catch up with her. Georgie knelt and smoothed a hand over their heads. It took great effort to straighten and turn on the faucet. The cool water felt good on her face. Nick was right, she thought, looking into the mirror. She was a mess, in more ways than one.

~~0~~

Once more seated at the Kitchen table, Georgie pushed in Steven's speed dial number. Half expecting to get his message or pager, it surprised her when Steven answered. She really thought he would be with Lucy trying to work things out.

"This is something Lucy needs to figure out herself," he said. "Not sure, but I think there's something deeper bothering her. When she's ready, she'll tell me. If she doesn't, then..." Georgie heard his long sad sigh and easily visualized him shrugging. "Then it can't be saved. If we can't talk about what hurts us, then what is there? What's up, Mom? I know you didn't call me this late just to ask me about Lucy."

"I'm putting you on speaker," she said, looked to Nick, took a hard swallow of nothing, and started in with the events. Though it was easier to recount this time, the whole thing was painfully surreal.

"I'm coming over," Steven said when she finished.

"No!" she spurted out, saw Nick motion her to clam down, and pulled herself in. "There's no need. Nick is here and Mason will be here too. The police are looking into it."

"I don't like this. Is this the same Sanders that does your shop accounting?"

"Yes. But you know, I just don't think he would do this. I..."

"Oh, for God's sakes," Nick said.

"I gather Uncle Nick thinks it is."

"Yes, he does. The police are probably at Jeffrey's now. Mason is with them."

For a moment, there was no response. The whole thing had been a lot for her to take in, so she knew Steven must be struggling with it too. Who wouldn't?

"I think it's good Cassie is the one telling Paula," Steven finally said. "I better get off the phone so Paula can get through. She'll want to talk to you. Let me know what the police have to say. I have to try and get some sleep. I'm putting in some volunteer time at St. V.'s ER for extra credits. If Uncle Nick leaves, let me know. I don't want you alone. I'll come over."

"I'm fine, but thank you for caring. Love my kids."

"Love you too."

When she heard the click at the other end, she hung up and looked to Nick. "You should take off your jacket."

He glanced down at himself, surprise pulling up his eyebrows, mouth slightly open. "Didn't realize I still had it on."

He disappeared down the hallway into the living room and came right back minus the leatherwear. Georgie supposed he tucked it behind the couch; his peg on the wall, so-to-speak... a habit she and Sam only smiled at. Daisy and Max finally settled in their nightly curl-up on the floor near her.

"Shouldn't Roberts and his group be at Jeffrey's by now?" she asked, staring down at her tilted empty glass and not really expecting an answer. The nagging doubt began trifling with her. How could someone she thought she knew so well, change so suddenly? While she sensed Jeffrey wanted more than friendship from her, she just didn't see him obsessed, though he was finicky; a neat freak, Emmee once called him. One obsession for another?

The sharp whir of the blender startled her. Nick was instant-thawing some orange juice with water in the blender. He stopped. Georgie saw his sight fix on the rose still on the counter in the corner. He jerked it out of the vase and tossed it in the garbage disposal. It was a quick death in a crunching grind.

If he noticed her watching, he offered no comment, and neither did she. He poured juice into her glass and set down the tequila, giving her the option of how much to put in or not, and she smiled. The silver white of the spirit took on the orange color. After giving the amount a gauging thought she was about to add more. At Nick's arching eyebrow, she arched her own in return, daring him to say anything.

"Did you know tequila really isn't made from cactus?" she said. "Though the agave plant is a succulent, it's not considered a cactus."

There was no response to her gathered bit of trivial information, and she shrugged. "Well, I was surprised when I read it."

"Cassie should be arriving at Paula's," he said, sitting in the seat opposite her. "And yes, I knew that about the agave. Probably long before you read it. It's the Weber Blue, or Blue Weber, whichever you prefer."

Georgie added more tequila to her glass and more to his. "Let's hear it for the Weber Blue Agave," she said.

After their traditional clinking "salute," they took their sip. The last time she had indulged like this was when they buried Sam. Everyone had gone home. Nick, Cassie and April stayed. April sat in the corner patiently waiting for the three of them to drown their grief in drink and remembrance.

"I don't suppose you and Mason exchanged phone numbers so he could call us from Jeffrey's."

Georgie blinked away the past and looked down into her glass. She wanted to offer a quick and clever retort, but only managed a weak shrug.

"You two need guidance," he said, taking another swallow and settled back in the chair. "Neither of you knows how to date anymore." He toyed with the glass, tilting it this way and that, his sight on its undulating contents. "He's a good man, Georgie Girl."

"And you know this how?"

"Trust me," he smiled. "I know." After a moment that only friends could accept without question, he asked, "You know how his wife died?"

She was caught by surprise at his question. It was Mason's place to open that chapter of his life, not hers, or Nick's. Sometimes Nick's prying was unnerving. She was grateful her phone rang, and she put it on speaker.

"Mom," Paula's voice was tight, but controlled. "Ryan and I want you to come stay with us."

"I'm fine. Nick is here."

"Well, at least the Bad Penny is where he should be, for once," Paula said.

"I heard that."

"You're on speaker," Georgie said.

"Like I didn't know that. Mom, I'm serious. You're in danger there. Cassie said Nick thinks Jeffrey Sanders is the one who did this. Do you know how many cases like this turn deadly? Mom..."

"Now you're scaring me." She meant it as a jest to lighten the moment, but Paula wasn't buying into it.

"I mean to scare you. You need waking up here."

"You tell her, Counselor."

"Nick," Georgie warned.

"He's right, Mom. Come stay with us until the police clear this up. What does that... new friend of yours, Officer Montgomery, say?"

Nick cleared his throat. "He's with the police right now," he said. "And I would cut him some slack, little girl. He put his standing with his department in jeopardy by following me during this thing."

"Uncle Nick, tell me you didn't do anything that could see this thing thrown out of court on a technicality if they catch this guy."

"Oh, now it's Uncle Nick?"

"Are you two through?" Georgie asked. When neither answered, she said, "Honey, Nick will be here a few days, and the police are looking into it right now. They should be calling soon or at least bringing Mason back. Are you okay? That's what I want to know."

"I'm fine, Mother. I'm not the one being stalked."

"I'm hanging up now. I just didn't want you to hear it from someone else. See to it you don't worry the baby. Love you. Good night."

"Love you too."

All Georgie could do was stare at the phone while the dial tone begged for a break in connection. Stalked. The word and its implication hung on the edge of the mmmmmmmm. Stalking had not occurred to her. Raggs taken. The dead-line phone calls at the shop. That car in her driveway the first night Mason followed her home. She was sure of it now. How far had it come in her drive? Why? Who? She never did actually see if it was Jeffrey's big Durango or not. Would he actually try to run her over? Right in front of her shop? The whole thing made no sense.

Nick set the phone on its base, cutting off the dial tone, then sat staring at her, his normally sharp brown eyes looking worried. She tried to take a drink, but the glass shook in her hand, then realized it wasn't the glass, but her hand... she was shaking all over and very cold.

"You are being stalked," Nick said, and the strange clinical sound of his voice only added to the chill in the room. "And whoever it is, has turned very ugly. I'm hoping it is Jeffrey. Cause if it's not, we have a big problem."

This time, when her phone rang, Georgie jumped, but her hand wouldn't move to pick it up.

"You going to answer it?" Nick asked.

Slow motion seized her muscles. At a snail's crawl, her hand finally picked up the phone, but words would not form.

"George. George?"

"Yes." The one word tore its way through her vocal cords.

"Let me talk to Nick," Mason said.

The urgency in his voice caught Georgie and she shook her head. "No. I'll put the phone on speaker."

"George."

"No. This is happening to me. I have the right to know."

She could hear the hum of a car motor, police radio. They weren't parked.

"Jeffrey doesn't appear to be home," Mason said. "At least he never came to the door. No sounds in the house. No lights. Roberts' asked for a search warrant."

At the laden pause, she asked, "And?"

"A call came in while we were waiting."

"A call?"

"Yeah. A dark green Durango was reported at Upper State Street Park. We're almost there now. It doesn't look good."

She could hear car doors opening, bodies bursting from their seats, the squawking of police mikes, footsteps hitting the gravel, but it was the distinct clicking of weapons preparing for fire that bombarded Georgie.

"Slow and easy here," someone said.

"Fuck that! Extreme prejudice here," a deeper voice said. "Inside the car, Portland police. Come out, slow, hands empty where we can see them."

The pause was long and torturous.

"Oh, man," Mason's voice finally came through, and Nick bolted to his feet. He snatched the phone from its base, to take it off speaker.

"Nick!" Georgie shouted, trying to take back the phone, but he was so tall, he easily held it way out of her reach. "Either give me my phone or put it back on the speaker!"

"God, but you're a stubborn..."

He jammed the phone into its cradle and Mason's voice came through. "He's dead, George."

"What?" Georgie gasped and dropped into the chair.

"I'm Sorry," Mason said.

"Oh, my God." Jeffery dead? It was as though she was inside some else's body, her skin felt so tight, suffocating her. "No. It can't be..."

"Looks like he left a note," Mason was saying through the voices in the background. "But we have to wait for Crime Scene Techs to get here. I'm sorry, George."

"How?" Nick asked, both hands on the table.

"One round to the right temple. Hand gun."

Chapter eighteen

Georgie bolted from her chair and ran through the laundry room, desperate for the cold outside air. Daisy and Max followed.

He's dead, George.

From her patio, she stared up in the direction where the police were still working the area they had found Raggs. Off to the side, on the road, she caught sight of headlights making their way down, mere flickers through the shrubs, but she was certain they were headlights. They disappeared behind the trees still bearing leaves. Daisy barked and Max yawned, his ears twitching, checking out the sound.

He's dead, George.

Reaching behind her, Georgie found the oak patio seat and dropped into it. Her outside lights flicked on, their yellow glow adding a deeper, brighter tone to the leaves sailing across the yard.

A flash of memory, a snap shot in time... Jeffrey smiling into the mirror as she cut his hair.

It will be so strange not to see that shy smile, she thought, and dropped her face into her hands. Had she had any clue her dismissal of his attentions would do all this... bring them all to this end...

No, she thought, whipping her head back to let the breeze catch her hair, swat her face. She couldn't be that wrong. No. Something wasn't right here. Think, Georgie, think. It's a puzzle piece that doesn't fit here. Why? And where does it fit? What is it about this whole thing that's off?

She looked up into the dark trees, listening to the whispering breeze. Nothing. There was no answer to be heard.

What had the police done with Raggs, she wondered? Though she fought it, images of Raggs being manhandled by invading, uncaring hands haunted her. What was it Brandy said? She's probably in the arms of a little girl right now. Georgie rubbed her fingers across her forehead, then pushed back her hair. How she wished Raggs were in the arms of a little girl right now instead of inside that plastic bag with...

"Why a plastic bag?" she murmured.

"What?" Nick asked, handing her another glass of orange juice. When she didn't answer, he said, "Come inside. It's damn cold out here."

But Georgie saw where he was looking. Lights were still moving throughout the slope. Nick nodded. "At least they're being thorough."

She took the glass and sipped. It was biting as it went down, but she muffled the cough. She was grateful for the pungent taste of what she hoped would buffer the pain. Shivering, she touched Nick's arm and got up to go inside.

"Come on. Daisy, Max, inside. Come on." At the door she turned. "You too," she said to Nick. "Come on."

He nodded and followed her in, but not before giving one last look to the slope. As she closed the door behind them, she too gave the moving flashlight beams one last glance. Pressing her palm to the door, she turned the lock and dead bolt.

"What were you saying out there?" he asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"How did Mason get my number?" she asked, not quite ready to share her ill-fitting-puzzle question. "I never gave it to him. Remember?"

"Clue number one: you're in the phone book, which is not a good thing. Shop? Okay. Home? Not okay. Number two: he's a cop. They have their ways. Law and order, and all that crap." Georgie just looked at him, and he shrugged. "You have a phone, they can get the number. For this? They can get it."

"Hmmm." Georgie took another sip of her drink.

"You were talking to yourself out there."

She thought a moment, then decided, why not bounce her doubts off Nick. "I was just wondering. Why put Raggs in a plastic bag?"

"What are you talking about?

Georgie labored on how to word her puzzle pieces. What was she talking about? Come on, she thought, verbalize it. Maybe it will make sense.

She started out slowly, trying to listen to her own words. "If someone were going to... to do what they did to Raggs? Why go to the trouble of sealing her in a plastic bag? Why bother? It wasn't a white trash bag, or... or even an ugly green thing, but a see-through bag. I don't know. It just gave me the feeling of protecting Raggs... with... care. You know? But, protecting from what? And why with such care? Such a mixture." She looked to her one open palm. "Protect her without demeaning her." Then held up the other hand. "Then to just... just... do something like that to her... an ice pick..." Both hands shot up then down with a smack on her thighs. "I don't know what I'm thinking... what to think?"

Nick's brown eyes met hers, his brow puckering as he took hold of her hands and brought them together in a caring grip. "Has it occurred to you, you might be over thinking this? The quirky mind is a hard thing to understand, Georgie Girl. No two strangees are the same as to rhyme or reason."

With a great sigh, Georgie freed herself of Nick's gentle plea for her to understand. She shook her head again, but the theory wouldn't set itself right. The sentences were still all jumbled and making no sense. Shivering, she rubbed her arms, got up and turned up the thermostat. Knowing there was nothing she could do, nothing to do, she still looked about in search of something... something left undone. But there was nothing, only her loud deep breath. "I need to take a shower. I need to, to... I don't know. I just need to be clean."

"Sure," Nick said. "I'll keep an eye out for Mason."

~~0~~

Georgie let herself relish the sharp spray of warm water while the suds of the shampoo offered a fragrance of ocean breezes, a sea of forgetfulness. But when the hair dryer did away with the last bit of moisture, the truth of the evening returned; Raggs stabbed and impaled by Jeffrey who was now dead, apparently by his own hand. Nothing had been magically washed away.

When Georgie came out of her bedroom with a fresh set of sweatpants and top, Daisy was gone. She could hear the Schnauzer whimper in the laundry room, now and then scratching at the door, and there were low voices coming from the kitchen. This time, she would not hide and listen. What they discussed in whispers, they could say in front of her.

Mason had returned with Officer Roberts and Tonie. While Mason sat at the table with Nick, Roberts and Tonie remained standing.

"And?" Georgie asked them.

After a moment, it was Mason who spoke. "He wrote a note telling you he was sorry."

"What?" Georgie wanted to shake her head, wanted not to believe it, but there it was. How could she deny it? She had to sit down. "He actually admitted it?" She looked at them, wanting someone to offer some small seed of doubt, but they didn't. Neither Mason nor Roberts said anything. Mason's eyes carried a sadness while Roberts' remained cool and professional.

"Man was a weasel," Tonie said, her mouth pulling in distaste, her eyes lacking any sympathy, and Georgie felt bad that Tonie was so cold. But then, in her profession, perhaps it was a defense mechanism.

"Officer Clark," Roberts said.

Georgie didn't even want to consider Roberts' terse manner toward Tonie. She just wanted this to be over with, leave it all behind her, move on to the next book, new characters, new plots. Only Georgie hadn't gotten the punch line to this story, no climatic ending to satisfy the reader.

"What's going on in that head of yours, Georgie Girl?" Nick asked.

She didn't realize she was pulling at a hair strand until Mason took hold of her hand. "George?"

No, Georgie thought. No. And she turned to Officer Roberts. "Is there a chance I could see the inside of Jeffrey's house?"

"Uh, I don't see how that can happen," Roberts said. "It is a crime scene, after all."

"Actually it's not," Georgie said. "His Durango at Upper State Park? Yes. But his house? And for a suicide?"

"I don't see it happening, Mrs. Gainsworth. It's part of the investigation. CST will never go for it, and suicide is something for them to determine. It's only conjecture at this point, given what we know."

Georgie thought for a moment before taking a deep shuddering breath, her lower lip catching between her teeth. "Okay. Are they checking it out now?"

Roberts nodded. "Should be. I'm sure the search warrant's been taken care of. Why?"

"I'm not insinuating that your people aren't capable or anything like that, but could you make sure they check out something?"

"Depends. What are you after?"

Georgie shrugged. "Ash trays. Gun cabinet. Ammo."

"Search already in progress for weapons permit."

"In all the years I have known Jeffrey, I never saw him smoke. I never smelled smoke on him or his clothes, let alone in his Durango, or in his hair." Georgie looked Roberts in the eye. "You smoke. I get a whiff of it, now and then, from you. So does Officer Clark. I got a tinge of the odor in her hair when I cut it the other day."

"I don't try to hide it," Tonie said, her voice calm, though curt.

"That's what I mean. Why would Jeffrey hide it?" Georgie argued. "There was no reason for him to." She turned to Roberts. When he remained stoic, his face a chiseled mask, Georgie would not budge. "He didn't smoke. Ask his employees."

"Your point being what?" Roberts asked.

"There were cigarette butts near Raggs. Nick even thought he could smell it earlier this evening."

She looked to Nick, and he nodded. "It's what made me go up there in the first place."

"We don't know that those cigarette butts are even connected to Jeffrey and the doll," Roberts reasoned. At her doubting glance, he added, "not for sure, anyway."

Georgie accepted his pittance of agreement. "And a gun. I can't... I just can't see Jeffrey and a gun. I don't think he even hunted."

"A lot of men don't hunt, but own a gun," Nick said. "To some men, it's an extra p..."

Georgie held out a hand to stop him.

"George," Mason said in a soft voice. "You should prepare yourself to accept that Jeffrey did all this." He pushed a wayward hair strand from her face. It was so like a caress, and Georgie wanted so badly to enjoy it instead of listening to what he was saying. He cupped her chin so she made eye contact. "Sometimes we don't know people as well as we think or as well as we want to."

"But... if only I'd known or seen..."

"Georgie Girl, you're not taking the blame here." Nick's tone was flat and firm. "None of this is your fault. You understand? None of it. A wacko chooses his own highway. You just happen to be a road sign that caught his attention."

"I guess," Georgie heard herself say, then asked Mason, "Do you think I could at least see the note he wrote? I mean, he wrote me enough checks."

Mason pursed his lips and handed the question over to Officer Roberts.

"It'll go to handwriting analysis first," Roberts said. "They'll catch anything not right." He turned to Tonie. "I'll see you out in the car."

Georgie watched as Tonie nodded then cast a glance to Mason and Nick without expression. She offered Georgie a soft smile before going out the door to the garage. It was a struggle for Georgie to find a smile in response.

When the door clicked shut behind Tonie, Roberts turned to Mason. "When do you hear from the Review Board?" Roberts asked Mason.

"I'm hoping Monday." Mason rose to his feet, answering some silent summons from Roberts.

Officer Roberts nodded. As they both moved toward the door, Georgie noticed a strain on Roberts' face, his lips pressing, holding back what words wanted to come out, yet his seasoned years on the force setting the protocol of professional courtesy. "Okay," was all Georgie heard from Roberts.

Mason leaned into the man and whispered, "She's a rookie. Too vocal, at times, I know, but..."

Roberts offered Georgie a quick glance before leaning into Mason. "She nearly missed this call tonight," he said, through clenched teeth. "Came on duty late, already worked up about something. She's a hair from going over the edge."

"She'll get it together." Mason's voice was low with a gentle plea for Roberts to have some empathy here.

"Sure she will," Georgie heard Nick murmur beside her, as the other two men went out the door.

They were clearly all talking about Tonie, Georgie thought. She gathered Tonie was having a problem fitting in. She looked to Nick and he shrugged, his mouth pulling to the side as he shook his head.

"I've seen too many like her," he said, "Can't handle the stress and burn out. Their ashes scatter to the winds."

"Is it that bad in sales at Cantell Electronics too?"

"What? Oh. Sure. It's that way anywhere for a woman like Clark."

"Like Clark. What's that suppose to mean?" she asked.

"You know."

"Enlighten me." She let sarcasm lay heavy on each word while her glare acted as back up.

"Oh crap. You know what I'm talking about. So don't go all feminist on me, okay? Some women who finally make the cut push too hard, too quick. They don't wade in. They jump in headfirst and hit rocks." He offered a quick tilt to his head, raised eyebrows and pursed lips. "Makes it hard for those around them... including other women. It's not a pretty sight when they crash and burn."

"You are such a hard ass," she told him, feeling deep sympathy for Tonie and her brethren. Even the term implied males. Sisterhood. Loses in translation somehow, she thought, her heart saddening.

"Hey," Nick defended. "I didn't create them. Did you come out of Beauty School and get your own shop right away? No. You took your knocks and learned, got the crust, the know-how. Some women don't do that. The occupation doesn't matter. April climbed her ladder easy-like, one rung at a time, right up to the A-plus top."

"Okay," Georgie said. "Spare me. I get it."

"You'd better." He leaned over, kissed the corner of her forehead. "Cause, Georgie Girl, one bad move on Tonie's part, out on a call, could cost you Dudley Do-Right. Remember that."

Georgie's mouth dropped opened, his words striking a blow to a place she thought could no longer feel pain. Without further comment, he got up, tapped his finger to the tip of her nose, and went out to join Mason and Roberts.

Chapter nineteen

Georgie drank the last of her tequila and orange juice, stared blankly at the bottom of the glass before getting up to put it in the sink, but the room swayed, her legs wobbly.

"Oh, is your head going to smart tomorrow," she told herself, then remembered, one round to the right temple. She set down the glass and rushed to the bathroom. All the evening's events and visions came gushing out, over and over, until she felt as empty as her life was each time she lost someone close to her. Jeffrey wasn't close to her, but he was a participant in her existence, and now he was gone.

Cold water on her face helped clear the cobwebs. After a mouthwash rinsing, she dabbed a towel to dry the moisture, then stared into the mirror. Odd, she didn't look any different. There were no added lines of trauma or shadowed eyes.

One round to the right temple, she thought. Slowly, she placed a finger-gun to her right temple. She jolted at the one sharp tap on the door.

"George? You okay?"

"Yes," she told Mason, looked once more into the mirror, and sighed. "I'm fine." Whatever thought had tried to take root, was gone... just like Jeffrey.

She opened the door to find Mason had already returned to the kitchen. Fatigue was overtaking her, making each step more difficult. What time was it? What did it matter? The clock still tic-ticked and moved on. How cruel, she thought, and entered the kitchen.

"So you'll be here?" Mason was asking Nick.

"Yeah. I talked to my supervisor and told him point blank I wasn't going anywhere for a while."

"You must have some major seniority clout."

Nick's laugh was heavy with cynicism. "Trust me. They aren't getting anyone else to go to the cesspools I go." With his most hammish theatrical pose, he declared, "It would take nothing less than a red-phone call from the President himself for me to leave my Georgie Girl right now. And I sure don't see any red phones here."

Georgie grasped Nick's shoulder and smiled. "Good to know I'm more important to you than a malfunctioning computer chip."

"Or the sale of a malfunctioning chip," Nick added with a light tap to her grip and a nod, then yawned and rose. "Well, I'm going to bed. Georgie Girl, where's that blanket you gave me last night?"

"Linen closet, but for goodness sake, Nick, why not take the spare bedroom? It's made, clean sheets, plus it has an electric blanket."

"Nope. Comfy bed is too much like an anchor." He overacted the body shudder as he entered the hallway. "The couch is perfect."

"Lord save some poor woman from that non-committing man," Georgie said, making sure Nick could hear.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Nick mumbled down the hallway.

After a moment, Mason rustled in his chair. "I should be on my way too. I'll find out what they determine about Jeffrey and let you know. It's Roberts' case. I'm sure he'll keep me in the loop." He rose and tipped her chin with his finger. "Get your coat. I don't want to lose my way going to the car."

"Can't have you lost out here in the wild," Georgie said with a smile, while slipping into her coat.

His cell phone went off as they walked through the garage. Once more she tried to step away to give him privacy, but his arm about her shoulders refused to let her. He pulled her even closer and her heart raced. She swallowed and took the leap into the start of becoming a couple... letting her arms slip around him while she pressed her cheek to his chest.

"Yeah, I'm still here. Why?" Mason said into the phone.

A chill passed over Georgie when she heard the distinct tones of Tonie's voice at the other end. Had they been a thing at one time? Georgie wanted to ask, but bit her lip instead. Had Tonie even been partnered with him long enough for the attachment? Mason called her a rookie. How long is one a rookie before the label goes away?

"I hope to hear from the Board on Monday," he said into the phone, and Georgie realized, once the Review Board cleared him of any wrong doing in the hostage situation shooting he would once more be with Tonie day in, day out.

He stopped walking and Georgie thought he was going to move away from her, but he didn't. Instead, she felt him tense up, his body hard.

"Roberts is a damn good man, Tonie."

He pressed Georgie's head to him, his hand warm as he caressed her, and Georgie allowed herself to tighten her hold in answer.

"I told you when you first started. Learn to keep your thoughts and emotions to yourself and your department Shrink." He sucked in a sharp breath, frustration clearly present. "No, I don't think you need the Shrink, and no, I'm not turning on you." He jerked his hand over to look at his watch. "You still have three hours left on your shift. If you're on the phone with me, you're not keeping an eye on your partner's back. Do your job."

The long silence ended when Mason flip-shut his phone and placed it back in its belt holder. Georgie sensed his inner battle to hold intact his temper and thoughts with both the moment and the conversation. In a strange way, she felt bad for Tonie.

"Roberts might be a good man," Georgie said, "but he's not you. You're her partner."

"No!" It was said so sharply, it startled Georgie. He took a deep breath, drawing in his outburst, but his tone remained firm. "Her partner right now, this moment, is Roberts, not me. We aren't husband and wife, 24/7. We're partners on a job, 9 to 5, so to speak. Right now, Roberts is that partner."

"Would you feel this way if Roberts were your partner? Or is it because Tonie's a woman?"

"Oh, do not even go there, Miss Independence" he said, his mood lighter as he gave her a light reproachful shrug. "I treat her no different than I was treated as a rookie, including Roberts when we were partners."

"You and Roberts were partners?"

"Two years. Actually, I was his rookie, then went on to get my own rookie partner and many more after that. So Tonie..."

"You were Roberts' rookie?" She couldn't keep the disbelief out of her voice. Until this minute, she hadn't considered Mason's age. She looked up at him. How old, or more to the point, how young was he?

"George," he said, his voice soft with warning. "Age has nothing to do with us. So let it go now before it becomes an issue. Can you do that?"

"Do you even know if there's an age difference?"

"Nope. Don't care. I'm where I want to be. I'm good with that. I want you to be good with it too." He guided them on toward his car and stopped. He seemed to think on something then continued walking, but at a slower pace. "I would like to ask you one thing," he said when they reached his 4Runner, then turned to face her.

"Sure."

"It's personal."

"My life is pretty much an open book right now, don't you think?" she said.

"If it's too personal, just tell me, okay?" But he didn't wait for an answer and asked. "How did your husband die?"

"Car accident. Black ice," she started out, and Georgie found the account less painful to tell. But when she finished, she had to catch her breath, the run of the account still a mile long for her, and she was tired, wanted to cry, could feel the tears sting, but wouldn't let them flow.

For the longest time, Mason remained silent, a finger pushing aside stray hairs blowing across her forehead.

After a deep breath he said, "My wife, Jenny, was back east visiting her parents. They uh... live in Boston, 'bout a mile from my parents. She was on her way home and boarded the plane on the morning of 9/11."

Georgie could find no words. She remembered hugging Sam that morning four years ago as they watched the news reports. A cry of pain became a lump in her throat, and she swallowed.

"When I got home," he went on, in a voice so low Georgie, could barely hear him. "There was a message on our answering machine from her cell phone on the plane. I saved it for the longest time. I played it over and over just to hear her voice. I couldn't do anything for her, not even find the persons responsible. Here I am a cop. To serve and protect... and I couldn't protect the one closest to me."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, but it sounded so inadequate, she wished she could take it back.

"The worse part is, I never got the chance to say..."

"Good-bye," she finished for him. "I know."

"Yeah." It came out a half whisper. He started the engine, turned on the heater to defrost his windshield then got back out. He pulled her to him, opening up his jacket to draw her in to share his warmth.

"I never thought to ask," she said. "Do you have children?"

"No. Jenny couldn't have any, and having her was enough for me." He sucked in air. "And then I didn't have her anymore."

"Don't know what I would have done if I hadn't had those two of mine when I lost Sam."

"They're great, those two," he said, and smiled down at her when she let out a short cough. "Yes," he added, "even Paula. Talk about a mother hen. Whew!"

They laughed. She had forgotten how she enjoyed sharing something funny with someone... as she had with Sam. There was a moment of stabbing guilt, that she could find such simple pleasure with another man. Was Mason thinking of Jenny?

She shoved the troublesome thought back, and leaned into him to let his strong body support her.

"Mason," she said, feeling very comfortable with the moment, "You know I was serious when I told Roberts that something is off about this whole thing with Jeffrey. Don't laugh, but I've watched enough TV and Discovery Crime Detective to question this whole thing."

"Ah," he murmured, "Serious stuff."

"Stop."

"Okay," he said. "Continue."

"Would someone that has a phobia about blood shoot himself?"

She held up her finger to show him her healing cut. "I thought Jeffrey was going to faint when I cut my finger while doing his hair Thursday morning."

"My first thought would be no." His large hand pressed her to him, his chin resting on the top of her head. "But I've seen some crazy people do what isn't what we term normal. Look at that jerk I shot. Who would have thought a man would do that to his own son, thinking this would bring his wife back. The world is a crazy place sometimes, you know?"

"I suppose," she half whispered, thinking to let it go... yet unable to. "I just can't get Jeffrey out of my mind. Did you... actually see him?"

"Yes," he said in a very sad voice, then let out the sound of a heart heavy with the world he came across every working day. "It's said, crazy is the mirror image of sanity sometimes."

"I think it's coin and genius," she laughed.

"What?"

"Coin and genius. Insanity is the other side of the coin to genius, but mirror image is good." She snuggled closer and he slid his hand down her spine and back up.

"Well, I better get inside," she said, but he tightened his hold.

She looked up into his eyes and his lips came down. The warmth of him was compelling, intoxicating, and Georgie wanted more. She wanted to know, explore, just how badly he wanted her to stay out here with him... or in his car.

No, she thought. This could take her to a place from which she might not want to return. She was about to leave the warm shelter of his arms when that ill fitting puzzle piece came back.

"You know what's been bothering me about all this?"

"Talk about a mood breaker," he laughed, then cleared his throat with a soft breath mixed with a sigh as he tightened his hold. "Okay, Holmes. I'll bite. What is it?"

"Promise you won't laugh."

His chin nudged her head for her to continue.

"You said he took one round to the right temple."

His chest heaved and lowered while his heart upped its beat beneath her ear. "Yes."

"Why would a left handed man, who's afraid of blood, shoot himself, let alone in the right temple? Isn't that hard to do?"

She held her left hand to her right temple in a finger gun. "Feels very awkward."

"He was left handed?" he asked, taking hold of her finger gun, and pressed it to his lips.

"I watched him write out a check once a month. I am very sure he's left handed."

"George," he started to say, but his cell phone went off. "Dammit! If it's Tonie again, I swear... Montgomery here."

He listened for a moment. It wasn't Tonie, but a man's voice.

"Yes, I am. Why?" Mason asked.

Even in the shadowed night, Georgie saw Mason's features change; his eyes darting about the area, and the circle of his arms suddenly became more protective than caressing. It was as though he were trying to place her inside him, give her that protection he was unable to give Jenny.

"Right," he said. "We were just discussing that same question. So what are we looking at?"

When she heard his heart begin hammering violently in his chest, Georgie's concern rose, but she didn't move.

"That's not what I wanted to hear," he said, his voice low, intense. "Thanks for the heads-up." He flip-shut the phone and urged her to move. "George, back in the house. We need to talk to Nick."

Chapter twenty

As Mason told Nick about the phone call, Georgie shivered, her skin covered in a mass of icicle jabs.

"Aw dammit!" Nick burst out. "Not a suicide. Are they sure? Of course they are, otherwise why call you."

"Roberts said CST was very quick with their first assessment," Mason said, taking Georgie's hand. "Though the note does appear to be in his handwriting, they're sure the whole thing was staged. They're waiting for further info to come back before making it formal. Roberts just wanted me to know, for obvious reasons, what their first thoughts were."

Georgie slipped free of Mason's hold and went to the kitchen window to look out. Her back yard was now an alien world. This was a "B" movie, she thought, and it would seem the main character had just done the very cliché snubbing of her nose at the villain being killed off, and now the villain was bolting back from the dead.

"Whoever did it, was doing his best to make it work," Mason was saying.

As he spoke, Georgie let his words circle her mind, trying to see if the puzzle would come together. Being right about Jeffrey didn't make her feel better. It only brought more confusion.

"But left handed people normally do it with their left hand," Mason went on.

"Not always," Nick said. "He could have been ambidextrous."

"Already taken into consideration, but the angle of trajectory was off, powder burn pattern not consistent with close range as it should have been. According to Roberts, Bentley's feeling is that it was done in a hurry, spur of the moment thing. The set up was an after thought. Also, there was mud on the passenger side of the car."

Mud in his car? Never, Georgie thought, but before she voiced her thoughts, Mason went on, "And knowing what we know about Mr. Clean, mud is not something he would go to his grave with; not in his neat-ass Durango."

All of their words supported her assessment of Jeffrey. So why didn't she feel better? Cause being right didn't matter. Jeffrey had been killed and it all had something to do with her. But what? Why?

"Get away from the window," Nick told her.

She heard him, the sharpness in his voice sending a shock through her, but all Georgie could do was stare out at the night. I'm looking at you, looking at me, she mentally told whoever had murdered Jeffrey, and I am snubbing my nose at you. Screw you! Come get me. With that determination, she started a mental list of things to do. Her Slugger bat must be handy at all times. Time needed to be added to the motion detector lights so they stayed on longer. That way there would be no doubt if someone entered her driveway or her yard. Her eyes focused on her kitchen knives, the empty rose vase, then looked back out to the slope. Me looking at you looking at me.

"Georgie Girl! Get away from the window!" Nick hissed at her.

Iron-boned fingers gripped her shoulders, drawing her away from the hypnotic view of the yard and slope. She watched Nick let down the blinds and close them while Mason sat her back at the table.

"George, you need to stay with one of your kids."

"No!" she told Mason, shrugging off his hands. "I am not bringing my kids into this. I will make myself an open target before I put either one of my children within a mile of any crosshairs."

"Georgie Girl, listen..."

Bolting from the chair, she refused to let either of them touch her, and paced the floor. They wanted only her safety. She understood that, but she had to make them see. "My children will not be brought into it. Can I make myself any clearer?"

She opened the blinds and yanked the cord so the little slats snapped up like a shot. With arms crossed, leaning on the counter, she offered her back to whatever danger might be out there. She gave Nick a long cold stare. "And don't you even think about calling Cassie."

With a bow and hands up, he motioned surrender to her decision.

"Well, I'm not good with it," Mason said, coming to his feet. "George."

Georgie looked once into his eyes and knew she'd cave if she didn't pull away. He was close enough she could easily have put her cheek to his chest. Instead, she placed her hand there, urging him to listen, and above all, to believe her words. "I'm not doing it."

"Then come stay at my condo with me."

Mouth open, she stared into those soft gray eyes, felt their draw, too persuasive, and she looked to Nick. The insane just might give her some sanity.

But Nick waved a finger and shook his head. "Oh, no. No, no, no. I'm not entering this until the dust settles. You two battle it out."

She turned back to Mason. He was still intent, waiting for her answer. A part of her wanted to say yes, but the rational Georgie knew this was no reason for such a response, and she slowly moved away, feeling the edge of the counter slide across her back.

"You want me to just up and leave Daisy and Max?" she asked.

His surprise was easy to read; eyes blinking, mouth slightly open, but he swallowed hard and nodded. "Theeey can come too. Sure," he agreed, accepting her baggage.

"Oh, stop," she said, trying hard not to laugh, very touched by his kind offer, but there was reality. She tapped a finger to her chest. "I... me standing here. I have a business. I can't just leave that. I can't. I won't!" The air filling her lungs was clear and fresh, giving her back renewed determination. It surprised her that she could actually manage a smile. She gave him a quick hug. "Now, I'm going to bed and see if there's the slightest chance I can get some sleep. Good luck with that, I say, but good night, you two."

"Is she always this stubborn?" Mason asked Nick.

"My Man, you have absolutely no clue," Nick said, and his laughter followed Georgie down the hall.

~~0~~

"So fire my ass."

The words stirred Georgie; a murmuring hissing jab. Was it a dream? But it wasn't her voice... was it? She tried to open her eyes, but the lids were too heavy.

"It's not going to happen."

Once more she tried lifting those eyelids. Raise your head, she thought, lift it. But the pillow would not release her. She moved her leg and felt two lumps at the foot of her bed; Daisy and Max. Everything must be fine.

"Tell you what," the voice in the dream went on, but if this was a dream, why was there no screen? No picture? No faces? Lots of dialogue. "Here it is in itty bitty words... I am not leaving. You want me out so fucking bad, send someone here to help me with this. Fine. Don't bother with my severance package. See who else you can find to clean up your shit."

"Mason? Nick?" Georgie called out, or had she? Silence. Daisy and Max were still at her feet, Daisy wheezing as dogs do, while Max purred.

"Yesterday would not be soon enough." The words were raspy, harsh.

But this land of dreams was darker than night, more suffocating than the weight of Jeffrey's murder, and though she struggled with Morpheus, surrender was just beyond the haze in the horizon of her thoughts. What she did see, was a fuzzy bright red light... slowly becoming digital numbers on her clock, 3:30.

It wasn't all that important after all, she thought and turned to burrow into her soft pillow.

~~0~~

The strong aroma of rich brewing coffee working its way up Georgie's nose and a wet nuzzle from Daisy, sent Morpheus on his way. Georgie managed to open one eye. The clock said 7:00, and there was definite daylight coming through the blinds in her window. Two sharp knocks boomed in her head.

"Are you going to get up or what?"

"No. I want to be buried where I am."

"Oh, come on," Nick said, jostling her with a solid shake. "Little orange juice, and a glass of water before you shower, and you'll be fine. Come on, come on. Food'll be ready soon."

The food word did a flip-flop in her tummy, and Georgie made a quick dash to the bathroom. The little there was left in her stomach to heave, was torture to get out. When the last of the torment was done, she took slow easy steps down the hallway to the kitchen, fearing her head would drop off. Or maybe that wouldn't be so bad. On the counter sat a glass of orange juice and a glass of water. She took them as told. There was no arguing this morning.

Though she tried to ignore the food, it would not spare her. The bacon wasn't sizzling, it was hissing, and the eggs were just not friendly. Instead of looking back at you, they were glaring at her.

"Go take your shower. You look like hell."

"If I were alive, I would put you in your place," she said, and started for the hallway. "I would feel better if you hadn't kept me awake last night. Who were you talking to?"

"Me? I slept like a log, thank you very much. Don't go putting me in your erotic dreams. Take your shower and wake up."

God, how she wanted to banter, but she was certain it would hurt her head and kill some brain cells. She just didn't have that many left to lose, and she made her way to the shower... showers always made things better.

By the time her hair was dry, Georgie did feel almost alive and hunger was taking hold. She would have to keep Nick's hangover remedy on file. A sweatshirt and matching sweatpants was all she could manage. Daisy greeted her when she emerged from her bedroom while Max waited at the end of the hall to the kitchen.

The phone rang, a little too loudly, she thought, and Nick quickly picked up.

"She's awake," Nick was saying as she entered, and looked over at her. "Oh, yeah, very big head, but she'll make it." He held out the phone. "It's Mason. He's on his way here. Both Paula and Steven already called."

Before she could say anything, Nick raised both hands, the phone still in one, and popped out his explanation. "Lying wasn't going to work here, Georgie Girl. So I told the kids only what we know for sure. Until CST confirms our suspicions, the kids don't need to have that worry. And, they don't have to come by to check on you. Okay? So, did I do good or what?"

"Tell him he did good," she heard Mason say.

Georgie looked at the phone still in Nick's hand, snatched it, held it face up between them, and said, "Yes, you did good. Now, did you both hear that?" When they both answered, she sat down at the table. "How soon will you be here?" she asked Mason. "Nick can add more bacon and eggs to breakfast."

"I'm just up the road."

"Good. See you in a bit."

Georgie heard the little blip at the other end, but she hesitated pushing the END button on her phone. Odd, she thought. Wednesday evening, Mason was BADGE 747, a classmate, a handsome face, but just someone she knew. Now, Sunday morning, she hated even the thought of hanging up the phone while he was at the other end, could still feel the touch of his hand... his lips. A little flip to her stomach almost made her laugh, and it wasn't last night's tequila.

"And you're smiling, why?"

Georgie cleared her thoughts and put the phone back on its base.

"Ah, jessuz, you're blushing," Nick laughed, catching her chin between his fingers, from which she pulled free. "Okay, back to my cooking. Why don't you have real bacon instead of this turkey stuff? At least the eggs are real."

"What did the kids have to say?" she asked, ignoring his remark.

"Since yours truly is still here, they're resting easy with this. So long as they don't find out what CST suspects, it'll be fine. Cause Paula was already dressed and ready to come over."

"Oh, no."

"Calm down," he said, waving the spatula like a maestro at an orchestra. "Ryan is backing us on this and made her see she should keep herself ready for when you really need her. He was a good catch for Paula."

"I beg your pardon. My Paula was a good catch for him." She pointed a finger at him. "Top of her class in law. Let me tell you..."

"Not disputing that. Not disputing that," he agreed and set his sight on the task at hand. "They make a good match."

Georgie studied his features, that intense stare of his set on the noisy bacon in the pan. "You didn't have Ryan checked out, did you? No! Never mind. I don't want to know."

"I think you over estimate my..." Again the spatula baton waved. "My, my... powers."

"Hmmm." Georgie took a deep breath, a thousand thoughts drifted through her mind. She sipped her coffee slowly, let its flavor wake up her taste buds, and remembered the months on end Nick disappeared, then popped up out of nowhere. There were so many scenarios there. "I wonder."

"Put your writer's mind away," he said, openly shuddering. "And stop staring at me. Gives me the creeps."

"How come you never say where you've been?"

"I always tell you where I've been," he said, eyes set on the food going from the pan to a plate then into the oven to keep warm. "I'm known worldwide for my tales of where I've been. One day, I might even write a book of places I've been."

"Uh huh, yet I could not name one actual place you've been, let alone show a post card, that you've never sent, by the way."

"Bad Pennies don't write. They just show up."

"Why has no woman latched on to you?" she asked, giving him a long speculative glance, her mouth pressing then pursing in appreciation. "You're not that bad looking..."

"Now there's a compliment to be cherished."

Georgie laughed, sipped her coffee, but when her sight moved to the kitchen window, the shadow of last night crept over her, and she yanked her thoughts back to now. "You make good coffee," she said, trying to bring back the mirth of their morning. "I mean... good coffee, cooking breakfast. Women like that."

"They could never put up with you and Cassie."

"You've never brought one around."

"And if I did?"

Georgie rubbed her hands together and clasped them with joy at the prospect. "Then it would be Cassie's and my turn to check her out."

"Hence... no girl."

"But seriously, where..."

He jerked his head in the direction of the front yard. "That would be Mason's car coming."

"I didn't hear a car," she said, leaning, trying to glance out the slender window. All she saw was the shrubbery.

"Trust me," he said.

Georgie finally heard the tires grinding the gravel as they came up the drive, and Mason's car came to a stop, but her body wouldn't move, anticipation battling logic.

"Don't just sit there," Nick said. "I'll have the plates on the table by the time you two stop cooing and come back in."

"Yes, Daddy."

"Your father spoiled you. You won't get that from me. Go on."

Georgie rose to the limit the tips of her toes would allow and gave Nick a kiss on his cheek. "Ahh, a reprieve from direct answers. One day, Nicholas Underwood," she waved a finger as she went through the door, "one day, you will answer for me all those questions."

"Yeah, that'll be the day."

His words followed her out the door into the garage.

Chapter twenty-one

Mason was already opening the 4Runner door and setting down a leg to get out of his car. Georgie smiled, eager to see the rest of him, to have his arms around her. He didn't disappoint her.

"What are you doing out here without a coat?" he asked.

The protective circle of his arm was becoming a place Georgie liked occupying, the scent of his leather jacket a cologne she could get used to, day in day out. She looked to the ground, not wanting him to see what an easy mark she had allowed herself to become.

"Did you hear from Roberts?" she asked.

He wove long fingers through her hair in a caress, and guided her toward the house. "I'm afraid so. But Nick needs to hear this too."

"Is it that bad?" she asked, wondering just how much more twisted this could get.

"Still speculation, but Roberts isn't buying the suicide at all, not with what they found in the house."

The gravel crunched beneath their feet while the breeze whipped up. A distant low rumble made them turn. Neither said it, but Georgie knew they both felt the impending storm; a twister of a storm. Georgie refused to close her eyes.

"Let's go inside," Mason said, urging her on and into the house.

~0~

Nick placed the turkey bacon and eggs on the plates. "So someone was in Jeffrey's house?" he asked, while giving them toast.

Georgie looked at the breakfast that no longer interested her. Mason also showed disinterest in his offering, but nodded in answer. Nick dove right into his food.

"Listen you two," he said with a pointing fork. "Starving isn't helpful here, and I spent a lot of time cooking and keeping this warm. So eat up." After he swallowed and drank from his coffee, he looked to Mason. "So what did they find, and what did Roberts say?"

"They found cigarette butts, ammo."

Georgie froze, fork half way to her mouth. She swallowed hard, her mouth empty and dry. It wasn't until her fork clinked on the plate that she realized she had set it down, the food still speared on its prongs. Cigarette butts and ammo? How could she have been that wrong about Jeffrey? Those of her customers who stopped smoking and restarted, her nose quickly told on them. Yet, Jeffrey's Durango was clean of any odors; not just car-wash or detailed clean, but truly free of any tobacco odors. She spent two evenings inside it. Though the time had been brief, surely she would have detected signs, left over traces, something. And ammo?

"And?" Nick asked, cutting into her mental speculating.

At that one word, Georgie also looked to Mason. His face was drawn, his gray eyes dark, lacking any hint of his normal good nature. "Problem is, there were no ash trays."

"What?" Georgie said.

"Remember the garage?" Mason asked.

Sterile clean, Georgie thought, not a tool out of place, not even an oil spot.

"Ashes were found in saucers, not ash trays. There were even ashes on the floor, but no cigarette butts. The ammo was found not in its box but scattered in a kitchen drawer."

"No," Georgie said. She could not listen to this. "Jeffrey would never ever..."

"We know," Mason said.

"That's the point here, Georgie Girl," Nick added, and leaned back in his chair. "This simple stalking has definitely taken its ugly turn."

"Uglier than you think," Mason said.

Mason reached over and took her hand. Georgie nearly pulled away before contact. She had the ridiculous notion... if he didn't touch her, what he was about to say wouldn't be said, but he merely cupped his hand gently on hers, no grip, his fingertip giving her knuckle a tapping slide.

"George, have you any idea what Jeffrey might have been into?" he asked.

"I don't understand."

Mason looked into her eyes, then at Nick, then back at her, then down at her hands. He thought a moment and swallowed before lifting his sight to her and saying, "Roberts was in the perimeters of the CST investigation last night, keeping the neighbors away." He took a deep breath, his brows twitching before the right one arched high. "Two unmarked, black, Suburbans; official plates, arrived. Four men from each car got out and flashed some IDs. Roberts went in and got Bentley, head of the CST Team. Bentley made a phone call. At the end of the call, Bentley pulled his men out while the eight arrivals went in. An hour later, they came out. Had a few plastic bags with them. Declared the scene was not compromised, gave Bentley a list of items taken, and left."

"Oh, my God," Georgie heard herself say, but there seemed no connection between the sound and her lips.

"Roberts said he recognized their government seal, but it was neither Portland Police, FBI or CIA. Bentley's toes were clearly squashed. Roberts said Bentley was on the phone, but each call cut him off at the knees. Roberts said Bentley was fuming by the end of the last call."

For a long moment, no one said anything. Georgie pushed at her food then looked to Nick. When he lifted his gaze and met hers, he glanced at Mason, who was also looking at him.

"What?" Nick laughed quietly as he leaned back, the chair squeaking with his weight shift. "You want me to call the President and ask him what's up?"

Mason said nothing and set his sight on the last of his food. If it weren't so ridiculous Georgie would have pursued that nagging scenario she and Sam had played with regarding Nick. She started to get up, but Nick shook his head, his hand over hers.

"No," he said, indicating the food. "You eat that. I'm not having you undernourished. Eat."

When she silently pleaded that she couldn't, he gave her his infamous puppy-dog eyes and pleaded back, "For me, please."

Georgie indulged him, but each bite was hard to swallow. There was no telling if it was last night's tequila or the events. The meal seemed never ending, the eggs perfect, but cold; the bacon nice and crisp though also cold. Finally, quiet and still deep into her thoughts, Georgie picked up their plates, scraped them free of what could go down the disposal, then put them in the dishwasher. She went to the laundry room. Daisy and Max were quick, ran ahead of her, and scooted out their pet door.

"What do you think you're doing?" Nick asked.

"I'm going to clean Daisy's droppings."

"No, you're not."

"Nick, I'm not crawling in a hole and hiding," she said. Her words circled her mind, and she wondered if she meant them. "Things have to go on."

"I'll do it. Let me get my jacket."

"You're going to pick up Daisy's poop?"

"Trust me. It wouldn't be the first time I scooped up shit."

"On another day," she said, "I would ask you to elaborate, but not today?" She sat back down.

After Nick got his jacket and went outside, Mason cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair. "You know, any other man would be very skeptical of a guy hanging around and spending the night with the woman he's interested in."

All Georgie could do was search his face, eyes, all the little shadows and lines that make us who we are. Interested was an interesting word in itself; non-committal, no laying out of one's heart or soul for the possibility of stomping.

"I am interested, in case I haven't made it plain enough."

After a moment, Georgie smiled.

"Ah, so you have noticed."

"I've noticed," she half whispered. "But there's interest and there's interest. Do you think if this were being written into a novel it would be too many interests?"

"Most definitely," he said. He waited and she knew her evasion wasn't getting past him.

"Nick is Cassie. Cassie is Nick," Georgie said. "For one reason or another, we were each an only child, lonely. I moved in between them and within a year, we became the best of friends and each other's siblings, so to speak. No one and nothing will ever put that asunder... ever. When my mother died, then later my dad... Nick and Cassie were there for me. When Nick's mom and dad were killed in a plane crash, Cassie and I were there for him. Nick and I helped Cassie with her father's death and her mom's Alzheimer." She took in a deep breath. "April must accept the fact that Nick and I will always be in Cassie's life, just as you would have to accept Nick in my life... if you're that interested, I mean."

All Mason did was nod slowly, his eyes refusing to release her. Georgie caught her lower lip between her teeth before getting up to look out the window at Nick. He was picking up dog poop, and obviously muttering something to Daisy as she ran all over the yard, front paws prancing, while Max, as always, sat and watched from the patio table. Three kids, was Gorgie's first thought, and smiled, seeing Nick toss the bags in the trash can then pull up his collar against the wind and spitting rain whipping across the yard. He cupped his ear a moment then put something in his pocket.

Reality check, Georgie sighed. Yes, a reality check was needed here. Those three out there, plus Cassie and April, Paula and Steven were a fact. No trauma had brought them together and into her realm. The natural course of life had.

"Mason," she said, still looking out at her three dependants. "Emotions in this type of situation can run awry, you know... mix you up."

"Oh, stop."

"Hear me out, please."

He came to stand behind her, his hands rubbing affectionately up and down the length of her arms. Even through her thick sweatshirt, the touch was electric, and she leaned back into him, then moved forward to break the contact, wanting to keep a clear head. They were being pulled into a swirling vortex and one of them needed to grab hold of something, give them time to think, to reason.

"I'd like you to think about something before you say anything more about your interest in me," she forced herself to say. "Can you do that?"

"Okay," he said, taking a step back.

She turned around, her back against the sink, but she couldn't look at him. She would lose her nerve if she did. "I don't want you to confuse me and this... this thing that's going on around me with what happened to Jenny. It would be cruel to both of us."

"You think that's what this is?"

"I'm saying everything is... crazy right now... complicated."

When he moved away to the chair holding his jacket, she was overwhelmed with the hurt, his and hers. It was as though she had slapped him, and she wanted to take it back. But watching him slip into his jacket, now a heavy load on his shoulders, she accepted there was no undoing it. This was something that could not be deleted, and it had needed saying. They had to know who they were falling in love with. Yes. The love word. What else could she call this feeling growing inside her for this man? But committing to a lie would be too horrible for both of them, the scar ugly and too long lasting.

"Nick hanging around for a while?" Mason asked from the door.

She nodded with an added shrug. "Or, at least until the moment he leaves." She smiled, but it felt stiff, fake, lipstick put on wrong.

"You shouldn't be alone right now. I mean that. No confusing you with anyone else. Just be safe."

"Mason, I..."

"No," he said. "You're right. Life was easier when I was just BADGE 747. But... no matter what you say. We can't go back to that."

"No. I don't want to go back to that. But when we go forward I want it to be without ghosts, and for the right reason."

"At least you said when and not if." He opened the door, but didn't go through. He turned. "If I find out anything else from Roberts, I'll let you know. If Nick leaves, will you call me?" When she hesitated, he added, "Or at least call Cassie or one of your kids. You shouldn't be alone."

"I'll call you." When he turned to leave, she said, "Mason. I don't have your number."

"I can fix that," he said, and handed her his card. "I thought you were never going to ask. My cell number is written on the back. Put it in your speed dial."

"Don't you want my cell number?" she asked when he was about to close the door.

This time, he grinned, wide and perfect. "Nick's not the only one with certain abilities." He pointed a finger and added, "Remember that." He reached around the door, turned the lock, and closed it.

Georgie had no clue how long she stood there staring at the closed door, its lock set.

"That Mason's car leaving?" Nick asked, coming in from the cold.

"You know it is."

"What did you do to make him leave?"

"What makes you think it was something I did?" she demanded to know, putting soap in the dishwasher, then closed the washer door. She flinched at her slamming of it.

"Because I know you."

"You know me." This was new, she thought, taking the dish-sponge to wipe off the table. "How could you possibly know me, Mr. Never Around?"

"I know you because I know you. You're getting too comfortable in your life alone. You can't play it safe all your life. That little safe harbor of yours will get iced in and very lonely."

"It was nothing like that." She wished she had bitten her tongue before uttering one word. Damn him, anyway! And she wiped the clean surface with angry swipes.

"So you admit it was something you said."

"No. Yes. I guess." She had to swallow and take a deep breath to keep from crying. "I don't want to be a remedy or a replacement."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The evaporating moisture left by the sponge on the table surface held her focus until the breeze outside scraped a shrub twig across the window. "You know how his wife died?" she asked.

"9/11, plane out of Boston" he said, as though it was something everyone knew.

Mouth open, she turned to stare at him, surprised, yet not surprised. "How the fuck do you know these things?!"

"Oh, you are worked up," he said, and went over to tap her head. "Don't use that word. It doesn't sound right coming from you."

"Oh, and it sounds better coming from you? Don't think so."

"Back to the subject here."

There was no getting the words out. Each time she tried, they gagged her until she let herself drop into the chair. "She died on 9/11!" The words spewed from her like vomit of guilt. "She died... on 9/11. And he could do nothing. Nothing. He carries the weight of the powerlessness... that he could do nothing."

The obvious question hung out there, but she could see Nick was not seeing the problem. How could he be so smart yet so damned dense? She motioned for him to catch up here and see her maelstrom, offer her a lifeline, tell her she was right.

His light brown eyes peered at her in a side-glance while his head shook in quandary. "Okay, I'm confused. What am I missing here? He wasn't screwing around on her or she on him. The woman is tragically dead, Georgie Girl. It's the fault of the fucking terrorists, not yours, not Mason's. What is the problem?"

Her reasoning seemed almost silly now, and she didn't want him laughing at her. She was close to laughing at herself. "Jenny, his wife, died on the plane coming out of Boston. He said so himself he could not protect the one closest to him. Is he trying to save me as a replacement? His penance and mistaking it for... love. I don't want to live in her shadow, always wondering."

"You think it's easy for Dudley Do-Right to step into Sam's place?"

"What? It's not the same," she told him. It wasn't. How could he compare the two? And yet. She felt a stab to a place that nearly made her double over with an outcry.

She sucked in air, saw herself running through the ER, looking for Sam, a police officer motioning her to a room, the smell of sterilizers and antiseptics nearly gagging her. When she found him, he was sleeping in a room with gauze and gloves strewn all over, machines all quiet, no beeping lights. She talked to him, his cheek cold against hers, telling him everything would be fine, until a nurse came rushing in with Steven and Paula to tell her, Sam had died minutes before she got there. She had been home sleeping in a chair waiting for him, while he lay dying... until the police notified her and brought her to the ER.

"I wasn't there when he needed me most," she whispered, and the tears she thought had long ago dried up, began to flow. Strong arms circled her tightly. "I wasn't there, and he died among strangers!"

"Yeah, you were, Georgie Girl," Nick whispered. "You were there."

Chapter twenty-two

The familiar train whistle made its way into Georgie's dreams, the darkness giving way to daylight, but it turned out to be Nick opening the drapes. She had cried herself to sleep in the recliner. There was no memory of leaving the kitchen or sitting, only the raving cries for things that can't be undone, and she breathed deeply under the warmth of the afghan. A high pitch crackling made her turn. Nick had started a fire in the fireplace. Its heat felt good, homey. The hearth had been dormant too long.

"That was dumb of me," she said to Nick. "Sorry I put you through that. How long was I out?"

"No, it wasn't dumb. And it was way overdue. You've been asleep about an hour or so." Deep furrows formed across his forehead as he pointed a finger at her, while letting his mouth twitch into that half-scolding grin of his. "If you hadn't chased Mason away, he would have been here for you."

"You're probably right," she answered with a deep sigh. "But would it have been for the right reason?"

"Well, Georgie Girl, here's something for you to consider. A good detour winds up taking you to the right place."

"You have your jacket on," she said, letting his statement pass.

"I have to go out for a bit. I called Cassie. Told her what was going on and..."

"Oh, Nick, you didn't."

"She needed to be told. She's coming over. I thought about calling Dudley Do-Right, but I decided you both needed a breather... sort things out. You know. Besides, I won't be gone long."

"No one ever had more treasured sibs than I," she smiled at him, and he grinned back.

"Yeah? Make sure you remember that." He looked out the window. "Cassie's here. Oh, good. She brought April." He picked up his helmet. "You know she put in eight years in the service?"

"Who? April?"

"Well, I don't mean Cassie," he answered, his face pulling into a smirk. "Four of those years in Special Forces."

"Oh, stop," she told him. Quiet, easy going April? No way, she thought.

Nick looked almost comical as he slipped on his helmet with that believe-me-or-not grin, leaving the straps hanging loose. "Okay. But I'm telling you. She's a kick-ass my kind'a gal."

April offering that gun to her for protection came to mind, but Georgie shook it off, replaced by scenes from thriller action movies with armed swat teams and special forces. April's face wouldn't slip into the character. No. No way. "Yeah, okay," she told Nick.

"So don't believe me. Makes no difference to me."

Georgie got up, folded the afghan, and followed Nick through the kitchen. As she activated the garage door, Nick was already straddling his bike as Cassie and April approached.

April and Nick touched knuckles, sending strange vibes through Georgie. Could Nick be telling the truth? He was such an enigma, yet so... precious to her and Cassie. But what about all the little tid-bit info he constantly came up with? Where did he get it all?

"Jeeez, Georgie. What am I going to do with you?" Cassie asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and Georgie just smiled back, letting the mystery of Nick slide away. It just felt good to be hugged by someone who was both sister and friend to her. "Hey, you've been crying."

"Just a little," Georgie said.

"More than a little," Nick said, "but she needed it."

Nick's motorcycle roared, the sound a painful shrill in Georgie's ears. He rolled the hideously large bike forward, stopped to adjust the helmet and set the strap. With a wide grin, he gave them a thumbs-up. They watched him make the arc in the drive and go down the slope of the driveway.

"Come on. I'll make us some coffee," Georgie said, listening to Nick's motor fade away.

"You still have some tea?" April asked. "Earl Grey with a touch of Chamomile?"

Georgie laughed, nodding. "Yes, I do." Special Forces and tea, she thought. Right. She led them inside, accepting that her Nick was, after all, a ninny. But he was their ninny and they would have him no other way.

"My, God," Cassie said as they sat at the kitchen table, each sipping their drink of choice. "Shyness." Referring to Jeffery. "It's hard to believe he could be a stalker, let alone kill himself."

Georgie sipped her espresso. She couldn't face Cassie and lie. Agreeing with her statement was a form of lying and it rubbed her wrong.

"What?" April asked.

Offering April only a quick glance, Georgie then set her sight on her espresso latte. The seconds of silence stretched out, becoming louder than a scream, until Cassie reached over and tapped the rim of Georgie's cup.

"What are you not telling us?" she asked.

Unable to face Cassie, Georgie looked up at April and immediately regretted it, remembering her dad's soft yet knowing gaze when she kept things from him. Never could Georgie lie to her dad, but keeping the truth from him was as bad as a lie, and he always knew it. April had somehow captured such a pose, and Georgie began telling them what CST suspected, leaving out what Mason had repeated about the eight men arriving midst the crime scene investigation. That was just too bizarre to repeat.

"But that means..."

"Yup," Georgie said, looking at Cassie. "There's the possibility someone is still out there wanting to... I don't know. Get at me? Hurt me? Maybe even..."

"Don't!" Cassie erupted. "Don't even say it."

"It would be foolish not to consider the possibility," April murmured, and rose from the table. She went to the security panel, pushed the test button. It gave off its I'm working beep. She went to the motion detector box. "I'm setting it for..." She glanced about the house. "For fifteen minute delay, giving you fifteen minutes of light. No if ands or buts. You'll know."

"I was going to do that," Georgie tried to explain, but in truth, she had forgotten all about it.

"No go'na about it," April said, sitting back down. "It's done."

"That's why I love her," Cassie said. A mere second passed before her brows pulled to the center. "Hey. Why isn't M&M here? I really thought he would be here."

"Cassie," April said in a low voice.  
"What?"

April sighed, shaking her head. Her eyebrows lifted high in disbelief, her eyes closing.

"What? He should be here," Cassie insisted.

With the utmost of patience in her voice, April said, "The fact that he's not here should tell you something, like... mind your own business."

"Georgie, and bringing kids into the world, is my business."

Not knowing if she could go through the whole thing again, Georgie got up and served them more coffee and tea then let Daisy out in the laundry room. She heard the little flapping of the doggie door followed by her bark, then quiet. She looked out the window. Daisy was fine, doing her thing with the perimeter of the yard. Georgie turned back to her waiting friends. As she listened to herself recount what happened between her and Mason, the logical reasoning sounded so negligible, so minor, but the pain she felt was hardly that.

"For what it's worth, I think you were right bringing it to the table," April said, and Georgie knew relief that someone else understood. She wasn't being absurd or silly.

"What?" Cassie stared at April. "How can..."

"Emotions run rampant in life threatening situations," April said. "It is what it is."

"But M&M faces this all the time," Cassie argued. "I don't see him confusing every female in danger with his wife."

"But Georgie isn't just any other case to Mason. She was a classmate; personal, one on one. It's an emotional adrenaline rush. That's why a lot of female/male cop partnerships become relationships when they shouldn't, and wind up destroying marriages. Those partnerships eventually go belly up, but by then the damage is done. They both need to examine those feelings before they get in too deep."

Tonie, Georgie thought. April's words hit home in a different way, different from Jenny. But Mason had stated his feelings toward Tonie. She had to take his word on that, but every relationship has a second person. How did Tonie feel about Mason? A deep sigh failed to lift the weight settling on her heart.

"Can you take me to visit Sam?" Georgie said, grabbing her coat and patted the pocket for her garage door remote. "I need to speak with him," she said, picking up her cell phone and slipping it in her pants pocket.

~~0~~

After stopping to get a salmon pink rose, Georgie found little to say on the drive to Shady Oaks Cemetery. The road was long, winding, lined with oak and laurel trees, the ground covered with wild shrubs. It was a small cemetery, but Sam's father and mother were buried here and so it seemed very appropriate that her Sam be with them, and it overlooked Sam's beloved Portland. The sun broke through the dark clouds of the passing rain as they drove through the wrought iron arches, sending rays of light throughout the hallowed grounds. The affect was mystic, ethereal, enshrining.

There were a few cars parked along the circling lane, their owners visiting their loved ones even on this crisp misty day.

"Over there," Georgie said, leaning forward; felt her cell phone slide from her pant pocket, and shoved it back in. She'd forgotten her dislike of these particular sweat pants for that one reason. "Near those oaks."

"I remember," April said, her voice solemn; Cassie sighing deeply.

Georgie knelt at the gravesite, ignoring the damp grass. She wiped away the various gold and yellow oak leaves before placing the rose in the little pewter holder by the marble nameplate. April and Cassie inserted their flowers next to hers. After buffing the plate to a shine with the corner of her coat, Georgie slid her fingertips over the engraved name, dates and words: One who loved and is loved.

"Don't ever give me a headstone," Sam had always told her. "I don't want you tied to a cold unfeeling monolith."

"But what if I die before you?" she had laughed.

"Don't you dare." Those few words lingered like his after-shave, his laugh, the weight of his arm on her shoulders.

Somewhere behind her, Georgie felt, more than heard, Cassie and April walk away, leaving her and Sam alone.

"Oh, Sam," she whispered, after a heartbeat of silence. "Why didn't you let me go with you that night? Oh, never mind. I don't want to hear it." Her shoulders, heavy, burdensome, dropped. "He's very nice, you know, this Mason Montgomery; very kind. I think the kids like him." A smile tugged at her mouth. "Well, Paula almost likes him. But she always was your little girl. That hasn't changed. Steven? He's still listening to that drum beat only he can hear. What a doctor he'll make."

Autumn leaves sailed across the cemetery grounds, a few landing on Sam's grave. Georgie smiled and picked them off, rolling one between her fingers.

"I wish you could give me a sign, give me the okay to move on, tell me I'm not somehow being unfaithful to you by letting this man in my life." A breeze brushed across her cheeks and fluttered her lashes. "We had a love, you and I, didn't we?" She waited. No thunder. No lightening. No grand message, and the weight would not leave her. "You're letting me make this decision, aren't you?" Still no answer, and she stood to look down at the plate, exasperation overwhelming her. "Then you shouldn't have done such a good job of taking care of me, damn it! You should've prepared me... somehow... to deal... to..."

Moments drifted with the clouds before a strange quiet laugh rumbled in her, and she found it comforting in a way that puzzled her. She knelt once more and touched her fingers to the plate. "Okay. I hear you."

Georgie felt, but didn't turn at the gentle touch on her shoulder. It was Cassie. "Georgie," she said. "We should go. April wants us in the car."

"What's wrong?" Georgie asked, looking about.

The few people who had been visiting gravesites were gone or walking back to their cars, the rays of sunlight also gone. The rumble was low, distant, but growing more threatening.

"She says it looks a like a downpour."

"Okay, Sam," Georgie smiled down at the marble plate. "I hear you. I'm leaving."

They ran to the BMW whose motor April already had running. By the time they closed the doors, raindrops began dotting the windshield. Georgie hadn't even buckled her safety belt when she saw April look in the rear view mirror, side mirror, and pushed the gas pedal. The jolt forward pressed Georgie into the seat with a tilt. Her cell phone slipped out of her pocket and she shoved it back in.

"April," Cassie scolded, while Georgie struggled with the buckle.

"Are we trying to outrun the rain?" Georgie asked, swaying with the swerving April was doing.

"Sure, why not?" April asked, driving through the wrought iron arches and onto the highway.

Cassie poked her head between the seats to look back at her. "Well? Did Sam give you the answers you were looking for?" she asked.

"True to form," Georgie sighed. "He's letting me make the decision."

"Good for him," Cassie smiled. "You know the answer. Otherwise you wouldn't be asking the question. You just wanted Sam to tell you not to, but he would never do that."

"I know," Georgie murmured, more to herself than to answer Cassie.

They moved along the long winding road, their speed now and then rising then slowing. Georgie noticed April kept looking into the rear view mirror, the side mirror, then back into the rear view mirror. Just as Georgie turned to see what April was so concerned with, April stepped on the gas and Georgie was thrust back against the seat. All Georgie caught was a quick peek at the front end of a dark vehicle making its way around the bend behind them. A long wide turnout came up, and April pulled the car off the road.

The Durango, Georgie thought. This was enough! She pushed the door open and was half out when April, already out of the car, shoved her back in and slammed the door. She put her weight against it, keeping Georgie in.

"April! Let me out, goddamn it!"

"What is going on?" Cassie asked, unsnapping her seat belt.

April stood in the drizzle, leaning on the door, arms crossed, looking at the road behind them, waiting. Georgie tried to look out the back window as she slid across the seat to get out on the other side and saw the dark SUV sitting there just at the tip of the bend.

"April!" both Georgie and Cassie shouted. At that same moment they heard the gunning rev of an engine and the squeal of tires on the damp payment. The massive vehicle roared toward them. April leapt over the short hood of the BMW as the dark Durango sped by, almost sideswiping them, and would have struck April if not for her fast action.

Cassie screamed, but April was quick on her feet. Georgie froze, seeing April reach behind and beneath her jacket at the waist to draw out a gun. But she never fired.

"Dammit!" April swore as the Durango rounded the far curve and disappeared.

Georgie and Cassie bolted from the car. Cassie wrapped her arms around April. The tall willowy April leaned into Cassie's embrace as she shoved the gun back into the waist holster. "I'm fine," she told Cassie.

Georgie stared after the dark SUV, blinking as raindrops landed on her lashes and cheeks.

Chapter twenty-three

Georgie and Cassie tugged at April to get her out of the rain that was now turning into the predicted downpour and back into the car. But even as they coaxed and prodded, the tall quiet woman kept her eyes fixed on the winding road that had swallowed up the Durango. As Georgie looked into April's eyes, she saw a glint of something she had seen only a few times; once in Nicks eyes when Blake Hartz, a high school senior, had her pinned to the lockers, pressing himself to her. Her angry fists were hardly a deterrent. Nick came around the corner of the hall, yanked Blake off, threw him to the far wall, slamming him into the lockers there. The week's suspension didn't bother Nick. His parents and her dad made certain Blake got the same amount of suspension time.

Okay. But I'm telling you. She's a kick-ass my kind'a gal. This time, Nick's words were more difficult to shove aside as she and Cassie urged April into the passenger seat. Cassie hurried to the driver side and got behind the wheel.

"Well, I guess one question's been answered," Cassie said, easing the car onto the road. "It wasn't Shyness doing this."

"I should have been faster!" April burst out. "Dammit!"

Georgie could hear the voices, words, but wasn't really listening. All she could think of was, now her friends had been pulled into this madness. "I am so sorry to drag you guys into this," she said, "God, what have I done?"

"Both of you, stop!" Cassie ordered. "Damn, I can't see past this down pour." Cassie pulled off to the roadside.

"Nick should never have called you," Georgie said, hand over her mouth, letting herself jostle with the abrupt stop, then covered her eyes. "God what have I done? He should never have called you."

"Just stop," Cassie said, then reached over and squeezed April's hand. Cassie then looked back to Georgie. "And you, back there. Listen to me. I would have hammered Nick if he hadn't called me. So just stop, the both of you."

Cassie reached below the dash and pushed a button on the car phone. "What's M&M's number?"

Georgie dropped back into the soft seat. Mason's card with his number was on the kitchen table. She meant to put his number into her cell, but Nick coming in from the outside, asking about Mason leaving, had erased that promised intention.

"Tell me you have it," Cassie said.

"He gave me his card," Georgie said, "but it's sitting on the kitchen table. God, I am so stupid!"

Cassie gave her a glance through the rearview mirror. "When you get through taking all the blame for something you have no control of, you can keep an eye out for that Durango. It was a Durango, right?" she asked April, while reaching over to give her soul mate's hand another squeeze.

April nodded. "Tinted windows. I couldn't see who was driving and I'm sure there was no plate... front or back. It's long gone by now. I can't believe how slow I was. Dammit!"

What was it Nick said? Georgie tried to remember. "You know why I didn't get anything off the plates? There were no plates, nothing." Well, whoever was doing all this was definitely lethal and... bolder; no longer hiding in the dark of night.

"April," Cassie was saying, her voice carrying that gentle bedside manner she was known for. "Cut yourself a break here. Okay?"

Georgie loosened her safety belt and leaned forward to touch April's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah," April said with a return pat. "But I'll tell you right now, and we won't take no for an answer; if Nick doesn't come home tonight, we're spending the night, or you're coming home with us. One or the other."

Georgie ground her teeth. "No." She would not have those close to her in danger. But isn't that what just happened?

"She doesn't listen worth a damn, does she?" April asked, while sucking in air then let it gush out as she rolled her head on the seat headrest.

"She's never listened to Nick or me," Cassie said, steering the car back onto the road. The cloud burst had past and the rain was all but gone.

"Don't you understand?" Georgie asked. How could she make them see? "Someone killed Jeffrey because of me; because he somehow got in the way. I will not have anyone else..."

"This is insane," Cassie said. "Stop and absorb this. You, Georgina Gainsworth, are not responsible for the actions of some nutso."

A nutso, Georgie thought. Where does a nutso come from? What sets them off? She'd seen many movies and read so many books about stalkers, obsessive personalities, and in each case something big or insignificantly small sets all things in motion. She wanted to melt into the car seat, become invisible, redo the last five days of her life and undo whatever had been the cause of all this... if she only knew what that was.

Other than muted traffic sounds, the drive was easy and quiet until April looked back at her between the seats and said, "Georgie. Since you won't take the gun I offered, you might keep that slugger bat of yours handy."

"I never realized you actually carried a gun," Georgie said, and though the picture was still hard to form, the idea of April being in special forces was... an interesting scenario to play with. She wanted to ask, but figured if April wanted her to know, she would have told her long before now, but then again, maybe not.

"I don't normally carry one, but I thought the situation being what it is, it might be a good idea to bring backup"

"I don't like you carrying that thing," Cassie said.

"And that's why I didn't tell you I was bringing it," April said, pressing her head back against the headrest. "Makes life so much easier and quiet when I don't tell you things you don't want to hear."

"Are you telling me to shut up?"

"I would never dream of telling you that," April said softly. "I'm asking that you drop the subject. That's all."

Georgie caught Cassie's look in the rearview mirror. "I think she was telling me to shut up."

"Is it going to work?" was all Georgie would venture to ask, and made sure she held back any show of the tiny bit of humor she found in the moment.

A loud over-done growl erupted from Cassie as she slapped the steering wheel. "I just hate it when you two gang up on me. Really I do."

"Then don't make us gang up on you," April murmured, eyes closed while she put a fingertip at her lips to shush Cassie.

Georgie had to admit her mood was lifting hearing her friends' banter, and seeing Cassie frown benignly at April.

"Hummp," Cassie murmured.

By the time they neared Georgie's street the rain had stopped completely. After Cassie made the turn she pulled to the side of the road and stopped.

"You sure you don't want to grab a quick lunch somewhere?"

Georgie shook her head. "Nick's breakfast is still with me."

"Okay." Cassie steered back onto the street and drove on until they came to the mouth of her driveway; made the turn and went up the slope.

Mason's black 4Runner sat in front of her house. Every nerve in Georgie's body screamed for her to jump from the car and run to him, feel his nearness, nestle in the safety of his arms, and taste his lips once more. But it was she that built the fence, and she had to honor it.

"Guess you won't have to call him," Cassie said, and turned off the ignition.

"Can you behave?" April asked of Cassie.

Georgie saw the impish glint brighten Cassie's eyes, and decided to get out of the car and talk to Mason first. No telling what would come out of Cassie's mouth in the mood she was in.

By the time Georgie unlatched her safety belt and opened her door, Mason was out of his car and leaning against it.

"How long have you been waiting?" Georgie asked him.

"Just a couple of minutes, but I'm glad I waited," he said. He wasn't quite smiling, but there was a hint of one, and Georgie was warmed by the small flame. Perhaps her own doubts had not destroyed a friendship.

"You didn't actually think I was inside and didn't want to come out?"

"I have to confess, the thought did cross my mind," he said, and this time it was more than a hint of a smile. "But I nixed it. It isn't something you'd do."

Georgie didn't reach for his hand, but took a pinch of his jacket sleeve to guide him to the garage as she flicked the remote door opener. "A sainted one, I'm not," she said, "But I'd like to think it's something I wouldn't do."

"Your hair's all wet."

"Yeah, I know. Come on in," Georgie said, pulling at the damp strands. "We have lots to tell you."

"Okay, guys," she called to Cassie and April, and motioned them to come in. They had been subtly busying themselves with some thing on the hood of the BMW. As the wide door raised up into the rafters, Georgie saw Mason take notice Nick's motorcycle was gone. He offered her only a quick glance, but said nothing and she grasped his arm.

"Before he left, Nick called Cassie," she murmured. "He didn't leave until they got here. That's the only reason I didn't call you." She unlocked the kitchen entry to let them in then activated the garage door. With a soft rattle, it began its slide down.

Mason's brow furrowed.

"What?" she asked.

He looked to Cassie, April and the door clanking into place. "Where's Daisy? Isn't she with you?"

"What?"

"I've been here a while and she never came to the gate."

Georgie had been so elated to see him, she gave no thought to Daisy not greeting her at the fence, and she literally shoved her way into the house. "Daisy! Max!" She couldn't get the laundry room door opened fast enough. "Daisy! Max!"

Mason grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the outside door. She found herself being placed in April's firm grasp.

"Damn!" Mason's voice came through, and Georgie fought her way free.

Near the patio, lay Daisy. Max was sitting beside the Schnauzer, looked up at them, then down, but did not move from Daisy's side.

"Daisy!" Georgie screamed, running to her.

Mason had been kneeling, but quickly stood to stop her. "She's not dead, George. She's breathing. Cassie."

"I'm on it," Cassie said, rushing past them. "April, get my bag. It's in the back of the car." She dropped to the grass and began touching, probing. She opened Daisy's mouth.

"Please, I have to go to her," Georgie told Mason.

"Okay, but let Cassie do what needs to be done."

She and Mason inched closer making sure they kept out of Cassie's way. Georgie could hear a tiny wheeze in Daisy's shallow breathing. April came running carrying Cassie's dark satchel. With plastic gloves on and stethoscope in place, Cassie listened. Georgie watched as she opened Daisy's mouth again, pulling back the soft skin to expose the teeth and gums. When Cassie withdrew her fingers, Georgie saw they held small chunks of something half chewed.

"Georgie, I need to put this in a plastic bag. Where's your vet? We need to get Daisy there."

Running into the house, guilt tormented Georgie; that she had been so into herself and this growing feeling for Mason, she hadn't noticed Daisy's absence. She grabbed the box containing the poop-baggies, yanked the vet's magnetic business card from the side of the dryer, and ran back out. Her hands trembled as she tried to pull out a single bag.

"Here," Mason said, taking hold of her hands, and managed to get out one bag.

With great care, Cassie placed the specimen into the bag. Mason closed it, put it in his pocket. Georgie hadn't realized April had taken the Vet's card from her until she heard the beep, beep of her punching the number into her cell phone.

"Mason, we need Daisy in the car," Cassie said.

Seeing Daisy hang limply in Mason's arms, Georgie tasted bile and swallowed hard to settle her stomach; anger rising to the surface.

"What do you want from me!" she shouted into the slope of trees. "What the hell do you want from me, goddamn it?"

When arms wrapped around her, Georgie fought until she heard a quiet, "Come on, Kiddo. Daisy will need you. Come on. Get Max. He needs to be inside. He won't go with anyone but you."

Reason returned and Georgie nodded sharply. "Max," she called, but he was already following the group into the house. "Max!" She barely reached him in time to keep him from going out the kitchen door behind Cassie and Mason.

"I'm going with Mason," Cassie called back from the garage. "You guys make sure you lock up."

"Leave the lights on," Mason said, panting through the words while carrying Daisy. "No motion detectors. Leave them all on."

While Georgie punched in her code on the security panel and put it on manual, April went about the house turning on every light there was. Georgie locked the back door, turned the dead bolt, and latched the doggie door. She opened the cabinet above the washer and dryer and pulled out Max's carrier.

"Come on, Max. I'm not leaving you."

"Good idea," April said, reaching back to the holster at her waist.

Their eyes met.

Chapter twenty-four

Georgie's mouth dropped open. It was still a jolt to see and associate quiet April with a gun.

After a second, April smiled and adjusted the holster. "Just checking," she said, then quickly sobered with a hand out to stay Georgie's objection. "Just cause I have it doesn't mean I'm going to use it. I could have fired some wild shots at that Durango, but didn't. So don't freak out on me. Okay?" Her mouth tugged at the corner. "Though I should have fired at least once to mark it."

"Right now, I'd be glad to shoot the bastard that's doing this!" Georgie bit down hard. The words and anger behind them were a caustic acid eating at her insides. Before April could say anything, Georgie motioned her out the door while Max complained about the sharp jostling. "Let's take my car. I know where we're going."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Georgie forced a smile and nodded. "I'm okay. Not completely down... and okay."

~0~

The instant Georgie and April entered the Healthy Pet Stop, Mason stood and said, "Cassie's in with the vet."

Georgie let herself be led to the wooden bench in the reception area. She set Max's carrier at her feet, his meowing very low, and April sat next to her with a shoulder nudge of support.

"It'll be okay," April said.

Georgie forced a weak smile in answer, then leaned into Mason's shoulder. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. The three sat, letting the quiet settle in.

"What were you going to tell me back at the house?" Mason asked after long endless minutes of waiting.

Georgie looked to the door marked: EMPLOYEES ONLY, and retold the incident at Shady Oaks Cemetery. Mason slipped his arm free of her hold and wrapped it around her.

"It was a fool thing to do," he told April. "But I'm very glad you were there."

"Just wish I had gotten some information for the police."

Georgie felt Mason loosen his hold to grasp April's shoulder in gratitude. Georgie too reached for April's hand and squeezed it just as the EMPLOYEE door swung open. Georgie shot to her feet and rushed to Cassie. "How's Daisy? Is she okay?"

"It's good and not good."

Georgie stifled a cry, her stomach tightening with such a jolt she was afraid it would spew its contents.

"Was it poison?" Mason asked.

"No, but just as bad. Tranquilizer. Massive dose. Doctor Kane pumped out her stomach. He's sure they got most of the tainted meat she ate. It was a good thing we found her when we did."

"I should have known something was wrong when she didn't come out like she normally does," Mason said.

Georgie went to Mason and wrapped her arms around him.

"We could still lose her," Cassie said, her voice low and heavy with caution. "We have to wait and see if the vet's magic potion works and if Daisy will fight. But for now, we should all go home."

"No," Georgie murmured. "I can't go home."

"George."

"I need to be here," she said, giving Mason a squeeze for him to understand.

"Okay," he murmured.

"Georgie?" Cassie said, reaching for Max.

Georgie pulled free of Mason's arms and grabbed Max's carrier. There was no complaint from Max.

"Oh, God," Cassie said, and Georgie looked inside the cage.

"Max!" she shouted and shook the carrier. There was no reaction. His eyes were closed, but not normally so, and his tongue was hanging out.

"He must have gotten some of that meat," Cassie said, opening the wire door, and pulled out a very limp bundle of fur. She disappeared behind the door, leaving Georgie once more outside, wondering and afraid.

What would have happened had she not brought him, she thought, letting herself drop onto the hard bench?

"Mason, we need to talk," April said, getting up.

But when Mason tried to rise, Georgie latched on to his arm. "What could you possibly say that could make me feel any worse than I feel right now? You want to talk, talk here."

"You're right," April said, sat back down, smoothed a hand over her short hair as she took in a long, hard and determined breath. "Things are escalating here and we have zilch to go on."

"Yeah, I'd say so," Mason agreed, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped under his chin.

Georgie listened to the tone in their voices, heard their deep sighs, and saw the concern in the tight facial muscles as they focused a blank stare at nothing. She re-ran the events in her head, then found she needed to verbalize them, have the words work their way in her ears. "First it was Raggs... then the rose. I know those two things are connected. But doesn't a rose usually mean love?"

"Remind me never to send you a rose," Mason said softly, making a small steeple with his index fingers.

"What happened?" Georgie asked, offering the question to no one in particular. "What could have caused that... that leap from so called love to lethal?"

She looked into Mason's gray eyes, and wanted very much to believe the tenderness she saw there was for her and not a memory. She noticed beard stubble and smoothed her fingertips the length of his jaw line, enjoying the bristly sensation beneath her nails.

"I guess I forgot to shave," he said, taking those fingertips and pressed them to his lips.

When he kissed them, a smile came easily to her, without battle, but said nothing, afraid of what she'd say. Instead, Georgie looked to the EMPLOYEES ONLY door. That was a mistake. She had to think of something else or she'd break down.

She turned to April. "Okay, back to things speeding up here. You're right. They are... but I think it's because this wacko must have made a mistake. We just haven't found it."

"What do you mean?" April asked.

What do I mean? Come on. The thought was there. Don't lose it, Georgie told herself. Talk it out. "He must have left a clue somewhere that could lead the police to him. So whatever he wants or is going to do, he needs to do it soon, or be caught. Daisy wasn't about to let him in the yard. That's why she was poisoned." With a solid slap to her thighs, she got to her feet and began pacing, then stopped. "But what does he want? That's what I don't understand. Had it been Jeffrey, I could have understood, but I just don't think it would have come to this. Why murder him? What did he do? Did he somehow find out who it was and was going to tell? What?"

"He dated you," Mason said.

"What?" Georgie searched his face to see if he was kidding. Every shadow and line was sincere.

April too nodded. "You're the connecting factor."

When Georgie gave no response, Mason cleared his throat and started in. "You loved Raggs, and she was very important to you." He shook his head and made a wiping motion. "Gone. Taken. Then there's Jeffrey..."

"No. I never loved Jeffrey. Never encouraged him in any way. No."

"But he did have a thing for you," April said. At Georgie's obvious surprise, April smiled. "Cassie met and saw him. Remember? You didn't think she wouldn't see it, or keep it to herself, now did you?"

"Ah, dear Cassie," Georgie murmured, sighed deeply, and began to pace, letting their words take root and seeing if the pieces had a place in this puzzle. "Okay," she finally said. "If you're right..."

"George."

She half bowed with a nodding resignation to their theory. "So you think it's me. Let's work with that. But taking Raggs is certainly no show of love."

"First off, Holmes," Mason said. "Forget logic when it comes to the wacko mind."

"Point," April agreed. "But what he did to Jeffrey and Raggs is undeniably going over the edge."

"Okay. So what sent him over the edge?" Georgie asked them. "What did I do to the little fucker?"

"That sounded like Nick talking," April smiled.

"Well, there are times when Nick has the perfect word," Georgie told April.

"Have you heard from him?" Mason asked.

"No. Has he called you?"

When Mason shook his head, Georgie sat back down and leaned into him, to which he responded with a hug.

"I'm getting worried," she murmured. "I know I shouldn't be. He disappears for long periods all the time and I've never worried before, but after all this, and what happened at Shady Oaks, I don't know. I'm worried."

"He's okay," April said. "You know what Paula always says. Bad pennies always seem to turn up, and you can't get a hardier copperhead than that man."

The door opened and Georgie rushed to Cassie. "How are they?"

"Right now, they're both sleeping."

Georgie could smell antiseptic soap off Cassie's hands and her fingers were cold around hers. The sterile cool air sneaking through the closing door took her breath away.

"I want to tell you they'll be fine, but you know me. I don't believe in little white lies." The firm squeeze was assurance that what she was about to say would be truth unsweetened. "Doctor Kane says it's all up to them now. Thankfully, it doesn't look like Daisy shared a lot of that meat with Max. His size couldn't have taken it. He's responding and almost awake, but he needs to stay the night. Just in case, Georgie."

Georgie glanced out the two small round windows above the bench then at the clock on the wall. It was 4:30 and it was already getting dark outside. The day had left them. She thought about asking if she could stay with Daisy and Max, then decided against it. She needed to get home and think. If the kids called and didn't find her home...

She hit her pockets. "My cell phone! Damn it. I must have left it at home."

"Or in my car," April said.

"You're right. It slipped out of my pocket and I shoved it back in. It must have fallen out again. All I need is one of the kids to call home, not get an answer, and call my cell."

"But I, on the other hand, have mine," Cassie said, holding it up. She punched in the call. "Hey, Ryan," she said, after a few seconds. "This is Cassie. Can I talk to Paula?"

When Georgie saw Cassie's eyes shoot up, meet hers, and turn away sharply, her stomach churned with dread.

"What?" Cassie asked, her voice rising. "No. Go out and stop her. Georgie's with us. Go get her. I'll stay on the line."

When Georgie reached for the phone Cassie didn't even try to keep it from her.

"He's taking the phone with him out to the garage," Cassie said.

"What happened?" Georgie asked Cassie.

"Paula received a text message from you asking that she come to the house," Cassie went on, her breathing labored as though she'd been running.

Georgie leaned on the wall for support while listening to Ryan's feet hitting the floor as he ran through the house. "Paula!" she heard him shout, then a little clicking noise. The silence dragged on. Not my Paula, please, God. Mason backed away from them and began punching in numbers on his cell phone.

"I didn't even know I had text messaging," Georgie murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "Wouldn't even know how to use it."

"Mom?"

"Paula! Oh, Baby." Georgie nearly dropped with relief. "Thank God, Ryan caught you."

"He flicked the outside lights," Paula said. "I was nearly out the driveway when I saw them flashing in my rear view mirror."

That was the clicking sound, Georgie thought. Bless him. Smart. Very smart.

"Are you okay?" Paula asked. "Why did you send me the Text Message?"

"Paula. Listen to me."

"Mom, it was your phone on caller ID."

"My cell phone fell out of my pocket. I don't know how to use Text Message. Didn't even know I had it."

"Oh, crap," April said, once again running a hand over her hair. "Well, good thing I have car insurance, cause I have a bad feeling about this."

"Oh, no," Cassie said, her hand on April's shoulder.

Georgie couldn't bring herself to meet April's eyes. She could only imagine how her cell phone had gotten from the back seat of April's BMW into the hands of this maniac.

"Mom, what's going on?"

"I'll explain later. But under no circumstances are you to go to the house or accept any messages from me as truth unless you hear my voice."

"Oh, my God. It wasn't that Jeffrey Sanders, was it? There's still some crazy person out there. Mom, we're coming over."

"No! Put Ryan on."

"Mom," Paula pleaded.

"Please, Paula, put Ryan on."

She looked to Mason. Was he talking to Roberts? Tonie maybe? She could hear him giving her home address and what had happened. Then, "Thanks, man. I owe you. No. No need to mention it to her. I don't want her calling every hour to see where I'm at." There was a pause, then, "I'm where I want to be. Yeah. The Review Board said tomorrow morning at ten." Georgie saw Mason's chest expand and relax as he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "But I'll tell you... honestly. I'd just as soon not go back on duty until this is taken care of." His mouth pulled up at one corner. "Thanks for working with me on this. I owe you big." He flipped shut his cell.

"What's going on, Mrs. G.?" Ryan's voice came through.

"Ryan, please..." Georgie started to say.

"Can I talk to him?" Mason asked, reaching for the phone and Georgie offered no argument. "Ryan, this is Mason Montgomery. Convince Paula that her mom is fine." A pause, but Georgie could hear Ryan's voice. "No, Nick left. She's been with Cassie and April." He waited a moment, nodding, then broke in. "Ryan, can you trust me here? Right now, the less I say to you, the less jumping to conclusions there'll be. Just tell Paula, her mom wants her nowhere near her right now."

Georgie nodded, and mouthed a Thank you.

Mason smiled at her and touched the tip of his finger to her nose. "Don't let Paula get any more excited than she already is. Her mom's taken care of. Unless Nick comes back," he told Ryan, "I'll be spending the night. She won't be alone. I called the police to check out the house and property. They'll be there well before we arrive giving the place a good sweep. Would you call Steven and warn him?"

"Oh, my God, Steven." Georgie's head was spinning, thankful for Mason's quick thinking.

"Just in case he should get a similar message," Mason said into the phone.

Georgie could hear Ryan's voice with Paula's mixed in. Mason's grin widened as he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and drew her to him. "Believe me, she's become very important to me too. G'nite."

He flip-shut the phone and handed it back to Cassie.

Cassie patted April on the chest, and pointed at Mason. "You're a good man, Charlie Brown."

Mason's cell phone rang and he flipped it open, looked at the caller ID. Georgie saw the name, T. Clark, pop up. He flipped it shut, put it back at his waist holder.

"Come on," he said. "Best go see what we're facing at your place."

"I'll go tell Dr. Kane we're leaving," Cassie said. "He doesn't want to leave Daisy or Max alone."

"Tell him thank you for coming in for me," Georgie said.

Mason tossed April his keys. "You take my 4Runner. I'll go with George."

The early evening air felt cool and soothing on Georgie's face. The clouds had cleared away and the stars were bright. As they started to split up to get into their vehicles Mason's phone went off again. Once more he opened it and after looking at the caller ID, he flipped the lid back down.

"Let's go," he said, and Georgie beeped open the doors to her Subaru.

It was a quiet drive to the house. Georgie wanted to ask Mason so many questions, but decided like so many other things in their life, each one seemed to surface at its appropriate time. When they pulled into her driveway and rounded the small circle in the yard, there were three police cars parked. Flashlight beams were moving about the shrubbery and fencing.

Chapter twenty-five

The drive home erased none of what happened, and reality was bustling about Georgie's house. Police were searching the area around her house and around April's BMW. A tall officer wearing a heavy jacket with POLICE in bright yellow across the back turned at their approach and began walking toward them. Georgie turned off the ignition. It was Officer Roberts.

"Oh, no," Georgie said, getting a good look at April's BMW. The back passenger window was broken, its door left slightly ajar. Georgie and Mason got out of the car and went to the BMW. An officer wearing CST across his back and chest held out a hand to keep them away. He then motioned to another officer, a woman, wearing the same letters. They began powdering the car door inside and out. After running a blue light over the surface, the policewoman shook her head and carefully opened the door to begin inspection of the interior.

At the approaching headlights, both Georgie and Mason turned. It was Mason's 4Runner.

When April and Cassie got out, Georgie swallowed hard. How was she to approach April? What could she say? Cassie immediately rounded the front end of the car and went to April, but April just stood there, taking in the scene before closing the door. Georgie's heart saddened, heavy with guilt, as she watched April make her way closer with Cassie at her side trying to buffer the moment.

"I'm so sorry," Georgie finally managed to say.

April raised a hand in that gentle way of hers to shush her, and silently urged Cassie to stand aside. Alone, April moved around the rear of the car to look at the other side and back, making sure she kept out of the police's way. Her hands were in fists, now and then coming up slightly then back down at her sides. Georgie saw the straight shoulders slump for only a moment before April drew them back with a deep breath, her stance now solid.

"I am so sorry," Georgie said again, knowing she couldn't say it often enough.

"Don't be sorry, Georgie." April's voice was soft, no pretense in her manner... just thoughtful. "You didn't do it. It's just a car. The window can be replaced. I'm pissed. No question that I'm pissed, but it's just a car."

"What was in there they wanted so badly?"

They all turned at Officer Roberts' question. Georgie looked about, wondering where Tonie was. Had she and Roberts finally had their inevitable falling out?

"We think it was my cell phone," Georgie told Roberts. "It slips out of these pants' pocket and I guess with all the happenings, I must not have put it back in. Anyway... he's got it, whoever it is."

Mason's cell phone went off. Even in the dark Georgie could see displeasure shadow his features. He took the phone from his waist. It kept ringing as he flipped open its lid. His mood changed as he turned it so she could see the caller ID, then showed its face to Roberts. It displayed the name, George.

"Now we're being taunted," Mason said.

"Or he doesn't know you're here," Roberts said, "and he's trying to lure you like he did Ms. Gainsworth's daughter."

Mason nodded, let it ring once more, before answering. "George? You okay? George?"

There was a audible fading away of a, "Beep, beep, beep." Mason shook his head and held out the open face so they could see. It showed the caller had hung up; CALL ENDED. He was about to place it back at his waist when it ping-pinged. "Text message," he told them, and once more held it up so they could see. Still from Georgie's cell phone, the text message read: KISS HER GOOD-BYE.

No one said anything before Officer Roberts cleared his throat. "Ms. Gainsworth. We'd like to check out the inside of your house, if it's okay with you."

Kiss her good-bye. The printout stayed in that wide screen of her mind, the one that makes all things so much bigger.

"Ms. Gainsworth?" Roberts said.

"George?" Mason said.

Mason's voice and the touch of Cassie's hand on her shoulder blanked out the screen in her head and pulled her back to the moment.

"What?" she asked, still disoriented and not sure what they wanted from her.

"They need to secure the inside of the house," Mason said.

Without answering, she pulled out her remote to open the garage door and handed Roberts her house keys. He nodded at her and turned to his team.

"Okay, guys," he called out. "Every nook and cranny. Nothing is left unturned. Seeking anything out of the ordinary."

They disappeared into her house, black ravens swooping in through her kitchen door, and Georgie turned away, totally at a loss as to what to do.

"You want to come home with us?" Cassie asked.

Georgie shook her head. "Don't you think I've brought enough grief down onto your shoulders?" she asked, motioning toward April who was still watching the police do their work inside her BMW with the blue light and swirling dusting brushes.

"Looks clean back here," someone said from the backseat.

"Too clean," the policewoman said, and the work continued. "Looks like a wipe-down."

Georgie jerked away from Cassie's knuckles gently tapping at the side of her head for attention. "Listen to me. April called it. The window is replaceable. You are not. Come home with us."

It took a while before Georgie could turn and look at her home, a place she shared with Sam. Somehow, the black clad figures, albeit police officers, had shattered that Norman Rockwell painting. She wanted to run from it, never return to this now desecrated place. Opening her mouth to say yes to Cassie's kind offer, Georgie shut it, her teeth clicking as she clenched them. Is this what she was going to be? A runaway-and-hide scaredy-cat? She had snubbed a screw you to the stalker. No way was she going to back down and let this maniac drive her from this house.

"No," she told Cassie, then walked over to April and inched up on her toes to wrap an arm about her shoulders, for a patting hug. "Make sure you bill my insurance for this."

Georgie found the top of her head being patted in return as April said, "Georgie, it's just a car. I could easily buy two BMWs with no dent in our bank account, but if anything happened to you, Cassie would not survive. I," tapping herself on the chest, "couldn't take that. Nick would follow. Three people cannot be replaced." She took a deep breath and looked down at her. "You want to help me? Do whatever it takes to keep yourself safe. That's all I ask."

Georgie gave her and Cassie a quick embrace, and went to Mason. He had been talking to Roberts and was now taking those long easy strides toward her.

"Roberts wants to talk with you."

Georgie followed Mason into her garage where Roberts nodded to his men as they exited the house, each one declaring the room they checked was clear. One officer came out packing away some electrical gadget Georgie suspected was a bug-detector. Could she really have been bugged? Why? The whole thing was this... this surreal montage of absurdities.

"Clean," he told Roberts, and offered her a hint of a nod as he went past her to the police vehicles.

Roberts waited until Georgie realized he was waiting for her to give the okay to enter. Odd that their protective actions had erased that entitlement from her mind. She had been waiting for his permission to enter her own house. House. Was it no longer a home? Damn whoever was doing this to her. Damn him!

Shoulders squared, she looked to Cassie and April, motioned for them to come in, then marched into her house, determined to reclaim it as her home, but even as she entered the kitchen Georgie was struck with the alien coldness of it. No family laughter. No aromas of cooking. There was no Daisy or Max to greet her, and she sighed deeply.

Each having taken a seat at the table, she looked to Roberts. The man was shifting in his chair. This was not going to be good, she thought.

"Ms. Gainsworth," Roberts started out, "it would appear this whole thing centers on you."

"I got that," she said, and let it go. Glib had no place here, but it was just so ridiculous to her. And if she didn't make light of it, she would weaken and shatter. And that, she would not do. "Go on."

"This... person." He almost choked on the word. "He wants to hurt you. Now, you must understand, I do not blame you. You are not to blame here. I want you to understand that."

The muscles in Georgie's face twitched. She looked to Cassie, April, Mason, then back at Roberts. Where was he going with this? "Okay," she said, and waited.

"Did anything strange happen before the doll was taken? Anything out of the ordinary?"

She gave that some thought. Strange. "Like what?" she asked with a shrug. "What are you looking for?"

"Anything different, a change of life style or habit. Anything, no matter how insignificant."

"Until Raggs was taken, my life was... was dull. I worked, came home, and back to work the next day."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his little notebook and pen. Without looking up, he flipped through the pages. "You've been widowed what, three years?"

His dark eyes raised, kept steady contact, studying her, a bug under his scrutiny as he asked his question.

"Yes. Why? What does..."

"Please, Ms. Gainsworth. For now, let me do the asking. Okay?"

An inchworm spinning steel instead of silk worked its way up Georgie's spine and she sat upright in her seat. "Yes. Actually two years, eleven months. October 25th, 4:45 in the morning will be three years."

At the curt tone in her voice, she could see Roberts realize his mistake and draw back. He looked down at his notes, tapping his pen, using up time. Okay, she thought. Go ahead and wait until I calm down. Play your little game. Mason's hand sat heavy on her shoulder, and she almost shrugged it off.

"We're all on the same side, here," Mason said, his grip softening into a supportive touch.

"Really? Doesn't feel like it to me," Georgie said.

"George..."

"Oh, all right!" she burst out, hands flying up to push her hair back, causing Mason to remove his hand. She narrowed her glare on Roberts. "Ask your questions. Keep examining my face to see if I'm lying; psyche me out."

Roberts was quiet, took a deep breath before starting in again. "You've not dated in all that time?"

"No."

"Not in all that time?"

"You know how long three years is when someone you love dies? It's the longest second of your life. No. I have not dated."

"You went out with Jeffrey," Cassie said.

Georgie turned on Cassie, saw April nudge her, and Cassie shrugged. "Well, she did." Her hand motioned toward Roberts. "He said, no matter how insignificant."

"I told you," Georgie said to Cassie through clenched teeth, "That wasn't a date." She turned back to Roberts, saw his features still ridged, sight still on her, and admitted. "Well, I guess to Jeffrey it might have been or seemed that way. Yes. About two weeks ago. Two dinners." She held up two fingers. "That was it."

"A change," Roberts said.

"Yes," she agreed. "A change."

"You're in what..." He flipped the page over, read it, then let it drop back down. "A writing class?"

"Yes. Seven years, off and on."

"Not really a change there," Roberts said, almost a murmur or a spoken thought, then let his sight rise slowly, but with a different target in mind. "But this is your first time, right?" he asked Mason.

"What..." Georgie started out, but Roberts held up his pen for her to stop.

"Yes," Mason said. "This Fall term."

"Okay," Roberts said, and wrote in his notebook. "So that was definitely different, right?"

"Among another ten new people," Georgie said. "It's a large class. There's always at least ten new people. Easy credits, they think until they find out you actually have to participate to get credit. Then they quit. Where are you going with this?"

"How long have you known Mr. Underwood?"

"Nick?" four startled voices asked.

Roberts nodded.

Georgie shot to her feet and swiped a finger at him. "Not Nick!" When Mason reached out to her, Georgie shrugged clear of his hand. "Not Nick."

"How long have you known him?" Roberts persisted.

"Kindergarten."

"Do you know where he is right now?"

Georgie let her sight level flatly on the calm poker-faced Officer. She wanted to so badly say yes, angry with Nick for not being here to defend himself, but all she could do was declare, "No."

Roberts cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. After a heart beat, his dark eyes met hers, emotion set aside, but laser sharp as he indicated she sit.

Georgie refused to heel.

"Please," he said, hand motioning to the chair.

Georgie looked to Mason. There was anger in his face, but directed at what or who?

"He's a friend," Mason told Roberts.

"Is that what he is?" Roberts asked, his eyes never having left her face. "Since your husband's death he's had you basically all to himself, right? Until Jeffrey, and he's now gone. Now there's Montgomery here."

Georgie heard Cassie's gasp, and the rustle of April's jacket as she held out her arm to stop Cassie. Georgie took a step closer to Roberts and leaned down, eye to eye with the man; less than a foot between their noses.

"But it wasn't Mason's dog that was poisoned, was it? We aren't standing in Mason's home, are we?" Georgie crossed her arms and dropped into the chair, so hard it scraped the floor in a sharp squeal. Without losing eye contact, she swung a leg over the knee. "Yes, Nicholas Underwood is far more than a friend to me."

"And me," Cassie said. There was no attempt to hide her anger.

"Please," Roberts said, clicked his pen and finally let his sight drift to Cassie. "Don't make me ask you to leave."

Georgie sat forward, ignoring Mason's warning touch, and waved a hand for Roberts' attention. "Hello?" She waited until he looked back. "Do you have a warrant? Some sort of legal onionskin paper in your pocket? Because if you don't, I'll ask you to leave before you make that request of Cassie or April." She leaned back. "Nick is a brother to me and Cassie, just as Cassie is a sister to me and Nick. No, I do not know where Nick is at the moment, but before you point the finger at him, let me tell you. Nick can do many things, but he cannot be in two places at once. He was behind me when the Durango tried to run me over. He's the one that pulled me out of its way."

Roberts nodded at her explanation, gave his notebook a glance with a tap of the pen, then looked up. Eye contact firm, probing. "Do you have any idea who it might be? Anyone, no matter how trivial it might seem to you."

Georgie ran her hand over her hair, over her eyes, then leaned back until she felt Mason's body and his gentle hand once more on her shoulders. "I don't know." She shook her head, trying to draw up some memory she might have let slip into those corners filled with unimportant facts. "I have customers that have made some overtures in that direction, but I've never gone out with one. Bad policy. Just don't do it, I've told my girls."

"What about you?" he asked, looking at Mason.

Georgie looked up as Mason's mouth dropped, his brow twitching.

"You're new in her life, right?"

"Well..." Mason hesitated, then answered. "Yeah, sure, but..."

"Is there an ex-girlfriend out there who could see Ms. Gainsworth as someone to be warned off, even harmed, to make her step away from you? Leaving you free?"

"No!" Mason's face scrunched up in denial. "God, no. There's no one."

"No one." Roberts' sight would not waver, his two words more loaded than the weapon at his side.

This time Georgie dared not look at Mason and wished she could leave the room. She didn't want to hear Mason's confession that he might have dated Tonie. There was a swish and Mason was kneeling before her, placing his hands over hers, those gray eyes looking up at her.

"There is no one," he said, each word stated alone.

"Either of you think of anything?" Roberts asked, of Cassie and April.

Cassie waved a have no clue while shaking her head. April said nothing. Georgie felt the heat of Mason's hand before it cupped her chin. When she looked down, he once more mouthed, there is no one. She wanted to smile that she believed him, but all that came out was a shaky sigh.

Then who could it be, she wondered?

Roberts closed his notebook as the black mike at his shoulder gave off a screech.

"Sir, could you come out here?" the man's voice asked.

"Excuse me," Roberts said to Georgie, gave a glance to Mason, and walked out with a long heavy stride.

Chapter twenty-six

For a moment no one said anything. Georgie was still unwilling to face Mason. His gray eyes were too easily the key to unlocking her soul and heart. Nick was right. She had played it safe too long and her life had become a harbor she wasn't sure she could ever sail out of.

"Wonder what that was about?" Cassie said.

Mason's hand was hot on Georgie's face. When she didn't respond, he got up and went out the door with Roberts. With a shiver, Georgie went to the thermostat and turned it up. Suddenly very thirsty, she pulled out a glass for water, started to turn on the faucet, but didn't, and set aside the empty glass.

"So what are we missing here," Cassie asked. "Who do you think M&M was messing with?"

"Cassie?" April warned.

"I want to know," she insisted. "I don't want her hurt. Who are we talking about?"

Shaking her head, Georgie swallowed. "He's female partner, Tonie."

"You don't really believe there's something going on between them, do you? I mean..."

"Cassie," April said with a heavy breath, "Why your poking-nose has not been broken long before now is a mystery to me."

"April, if I had known about this Tonie, I would never..."

"Don't," Georgie said, biting her lower lip, feeling the dig of her fingernails as she clenched a fist. "I believe Mason... or at least, I want to believe him. But this is all just so disorienting. I guess I just want to know who's doing this, and why?"

"I think we're about to find out," Mason said from the door.

All three turned as Mason walked in with Roberts close behind. The two men were tall timber standing there.

"Lab lifted a partial print from one of Raggs' dress buttons."

Georgie looked from Mason to Roberts for verification and Roberts nodded. "There might be enough there to do a search."

The mistake, Georgie thought, and the reason this has escalated to this point. The room was suffocating her! She turned down the thermostat, fighting back the urge to fling open all the windows and doors as she jerked off her coat. The room shifted, her feet rubbery, causing her to nearly miss the peg for her coat. A solid grip steadied her.

"Georgie?"

"I'm fine," she heard herself say, as Cassie guided her to a chair.

"Okay. You're fine," Cassie said. "Take a breath and sit down. Put your head down and count back from a hundred, slowly."

Georgie knew better than to argue. The shock of the cold damp dishtowel on her neck sent a shiver rippling through her. A paper bag was placed over her mouth and nose. She wanted to smack it away, but let Cassie have her way. It would give her time to think. Of all the people who entered her life, which one was capable of doing all this? Her wrist and fingers ached. Blinking, she saw it was Mason's hand around hers, his knuckles white from the tight grip. She smiled, realized the bag hid it, and fought the urge to laugh.

"Now what?" Cassie wanted to know, and offered no resistance when Georgie pushed for the bag to be taken away.

"Can't run and hide," Georgie said, feeling the fog give way to reason.

"Why not?" Cassie asked.

"Hide where? I do have a business. I can't put that on pause while we wait and see."

"Emmee and Brandy can handle that."

Georgie let her eyes roll up to stare at Cassie.

"Yeah," Cassie agreed after a thought. "I see your point; your patrons being so fussy and all."

"Not to mention that they're busy with their own people. Besides, each day... no... each moment this goes on could endanger my kids, or you guys. Look what happened to Daisy and Max, April's car. No. I want this over with, gone."

"Hopefully the print will fix that and bring this to an end," Roberts said, just as his shoulder-mike hailed him.

"Sir."

"Okay, I'm coming out." He never gave the person at the other end a chance to speak. When he turned to leave, Mason reached out to stop him, then looked back at her.

"You okay now?" Mason asked her.

"I'm fine." Her attempt to smile failed, her lips unable to move, her body fatigued.

"You're sure?"

"Yes," she said, but noted the odd tone in his voice, the search in his gaze. "Why?"

He turned to Roberts. "Tell her."

Roberts' features hardened, clearly being put in a place he didn't want to be, personally and professionally.

"You've gone this far," Mason pressed. "George has the right to know it all."

Roberts' eyes darkened as they fixed on Mason, and for the first time, Georgie saw unprofessional irritation edging on anger.

"You know what?" Roberts stated flatly. "You're too close and been careless in this whole mess." Immediately, he caught himself, and took a deep breath, his lips pressed tightly, refusing to give in to Mason.

"Fine," Mason said. "I'll tell her. You can say I overheard you talking to your men. Clears you completely. But I want her to know."

Roberts let his sight meet hers for a split second then waved a dismissing hand at Mason. "It's your choice, your call. You could screw this whole thing up beyond fixing, if you haven't already." And walked out.

Mason knelt. "Remember the two black Suburbans at Jeffrey's?"

Georgie nodded.

"What two black Suburbans?" Cassie asked, and Georgie motioned her to hold on.

"Same people came and took Raggs from our Crime Lab," Mason said.

"What?"

"Whatever paperwork and shields they carried," Mason said, his mouth tight as he shook his head, "got them into the lab and gave them all the authority needed to take her and anything else they wanted."

"But why?" Georgie asked. "What for? Who are they?"

"No one knows, but they did return her with the lifted finger print, and the heads up on the matter. Evidently, they're checking it out too. We can thank them for that. Gives us a wider search."

Cassie's cell phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and flipped open its lid. "Well, it's not from Georgie's cell phone," she said, holding it up for all to see, then put it to her ear. "This is Doctor Blanes." After a pause, she shook her head at them and walked into the hallway, saying, "How far apart are the contractions and how long are they? Okay... right. Start for the hospital." She glanced at her watch. "Barring traffic, fifteen-twenty minutes max." Her phone clicked loudly as she slapped down the lid. "I need to get to the hospital," She told them. "Have an eager beaver on the way; early by almost three weeks."

"Don't think they'll let you take the BMW," Mason said, and tossed April the keys. "Might as well take the 4Runner. I won't be going anywhere."

They all turned as Roberts entered. He must have heard enough of what was going on because he said, "One of the squad cars will clear the road for you."

He avoided Mason, but met her gaze. "I'd like to leave Officer Blake with you, Ms. Gainsworth, but as you say, I have no onion paper to force you to accept him."

Georgie's eyebrow arched as she smiled, accepting the well-deserved rebuke, but she would not take back any of her words or the moment. She merely said, "I sometimes get a little snippy."

"Sometimes?" Cassie said, giving Georgie a quick hug and pat on the shoulder. "Right."

"Oh," April said, going to open the door for Cassie, "and you think you're better?"

Cassie headed for the door, giving April a side-glance scold. "There you go," her voice carried in through the slowly closing door, "making me feel all warm and fuzzy."

To Georgie's surprise, she found the poker face Officer Roberts smiling at the closed door then turned and met her look. "Yeah, I've been told I can be a bit of a hard ass about following the book. I'm beginning to think they're right." After what Georgie could see as a resigning deep breath, Roberts tapped Mason on the shoulder. "You going to be here?"

Mason nodded.

"Good. I don't approve of what you did, but I suppose I can't blame you. I have to go on a call. Incident at the Steel Bridge."

He motioned Mason to follow him out, but Georgie's house phone rang and both men stopped. She looked up at them. Mason handed over the decision to the officer in charge.

"Can you set it on speaker?" Roberts asked.

Georgie nodded and did so. "Hello?"

"Mom?" Steven said.

"I'm fine," she said immediately to allay his concern. "Are you okay? No one's tried to contact you saying it's me, have they?"

"Nope. Ryan and Paula called. Tell me you're not alone there."

"No. Mason's here and they're leaving a policeman, at least for tonight. Cassie had to go deliver a baby. Where are you?"

"Long story. Right now I'm doing my stint in the ER. Guess I'll get the rest of the scoop from Cassie when she gets here." She heard him suck in a breath and let out a heavy sigh. "Haven't we had a rotten five days?"

Has it only been five days? Georgie thought.

"Mom, if you need me to come over..."

"No." Georgie also took a heavy breath. "I'm fine, really."

"Okay, but remember. You're the only mom I have. Love you. Gotta go."

There was a muted siren in the background silenced by a click. It took a moment before Georgie could bring herself to push the END button on the phone.

"Looks like you have your bases covered," Roberts said, then once again nudged Mason to follow. "I want you to clue in Blake on the layout before I leave."

When the door closed behind the men, Georgie looked about, sighed, went to the laundry room to get Max and Daisy's food bowls, and stopped. The emptiness stabbed her and she looked around for something else to do. There was nothing. Without Daisy or Max, her little space was empty and vast. She went back to the kitchen. No click click of Daisy's toenails on the linoleum, nor that light thud of Max jumping down from his chair. Blinking back the hot tears, she opened the refrigerator door. No leftover called to her. She pulled out the orange juice, but put it back, thinking of Nick and his magic cure for a hangover. She smiled and sighed. Oh, Nick, where are you?

Mason walked in the door.

When she looked up, his eyes lowered as he took off his jacket and hung it over the back of the chair. She had the urge to take it and hang it up next to her coat on the pegs. But all she did was touch her fingertips to its collar.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"You don't have to..."

She shrugged. "It gives me something to do."

Neither spoke as she pulled out the platter of leftovers Paula had neatly, and very Martha-Stewart-like, arranged for her. Georgie smiled. Ah, Paula, how very much like your dad you are. Sam would always be with her in their kids.

"Leftover finger food from last night," she said, and set down the platter.

"Wow," Mason murmured as she pulled back the clinging wrap.

She waved both hands and smiled. "Oh, not my doing, believe me. This is Paula's trade mark."

After a few bites, Mason leaned back in the chair, took a deep breath and leaned forward, both elbows on the table and let his gaze meet hers. "Could we talk about the ax-murderer in the room."

Georgie felt her brow jerk up.

"Well, elephant in the room seemed such a cliché," he said.

Georgie was unable to fight the smile, and coughed lightly. "I have to tell you, ax-murderer was not the better choice."

They both laughed and let it slide away, allowing the moment to sober.

"I want you to know you really aren't anything like Jenny," he finally said. "But I can't say that your situation didn't spark off... that thing eating at my insides; you know... not being able to be there for her." He moved a hand to pick up another piece of Saturday's chicken and stopped. His eyebrows raised as did his chest, then exhaled. "There's just something here," he said, indicating his heart, "that I can't set aside nor deny, not to mention that I don't want to. And that something is attached to you."

Georgie struggled with the words she wanted to say, but they jumbled in her head with her feelings. "The thing is," she started out, "I think I've been setting up a wall around my little... what does Nick call it? My little safe harbor."

"So what do we do here?" he finally asked.

"I have no clue. I've not dated since Sam in high school."

"You went out with Jeffrey. How did he get past that wall?"

Georgie leaned back, giving it some thought. "How did he do that? I never thought of it as a date, but he must have. Why didn't I?" It was difficult to recall a night that for her meant very little. Then, that first evening with Jeffrey slowly came back to her. "We were going to work on my books for the shop, which was strange because he would never work on my accounts. Always said it was a conflict of interest. But we never made it to his office. Said he hadn't eaten and I hadn't either. So we went to dinner. By the time we got back, he said he'd have one of the girls in the office look into it. You can verify that. One of Instant Reply Security's cars went by as he dropped me off at my car."

"I don't have to check it out," Mason smiled. "Why would you lie about it."

She pointed a finger at him as she considered that second night. "Funny you should say that, because that's how I happened to join him on that second evening. He lied." She almost laughed at her not having thought about it then, but it had been so clearly a lie. "Jeffrey said he found the problem and owed me a dinner for my troubles, but there hadn't been any problems. Isn't it funny I never thought I was being played. Just how dumb is that?"

"Not dumb. You trusted someone you thought was a friend. He just wanted more. I can't blame him for that." He took a piece of food, eyes sweeping over her face as he chewed and swallowed.

She felt the tops of her cheeks burn.

Mason's smile widened. "I like it when you blush."

"Oh, stop."

The moment froze as his cell phone went off, and their eyes held. After the third ring, he flipped it open. He didn't show her the face, but got up and walked away from her. Tonie? She wondered. He had never moved away from her before.

Just as she looked over at him, their eyes met and he quickly turned away, breaking the tie.

"Are you sure? How about the plates?" His voice was very low, but she was able to make out the words. "Did you check them out." There was a pause. "There's no doubt? Oh, man. Where?" Another pause. "Damn it!" His wide shoulders dropped with a deep sigh. "Let me know if you find... you know."

He flipped shut the lid, took a moment before he came back and sat down. He lips pursed, but those jaw muscles twitched, and Georgie felt sick.

"Please," her voice cracked. "Not one of the kids."

He shook his head.

"Cassie and April?"

He took hold of her hands and held on tight. "A Harley was smashed on the Steel Bridge."

"No!" She pulled, but he refused to release her.

"It didn't go completely over. The front wheel jammed into the railings. A witness claims a big dark car sped along side and just rammed into it. The driver was thrown into the river as the front wheel caught the railing."  
"There are thousands of Harleys," she argued, finally jerking free. Her body shook, screams were choking her to get out.

"The plates were registered to Cantell Electronics."

There was a sharp pain at her lips and teeth as her hand hit her mouth to stifle the scream. "But..." she tried to force the words out between trembling fingers, "Cantell must have other..."

"It was registered to Cantell, but its number was issued to Nicholas Underwood."

She muffled her cries, her eyes pinched shut, but when Mason said, "They found a helmet in the river," she ran from the kitchen to the place behind the couch where Nick always tossed his jacket. Staring at the crushed carpet nap, she dropped to the floor, hugged her knees, and buried her face.

Chapter twenty-seven

There was no sense of time until Georgie felt a presence beside her, drawing her toward comforting warmth, a circle of strength and protection.

"He always leaves his jacket here," she said, each word taking a drop of blood from her heart. "Just tosses it down. It would just... clunk it was so heavy."

The vision of its weight taking an injured, perhaps unconscious, Nick straight to the bottom of the river wounded her through the scars of all her losses, leaving a cavern of loneliness to echo her cries. The arms tightened their circle, rocking her gently.

"I need to see where it happened," she heard herself say, yet the voice was an alien sound, small and childlike, not her own.

"George."

"Please. I need to... to..."

"Okay," Mason said, kissing the top of her head and a quick reassuring hug. "I'll call Roberts and talk to Blake outside. Come on."

His arms slipped beneath hers and against her tired limp body's complaint Georgie let herself be lifted from the floor. They slowly made their way through the kitchen, strength returning to her legs, arms, and to that which makes us all go on no matter what. He took her coat from the peg and she began to slip it on as he went out the door.

"Blake," he called out, as her phone rang.

There was an odd zztt zztt and a muffled grunt out in the garage just as the second ring pealed. Georgie tossed her coat over the chair and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Georgie..." Heavy static broke up the voice. "G...Girl..." Again, the static cut up the already raspy voice.

Georgie gasped, and fought the cruelty of deluding herself, yet... "Nick?" she whispered, and pleaded with God to let it be him, to let her hear Nick laugh at the huge mistake.

"The print..."

"What?"

"The finger... p... print..."

The phone was wrenched from her hand. With a half scream, half gasp, Georgie jerked back, stood there gaping, hand empty.

It was Tonie.

"What are you doing?" Georgie asked, and half-reached for the phone, but something made her take a step back instead.

Tonie was dressed in uniform, face bland, eyes pale. Without speaking, Tonie held the phone to her ear a moment then very gingerly placed it back on its cradle.

The not-quite-right of this scene hit Georgie. It wasn't a policemen's uniform, but the dark gray Instant Reply Security outfit. A cold blast of air struck her and Georgie looked to the still open kitchen door. Where was Mason? Then she remembered the zztt, zztt, the grunt, and noticed the weapon at Tonie's waist. Had it been the blasts of a silencer on a throw-away gun? Was there such a thing?

"Mason!" Georgie screamed, and Tonie reached out to stop her, fingers spread in a plea for her to calm down. The hands were unnaturally pale and instantly Georgie realized why. Tonie was wearing plastic gloves.

"It's you?" Georgie asked, stunned by the madness of it. "You're the one doing all this?"

"It was never supposed to go this far," she said, each word coming out slow as though it pained her to say them.

"What?"

"No one was supposed to get hurt."

"What are you talking about?" Georgie demanded.

"Shut up!" Tonie ran gloved her hands over her hair. "I have to think," she mumbled, must have felt the tug of the plastic grip because she stared at her hands, her face ashen, puzzled.

"Why? What did I ever do to you?" Georgie wanted to know. "What..."

"Shut up! Just... just shut the fuck up!" The gloved hands became fists, the knuckles straining against the plastic.

Like drapes being jerked opened, Georgie remembered the lure Tonie had tried, and she charged at Tonie. "You were going to hurt Paula! You b..."

The sting to the side of her face, the exploding lights behind her eyes, and the edge of the kitchen table jamming into her side, happened before Georgie realized Tonie had struck her in a quick back swing. The food and platter lay strewn around her as Georgie looked up from the floor, trying to catch her breath and deal with the erupting pain.

Tonie held out her hands for Georgie to calm down and hear out her plea. "I would never have hurt her, I swear."

Georgie dragged in air as she watched Tonie glance about. The woman seemed to be looking at nothing, yet searching... empty eyes finding nothing. Each breath hurt, but Georgie had to get her wind back quick while Tonie was distracted.

"It was never suppose to turn out like this," Tonie argued. "It was just supposed to be a simple theft... to scare you. That's all."

"Scare me? Why? For what?" Georgie asked, keeping her eyes on Tonie yet trying to concentrate on her peripheral image of the open door. There was no movement, no sound. Mason, where are you? Please, God, let him be alive.

She began to struggle her way up from the floor to chair, to table, each level painful. A throbbing rib made her catch her breath.

"It's all about you, Georgie." Tonie half laughed, and looked at her as if she should somehow know this joke's punch line. "All about you."

Clenching her teeth to bear the pain, Georgie leaned on the open frame to the hallway. "What did I do to you?"

"Didn't you hear me?" There was a shrill in Tonie's voice, and she reined herself in with a swallow. "He wanted to be your hero with his little rose," she added with over-done patience, "your protector, gallant knight coming in to the rescue; be there to save you."

My protector? No! The denial went off in Georgie's head. It couldn't be Mason. No. The taste of bile nearly made her retch. Not Mason.

"He would find Raggs for you," Tonie was saying, offering her upturned hands in a presentation motion. "And that would do it. You'd fall into his arms."

Georgie shook her head, but no denial would come to her lips.

Tonie's ugly plastic-pale hands curled into fists again as she pulled them toward herself, mouth tightening, working to hold back an eruption. "Then you had to go and bring in the police, and the little weasel backed down. God, he shook like a frightened rabbit. How pathetic." Her lips pressed then curled back in disdain. "He was supposed to be the one to pull you clear of the car." She snorted a laugh. "But he wasn't quick enough, and once again, yet another hero in your life did it instead. You didn't even notice the little weasel, and he backed away into the shadows. Such a..."

"Weasel?" Georgie murmured, then... oh my God, she thought. It had to be. "Jeffrey? Jeffrey had you scare me? But why?"

Tonie bent at the waist, arms out at her sides then brought them forward to indicate Georgie. "All for the love of Georgina Gainsworth. He even had me come in for a haircut so I'd know where Raggs was. But the moment you brought in the cops, he turned tail; wanted out, and insisted I return Raggs immediately."

"You did that to Raggs!" Georgie lunged for the glass napkin holder on the table and threw it at Tonie. When Tonie ducked, it smashed into the wall, the shattered fragments clanging to the countertop and floor. Georgie tried dashing passed her, but Tonie easily caught her and swung her back. The refrigerator handle jabbed into Georgie's back as she was slammed into it.

"He was so scared, he wanted me to throw her in the dumpster," Tonie explained, "I wouldn't do it. Unlike him, I knew what she meant to you. I kept her clean, protected. I did that for you. You know that, don't you? Then he wanted to tell everybody he suspected it was me. Who would believe me, right? My word against Mr. Upright. I couldn't let him do that. Just the fact I helped him would mean the end of my badge. I was not about to lose my badge. I worked too fucking hard for it, putting up with their bureaucratic bullshit, their tender male egos."

All Georgie could do was stare, watching a surreal play, Tonie's soliloquy with an invisible person.

Tonie shook her head with a disbelieving smile. "I had to straighten out the mess, make it look as though some crazy ass did it all, and it would have worked too, but once again, he panicked. So I asked him to meet me so I could calm him down, make him see it could still work."

"Upper State Park," Georgie murmured.

Tonie nodded. "The little worm let me in the car and tells me how he's going to save himself." She laughed. "He showed me his I'm sorry note he wrote to you, certain you would forgive him. And you would have, wouldn't you?"

Georgie bit her lip... she probably would have.

"See?" Tonie smirked, tossing up her hands. "I can see it in your eyes. You would have. When I told him he was crazy, he pulled a gun on me. Can you believe that? He didn't even have the smarts to know he had the safety on. Well, that note gave me the best idea. It worked well as a bye, bye suicide. All over a fucking hoax to get you in his bed!"

"Wouldn't that be self-defense? I mean..." She had to keep Tonie talking. First rule... keep them talking until you find something you can use as a weapon. The knives in the wooden holder, she thought, and her stomach tightened.

Tonie's pale eyes narrowed. "I'm not stupid, okay? I put a fucking bullet in his head at point blank range! That's not self-defense. So don't play me. You're not good at it."

"But..."

Tonie wasn't hearing her. She shrugged matter-of-factly and continued with her monologue. "The rest was easy. The added touch was the dog. I felt bad about that."

Anger replaced fear. In one lunge and swing, Georgie reached for a knife from her set and swung wide. Tonie easily bolted clear of the swipe, and vise-like fingers wrapped around Georgie's arm. The room spun a second before Georgie found herself in the midst of a boa-strength hold, crushed into Tonie's chest, while her toes barely scraped the floor. Tonie's other hand was at Georgie's wrist, twisting and jerking, trying to wrestle the knife free.

"Let it go!" Tonie hissed in her ear.

Just as Georgie felt her numbing fingers loosening their grip, she leaned her head down and thrust it back into Tonie's face. Tonie yelped, and Georgie gained her freedom. She ran to her bedroom and dropped to the floor at the head of her bed.

Tonie laughed as she too entered the room. "Christ. Trying to hide under the bed. I expected better," she said, reaching down for her with a sharp snort.

From under the bed, Georgie grabbed hold of the Slugger Bat and swung it. It was a weak swing, but it hit Tonie at the anklebone. A cry of anguish erupted from Tonie as she jerked back, and Georgie rolled away. When Tonie came after her, Georgie swung the bat again, aiming for the knees. Tonie fell like an axed tree, but the bat slipped out of Georgie's grip. She didn't dare take the time to get it. It landed too close to Tonie, and Georgie ran down the hallway looking for another place to make a stand. As she ran through the kitchen, she yanked at the table to tumble it behind her, but it was too heavy, and she ran to the door leading to the garage.

"Mason!" she screamed.

A sharp pain enveloped her head as a chuck of her hair was caught, the plastic gloves squishing in the grip as she was yanked back into the room while an arm snaked about her waist again.

"Kiss him goodbye, Georgie, kiss him goodbye," Tonie taunted. "He got in the way. He should have stood by me, been my backup. I could have gone to him, but no. He was too caught up in you and your little problem to even help me."

"You were the problem!" Georgie forced out, but the woman police officer Georgie knew was gone, leaving behind this mad Amazon, hearing no reason, and hissing in her ear.

"Just like your friend, Nicky-boy," Tonie sneered, as Georgie felt herself dragged, hoisted and jerked, her ribs screaming in pain. "I knew he was trouble the night he came to talk to Mason about that stupid rose. Can't say it was easy keeping an eye on all of you. They should never have sent me outside. I put a track on his bike." She laughed, almost a giggle. "I found him coming out of the Federal Building downtown earlier. He must have found the bug and taken it there. I had to stop him. The bridge was perfect. Sad. I liked him."

"Yeah, he does that to people," Georgie managed to say as her feet hit enough floor to get the leverage needed to jump and slam her feet against the wall and push. Trying to hold her balance, Tonie slipped on the scattered food at their feet and they went tumbling across the room to the floor. Tonie become a cushion for Georgie as they went down. Free, Georgie tried to get up, but her rubbery legs gave her no footing, and she dropped, grasping and getting nothing... a nightmare come true.

She rolled over to see Tonie already on her feet, sliding a knife from its holder, blood streaming from her lip and nose, a tear in the plastic glove. Georgie back-crabbed a bit toward the garage door as Tonie took a deep breath, looking tired as she shook her head again. "I have to make this look good, Georgie... the work of a maniac."

"They'll know it's you," Georgie panted. "Look at yourself."

Tonie ran a hand across her mouth and nose, and stared at the blood. The smile was non-human. "I'm off duty. I can just play sick until all the show and tell is gone." Her face saddened hideously as she added, "And be oh, so shocked and sad when they tell me the terrible, terrible news."

She doesn't know they found the print, Georgie thought, then saw the makeshift sorrow give way to chiseled hard lines.

"Oh, by the way," Tonie said. "I called the lab." Her smeared mouth curved crookedly, a caricature of anything human. "On behalf of Roberts, you understand, him being the lead detective and all. Bentley was very obliging. Always ready to help one another, the men are. He mentioned the finger print. Not enough there to do a search." Her head tilted as she pouted. "Sad."

Georgie was cold, frozen, in shock or was it the cold night air coming through the open kitchen door... she didn't know. All she could do was stare as Tonie raised the knife and lunged into her attack.

Georgie's eardrums went numb from two explosions. Each boom thrust Tonie back, slamming her against the refrigerator door. Two of Tonie's shirt buttons became dark red flower blossoms. Confusion spread across Tonie's face as she looked down at herself, then lifted her gaze, focusing, but not at Georgie. She was looking at the open kitchen door.

"Mason?" Tonie murmured, and for just a second, Georgie was certain she saw, Officer Tonie Clark in the now calm, but dazed face. Tonie collapsed to the floor. Oddly, Georgie's sight fixed on the two holes and blood smear on her refrigerator door.

Georgie gasped, startled, as Mason managed two steps into the room before he staggered to the table, gun dangling from his fingers. The weapon slipped free and clunked to the floor a second before Mason too dropped.

"Mason!" Georgie yelled.

Blood spilled from him, two holes in his shirt were now one large dark stain, and growing. Reaching up, she jerked open the dishtowel drawer. Grabbing a handful she then made her way to him, ignoring the sharp bites from the broken glass napkin holder digging into her through the sweat pants.

"George," he murmured, then grunted in pain before forcing his eyes half opened. His mouth twitched into a smile that failed. "Our next date has to be better than this."

"You think?" Her voice shook as she pressed the dishtowels against his wounds.

Sirens in the distance wailed their promise of arrival.

"That would be our backup," Mason said, and closed his eyes.

"Mason!"

Chapter twenty-eight

No life is lived alone. It is a thread woven with other threads to make a cloth.

As they rolled Georgie out of the ambulance under the umbrella canopy of the emergency entrance to St. V., Steven and Paula were waiting with Cassie. They followed along at the sides of the gurney. Georgie caught a glimpse of April and Ryan in the background talking with a police officer, and for the smallest of a second, she thought it was Mason, and he turned. It was Roberts.

All the concerned voices, both medical and family, rambled in her head, unable to fill an understandable slot, all disjointed gibberish. She turned her head from the swirling ambulance and police car lights. When the doors swung open, the overhead lighting in the bustling room blinded her.

Squinting, she spotted Steven's hand and grasped it with a pleading tug. "How's Mason?"

"He's... uh... in surgery." But Georgie heard the guarded wording, the odd tone in his voice, and she forced her eyes to focus. She had to see his face, but by then, he was looking elsewhere, to those in charge, speaking their medical lingo.

"Cassie. Where's Cassie?" Georgie knew Cassie would tell her the truth.

"I'm here, Kiddo."

Georgie turned toward the voice, and felt the tight grip at her fingers. "Tell me."

"Cassie." It was Paula. Georgie heard the plea in her daughter's voice.

Cassie didn't even look away, just tightened her grip with a shake. "I've never lied to her and I won't start now. It's a tough call, Kiddo. Anything could happen, but Mason's being worked on by the best." There was that reassuring pat before Cassie added, "I don't think M&M's ready to leave you."

"And Tonie?" The question caught in Georgie's throat. She didn't have to have medical training to know Tonie's wounds were fatal.

"Oh, she's here... in the morgue."

A darkness circled, but Georgie blinked it away, and asked, "How's Nick? When did they find him?" She had to know, and fought whatever they had used to sedate her.

"Nick?" Cassie asked. "What are you talking about?"

Georgie turned to stare, searching Cassie's face. What did she mean? Hadn't they told her? But he called. She was certain it had been Nick on the phone. But what if it hadn't been Nick, and they hadn't told Cassie.

"Georgie? What about Nick?"

Georgie clenched her teeth. She couldn't just blurt it out. Oh, God, she thought. "Cassie..." Her eyelids started to close with the sedative, but the tears made their out the corners of her eyes just the same.

"Roberts!"

It was Cassie shouting, and Georgie tried to raise her head. All she could see was the back of Cassie's red hair heading for Officer Roberts, Ryan and April. April was holding out her hands. The last thing Georgie saw before the curtains to the emergency cubical closed was Cassie dropping against April, Ryan pulling Paula into his arms, and Steven's head lowering to his chest with a shake as Officer Roberts looked across the room over at her.

It's true, then, Georgie thought. It must not have been Nick. As she let herself sink into darkness, Georgie heard Tonie's words, "All over a fucking hoax to get you in his bed."

No, she told the lurking doubts. She would not believe it. It was Nick that called. It had to be! Georgie held on to that. It didn't matter what anyone said. She would not let go of that certainty. Nick would not leave her. Nick and Cassie. They would never leave her. They would always have each other. Yes, and she surrendered completely to the medication.

~~0~~

"Sorry I was so late with the info, Georgie Girl," the apologetic voice said.

"Uh huh," Georgie answered. "A little late... not enough of a print though."

"Don't kid yourself, Georgie Girl. But you know the Prez. He hates for us to interfere in local shit, but I told him. Hey, it's my Georgie Girl."

"Uh huh," she said, and tried to lift her heavy eyelids, but they refused the command.

"I told Bentley, whoever calls for the info. That's our man. Tell him the print's no good. Don't want him to run." She felt the heat of lips on her forehead. She wanted to reach up to feel, but her hands wouldn't move. "Sorry. I didn't get back to you in time. Hit a little bump in the road."

And the tears rolled down her cheeks. "Why didn't you just stay home? Why?"

"You hush now. Sleep."

"Nick?" she said, trying to clear away the endless layers of veils, but there was no answer, and the black hole had no ladder for her to climb, only a hand that held hers, then slid away slowly. "Mason?"

~~0~~

Georgie opened her eyes to a dimly lit room. There was no place on or in her body that didn't hurt. Her head pound, her mind denying all requests. It wasn't until she took a deep breath that she realized most of her pain was in her ribs and she was bound snugly. She placed a free hand to her cheek where Tonie had struck her and quickly pulled it away with a low moan.

She was no longer in the emergency cubical, but in a room. Rain pitter-pattered its lonely little song on the windowpane. As the wind blew, tenacious leaves still clinging to their tree, cast their dancing shadow from the light post in the parking lot. I must be on the second floor, she thought, and almost closed her eyes, but the door opened slightly.

Steven poked his head in and smiled. "Good, you're awake," he said, coming to the bedside. "Hurt all over?"

"Oh, yeah," she murmured, and it was an effort to force her dry lips to curve. "When do I get those magic drugs to make it all go away?"

"Any more drugs and we'd have to pump out your stomach, drain your blood and whatever."

"Paula? Is she okay?"

He nodded. "I finally got her to go home." He looked at his watch. "I have a feeling she went home, showered, called her doctor, and is on her way back. Don't even try to talk her out of it. I think she's in denial about Uncle Nick though, and quite frankly... I am too."

"Me too, I guess," she admitted, trying to remember the phone call, the strange dream, but for right now, she needed to know. "How's Mason?"

Steven's smile saddened and kissed her on her forehead. "He made it through surgery. He's in ICU. Only time will tell. Not many could take two shots that close to the heart; lots of damage, but he's a fighter."

"Can I see him?" When Steven didn't answer, she reached over. "Please. He saved my life."

He pressed her hand to his lips and sighed. "I could get into so much trouble." But he helped her up and gently slid her feet over the side of the bed. He raised a finger to his lips and motioned for her to wait. After opening the door wide and flipping down the doorstop, he pushed in a wheelchair. "I thought you'd want to see him."

They looked both ways before wheeling her out into the corridor. As they made their way to the elevator, Lucy came around the corner. The young girl's lips parted as though to speak, caught herself, and said nothing. Her smile was tight, forced, or was it pensive? When the elevator doors opened they all stepped in. Lucy leaned against the wall as far away from them as she could in the gurney-size cubicle. Silence was a fourth person, and Georgie remembered Mason's reference to the ax murderer in the room. It was still a bad choice, she thought, shaking aside a quick flash of Tonie holding that knife.

When the doors opened at the ICU floor, Steven wheeled her out, but when the doors did not close, Steven turned the wheelchair in answer to the silent pause or perhaps a call only he heard. Georgie looked at Lucy, whose hand was keeping the doors open. After a thought, Lucy pursed her lips and stepped out to join them.

"Mrs. Gainsworth, I want to apologize."

"I'm still Georgie, and what could you possibly need to apologize for?"

Lucy looked over her head to Steven then back down at her. "For my actions Saturday night. You saw it, I'm sure, but... I'm also sure you reasoned my actions as something completely different."

Pressing her eyes shut, Lucy rubbed her forehead to bear whatever demons tortured her, and took in a deep breath. "Ten years ago, my family turned their backs on my big brother, Frank, when he told them he was... gay. They told him to leave, to never contact them again, that..." She choked back a cry and swallowed hard. "That as far as they were concerned, he was dead."

Georgie was at a loss as to what to say to help. Thinking back, trying to remember when she first realized Cassie was gay. She couldn't recall the exact moment. It simply came to be. And when Cassie brought home April, it seemed natural. She was still Cassie, her dear friend, her family. Knowing she was gay didn't change that. When Nick came home and met April, he merely smiled and turned to Cassie to say, "Never thought you'd find someone to put up with you."

That's what families did... wasn't it? Loved and accepted you? Be there for you when no one else will.

"Frank was my big brother," Lucy went on, "always there for me, but when the time came... I failed him. I had no backbone. I didn't want to go against my parents. So I turned away from him and lost ten years of having my brother." Tears began to roll down her cheeks. "And now... I'm losing him... to AIDS. When I saw how your family loved Cassie and April, I realized just how stupid I was, how my parents in their ignorance had thrown away a wonderful son."

Lucy wiped away the tears, and looked to Steven. He answered her call, kissed her on the forehead, and came back behind the wheelchair.

"One day," Lucy said, "maybe I can earn back that first welcome I received from you all."

"You don't even have to knock on the door when you come in," Georgie said. "Is that the research you want to get into?"

Lucy nodded and turned when the elevator door pinged open and Lucy walked in. "Frank is in the AIDS Ward."

As the door closed with Lucy leaning against the elevator's far wall, Georgie was touched by the young woman's sadness. Without a word, Steven wheeled Georgie toward the ICU.

"That's where you've been," Georgie said.

"Yeah. Even seeing how Cassie and April are part of our lives, she was still afraid of how I would react. So, I've been with her. Her parents haven't forgiven Frank and now won't speak to Lucy for being here with him."

"Well," Georgie said, reaching back and patting his arm, "she has you and all of us. Make sure you let her know that."

As they neared the door marked INTENSIVE CARE UNIT, Georgie's heart began to race, her lungs demanding air as memories rushed in on her of the moment she entered the ER on October 25th. Only this time there was no blood stained gauze and wipes on the floor. Instead of cold silence, the monitors beeped methodically, their little lights dancing across their screen. Nearing Mason's bed she could see his chest slowly rise and fall in steady rhythm. She reached for his hand. It felt dry but warm and she caressed it softly. Holding her breath to bear the pain, Georgie leaned forward to bring his hand up and kissed it. The breath in her chest caught and she audibly winced.

"Okay, back we go," Steven said.

"No. Go get his chart for me and tell me what it says."

"Mom, do you know what kind of trouble..."

"Just do it!" And the ache went deep. "Please," she added, while biting back the stab at her ribs.

He looked about as though expecting security to come bounding in, then went out the door and quickly came back. He flipped up the metal lid of the chart and read. "He's holding his own. Blood pressure's good." He snapped the lid down. "All we need is time and hope no clots form and loosen. He's healthy, fit. That's all I can give you, Mom."

"Okay," she said, and squeezed Mason's fingers. She gasped when his thumb pushed against her, weak though the movement was.

"Can't ask for a better sign than that," Steven whispered in her ear. "Come on. Let's get this chart back where it belongs, and you back in your room."

"Okay." She gave Mason's hand an extra squeeze and whispered to him, "I'll be waiting. You're not leaving me up in the air with BADGE 747. Have to know how it ends."

When they returned to her room, April was sitting in the chair. Her eyes were red, and Georgie didn't know what to say, or ask. She couldn't remember ever seeing April cry. She wasn't crying now, but she had been.

"I can't help her," she said, and Georgie now knew it was about Cassie. "She won't go home. She's afraid to leave you. But I know it's deeper than that. If she goes home, she'll have to admit Nick is gone. I'm worried about her."

"Just be there," Georgie said. Taking in a breath for strength, Georgie shoved aside her resolve to keep her hopes about Nick to herself, and decided to spill out her thoughts, at least about the phone call. If nothing else, it would help Cassie and the rest of them in that denial. That soft murmuring voice in what could have been just a dream was her own fantasy, but the phone call was a thread tying them all to hope. "Where's Cassie now?"

"Back in maternity, keeping an eye on the baby she delivered earlier."

"Get her on the phone." When April looked up, Georgie added, "Tell her I need to speak with her. Go on. Call her."

"Mom, you need to get in bed," Steven said.

"Then help me get in there, Doctor Son-of-Mine."

By the time Cassie came in, April was calm and almost her old confident self. It was not so with their Cassie. Her face was shadowed with grief, eyes red and puffy, and immediately burst into tears. Georgie clenched her teeth to help bear the thrust of pain from Cassie's embrace, but said nothing, and just comforted her friend.

"Cassie, I want to tell you something," Georgie finally said, easing a hand over the red hair, then nudged Cassie's chin with a fingertip to lift her head. "But you have to take it with a grain of salt, as they say, though I firmly believe it because I have to believe it. Okay?"

Cassie straightened and leaned into April.

"Right before Tonie snatched the phone from me, I know... firmly in my heart, that I was talking to Nick."

"What?" Steven asked, as Cassie added, "But... Roberts said..."

"I know." Georgie closed her eyes trying to recall why she was so certain it had been Nick. It wasn't so much the voice, she thought, since there was so much static interruption, but... "That's it!" she burst out realizing what it was. Of course! "He said, Georgie...then Girl. Who else calls me Georgie Girl?"

"But Roberts said they found the helmet in the river... and..."

"Did they find... you know..." Georgie would even say the word.

Cassie shook her head, her lips tightly holding back any sound struggling to come out.

"In my heart, I feel somehow," Georgie said, "somehow he is okay. And that is what I am going with."

April gave Cassie a small hug and pressed her cheek to the top of the red hair. "Listen to her, Cass. Never mind what anyone else says. You and Georgie know that Bad Penny better than anyone." After a quick firm rub to Cassie's back, April let her hand drop away with a heavy sigh.

Cassie wiped away the tears while her smile led the way for a laugh. "When I see that lunatic again, I am going to sooo wring his scrawny little neck, let me tell you."

The door opened and Georgie looked over. "Paula!" She gave a quick look out her window and saw the night losing its battle with the coming day. "You should be home resting."

"Doctor Eckert said I was fine, didn't she, Ryan?"

Ryan nodded. "How you doing, Mrs. G?"

Georgie smiled at him that she was fine.

"But what was that I heard about the Bad Penny?" Paula asked, looking at her then Steven who smiled. "Did he scare us all for nothing? Mom, I swear..."

The words faded as Georgie found herself hugged tightly, but she would not complain. She had her family and she was certain Mason would recover. He had to. Somehow, Nick would let them know if he was okay.

A young teen wearing a striped apron and a nametag with the name Bambi on it came in as bubbly as only a young teen called Bambi can be. "Mrs. Gainsworth?"

"Yes."

"This was left at the front desk for you," she said, and handed Georgie a manila envelope.

"Who left it?" Georgie asked.

"Dunno. They just told me to bring it to you."

As the young girl pranced out of the room, Georgie saw her bat her lashes at Steven as she passed by him. He politely pretended not to see, and Georgie held back a smile.

Everyone looked, but said nothing as Georgie slipped a finger beneath the flap, looked inside. Tilted it upside down to spill out its contents. For a moment, Georgie just stared at the post card then held it up. It was one of those Hollywood View postcards. On its front was a photo of the traditional intro to The Twilight Zone TV series. On the reverse side was a dirty old penny glued over the card's little tale of the Twilight Zone with a Hollywood address. Where the Send-To Address should be was a little paste-on Harley-Davidson with a child's ink-print of the well known Uncle Sam pointing that finger on top the Harley's seat.

"Salesman from the Twilight Zone," Cassie murmured.

"The Bad Penny," Paula added with a hint of a laugh.

"And an Uncle on the Harley," Steven put in with that ever-present awe she and Sam saw in him when it came to his Uncle Nick.

Georgie shook the card at them. "All on the postcard he never sends."

Little Bambi came bouncing back in. "Mr. Montgomery is asking for a George, but his chart says to contact Georgina Gainsworth."

"That would be me," Georgie said.

No life is an unwoven thread, Georgie thought. No indeed.

THE END

