

Classmate Murders by Bob Moats

EBook Edition – Revised and re-edited August, 2013

Copyright © 2009-2013 by Bob Moats.

Cover design by Bob Moats

Stock photo (c) Thomas Barwick / www.fotosearch.com

REV. 080213.1637

All rights reserved.

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This is a work of pure fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For information and address:

Magic 1 Productions

P.O. Box 524, Fraser MI 48026-0524

Website:

http://murdernovels.com

Magic 1 Productions

Ebook ISBN # 978-1-4523-0445-8

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Other Jim Richards series books by Bob Moats

(In series order)

"Classmate Murders"

"Vegas Showgirl Murders"

"Dominatrix Murders"

"Mistress Murders"

"Bridezilla Murders"

"Magic Murders"

"Strip Club Murders"

"Made-for-TV Murders"

"Mystery Cruise Murders"

"Talk Show Murders"

"Sin City Murders"

"Black Widow Murders"

"Vegas Vigilante Murders"

"Area 51 Murders"

"Mortuary Murders"

"Hypnotic Murders"

"Sunshine State Murders"

"Blue Suede Murders"

"Honky Tonk Murders"

"Dark Carnival Murders"

"Lipstick Murders"

"Pasta Murders"

"Talent Show Murders"

"Shyster Murders"

"Campground Murders"

"Network Murders

"Reunion Murders"

"Big Apple Murders"

For a preview or to purchase a paperback book

go to http://murdernovels.com

______________________

What people are saying about the Murder novels by Bob Moats

"I went online this morning and read your book. I thought at first that I would only read a few pages, but got sucked into it and read all 11 chapters. You are a very good writer! I read quite a bit and often pick up "Airport" paperback mysteries to read on a plane. Most of them are dreadful, with obvious plots. Classmate Murders is a much better story than most."

Ray Zink, Entrepreneur, Minn.

"I got up to chapter ten of the Classmate Murders and decided then to buy the next two books." ... "Just finished your third book, the Dominatrix Murders. I thought it was the best one of the three, didn't want to put it down till I finished it. I looked forward to see how Penny would greet (Jim) every day after her show. Keep the books coming can't wait for the next one."

Norris, former Naval Corpsman

"Classmate Murders is well written and keeps the reader involved and wondering what will happen next throughout the book. Showgirl Murders keeps the reader involved throughout the story and keeps you guessing as to who the murderer is until very near the end."

G. Shurig, Kalamazoo

"If you like mysteries and action then don't miss reading this book..."

Jan Schneider, avid mystery/crime reader

"I finished the book last night, and really enjoyed it. I can only read a book that fast when it keeps my interest, so that should tell you a lot. I would recommend this book to others. I look forward to reading the next installment of the book."

M. K., retired Chrysler Admin.

"I haven't finished the book yet, when I enjoy a book, I take my time, but I want to buy the other two books. I compare your writing to a Mickey Spillane novel, and I like your style, very narrative. I'm amazed you don't have a publisher yet."

Michael Rasah, Professor of History

"Thanks for making me immortal, love the stories, your friend, Buck."

The real "Buck", George Carver

"Your books have been a joy to read. They keep me interested until the last page is turned. Keep up the good Work!

B. Scharmann, Rochester Hills, Michigan

"Bob, I LOVED it. It reminds me a lot of Colombo, I can see Jim as a regular guy, not a smooth talker, but able to outwit the bad guys. The characters were great and I love the way you describe so many of them. Some of your other characters were fun to read about. I can't think of any corrective criticism. I will have my husband read it, he reads all the time. I think he will love the book too."

Joyce Van Houzen-Stacy, B.A.,M.B.A.

Bob, my brother, Bill, sent all seven of your Jim Richard's novels for me to read. I loved them. They were interesting and fast moving. You did good and I hope you write some more of them. I gave the books to my daughter and now she says she is hooked! I enjoy your books and I want to see more of them. It is hard to find books of this type. Concise and interesting. We need more books like these. Getting published is a real war. I hope you have good luck with them. You have a talent for writing novels the way I think they should be written. Regards,"

Fred Scharmann, Avon, OH

____________________

A few people I wish to thank, to all the people who read the first couple versions of this book and enjoyed it enough to overlook the mistakes in grammar.

To my new editor, Valerie Brook who under took the task of going through the most recent copy of this book and giving it the revisions and edits it has been needing. Hopefully now it is better.

The Classmate Murders

by Bob Moats

Prologue

The woman hung her towel on a hook in the wall in preparation of the welcoming shower. She reached in the stall and turned on the water, playing with it until it felt just right. She entered and pulled the curtain back in place. She was lathering up and washed her body. She never heard the man slip through the open window as she hummed and rinsed the lavender-scented shampoo from her hair. The apartment was on the fifth floor, so there had never been any concern about leaving the window open. The heat from the day lingered into the night, and the breeze from the window brought a little comfort. Unfortunately, it also brought an unwelcomed intruder. The man moved stealthily to the wall on the side of the shower and waited. The water shut off and a hand reached out for the towel, the man watched it vanish into the stall. The woman finished drying and stepped out onto the bathmat. The figure came up behind her and put his hand over her mouth, then wrapped his other arm around her neck in a choke hold. He tightened up and held her until she lost her last breath. She slumped and the man set her carefully on the floor checking to be sure she was dead. He went to the door and listened. The voices from the other side were laughing and joking. They had no idea of what just happened. The man quietly went back out the window and disappeared up the side of the building.

~~*~~

Chapter One

Turning 40 and then 50 years old didn't really bother me, but turning 60 was something I just couldn't accept. I ignored it the day it happened, or tried my best to do so despite my family and friend's attempts to make sure I didn't forget. Damn them.

I was now one month past 60, and it still bothered me. The only good thing about it, I was one year and eleven months closer to social security.

I grumbled around my tiny room tapping the keyboard on my computer, bringing it out of sleep mode, and wishing I had something better to do with my life.

Actually, anything at all would have been better since I was doing nothing at the present time of my life. I was recently unemployed due to the stupidity of my former employers, and the state unemployment agency decided I didn't qualify for benefits. Maybe the fact that I had quit my job because I really hated it was the reason I was denied compensation. I wrote a nice letter in response to their request for more info. I explained that my former employers were jerks, and they were abusing my good nature and forcing me to abuse my car in the duty of my job without proper compensation. A lot of good that did.

I had spent the last two years as a security guard, driving my car around a large, suburban Detroit Cadillac dealership on the overnight shift from 7 P.M. until 6 A.M. Basically, I guarded car tires because addicts and those hard up for money could sell them on the street for quick cash. They would steal them right off the cars. I was a good little trooper and managed to stop two theft attempts, being told by my employer that I would get a whole twenty dollars as a reward, which I never did receive. Not the first lie they told.

My computer finally winked to life and I hooked the laptop to the internet dial-up connection. I checked my email, which usually consisted of spam, a number of forwarded jokes or chain letters, and dirty pictures from Buck, a former co-worker and the only close friend I had. I would delete the spam and the chain letters, then read the jokes, and admire the nubile, naked bodies of the women in the pictures from Buck, reminding me that the last time I had sex was about 12 years ago. The encounter was fading from my memory banks, now a wistful image that I could no longer enjoy.

Buck was another guard that I worked with, and he was not a person that thieves would want to have facing them down. Buck was a big, mustachioed biker who carried a nickel-plated .38 in his belt. We weren't supposed to carry, but he'd rather be caught with it than without. Me, I just refused to get out of my car if confronted by criminals. So, I'm a coward. Eight dollars an hour wasn't worth getting beat up for.

He may have looked intimidating, but Buck was a big teddy bear with a soft spot for others. He cared, a rare commodity in people nowadays. He would fuss over my problems and occasionally buy me a 30 pack of beer in exchange for loaning him my DVD collection of movies. Buck was the best friend I had other than my computer.

I looked up at the wall clock. It was about 7:45 in the evening, and all was quiet in the house. My parents were in bed as usual, since they tucked in by 6:30 each night. My dad was a stroke victim and my mom was his caregiver. I helped Mom with things she couldn't handle like getting my dad into bed, doing the shopping and odd jobs around the house. It was an arrangement that suited my mom. The next time I looked at the clock, the hands had reached 8:00 P.M., and I opened the first of the few beers that I had to cut back to now that I was out of work. My mom gave me a bit of money each week for gas to run errands for her, so I divided the allowance between the gas for the car and the fuel for me.

Tonight, my email contained the usual crap along with Buck's stuff, but one letter caught my eye. The sender was "DWittenfield@gomail.com" and the subject said in big letters: "JAMES, PLEASE HELP!" I knew a Dee Wittenfield through elementary and high school, and she always called me James. Actually, I had a huge crush on Dee, and we even went steady for about a month before the school district broke into smaller divisions and she was sent to a different school. I went to the download on my mail program and recovered the letter. It read:

"James, I know it's been years since we've seen each other, but I talked to Joyce Harper and she said she heard you were working for a detective company. I got your email address off the alumni website, and I don't know who to turn to, but I'm afraid for my life. I can't call the police, and I thought you might help me. If you could call me, I'm at 555-3682. I can't even go out of my apartment. Please call, Dee."

I printed out the letter and read it again.

I pulled my trusty Palm Treo cell phone out of my pocket and dialed the number. It rang about four times, then a male voice answered.

"Hello?"

"May I speak with Dee, please?"

"Who's calling?"

"I'm a friend of hers from high school. Can I talk to her please?"

"I'm afraid she can't come to the phone." He paused. "She was murdered earlier today."

Hearing those words sent a shuddering chill through my body.

The voice on the phone asked, "Who are you again?"

I didn't know what to say. "I'm a friend from high school," I blurted out.

"You said that already, but who are you?" he demanded.

"Well, who's asking?" I demanded back.

"Detective Sergeant Will Trapper, Clinton Township Police. Now, you wanna answer my question?"

"Oh." My mind was blank. "Uh, my name is Jim Richards. I knew Dee from high school."

"Yeah, I got that much already. When was the last time you saw Miss Wittenfield?"

"I guess it's been over 40 years." My brain tried to do the math, but I just rounded it off.

"You called now, after 40 years? Why?"

"She sent me an email today to call her."

There was a silence for a beat, then he asked, "What did the email say?"

I read it to him from the printout. He was silent again.

"That's all she said?"

I assured him that was it. "What happened to her, may I ask?"

"We're investigating, that's all I can say right now. Wittenfield said in her email that you were with a detective company. Who do you work for?"

"Oh, it's actually a security company. I was a guard. They had a contract with Dooley Cadillac on Eight Mile, and I worked there 4 nights a week watching the cars. I'm not working for them at the moment. I quit."

"Why'd you quit?"

"Long story, be happy to tell you about it sometime, unless you got about 20 minutes now to hear me rant about my former employers." He let it go.

He asked how I could be reached, I told him and he said I'd probably be called in to answer some more questions. I don't know what more I could have told him, other than Dee and I went steady for about a month 40 years ago. I hoped that wasn't grounds for suspicion.

I hung up the phone in a daze. A girl I had a super crush on years ago had been murdered, and she wanted me to help her. I sat there for a long while, my mind just numb.

I knew Buck was working the midnight shift tonight at the dealership, so I called him. He and I spoke to each other just about every night on the phone, but since I quit working there our calls only happened when he was working. I didn't want to bother him at home.

"Hey, Jimmy, wass up?" His voice was smooth with a touch of southern in it. I never did ask him about that.

"Well, I've got a mystery on my hands."

"Talk to me, man, I'm intrigued." I could hear his smile through the phone.

I told him about the email and the phone call. I read the letter to him, and he was quiet for a bit.

"Wow, a murder mystery. When you gonna start investigating?" The smile came again.

"Buck, she was a long ago love in my life, and now her life is gone. I'm at a loss as to how to feel or what I should do about it."

"Well, she thought you could help her, maybe you should." Buck has this outlook on life to seize the day and damn the torpedoes.

I loved good crime/mystery stories, and I own over a hundred e-books that I read on my Palm TX PDA when I had some free time. I read just about every Alex Cross book by James Patterson, and I was up to my 20th "in Death" book by Nora Roberts writing as J. D. Robb about the futuristic police detective, Eve Dallas. My other crime heroes were Spenser, Sunny Randall and Jesse Stone in separate books by Robert B. Parker, and lately Travis McGee by John D. MacDonald. The thought of being a P.I. intrigued me.

"Ok, so where do we start?" I posed the question.

"Whoa, you offering me a job as junior detective?" he kidded.

I ignored him and studied the email printout.

"You know, she mentions a mutual friend, Joyce Harper, in her email. Maybe she would know what Dee was afraid of," I commented.

Buck was excited. "When do we start, Kemosabe?"

"I'm not the Lone Ranger, Buck. I'd rather be Spenser." Buck had no idea who I was talking about. "Remember 'Spenser for Hire,' 80's TV show with the late Robert Urich?"

"Oh yeah, and the "Hawk" was his sidekick, one big mean mother fricker. Spen-sahh."

"Yeah, that one." I had to relate Hawk with Buck, now my sidekick in crime solving. I smiled at the "Spen-sahh" reference which was the name Hawk often had called Spenser on the show.

"Ok, so how do you find this Harper woman?" Buck queried.

"Well, for the last 5 years I have been the web guy for my high school alumni website, and I have seen her name on the alumni board. I could go there, get her email address, and contact her that way. Or do a Google search for her. Either way, this town is small enough I can locate her."

"So, go look her up and talk to her, man." Caught up in the flow, his excitement came through the phone.

"I'll see what I can do tomorrow to locate her. But tonight, I have to get through the fact I lost an old friend, and not to old age."

"Hey, buddy, I understand. I've lost a few friends over the years," he said quietly. Buck was a biker, and I knew he lost some friends he knew due to careless and often, drunk drivers on the roads. People in cars don't watch out for those smaller vehicles on two wheels.

"Yeah, I know. Well, I'll call you tomorrow night and let you know what happens."

"Well, good night, buddy. You need me, just call! Don't get yourself murdered." He grinned through the phone.

"Not about to. Take care."

I hung up and sat back in my rickety desk chair. It made its annoying squeal that I often worried would wake my parents. I listened and heard nothing. I probably could oil the damn thing, but that would have meant doing physical labor. I wasn't up to it anymore.

I went to my computer's keyboard, brought up Google, and typed in Dee Wittenfield. It came up with just over one million hits, which was a bit of a lie since Google looks for every instance of the name "Dee" and every instance of "Wittenfield." That can cover every Dee online, from Dee Wallace-Stone to Dee Dee Myers. My Dee Wittenfield was not to be found even after I searched through about ten pages. I knew then she wasn't a person to be found on the web. I tried Joyce Harper, and she came up on the first page with her real estate agency. I added the address and phone number to my cell phone and put my computers back to sleep for the night. I wasn't in any mood now to be looking for more free software to download and pack into my already bloated computers.

I turned off the desk lamp and was left with all the tiny LED lights from numerous computer accessories that made my room look like the starry night sky. I sat still in my aging chair and just took in the lights.

My mind wandered back to a day on the school bus when I passed Dee a note asking if she wanted to go steady with me. I watched her reading the note, and she looked up and smiled, nodding a yes to my note. I was in heaven, but fate took us apart when she was bussed off to a new school in the district just a few weeks later. We lost touch, and then when we all joined back into the big high school, I was afraid to approach her, so I lost her again though she was still close by. She was a beauty, and after graduation I often wondered what had happened to her. Now I knew, and even though I never saw her all these years, I still remembered her as a young beauty.

I plopped down on the bed, but didn't get much sleep that night.

*

Chapter Two

I finally dozed off around 4 A.M., I think. That was the last time I looked at the clock. The alarm on my Palm TX rattled me out of bed, playing the James Bond theme that I ripped off the DVD of the latest movie "Quantum of Solace." It had a jazzy attack on what was the thread for every Bond movie beginning with "Dr. No." The gun barrel moving across the screen as Bond walks into view and shoots his weapon. The music blares, our blood stirs as the screen goes red with blood.

I was already dressed since I forgot to get undressed last night, and it was just after nine o'clock. I whizzed out of my room, almost knocking my mother over in the hallway. I said my good mornings and gave a quick excuse for heading out the door, but I did pause long enough to ask her if there was anything she needed while I was out. After a bit of sorting through her gray matter, she said no. I think my mom is tops, but at 80 years old she was becoming a little slow getting her eggs in the same basket.

I refuse to get any older than I am now.

Sitting in my car, I started up the map program on my Palm TX and did a quick find on the Harper Reality address. I got a pinpoint on the location on the tiny road map and headed there. Her business had what they used to call "banker's hours" and didn't open till 10. I wandered over to the restaurant in the shopping plaza where Joyce had set up shop. It was a small diner, and I scooped up the local paper off the counter then went to a booth. The front page headline screamed out about the murder of a local woman, giving a bit more detail than what Trapper had provided me with last night, which actually was nothing. It said she was killed in her apartment by strangulation, and there were no witnesses. My mind played a gruesome image of her having the breath squeezed out, and I had to shake my head to get rid of that image.

The waitress came over for my order, and I asked for milk and a donut. I hated coffee. Couldn't stand it since the army tried to make me drink their crap back during my tour in Germany from '69 to '71. I was skipped over to go to Vietnam twice after basic training and went through two Advanced Individual Training sessions. I was a generator operator for a Pershing nuclear missile unit in Germany where I first learned to love beer.

My milk and donut came, and I wolfed them down as I read more of the story. It seemed that Dee had returned from Denver last year after divorcing her husband. She resumed her maiden name as there were no children, although she had one son from a previous marriage, location unknown. She was working for the local school district as a secretary in the offices of the superintendent of schools. She was also active in helping with the girl's high school volleyball team. I remembered how Dee was really into sports. I was just into Dee.

The clock on the wall read a couple of minutes before ten, so I paid my bill, left a tip and ambled toward Joyce's office. The steady stride I once had in my younger days was now downgraded to a slow amble. The legs didn't ambulate as easily as they used to. My parents used to warn me about getting old and the body falling apart. I didn't listen, didn't think it would happen to me. As I was approaching the office, I saw Joyce at the door with keys in hand. She seemed to be having problems with the lock.

"Joyce," I called to her.

She whipped around, looking spooked, and squinted. I could tell by her expression she realized it was me, although we hadn't seen each other in years.

"Jimmy, damn, you startled me." She looked frazzled.

"Sorry. I was just at the diner waiting for you. Having problems with the lock?"

"Oh, I'm having all kinds of problems today. It started when I heard about Dee." She managed the lock and opened the door for me. We both went in.

"Yeah, I couldn't believe it when I called her place last night and ended up talking to the police."

She gave me a weird look and asked, "You never talked to her about her problem?"

"No, I didn't get her email till almost eight last night, then I called, but I was too late," I said quietly.

"Damn, she was hoping to get hold of you," Joyce said.

"What was it about? What did she have to be afraid of?"

"She called me here the day before yesterday, saying last week she got an email with a warning." She paused, thinking. "It said she was going to be the first classmate to die. She thought it was some kind of joke at first, but then it started to bother her. After a while it just wasn't funny."

"Why didn't she call the police?" I questioned.

"She got more of those threatening letters afterwards, one saying if she told the police she would die sooner."

"Dying sooner or later, what's the difference? The police might have kept her alive!"

"You know Dee was never the brightest bulb. She was scared. I told her to call the police, but she just wouldn't listen."

"I don't suppose you saw any of the letters?"

"No, I never saw her in person, just talked to her on the phone. I hate to say it, but my business keeps me so busy I never got to visit her."

"Maybe lucky for you that you didn't," I responded.

"Yeah," she choked. "I thought about that today when I heard it on the news." She looked a bit more shaken. "What are you going to do now?"

"Well, I'm not a cop or a detective, but I may just snoop around a bit to see what I can do to help."

Joyce was getting her office opened as she talked, flitting around, turning on computers and lights. She finally sat down at her desk and waited for her computer to boot up.

Joyce looked up at me and said, "I don't have any idea who would want to hurt Dee. She was a really sweet girl. And why was she the first classmate to go? Who's the classmate who wanted her dead, and is there a second classmate to go? This is scary."

I was wandering around her office noticing how successful she was as a realtor by all the plaques on the walls. I heard her make a small chortling sound and turned to see her staring at the computer screen, her face flush. I walked over and looked at the screen where she had opened an email. I read:

"Joyce, congratulations, you are chosen to be the second classmate to die!"

Joyce was still making gurgling noises, and I had to shake her to bring her back to reality.

"Joyce, relax, no harm is going to come to you. We will show this to the police and you'll be safe!"

She was still shaking, but managed to look at me. She was in her 60's also and graying worse than I was, but I could almost see the rest of her hair turning a dull white as I spoke.

"This is insane! Who would want to kill me? I've done no one any harm! Neither did Dee! Who is this sick fuck who is threatening me!?"

I took out the flash drive I always carried and told Joyce to download the email to it. She looked at me with wild eyes but took the drive, plugged it in, copied off the email to the drive and returned it to me. I told her not to mention this to anyone. She sat back and wept. I handed her the box of tissues on her desk before I picked up the phone, dialed information, asked for the Clinton Township police. I waited while the phone rang on the other end, and when someone who said he was the desk sergeant answered, asked for Detective Sergeant Trapper. While I waited for Trapper, I went over, locked the front door to the office and rehung the closed sign. Trapper came on the line, and I reminded him who I was then related what had just happened. He told me to set my ass down, that he was on his way.

Joyce and I sat in silence for a bit then she looked to me and asked, "Who would do this? I haven't hurt anyone."

"Heck if I know, Joyce. Maybe one of those weird kids in school turned out to be a serial killer. Guy's lost it for some reason and his twisted mind has him connecting whatever problem he's having now back to high school." I knew it wouldn't soothe her nerves, but I had to say something. I probably could have toned it down a bit, but you know how it goes, open mouth, and insert foot.

She didn't have anything more to say. Good thing since I was at a loss for any more words. A person has been threatened with murder, what do you say? A pounding at the door interrupted our uncomfortable moment. Sgt. Trapper pounded the door until I opened it and let him in. He gave me a nasty look, probably wondering why I was popping up in the middle of a murder, and now another threat. I spent about a half-hour in a small room in Joyce's office explaining over and over why I was there and what I had to do with it. Trapper didn't seem to like me for some reason. I tried to be as polite as possible, but he still had an annoyed look in his eyes when he questioned me. Having read a great number of crime books, I knew police were suspicious of any person in close proximity to a crime. It didn't make me feel any better.

I could see Joyce through the open door. She was holding it together better now that the police were there. After a bit, they sent me out, brought Joyce into the room and questioned her for a shorter time than they did me. Finally, Trapper came out of the room.

"Richards, get out of here, but stay available. We'll need you to come in and make an official statement tomorrow."

"What are you going to do for Joyce?" I needed to know that she was going to be safe.

"She'll get police protection until we wrap this up. Now get lost."

I waved to Joyce and went out the door which was held open by a young uniformed officer. I got in my car and sat a minute gathering my thoughts. There was not much to go on. Adding together the little information Joyce provided along with the news article and Trapper's lack of info, I had nothing. I drove out of the plaza and into traffic; I was going back to my room to examine the email on my flash drive.

Traffic was light. I arrived home in a short time, turned into the drive of my parents' modest little house and guided the big Crown Vic into the garage. My mother greeted me at the back door and gave me all the day's news from the home front. I wanted to get into my room to check out the email, but I had to give mom her time, too. I found an opening to get away, made it safely into my room, and closed the door. My mom knew that a closed door meant privacy, as a door partly opened was an invitation for her to fill me in on what was going on with her reality shows. I couldn't stand those; I didn't need reality in my TV viewing.

I woke my computer from sleep, plugged in the flash drive, then waited for the icon to pop up. I opened the drive, started up my mail program, and imported the email. I opened the letter using the full header mode and studied it. Most people don't know that when an email goes out it picks up a lot of information telling everything from where the mail started, what program created it, where it went through the net from server to server and so forth. Like a postal letter that travels the world, it picks up stamps and info as to where it's been.

The header on this email read:

________________________

Return-path: <whipit@gmail.com>

Envelope-to: joyce@harperreality.com

Delivery-date: Sun, 05 Apr 2009 09:35:13 -0600

Received: from Pompo Deli by box505.Myhost.com with local-bsmtp (Exim 4.69)

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Subject: Your next

From: <whipit@gmail.com>

To: "Joyce Harper" joyce@harperreality.com

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A bit Greek to anyone who didn't know how to look at a header, but it told me a few things. The person who sent it called himself (or herself, I wasn't sexist) "whipit," a flashback to the days of DEVO. Or a bondage freak. It was sent from a place called Pompo Deli, I presume a cyber cafe using a mail program on their server for the web based gmail program through Google. Most likely a faked email setup for just this purpose. It might be hard to track down for me as I'm not a total computer geek, but I knew a bit of where to start.

One thing I noticed, the line: To: "Joyce Harper" joyce@harperreality.com suggested that the person sending the mail had an address book set up since the email printed out Joyce's full name. I wanted to know who else was in that address book. If I could have only seen the email sent to Dee, I might have been able to figure out more. I was sure the police had seen all this, too, and were probably at Pompo Deli right now asking questions. Then again, maybe not. Maybe they hadn't had time to take the email back to their lab for examination.

My cell phone rang, and I answered, "Hello?"

"Richards, Trapper here, did you bring a cup of coffee to Joyce Harper's office, or did she bring it?"

"Well, I hate coffee, and I didn't bring it. I don't even know if she drinks it. She had a bunch of stuff in her arms when she got there, but I didn't see a coffee cup. Why?"

"She took a drink from a cup on her desk and started to convulse. We got an EMT wagon in, but it was too late. We think she was poisoned. Nobody else came into the office before I got here?"

"No, just her and me."

"You need to come down to the station and make a statement. I don't like people dying on my watch, and you seem to be the common denominator here."

"Yeah, I can come down. I'm not hiding anything. I've told you everything I know which is not much. I'm being sucked into this, too, you know."

"Make sure you get there. I don't want to have to chase you down." His tone wasn't friendly.

He hung up, and I put my computer to sleep again then headed out to the car after checking with Mom for any needs. I was starting to dislike the situation. I just knew I was going to end up a suspect. I hoped my name didn't make it to the papers. My mom would freak.

*

Chapter Three

Trapper was pacing around Joyce Harper's office, fuming. He looked at the two nervous uniformed officers, Becker and Davis, standing at attention, looking as vacant as two men could look. The ME people had left with the body of Joyce Harper, and the office was quiet until Trapper exploded.

"How in the hell did a cup of poisoned coffee just materialize without anyone seeing it?"

One officer said, "Maybe it was the CSU guy who came to copy the email off the computer, Sarge."

Trapper's eyes glazed over. "Just when was there a CSU guy in here, Becker?"

"Right after I let Richards out the door. He came up and told me he was called to extract an email. You and Davis were in the back room with the vic." Becker winced.

"One guy?" Trapper asked.

"Yeah, just one," Becker replied.

"When was the last time you ever saw less than two CSU techs at the scene?"

"Well, now you mention it, I thought it was strange."

Trapper's eyes glazed again. "What was he carrying?"

"One of those cases they all carry, I guess."

"Did you watch him?" Trapper now moved into Becker's personal space, just short of nose to nose.

"No, I was watching you and Davis with the Harper woman. The CSU guy was done in just a couple of minutes, and I let him out." Becker wanted to move back from Trapper, but the desk blocked him.

"Just enough time to leave a cup of spiked coffee and...." He paused, and his face went blank. "Shit," he spit out, went to the computer, and sat at the desk. He looked at the mail program still up on the screen and made a couple of hits on the keyboard. "Shit! The email is gone! He left the coffee and deleted the email. I don't believe this, right in front of us."

Trapper picked up the desk phone and dialed a number. "Yeah, dispatch, this is Trapper. Was there a call for CSU to come to my location in the last couple of hours? Yeah, OK. Thanks." He hung up the phone. "No one was sent here," he said, speaking mostly to the air. "This was some real ballsy guy to waltz in and do what he did then skate out."

He turned the chair toward Becker. "What did he look like?"

"About my height, dark hair under a CSU cap, tinted glasses. I could tell they were prescription since they made his eyes look huge. He had a mustache and a large nose." Becker strained to remember.

"Glasses, mustache and a big nose, like those gag glasses with the mustache and a big nose they sell in a novelty store?" Trapper said sarcastically.

"No, Sergeant, his were real."

Trapper looked frustrated. He stood, walked to the door, turned and said, "You two wait here. Don't touch anything until the real CSU shows up, check their IDs when they do, wait till they are done, then seal the place up. Can you do that?"

They both nodded, and Trapper stormed out.

~~*~~

Back at the police station, I was sitting on a hard wooden chair that was making my butt so sore I had to shift a lot to get comfortable. About three butt adjustments later, Trapper showed up. He led me to his office. I sat in a chair across from him that wasn't much better than the one that tortured my butt while I waited. I wondered if the cops used furniture like this to keep their perps from getting too relaxed.

"Well, Richards, you lucked out. It seems the killer walked right into Harper's office and left a present while we all just stood around." He wasn't smiling as he briefly filled me in on the incident. "He left the coffee and deleted the email. We can't even examine that now."

I hesitated. "Um, I could help you on that. Before you got there I had Joyce copy the email to my flash drive."

He stared at me and grumbled, "You suppressed evidence?!?"

"No, I copied evidence. It's only suppressed if I didn't tell you about it, which I'm doing now. You're lucky I copied it."

"Ok, I don't care, just give me the flash drive!" he bellowed.

I thought this might happen so I had copied the email to a blank SD card. I handed it to him.

"This is not a flash drive," he observed.

"The email is on there. I moved it," I lied. Joyce's original email was on my computer. "Oh, and Dee's email to me is on there, too. I cooperate with my police."

"Ok, fine. We got one up on the classmate killer now." He looked hard at me. "I don't approve of you having done this, but thanks."

"Are you calling him the classmate killer now?"

"Police have a way of naming perps so we are all on the same page."

"Did anyone see the killer well enough to ID him?" I asked.

"We have a description, but I'm sure he was disguised. What I can't figure is how he knew the routine and how he figured Harper would be the one to drink the coffee."

"Where was it placed?" I asked.

"On the desk, next to her computer."

"Joyce was so shaken up, maybe she thought she brought it and needed the caffeine," I theorized. "He must have known Joyce's habits, and he was confident that after Joyce found the email she would have called the police. Your guys would have arrived and done what good cops do, so he waited and did his thing. I'm sure none of your people would have drunk from the cup. He was just thumbing his nose at everyone. Guy's got guts."

"It was planned. He couldn't just get a CSU outfit at the last minute. This was calculated," Trapper said in admiration of the bad deed.

"Dee Wittenfield's murder wasn't very spectacular. Where was the drama in that?" I wondered aloud. "She didn't call the police, so the killer had no show to put on. He just did her in to start the ball rolling, I guess."

I thought more on it and said, "But Joyce said that Dee was warned not to call the police. Why would he do that if he wanted to play?"

"Maybe he figured she would call us after another threat. Maybe if she had called us, we would have been guarding her, and he would have slid in through the crapper window while she was in the shower and strangled her." He went silent and focused his eyes past the walls.

I was almost speechless. "My God! Is that what happened?"

"You didn't hear this." He hesitated, then leaned toward me. "I wasn't there. It was a different crew assigned to the case, but after it happened they sent me and my people in to clean up." He went quiet again. "The papers were not told this bit of info, just what we wanted them to know. Same with the Harper case. It will be known that she was found poisoned. I hope you are cooperative about the suppression of certain facts that are to be kept from the press."

"What, that two woman were killed while the police was on guard?" I muttered.

"Just when I was getting to like you, Richards. Don't upset me," he growled.

"I'm sorry. It's just that I'm not involved with murder every day the way you guys are. The lives of two personal friends have been snuffed out, and I don't know what to do about it." I looked into his eyes and thought I saw a spark of understanding.

I was feeling tired. "Are you done with me? I missed my afternoon nap." I gave him a fake grin.

"Yeah, get out of here, but don't leave town." He gave me a fake grin back.

Then we both stopped grinning.

Standing up, I could feel the pins-and-needles-tingling coursing through my butt cheeks as the blood began to circulate again. I left his office and the station. Back in my car and out on the road, I was mystified by the events of the last two days. I had two friends who were killed violently, and I wasn't prepared for the drama. I got back to the house and went into my room. I checked my email and was thankful there were no other pleas for help..

I went out to the kitchen and made a light lunch. I never really ate big meals and was baffled at why I had such a big gut. Yeah, OK, I've got a beer belly, maybe even a beer keg, at least I have something to show for my years of hard work in that department. I took my plate back to my room to eat, and then crashed out on the bed. My daily naps kept me from being miserable, one of the downfalls of old age. I hated it, but I hated feeling miserable more. I slept poorly until it was time to help Mom put Dad to bed and went back to my room.

Around 7 P.M. I thought about Buck. He wasn't working tonight, but I just had to talk to someone, so I called him at home.

Buck answered the phone by the third ring and must have checked his caller ID. "Hey Jimmy, solved the case yet?"

"No, and it got worse," I replied then went over the details of the last two days. I swore him to secrecy about the suppressed info to the press.

"Wow, man. Must be hard to be in the thick of it," he said, obviously impressed with my story. "I did read about your old girlfriend in the paper today. Can't believe he did it right when the cops were there. Guy's got brass."

"Yeah, well, I'm thinking this guy's not done yet. He called Joyce the second classmate to die, like there will be more. I have to find out what Dee and Joyce had in common to make him put them on his list."

"Where you gonna start?" he asked.

"I don't know. I would like to be able to see the emails he sent to Dee, though."

"You'd have to get to her computer to do that, huh?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure the police have her computer by now."

While I was talking with Buck, I was getting my laptop online. I opened my mail program and scanned down the list. My eyes caught an address I recognized. It was from Dee. I felt that chill again and told Buck to hold on. I downloaded it, opened it up and read. I told Buck about it then read it to him.

"James, I'm waiting for the police to come to my place. I just called them. You haven't called so it's OK if you don't. I didn't give you much warning. I got a threatening email, and I put off calling the police, so when Joyce said you worked for some detective company, I thought you might be able to help. After I sent you that last email I got another threat, and I decided to call the police. I've attached the emails so you can see what I was worried about. I know it's been 42 years since I saw you last. I had hoped when we got into high school that you would contact me, but you didn't so I figured you weren't interested anymore. Life sucks, doesn't it? Well, if you'd still like to call, or not, you have my number. Take care, Dee."

"Damn internet, this email was delayed from the first email she sent me. Crap, and she was interested in me back then," I lamented.

"Man, what a cruel blow. But she said she sent you the email threats?"

I was already opening the attachments. There were just two. I read them to Buck.

"Hello, Dee Wittenfield. You don't know me, but we are connected. I just wanted to send a friendly warning: You are honored to be the first classmate to die!"

And the second:

"Dee, I've been watching. Hiding in your room won't stop me. Oh, and don't call the police or you'll die a painful death."

"He was goading her to call the police," I said, realizing when she didn't call them after the first email he had to get her motivated. "He wanted to have the police there when he did it. Two blows, one to Dee and one to the cops."

I opened up the email headers to see if they were the same and told Buck what I was doing.

"Yep, same headers as before. Came from 'whipit' and sent out of the Pompo Deli. I think I need to take a trip there and check out the set-up," I told Buck.

"Hey buddy, I'll meet you there. It's not far from me." He sounded excited.

"Yeah, well, don't go in till I'm there. See you shortly." I hung up. I threw on some clothes and left a sticky note on my door in case mom needed me in the night. I quietly slipped out the back door. It was a bit after 8 P.M. and my taste buds were missing that first beer of the night, but I knew they could wait until I got back.

I drove out Groesbeck Highway towards Mt. Clemens to where the Pompo Deli was located just below the city limits, putting it in Clinton Township, which was the jurisdiction of Sergeant Trapper. I had no idea how to reach him this late and I didn't really want him around, to be honest about it. I pulled into the parking lot and spotted Buck's SUV. Big man, big vehicle. He must have spotted me since he got out as I was pulling up.

Buck stood about one head taller than I did and I was five-ten, putting him well over six feet. I hoped he didn't have his .38 in his belt. I asked. He said he didn't, but he then said it was in the car. He was licensed to carry concealed so it didn't bother me, I guess. I wasn't expecting any trouble to need a gun.

We entered the deli. It was half full of people eating and talking, with some working on their laptops. There were six desktop computers along a wall for those who didn't have a computer. Buck and I took a table by the workstations, and the waitress was quickly there. I ordered a Pepsi, and Buck got a Diet Sprite. Why diet, I couldn't figure. He was thin enough, although most of him was muscle.

"This is eerie. The killer was right here sending out his threats," I whispered to Buck.

"Why are you whispering? It's noisy enough in here. No one is even close enough to hear."

"I don't know," I said, louder now. "It just seemed the right thing to do. Besides, the killer could be here right now."

"I hope he is. I'd like to kick his ass right up to his throat," he snarled.

I looked around the room, ruling out people by their size. The killer had to be strong enough to choke Dee to death, so the wimpy geeks were ruled out. Honestly, I wouldn't know what a killer even looked like. All my crime books left that to my imagination. On TV, they were the last person you would suspect, not very outstanding looking. One thing I did check earlier at home was the time and date of the emails sent from here. The waitress came back and dropped our drinks. I stopped her.

"Hi, you are?"

"Stacy," she replied.

"Do you get a regular crowd in here, Stacy? I mean a lot of repeat customers?" I asked.

"Yeah, we get a few of the same people. I just don't really get into their lives. They're mostly engrossed with the internet."

"Did you work last Sunday night around 10 P.M.?"

"Yeah, I was here. Seems like I'm always here what with everyone calling in sick. You know they aren't sick, and with jobs at stake nowadays, they shouldn't be messing around. Know what I mean?" she rambled.

"Yeah, I understand. But back to Sunday night, was anyone here on the computers acting strange?"

"Honey, they all act strange. Especially when they are downloading porn. We just look away, so I don't pay much attention. Say, the police were in here this afternoon asking the same questions. You a cop?"

"No, just a concerned citizen. You read today's paper about the woman who was strangled yesterday?" She nodded. "Well, she got a threatening email that looks like it may have been sent from here."

The waitress just stared at me for a moment and then look shocked. "You mean to say the killer was right here? The cops didn't say anything about that!"

"Maybe. It looks that way. Could you help by keeping an eye out for suspicious people and let me know?" I handed her one of my website business cards, and she took it tentatively like maybe I was the killer. "I think he was here three different times and may come back again."

She didn't speak, just walked away looking distressed.

"I think you got that girl all flustered." Buck smiled.

"Well, if I stir up some people, it may make the killer do something stupid."

"Or do something stupid and kill you." He gave me his trademark big grin, making his mustache flair out like a walrus.

We drank our drinks, and Buck filled me in on everything going on at the dealership, making me more contented that I no longer worked there. After a while, I told Buck that I was a bit tired and had a beer calling me at home, so we said our so longs and went off into the night.

I snuck back into the house, seeing the sticky note still on my door, went in and undressed again. I snapped open a can of beer and opened up my email program to look at Dee's letters. I did a new scan of my email and noticed a new one had come in while I was gone. What hairs were left on my bald head were tightening up as I saw the sender's name, 'whipit'. I downloaded and read the letter.

"Richards, you're getting too nosey. Drop it or you'll be on the list, too!"

*

Chapter Four

Now I was concerned.

This was getting too close to home. He didn't say I was going to die, but he implied I would be on the list if I didn't back off. Should I back off, or was this a challenge to me? I figured Buck was still up and called him. I read the letter to him.

"You want me to come down with my pistol and camp out in your drive?" He was concerned.

"No, I'm not on the list yet, and I think he wants to go after those people first without adding me to his load." I had just put human life into a 'load' without meaning to do so.

"Well, any suspicious activity around your place, you call and I'll be there!"

"Thanks, Buck, but I'm only three blocks from my local police station. I'm going to call there and see if anyone wants to hear my story," I said to let him know I had a plan. We said our good nights, and I called the Clinton Township police instead of my local cops. I asked if Sergeant Trapper was around and was told he wasn't. I left my name and cell phone number and asked if they could call him and have him call me. It was an emergency, about the classmate killer. They said they would, and I sat back staring at the email.

About fifteen minutes later, my cell phone rang. It came up on caller ID as "private number." I hated to answer those calls but figured Trapper wouldn't want people having his number.

"Hello," I said into the phone.

"Richards, what do you want?" He sounded tired.

I related the whole night from when I left his office, and I could hear his grumbling as I went on.

"Who told you that you could start your own investigation?" he exploded. "You're not even licensed to investigate!"

"I wasn't investigating. I was asking questions for my own benefit. Just to ease my mind," I countered. "Besides, now you have something more to draw him out."

"I'm not using you for bait, Richards, so get that idea out of your head and don't pursue it anymore!"

"Well, the date-time on the header of my email says that he was in the deli while I was there. He sent it out just after I left." I could imagine what the waitress would have said had she known that. "He has to know me, or how would he have sent the email so quickly, and why did he assume I was asking questions about him?" I thought about the waitress. She could have gone around talking to people about my being there.

"Well, I doubt he's still there, but I'll have Becker drive me by there to have a look. We're in the area checking out a few leads on another case. The crap never rests. It will probably just chase him out, if he is still there."

"Ok, do that. Let me know if anything develops," I said with a grin that he couldn't see through the phone.

"Forget it, Richards! You're not part of this, and I don't want to find out you are nosing around again."

"Ok, Sarge, I won't let you find out." I grinned again and hung up before he could reply.

I'm sure I was pissing him off, which might not be a good thing, but I had become part of this when the killer threatened me. I had to be careful, though. I didn't want any backlash toward my parents.

I pulled out the local business phone book, looked up the Pompo Deli and added the number to my cell phone contacts. I dialed the number, and after a couple of rings a female voice came on.

"May I speak to Stacy?" I asked.

"You got her," she replied.

"Stacy, I was in there a couple hours ago. I asked you about suspicious people. I gave you my card."

"Yeah, I remember you and the big bruiser with you," she replied.

Bruiser. I never thought of that word to describe Buck, but I guess it would fit.

"After we left, did anyone ask about me?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, some guy asked if your name was Jim, and I said yes since it was on your card. He said he thought it was you and knew you from high school. I showed him your card, and he asked if I knew you. I said, no, I had just met you and told him you were asking me about suspicious people. He was nice and talked a bit, but I had to work. He thanked me and went back to his computer. Funny thing, he didn't look as old as you to be in high school with you. No offense to your age."

"What did he look like?" I asked, ignoring her age comment.

"Well, he had a baseball cap on, tinted glasses, really big nose and a mustache. He was sitting, so I don't know how tall he was. He left about 15 minutes later, but I didn't see him go."

The description fit the one Becker gave the Sarge earlier. Strange, I didn't see him while I was there, but most of the people at the computer workstations had their backs to me.

"Stacy, there should be a police officer coming in shortly. Tell him what you told me and which computer the guy was using. I would suggest not letting anyone touch that computer till the police see it."

I could hear that same choking sound Stacy gave earlier when I told her about the classmate killer.

"Oh GOD, are you telling me I actually talked to the killer?"

"Stacy, calm down, I don't know if it's anything. Take a breath and wait for the police."

She said she saw a patrol car coming in the drive and dropped the phone. She was gone, but I could still hear the noise from the deli and Stacy in the background yelling for help. I'm sure that got Trapper's blood going. I hung up and sat back in my creaking chair. I'll have to oil this damn thing someday, I thought.

OK, I was trying to put a few things together in my head. What was the connection between Dee and Joyce, other than they were in the same class. Same as me. I went over to my bookshelf, and down at the bottom was my senior yearbook. I had it there because I used it often as reference when I was working on the alumni website. I plopped down on my bed and fluffed up the pillow behind me.

I started from the front and slowly worked my way back, checking the pictures as I skimmed. I went all the way through it and found nothing, so started again. Sometimes you see things better the second time around. I hated sports, so I had breezed through that section the first time, but figured I had better look a little closer this time. Then I saw her, Dee standing next to Joyce in a picture of six cheerleaders all in formation. I had forgotten that Dee was a cheerleader. My fondest memories were of her in that tiny skirt, doing somersaults as I took pictures. Not that I was a pervert, but I was the school photographer. Matter of fact, the picture I was looking at was one of mine. I took the book to my desk. The computer was still online, and I took one of my sticky notes and wrote down the names of the other cheerleaders. Hey, it was a start.

I set the book aside and started with the first name, Linda Grolich, and did a search on her. I knew of Linda, but not to talk to her. She was royalty in high school. You know, the stuck up princess who looked down at everyone. She was also buddies with the head cheerleader, Sue Carter. The usual million hits came up, so I started with page one and clicked my way through a couple of pages before I found something interesting. It seemed that Linda had opened a dance studio in West Bloomfield. I clicked the link to go to her webpage. There she was, looking a lot older than her cheerleader picture, but still not bad for a woman of sixty. She had turned the dance studio over to her daughter about two years ago, but kept a tight rein on it.

I copied her website off using a program called Local Website Archive which can store an entire website in my computer. It finished downloading, and I did a search on the next smiling cheerleader, Marge Holden. I had pretty good luck finding four out of six girls and had their websites stored away for later perusing. It was now just about 11:30, and I was wearing down.

I checked my email one last time, and then I stretched out on my bed after closing down the computer.

My cell phone rang, waking me from a sound sleep, and I saw it was a private number again. It was 4 A.M., and Trapper was probably calling to chew me out about stirring up Stacy.

"Hello."

"Richards, it's Trapper." Here it comes. "Did you know a Marge Holden from school?"

She was the second girl I found on the web. "Yeah, she now lives in Warren, owns a kennel."

"How'd you know?"

"Long story that I was going to tell you about tomorrow or I should say today. What about her?"

"The Warren police just called me. She's dead. Murdered while they were protecting her."

Trapper wanted me to come in that morning so we could get our facts straight. I hung up and tried to go back to sleep. The killer wasn't wasting time, and half the class of the 1967 cheerleading team was dead.

Around 6 A.M., my mother knocked on my door, stirring me out of a great dream where I was giving a massage to Pamela Anderson in Las Vegas. I called out, asking what she wanted.

"There's a strange car in the drive with a man sitting in it. He looks asleep."

I shot out of bed, threw on a robe, and went to the living room window overlooking the driveway. I saw it, but didn't believe it. Buck was parked in the drive, and he did look sound asleep or dead. I told Mom not to worry, I'd explain and went back to get dressed.

I banged on the car window, and Buck came to life bringing his .38 up to the window. I yelled his name, and he focused on me. The window slowly rolled down.

"Hey, Jimmy. You still alive?"

"Nope. I'm the ghost of Christmas Present. I guess if you hadn't been sitting here guarding my castle, I probably would be dead by now. Thanks," I said with a smirk.

"Then where are my presents? Anyways, it was bothering me, knowing you were threatened, so I stopped by around 1 A.M. and kept an eye out." He grinned.

"Oh, like the eye you had out when I snuck up on you?"

He just looked sheepish and got out of the car.

"May as well come in while I calm my mother down. Don't say a word about the murders or my connection to it! She'll be upset." I warned.

We went in, and Mom recognized Buck from the time he helped me move some things out of the garage to take to my storage rental unit.

"Mom, Buck was out celebrating a birthday with a friend close by and was heading home but was feeling a bit woozy, so he parked in the drive to take a nap. Just so he wouldn't get stopped by the police on the road."

"Shame on you, Buck, drinking and driving. Well, you were smart to stop before you got into trouble." She went off to deal with my Dad.

"Why'd you tell her that? I've been sober for five years. Now you got me drinking again." He grinned.

"Come with me. I've got more to tell you since last night."

We went into my room, and I closed the door so Mom wouldn't hear. I sat and related all the new information since last night. Buck sat upright and let out a low whistle.

I continued, "I have to go over to visit the investigating cop and give him everything I know. Want to go with me?"

"Police don't like me. I got a history. I'll take you there, but I'll just wait in the car, if you don't mind."

When we worked together, Buck had told me about his bad boy days, back when he was into heavy drinking and had run-ins with the law. I understood his concern, although he was clean, sober and an upstanding citizen now. Just that old feelings are hard to shake off.

"That works for me. Let's go." I told a white lie to Mom, saying that we were going out for breakfast. She insisted on making us breakfast, but Buck said he had to take care of a couple of errands before we could eat and needed my help, so it would be his treat. She accepted that and scampered back off into Dad's room.

"Great, now we've both lied to my mother." I smiled.

It was still early, so we decided to actually get breakfast and stopped at a Denny's by the police station. We ate and talked about the murders, and I gave him a timeline on the whole mess. We talked till about 8:30. Buck paid, since he was still employed, and we headed out.

We got to the Clinton Township police station by 9:00 A.M., and Buck parked. I said I'd be back as soon as possible. Buck replied that he had his DVD player with him and was going to watch a movie. I went in and told the desk officer I was supposed to see Trapper. He got on the phone and sent me into the waiting room. I ended up on the same wooden chair while I waited. Trapper came out and signaled me to follow him into his office.

"Early yesterday, the Warren police received a call from a hysterical woman saying she got an email threatening her life. They sent a detective out. He recognized the M.O. and assigned an officer to watch her. He called my office, but I was out on the Harper case. Some knucklehead didn't get the message to me. I swear I'm working with idiots. Last night around midnight, the protecting officer let the woman go into her kennel to calm a dog going nuts. The officer stood by the door but didn't follow her in. Bad move. She was in there for an excessively long period, so the officer went in. He found the woman lying in a dog cage, dead. Coroner was called out and he said it looked like blunt force trauma to the head, the blow hard enough to crush her skull. Their investigation didn't turn up the weapon, but they are still looking. The same detective from earlier got on the horn and tracked me down to confer on the facts between his murder and my two. I went there to observe. I called you to see if this woman was a classmate you knew. Now, how'd you know about this woman's location and occupation?"

I told him about looking through my yearbook, finding the cheerleading photo of Dee and Joyce together and checking the internet for more info on the other girls. I passed on the info on the other women and showed him the yearbook photo which I had copied on my scanner. He sat listening and then sighed.

"I guess I'm not going to be able to stop you from invest... sorry, asking questions to relieve your mind, so I want you to give me anything you come up with as soon as you get it. I'll give you my cell phone number. This nut job is moving too fast for us. You are now an unofficial civilian advisor on the case."

"Do I get a badge?" I grinned.

"Don't push it," he snarled. "Give me the names and locations of the other cheerleaders you have."

I started to write them on the pad that he had tossed to me.

"Are we going to change the name to the 'Cheerleader Killer' now?" I inquired.

"No, 'Classmate Killer' still sticks. Besides, we don't know officially yet if it's only the cheerleaders he's after."

I half joked, "Maybe it's some guy who tried out for cheerleading and was laughed off by the girls. Now he's getting his revenge."

"Forty years later. That's a stretch. And that's also a weak reason for murder. Otherwise, more than half the cheerleaders in the U.S. would be dead by now."

I handed him the list and asked if he was done with me. He said he was, but to keep in touch. He was going out to track down the list of survivors. I went back to the car and found Buck engrossed in some movie. He unlocked the car door, and I got in then told him more of the gory details.

I was startled by a tapping on my window and turned to see Trapper standing there.

"Damn it! You scared the crap out of me," I scolded.

He said, "I forgot to give you my number. Here's my card with my cell on the back. If you get any more emails threatening your life, call me immediately."

He looked past me and saw Buck.

"Well, hello, George," he said to Buck, then turned his attention back to me. "Richards, are you cavorting with criminals, too?"

Buck took issue. "Trapper, I haven't been in any trouble in years! I gave up my wild ways. And I was never a criminal! Just a misguided youth."

"Back when I was a patrol cop, George gave us a run for about ten miles down Gratiot Avenue in his Barracuda. We chased him through three cities and six parking lots before we finally corralled him with tire spikes by the mall. It was a chase that made the papers and was the talk of the precinct for days. Luckily no one was injured."

"Except me. After the chase," Buck lamented.

"Well, it seemed you were resisting arrest, George." Trapper smiled.

"Bullshit," Buck said under his breath, not loud enough for Trapper to hear.

"Buck is a good friend of mine and still works for the security company I just left. He's now wearing a badge and protecting property, so leave him be," I defended Buck.

"Damn, George with a badge. That's like the reformed drunk owning a bar. OK, George, I guess I'm all right with your reformation. Richards, keep me informed." He smiled, saluted Buck and walked off.

"He was one of the few cops that did treat me nicely, but he's still a cop," Buck said to the window.

"If you got the time and can get over your past, I'd like to take a run by an address I have," I said.

"Where to, Spen-sahh?" he mocked.

I grinned at the reference. "To visit a cheerleader who hopefully is still alive."

*

Chapter Five

We drove out of the city, just north of Mt. Clemens, and going by the directions from the map program on my PDA, we found the address. It was a beat up farmhouse looking like no one gave a crap whether it was falling down or not. The battered sign out front said "Sue's Beauty Shop." I presumed the shop was set up in the front of the house, so we went to the door.

The sign on the door said to walk in and be seated. We did. There was no one in the room. It had two styling chairs in front of two sinks and counters with all the stuff to cut, curl, and tease a woman's hair. An elderly woman came out from where, I presumed, was the house part of the building, and just looked at us.

"I don't do men's hair. Besides, both of you are bald, so what do ya want?"

I looked at her through the wrinkles and gaudy make-up and realized I was looking at Sue Carter, the head cheerleader and the Prom Queen. She now looked like a drag queen. I stood up.

"Sue, you probably don't remember me. Jim Richards, from our class in high school?"

"Yeah, I think I do. You were always running around with a camera." Her gaze looked a bit alcohol induced.

"Yep, that was me. Could I ask you a few questions?"

"Why, you a cop?" she slurred.

"No, just a friend of Dee Wittenfield and Joyce Harper."

Her eyes perked up a bit on hearing that.

"Wow, there's two names I haven't heard in a while. What are those two bitches up to?" She sat on one of the styling chairs and lit a cigarette.

"Well, they're both dead." I could have said it more politely, but I didn't want to beat around the bush.

That seemed to shake her just a bit. "No shit! Old age?"

"No, murdered. Both within the last two days."

That really shook her. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth slowly opened, but no sound came out. The cigarette hung off her lip.

"And Marge Holden was killed this morning at her business." She sat quietly. "Seems someone is after the cheerleaders, huh, Sue?"

She seemed to be thinking.

I got closer and asked, "Have you gotten any threatening emails lately that you thought might be a joke?"

"Honey, I don't get the internet out here. Hell, I can't even get cable."

No internet? How was the killer going to reach this one?

"Oh, God, it's him! I knew he'd get back at us!" She looked panicky and started to gag. The cigarette fell to the floor. I turned the chair toward the sink, and she held her head over it, but didn't puke. I crushed out the cigarette with my foot. She held there for a minute then continued, "He threatened all of us so long ago. I waited for him to strike, but not after all these years. Why now?"

"Who are you talking about, Sue?"

"Mr. Rocco, the gym teacher." She gagged again, but nothing surfaced.

I remembered him, Nathan Rocco, and how he left the school one day and vanished. There was no talk about why. It was all pretty hushed. Sue turned in the chair and looked at me with dull eyes.

"We did it. We didn't like him and wanted to get rid of him. I knew this would finally bite us in the ass. But not murder. God, am I in danger?"

"Sue, calm down and tell me what happened."

"Senior year, the six of us cheerleaders were fed up with his pandering and treatment of Mrs. Stone, our gym teacher and cheerleader advisor. He was a mean, rotten man and deserved to be accused of sexual misconduct. We told the principal, Mr. Varga, that he had attempted to molest each of us at different times and we were afraid to say anything. But, we figured there would be safety in numbers if we did it together."

I sat in the other styling chair and listened.

"The police were called in, they took him to the station and they worked him over good before turning him loose. No charges were made because it was all on our word. They had no proof. He was fired from the job and left the state, but not before he told Linda Grolich that he would get back at us one day. Oh, man, it's come. We lied about it, and he knew we did!"

I was shocked that Dee and Joyce would have gone along with this plot to ruin a man, even if he was bad. I was now sixty, so Rocco would have to be in his eighties or older by now. It didn't fit the person we thought was the killer. Did he have a helper?

"My life has been crap since I got out of high school. I married Darrien York, the big bad football jock. You know...the jock and the head cheerleader. Same old story. He was a bum without his football, couldn't hold a job for more than a year. We drifted from place to place, keeping ahead of the evictions. I finally went to beauty school and got my license. The money was lousy, and then I inherited this shack from my Dad when he died. I opened up shop here, looser zoning laws out here in the county. And here I've been for the last ten years. Darrien left me for some slut he met in a bar. Good riddance. Now this. I'd welcome death right now." Her eyes watered, and she got up and went into the other room.

Buck said from behind me, "The plot thickens."

"I got to let Trapper know about this." I pulled out my cell phone just as Sue's phone rang a couple times. I waited, and then I heard Sue let out a low scream. She came running back into the shop.

"The voice on the phone said I was next to die!! Oh, my God!" She fell to the floor, curling up in a ball and bawling like a baby. I told Buck to help her up to the chair. He did.

I dialed the number Trapper gave me. After a couple rings he came on. "What now Richards?"

"Where are you?" I asked.

"Looking for Penny Wickens. Who's crying?"

"Long story, I'm with a cheerleader and she got a new threat. I think you need to get here fast and with reinforcements."

"You're still investigating! I'll deal with that later, where are you?"

I gave him the address and he said, "That's not in my jurisdiction, I'll call the Sheriff's office and have them meet us. Don't do anything else, I mean it, just wait." He hung up.

I looked at her phone. She had caller ID. I went back through the list and wrote down the last number that came up. After about a half hour, the sheriff rolled in followed closely by Trapper and Officer Becker. Sue was a bit more in control, and Buck was soothing her. As soon as Buck saw all the cops, he excused himself from Sue and moved over to a corner of the room where he sat quietly and unobtrusively in a chair.

"Richards, I told you not to investigate!" Trapper growled.

"I was just visiting an old school friend when all this happened."

Trapper took one look at Sue's terrified expression and turned to his deputy. "Take her into the other room to rest, but stay with her." He moved over to me. "What's the word?"

The sheriff moved next to Trapper as I filled them in on what I knew. I told him about the cheerleader's charges against Nathan Rocco and as much as I could remember about him from school.

Trapper told Becker "Get on the radio to the station and see what they can find out about Nathan Rocco, and make sure the last two women on the list are given protection."

I stopped Becker and gave him the number off the caller ID. "You may want to check where it came from."

Trapper frowned at me. "Who's in charge here?"

I said, "Time is fleeting."

He ignored me. "If Rocco was accused of sexual misconduct, he might be in the registry. Sheriff, if you don't mind giving me jurisdiction on this, it ties in with three murders I got going now."

The sheriff was more than happy to avoid the paper work and said so. Trapper went into what was the living room of the house and sat down next to Sue. She looked slightly better than 15 minutes ago.

"Miss Carter, what exactly did the voice say on the phone?"

"It's Mrs. York, or was, but you can call me Sue. I said hello, and I heard some breathing then a voice said 'Sue Carter, you are the fourth classmate to die. Congratulations.' That was all. He hung up."

"Well, it's him. This time he's not getting in or out," Trapper said emphatically. "We are going to need a few men from your office, Sheriff, if you can spare them." The sheriff said no problem, and Trapper went on, "I'm going to put in a couple of mine, too, station them around outside if need be. He's going to slip up, I'm sure of it, and we'll get him."

I looked at my watch. Time had whizzed by, and I had to get back to the house to help put Dad to bed. I excused myself and asked Buck to drive me home. As we were heading out, the sheriff stopped Buck and asked, "Hold on there. You Buck Carson?"

Buck said he was and waited for some kind of crap.

The sheriff grinned, threw his arm around Buck's shoulder and said, "Hell, boy, I went to school with your older brother Mark. How is the old fart?"

Trapper had a look that said he was not amused that an officer of the law was being friendly with Buck, but he let it go. Nothing he could do.

Buck replied, "Mark is doing well. He's been married, second time, about ten years now, four kids and living up in Anchorville. He's a fireman for the county."

"Damn. Mark and I used to get in heaps of trouble when we were young. I haven't seen you since you were just head high to my waist. I heard you were a little hell raiser, too." Buck grinned. Trapper grimaced. "Tell Mark that Tate Wallace said howdy."

"I'll do that, Sheriff." Buck smiled.

"Hell, call me Tate. We're like family. Have that old coot call me sometime." He handed Buck his card. "Would be nice to catch up with him."

"Sure enough, Tate. I'll call him tomorrow," Buck said. They shook hands, and he gave that big walrus smile to Trapper as we headed out.

Outside by the car I said, "I'll bet that just made your day."

"Sho nuff." Buck grinned, and we left the property.

Driving down Groesbeck Highway, we sat in silence, reflecting on what had happened.

"You think the killer will try a hit on Sue? With the city and county cops hovering around?" Buck inquired.

"Well, he was gutsy enough to kill three other women while they were hovering. I guess he likes the challenge. But, the cops are really on the watch for him now. I doubt he will slip through," I said with my head back on the rest, totally wiped out from the day.

At one time, in years past, I'd be wired for more to do and probably end the evening at some bar, dancing the night away. Now, I wanted to crawl into bed and just hide my head under the pillow. Growing up sucks. My mind went back over the day, murder and mayhem. I enjoyed reading about it, but was it worth being right in the middle of the real thing? I had talked to a woman from my past just an hour before she was brutally murdered, not a pleasant memory.

"What are you going to do now, Spen-sahh?" Buck broke my thoughts.

"Go to bed and hope that tomorrow I get no calls about more cheerleader deaths."

"Not going to investigate any more? Man, you're not going to disappoint me now, are you?" Buck sounded distressed.

"Yeah, well, expect disappointment. I'm worn down. We'll see what tomorrow brings."

"Ok, buddy. I have to work tonight, so I won't be camped in your drive. Protect yourself."

Buck pulled into my drive. We said our good nights, and I went in.

I got home with time to spare. I went into my room and checked my email to see if 'whipit' had any more threats for me. There were none. I guess I was a bit disappointed.

I finished helping get Dad to bed and went back online. I just sat there staring at the monitor, almost in a trance, before I caught a second wind and went to do a search on Nathan Rocco.

After about three search pages, I found an obituary with his name in it. I opened the link and read.

"Nathan R. Rocco, 78, passed away quietly December 15, 2008, after a lengthy illness. Mr. Rocco was a janitor at Heavenly Chapel Church in Bad Axe, MI. for the last seven years and taught Sunday school for the youth. Divorced, he is survived by a daughter; Julia Waters of Chicago, Ill. Mr. Rocco attended Michigan State University receiving a degree in physical education. He taught PhysEd for five years in the Macomb County school district before moving to Bad Axe. Donations can be sent to the Heavenly Chapel building fund to add a wing for improved classrooms."

Dead now about four months. Well, he couldn't be killing the women unless his ghost was slipping through the walls to kill. There were no more search links to be found on Rocco, so I did a search on Julia Waters, his daughter. She came up pretty fast. She was a major criminal lawyer in Chicago. She had received many awards and acclaim for her work for woman's rights and protections from abusive spouses. I read further, but there was not much more info, nothing about her father. It did say she came back to her hometown in Michigan once a year to visit family. Didn't say what that hometown was. I presumed Bad Axe, but it did say she was in her late thirties, so Bad Axe couldn't be her original hometown.

I wrote down the name of the law firm that she worked at and shut down the browser after checking my email again and finding nothing important or harmful. I looked up to the clock, it was now almost midnight.

I crawled into bed thinking about the day and how fate can screw with people's lives. I was thinking about Sue Carter and the miserable life she had. I hoped the police would at least keep her safe. Tomorrow, I would try to get in touch with Penny Wickens through her website. She was the most successful of the cheerleaders. She had a small local talk show on cable TV and was high profile around the community for her charitable work. She would probably be well protected by now. The police wouldn't want the publicity of her murder on their hands. I wondered if I should share what I found about Rocco and his daughter with Trapper or wait until I had more information. Probably wouldn't matter. He most likely had all the gory details by now. He does have the internet. Amazing thing, the internet. It keeps us informed and entertained, yet it has a dark side. Like email threats. My eyelids started to droop, so I just let them go into the night.

*

Chapter Six

By 9 A.M., I awoke feeling quite refreshed. No calls during the night to disturb my slumber, and no mother banging on the door about some suspicious character stalking around the house. My first goal of the day was to call Chicago to see if Julia Waters had been out of the state. I knew the police would be doing all the investigating, but this was too close to home for me to just let go. My curiosity was peaked, and I couldn't get the thought of people I knew being killed while I did nothing about it. That wasn't me.

I dressed and said my good mornings to my parents, then went to the front porch to get the local newspaper. The delivery person had thrown it in the bushes again, and bending over for me was getting to be harder to do every day. Again, I threatened to not age anymore.

I brought the paper in for Mom, but checked it first to see what they had said about Joyce Harper. The article was brief, I'm sure at the request of the police. There weren't any more details about her death that I didn't already know, I actually knew more than what was reported. . Marge Holden's murder was in another county, so the local papers didn't carry it. I was sure the police wanted to minimize panic by not revealing the link between the murders. I realized this wasn't random serial killings, this was premeditated toward specific persons, but the public would believe what they wanted, just like some people believe our government is doing a good job. The local police stated that Joyce Harper looked like an accidental poisoning. That was their unofficial statement.

Since Chicago was an hour behind us, I waited till 10:00 to call the Law office of Bander, Witt, and Grey. I always disliked the names of law firms, I thought it was pretentious using the partners' names. They should do like other businesses do and give it a catchy name like, "Stab'em, Slab'em and We Get'em Off." I checked my email for the tenth time. Nothing still. I watched the clock slowly crawl up to 10 A.M. and grabbed my cell phone, set the call number block on it, and dialed the law firm's number.

It rang twice, and a voice spoke, "Bander, Witt, and Grey. How may I direct you?"

"Well, I just want some information. Maybe you can help me," I said with a smile on my face. I learned long ago, after being sucked into selling life insurance, that when you make cold calls, putting a really big smile on your face comes across on the other end. People tend to trust you.

"I'll try, sir. What is it you would like to know?" she replied pleasantly.

"I'm on staff with a woman's shelter here in Michigan, and a friend of mine said he heard your Miss Waters was in the Saginaw area, talking to a group there this last week. I was wondering if she is still in the state, and would she be able to come to speak to our group?" I lied.

The voice on the phone hesitated then said, "Miss Waters has been in California for the last month with our new branch there. She's helping to open up the offices and isn't expected to be back for a couple of weeks. She has not been in Michigan since the funeral of her father last December. Who are you, please?"

"Well, I guess I was mistaken. Thank you." I hung up the phone. Now I knew she wasn't involved locally, but could have set something up with an accomplice here. Being a criminal lawyer, she probably knew some unsavory people.

I had just started my day, and my brain was already weary from coming up with a good front for my call. I thought maybe I should start taking vitamins. My mother always tried to get me to take Centrum Silver, but the name implied that I was old. OK, I am old, but why push it?

I called Trapper and did my duty to report. He came on in his usual grumpy voice. "Speak!"

"Good morning to you, sunshine." I did that big smile thing.

"What the hell do you want now, Richards?" He wasn't smiling, I could tell.

"Just some info I picked up while easing my mind. Not investigating, mind you, just looking." My smile widened.

"Fine, whatever, what have you got?"

I told him of my exploration on the internet and the obit of Rocco. He already knew that Rocco was dead. I told him about the daughter and that she was in California for the times of the murders, but that she could have hired someone to do the deed.

"Richards, stop theorizing. That's our job. I do appreciate the info on the daughter. I guess I should teach my men to use the internet for more than watching porn. I'm still trying to track down Linda Grolich. She's on vacation somewhere, but no one seems knows where. I've got men hanging around Penny Wickens. She's not happy, but they are staying out of the way of the cameras so she's going along with it. Since her cheerleader pals are being knocked off, she doesn't want to be one. I still have to interview her, so don't go snooping around, eh?"

"Me, snoop? Hardly. I inquire".

"Well, quit it. I have enough of a headache without you being killed. Remember, you were threatened, too." He hung up.

I sat back and thought about that last statement. I was threatened, and this person had succeeded in killing three people with the police standing around. I had no police protection. So, I called Buck.

He didn't answer his phone. I presumed since he worked midnight last night, he was sleeping.

I checked my email again. Nothing dire or threatening, but there were a couple of pictures of winsomely naked females playing soccer while drooling men stood on the side lines that Buck had included in his batch of email. The girls had their uniforms painted on their upper body, but you could tell they were naked, other than a thong to cover their lower private parts. I really shouldn't start my day with images like that in my head. I had to remember to read Buck's mails later in the evening.

I went to Penny Wickens' website again. It was about her TV talk show, "Penny for Your Thoughts." I wondered who dreamed that up. They taped early in the day for broadcasting later in the afternoon. I went to see a taping of the Bozo the Clown show years back in Windsor, Canada, across from Detroit. It was amazing how they could make such a small studio look so huge on TV. I got the address of Penny's studio. It wasn't too far away. I gathered my toys—Treo cell phone, Palm PDA, flash drives, earbuds, Swiss army knife, business card case, etc. I was ready for anything. I left after consulting for mom's needs.

I did a search for the location of the studio on my Palm TX and set the Mapopolis GPS to guide me there. Traffic wasn't too bad that morning, so it only too me thirty-five minutes to get there. I parked in the visitor lot after telling the gate guard that I was there to see Penny. He gave me a suspicious look and told me to wait while he called in. I gave him my name when he asked, and he waited for whoever was on the other end to confer with Penny to see if I was legit. He smiled and sent me through. I thought about asking if they were hiring more guards, since I had the experience and didn't think a gig like this would be too bad. I parked, went in the door marked 'main entrance' and told the receptionist who I was there to see. She also called ahead to verify. I will say the killer definitely wouldn't get in here without an appointment. The receptionist pointed me in the right direction, and I dutifully follow orders.

I went down a long hallway that had people buzzing up and down and around, then found the door with Penny's name on it. There was a big burly cop sitting on a metal chair by the door, he was looking uncomfortable, I bet his butt was numb. He stood up as I approached.

"You got business here?" he growled.

"Jim Richards. Miss Wickens is expecting me." I hoped she was after all the calls ahead.

He poked his head in the door and inquired. I heard Penny yell, "Tell that S.O.B. to get in here!"

Wow, that made me feel welcome. I smiled at the cop and slipped through the door. Penny was in a pink, furry robe and was having make-up put on. She pushed the make-up girl aside, bounced up and latched onto me with a bear hug that would give me dreams for a month. Soft flesh, smelled great, perky breasts. She looked as young as she did back in school, the wonders of cosmetic surgery. I'm sure she stopped aging at forty.

"Damn, Jimmy, you look...old." She laughed. It was a nice laugh, soft and airy. "But still good looking."

"Thanks, and your fortunes have kept you looking young." I smiled. She punched me lightly on the shoulder and laughed again.

"Sit down, you old coot, and tell me about yourself," she commanded as she went back to her make-up table.

I was fixated on her. There are some people on TV who look good, but in real life they can be gorgeous. She was. I sat facing her, and she bent over to pick up a brush she dropped, exposing a breast through the front of her robe. My crotch got tighter.

"Well," I stammered as she grinned, "after high school, I goofed off for about six months, then Uncle Sam called me to action. I ended up in Germany. Once out of the army, I goofed off again, then got married the first time. Divorced four years later, goofed off for about a year having sex with as many young innocent girls as I could, then married again."

"Damn, you are a glutton for punishment." She winked. "You still married?"

"God, no. I divorced about 12 years and one son later. I'm on the loose again, but I don't move as fast as I used to." I smiled. "I've been single now for about six years and very happy with it. I'm kind of a misogynist nowadays."

"Damn, are you gay now?" She looked disappointed.

"Oh, hell, no. Nothing against the gays. I just have been burned too many times to get involved with women again. A little gun shy, you might say." I kind of went blank on that.

"Gun shy? Is your pistol still working?" She had a devil of a smile now.

I really went blank with her line of questioning. Old men can still blush and I felt that this conversation should be had in private.

"Are you trying to embarrass me, or is this part of your talk show... 'Old men and sex, is there life after the fall,' or you just want to see me squirm?"

"Jimmy, would I put you on the spot? You have an aura about you that says 'I'm horny,' or am I wrong?"

"Again, are you auditioning me for your show? Or is there dinner and a movie in there somewhere?"

"I'm sorry, Jimmy." She laughed again. "Being honest here. OK, confession time, I had a real serious crush on you back in school. You and your cute little camera, always roaming the halls. But you were so hung up on Dee, rest her soul, and that other girl, what was her name?" She snapped her fingers a few times, I guess to help her remember.

"Sara Lester. I chased her all through high school. I should say, wasted my time chasing her through high school." I sighed. "I really never seemed to have much luck with women."

"Only because you didn't get together with me." She gave me a cute, coy smile and then turned her attention towards the mirror to get ready for her show.

I sat silently as her people fussed about her, getting her camera-ready. I was speechless with her confession about her crush on me. It seemed like we always went after the ones we shouldn't be with, and the good ones get away. Point in case, Sara Lester is now weighing in around 280 pounds and married to someone else, but I wanted her. The girl who wanted me is now a glamorous, beautiful star of her own TV show. Go figure.

She stood and walked to the bathroom, but turned first to ask if I wanted to help her change into her clothes. She laughed and ran in, not quite closing the door. Yeah, I watched. And she knew it.

She came back out a few minutes later looking all spiffy in her expensive clothes. Maybe if I had married her, I'd be broke by now, which really wouldn't be any different, except I'd have a really hot wife. She reached down to me and took my hand. Hers was soft and very warm.

"Time to go play savior of the city." She led me out the door and down the hall. We were followed by the burly, and now surly, cop.

We went through a heavy, metal door and into the studio. It was small, like on the Bozo set, and the crew was busy adjusting the cameras and lights. The back stage was fairly dark, and the stage hands were milling about on the other end. They all said their "Hi's" and "Good mornings" to Penny, and she beamed back at them. Some guy whom I presumed was the floor manager, came up to her and gave her a couple of pages of paper. She studied them for a minute then gave them back and told him she was ready.

"Sit here where I can admire you from the stage." She guided me to a tall stool and let me get comfortable. The cop sat a few feet over from me on another metal folding chair, just like the one in the hall. I could almost hear him grumbling about that.

For the next hour, I watched the show being created. The guest was a doctor talking about men's sexual dysfunctions. Oh, great. Penny peeked over at me every time he mentioned sex. I was feeling warm, and not from the hot lights overhead. Penny opened the questioning to the audience, "Penny for Your Thoughts" kind of thing. The doctor held up well through the inane questions people were asking. Penny told the doctor that she had a question. "When is a man too old for sex?"

I squirmed as she looked to me. The doctor laughed and said that man is capable of sexual relations no matter what age, even after sixty, as long as he was healthy and could survive the ordeal. The audience chuckled, and Penny laughed as she drew her attention back to the doctor and away from me.

There were a few more questions, and then the show wound down as they rolled the end credits. After saying her good-byes to the doctor, Penny bounced over to me. Grabbing my hand again, she led me back to her dressing room. She told the burly, surly cop to shoot anyone who even tried to knock on the door. She gave him a big wet one on his cheek. I've never seen a cop go so red. She pulled me in and locked the door. Oh, oh.

She swung me around, pinned my back to the wall, and searched for my tonsils with her tongue. Twelve years of being a monk shattered into sweet oblivion as we moved from wall to chair to couch and then hit the floor. My heart was pounding out a conga beat, mostly from my lack of exercise, but partly from the moment. Her body was amazingly firm and smooth, not at all like a woman almost sixty. About thirty minutes later, we took a breather.

Penny changed back into her robe as I gathered my wits.

"Were you trying to kill me?" I smiled.

"No, sweetie, just seeing what I may have missed back when we were more flexible in high school."

"Disappointed?"

"Hell, no. I may make you my fourth husband." She looked serious then laughed.

"How about a long engagement first?" I pleaded.

"Sounds good. The anticipation is more fun that way." She went back to the bathroom and came out a few minutes later in her street clothes...silky blouse, short skirt and a big smile.

"Are you still a misogynist now?"

"Well, my opinion about women has been elevated to a new level." I watched her fussing at her dressing table, straightening out her make-up. Beyond the glamour, she was a very handsome woman. I could get used to her. "So, are we a couple now?" I smiled.

"Sure, sweetie, but I'll need a pre-nup."

"Well, don't expect much of my fortune. There is none," I joked. Her laugh was infectious.

"Well, we made it through the teenage make out session. It's uphill from here." She was tying her hair up on her head, just the way I liked.

"You know, it's been twelve years since I last kissed a woman," I confessed.

"Damn, you sure could have fooled me. You must have a great memory." She looked at me in wonder.

"I do now, and that will go with me to the grave." I hoped it wouldn't be too soon.

She picked up an envelope from her dressing table and opened it. She read the paper from the envelope and went pale. A small choke came from her throat, and she looked at me with wide eyes. I grabbed the paper and read,

"Star light, star bright. Your star is going out tonight. You're the next classmate to die!"

*

Chapter Seven

~~*~~

Trapper was insistent about not wanting anyone around Sue Carter, but the old woman was just as adamant about doing her work.

"I have to make a living here, unless you want to fund my lifestyle?" she said angrily.

"Fine, but I'm having my men watch you and your customers, just to be sure." He looked at his officers and told them to check every person who came in. "I'm going to look for Linda Grolich, so stay around the house and be sure no one gets in who shouldn't be here." He went out.

One of the sheriff's men was inside with Sue, so Trapper figured she would be safe, and he left. Sue's business was not booming, so she and the young deputy sat a good while before a car drove up the drive. One of the officers outside stepped up to the vehicle and saw that a very elderly woman was driving. He opened the door for her, and he relaxed as he watched her struggle to get out of the car. She thanked him and struggled up the couple of rickety steps of the porch. The officer rushed around her to open the door as she slowly waddled in. The well-wrinkled, gray haired woman stepped into the salon and saw Sue and the younger officer sitting.

"My goodness, all the police, is it all right to get a little trim on my hair?"

"Sure, ma'am. Come on in and sit down. Just ignore the police, they're here to sell tickets for some policeman thing, but you don't have to buy anything to have your hair done," Sue said with a smile.

The woman set her oversized handbag on a chair and toddled to the seat. Sue assisted the woman onto the styling chair and helped straighten her up. The woman thanked Sue and inquired if Sue had a bit of coffee to offer.

Sue paused, looked at the young deputy and asked, "Do you know how to make coffee, officer?"

The young cop replied he did, and Sue instructed him where to find the coffee maker in the kitchen. He dutifully headed into the other room, and Sue picked up the haircloth to cover the woman.

"Just a little off the ends, dear." The woman smiled as Sue swung the cloth around the woman and fastened it at the neck with a clip.

Sue picked up a comb from the back bar and walked around to the front of the woman, leaning in to get a closer look at the woman's hair from the front. Sue looked a little puzzled and asked, "Ma'am, are you wearing a wig?"

The woman smiled and said, "Why, yes, dear, it's my disguise," and brought her hand up and across Sue's throat with the open straight razor she took from her pocket. It was an accurate slash. Blood spurted and was caught by the haircloth as the woman pushed Sue back and down.

The woman pulled the haircloth off, bundled it up with the razor and gracefully stuffed it into her large purse. She pulled a small handgun from an outer pocket of the purse and quietly sprinted to the other room, gun held out.

She came to the tiny kitchen and found the officer standing in front of the coffee maker, humming to himself. The woman didn't want to fire her weapon, so she picked up a small skillet from the stove and whacked the deputy across the back of the head. He went down with little noise as the old woman quickly went to the back door.

She removed a small package from her pocket, took out ten wrapped firecrackers from it, and lit the long end of one with a lighter. She threw the firecrackers out the back door and ran toward the front, gathering up her bag on the way. She waited for the first cracker to pop, setting off the rest and sounding like a machine gun. She watched through the window as the two cops stationed outside drew weapons and sprinted around back.

She broke through the front door, was in her car and heading out the drive before the police understood the situation. They burst through the back door, guns at ready, and found the deputy, down but still alive. They rushed carefully into the salon and found Sue Carter bleeding out on the floor. They called for an ambulance and back up, then called Trapper, something they regretted having to do.

After the coroner took the now deceased Sue Carter away, Trapper stood in the salon looking frustrated and pissed. The sheriff's forensic lab people and Trapper's CSU people were bumping into each other, looking for any trace of the old woman they could find. Finally, the sheriff called his men out and told them to let it be and go back to the station, leaving Trapper's men to fend for themselves.

"I don't believe this! Three big strong cops against one little old lady! Do you know how this looks?" roared Trapper.

Everyone just stood silently, taking the abuse. That went on for another five minutes before the sheriff quietly called Trapper outside.

"I don't blame you one bit, losing four women like this, but you got two more out there that you'll really need to be on your toes about. I'm done here, it's all yours. I'm going to take my bruised deputy, and head back to fighting crime in the sticks, leaving murder to you big city cops." He shot Trapper a wide grin and tipped his Smokey the Bear hat as he headed to his car, signaling his deputy to follow.

Trapper let all the air go out of his body and stood there for a while taking in the sunshine. Becker came out and said, "CSU couldn't find anything that would point to the woman. She must have taken everything she came in contact with."

Trapper looked at him and rasped, "Not a one of the officers who were here could really ID her...old, gray hair, walked slow, etc. And the car she drove was reported stolen from a used car lot in Mt. Clemens early this morning. If we find it, I'll bet my pension that it'll be wiped clean."

He sat on the hood of the nearest patrol car and just stared at the house.

"Murder doesn't bother me, I've seen it way too much to be bothered. What bites my ass is this guy, person, old lady, whatever, is doing this while we're watching the vics. That makes us look incompetent. I'm not retiring in two years with this blot on my record. Becker, you're in charge here. I'm going to see if I can find Linda Grolich, wherever she's vacationing. Maybe we shouldn't protect her. It might just get her killed!" He winced as if in pain, slid off the car hood, walked to his vehicle and then drove off. Becker stood there watching him then went back into the house.

~~*~~

I was trying to comfort Penny, but she was shaking so badly I could hardly hold her, so I sat her on the couch.

I called Trapper and told him about the note, and he told me about Sue Carter. I definitely wasn't going to tell Penny about Sue at the moment.

"What about the cop watching Wickens?" he asked.

"He was on the job, but he was with us in the studio when someone slipped in her dressing room and left the note."

"I'll be there as soon as possible, with reinforcements. Again, don't do anything." He hung up.

I put my phone away, and Penny reached up to me, pulled me to the couch, and snuggled under my arm. She was still shaking, but not as bad.

"You'll protect me won't you?" Her eyes were misting now.

"You're my girl now. Would I let anything harm you? Hell, no!" I was trying to reassure myself as well as her.

I had locked the door to her dressing room again until there was a banging on it. I asked who it was, and the now familiar voice of Trapper bellowed, "Open up, Richards!"

"What's the password?" That got a brief smile out of Penny. Trapper started cussing, so I opened the door.

"Richards, if I really could find a good reason to haul you in, I would," he threatened.

Penny stepped up next to me and said, "Over my dead body you will!" Then she realized what she said and started to cry on my shoulder. I moved her back to the couch where just an hour ago we were in bliss.

Trapper entered with two of the biggest uniformed cops I have ever seen. They would even make Buck look puny. He surveyed the room.

"Ok, fill me in," said Trapper, more politely now.

I gave him all the details prior to Penny locking the door, skipping over the intimate details, and on to when she found the envelope.

Trapper sat on the chair and was thoughtful for a bit. "We need to get her to a safe location, one where the killer won't find her. I'm not making her the fifth murder victim."

Penny looked at him and said, "Fifth? Who else has died besides Dee, Joyce and Marge?"

Trapper was hesitant, but volunteered, "Sue Carter was killed about two hours ago."

Penny started shaking again, I held her closer and more firmly. She put her face into my shoulder and wept quietly.

Trapper got up and said, "I'm going to ask some questions around the studio, see if anyone saw someone go in or out of the dressing room." He went out. The two giant cops just stood by staring at us while we sat on the couch.

I looked at the one closest and said with a big smile, "When do they throw the meat into your cage?"

He gave me a smile back. "They don't feed us, so we go out and hunt for our own food, usually elephant."

The other big cop grinned and said, "I like water buffalo better."

Penny was peeking out from my shoulder, listening to our conversation, and began to giggle.

Everyone laughed. It was good.

"Sweetie, will you stay with me?" she said in my ear like a child.

"Well, I'll have to make a few phone calls. I'll do what I can to stay around." I explained to her about my situation with my parents. She understood and told me how good it was of me to do that. I think I scored a few more points with her, not that I was counting.

Trapper came back. "Amazing, no one saw anything. I talked to the floor manager, and he said a couple of people in the audience had asked to use the restroom. They don't usually closely watch where these people may wander off to. So I guess someone could have slipped down the hall and left the note. They don't keep track of names of people in the audience, but I'm sure he would have used a fake name anyway. There are no security cameras around, which also amazes me. We are nowhere."

He turned to the giant cops and said, "I want you two to stick to Wickens like glue. If anything happens to her, I'll cut you both off at the knees, bringing you down to my level so I can smack your faces." He asked Penny what her agenda was for the day. She said that she was done at the studio and would just be going home.

"Would it be a problem having my officers hanging around your home?" Trapper asked.

"No, no problem. Besides, Jim is going to help protect me, too," she said smiling at me.

Trapper grimaced and said, "Who's going to protect you from him? I'm also going to put a couple officers outside of your home, so don't worry.""

"As I understand it, four women have been murdered while under police protection, and you don't want me to worry." She sounded like she was interrogating a guest on her show.

Trapper's face contorted. "Well, we will be on our toes this time. I promise."

She looked at me. "You have some calls to make, and then we'll go home." I liked the way she said we would go home.

I went off into the bathroom and called my brother to ask if he could get Dad to bed. He said he would. Then I called Mom and told her that I had plans to do something with Buck and that my brother was filling in to help her with Dad. She asked if I would be late. I told her I would probably stay at Buck's for the night and not to worry about me. She was placated. I hated to tell her a tale, but she would have fretted all night if she knew I was camping out in a place where a serial killer might visit. I thought about that, and I called Buck.

"Hey, Jimmy, still alive?" Buck said as he heard my voice.

"Barely. Sue Carter was killed today, and a threat was made at Penny Wickens," I replied.

"Whoa, what happened to Sue?"

I told him the gory details and then told him about my morning with Penny, leaving the intimate details just barely suggested. He congratulated me and asked when Penny and I were getting married.

"I just reconnected with her after forty years of not knowing she was crazy about me. I'm not rushing anything yet."

There was a knock on the door. Penny called in to ask if I was OK. I said yes and that I was arranging for extra cavalry. She said she missed me and would wait. I smiled.

I asked Buck if he had any plans for the night. He wasn't working. He said he would help with anything I needed. I told him to hold on and went to the door. I opened it and called Penny in. I sat on the closed toilet, and she plopped down on my lap.

"Buck, get a paper and pen," I then asked Penny for her address and directions. I gave them to Buck. "Bring your little silver persuader along and pick up a couple of good DVDs. We can meet around 7 P.M." He agreed and I hung up.

Penny kissed me on the nose and thanked me for doing what I was doing. "I certainly hope we can get some privacy tonight. If not, I'm sending everyone out of the house."

"Including me?" I asked.

"No, silly, not you. I'll need you."

We gathered her stuff and took our little posse out to her car. One cop went to get their patrol car, and he picked up the other cop with us. I was surprised they could fit in the car. They followed us to Penny's home on Lake St. Clair, and she pulled into the garage. I told her to wait in the car and lock the doors after I got out. Both of the cops and I went into her house and made a sweep of the place to make sure it was safe, then we went out and brought her in. Her black cat scared the hell out of me by jumping up on the counter in front of me. I jumped back and into one of the giant cops. He laughed out loud and picked up the cat.

"Hey, I wasn't scared, just surprised," I defended myself.

Penny put her things away and gave us a tour of the house so we knew where everything was. "You officers can camp out in the family room. It's in the center of the house and easily accessible to the rest of the house."

They thanked her and sat at the snack bar between the kitchen and the family room. She turned on the TV and gave them the remote, then grabbed my hand and led me to the back porch. It was enclosed with a fantastic view of the lake. I loved the water but hated contact with it. I was not into water activities.

We sat on a porch glider and swung slowly back and forth. The cat joined us and plopped down on my lap. I told her about my first sexual encounter.

"It was on an old metal porch glider like this one. It was in the girl's parent's basement, and it squeaked and groaned with our gyrating. I was surprised her parents didn't come down to find out what all the racket was."

She laughed and wondered what sex on a porch glider would be like. We'd have to try it sometime when there were fewer people around.

I thought about Buck and excused myself to go warn the officers about him. I noticed another patrol car pulling in the drive, and one of the giant cops and I went out to greet them. The newcomers stationed themselves outside blocking the only drive onto the property, a long way from the main road. I warned them about Buck, and they said they would watch out for him.

I left the four of them to plot world domination and went back to the house. Penny was standing at the door and hugged me as I came in. God, she felt so good, I didn't want her to let go. We went to the kitchen, and she asked what I'd like to eat.

"Wow, you can cook?" I kidded.

"I'm not only hot in the bedroom, but in the kitchen, too." That coy smile came back. I said to surprise me, and she went to work pulling foodstuff out of the fridge and cupboards. I sat at the snack bar and watched her. Even flitting around the stove, she looked luminous. I do believe I was falling in love.

Every now and then, she would stop to give me a kiss then scooted back off to cook. She made a quick stew with ingredients she had on hand, and after a while, it was ready.

"Would you get plates out for everybody, the utensils are in that drawer," she said pointing. I opened the drawer and pulled out the tray with the knives and forks.

I called the officers, and they took turns filling their plates with the stew. I hoped there would be some left for Penny and me. There was, so Penny and I sat at her dining table and ate while talking. I wanted to hear her life story after high school, and she gave me all the details. I filled in a few more of the holes in my life that I hadn't covered earlier, and then we just sat there staring into each other's eyes for a very long time.

The two giants came back in and one of them said, "Buck is arriving." I was surprised that it was already 7:00 and went out to greet him, taking Penny with me.

Buck had seen Penny's show, so he was already a fan and was delighted to meet her. Penny was shorter than I was, so Buck towered over her and lifted her off the ground when he gave her a friendly hug. She laughed and said she enjoyed the ride. Buck got a big chuckle out of that.

He pulled out a 30 pack of my favorite beer from the trunk and handed it to me. I called him a saint, and he said he was more of a devil. We went into the house.

One of the giants recognized Buck and told him he was an admirer of Buck's classic T-Bird that he had seen at local car shows. Buck went to various car shows to display his restored 1961 T-Bird and had won numerous awards. Buck was surprised to have to look up at the giants, but they started to get along great.

We finally found out the giants' names, Tim and Deacon. Deacon's real name was Francis, "But don't call me by that name." he said. "I was named after Francis Albert Sinatra, a favorite of my Italian mother."

We all talked for a while, then Penny and I gathered the dishes and went into the kitchen to wash them.

It was almost 8 P.M., and I asked Penny, "Would you be upset if I had a beer?"

She said, "I would be if you didn't offer me one." OK, now I was really in love. I knew Buck didn't drink anymore and the cops couldn't, so we had the 30 all to ourselves. We finished the dishes and stood in the living room making sure everybody was comfortable.

Penny and I excused ourselves, grabbed a couple more beers and went back out to the porch where we talked until the sun went down. Buck and the cops were talking cars, and Buck was relating some of his adventures from his wild days with the police. The giants were amused by his stories.

I decided to go back in the house as we could be targets on the porch from someone out in the dark. Penny locked the porch door and we went into the living room and plopped down on the couch. She snuggled under my arm, and we just sat there in the quiet.

*

Chapter Eight

Buck came over, slid down on an armchair and gave us his walrus smile.

"I got a couple of DVDs like you requested Jimmy. A new James Bond movie and that cute robot movie."

"Buck is a softy for animated robot movies," I said to Penny.

"Well, Wall-E is my favorite, too, I can watch it again." She excused herself to go make some popcorn.

Buck and I talked about the day's events and plotted for the night's possibilities. Buck said he would camp out on the couch. The giants from behind us said they would take turns napping on a recliner.

"Where you gonna sleep, Jimmy?" Buck grinned.

"For sure not on the couch with you." I laughed.

Penny came back in with a big bowl of popcorn and five plastic bags of popcorn. She handed me another beer and set one down for herself on an end table. Yep, definitely love.

She asked Deacon, "Would you take two of the popcorn bags out to the officers in the car?" He did gladly, then she gave one to Buck and Tim. I thought what a great woman this person was. She thought of others and not just herself.

Penny took the Wall-E disc, put it in her DVD player and turned on the huge LCD TV mounted on the wall. We all settled in for movie night at Penny's.

Every now and then Penny would toss a piece of popcorn at my head and pretend she didn't, so I started to toss a few back. After a while, it turned into a popcorn battle with more on our bodies than in our mouths.

"Okay, truce," I said.

"Wimp," she replied.

Taking offense, I said, "Okay, be that way, I'll be leaving now."

She leaned over and quietly said, "You had better not, I have plans for you later."

I said, "Okay, I'll stay. What are you going to do to me?" She just looked at me and grinned.

A short time later, Penny and I started talking like Wall-E and Eve. Buck asked us to grow up or he'd send us to bed, without the popcorn. We started mimicking more, saying "send us to bed" in robot talk. Buck just shook his head and watched the movie while he could.

It was almost 11:00 when the movie finished, and Penny said she needed to get her sleep for work tomorrow. She looked at me and said, "There's a soft chair in my room that you can sleep on while guarding my precious body."

"Hmm...yeah, that would work. Excuse us, gentlemen. Don't get up, we'll see our way out." Buck gave me a wink as we headed down the hall, Penny giggling under her breath.

"Think they fell for it?" she whispered happily.

"Oh, I'm sure they don't suspect a thing." I chuckled. I couldn't believe this fifty eight year old woman was acting like a giggly teenager. I was really hooked on her now.

Once she had me trapped in her bedroom, she went after me like a sex maniac. I was stripped down, and we were rolling on the bed in record time. Then we took things slowly. Really slow. Oh, boy, twice in one day. This woman would kill me if she could. After a session of fantastic lovemaking, we cuddled and rested. She was asleep quite fast and, thankfully, she didn't snore. I lay there holding her for a long while. I was not a good sleeper. Some nights it would take me hours before I would drift off, then I'd wake a couple of hours later.

I was just drifting off around 2 A.M. when I heard a noise. Being a light sleeper also helped. I sat up listening. It seemed like it was outside the bedroom window. I quietly woke Penny, who sprang up wide awake.

I said quietly, "Get out of bed and throw on a robe. Go in your bathroom, lock the door. Don't open it up unless you hear me or Buck tell you otherwise."

She did. I was pulling on my pants, shirt, and shoes when I heard a noise outside again. I softly went to the bedroom door and listened. I could hear the TV playing quietly and went down the hall, but not out into the living room.

From the hall I could see that Buck was nowhere in the room. Deacon was sitting at the snack bar watching TV, and Tim was crashed on the recliner. I went further down the hall, just as I heard glass breaking. A figure stormed in from the kitchen, firing a stun gun, hitting Deacon and incapacitating him. Tim jumped up groggily, and before he had time to react, the figure fired a second stun gun hitting Tim in the chest and knocking him out.

I turned quickly back down the hall and hid behind the almost closed door in Penny's bedroom. I could hear soft footsteps coming down the hall and up to the door. I was trying not to breathe, or pee my pants, and wondered where the hell Buck was. There was a long pause at the door, and then it slowly opened. I waited until it was half-open, then I threw my body full force into the door, bashing whoever was on the other side. I heard a howl, then the door came back at me forcing me against the wall.

I was trapped. He was strong. His head came around the end of the door. He wore a ski mask.

"Well, Richards, you didn't heed my last warning, did you? Now you can die with the TV bitch." He shoved the door again, crushing me and taking my breath away.

"Yes, I'm going to enjoy this. Maybe I'll have my way with Wickens. She is a looker, eh? I'll let you watch."

He brought his hand around the door edge. He had another stun gun. He laughed, and suddenly there was a sound from the hall.

I looked over to the crack in the door and could see Buck. He lunged forward at the killer. They both fell into the room and wrestled around on the floor. There was a small pop, and Buck fell back with the stun gun cord in his side.

He roared at the killer and wouldn't go down. He reared back up, but the killer swung at him. Buck ducked and fell back, that gave the killer the opening to jump up and head out the door. I caught my breath and went to Buck, who was trying to find his legs, but they seemed to go in different directions. His gun was tucked into his belt. I grabbed it and fired once into the ceiling to see if the cops outside were still alert.

I went to the door and carefully looked down the hall with the gun held out. I heard a noise coming from the kitchen. Summoning up my nerve, I ran out and was ready to fire the gun when the cops on outside patrol came bursting through the front door. I held my hands up, "Don't shoot, it's me. The killer went out the back through the kitchen."

They ran in that direction. I returned to the bedroom. Buck was sitting on the floor in a daze.

He babbled nonsense, then lay over on his side and lost consciousness. He was still mumbling, but I knew he was going to be all right. I wasn't going to have Penny come out of the bathroom until I was sure the killer was dead, caught, or gone.

I yelled to her through the door, "Stay in there and just wait till I say it's safe."

I could hear her say she would. I went back to the kitchen and saw that the large window was broken. The killer must have jumped through it into the room when he did his commando raid. I heard a shot from out back by the water, then two more shots.

I tried to see what was happening in the dark of the backyard. Suddenly, I felt dizzy and short of breath. I moved back to the snack bar and had to sit and try to catch my breath. I heard a female voice from the hall calling my name. Penny came down the hall and saw me looking pale and heaving my breath. She ran to me. I had trouble talking. I was in pain.

The patrol officers came back in and rushed over to me. They did a check on me and determined I had broken ribs that were causing pressure on my lung. They had called for EMTs already and laid me down on the couch.

Penny was fretting over me as the patrol officers checked the giants, now looking rather small on the floor. I felt sorry for them knowing when Trapper got here, he'd be pissed off.

About 4 A.M., the medics had me bandaged up like a mummy, and Buck and the giants were all sitting together on the couch looking a bit frazzled. Trapper was talking to the guys stationed outside of the house, and then he came over to me where I was sitting in an armchair, Penny sitting on the arm.

"OK, Richards, let's hear your part in this attempt." He was a bit friendly, probably since Penny hadn't been murdered. Chalk one up for the good guys.

I told him everything from when I heard a noise outside Penny's room, in the backyard.

He looked a bit puzzled and asked, "Why were you in Miss Wickens' room?"

We both smiled, and Trapper just said "Oh, aww...all right, let that go. So, where was our hero, Buck, while the killer was bashing you with the door?" He looked over to Buck.

I looked over to Buck, too, wondering the same thing.

He grinned and said, "I went out for a breath of fresh air and was talking to the cops out front. I had just come back in and saw Tim and Deacon on the floor. I went to the bedroom to check on you guys. That's when I ran into the nut job."

"Why didn't you have your gun out?" I asked.

"I didn't want to accidentally shoot you or Penny, so I waited till I assessed the situation. By that time, he was standing in front of me. I had no time to draw, I just jumped at him. I hate men in ski masks." He grinned.

"George, why did you have a gun?" Trapper asked.

"I'm licensed to carry concealed, for protection from the criminal element."

"Whatever. Just keep it concealed from me. The officers who ran out the back said the killer was escaping in a boat. That's how he got here unseen. We were watching the road out front. He knew the layout here." He turned to Penny. "Have you had anyone in the house recently that could get a look at the place?"

Penny thought and said, "There was a man that came out two weeks ago to give me an estimate on carpeting. He drew out a floor plan with measurements. He was the only person to be in the house in a long time. I never did get the estimate. I just figured they weren't interested in doing the job, and then I forgot about it."

"I'll need the name of that carpet store," he told her. She said she would write it down and went to get the address.

Trapper looked at the giants and said, "Richards explained your part in this. I'm going to assume you men did your jobs the best you could under the circumstances. You two will still be assigned to protection. Just stay on your best." The giants smiled and nodded.

"Miss Wickens, I'm still having a hard time locating Linda Grolich. After this I think the killer may wait to get back to you till this all settles. He will probably try for Grolich now. I just hope he has as much trouble finding her as I am."

"Well, Sergeant, if it helps, I talked to Linda about a year ago. We ran into each other in a restaurant, and after talking a while she told me about a cabin she has up in Lakeport. She said she goes there every so often to get away from people," Penny related.

"Oh, man, that helps. I'll do some checking with the sheriffs who patrol Lakeport and see if they can track her down." He looked at Penny again. "I really think we should put you in a safe house till this is over."

Penny paused. "I understand your concern, but with this crack team of protectors I have here, I'd rather stay in my home. I can take some time off from my show. Phil, the station's weatherman, can do a decent job of filling in for me. He has in the past. But not great enough that he would replace me." She had a cute little smile, an evil smile, but cute.

"Well, that's up to you. I'll leave things the way they are for now. That may throw off the killer figuring we would change things. I'm going to call Lakeport to see if I can find Grolich and alert the sheriffs about the situation."

He told the outside officers to wait for a relief team and asked the giants if they needed relief. They both said they were fine with staying. Trapper said that was fine with him and went out.

We all just sat there, not knowing what to say and too tired to say anything. Penny slipped down on the armchair with me, making me flinch from the ribs. She apologized and started to get up, but I pulled her back down. We snuggled.

"You'll need to get that window in the kitchen boarded up and the front door jamb fixed. Oh, and there's a bullet hole in your bedroom ceiling," I said to her.

She smiled. "I'll leave the bullet hole to remind me of your gallant attempt to protect me."

Buck offered, "I need to go home for a bit to get a few things. I'll measure the window and get a sheet of plywood for it at Home Depot, and some wood for the door. I'll bring it all back, then we can have a construction party. I saw a barbecue grill out back. Seems like a shame not to use it." The walrus smile came out.

Penny got up, took some money out of her purse, and gave it to Buck. "Get the wood and some nice steaks with this. Big juicy steaks."

Buck said, "Yes, ma'am, as you wish. I'm at your command." He got up, swayed a bit, steadied himself, and then left. The giants got up and said they needed some fresh air, so went out with the other two officers to wait for their relief.

Penny and I were finally alone in the house. It felt good. She tightened her hug on me.

"Jim, I really like having you around. For more than just sex." She grinned and kissed me on the cheek. "Although that's a good reason. I was really in a bad way over you back in high school. You were my first serious crush, the kind you don't get over easily. I was so jealous of the way you used to talk about Sara in the lunchroom. You probably don't remember, but I used to hang around with the small circle of friends you had."

"I do remember. I used to hang with the underclassmen, my class was so annoying. You were a doll, even back then, so I do remember. I thought cheerleaders were only accessible to the jocks, and that one jock, Jeff Lyons, seemed to always be around you. I even fantasized about you occasionally. It was hard not to notice you, especially in your short cheerleader skirt. You honestly had the best legs of all the cheerleaders," I confessed.

She looked at me for a moment then said, "We've got some catching up to do. I'll have to buy a new cheerleader outfit, and you can bring your camera."

"Hmm...Interesting thought. I like it!" We made out like teenagers for a while.

*

Chapter Nine

After a half hour we came up for air. Since we were getting a little hot and heavy, we stopped so we wouldn't embarrass anyone walking in and finding us possibly rolling naked on the rug.

Besides, I wanted to have a talk with Penny about the Rocco incident. It could lead to finding out who was doing all that. I really didn't want to change the mood, but I needed to know.

"Penny, I have to ask you about something that I really don't want to hear about, involving you." She looked at me with a puzzled expression. I continued, "It's about Rocco and the charges that were made about inappropriate behavior toward the cheerleaders."

Penny stiffened, then got up. She didn't say anything for a moment, just walked over and sat on a stool at the snack counter. "I've always tried to push that whole thing out of my mind. Dee and I were so against it, but Sue and Marge kept at us for days until we broke down and gave in. Linda and Joyce were mean girls, anyway, so they thought it was all just fun." She went quiet for a bit as though trying to think. "Sue didn't like Mr. Rocco, she didn't like the way he would always treat Mrs. Stone, our gym teacher. He was always pawing at her in their office when he thought no one was looking, but Sue saw them a couple of times."

I got up and went to the stool next to her. "I always thought Mrs. Stone was a bit on the lesbian side even though she was married."

"Her husband was a teacher at another school in the district. No, she may have been a bit butch looking, but not a lesbian. Definitely not. Mr. Rocco was a mean, ornery person towards the students. He treated the football team as if they were idiots. In gym he would torment the slow kids and the overweight ones, pushing them excessively hard. He sent many a boy out crying. He was not well liked by just about everyone. I guess I justified what we did as punishment for him being such a rotten person."

She looked at me and had such a sad expression. "I never realized that we could ruin his career and his life. He left the school, and we were told not to talk about it by the school administration. Linda told us later that he had gotten mean with her in the locker room before he left, that he threatened all of us. She was scared, but he didn't harm her, just the threat."

"What was Mrs. Stone's reaction? Did she know you girls made up the charges?"

"Oh, God, no. We never talked to her about it, and she never brought it up. It was so weird, like it never happened. But Mrs. Stone was never quite the same after that. She became moody and sullen. She wasn't even happy when we found out she was pregnant a couple of months later. Her husband would stop by about twice a week to see if she was all right. At least he was happy."

We both were silent for a while. I was deducing things in my head, which didn't do much.

Penny took a big breath and continued, "Mrs. Stone worked up to the last month of her pregnancy and then just disappeared. She never came back after her son was born. We wanted to visit her, but she told us to stay away. As for Mr. Rocco, Sue told us she heard one of the teachers in the office saying that he heard Rocco was in jail in Lansing for drunk, disorderly, and assault. He was working as a janitor in some factory, and he came in drunk to work one day. He had a fight with his boss. They called the cops and took him away, but not before he broke a pop bottle over his boss's head causing a severe concussion. He went into a coma. Rocco was sent to jail for a year. God, did we push him to that?"

"Hey, he had the meanness in him. It would have only been a matter of time before he might have hurt someone at school. You can't blame yourself for his actions." I tried to comfort her, she was still looking so sad.

"You really think so? I've had nightmares about screwing up some man's life and what he would end up like. It's been my shame for years."

"I remember Rocco from my gym class. He kept calling me four-eyed Richards because of my glasses. It was annoying, and after way too many insults I wanted to pound on him for it. But, he was the teacher and bigger than me, and I was a wimp back then." I smiled, and the corners of her mouth turned up a little. "OK, we need to assess this situation and figure out who and why someone is killing off the cheerleaders. The connection has to be Rocco, unless you remember someone else who hated the cheerleaders."

She grinned and said, "Yeah, all the homely girls in school."

We laughed and then went quiet.

"You really think this has to do with Rocco? Why would he wait till now to attack us?" She looked sad again.

"Well, he can't attack you. He died last December," I said.

She looked surprised. "If it's not him, then who?"

"I did some checking. He has a daughter in Chicago. She's a criminal lawyer, and I'm wondering if this is some death bed promise for revenge on the girls he believed brought him down." I saw the look in her eyes. It was self-blame this time. "Penny, get it out of your head that what you did caused his miserable life. He was destined to it."

She stared off into the distance. I snapped my fingers in front of her face and said, "I need to use your computer. May I?"

She finally got a smile, and said, "Sweetie, you don't have to ask. It's now community property."

"Wow, what happened to the pre-nup?" I joked.

"Hell with it. I trust you." She kissed me, then got up and went to the computer desk across the family room and turned on the computer. She turned to me and looking deeply into my eyes for a long beat of our hearts. "And I love you. Silly woman that I am, but I do."

I got up from my stool, went to her, put my arm around her, and whispered in her ear, "I do love you, too, and I won't let your past harm you in any way. I promise that with my heart." While we waited for the computer to boot up, and while we clung to each other, I thought about love. It could latch on to us fast when we least expected it, you know like 'love at first sight.' Penny and I had known each other for over forty years and yet didn't. This one day we spent together, talking about our lives and loves and what we did and didn't have, brought me closer to her than if we had seen each other every day for years. I didn't take love for granted, had been hurt by it too many times. This time it felt real, like in our souls. Soul mates, if that's what it was. I knew it to be so.

The computer was beeping, so I went to the desk chair and sat. I brought up a browser and typed "Julia Waters" into Google. Penny watched over my shoulder and asked who she was. I told her. She asked if I knew anything about her. I said she was born years after Rocco left our school. He must have had some good times in his life. And from my call to her law firm, the last time she was in Michigan was for her father's funeral last December.

The search brought up the usual million hits. I flipped through the pages, stopping at anything related to her. Penny brought a dining room chair over and sat beside me. I took her hand whenever I paused to read something.

I knew she was hurting over bad memories, and reading about someone attached to those memories didn't help. I finally found an article written recently in a Chicago newspaper that went into more detail about her life in Michigan.

"Here we go, a little more info about her." I read the story, then looked at Penny. "She had a very miserable childhood growing up with her father. Her mother ran off when she was twelve because her father beat on her mother so bad that she ended up hospitalized numerous times. Her mother wouldn't press charges, so the police always turned him loose. Julia wanted to escape from it all but wouldn't leave her mother. After her mother finally left one day and disappeared, Julia ran away from her father's home numerous times, but was always brought back. When she finally reached legal age, she left. She lived with a cousin back in Lansing and went to Michigan State for a law degree. She worked two jobs and was still able to complete her courses. She very rarely visited her father after he moved to Bad Axe, Michigan. When she graduated, she moved to Chicago to work for a small law firm there. After a few years, she made a name for herself and moved up to the prestigious law firm of Bander, Witt, and Grey."

"At least she made something of herself," commented Penny.

"Yeah, she started working with abused women about five years ago and has been praised for fighting against abusive spouses. It says 'spouses' because she stressed that men can also be victims of bad relationships. I know how that is. I lived with an abusive woman for two years. I got far away from her when I finally had enough of it." I looked at her and grinned. "You're not abusive are you?"

"Shut up and keep reading or I'll smack you upside your head." She looked serious, and then her mouth cracked a tiny smile. I kissed it.

"It does mention that she came back to Michigan for her father's funeral. She admits that she wasn't fond of her father, a polite way to say she hated him, but respected him for the good years he gave her. She said he wasn't always bad, just had problems from an incident that happened to him years ago that left him bitter about life."

Penny took a breath and said, "He didn't forget. I am so ashamed of all us for what we did."

"You guys were just teenagers. You weren't supposed to be smart. At least you realize what you did was wrong, and you just have to get over it. Nothing you can do about it now." I hoped she didn't beat herself up over this. I wished it never had happened, hoped that someone wasn't out on a vendetta over this.

"I really should write her or call or something to apologize for it." Her eyes were welling up. I reached for a tissue box on the computer desk and gave her a tissue.

"Something to think about for later, but for now we have to keep you alive to be able to apologize." I pushed back from the desk and thought a bit. "We need to stop him before he gets to you and Linda. We have to play detectives and solve this mystery."

"You haven't done much of this detecting, have you?"

"I take offense to that, ma'am. I have read just about all the good crime, detective, and P.I. novels written, so I feel I'm qualified to investigate this case," I said whole heartedly, but with a grin.

The stress was making her giddy. I think she finally snapped. "Does that make me your moll? Am I a floozy in a tight dress, just swooning over your masculine wiles? Tell me, Mike Hammer, can you save me?"

Boy, could she put on a show. I hadn't heard talk like that since late night, black and white TV crime shows, the kind you can tell were filmed on a cheap set in some small studio.

"Listen, doll, I ain't gonna tell you again. Don't talk unless I tell you to while I'm scrutinizing this case."

She laughed aloud, sounding better than she had for the last half hour.

I took the adult position. "OK, back to reality. Remind me today to make some calls to track down Julia Waters' whereabouts for the last week. I was told she was in California, but is that what she wanted people to believe? California is three hours behind us, so I'll call this afternoon."

It was almost 8 A.M., and Penny said she had to call the studio to explain her absence. She got up and went into the kitchen to use the phone. I stared at the computer screen, which still had the article about Julia Waters on it. It had a picture of her, not very beautiful, kind of a plain, ordinary looking woman.

I needed to track down the new offices of Bander, Witt, and Grey in California and talk to Miss Waters. I wasn't sure what story I was going to make up, but I would find out if she came back here during the murders of the four women who screwed up, but didn't deserve this fate.

Maybe I should just come out with the truth. It sometimes works.

The giants came back in and said the relief cops had arrived. Changing of the guard, but Tim and Deacon elected to stay.

"Are you guys all right with pulling an extra shift?" I inquired.

"We need to make some brownie points with the Sarge, especially after letting that scumbag slip by us. You feel better now?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, my ribs don't hurt quite as bad now. As long as I don't breathe or move, I'm all right." I smiled.

Penny came back into the room and said she took a couple days off from work. She didn't tell them she was hiding out from a killer, but it would make a good show when it was over. I silently told myself that I hoped she was still alive to put on that show. I vowed that I would not let anything hurt her. This was very personal, now. I needed to talk to Buck about getting a gun on the side.

Penny asked me if I had seen her cat. Shadow was its name. I said no, but it might have slipped out with everyone going in and out. She looked concerned, and said it had gotten out before and it was days until it came back. She frowned.

Penny asked the cops if they would like some breakfast, and they started drooling, really they did. It was like watching two huge St. Bernards in front of a gigantic bowl of dog kibble. They even offered to help, but Penny told them to guard the house. She went off to the kitchen.

"Man, that is some woman," Deacon drawled. He must have come from the south, I deduced. He looked at me. "If you two don't make it, let me know," he said with a really huge smile on that huge head of his. He actually looked somewhat cute.

"I have no intentions of letting her go. Sorry. You can fight me for her, and I'm sure you'll win, but my heart will still be hers." I stood and moved up real close to him. "Got that, big guy?"

He put his face close to mine and said, "You just better watch your back tonight, shorty."

We both laughed loud and hard. Penny poked her head back in the room and asked, "What was so funny?"

"We're fighting over you," I answered.

"I'm betting on the big guy," she replied, looking serious.

"Yeah, well, I love you, too." I looked back to Deacon and said, "This is not over, mister."

"Shoot your best shot, Mr. I'm-afraid-of-cats!"

"Oh, low blow. Thanks, Gargantua."

He took a pretend poke towards me. I went into the kitchen crying that Deacon was brutalizing me. Penny chased me out, telling me to grow up and telling Deacon to stop fighting with the little kid.

She scored more points with me.

*

Chapter Ten

Buck came back around 11:30, hauling out a big sheet of plywood from his mini-van. He headed around back with it. I went out and met him coming back around the house, and we went to get the rest of his shopping. I grabbed the steaks and said he could do the heavy work. After all, I was injured and had to take care of my body. He asked, "For what, more sex?" I ignored his comment and headed back to the house. Penny gave Buck a big hug when he came in. He looked at me and stuck out his tongue. She took the steaks from me and headed to the kitchen again, after giving me a kiss.

"I get the kiss, you get the hug." I smirked.

"She'll get tired of you once she finds out how boring you are." He smirked back.

With all the male testosterone in the house, and all of us salivating over Penny, I hoped we didn't kill each other before we caught the real killer.

My cell phone rang. It said private number, and I took a gamble. "Yes, Trapper?"

He was quiet for a couple of seconds, then said, "Richards, the Lakeport area sheriffs have located Linda Grolich. She's all right for now. How's things with Wickens?"

"All's well here. We're getting ready to patch up the holes in the house and barbecue some nice steaks."

"Do you have enough meat for the hulk brothers?" I could tell he was smiling.

"If not, they can chew on the furniture. Are you with Grolich?" I wondered.

"No, I'm heading up there to see her now. It's an hour ride up that I'm not looking forward to. At least I'm not driving. I'm going to see if we can get her back down here so she and Wickens are closer together, make it easier to watch them."

I told Trapper to hold on and went to the kitchen. I told Penny that they had found Linda and were going to talk her into going back home to be closer to us. Penny suggested that Linda could come and stay here in the guest room. That way the cops could keep the place surrounded. I asked if she really wanted more people in the house. She smiled and said she was having fun. I was amazed. Her life was in danger, and she thought it was fun. I got back on the phone.

"Trapper, Penny said it would be OK with her if Linda stayed here in her guest room. See if she would be amenable to that."

"Well, if it's all right with Wickens and if Grolich agrees, that would make our lives easier and might confuse the killer a bit. He'd really have to do his homework to figure out how to kill two women in one place."

"There's always a bomb," I half joked.

"Wonderful, give me a bigger headache. I don't think he'd do that. He would be killing cops, and so far he hasn't tried to kill any. I think he just wants to murder the women and embarrass the police."

"Well, whatever. Let us know what Grolich says," I finished, and Trapper hung up. I've noticed he doesn't like to say good-bye.

"I'm not going to regret inviting Linda here, am I? You aren't going to chase after her now?" Penny looked me in the eyes and snarled.

"I've already seen a picture of her on her website. I'm not interested."

"Oh, is it just my good looks that make you want me?" she inquired as she pounded on the steaks with a very large meat hammer. I feared for my life.

"No, darling, I love you for your brain. Well, maybe your cute butt, too," I confessed.

"Better. Now, I'm going to let the steaks marinate in beer for a while." She had just elevated to sainthood. She took a couple of cans out of the fridge and popped the tops like a pro. She poured the contents into a deep pan, soaking the raw meat.

I told her I was going back to the computer to see if I could locate Waters' law firm in California. She turned me and pushed me toward the computer. I sat on the desk chair, and she plopped down on my lap.

"Kind of hard to type and molest you at the same time." I grimaced.

"You can't multi-task? I'm not getting up." She bit my neck and growled in my ear. It sent a chill up my spine. I had to forcibly turn my attention to the computer. I reached around her, being sure to run my arm across her breasts. She giggled and did a little lap dance on me. This was not going to be easy.

I managed to bring up an article about the new law firm in San Francisco and noted the phone number. I started to get up, and she protested, saying she was comfortable. I slid her off my lap, took her hand and led her to the bedroom. Buck and the bruisers were outside playing carpenters so we had time to do some investigating.

"The bedroom? So early in the day?" she panted in my ear.

"Knock it off. We have to play Nick and Nora Charles now," I said, referring to the classic detective stories about "The Thin Man."

She looked at my beer belly and said, "Not exactly the thin man, are you?"

I stared at her for a moment, then went to get the phone and sat on the bed. She climbed on the bed and straddled me from behind, nibbling on my free ear. I swatted at her and dialed the number.

"Law offices of Bander, Witt, and Grey. How may I direct you?" came an efficient voice sounding much like the one in Chicago.

"May I speak with Julia Waters, please?" Doing the big smile thing.

"Miss Waters is not available at the moment. May I ask who is calling?" Miss Efficiency inquired.

"Yes, I'm personal assistant to Penny Wickens. She has a TV talk show, 'Penny for Your Thoughts', here in the Detroit area, and she is interested in having Miss Waters as a guest to talk about spousal abuse." Penny squeezed me from behind reminding me that my ribs were still trying to heal.

"I can't speak for her, although I'm sure Miss Waters would be willing to talk about the subject, but she is presently out of the state. She's on a much needed rest somewhere in Cabo." More info than a receptionist should give out, but I was glad she did.

"Wow, Cabo is great. Sorry I missed her. Has she been gone long?" I dug.

"Just for the last week. She should be back in Chicago soon from Cabo. You can call her office in Chicago to see when she is due back. Do you have the number there?"

"Yes, I do. That's how I found out she was in San Francisco."

"Of course. I hope you can reach her. She is passionate about spreading the word on abuse." She was giving that big smile, too.

I thanked her, said I would call Chicago, said good-bye, and hung up.

"OK, plot thickens. She's been off somewhere for the last week." I twisted toward Penny.

She pulled me back on the bed. "Do I have to pay you as a personal assistant now?" she said, biting me on the ear again. I wrestled her, but had to pull away when I felt pain in my ribs. She let me go and looked concerned.

I lay on the bed catching my breath. "I hope this won't interfere with any rough housing we may do tonight." I grinned.

"Oh, you expect it now. I may start making you earn it." She got up from the bed and left me alone.

"Hey, not nice," I protested.

She peeked around the door and said, "I never said I was nice." Then she disappeared again.

I followed her out to the kitchen where she stuck her finger in the beer and made me lick it. I sucked on her finger for a while then stopped. "I don't know where that finger has been, but I like the taste."

"Maybe some time I could marinate myself in beer. Would you like that?" she teased. The image in my head was delightful.

"On a serious note, I have to do something for a couple of hours. First, change my clothes, and then I really need to explain you to my mother. I think you'll be safe with Buck and the Gorgo twins till I get back, though I don't know how safe they'll be from you." I kissed her cheek.

"I think I can survive till you get back. I want to meet your parents when this is over. My parents are both long passed, so you lucked out. Go do your thing and get back to me."

We locked lips for a bit. Then I headed out the door, around to the back, and told Buck what I was going to do. He said I shouldn't leave Penny alone with his charms. I said he better watch himself or I'd sick the giants on him. They agreed to keep an eye on Buck and Penny, and with that, I left. While I was outside, I introduced myself to the relief cops and told them I'd be back.

As I was driving down Gratiot Avenue, I reviewed the past few days' events. It seemed like a dozen days had passed. Time doesn't fly when there's murder involved. I was surprised that my mother hadn't called me to see if I was still alive. She was a worrier, something that was nice, but it bugged me a little. I was sixty years old and still felt like a child. Parents say, "you'll always be my little boy," but I don't buy it. I am a responsible, mature person, not a damn child. Let us children grow up and turn us loose. Do birds call on their young after they throw them out of the nest? I think not. Because the young birds are smart, they move far away from Mom and Pop.

My lack of sleep was catching up on me. I pulled into the driveway and almost didn't get out of the car. Yeah, I was nervous about talking to my mom about my relationship with Penny. I don't share feelings easily. Penny was the first girl I ever confessed my love to and meant it. It was crazy. I'd only been back in touch with her for two days after forty-two years apart, and I was ready to run off with her. Stupid love, anyway.

I got out of the car and went into the house. Mom was cheerful that morning, which was good. I went into my room and grabbed a change of clothes, being sure not to let Mom see my bandages. I changed quickly. I went back out to the kitchen where Mom was sitting at the table, which served as her desk and pharmacy, for all the pills she gave my dad.

I sat down across from her and said I needed to talk. I didn't tell her the whole story. She would have had a coronary if she knew I was involved with murder. Maybe I'd tell her after the dust settled. So, I told her I met a woman, her name was Penny, we hit it off, liked each other and would be seeing each other a lot more. I told her I would still be around to help with Dad and running errands, but I would be spending more time with Penny. Surprisingly, Mom was happy. She was worried I was turning into a hermit, always in my room. It wasn't healthy for a grown man to be alone. She told me to go have a happy life, and she wanted to meet Penny. I told her it was Penny Wickens from the talk show, and Mom got all excited. Now she really wanted to meet her. I said it would be a while, but she would have a chance to get together. Penny was kind of busy right now.

Mom was satisfied. I told her I had some running to do and then was going back to Penny. I said I would return to help get Dad to bed and then excused myself. I wanted to get back to Penny's to be sure she was all right. I asked if Mom needed anything. She didn't. I packed up my laptop and a few other things I would need and headed out.

I stopped at a store and bought some Pepsi and chips. I needed them to survive each day. I drove into Penny's drive and waved to the cop in front. I presumed the other was out back. They had to also watch the water now. I noticed Deacon was prowling around outside. I asked him what he was doing. He said he was making sure all was good out here and getting some fresh air. I went in. Penny was in the kitchen, assembling potato salad.

"Well, back in time to start the barbecue. Buck and Tim are out back getting the fire going." She handed me the plate of steaks and steered me to the door. I said "Hi" to everyone. Deacon had now drifted around and joined us. Buck took the plate from me and insisted he was the grill master. I didn't argue. Penny and I sat together on her picnic table and watched the festivities. Tim and Deacon went off to visit with the other cop by the water, talking strategy or maybe cars. I was trying to keep an eye out for anything suspicious outside the yard. A person could fire a high powered rifle from the woods next to her property. Penny could see I was a little tense.

"Sweetie, stop worrying. I'll be all right. The killer seems to only hit at night and usually up close." She comforted me with her braveness. I sort of knew she was right, but killers don't have set rules.

"Yeah, well, this killer won't get close to you." I gritted my teeth and pulled her closer to me.

"Did your talk with your mother go well?" she asked.

"Yeah, better than I thought it would. But now she really wants to meet you since I told her who you were." I smiled.

"Well, I want to meet her, she brought you into this world just for me." She grinned.

After a while, the steaks were ready. Everybody got their plate full of steak and potato salad and sat or stood around the picnic table. After we ate, everyone helped clean up. Buck, Penny, and I went into the house. The cops decided to stay outside for a while.

The three of us went to the family room and sat, feeling full from all the food. I told Penny that around 6:00 I would have to run back to my house to get my Dad to bed. She said she wished she could go, but was sure the cops would object. I said I wouldn't be gone long.

We had about four hours before I had to go, so I suggested we take a nap. She grinned and said she'd like that. Buck was already involved watching the James Bond DVD on the TV so he waved us off, and we went to the bedroom. We snuggled and kissed a bit, but we decided to actually take a nap. We had a long, sleepless night and needed to rest up for what the day had in store. I set the alarm on my Palm TX for two hours, and we slipped off to dreamland.

*

Chapter Eleven

The phone rang about an hour later. Penny answered it. She held it out to me as I lay on the bed, still half-asleep.

"Hello?" I slurred.

"Richards, Trapper here. We got Grolich, and we're taking her home. She doesn't want to go anywhere else. I couldn't convince her. Tell Wickens it was a nice gesture, but it's a no-go. We're going to transport her to Bloomfield where she lives and get the local police involved. She confirmed the Rocco incident, so I'm betting he's the connection. She hasn't seen her emails yet, so we're bracing for a threat."

"Yeah, well, I called San Francisco to see where Rocco's daughter's been. They say she went to Cabo for the last week. Might want to check the airlines to see if she made a side stop here."

"Again, officially, stop investigating. But unofficially, thanks for the info. It helps. I'll check back with you later to see if all is well there. Call me if trouble pops up." He hung up, again without a good-bye.

I relayed the information to Penny who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. She was disappointed that she wouldn't have another female in the overly testosterone filled house. I kissed her hand and said, "I could put on a dress if it would make you happy."

She wrinkled her nose at me and said, "You'd be a butt-ugly woman."

I slapped her behind and asked if she was still sleepy. She wasn't, so I got up and we went out to the family room. Buck was not there. I looked out the front window and saw him and two of the cops leaning on the car talking. I was glad he was getting over his police phobia. Penny and I sat on the couch and listened to the silence.

She giggled, then said, "Wanna get married after this is over?"

I stared at her a moment then said, "I thought we were having a long engagement first."

"I thought so, too, but you're old and could die before I get to inherit your fortune."

I grimly said, "You mean my twenty year old car and the clothes on my back? You'd have to take care of my parents if I'm gone."

"OK, so let's do it."

"We'll discuss it after we catch the killer."

"What if we never catch him? What if he escapes and disappears?"

"We'll see if that happens."

"Spoil sport."

Buck and Tim came back through the newly repaired front door, spotted us and sat down. They said they had the patrol detail scheduled for the night for the front and back of the house. Buck didn't have to work for a couple more nights, so he was more than happy to camp out here. Penny thanked him.

We sat and talked for the next two hours, Deacon and Tim floating in and out of the house as they made their rounds. About 5:45, I told Penny that I was going to the house to do my thing. She kissed me and walked me to my car. I really hated to leave her, not just because of the killer, but because I just didn't want to leave her.

I traveled back down Groesbeck Highway and turned onto Fifteen Mile Road just as a car crossed over the lane heading right towards me. I panicked but kept my head, steered the car to the right, up over the curb, across railroad tracks, stopping just before dropping down an embankment and into a gully. I looked back, noticing the car had slowed and saw what looked like a woman at the wheel. She was watching me. She then sped off, leaving me with my heart beating up in my throat.

A guy in a pickup truck had seen the incident and stopped to see if I was all right. He helped me get my car back over the tracks and onto the road. He said the car was a black '99 Pontiac SSE Bonneville, but couldn't read the license plate on the back of the car. He said the plate was covered with mud, looked like it was smeared on.

I thanked him and drove off toward my parents. I was watching around for that car, using the image in my head. I wouldn't know one car make from another, but I would remember that one. The killer tried to make a metal sculpture out of me. That worried me. I arrived at my parents' house, paused to watch for the car, but didn't see it. I was concerned for my parents. I would have to talk to Trapper about the attack and about them. Would the killer go after them to spite me? Would he, or possibly she, bother to take time from killing the cheerleaders to waste on me? I really thought not. But, after the car incident, I wasn't so sure. I went in the house and helped Mom with the nightly routine, then excused myself again and headed back to Penny's, watching the roads carefully.

I got back at about 6:50, took Buck aside and told him what happened. He was pissed. I told him not to say anything to Penny about it. I met Penny in the kitchen and gave her a real big lip lock, glad to be alive. I wasn't going to mention the attack. It would just worry her. I told her I had a call to make, went into the bedroom, and called Trapper. I related the incident, and he agreed it sounded like a deliberate attack. He said they had Grolich under house arrest for her own good. She also received an email threat when they got back to her home. The Birmingham police were on the scene with warnings about the prior murderers M.O. They said they would be vigilant. Trapper told me to cover my ass and hung up.

I sat on the bed thinking. Penny softly knocked on the door.

"Come on in," I said.

"You OK? You looked a little pale when you got back. Parents OK?" she asked, as she sat next to me.

"Everyone's fine. I'm just a little worn down. Showing my age, that's all." I gave her a big smile and kissed her cheek.

"I told you we should get married right away. Us old people should go for the gusto while we can." She grinned.

"Who are you calling old? I'm only thirty-nine," I stated.

"In dog years," she countered.

I looked at her, got up, and left her alone in the room.

"Hey, not nice," she yelled.

I peeked back around the door and said, "Us old people aren't nice." Then I went to the family room. She came in and went to the kitchen. I followed.

"Just where a woman should be, in the kitchen. Take your shoes off. You should be barefoot, too." I laughed.

She threw a plastic cup at my head. I ducked.

She pulled a package of smoked sausages out of the fridge and told me to tell everyone who might be hungry that she was nuking sausages in the microwave and serving with the rest of the potato salad.

All those who responded came and ate. Then Buck, Penny, and I went to the family room again to sit and watch James Bond on DVD. Buck stretched out on the recliner and said he was going to nap.

I looked at Buck then said to Penny, "Gee, dear, aren't you so proud of our son? Just look how big he has grown."

Penny laughed.

Buck lifted his head from the recliner and raised a finger in salute.

"Hey, young man, don't you go giving the finger to your father!" Penny scolded.

Buck raised both fingers in reply.

We laughed.

The phone rang and Penny got up to answer. She handed the phone to me.

"Hello?"

"Richards, it's Trapper. I've got some bad news. I got a call from the chief of police and was informed we don't have the man power to keep four men on protection. I explained that an attempt was already made and would happen again. He was sympathetic, but we are shorthanded on the roads. Since the last millage didn't pass, we had to cut our staff. He said I could keep one man on, but the rest have to go back to duty. Sorry, man, nothing more I can do."

"Crap, that's just fine. They need to write tickets, not save lives," I said bitterly.

"Jim, I understand how you feel. My hands are tied. I have to pull three back. Let them decide who stays. Worse yet, I can't put anyone on Grolich. Chief feels the Birmingham police should shoulder the burden. If either woman is killed, I'm going to rub it in his face. Subtly, but it will be a rub. Watch yourselves." He hung up.

"Shit." I very rarely swear aloud, but this was for a good reason. Penny asked what was wrong. Buck rose up in the chair and waited. I told them what Trapper said. Buck cursed, but Penny took it in stride.

"I've still got you two strong men to watch me. Wasn't it the two of you who protected me last night?"

If she was trying to make me feel better, it wasn't working.

Deacon came into the house just then and said they got the call on the car radio. He said that he had volunteered to stay on. The others were leaving.

We went out to thank them and say good-bye. We stood in the front yard. I looked at Buck, wondering what we were going to do now.

Buck spoke first. "Can't let this get us down. We can do it, just have to be a bit more watchful, but we can do it."

"I have every confidence the three of you can save my skin." Penny smiled. She was still such a little cheerleader, even now.

She continued, "Let's just get through this night. I'm going to call the studio and tell them I'm coming back to work tomorrow. I need the change. Besides, there are more people there who can be on watch. I'll just have to level with them."

I had to agree with that. We would stick close, and with everybody watching, she would probably be safe.

"OK, it's a plan, but we'll have to figure something different for tomorrow night. Different place, maybe," I said. "Deacon, is that OK with you?"

"I always wanted to watch a TV show being made. I like it." He grinned.

Buck went to his van and took a small case out of the back. He handed it to me, and I opened it to find an Army .45, in excellent shape. I closed the box and said I would take good care of it.

We went in, and after going around turning on all the lights inside and outside of the house, we all sat in the family room talking. I suggested to Penny that she and I should be in the guest room tonight, to throw off any attempts by the killer. Buck said he'd take the master bedroom, but wouldn't sleep, just sit by the door with his .38. I told him to set his chair up against the door so he could sleep, but if someone attempted to come in, he'd know. He liked that idea.

I said we could all just sit in the family room partying all night, but we'd be miserable in the morning. Everyone agreed on the group party. Penny leaned over to me, whispering, "If we stay in here all night, we'll have to pass up the sex."

I looked at her and said, "You'll still be horny tomorrow, I think we can manage for one night. We'll just have to make up for it later."

She faked a pout and said, "We won't be able to make up for it later if the killer gets us."

"We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen. I still have a few good runs in me." I wanted to take her straight into the bedroom when she smiled at me.

For the next six hours, Buck and Deacon took turns looking out windows. Everyone was on edge and ready for a sneak attack. Buck had his gun tucked in his belt. I had the .45 tucked behind me in my belt. I made Penny lie down on the couch to sleep. She had to look good for the camera tomorrow. She argued, but gave in. She was tired. I prowled from front room to kitchen and back. Buck suggested we sleep in shifts and told me to go first. I was really wasted by then. It was 3 A.M., so I stretched out on the recliner. I told Buck to wake me in an hour. He didn't.

I woke at 7:30 and scolded Buck for not waking me earlier. He just grinned. Penny was already up and in the bathroom getting ready. We all piled into Buck's van. It was the only vehicle that would support both Buck and Deacon. We headed down the I-94 freeway to I-696, then down the Southfield Freeway to the TV studio.

Penny guided us through the gate guard, who was glad to see her back. We went in the studio entrance, Penny using her pass card. Penny was greeted by her gaggle of helpers, assistants, and make-up people. She asked the floor manager to call everyone to sit in the audience seats, she wanted to talk to everyone. The floor manager looked from me, up to Buck, then up to Deacon, and back down to Deacon's big gun. He went off, calling for all the studio personnel. After a couple of minutes, everyone was seated, and Penny came up front.

"Thank you all for your patience. I have to ask everyone to be on their toes today. My life has been threatened, and the killer was here the other day during my last show. These two men and the officer here are my body guards." She smiled at me. "But, it would really help if you could be on the lookout for suspicious activity or people doing what they shouldn't be doing. Besides, if you keep me alive, then Phil won't be doing my show anymore." The crew all cheered at that, and Phil gave everyone the finger, but smiled.

I interrupted. "Please, be on the lookout for any audience member moving away from the group or someone you don't know wandering the building. If you do see someone, call security and keep the person in sight, but do not attempt to stop them. This person has already murdered four women."

The group murmured, and then Penny spoke. "OK, everyone, we have a show to get on tape. Stay alert, but go about your business." She headed back to her dressing room as we stuck close. She was so commanding, I felt turned on. I whispered it to her. She said she'd deal with me later.

She went to the dressing table and sat quietly while her hair and make-up people did their magic. The hair stylist was making eyes at Deacon. He turned red. Everyone was deathly quiet otherwise. The floor manager stopped in, giving Penny her guest sheet and question cards. Penny looked at the sheet and smiled.

She looked at me. "Today, we have the director of the 'Detroit Light House,' a shelter for battered women. Isn't that ironic? I will ask him if he knows of Julia Waters."

I took the sheet and read the bio on the guy. He had worked mostly around Michigan at various shelters, but it didn't say anything about his connections. He was a person of interest, as the police would say.

"He may be of interest to talk to after the show. Maybe fill us in on Julia," I said.

The 'ten minutes to taping' call was announced and Penny headed out to the stage, her groupies following. We followed the groupies. I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was following me.

On the stage, she greeted Benjamin Brooks, the director of Light House. She told him to sit in the guest chair and explained how things worked. He just sat there nodding his head, and then the lights went on to warm up to full power. The audience was already in their seats. I scanned the group, looking for anyone suspicious. Buck went around the other side of the stage and planted himself on a stool. Deacon was stationed behind the set and watched on the stage crew's monitor. The crew greeted him and explained what went on back stage. I made a walk around the set, checking all the nooks and crannies to see if there was a way anyone could attack Penny without being seen. The show was starting.

The floor manager became the floor director and called for all cameras to take their marks. He went to the audience and prompted them as to how to watch the applause signs and respond. He ran them through a couple of tests and was satisfied.

He called up to the control booth and turned it over to them. The sound engineer tested and adjusted all the mics. He was satisfied. The opening music came up, and the opening credits rolled on the monitor. A short montage of shots of Penny around the Detroit area ran, and then it went live to her.

"Good afternoon, Metro Detroit. I'm Penny Wickens. Welcome to "Penny for Your Thoughts," Penny shouted.

The applause sign lit, and the audience responded.

"Today, we have Benjamin Brooks as our guest. Benjamin is the director of the Detroit Light House, a non-profit shelter for abused women." Applause again.

"Welcome, Mr. Brooks." She smiled.

"Please, call me Ben. My father was Mr. Brooks." He smiled back.

"Well, call me Penny. Ben, please tell us the purpose of the Light House."

For the next half hour Ben went on about his aspirations for Light House, sounding a bit pompous. He definitely was in it for the glory. Penny finally broke the ice.

"Ben, do you know of Julia Waters and her work in Chicago with battered and abused women?"

He seemed to be thrown by the question for a brief moment. He recovered, then flashed his expensive teeth and replied, "Why, yes, I know of her work. She is an inspiration to all shelters around the country. She has helped establish important legislation in regard to spousal abuse." He paused.

Before he could say anything more, I heard a small screeching noise and looked up to where it came from. I looked over to Buck. He heard it, too, and was also looking up. Suddenly, I saw Buck leap off the stool and crash into Penny, Ben, and their chairs, knocking them off to the side. Barely seconds after, a light bar came crashing down in the same spot where Penny and the guest had sat. I jumped forward to the stage. Deacon came tearing through the curtain from behind the set, and we stood looking up.

I couldn't see anything in the dark. I yelled to get lights turned up overhead. The stage crew was scrambling around, and someone flipped on the work lights. The stage lit overhead, but we couldn't see anything on the catwalk. Then I saw a flash of movement off to the side of the rigging. Buck was up, helping Penny and Ben off the floor. I called to Buck, pointed to the direction of the movement and headed that way.

I yelled to Deacon to watch Penny. He moved over to her. Buck and I went around back and heard a door slamming. We followed the noise. It seemed we were chasing a ghost, ever ahead of us, but we continued to follow. Down halls and through other sets in the station. I didn't realize how many rooms and places there were in the small looking building. We came to the last door we heard close, crashed through it with guns drawn. We came face to face with the gate guard, on break, smoking a cigarette, looking shocked.

"Wow, this no smoking thing is getting serious," he said, shaking.

*

Chapter Twelve

Penny and her guest were resting in her dressing room. The audience was told it was just an accident and asked them to be patient while they fixed the problem. I called Trapper and relayed the incident to him. He said he couldn't do much since we were in Southfield, but to have the local police call him if they had any questions about the connection with his cases. I told him we weren't planning on bringing in the local police. We already knew it wasn't going to help. He had to agree and said to keep him informed. I asked how Linda was holding up. He said they moved her to a safe house despite her protests.

Penny and her guest were relaxed now, and ready to finish the show. The show must go on, was the old adage. They went out to the applause of the audience, no sign necessary this time. The show was finally finished, and the audience left feeling excited by what had happened. We asked Ben to join us in the dressing room for a talk. Outside the dressing room, I stopped Buck.

"OK, something is bothering me. How did the killer know we would be back here, and how did he have time to get the 'accident' set up?"

"Beats me. He must be psychic," Buck said, rubbing his bald head.

"I need to check and see if Penny's phone was somehow being tapped. It's the only way he could have known. She called here yesterday about coming back. That would give the killer plenty of time to figure out his moves."

"Makes sense to me," Buck agreed.

We went into the dressing room. I sat next to Brooks. I reached into my pocket and turned on my Palm Treo then pushed the side button which started the record function. I began the conversation.

"Ben, first I want to tell you that was no accident out there."

His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

"There is someone killing former classmates from my old high school. It seems this person has targeted the cheerleaders. Penny is one of the targets and has had two attempts on her life, counting today. There have already been four women killed by this person, and we believe it may be connected to Julia Waters."

Now his eyes went wide. "I have nothing to do with Miss Waters. I have no connection to her."

"I'm not accusing you of anything. We just want to know if you can tell us anything about her," I assured him.

"Julia Waters is a woman of high stature in our community. She has crusaded to fight abuse of women and men. I cannot believe she would be involved in something as low as murder," he defended, with an air of arrogance. "Besides, I don't know much about her. I know she came to Michigan often, as her late father lived here, and has been in the Detroit area numerous times, staying at her summer home in Lake Orion."

That caught my attention. I looked at Buck since I knew he had lived in that area for a few years and had friends there. Buck asked if Brooks knew where in town she lived. He said he didn't. Buck said he'd make a few calls and see what he could find. He went out to make the call.

"You never spoke to her?" I asked Ben.

"No. I heard her speak at a symposium once, but never got to talk one on one." He was looking nervous now. His eyes were darting around and he wouldn't make eye contact with me.

I took that cue. "You seem to be holding something back, Benjamin. You seem nervous about something. Maybe you knew Julia better than you admit." Deacon thankfully moved behind me in Brooks' line of vision. The sight of the huge cop made him squirm a bit more. "Interesting you would know about that summer home since you said you didn't know her that well."

He said nothing. I continued, "You also mentioned her late father. He just passed away four months ago. Do you keep up on people you hardly know?"

He stood and said, "I don't have to answer your questions. You aren't the police. Well, maybe he is." He looked at Deacon.

Deacon moved forward, towering over Brooks, and spoke softly. "Yeah, I am, and I think you need to go to meet the investigating officer of four murders. He's gonna need to officially ask you some more questions. Do you think your colleagues might wonder about that?"

"Is that a threat?" he demanded.

"No, it's police protocol. Your questioning in a quadruple homicide investigation may even make the papers. I bet that will further your career." Deacon was playing it to the hilt.

Brooks sat back down. I peeked around Deacon and asked if there was anything more he'd like to say.

Deacon stepped back, and Brooks stared at the floor. He then looked up to me, meeting my gaze, and said, "Julia and I were having an affair about six months ago. We did meet at the symposium, and she sort of attached herself to me. She was staying at her summerhouse, and she would call me at my home, not even caring if my wife was there, and demand we see each other. She was crazy. You remember that movie 'Fatal Attraction'? God, it felt like that. Finally, the day she got the call about her father dying, she stopped bothering me. She went to Bad Axe to see him. After that I didn't hear from her again, until she called me about two days ago. She said she was in town and wanted to see me. I told her it was over, and she just laughed and said I was nothing to her and hung up. That's why you surprised me with your questions about her, Miss Wickens. I wasn't expecting you to know about her."

"Could also explain why you were included in the murder attempt today. That light bar would have gotten you, not just Penny." I was deducing.

"She wouldn't try to kill me, would she?" The panic was in his eyes now. "Damn that bitch!"

"Gee, Ben, sounds like you might want to cooperate with the police just to save your own neck." I kept at him.

He was silent for a long time. Buck came back to the door and signaled me to come out. I did.

"What'cha got?" I asked.

"Well, my friend Stryder said he knows Julia Waters real well. Seems most the boys in and around Lake Orion knows Julia, if you know what I mean." He grinned, handed me a paper with Waters' address, then asked, "How's Mr. Fancy Pants doing?"

"Well, he was also knowing her real well, too, and he confirmed that she's back in town." I looked into the room again. Brooks was sitting quietly on the couch, and Penny was watching me from her chair. I smiled at her. She waved her little finger at me.

"Think we need to take a ride up to Lake Orion?" Buck asked.

"Yeah, but I think we need to bring Trapper in on this with some reinforcements." I was being cautious.

"I'm also amazed that Brooks just happened to be on the show today, him being involved with Waters. Something more is going on. I'm calling Trapper in on this now," I said and took my phone out and went down the hall. Buck went into the dressing room.

I got hold of Trapper and briefed him on everything since I last talked to him about the attempt. He said he would see if he could get a search warrant for Waters' home. I gave him the address that Buck gave me. I asked him about Brooks. He said he would send a car to pick him up and take him into protective custody, which meant a warm cell for the night. Trapper said he would call when he got the warrant, knowing our little gang would just show up there anyway. He hung up again without a good-bye. I went back to the dressing room.

I told Brooks that I talked to the investigating officer, and he was sending protection for him. He thanked me and went quiet again. I took Penny by the hand and led her out into the hall.

"Penny, who sets up your guests for the show?" I asked.

"Davey Morgan is the person who schedules the guests. Why?" she replied.

I asked where we might find him. She took my hand, and we walked through the maze that Buck and I had run through earlier. We got to an office and went in. There was a girl sitting at a desk who stood when Penny and I walked in.

"Hi, Penny, glad you're all right." She beamed.

"Thanks, Joy, is Davey in? I need to ask him about today's guest."

"Yeah, that was strange. He set up this guy Brooks at the very last minute, bumping another guest, and then said he had to leave. Brooks came in, and I had to take him to the studio." She looked somewhat overwhelmed.

"So, when did you last see Davey today?" I asked.

"Not since early this morning. He left around 8:30 and didn't come back till after the big excitement in the studio, then left for the day. He said he wasn't feeling well."

I looked at Penny. "How well do you know this Davey?"

"He's been with us for about three months. He does good work."

I looked at Joy, gave her one of my website cards and asked her to call me if Davey came back again. She said she would. I took Penny out, and we went back to the dressing room. I told Buck about what we had just found out. I sat facing Penny.

"OK, earlier someone tried to drop a bunch of lights on you and Brooks. Buck and I chased an unknown person, and we lost him somewhere in the studio. Maybe he never left. This Davey schedules Brooks, gets him in here and then disappears until after the accident. We were watching for a stranger in our midst. We didn't look at people who belonged here." I was trying to work out the details.

Penny was quiet then looked sad. "Someone I had gotten to know tried to kill me. That is so bad."

I looked up to Buck. "I don't know the connection between Davey Morgan and Julia Waters, but Brooks being here today, next to Penny, is more than coincidence. Maybe Julia figured she could kill two birds with one stone. Bagging her cheerleader and her ungrateful lover. She and Davey must be in it together. Davey must have been the masked man in Penny's home, and Julia could have been the little old lady who slashed Sue."

My cell phone rang. It was Trapper telling me he found a cooperative judge and had a warrant. He had to call the Lake Orion police to get their help, just to make it official. I filled Trapper in on Davey Morgan and our theories. He asked me to get Morgan's address. I said I would and we would meet him at Waters' home. I'm sure he wanted to argue about it, but just said to not get in the way.

A short time later, a police car came to get Brooks, and he went off, not in a good mood. We piled into Buck's van and head out to I-75 North to Lake Orion. It would take a while, so we just listened to the radio playing crappy music and lots of commercials. Buck finally popped in a tape by Creedence Clearwater Revival, and we sang along to John Fogerty the best we could. I checked my map program on my Palm and gave Buck the directions to Waters' address as we neared Lake Orion.

We pulled into the long drive and up to what amounted to be a cabin. There were two police cars and one unmarked car in front of the building. Trapper was standing next to Becker out front with some big-bellied officer, talking. We pulled up, and Trapper came over to the van. "Well, it's the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew. Oh, and the Incredible Hulk." He looked at Deacon. "You can look around, but don't touch anything. The Lake Orion police Captain just got here, but so far no one is answering the door. They have a locksmith coming to open it up."

Buck smiled and said, "Be just as easy to bust the door window."

"Yeah, I agree, but the Captain doesn't want to piss off Waters. I think he may be dicking her, too." Trapper grinned.

We got out of the van and stood by. After a short while, a truck drove up, and the locksmith got out. He proceeded to open the front door, and the cops went in. Buck said he would stay outside and watch for attacking terrorists. I knew better. Penny and I wandered in, and I asked one of the officers if I could get some of his rubber gloves. He obliged. I gave a pair to Penny and pulled mine on.

Penny went up to the fireplace mantle and looked at the assorted pictures in frames. She picked one up as I came up beside her. It was a picture of a little girl about six standing next to a man and woman whom I presumed were Waters' parents. The man looked like Rocco. Penny stared at the picture till I took it from her and said not to dwell on the past. She kissed me on the cheek and went off into the kitchenette.

The cops were buzzing around, digging into closets, drawers, and cupboards. Becker called Trapper to the bedroom. I tagged along. He brought up a box from the closet and showed Trapper the contents. In all, Trapper discovered a rope for strangulation, a small bottle of strychnine poison, a mallet with blood on the head, and a straight razor.

"Most serial killers will take a souvenir of their victims. This one collects the murder weapons," I speculated. Trapper agreed.

"Becker, bag the evidence and call in CSU. We got a killer. Captain, if you have no problem with us taking over jurisdiction?" The Captain hesitated, but had to agree when he saw the contents of the box. He whistled and said he couldn't believe that Waters could be a killer. "Can you also put a call out to watch for Waters?" He went out to his car to radio dispatch and let his people know.

Deacon came in from another room, calling for Trapper. We went into a back bedroom. In the room there was a video camera on a tripod, aimed at a makeshift curtain. Deacon pointed to a VCR on a dresser, next to a television. Trapper found four tapes sitting on the dresser, each marked with the name of one of the cheerleaders. Wickens and Grolich were missing. Trapper put the tape marked "Carter" into the VCR and turned on the machine and the TV. The screen lit with Waters' face. She was sitting on a stool.

"I want to tell everyone about my father. He was a hard, mean man, but he had a good side. In 1967 he was a gym teacher, and six cheerleaders decided to make my father's life a living hell by accusing him of sexual misconduct. He didn't do it. My father was beaten by police, and fired from a job he loved. For years he couldn't find work, then he met my mother. She worked at a local church as a secretary, and managed to get him hired in as custodian. They married, and I came along shortly after. My father was miserable for most of my childhood. He drank too much and would often beat my mother if things weren't going right. But he had a decent side in that he did care, but only when he was sober. He even taught Sunday school. I was twelve when my mother finally had it and ran away. My father became distant from me. I left his house when I was old enough, and he couldn't stop me. The rest of my life is not important. I never knew about the accusations in 1967 until my father was on his deathbed. He and I talked about it and how it led him to be the way he was. He made me promise to avenge the life that he was forced into. He also made another confession. He had a son by the girl's gym teacher from the school that fired him, Alice Stone."

Penny was shocked and looked at me. I put an arm around her.

"He never knew until years later when Alice Stone finally tracked him down and told him. It was after I moved out, so I didn't know about him either, until my father lay dying. The years of hard drinking were killing him. He was diseased inside. He died painfully. Now you will meet the last living cheerleader giving her confession for this murder of my father. She will apologize for this crime and atone for it by dying on camera. A tribute to my father. Now, I present to you the last bitch, Sue Carter." The tape went blank.

"I guess she had one for each woman set up because she couldn't be sure who would be last to go. This woman is nuts," Trapper said quietly.

I said that two tapes were missing, the last two women who were still alive.

Trapper said, "She must have the tapes with her. I don't know why, unless she knew we were on to her and took them. Becker, bag and tag everything here." He walked out of the room. I guided Penny out. She was shaking a little.

Penny and I went out to tell Buck about the find. Trapper came over to us and pulled me aside.

"Listen, Richards, I just want to say, off the record, that I appreciate your help in this. Now, do you have the address for this Morgan guy?" he asked.

I gave him the paper with the address that Penny acquired for me. Trapper said Morgan was probably the half-brother she mentioned on the tape.

"That's my guess, too. She found him and dragged him into it," I said. "Penny called Joy in the booking office on our way up here, and Morgan hasn't returned. Joy said she called his apartment under the pretense to see how he was feeling and got no answer."

"Since this guy lives in my jurisdiction, it will make life easier to get a warrant, and these tapes will help. Don't go doing anything till then, you got that?" he warned. I agreed.

I figured that since the heat was on, both Waters and Morgan would be lying low for now. They still had Grolich to contend with if Waters wanted to continue her vendetta. And Penny. I went back to the van. Everyone was standing around, and I said we might as well head back. It was now after three, and there was nothing more to do here.

The ride back would take an hour, and I had to get my mind set for my nightly dad duty. I was going to take Penny with me this time, but use her car since Waters knew mine. I felt that Waters would probably back off to regroup. Besides, it would thrill Mom to meet Penny and get Penny away from her house for a while.

We drove back while trying to work out the time line of all that happened the last three days. Penny was quiet most of the trip back. We returned to Penny's house, and Deacon went in, followed by Buck, to make sure there were no uninvited guests. They signaled that it was clear, so Penny and I went in.

I jumped and yelled when something attached itself to my ankle. Everyone looked down at the cat that was straddling my ankle, and Deacon said, grinning, "You still have a problem with cats."

*

Chapter Thirteen

Penny pulled Shadow off my leg and scolded him. I glared at Deacon and said, "I love cats, and cats loved me."

He said, "Oh, I can tell by the way that cat was humping your leg."

I just snorted and followed Penny into the kitchen where she was opening a can of cat food. I went to pet Shadow, but every time I reached, the cat moved a couple of inches away. I gave up trying to pet him as he went over to feed. Penny laughed and said, "Don't worry, sweetie, you can pet me any time you'd like and I won't move away."

We had another hour before I had to go, so we sat on the porch and relaxed. Buck and Deacon were out wandering around the house, talking cars, I imagined. They both came in through the porch door a while later and sat with us. I told them I was taking Penny with me, so they could relax and watch TV or whatever. Buck said that he would probably run home to get a fresh change of clothes. I looked at Deacon and said he could just sit here and pet the cat. He used his middle finger to scratch his forehead. He said he would run home, too, and change. Buck smiled and said that Deacon was getting a bit ripe. Deacon scratched his forehead again for Buck. We all laughed.

Penny and I went to her car and left. On the way, I gave her the rundown on my mother.

I asked her not to mention the events of the last few days and explained my concern. She understood. We came up with a devious story of how we met and what we'd been up to.

We got to the house without trouble, but I was on the lookout for suspicious activity. I took Penny up to the house. My Mother threw the door open and welcomed us in, but mostly Penny. I just stood back as Mom gushed over her. She had us come into the kitchen and wanted us to visit. I said we had to do some errands, but maybe this weekend we could stop to visit for a while. She accepted that. She took Penny in to meet my dad. He acknowledged her, barely. Then I had Penny wait in the living room while I got him into bed. After that was done, Mom came out with me and talked for about ten minutes, then she said she had to get my dad comfy and tucked in. Penny gave my mom a hug and said we'd be back. Mom told her she watched her show almost every day. Penny smiled and said she'd give her a wave on her next show.

We left. I didn't feel like going back to her place yet, so I drove to a nearby park where we sat on a picnic table, watching kids play. She asked about my son, and I told her a little about him. She looked wistful and lamented about not being able to have children of her own. She had problems internally when she was young and had lost her ability to reproduce. I told her I would share my son with her. She smiled and got a little teary. I kissed the tears, and she put her head on my shoulder. We sat there for about a half hour more, then headed back.

Buck was already there, and Deacon drove in about ten minutes after us. Penny called the studio, but the staff had gone for the day since it was after 7 P.M. She did manage to track down Joy at home. Joy said that Morgan never came back, and that they had a nutritionist as guest tomorrow. Joy was concerned about Morgan, but said she would keep the guest roster up and running. Penny thanked her and hung up.

I was sitting with the A-Team in the family room when she came back in. She had found the cat along the way and brought him over to me on the couch. Shadow moved over to my lap, made a circle then plopped down. I smiled at Deacon.

"See, cats do like me," I said with a smirk, just as Shadow started to claw at my leg. I winced in pain. Penny picked him up and laughed. I grinned. "OK, they like me too much. Now I'm a scratching pole."

The rest of the evening was uneventful. We sat, talked, watched TV, and by 11, Penny's head was drooping. I laid her out on the couch and got a blanket to cover her. Sleepily, she grabbed my hand and kissed it, saying, "Good night, sweet prince, sex later," and drifted off. Buck and Deacon were turning on lights and checking around the house. All seemed quiet, so we settled in for the night.

~~*~~

Twelve miles to the southwest, Linda Grolich sat at a desk typing on the laptop that the Bloomfield police allowed her to bring to the safe house. She was busy sending out emails to her friends and family saying she was taking a short vacation, location unknown, as she wanted privacy. She had a detail of three police detectives who sat around the apartment playing cards. Linda was not happy with the arrangements, but she saw the video that Waters had made when Trapper stopped by around 9 P.M. and played it for her and the detectives. It made her think again about protection.

She did some exploring on the internet for Julia Waters and couldn't believe the prestigious lawyer would stoop to murder for something that happened over forty years ago. She underestimated Waters and her deathbed promise. Linda hadn't changed in all those years. She still was arrogant and above everyone else, but this brought her down a bit.

She told the detectives that she was going to take a shower and turn in. They couldn't watch her in the shower, but told her to keep the door open a bit so they could hear anything that wasn't right. She agreed, but closed the door anyway. She showered and pampered her body with lotions and creams to keep her good looks. She dressed in her nicest silk pajamas and headed to her bed. She lay down on the aging bed in the safe house, probably used by criminals, she thought, and shivered. After a half hour of counting her blessings and good fortunes, she finally dozed. In the dark of the room, the closet door opened slowly, and a dark figure crept out.

The knife in the hand of the figure poised over her heart as the other hand picked up a towel from the chair next to the bed and quickly covered her face and mouth. The murderer plunged the knife into Linda's chest, through her ribs and into her beating heart. She struggled for only a moment, and then went still, heart beating no more. The figure went over to the window, opened it and crawled back out to the rope ladder that was attached to the roof. The figure climbed up and over, pulling the ladder up, then exited through a stairwell and back down to the rear entrance of a service room. Out by a waiting car in the alley, Julia Waters opened the door for her dear half-brother, Davey. He just said, "It's done, one to go."

~~*~~

The next morning, we all stumbled around getting ready to go to the station. We ate a hurried breakfast, and scooted out the door. We piled into Buck's van and headed to the TV station. We got to the gate, and the guard recognized Buck and me from the cigarette smoking incident. He gave a grim little smile and passed us through. We entered Penny's dressing room, and the groupies all hustled to make her happy. The hairdresser still flirted with Deacon who now wasn't turning red. I think he was enjoying the attention. The floor manager brought Penny her guest sheets and said they hadn't located Morgan, but they would watch out for him. Word travels fast.

Penny looked radiant as she stepped up to the stage and met with Dr. Cheryl Stopelmoor, the health and beauty consultant that came in at the last minute when the nutritionist canceled. I asked John, the floor manager, if this woman was checked out and he said she had been on the show a couple of times before, so she was good. I relaxed, and Buck took point on the same stool he was on yesterday. Deacon was back stage again and made a point of having the stage crew check and re-check the lighting rigs. He asked a couple of the men to stay there and yell if anyone popped up who didn't belong. They kept a man up there.

The show started, and Buck and I carefully watched every movement in the room. Penny interviewed the guest, who must have used the beauty products on herself, as she was as stunning as Penny. Penny opened up the segment for questions from the audience. It went well. Penny thanked her guest, gave a shout out to my mother, "Hi to Mrs. Richards," waved, and the end credits rolled. The guest politely left, and Penny came to me and grabbed on.

She whispered in my ear, "I was so frightened something would happen. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

I hugged her tight, to the point of making my ribs scream, and said "I'm here for you. So are Buck and Deacon. My mother will cast you in bronze for the greeting." That made her smile, and we went to the dressing room. We had just settled in when my cell phone rang. Caller ID said private number. I said, "Hello Trapper."

"Richards, bad news, Grolich is dead."

My heart stopped for a second. I turned away from Penny and asked what happened. He said, "Someone got in and stabbed her through the heart. Three cops didn't hear or see a goddamn thing. They were playing cards in the living room, Grolich went to bed, and this morning she didn't come out. They went in, found her. Six stories up, and only one door into the apartment. Fucking amazing. They found signs of movement on the roof. They think he came down from the roof, into the window, and back out the same way. I really put my butt in a sling spouting off at the chief. He blamed the Bloomfield cops. Asshole. I still can't get any extra men for Wickens. I can't figure how they knew where the safe house was."

"Waters is a lawyer. She may have used her connections to find out," I suggested. Trapper agreed, said he'd check it out and hung up.

Buck came down the hall. I stopped him at the door of the dressing room, pushing him back out into the hall. I told him about Grolich. He cursed loudly.

"You gonna tell Penny?" he asked.

"She deserves it. She is the last one left," I said.

Buck thought a minute and said, "Well, they won't kill her right away. Waters wants her on video, remember?"

I looked at him for a second, then said, "That's hardly cause to celebrate."

I had the same thought, but how would they get her on tape now? Kidnapping would be the only option. I related my thoughts to Buck. He agreed.

"We have to button her down so tight, no one will get near her," I said.

We went back into the room. I asked all the groupies to leave. It was just the three of us. I sat next to Penny and held her hand.

"I got something to tell you," I started.

She interrupted, "Linda is dead." I nodded.

A choke caught in her throat. She took a breath and started to hyper-ventilate. There was a bag of bagels on the desk. I dumped them and had her breathe into the bag. After a few moments, she calmed.

"What happened?" she asked.

I told her what Trapper said. She looked to me with tears in her eyes.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?" she cried.

"Like hell you are! We aren't going to let anything happen to you," I promised.

Buck spit out, "These bastards will have to deal with me before I let them hurt you!"

She started rocking back and forth, hugging herself, crying. I grabbed her and pulled her to me.

Buck went to the restroom, got a glass of water, and brought it to her. She drank it between sobs.

Deacon came to the door. He'd been out making sure the audience left. He stopped as Buck moved him back into the hall and told him about Grolich. He was stunned.

"So that means Penny is the last," Deacon said.

Buck replied, "Yeah, and we can't get any more protection from the cops."

Deacon took offense and said, "Don't put this on us. I'm a cop, yeah, but right now, I would lay down my life for her. Politics is the fucker, not the cops."

"I'm sorry, I'm just pissed right now," Buck said.

"It's okay, I understand. What do we do now?"

Penny and I came out of the room. "You guys could be a little quieter. Let's get Penny out of here. We need to think of somewhere else to take her besides her home."

Buck beamed. "She can stay at my place for now. Waters has no idea where I live."

"Staying at your place is almost a death sentence." I smiled. "But I think it's a good idea."

I looked to Penny and said, "We need to tell your people that they will have to deal with Phil a bit longer. You are going into seclusion."

Penny talked to her producer. He understood. We took our leave and headed out. Penny said she needed to stop at her place for essentials and the cat. Deacon grinned and said that I could hold the cat on the way to Buck's. I stuck my tongue out. We all took our guns from under the seats and slipped them into our belts.

We arrived at Penny's place around noon. She gathered what she needed and put the cat in a kitty carrier. I was thankful for that.

While still at Penny's, I called my brother and asked him to help get Dad to bed. He said he would. I told him to give my apologies to mom, and I'd explain later.

We piled back into the van and headed out I-94 to New Baltimore and finally into Buck's drive. Deacon followed us in his patrol car. Buck's house was fairly secluded, back off M-29, the main road into town.

I said, "OK, no one tells anyone where Penny is. Understood? Not even Trapper. Anybody's phone could be tapped, or someone slips the info, and the cover is blown. If anybody asks, we don't know where she is. Understood?"

Everyone agreed. We got Penny into the spare bedroom in the back of Buck's modest little home.

The house was small but livable. While Penny was setting up her new room, Buck was on the phone. I couldn't hear him, but he was grinning that walrus smile. Buck then started to clean up his living room, and Penny went to help. Buck apologized for the mess. Penny pulled him down and kissed him on his bald head. She said it was her home for now. He stuck his tongue out at me and said that she kisses him, too.

About an hour later, there was such a roar out front I thought we were under attack from nearby Selfridge Air National Guard Base. Deacon and I went to the front window and saw about eight motorcycles and three hot rods roaring onto the huge front lawn.

Buck grinned and said, "My own personal army."

*

Chapter Fourteen

We went out, and Buck started greeting his buddies and their women. They all gave Deacon the eye as the huge cop came forward. Buck went over to Deacon and threw his arm around the big man, saying that Deacon was a brother to us now. Respect that, he demanded. They all came over to greet Deacon, and then Buck introduced Penny and me. He asked everyone to sit out on the front porch and lawn, then related the story of the last three days. Everyone sat in awe of the tale of murder and mayhem and looked to Penny every so often with respect. Penny was in awe of the gathering on the lawn, her new protectors.

Deacon leaned over to me and said, "This is far better than police protection." He grinned. I had to agree.

The tale was told, they agreed to help, and the group started pulling out tents and other camping equipment from the cars. It looked like Woodstock after a while. Someone cranked up a boom box and had Cream blasting out, "Sunshine of Your Love." Talk about flashbacks. They had Penny sitting on a lawn chair in the middle of it all, treating her like a princess. One biker came over and said, with reverence, that he watched her show every day. She suppressed a giggle and then signed the biker's helmet when he held it and a magic marker out to her. He was in heaven now. So was Penny.

I stayed back, letting her enjoy the moment and forget the horror of it all. She would look around to me every so often, then finally got up and came to me.

"Days ago, you were just a forty year teenage crush for me. Now you are my savior, and with Buck and Deacon, my super heroes."

I said, "I hope you don't love me for just being a savior. I hope there's more to it."

She hugged me tight and said, "You better believe it, stud."

One of the women, a girl about half of Penny's age, broke off from her group and came over to Penny. "Excuse me, but we were wondering if you could talk to us about all the celebrities you've interviewed? I want to hear about Hugh Jackman. I saw the show he was on." She beamed.

Penny looked to me, smiled, then said to the woman she'd be delighted. They went off, and Penny was given a lawn chair as the group of women and a few men gathered at her feet.

Buck came over. "Looks like Penny's got some new friends."

"Buck, you've been a real good friend to me, but this tops it all. Thank you so much." I gave him a hug. He looked a little surprised, then smiled and patted me on the back.

"My pleasure, man. So, you and I are free now to really do some investigating."

I said with a sigh, "I now feel safe leaving Penny alone. Yes, we are going to have to do something about this." I looked to Deacon and said, "We should go and have a war counsel."

Buck, Deacon, and I went around the back of the house where it was private, sat on the porch steps, and talked.

"OK, we know that Waters' house has been discovered, so she will not be going back there. Morgan's apartment will be looked at when Trapper gets the warrant. So where would they hide out now?" I inquired.

"Motel?" Buck offered.

"Is Morgan from around here, I mean does he have any relatives?" Deacon asked.

I said I didn't know, excused myself, and went to interrupt Penny where she sat talking to the wide-eyed group. I asked her if she knew where Morgan was from. She thought a bit, then said he once mentioned he came from the Midwest, but no particular place. I went back to Buck and Deacon. I said I thought we should go to Morgan's apartment to check it out. We went back around front. Buck said he put his friend Luther in charge of the compound, as he now called it. We went to Luther and told him we were leaving for a while, and not to let anyone on the property they didn't know. He said, "No fear, man. The lady will be safe with us."

I went to tell Penny we would be back. She kissed me from the chair and went back to her stories. This time, we took Deacon's patrol car. It looked more official, even if it wasn't authorized. I told Buck to sit in the back so he would feel at home. He grunted, but did so and we headed out. I checked the address of Morgan's apartment on my Palm and got the location. It was in the north end of Clinton Township, not too long of a trip.

We got there and went to the manager's office to ask about Morgan.

The lady inside said, "The police have already been here, and I told them I hadn't seen Morgan today. They had a warrant and looked through the apartment, then left." She looked at Deacon and assumed we were cops too, so I played it up.

"We just need to know a few more details. Did Morgan put any references on his rental application?" I asked, like a cop.

She still had his file on the desk from the earlier police visit. She opened it and read off a couple of names. I asked her if she could write the names and addresses on a paper. She did so. I also asked if we could get into the apartment under the previous warrant. She took the keys from her desk and handed them to me. I handed them to Deacon to make it official. She gave me the paper, and I thanked her, telling her we would return the keys.

We entered the apartment and started our search. We had no rubber gloves, so carefully handled things. I found his desk and went through the bills and letters scattered there. I hit the replay button on his answering machine and listened—just a couple of guys calling about bar hopping Saturday night. One of the messages was a female voice saying, "You know who, call me." It sounded like Waters' voice. I was trying to recall her speaking on the VHS tape, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe I'd get the chance to watch it again.

As I was pulling open drawers on the desk, there was a banging on the door. Buck and Deacon came in the living room, and I signaled them to get back a little. I went to the door and could hear a voice yelling, "Open up, Davey. It's Mick." I looked through the peephole and saw a rather small, young guy with his hat on sideways. I hated that.

I opened the door and said, "Hey, Mick, how's it going? Come on in."

Mick paused for a minute and asked where Davey was. I said, "On the crapper. Come on in."

He smiled and strutted in. I closed the door, and Buck and Deacon came around the corner. He saw Deacon's uniform and turned to go out, but I blocked him. He raised a fist to hit me, but Deacon grabbed it and swung him around.

"That's attempted assault, slimeball. I guess I'll have to run you in." Deacon twisted the kid's arm around to his back and slapped a cuff on it.

"Whoa, whoa, Officer Deacon. Let's see what this fine young man needs before we incarcerate him," I said, acting the part. "Just what is it you want with Davey?"

The kid looked scared, but defiant. "I ain't talking to no pigs."

"Wow, double negative. You are a genius. Maybe you'd like a night in a cold cell with some big biker. You like that idea?"

Buck stepped around, grabbed the boy's mouth and squeezed it, saying, "Yeah, my buddies would like his lips."

I wanted to laugh, but held it when the kid's eyes went big. I could see a dark stain growing around his crotch.

"OK, Slasher, let the boy be. Now, let's try this again. What do you want from Davey?" I asked as Buck released his grip.

"OK, OK. I came to see if he still needed my van for tomorrow night. That's all. Really!"

I wondered why Davey would need a van. For kidnapping, maybe?

"Since he's not here, do you know where else he hangs?" Deacon asked.

"He sometimes hangs out with his loony sister up in Lake Orion. But they aren't staying there now. Davey says it's infested with cockroaches and needs fumigating. I don't know where else he'd be. Maybe his mom's house."

That caught our attention. "Where does his mom live?"

Mick paused, looking like he was having a bad gas attack, then said, "Somewhere out in Chesterfield. I don't know exactly."

Buck was a bit surprised. Chesterfield was just down the road from his house.

"Is Alice Stone his mother?" Deacon asked.

"Her last name is Morgan, that's all I know."

"Anything else you want to say? What about Davey using your van? What for?" I grilled him good, right up in his face.

"He said he had to pick up some package and needed the room in the van. That's all, honest."

I nodded to Deacon, and he removed the cuff.

"I think you should disappear for a while, Mick. Stay away from Davey, if you know what's good for you. We're looking at him for murder. You want to be a part of that?" I pushed.

Mick's eyes grew again, and he said he wouldn't go anywhere near Davey.

I opened the door, and he shot out. We all laughed. Deacon said I did a good job and that he loved Buck's 'Slasher' role.

"I think I like this investigating." I smiled. I thought about something I had read that the immortal Travis McGee once said: "Don't get hooked on the feeling, investigating can be a disease."

We locked up, took the keys back, and went to find a phone book.

We found one at a convenience store on the way back up Gratiot Avenue. The highway ran through Chesterfield, which had many big chain stores, banks, bars and a few subdivisions. We found, amazingly, two Alice Morgans in the book. I also checked under Alice Stone, but found nothing. We took the first Alice and ran by her home. The thing about subdivisions that bugged me was the conformity and similarity of the houses. We arrived at the house and got out of the patrol car. People near the house were watching us as we plodded to the front door.

We rang the bell, and after a minute or two, a young woman of about thirty answered. I had placed Deacon up front to add to the air of legitimacy. I stepped forward and asked for Alice Morgan. She looked a little worried and said she was Alice. I apologized for the intrusion and asked if she knew of an Alice Stone. She got a contemplative look on her face, then suddenly her eyes lit up.

"You mean my aunt. Her name is Alice, also," she said. "She married my uncle a few years ago, and we used to laugh about having two 'Alices' so close in the family."

"Great. Does she have a son named Davey?" I asked.

"Yes, she does. What is this about, if I may ask?" she inquired.

"We are investigating a crime and need to speak to your aunt," I said.

"I wish I could tell you where she was, but she disappeared about three weeks ago. We and the police have no idea where she is," she said sadly. "They think there was foul play. My uncle thinks her son did her in, but it's all speculation. Things got weird when Davey's half-sister came into town."

I looked to Buck and Deacon, and then said to her, "Do you mean Julia Waters?"

"I think that was her name. She came into their lives, and the trouble began."

"What do you mean, trouble?"

"Well, from what my Uncle Bob said, Alice thought the Waters woman was a bad influence on Davey. They were hanging together way too much, out at bars and drinking, and there were hints of sexual contact between the two. My God, brother and sister, that's not normal. My Aunt told her she should go away, but Uncle Bob said she kept calling Davey and wanting to see him," Alice related. "Davey finally got tired of what he called their 'interference' and got an apartment."

I said quietly to Buck and Deacon, "Julia was priming Davey for the murders." I turned back to Alice and asked, "Do you know where Davey and Julia may be staying? We can't locate them."

"I don't have any idea, maybe at his apartment. I never liked Davey much. He was creepy acting. I don't even know who his friends are. I doubt my uncle would, either. If it weren't for my uncle, Davey would be staying at the house. It was Alice's home when she and my uncle married. He moved in with her. Davey and my uncle didn't get along too well, and Davey got his own apartment after his mother disappeared. This will sound morbid, but if anything happens to my uncle, I'm sure Davey would take over the house. I've warned him to watch out for Davey."

I thought that Davey was too busy killing cheerleaders to bother with his stepfather. I thanked her, and Deacon gave her one of his cards in case she heard anything about Davey. We left and headed to Aunt Alice's, to talk to her husband.

It was a nice house on a well-spaced street. The yard was well groomed, and a man was out trimming hedges. We pulled into the drive, and he just stared. He looked to be in his seventies and came towards us as we got out of the patrol car, asking if we heard anything about Alice. I explained that we were on another case and didn't know about his wife's disappearance until we talked to his niece. He looked sad and asked what we needed. I asked him about Davey.

"He's evil, that's all I'll say. Him and his slut of a sister. You cops should arrest them for incestuous fornication. My dear Alice is missing, and I think the two of them know what happened." I could see his eyes welling up. He took a handkerchief out of a back pocket and wiped the tears. Then he blew his nose with it.

"We were just wondering if you may know where they would be staying." I queried.

"I have no idea and don't care as long as they stay the hell away from me," he barked out angrily.

I didn't think we'd get anything more from him. We gave our sympathies and took our leave. Back in the car, I looked at the addresses of the references from the apartment manager then looked at my watch. It was about 4 P.M., and we hadn't accomplished much in finding our prey. Some good leads, but nothing concrete.

We decided to stop for the day and headed back. The ride was quiet, each of us in our own thoughts. When we arrived, there was no one in the yard. I got a little panicky, jumped out of the car when it came to a stop and ran to the house. I was amazed to find about twenty people all crammed into the living room watching Penny's show that was recorded earlier. Penny saw me and came over, giving me a kiss and grinning. Buck and Deacon came in behind me, saw what was going on and joined the group to watch the show. Buck said to Penny that it was interesting to see the finished product and was thrilled when he saw a shot of himself on the screen. Everyone screamed and yelled whenever the camera caught a glimpse of him. Deacon said next time he would sit out front.

Penny laughed and whispered in my ear, "I have my first fan club. Luther is the president, and some girl called Mouse is the vice president. While I'm gone, the station is going to be running old shows. I guess they didn't want Phil doing the show. Any luck with whatever you went off to do?"

I took her out to sit on the porch and told her of our adventures. She said. "I can't believe all that about Davey. He seemed so nice."

I said, "You can't trust anyone nowadays. Except me." She looked happy and contented, and I put my arm around her as we sat there taking in the sunshine.

*

Chapter Fifteen

I called my Mother and explained that Penny had invited me to visit with her family for a reunion, and I had called my brother to fill in for me for a few days. She was thrilled that Penny said hi to her on the show. I told her since we were going to be out of town, they would be running past shows. She said to say hi to Penny, and then we hung up. I relayed the message to Penny, and we got up when everyone piled out of the house. People were chattering to her about the show and the guest, especially the women, who were interested in the beauty products. I had to back off before I was swept up in all the estrogen.

I went to Buck and Luther. They were standing in the yard talking, and Luther held his hand out to shake mine. I took his hand.

"That's some woman you got there, real classy and smart," he drawled. Were all the people I came in contact lately from the south, I wondered.

"Thanks, I think I'll keep her." I grinned.

Buck piped up. "Yeah, but she'll get smart and drop you for me," he laughed. "Luther and I were just discussing our plans for guarding my fortress tonight. Penny should sleep well with us on duty."

"So will I," I said under my breath. To them I said, "I don't think we should have any problems from the crazy siblings unless they followed us here from the studio. No way they could know where we are."

Buck concurred but said, "Let's not get careless, though. Remember, they found the safe house where Grolich was being guarded." I agreed.

Penny had finished with her admirers, and they wandered off to start foraging for food. She came to me, excused us from Buck and Luther and pulled me toward the house. She took me into her new bedroom and pushed me back on the bed. I humorously protested, but not for long.

"We're not going to do it," she whispered breathlessly, "not with my fan club so close. I just want a little lip action to remind me why I like you." She bit my lower lip gently and pulled. I moved in for the kill, and we rolled around for about twenty minutes. We rested, and then she dozed off on me. I didn't know whether to be insulted or cuddle my poor, tired little girl. I took the latter.

After a bit, I slid my arm from under her and went out to the front lawn again. I asked the nearest person where Buck was. She said he and Luther went to get pizza. I was a bit ashamed I wasn't there to help, but knowing Buck, he wouldn't care. Besides, he was the one still employed. I was near broke. The two of them drove back in from New Baltimore with a pile of pizza boxes, enough to feed the army camped out on the lawn.

Everyone was whooping and hollering so loud it must have woken Penny. She came out. Buck handed her a beer and a paper plate with a couple slices of pizza and accepted the kiss on the cheek she gave him. He smirked at me. I grabbed some pizza and some beer and plopped down next to Penny. After a while, everyone had their fill, and they started a bonfire in the fire pit Buck had built in the front yard, just as the sun was sinking.

I took a blanket off a chair from the back porch and spread it out for Penny and me. We sat by the fire, dreaming. I kissed her cheek, and she put her head on my shoulder and sighed, "Could this get any better?" I didn't think so, but I would try to see if we could top it.

Deacon had pulled his patrol car across the front drive out by the road, to discourage any bad guys or local cops snooping around at a party of bikers. Besides, we were fairly secluded as the neighbors were spread far apart, so we weren't going to bother anyone.

Around midnight, most people had drifted off to their tents or fallen asleep on chaise lounges or blankets. Penny and I got up. She kissed Buck on the top of his head while he was trying to do a yoga mediation position on the ground. We said goodnight, grabbed a couple of beers and toddled off to the back bedroom.

In the near dark of the room, the only light coming in was through the thin curtains from the floodlights in the back yard. We stood facing each other. She kissed my cheek, and I kissed hers, then she kissed my neck, and I kissed hers. We cuddled on the bed and took our time pleasuring each other until our sweaty bodies could take no more. We lay in silence afterwards, and Penny fell asleep. I lay back, popped open a beer and was thankful for such a woman. Who said old folks couldn't have a sex life?

I think I finally drifted off around 2 A.M., the last time I looked at the clock. I woke in the morning and reached over to Penny. She wasn't there. I pulled on my clothes and went out to see what was going on as it was deathly quiet. Penny and Buck were sitting at his small dining table, having coffee and donuts.

Buck asked if I wanted some, and I told him what I thought about coffee. He took it as a no. I bent down to Penny, gave her a smooch, sat next to her, and grabbed a donut. I saw Deacon was passed out on the couch, his feet hanging off the end. I asked if everyone else was still sleeping. Looking at the clock in the kitchen, I saw it was 7:40 A.M., a time I'm not usually up by.

"Yeah, most of these people don't open their eyes till around noon." Buck yawned.

That caused Penny to yawn widely. I stuck my finger in her mouth, and she bit it. I pulled back, yelling, "Hey, not nice."

"Well, sticking your finger in my mouth isn't, either" She grinned then leaned over to say in my ear, "I remember things you did with that finger last night, sailor."

I smiled sheepishly and changed the subject. "I'm going to call Trapper at a decent hour and fill him in on our findings. Maybe he has some news for us, like both Waters and Morgan were killed in a shootout with the law," I said hopefully.

Buck laughed. "I have a feeling those two will be a little harder to catch."

"Maybe you can talk them to death in their sleep." The voice came from Deacon on the couch. "I know it's killing me, listening to you while I'm trying to sleep."

Buck threw a donut at Deacon. It landed on his neck. He picked it up and started eating it.

"See, you put a donut in front of a cop, and they shove it in their mouth," Buck roared.

Deacon pulled his service revolver out of its holster, held it up in the air, and yelled, "Say that one more time, scumbucket!"

Penny piped up, "Now boys, stop fighting or I won't have sex with either one of you."

Buck's eyes went wide, and Deacon sat up on the couch in a flash. She laughed out loud.

They couldn't top that, so we sat in silence for a while as Penny grinned and giggled.

Around 11 A.M. everyone was up and straightening the mess they made last night. Luther was supervising, making sure the yard was as clean as they found it. Deacon, Buck, and I were looking over the list of references the apartment manager gave me, trying to decide how we wanted to handle it.

To take a line from Buck's philosophy, I said, "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead". I told Penny we were heading out again. She gave me a kiss and subtly brushed my crotch, telling me to make sure to protect myself. I just stared at her as she ran off, laughing. I was getting hard, covering myself with the file folder I got to keep our papers in. I would get back at her.

We rode in Deacon's patrol car down to Roseville, the first address from the reference list. It was a bust. The address was a bump and paint shop, and the person named wasn't there. The manager said he had no idea who we were talking about when we mentioned Morgan. We left. The second address in Fraser was also a bust. It was a Dollar Tree store. We had to ask anyway, in case Morgan worked there. They said he hadn't, didn't know him. Our boy was playing fast and loose with references. Shows no one checks them.

We sat in the patrol car feeling annoyed. I pulled out my Palm cell phone and dialed the next reference. It was a massage parlor. I laughed and said he was stroking everyone. I dialed the next on the list, back in Clinton Township, and a woman answered. It sounded like Waters. I couldn't be sure, but I had the tingle. You know the tingle. It comes through intuition and paying attention. It sure sounded like her on the phone, almost exactly like Waters sounded on the tape. I waved at Deacon and pointed to the address on the list, signaled him to go. He did.

"May I speak to Davey?" She paused a long time and then asked who this was.

"I'm a friend of Mick's. He said he was having trouble with his van and couldn't let Davey use it, but asked me if I could let him use mine. I don't like loaning out my wheels to just any one, but Mick vouched for Davey." I was working off the top of my head.

She paused again, then said, "Davey isn't here right now, and your number doesn't come up on my caller ID. Give it to me, and I'll have him call you."

I had three cell phones. Don't ask why. I gave her the least used one and said I would be at that number later in the day. She paused for a moment, hopefully writing down the number, then said she'd give it to him and hung up. I told my team about the call.

Deacon asked, "Why she didn't wonder where we got her number?" It was a good question. I had a feeling she might be suspicious now.

I called Trapper and hurriedly explained what was going on. I gave him the address, and he said to not do anything until he got there. He also said he'd shoot me in the balls if we did.

We found the house, parked down the street, and waited for about 10 minutes before three Township patrol cars came roaring in followed by Trapper and Becker in their unmarked car. We got out and followed everyone up to the house. The police covered the front and back of the house, and Trapper banged on the front door, yelling the usual police line, "Open up, it's the police." There was no response. He called again. Nothing. So they took a battering ram to the door and stormed in. The police scoured through the house, yelling "clear" in each room. They found no one in the house.

Buck had stayed by the car. Deacon and I went back to the car and waited for Trapper. He stormed over and said, "The bitch left. The coffee is still warm, the TV still on, cigarette in the ashtray, but she's gone."

I didn't know if he would yell at us, but he just looked at our ragtag little group and said she was on the run. Then he strode off. I was shocked that we wouldn't hear a blast from him. Deacon whispered, "Damn."

The cops inquired at the neighbors' as to the type of car Julia might be driving. They got a fairly decent description, put out an APB and searched the house.

I asked Deacon to check with the other cops to find out what kind of car Waters fled in. Trapper waved me over to him and said, "I appreciate the heads up on the killers, but I'm warning you not to get too close. I don't want to have to scrape you up off the pavement."

I said he'd be the first to know about anything we found. He was called to the house and left me standing alone. Deacon and Buck came over. The big cop said the car was identified as a Blue Dodge Charger, about 2004 or 2005. I said the black Bonneville must belong to Morgan, or he borrowed it.

A car pulled up to the house as we stood there. A man of about forty got out and asked us what the hell was going on. Deacon asked who he was.

The man said, "I own this house. I got a call from a neighbor, friend of mine, saying the cops were crawling all over the place. Is the renter in trouble?" The man was evidently the landlord.

I walked to him and asked, "Who is the renter?"

He said, "I rented it to a man named John Stafford."

I pulled the list of references out, and the name was on the list. At least Morgan had one real friend on the list.

I pointed out Trapper to the man and told him he was in charge. The man hustled off. We heard a lot of commotion from the back yard and went there. There was a lot of yelling from the cops. They had discovered a body in the garage under some tarps. Trapper brought the landlord over, and he identified the body as that of John Stafford. Well, so much for staying with friends, I mused.

I looked at my partners and said, "They are now no longer just killing cheerleaders." That worried me.

Buck said, "Could be Stafford was getting too nosy as to their intentions so they took him out."

We got back in Deacon's patrol car and left before anyone questioned why we were using it for unauthorized purposes. We drove to a nearby restaurant to get some lunch.

"Well, we now know they're still in the area, and we have eliminated every place they can stay so far," I said.

Buck added, "Not to mention, they have to leave their possessions every time they get chased out."

Deacon swallowed a big bite of sandwich and said, "They either have a big stash of cash or they're using credit cards."

"Since Waters' father died, maybe she came into some inheritance," I speculated. "Deacon, can you sneak around and find out if there has been anyone checking on credit cards?" He agreed to make a few calls.

We ate in silence, then paid and went back to the car. We sat there wondering what to do next. I said there was one more name on the reference list, but there hadn't been time for them to get there, so it would be a waste of time to follow it up at the moment. We decided to go back to Buck's place and wait it out.

*

Chapter Sixteen

We got back to Buck's place around 3 P.M., I found Penny relaxing on a chaise lounge in the backyard, taking in the sun. There were other females in various stages of undress spread out on towels and blankets around the yard. I tried not to look. Penny wore a skimpy green tank top, shorts, and flip-flops and looked delicious. I wanted to bite her all over. She took my hand as I came up and yanked me down to kiss me, then warned me about looking at the half-naked women. I pulled over another lawn chair and sat, relating the details of our journey and admired her great looking legs. I think Penny would give Tina Turner a run for her money as far as legs go.

"I'm sure Waters is really pissed by now. She's going to want to get back at you if she finds you were behind her having to move so many times," she said with a touch of worry in her voice.

"Screw her! She brought this on herself with her misguided loyalties. How fast she forgot the crap her father put her and her mother through." I was pissed about it.

"In the years I've interviewed people, I've concluded that we're guided by emotion and not logic. Most people are gullible. I see it all the time. I'm sure Daddy Dear died a horrible death, and the cheerleaders are to blame. Boohoo. He was a drunk and mean before we did what we did. But she got sucked into his death bed confession." She looked angry.

It was the first time she spoke of the incident. Maybe she was willing to get over it now. Plus, seeing how Julia Waters turned out, she had no sympathy for the woman. I didn't either.

"Yeah, she's risking a great career as a lawyer and advocate for abused women to commit multiple murders and will most likely end up on death row. Stupid." I shook my head.

"What are you going to do now?" she wondered.

"Well, we decided it was a waste of time tracking her, so we are going to sit back and wait. Waters can't finish her vendetta without you, so you're the bait."

She looked a bit startled by that comment. "I'm not real keen on putting my body out like a minnow. What if she bites, and you lose her. I'm dead?"

"We have enough fire power between the weapons Buck and I have, and I've seen the arsenal the bikers are hiding. They get started on her, they'll need a big scoop to scrape up all the parts." I grinned. She didn't. "Really, stop worrying. We aren't going to let anything happen to you."

"You better not, or you'll never get any more sex from me," she threatened.

"I thought of that. You are the only woman who'd put up with rolling in the hay with me."

"Remember that, sweetie. Oh, and don't forget Morgan. Waters may be the driving force, but it's been Davey doing most of the killings."

That was something I thought I'd let go for now. One killer was bad enough, two killers was big trouble.

Buck came around the house, eyed the sunbathers, stopped in his tracks and said, "Whoa, sea of flesh. I like." His walrus smile spread around his face.

"Quit drooling, Buck, it doesn't make you look good." Penny laughed.

I asked, "What's up?"

"Need you up front, man. We're plotting strategy." He took one more lingering look around the yard. I pushed him towards the front. He said, "OK, OK, I'm going."

Deacon and Luther were sitting on the porch as Buck and I came around. We grabbed lawn chairs and sat facing them.

Deacon spoke first. "I was listening to the police bands and heard they were chasing Waters up I-94, but lost her when she ran a couple of cars and a semi-truck into a big tie-up on the freeway. Cops had to stop, she kept going."

"Damn," I huffed out. "No mention of her brother?"

"They said she was alone in the car."

I wondered what she was up to.

We sat and decided how to divide up the watch for the night. We had enough men to cover the entire night, once an hour, so we made a roster. Luther called his men over and told them what the schedule would be. Everyone agreed.

Deacon told all of them that he had a duty as a cop to object to any weapons they might have, so he said he just wouldn't look. He smiled and then said, "Make sure you hit what you're aiming for and not me." The men cheered.

After everyone went off, the four of us were talking when this short biker came over. "Hey, Luther, you said to be on the lookout for anything strange. Well, I'm almost sure there's some guy in the woods watching us."

Luther introduced Deacon and me to Boon, then asked which side of the yard and how long ago.

Boon carefully pointed to the right and said about five minutes ago. We thanked him and said for him to just stroll off as though nothing was going on. He did. We ambled down the drive, and Buck and Luther went out to the road and down towards the side property.

Deacon and I walked over to the edge of the property. We both had our hands on our weapons. Buck and Luther ran into the woods, and we did the same when we saw them break for it. Guns held out, we combed the area but found nothing. Then we found a spot covered with cigarette butts and a couple of candy wrappers.

There was good cover from Buck's property, a good spot to watch from. From the next lot over, we heard a car start. We ran in that direction. A black car sped from a beaten down trail off the main road. Buck said it was a black Bonneville.

"Damn, how did he find us?" I screamed. "Someone is telling them! Has to be!"

"Jimmy, no one knew we were here. Other than our own group, but I can vouch for every one of them," Buck defended.

"Yeah, well, Davey was just here. Explain that."

Luther looked surprised. "Davey? Is this guy's name Davey Morgan?"

We had never mentioned his name before, just referred to him as 'her brother' and mostly talked about Julia. I said, "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Son of a bitch!" Luther spit, then went back to the yard. He broke out of the woods, yelling, "Cindy! Cindy Stewart! Where the fuck are you!" Cindy was lying out in the backyard when Luther, followed by us, came up and yanked her up by her hair. She screamed as Luther released her.

"Talk to me, woman! When did you last talk to Davey?" he shouted in her face. "Talk fast, bitch!"

Cindy's eyes went wide and wild. "I guess yesterday. Why?"

Buck calmed Luther down and looked at Cindy. "Davey Morgan is one of the killers we're hiding from." She made a little noise and looked stricken. Buck said to Luther, "How does she know him?"

Luther stepped back and said, "Cindy came to me last month saying she met a guy at a bar, and they had a thing going. She wanted some advice on what to do about it since she was married to Ricky. She told me his name, Davey Morgan, when I asked if I might know him. I didn't and told her to be careful, Ricky was not one to share his woman."

"Cindy, what exactly did you tell Morgan?" Buck asked. "Tell us everything."

She had tears in her eyes. "I called Davey 'cause I missed him. I told him Ricky brought me here to help protect some TV talk show host. Davey asked me who. I told him."

"How did you call him? Where was he?" I asked.

"I called him on his cell phone. I used mine." She was crying now.

"Cindy, I need his number. Get it for me." She ran off to get her cell phone. I continued, "Some cell phones have GPS tracking. His may. Deacon, see if you can check on it."

Deacon said he'd call a friend in the forensic lab to see if it was possible.

I said, "Son of a bitch, talk about coincidences. OK, we have to change plans now."

She came back and gave me the number. I gave it to Deacon. Then I had an idea. Since Davey didn't know we knew about Cindy and him, we might be able to set a trap. I took my three amigos to the side and told them my idea. They thought it might work. We looked at Cindy. She just said, "What?"

We all went into the house, and I told Cindy we wanted her to call Davey, "Pretend you don't know about his connection to us and tell him you can get away for the night. Tell him you want to meet him at a bar in New Baltimore." I explained.

"But Davey will kill me if he finds out I'm setting him up," she wailed.

"Don't worry. We'll be watching you closely. You need to do this to help us stop him."

She hesitated then said, "All right, I'll do it."

I said we should wait for a while. "It's too soon after we chased him off." We sat Cindy down and told her not to move from that spot.

Luther called Boon in and told him to watch Cindy. If she moved, shoot her in the foot. She looked in panic at Luther, then to Boon, and back again to Luther. He grinned at her, and we went out.

I told Penny what had just happened. She looked around in panic. I said he was gone and told her of our plan.

"You think Davey will fall for it?" she asked.

"Well, so far he doesn't know we know. It may work. We have nothing to lose, so we'll see."

She hugged me and said, "Don't let go."

We waited about two hours, then turned Cindy loose after coaching her. She dialed the number, and after a couple of rings he answered. She put it on speaker so we could hear. He must have seen the caller ID. He said, "What's up, baby?"

"I really need you, Davey. I'm getting so hot just thinking about you. It's been so long. You miss me?" She poured it on.

He paused. "I miss your fine body, woman. What do you want to do about it?"

"Davey, I'm sneaking out of this stinking place tonight. There's a bar in New Baltimore that I can get to. Want to meet there? I may not even come back here. It sucks. We could just run off together."

I whispered in her ear not to overdo it.

He paused, thinking, I presumed, then said it sounded like a winner. He asked the name of the bar. She told him what we told her. She said she'd be there by 9 P.M. and would be wearing her sexiest outfit. I could almost hear him drool. Idiot. He said he'd be there and hung up. Cindy looked at us, and we decided to go scout out the bar for the best attack. I asked Luther to round up four of his best men with their bikes and follow us to the bar.

We headed down 23 Mile Road and arrived at the "Bore's Head" bar, I liked the irony of the name.

The bikes and hot rods roared into the parking lot, scaring half the people loitering around the parked vehicles. We parked off to the side, and Buck, Luther, and I scouted out the lot. Deacon sat in his patrol car across the street in a restaurant parking lot, waiting for us to signal him to ride to the rescue. We figured on grabbing Davey while he was in the lot so as not to endanger any patrons inside the bar. We had Cindy stand out front, and the rest of us milled about the lot where most of the people were starting to party before heading into the place.

It got to be 9:00 as we waited. No sign of Davey. Buck and I sat in his van and watched the road for the black Bonneville. Luther was hanging off his Harley about 20 feet from Cindy, talking to Boon.

It was now 9:30, and I was beginning to feel uneasy. We waited another 15 minutes, then I said to Buck, "Something's wrong. He should be here by now." He agreed.

I called Deacon on his cell phone and told him Buck and I were going back to his place to check it out. He said he'd continue watching the bar in case Davey still showed up. Buck went to Luther and told him our plan. We left the parking lot and headed back to Buck's.

We pulled into Buck's drive and got out. There was no one in front, and it was way too quiet. I started to worry. We drew our guns and slowly went around back. There was no one there, either. We went up to the back door, and I looked in the window. I could see the people we left, sitting on the floor in the living room, feet and hands tied.

"Shit!" I yelled, yanked open the door and ran into the room. Everyone was tied and gagged. I pulled a gag out of Mouse's mouth, and she cried, "They got Penny!"

My heart stopped. I got on my cell and called Deacon, telling him to get the hell back here and bring everyone with him, Penny was taken.

Buck and I untied the eight people in the room, and I started grilling Mouse.

She said speaking fast, "We were all in the backyard except Missy and Frank. They were up front. We saw a man and a woman come around the house with guns pointed at Missy and Frank's heads, saying they would kill them if anyone moved. The woman told Penny to get over by her. Penny said not to hurt anyone. She seemed to know the guy as she was scolding him for all this and asking how he could have done what he did. The guy told her to shut up. He grabbed Penny and pointed the gun at her head. They ordered us all into the house, and the guy pulled out some rope he had in a pack on his back. He ordered Frank to tie everyone, and then he tied Frank. They left, and you guys showed up."

I asked how long ago. She said not long, about 20 minutes. Deacon and Luther came flying in, and we filled them in on the details.

I asked Frank, "Did you see the car they came it?"

"Yeah, it was a black Bonneville," he replied.

Luther yelled to his men, "Get on your bikes and spread out to see if anyone can spot them. Boon, hit the freeway towards Detroit and call if you see them."

My heart was in my throat, and I was having trouble breathing. I felt like someone ripped off both my arms, and I couldn't do anything. I had let her down.

*

Chapter Seventeen

Deacon got on his radio and reported a kidnapping to the county sheriff and New Baltimore police. He requested they put out an all-points bulletin. He called Trapper from his cell phone. I was in no mood to talk to Trapper and told Deacon that. I could hear Trapper yelling through the phone in Deacon's ear as he held it out to lessen the verbal onslaught. Deacon knew I was hurting, so when Trapper wanted to talk to me, Deacon said I was out somewhere.

I sat at the dining table. My mind was spinning. Buck sat across from me, knowing nothing he could say would do any good.

I had to pull myself together. I had to find Penny. I looked at Buck and said, "They want to make their little film so they won't kill her right off. The police got their video equipment from the cabin, so they would have to buy new equipment or steal it. Where would they go to tape it?"

My mind went blank again, nothing coming out that would help. I took a breath and let it out. "OK, let's do this by steps. First, they need a place to tape. Second, they need the equipment. Third, and this is the thing that scares me, they would have to force Penny to confess and apologize for what the cheerleaders did. I'm afraid that Penny won't cooperate with them, and they will have to hurt her. She'll fight them all the way."

Luther came in and said, "I got on my radio and put the word out to all the Harley riders I know, they'll help spread the word to be on the lookout for the car. It's a big network. In an hour, every hog hopper in the state will be watching."

I thanked him and went back to thinking. A difficult task because my mind was so filled with the thought of harm coming to Penny. Buck could see I was on the edge.

He finally spoke. "Jimmy, stop beating yourself up. It happened, and there's no one to blame, least of all yourself! Can you just get yourself back into finding her now? This is serious and we will need to stay focused. Time doesn't wait, man."

I looked at him and got angry, not with Buck, but with Waters and Morgan. The anger was welling up in me, and I had to do something. "OK, let's put our heads together and work it out."

Boon ran in and said, "Someone from the Warren Chapter Harley Riders called in saying a black '98 Bonneville was seen on I-696 around Van Dyke Avenue, heading west. They said there was a man and woman in the car, but they didn't see anyone else. They were relaying between hogs, following the car."

Buck and I jumped up and went out. I started heading to my car. Buck yelled to follow him. He went to the garage off to the side, pulled open the door and told me to get in as he pointed to his souped-up T-Bird. Deacon yelled that he would run blocker with sirens and lights. He radioed the sighting and reported he was in route.

We sped out 23 Mile Road to I-94 and down the freeway until we hit the junction for I-696, then headed west. Luther and most of his men were keeping up with us on their hogs. It must have been a sight for drivers as we were roaring past, cop car in front followed by classic cars and then bikers. The last call from the Warren riders was that they lost sight of the car between I-75 and Woodward.

We continued on. It was about 11 P.M., and, thankfully, traffic was light. We made good time. All the way, I kept wondering why they were heading that way, what was out there. I watched the scenery flashing by and realized I had seen this twice when we went to Penny's studio for her show.

I yelled, "That's it!" startling Buck. "They're going to the TV station. Morgan worked there and has a pass card. There's plenty of equipment to finish their video. It has to be where they're going!"

I called Deacon on his cell and told him my thought. He said he'd head that way and that he would call Trapper about our progress. About three more miles down the road, traffic started to back up. We had already passed the last exit and were in the walled section of I-696—the concrete ditch, as it was called—no way out. Deacon carefully went up on the shoulder, followed by us, and rode down to where a semi-truck hauling dirt was over turned. It was completely across the freeway from side to side. Deacon got out and found the truck driver. We came up behind him.

"Fucking black car was weaving in front of me, and then the bastards started shooting at my front tires and my windshield. Hell, I hit the brakes, and the whole damn truck just jack-knifed and went over. I'm lucky I'm alive and didn't kill anyone else. Son of a bitch!" The truck driver was furious.

Someone had called the Oak Park police. They approached the scene the same way we had, driving along the shoulder. They stopped behind our little caravan. None of them looked happy, but Deacon proceeded to tell them about Waters and where we were headed until this happened. They started getting traffic moved over to make room for us to turn around. Deacon and I got in his patrol car and Buck in his T-Bird. While the bikers helped direct traffic, we drove the wrong way on the I-696 shoulder to the previous exit off Woodward Avenue. Driving up the on ramp—scaring the hell out of other motorists—we spun around onto Woodward and headed back to the service drive along I-696. We got to an overpass that took us to 10 Mile Road and out past Greenfield Road toward Southfield. The TV station was on 10 Mile, so we got there shortly. At night, there would just be a skeleton crew and a few news and weather people hanging around the building.

We pulled up to the guard shack. It was empty. Deacon got out of the car, went over to push the button to raise the gate and found the guard dead on the floor of the booth. He raised the gate, got on his radio and called the Southfield police to report the murder and our reason for being there. We drove in and parked up front. The lobby was closed, and the doors were locked. Buck just said, "Fuck it," pulled out his .38, and blasted the glass in the door, shattering it. Deacon stood looking at him and said, "Nice play, grace."

"What, you wanted to wait for a locksmith?" He went through the door, followed by Deacon and me.

From the lobby, I had no idea where we were going, so we headed down the hall and kept a watch for movement. Just as we got to a door, someone opened it and walked into three guns pointed at his head. He quietly said, "Shit," and we asked him if he knew Davey Morgan. He said he'd heard about Morgan, but hadn't seen him. I asked where they stored small VHS camera equipment. He said in the electronics office locker. He told us the directions, and we left him, after warning him to get out of the building before he was killed, and to take anyone else with him. He nodded and quickly headed out the way we came in.

~~*~~

In another part of the building, in the back of a secluded prop room, Morgan was tying Penny to a prop bed, spread-eagled. She was gagged and was just coming out of unconsciousness, having been drugged by Waters. Julia was setting up the video camera they had stolen from the electronics locker. She popped in the tape marked "Wickens". Julia then walked over to a long extension cord lying on a prop table and yanked off the female end, stripping the wires with a knife she had in her pocket. She cleaned the ends and bared the wires, separating the ends so they didn't touch as she plugged the other end into the wall socket. She carefully tapped the wire ends together and produced a nice spark. She grinned.

Davey ripped open Penny's tank top and cut her shorts with the knife blade he carried, then stood back admiring her almost naked body.

"Can I have fun with her before she dies?" he asked.

"No, dear brother. You can't," she snarled. "You've already had enough fun screwing that biker chick."

"Yeah, well, it was fortunate she was involved with this bitch. We might have never found her."

"OK, that is the only time I'll look past your screwing another woman. Only I get that pleasure." She smiled seductively. "This plan works even better. We'll film the confession from her and get it on her own TV station as one of their breaking news stories. These media bastards love gruesome events. They feed on it and pander to the masses of mindless scum, soaking in the gory details."

Occasionally, Davey was a little afraid of Julia. Her mind would go off in strange directions, but she was a good lay, so he played along.

Penny was making small noises. Carrying the plugged in extension cord, Julia went to her. She got real close to Penny's face and snarled, "You will do what I ask, or I will make you regret it." She snapped the ends together, and a spark flashed in front of Penny's eyes. Penny panicked, but with the duct tape on her mouth, she couldn't scream. Julia brought the wires to Penny's abdomen and touched the skin quickly, causing Penny to tremble in pain. Julia laughed.

"Now, my dear Penny, I'm going to tell you what you're going to do. You will listen and obey, or this will happen." She hit Penny again with the wires. Penny stiffened again. "Over and over till you get your part right." She hit Penny a third time, letting the wires stay in contact with her flesh a little longer than the first couple of times. Penny writhed in agony until Julia backed away. "Davey, remove the tape from her mouth." She snapped the wires together so Penny could see and said, "Don't scream or cry out, or I'll make you suffer."

Davey yanked the tape, causing Penny to cry out in pain.

"Davey, that wasn't nice. You're hurting her." Julia laughed.

~~*~~

We found ourselves in the electronics room, Deacon found the cabinet that had video cameras. We did a quick inventory and deduced one camera was not in its assigned spot. We went back out the electronics room door, deciding to split up. Three people searching would cover more ground than everyone searching together.

Buck said, "I'll fire a shot to let you know if I find something."

I said, "That may not work, most of the studio was sound proofed. Use our cell phones."

I went down one hall, Buck down another, and Deacon through a door to yet another part of the studio.

I walked through the darkened halls that led to the back of the building. I went down a side hall that had three doors. In the dark, I didn't see a short step stool in front of me, banged my knee and leaned into a table with electrical things on it. The table tipped and dumped the contents on the floor making a horrible racket. I looked around at the doors, waiting to see if anyone would come out. None of the doors opened.

Back in Penny's torture chamber, Julia and Davey looked at each other when they heard a racket. Julia told Davey to watch Penny. She went through the prop room to the entrance, listening at the door. She opened it a crack and peeked out.

Feeling lucky that no one had heard me, I slipped through one of the other doors marked "Studio C." I went in a ways and walked around the set. It looked like a sports show stage. There was baseball equipment laying around the set.

I didn't see Julia slip quietly in behind me. I took my cell phone out and called Buck. He said he hadn't seen anything or anyone. I told him I was in studio C and hadn't seen anyone either.

Just as I was going to say goodbye, Julia snuck up on me with a baseball bat she must have picked up from the set, and started hitting me with it. I dropped my phone and tried to ward off Julia's attack, but she kept at it. I fell to one side and found a spotlight housing on the floor. Picking it up, I started to swing at Julia, hitting her around the knees, causing her to scream in pain. The housing had pointed edges, and I must have made contact with her leg. She limped away from me, dropping the bat by the door as she went out.

She went back into the prop room and took her gun away from Davey. She told him to stay there again, and she went back out, carefully. I had already come out behind her from Studio C and went into the other door, this time with my gun drawn. I was lucky to have picked the door that Julia wasn't behind. She came out, just missing me. I went into a room that looked like a small storage space. The walls were lined with shelves containing what looked like video tape canisters. I found another door at the back of the room. I opened it carefully and went through after listening for sounds. I heard something and went in.

~~*~~

Davey was pacing and irritable, mumbling about how Julia treated him like some puppet. Penny could see he was losing it and stiffened when he walked to her. He sat on the edge of the bed beside her. He took the long knife from his belt and set it on the bed next to him.

"Hey, pretty Penny. You always looked so good when you pranced around the station." He moved his hand up her stomach, to her breasts and back down between her legs. She spit at him, and he smacked her. "Look, bitch, you aren't in any position to do that. I'm in charge here!"

"I think Julia would argue that," she hissed. He picked up the extension cord and started hitting her with it all over her body, causing her to scream in pain and bounce on the bed. He stopped.

"You bounced so nice on that bed. I'm going to give you something to bounce for." He started to undo his belt and his pants. Before he dropped them, he came to the edge of the bed. He let his pants fall and pulled down his briefs. Penny closed her eyes, expecting the worst.

"Now, bitch, see what a real man is like," he hissed.

"Only if she can find a real man, because you aren't one," I said. He turned, looking me in the eyes with surprise, reached for his knife on the bed, and brought it up as I fired my gun into his chest. He went down.

I stood there, not believing I had actually shot a human being.

Just as I looked over to Penny, I was shocked to hear a blood-curdling scream behind me. I turned to see Julia standing behind me. She must have followed me through the storage room. She was pointing her gun and howling that I killed her brother. I wasn't sure if I could raise the gun in my hand in time to stop her from shooting me, but I figured I needed to try. I started to bring my gun up when something came flying from around a set wall, hitting Julia square in the head, forcing her body forward and down to the ground. Buck came barreling around, baseball bat in hand. He stood over her body waiting for movement, but there was none.

I was shaking, but managed to say, "What's the matter, your gun doesn't work?"

He grinned and said, "It's was more dramatic this way."

Deacon came flying in from the front, saw Davey on the floor in a pool of blood and asked, "Who shot him?"

"I did," I said in a daze, still hurting from the beating I took from Julia.

He came to me, took the gun from my hand, and wiped it with his handkerchief. Holding it in his hand, he said, "Jim, you never touched this gun. You understand?" He looked to Buck and said, "I came in here, saw Morgan threatening Penny, and I shot him. OK? Understood?" We nodded. "Is she dead?" he said looking to Walters.

"Don't think so," Buck answered.

I ran to Penny, covering her with a blanket from the side of the bed, and untied her hands. She was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly. Gently whispering, I told her, "It's all over, baby, it's all over."

Buck and Deacon came to the edge of the bed, and then they heard a noise behind them. Julia had risen, aiming her gun at Penny. She fired just as Deacon jumped in front of the bed. Buck brought out his .38 and blasted Julia. Deacon was on the floor, but took the gun I used and fired until the gun was empty. Julia fired again, but this time at the ceiling as she was dropping backwards to the floor.

Deacon was hit in the groin towards his hip. He looked up and said, "Are we done now?"

*

Chapter Eighteen

Trapper was beside himself after he got to the studio. The Southfield police let him have lead since the mess was attached to his series of murders. They took charge of the gate guard's murder, but said that the bodies of Morgan and Waters could be transported to Clinton Township for autopsy and processing.

The EMTs were busy putting Penny on a gurney. She was under sedation, so she wasn't really aware of her surroundings. The next problem was trying to figure out where they would get a gurney big enough to handle Deacon. We all laughed. They did manage to get him out to the ambulance and hauled him off.

Trapper had Buck and me in an office in the building. It was now about 2 A.M., everyone was tired, but we answered his questions and gave him our statements. He interrogated Deacon before they took him off to the hospital. He said he was going to base his findings on that, but wanted to hear our side.

We related everything from the incident at the New Baltimore bar to the shooting of Julia Waters. Trapper said to downplay Buck's involvement in the shooting. It would get complicated for him. We got our stories together and called it a night.

I asked one of the Southfield cops where they took Penny, and he said they were transporting her to Mt. Clemens General Hospital. I asked Buck to drive me there. We got to the hospital around 3 A.M., and they let us go into the room. Trapper had called the hospital and said that we were coming there to protect Penny, so that allowed us in after hours. Buck crawled onto the empty bed next to Penny's. I pulled a chair over to her, took her hand and held it tightly. I could feel her hand squeeze mine and then relax. I slept with my head on her bed.

Around 8:30 A.M. Trapper came in and shook me. Penny was still sleeping, and I didn't want to disturb her. We woke Buck and went to an empty waiting room. He had worked on his report all night as he wanted to get it finished.

"So, the only thing I'm a bit fuzzy on is Sue Carter's murder. Who was the old lady?" He posed the question to us.

I offered, "Maybe Julia was in make-up. It definitely wouldn't be Morgan."

"I thought that, but in my investigating, which I am authorized to do," he said, smirking at me, "we found out that Waters was in a motel in Warren, doing the bump and tickle with John Stafford, the murdered renter they lived with. We found receipts for the motel in his car, and the clerk verified they were there."

I was puzzled. "Why didn't they just use his house? Why a motel?"

"My assumption was that Davey was there, and she didn't want him to see. That's all I can figure. I think Davey killed Stafford out of jealousy after finding out Julia was doing him. We'll never really know now since they are all dead. But that still doesn't solve the mystery of the old lady murderer. I guess it was Davey in a very good disguise. That's going to be in my report." Trapper stood and said he was going to visit Deacon on the next floor. He told us Deacon's hipbone was shattered. He might not be the same again, would always walk with a limp. He gave us the room number, said to visit, and we said we would. He left, and Buck and I went back to Penny's room.

We walked in to find a nurse preparing a hypo. She looked startled when we came in, then kept her face away from us. I asked what she was giving Penny, she mumbled something I couldn't hear. I moved closer and saw a strand of black hair hanging down from her gray hair. I could see she was well wrinkled, reminding me of the description of the old lady who killed Sue.

I turned away, got on my cell phone and hit speed dial for Trapper. When he answered, I said, "Get down here, fast," and hung up. I turned back and said to the nurse, "I'd like to call a doctor to get a second opinion on the shot."

She whipped around and had a gun pointed at us. I looked at Buck and said, "And I thought this was over."

She pulled off the wig she was wearing and yelled, "Damn you, Richards, you were a smart ass in school, and you haven't changed! It will be my pleasure to kill you, too."

I looked closer at the hag in front of us, and suddenly it struck me. Alice Stone! I said, "Why, Alice, everyone thinks you're missing."

"They can all go to hell. I waited years to exact my revenge on the damn cheerleaders for what they did to Nathan. He made me swear to leave them alone, made me promise. I waited until I heard he was dead before I made my move. Julia was already a wreck over her father's confession, and it took a lot of talking to convince her to follow my plan. My stupid son was all primed for the kill. He was always a bit sadistic. I plotted out everything. I had Julia already involved in one murder, and she went along with the rest. The woman was a whore. She did anything for a bit of dick. But I did it, killed five of them. Now I'm going to finish off Wickens, and I can finally be happy."

"You killed Sue Carter, didn't you?" I asked.

She smiled. "That bitch was my one greatest kill. I wanted it for myself. She hounded Nathan and me whenever we tried to be alone. She delighted in following us around, to make our lives miserable. The stupid little bitch. I enjoyed slitting her throat."

"Your son's death doesn't count for something?" I asked.

"Yes, makes me want to kill you all the more!" She raised the gun to fire just as Trapper burst in from a side door, calling for her to freeze. She turned the gun at Trapper. He fired twice, and she went down.

The shots brought nurses and doctors in. One doctor knelt down to check for a pulse and shook his head. Alice was dead. Trapper held up his badge and told them all to get out of the crime scene. He got his cell phone out and called for backup.

Penny stirred and with her eyes still closed, said "Can I have some quiet here?"

I went over, kissed her lips, and said, "Anything for you, babe."

The End

For every ending, there's a new beginning.

Follow Jim and Penny in their next book,

"Vegas Showgirl Murders"

