 
# Fires of Revenge

# By Ruth Ann Hixson

Copyrighted by Ruth Ann Hixson 2013

All rights reserved

Published by Ruth Ann Hixson at Smashwords

This novel is fiction and all the names and locations are from the author's imagination. If actual locations are used, they are used in a fictional way. The names are all creations of the author and are not from any real person, living or dead.

Cover image by Dreamstime.com

Cover text by Betsy Riley

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

# Ruth Ann Hixson

I have lived my entire life in Central Pennsylvania. I have been making up stories as long as I can remember. I always had a story going on in my head. At age 40, I began writing them down. I knew I needed to build a portfolio of my writing so I went to college at age 42. They didn't have a credit course for creative writing so I studied journalism. After I graduated, I worked as a newspaper journalist until I had to quit because of health issues. I began writing in my spare time but I didn't try very hard to get published. Then along came the internet and self publishing. It was just what I needed to jump start my freelance writing career.

#

# Chapter 1

Amy Hollister sat in her car shaking uncontrollably. She didn't know how she had missed hitting the car that cut her off out on the four lane. "It was a blue car," was all she could tell the state trooper who stopped when he saw her car against the guardrail. She had managed to drive home and now sat in her driveway.

"No sense in sitting here," she breathed as she undid her seat belt and pushed herself to her feet dragging her purse after her. She walked around to look at the damage to her vintage dark blue Mustang. She tried the passenger side door; it wouldn't open.

Fumbling for her house key, she walked up the steps to her front door. All she needed to do was grab her grocery list and be on her way. She unlocked the door, stepped inside and froze. Papers and books littered the living room floor. The cushions from the couch were sliced open. It was happening again. She thought she'd left it all behind in California. Panic enveloped her as she backed out the door and yanked it shut. Her heart was beating double time as she ran for her car. She locked herself inside and dug her cell phone from her purse to dial 911.

She could hardly speak when the man answered. "Someone," she began. "Someone t-trashed my house. Please send the police." She gave him her location. "I'm in my car. I was afraid to go any farther than the door."

"That's good," he assured her. "The police should be there in a couple of minutes. Just take a deep breath and give me as much information as you can until the police arrive." He kept her talking until the police cruiser pulled in her driveway ten minutes later.

The police parked behind her car and two uniformed officers got out. She put down the window and told them, "I didn't lock the door back. I was too scared. Do you want me to go along in with you?"

"Stay put," the cop said. His blue shirt had corporal stripes on its long sleeves. "You go around back," he told the other cop.

Amy watched him as he walked up the porch steps, pulling his gun before he opened the door. He moved with such self assurance, such confidence.

Sam Elliot noted that there was a scarcity of furniture as he passed through what should be a dining room to the kitchen. He wondered why there was so little furniture. He unlocked the back door to let the other cop in.

"No sign of forced entry." The other cop said as he came through the French door. Sam retraced his steps and they went through the house checking all the rooms.

"Look at this," Rookie Marty Radcliff said as he stood at the doorway to Amy's bedroom.

Sam came to look. An inflatable, life-size doll hung from the ceiling fan over the bed. The doll was dressed in a white tee shirt and plaid boxer shorts with glasses taped to its head which was topped by a dark brown wig.

Sam pressed the button on his shoulder mike. "Send a crime scene unit and a detective to 4-3-9 W. Nelson Avenue. This looks like more than a random break-in."

Sam said, "I better go get some information from the victim. You keep an eye on the scene."

Sam approached the car where Amy waited. "I need to ask you some questions," he said. "Would you mind coming back to the squad car?" He opened the door for her.

"Why don't we just go inside?"

"Not yet. Wait until the crime scene unit and the detective get here."

"W-why?" Amy thought she sounded like a scared kid.

Sam took her elbow and guided her to the passenger side of the cruiser on which the red and blue lights flashed. She slid onto the seat as he closed the door and went around to the driver's side. He took a yellow legal size tablet from the dash. "I'm Corporal Sam Elliot." He wrote the date and time at the top of the page. "Name?"

"Amy Hollister."

"Do you live here alone?"

Amy answered, "Yes."

He wrote the address below her name. "Phone numbers. House and cell."

Amy gave him both numbers. "Did you find anyone in the house?"

"No. Nothing seemed to be out of place in the kitchen, bathroom and the rooms used for storage. How long have you lived here?

"Two weeks."

"Where did you live before that?"

"The Star Budget Motel."

"Before that."

Amy gave him her California address. "My brother lives there now."

He nodded. "Employer?"

"The federal government."

That opened his blue eyes wide. "What department?"

"FBI."

"Are you an agent?"

"No. Support staff. I have low-level classified clearance. I just transferred here from the west coast." Amy sat with her hands clasped tightly together.

A van pulled in behind the police car and a young woman came up to knock on his window. He put it down. "You can go on in. Radcliff's in there."

Elliot went back to his questions. "Do you have any enemies?"

"Why? What did you find?"

"Just calm down. Please answer the question."

"Not in Pennsylvania."

"In California?"

"I wouldn't call them enemies. We just didn't agree. I thought it best to leave so I asked to be transferred east. So now I work in Philadelphia."

"What was the subject of your disagreement?"

"My husband's death. I don't think the police investigated it thoroughly enough. They called it suicide and closed the case. I think he was murdered. The case stayed closed and I argued with Mark's family and mine. They told me to accept it and let it go. I can't. Mark and I had some problems but we were working through them. I won't believe he killed himself. I won't!"

Someone rapped on his window. He put it down. "Radcliff's inside," was all he said.

His next question was like a kick in the stomach. "What was your husband wearing at the time of his death?"

"A tee shirt and boxer shorts."

"Glasses?"

"No. He wasn't wearing his glasses and I never found them in the house. Why?"

"Were they rimless glasses?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Someone hung an inflatable doll in your bedroom. It is attired in a tee shirt and boxer shorts with rimless glasses taped to its head and a brown wig."

Amy felt the blood drain away from her face. He grabbed her behind her neck and forced her to lean forward. "Keep your head down until the dizziness passes," he ordered.

"I'm okay," she said when the dizziness left and she could think rationally again. When he moved his hand away from her neck, she sat up and said, "I want to see those glasses."

"You can't go in there until the crime scene unit is finished."

"The hell I can't. It's my house." She opened the car door and headed up the walk to the front door.

He came after her and grabbed his arm to spin her around. "You can't..."

"Take your hand off me," she ordered. "I'm the victim here not a person of interest. Besides, if I can't stay here tonight, I need to pack a bag."

He let her go and followed her inside.

Sgt. Shawn Albert turned around when he heard the door. "Ma'am, you can't come in here now. The crime scene unit isn't finished."

"Sergeant Albert," Sam said, "meet Amy Hollister, the owner of this house and she will let you know it."

"Ms. Hollister, your house is now a crime scene..."

"That's Mrs. Hollister. I'm a widow. This is my house and I have a deed to prove it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to pack a bag so I can go to a motel until I am allowed back in my house." She stalked off to the bedroom where she found a woman with blond hair standing on the bed which was devoid of its comforter. She was taking pictures of the inflated doll's head.

Amy stared at the glasses; Mark's glasses. She was sure of it. She choked back tears and asked in a husky voice, "May I see those glasses?"

The woman looked around. "Who are you?"

"I could ask that question, too, seeing that you're standing on my bed."

"I'm Amanda Carroll with CSU. I can't let you handle the glasses until they've been processed. You aren't wearing gloves."

"I'm Mrs. Hollister. I live here. Those look like my late husband's glasses. I'd like a closer look at them. I want to look through the lenses to know if they're really his."

Amanda stepped down and pulled gloves from her kit. "Handle them by the edges so as not to mess up any residual evidence."

Sgt. Albert burst into the room. "Mrs. Hollister, you have to leave. You'll mess up the crime scene."

Amanda looked around at him. "You're messing it up worse than she is. She's being careful."

Amy looked through the lenses and sat down on the bed. "They're Mark's." She gave the glasses back to Amanda. "Now I know what happened to them. Whoever killed him took them and they show up here, three thousand miles away." Tears began to trickle down her face. "Why? Why did someone kill him? He was a good man."

"Elliot!" Albert yelled. "Take her to the station until we get done here."

Amy stiffened when Sam came into the room. She didn't like these men messing around in her bedroom. "I need to pack a bag; you can wait in the living room."

Amanda winked at him. "I'll keep an eye on her. Actually I could use a little help getting this creature down."

Sam looked at the dangling doll. "Deflate it. Then you can roll it up and bag it. You'll want to lay down a cloth to catch anything that drops from it."

"Thanks, Elliot, for telling me how to do my job."

He grinned. "Always glad to help a lady."

Amy wiped away her tears and hauled a suitcase from the closet and set it on her bed. When Amanda wasn't watching, she slipped her 9 mil into a suit jacket pocket and put it in her suitcase. She had a permit to carry anywhere in the United States. She had taken shooting lessons when she worked for the ATF in L.A. After she packed enough clothing to last a couple of days, she went to the bathroom for her toothbrush and other toiletries. Stuffing them in her bag, she zipped it shut. "All ready. I'll need to take my car so I can go to the motel."

Sam straightened from where he leaned in the doorway. "I'll drive it for you. Marty can drive the squad car back to the station. Right now he's putting up crime scene tape. Some cars will have to be moved."

"No they don't. You can drive through the car port and right across the lawn to the alley."

"With the owner's permission." He picked up her bag and went to the living room with Amy following him. He explained to Albert what he planned. Then he escorted Amy to her car.

His hand on her arm felt so strong. An incongruous thought zipped through her brain. She wished he would hold her in his arms to comfort her. It had been so long since she's had someone to care for her.

After he stowed her suitcase on the back seat, Sam held the driver's door for Amy. "Scoot over," he said after she sat on the driver's seat. He slid behind the wheel and reached down for the lever to move the seat back. "Why did you park back here instead of under the car port?"

"I forgot to put my grocery list in my purse this morning. I just stopped by to get it." She went on to tell him about the near miss out on the four lane.

"Did that trooper have a name?" Sam put the car in gear and drove through the car port.

"His name tag said Evans."

"Okay. I know him. I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"I thought Albert is in charge of this investigation." Amy looked across at his handsome profile in the fading light.

"Albert is an arrogant asshole. You didn't hear that from me." Sam angled the car to make the turn onto the narrow alley. He jammed on the brake and shoved the car in reverse as a blue car shot out of the shadows, narrowly missing Amy's car.

"That's the car that ran me off the road."

"Blue Chevy, late seventies, early eighties. License plate light out." Sam spun the wheel to follow the speeding car. He barely slowed at the street before going straight across.

"How do you know he didn't turn?" Amy asked.

"I didn't hear any tires squalling. As fast as he was going...Dammit. I don't see any car. He must have pulled off and hid. We'll have to keep an eye out for it." He stopped at the next street. "Have you noticed anyone hanging around watching you?"

"Do you think I'm being stalked?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Not since I left California. I didn't actually see anyone watching me. But I'd get the feeling I was being watched. Someone broke into the house once. The police chalked it up as a random act of vandalism. No one was ever arrested. It's nerve-racking to have it start here." Amy began to calm down. She felt safe with the big cop in the car with her.

"We'll talk about it later. I'm hungry. How about you?"

"Famished. I skipped lunch today."

Sam stopped at MacDonald's for sandwiches, fries and Amy ordered a large chocolate milkshake. "I want to warn you about Albert," Sam said. "He'll try to put words in your mouth."

They were still eating in break room when Sgt. Albert walked in. "Mrs. Hollister, I want to talk to you."

"Can't you at least let her finish eating?" Sam put in.

#

# 

# Chapter 2

Amy popped the last bite of her chicken sandwich in her mouth, gathered up her fries, the little paper plate with ketchup on it and her milkshake. As she stood up to follow Albert, she thought what Sam told her about Albert. She wondered why didn't Sam tell Albert about the blue car in the alley? The same blue car that had run her off the road. That there was friction between the two men was evident.

# She was shepherded into a small room that had a large mirror on one wall and a camera in the corner up by the ceiling. As an employee of the FBI she knew the mirror was a one-way window. She had stood on the other side of one.

She put the remnants of her meal on the table and sat down. "Why are we in an interrogation room? Am I being treated as a suspect?"

Albert ignored her questions and sat down across from her, taking a white sheet of paper from a folder he carried. "This is a copy of the information you gave Corporal Elliot. Is that all correct?"

Amy swiped a French fry in the ketchup and put it in her mouth, chewing slowly as if mulling over his question. After she swallowed she said, "Of course it is. I don't lie."

"This business in California about your husband's death. Why do you believe he was murdered and not a suicide?"

Another French fry. And another as she thought about it. "Mark wouldn't do that. He loved me and he knew I loved him." Another potato stick. "He wouldn't have done that in a place where I would be the one who found him. He was a considerate, caring person even if he did have a lapse in discretion that one time. We were working it out. We talked about it; made plans."

"What is the name of the detective that investigated that case?"

Amy took a slurp of her milkshake and finished off her fries. "Sergeant Drake Donnell. He didn't do a very good job of it."

"Mrs. Hollister, Would you like to get your husband's case reopened?"

Amy frowned. "I don't understand what you mean."

"Oh, come on, Mrs. Hollister. There wasn't anything taken from your house. You could have hung that doll up there. Maybe grab some national attention."

Amy stood up. "Go to hell!" She turned to go.

"Just a minute. We need your prints and DNA."

She sucked the rest of her milkshake through the straw and set the empty cup on the table. "There you go." She walked out. She was mad to the core of her being. How dare he insinuate that I vandalized my own house? Bastard. Who does he think he is? Elliot had warned her he would try to put words in her mouth. As she stomped out the door she dug her car keys from her purse.

Behind her car sat a police cruiser with the large numbers 43 on the hood. It was the same car she'd sat in to talk to Elliot. He got out of the driver's side and came toward her. "That didn't take long."

"Thanks for the heads up about him. He's trying to say I did it myself. Why didn't you tell him about the blue car?"

"Because I can't prove that it's connected to the case." He opened the door for her. "We'll follow you to the motel just to make sure you get there safely. You have my cell number. If you have a problem, you can call me even if I'm off duty. I got a bad feeling about this case and I don't think Albert's going to give it the investigation it deserves."

Before Amy slid behind the wheel she took an close-up look at Sam in the glow of the street lights. He stood more than six feet tall with a sturdy built. He wasn't wearing his hat over his strawberry blonde hair. The light wasn't good enough to tell what color his eyes were. She gave a shake of her head. "I've been there before. I thought I'd leave all this behind when I moved east. I'm just so tired of it all."

"Marty and I are going to drive around and try to find that blue car. Unless it's hidden in a garage or something, we'll find it." He closed the door and went back to the police car.

When she looked in the rearview mirror, she saw the cruiser pull out behind her. It was reassuring to know someone was watching her back. Even if it was only until she got to the motel.

# ****

"Who is it?" Amy came to the door with her gun at the ready.

"Elliot and Radcliffe. You called for police?"

"Yeah." She unlocked and opened the door.

Elliot stepped across the threshold. "Point that thing the other way."

Amy lowered the gun and walked around the bed to lay it on the nightstand beside her cell phone. "Sorry about the gun. I wasn't taking any chances."

Radcliffe stepped inside and closed the door. Then he switched the overhead light on so Elliot could see to write on his tablet.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"I got this weird phone call? Really scary. He asked, 'Amy, did you really think you could get away from me by moving east?' I hung up on him. I didn't think about recording it until it was too late. Sorry."

"Is there anything that would give you a clue as to who he might be?" Sam asked.

Amy stood with her hands clasped in front of her. She nodded. "He sounds like the same person that called to tell me Mark was having an affair. Especially the way he snickered. Like he enjoyed scaring me."

"He probably did enjoy it. Stalkers are like that." Sam commented. "Is that all you can tell us?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry. That's all. If he calls back..."

"Turn your phone off so he can't call back. I need to leave the information about this and the blue Chevy on Albert's desk. You should be in protective custody."

"I'll talk to Fred about it tomorrow."

"Fred?"

"Fred Weller. He's my boss."

"FBI?"

"Of course. That's where I work. I need to get some sleep so I can work tomorrow."

"We'll make a couple passes through until we go off duty. I'll mention it to the next shift so they can do the same."

"Thanks." As soon as they were out the door, she locked it again.

Amy went back to bed but sleep was a long time in coming. She awoke with fragments of her dreams still floating around in her mind. She felt like going back to sleep but she had a job to go to. Plus she needed to talk to Special Agent Fred Weller about what had happened last evening. It all seemed surrealistic. To make things worse, she had a sleep deprivation headache.

She stopped on her way to work for coffee and a breakfast sandwich which she ate in her car before heading into Philadelphia. After using the last of her coffee to wash down two pain pills, she started her car and pulled out into traffic.

As soon as she got to work she went to the break room for another cup of coffee. Candy Musco was there working on a doughnut and a cup of coffee, her red hair tied up in a high knot.

Candy wiped away some powdered sugar from her lips and smiled. "You look like death warmed over. Didn't you sleep last night?"

"Not much," Amy conceded. She poured coffee in a Styrofoam cup and grabbed a jelly filled doughnut. "I've got to go talk to Fred." She placed the doughnut like a lid over her coffee and held it in her left hand with the strap of her brown leather purse over her left shoulder. She carried her briefcase in her right hand. Leaving the purse and briefcase on her desk she went on to Fred's office.

Fred saw her through the window and motioned her in. "Where's mine?" Fred Weller was a benign looking man of average height, a bald head and black framed glasses. He looked like an accountant or a teacher. A person who had never met him professionally wouldn't suspect he was and FBI Senior Special Agent and a profiler with a degree in psychology. He'd been promoted to a supervisor's post in Philadelphia.

Amy lowered herself into the chair in front of his desk. "I saw Candy in the break room, She told me you already had yours."

"What's on your mind? I can smell the wood burning." He leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. He already had removed his suit coat, loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves.

"A lot." She recounted all that had happened the previous evening. "That bastard cop insinuated I did it myself just to get attention. Oh, I almost forgot. I got a weird phone call." She told him about it.

"Did you call the cops?"

She swallowed a bite of doughnut. "Um-hmm. Corporal Elliot and his rookie buddy came by. He told me to turn off my cell. He said they'd make a few rounds just to make sure everything was all right. I didn't sleep much though. I can't go home because my house is a crime scene."

"Look, if you need to take a day off..."

"I figured it would be safer to just come to work. If I'm not safe in an FBI office I'm not going to be safe anywhere."

By three o'clock Amy almost fell asleep on her chair. Fred came by with a coffee for her. "I think you need to call it a day."

"There isn't anything hanging fire that can't wait." Her cell rang and she dug it out of her purse. "Hello."

"Mrs. Hollister, this is Sergeant Albert. Can you come by the police station after you get off work? I'd like to talk to you."

"I have to take my car to the body shop to get an estimate to have it fixed. I'll stop by as soon as I'm done there." She turned her phone off before he could reply.

"Anything I should know?" Fred asked.

Amy shrugged. "Sergeant Albert wants to talk to me. I'm sure it isn't to apologize for the way he talked to me last night. If it's all right with you, I'll head out."

"Go on. Get something to eat and get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

As Amy rode the elevator down, she had a premonition that she would not be seeing Fred in the morning.

It was nearly six o'clock when she walked into the police station and stopped at the desk. "I'm here to talk to Sergeant Albert."

The woman behind the desk had her sign in and gave her a visitor's badge to hang around her neck. "I'll call him and tell him you're on your way up."

"I hope this won't take very long," Amy told him as she settled onto the chair across from Albert in the interrogation room where she'd been the previous evening.

Albert laid a folder on the table and opened it. "I spoke to Sergeant Donnell. He tells me that you will stop at nothing to get your husband's suicide case reopened and have it ruled murder. He said you want that quarter mil insurance money."

"I can see you've already got your mind made up despite the phone call I got last night. And what about the blue car that ran me off the road yesterday? Corporal Elliot said he would leave you a note on your desk."

"He did. I spoke to him and he couldn't confirm if you really got that phone call. You could have made that up."

"I don't have time for this..." Amy stood up.

"Sit back down, Mrs. Hollister. I can hold you for twenty-four hours without charging you. I'm thinking about charging you with filing a false report and falsifying evidence."

Amy leaned forward. "You do that and I'll tie your ass in such a legal knot you won't be able to wiggle." She turned and walked out.

She stopped at Helen's Sandwich Shop for supper. She was sitting in a booth chewing her first bite of hoagie when Sam Elliot walked in. In his blue uniform, he looked so...so... desirable. He was the first man to capture her interest since Mark.

Sam whistled sharply. "Who's driving the red Explorer?"

A man at the counter turned around. "I just came in to pick up an order."

"Take your time," Sam returned. "My partner's out there writing you a ticket. Blocking a fire hydrant is illegal." He called out, "Two coffees to go, Helen." He came over and sat down across from Amy. "What'd Albert want?"

"Why are you interested?" she returned. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell there's bad blood between you two."

"Albert got my promotion," he confided. "I have more experience, I been on the force longer and I'm a better cop. He got the promotion because of the color of his skin and because he kissed someone's ass. When I protested I was told to accept it or quit."

Amy took a sip of her coke. "This all has to do with the color of his skin?"

"Hell, no. I don't care if he's purple. He got the promotion that should have been mine."

She gave him a quick rundown of her conversation with Albert. "This whole thing is ridiculous. I wish I hadn't called the cops."

"Don't be. I'm off tomorrow and Thursday. Maybe I can ask around your neighborhood as to whether anyone saw anyone messing around. I'm concerned about your safety. There's a stalker out there somewhere and it's only a matter of time before he goes beyond trying to scare you. When you're ready to leave, Marty and I will follow you to the motel."

She gathered up her sandwich, her six-pack of coke and her bag of potato chips. "I'm ready."

When they got to the motel she got her purse, the bag from Helen's and her briefcase. Sam opened the car door for her and took her bag and briefcase so she could unlock the door to the motel room.

"If you have any problems, call me. Even if Albert doesn't think there's any threat to you, I do." He stepped inside and laid her briefcase and bag on the table. "Take care." He left, pulling the door shut after him.

After a shower, Amy sat down to eat her sandwich with coke and chips. She knew she wasn't eating healthy but she wasn't in her own house where she would have had a salad topped off with chunks of chicken and cheese. She would be drinking milk. She wondered how long they would keep her out. She couldn't live in a motel forever.

With a sigh she pushed to her feet and cleared away what was on the table. She dug her bottle of pain killers from her purse and swallowed two pills and washed them down with coke. She was already in her pajamas. Since she was alone, she didn't bother with her robe. She lay down on the bed and flipped on the TV but couldn't keep her mind on the story. It was too late for the news.

She gave up and went to bed certain that she wouldn't sleep. But she did. At 6:30 a.m. the phone rang for her wake up call. After she hung up, she lay still wishing she could go back to sleep. It took all her will power to get out of that bed.

She hurried around to get ready for work, grabbing a few chips to nibble. She'd have to stop somewhere for a breakfast sandwich and coffee. In the meantime, coke would have to be her source of caffeine.

When she was ready, she picked up her briefcase, purse and bag of chips and locked the door on the way out. She set her briefcase and chips on the passenger seat. "Oh, darn, I forgot my cell phone." She stepped back, closed the car door and turned back to her room. She unlocked the door, leaving it open as she started around the bed to get her cell.

A deafening blast and blinding flash came from outside her door. The force the explosion lifted her over the bed and slammed her against the wall at the end of the closet and the bathroom. She slid down the wall to lie stunned on the floor.

# Chapter 3

When her consciousness returned, she was coughing and her eyes burned. She raised up and looked around. The whole front of the room was ablaze. She knew she had to get out. But how? She crawled along to the bathroom dragging her purse with her. Once inside she shut the door and pulled a towel down from the rack to put it along the bottom to block the smoke. It helped but smoke still crept in around the door.

She used the toilet to pull herself to her feet. The window! She unlocked it but it wouldn't budge. She looked around for something to pry with and saw nothing useful. Racked with a fit of coughing, she had to hold her ribs. She guessed they were broken.

Maybe she could find something in her purse. She began digging as the first flames ate through the door. Her hand wrapped around the handle of a screwdriver. She'd forgotten to take it out and put it away. Thank God for that. She pried the window up as high as she could and managed to push it the rest of the way.

Coughing racked her body using up precious time. She could feel the heat from the blaze. She dropped her purse, shoes and jacket outside. Standing on the toilet, she managed to get a foot on the window sill. She leaned forward to catch hold of the window frame with her uninjured right hand and moved to where she was squatting on the window sill. Pain shot through her rib cage, leaving her gasping. There was no way she could fit through the window that way.

She could hear sirens and men yelling. Careful not to lose her hold, she put one leg at a time through the window until she sat on the sill. The window was too small for her to just slide off without hitting her head. In a race against the fire, she scooted around until she was on her stomach. She slid backward a little bit until she teetered with the sill just below her bust.

Arms closed around her legs. She let out a squeal.

"It's okay. I gotcha," said a male voice. "Just let go." He eased her down until she was outside. "Get her shoes an' stuff."

Amy realized there was another firefighter close beside them. "Just get her away from here," a woman's voice ordered. "I have her things."

He carried her to the parking lot where Jean Sedder slipped her shoes on her feet. The male firefighter stood her down. "Get her away from here. There should be an ambulance out on the street."

Jean helped Amy with her jacket. "We'll just button it around you and you can rest your arm on it."

Amy could scarcely breathe due to the pain in her ribs; pain that became excruciating when she coughed. She stumbled along beside Jean toward the ambulance along the street. They were almost there when the ambulance pulled away.

"Hey, Bill," Jean said into her radio. "What's up with the ambulance?"

"Left with an injured man who was in the room next to the fire."

"We need another. I have a wounded woman who needs oxygen now."

"The paramedics are still here. They should have oxygen."

Amy began coughing and collapsed to the tarmac. "Bill, I need some help. She just went down."

A whisper was all Amy could manage. "I'm sorry. I just can't go on."

Jean patted her shoulder. "Don't you worry. Help is on the way. Here come two strapping big paramedics who can carry you."

They set Amy inside the open back door of the truck that carried their equipment. One placed an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. "Try to take some deep breaths."

"My ribs. Pain."

He felt along her ribs. "Probably broken. Here comes your chariot to take you to the ER."

****

"You can't come in here." The nurse held the hospital gown up in front of Amy who was stripped to the waist.

Albert flashed his badge and ID. "This woman is under arrest..."

"I don't care. She hasn't even seen the doctor yet and she has some serious injuries. She'll definitely need X-rays."

"Sir, if you will just move I'd like to see this patient." The doctor was smaller than Amy with short blonde hair. "Go to the waiting room."

They argued a few minutes with the doctor crowding him away from the curtained off space. He finally relented and left the ER. The doctor returned to Amy. She held out her hand. "I'm Dr. Faber. What happened?"

While the doctor examined her, Amy described the explosion and what she did to escape the burning building. "Sergeant Albert seems to think I deliberately blew up my own car."

"I need X-rays of your left shoulder, arm and ribs. I'm reasonably certain your ribs are broken. I won't know about your shoulder and arm until I see the X-rays. I'll have Gloria take you back."

"I'd like to take my purse along." She wasn't about to tell them she had a gun in it.

"Dr. Faber," Amy asked, "Do you know anything about an old man who was hurt in the explosion? I'd like to know how he's doing."

"They took him right into surgery. He's seriously injured. Once he's stabilized, they'll probably air lift him to the Lehigh Valley Burn Unit."

"May I have something for pain?" Amy asked.

"Certainly. Just as soon as you come back from Radiology. I need to write prescriptions for pain medicine and an inhaler to help get that smoke out of your lungs. We'll give you a breathing treatment before you go home."

The doctor was replaced by a tall hefty woman with brown skin. Her hospital ID read Gloria Albert. She helped Amy from the gurney to the wheelchair and began to push her toward a back hallway to the Radiology Department. "You are now in protective custody," she told Amy. "If Shawn Albert comes back here I'll put my number eleven up his skinny ass."

"Are you related to him?"

She chuckled. "By marriage. My husband and his daddy are brothers. He's a pompous struttin' peacock that tries to make folks think he knows more than he does."

"I haven't a clue as to why he has decided that I vandalized my own house and blew up my own car. Someone is trying to kill me and all he's doing is try to make it look like I'm the guilty one. It doesn't make sense. Why would I blow up my own car?"

After the X-raying was finished, Amy asked Gloria if there was a phone she could use to call her boss. Gloria pushed the wheelchair into a small cubicle and picked up the phone. She punched in a number to get an outside line and made sure Amy could reach the number pad. Amy keyed in her boss' number.

"Weller."

"Fred, this is Amy. I don't think I'm going to make it today."

"What the hell's going on up there? Wilkins and Betts are on their way to take over the investigation into the car bomb. Where are you?"

"I'm in the ER. I'm not hurt too bad so they'll probably release me after treatment. Sergeant Albert is waiting to arrest me as soon as I'm free to go."

"That's ridiculous! Amy, listen to me. You have the right to remain silent. Don't say anything to him. I'll get you a lawyer ASAP. Let him spin his wheels until she gets there. Her name's Briana Quillan. She's good. Just don't tell him anything. I'll be up there as soon as I can get away here."

"Thanks, Fred."

Amy hung up the phone and Gloria wheeled her back to the ER. After the breathing treatment, Gloria helped her into her clothes and set her in a wheelchair. Her left arm was in a sling.

"Is there someone here to take you home?" the nurse asked.

"No, but I'm certain there's a police car waiting to take me to the station. Let's get this over with."

Gloria pushed the wheelchair to the waiting room where Sgt. Albert stood up. Gloria glared at her nephew. "She's hurt pretty bad. You be sure you don't make it any worse."

Sgt. Albert stood in front of her and said, "Amy Hollister, you are under arrest for causing a catastrophe. You have the right to remain silent." As he put the cuffs on her he finished telling her rights to her, finishing with, "If you give up the right to remain silent anything you say can be used against you in a court of law."

Amy said nothing as Gloria pushed the wheelchair outside where a plain black car sat waiting. She helped Amy get settled in the back seat with a warning to her nephew not to hurt Amy. She closed the door and stepped back as Albert slid behind the wheel.

All the way to the station, Albert tried to get Amy to talk but she remained silent. She said nothing as she was led to the interrogation room where she refused to answer any of Albert's questions. She sat with her back straight looking right into Albert's eyes with an occasional glance at the camera.

He can't defeat me unless I allow him to. He just thinks he's the one in charge. He doesn't know that I am. She quietly ran those words through her mind over and over.

Albert shuffled through the papers in the folder he had laid out before him. "Why don't you just admit that you're doing this for the national attention it gets you?"

Amy glanced at her watch but said nothing.

Albert slammed his fist on the table. "Answer me!"

Amy jumped at his sudden outburst but she still didn't say anything. He scared her. She bit her lip thinking of all the things she wanted to say to him. She wanted to tell him what an ass he was and he was just digging himself a deeper hole. She had faith in Fred that he would get her a lawyer like he said. She just wished that lawyer would soon get there.

There was a tap on the door before it opened and in stepped a tall, beautiful woman with long dark hair and brown eyes. She wore a red blazer over a black skirt that didn't quite come down to her knees. She smiled at Amy but gave Albert a scowl. "Unlock the cuffs. Then get out of here so I can talk to my client. And turn off the camera."

Albert gave her a baleful look but he unlocked the cuffs and stalked out.

The woman held out her hand to Amy. "I'm Briana Quillan. Agent Weller called me to represent you. What are the charges against you?"

"Causing a catastrophe. He thinks I blew up my own car."

"Tell me about it. According to Fred you are being stalked?"

"Yes, where do you want me to start?"

"When the problem began."

"That goes back to when I was still in California."

"I've got nothing planned for today. Besides, the longer you take the more antsy Albert will become. What happened in California?"

Amy began her narrative with Mark's death. Briana didn't interrupt but made an occasional note in the yellow legal pad in front of her. When Amy's throat got dry Briana stepped out the door and asked someone to bring two cokes.

When Amy finished with the car bombing that morning, Briana stopped her. "I understand there are a couple ATF agents on the way up from Philadelphia to investigate the car bomb."

"I'm glad they're handling it," Amy returned. "I certainly wouldn't want Albert in charge."

Briana took out her cell phone. "I'm going to call the D.A. If he tries to prosecute this case, I'll bury him in his own dirt. They don't have a legal leg to stand on."

Briana explained the situation to the D.A. She was smiling when she disconnected. "We can walk out of here. No charges. Just let me do the talking."

It took Briana less than fifteen minutes to have Amy freed without bail. "I'll tell you, Captain," Briana said while Amy was putting her belongings back in her purse. "I intend to go after Albert for false arrest and unlawful restraint."

"Where's my gun?" Amy asked.

"We don't return guns to possible criminals," Capt. Lockland explained.

"Look, there is someone out there trying to kill me and you're want to take away my only protection. I want my gun. I have a permit to carry a concealed weapon anywhere in the U.S. I work for the FBI."

"Give her the gun," Briana ordered. "She was falsely accused and arrested. You had no right to take her weapon."

In a few minutes Amy's gun was given back to her. Briana looked from the captain to Albert. "I'm going to tell you in advance. We are going to sue you for false arrest and illegal restraint."

"And I'm telling you I'm going home," Amy cut in. "I want you to leave me alone. I can't even work right now. I have no car, cell phone and my laptop was in the briefcase that blew up with my car."

"I was justified in arresting you. I found bomb making information on your computer."

"I didn't put it there. I rarely use the computer at the house. That was my husband's computer. I usually used my laptop. I'm out of here."

Just as they turned around the elevator door opened and out stepped ATF Agents Trey Wilkins and Donald Betts.

Trey came right up to Amy. "What are they trying to do to you?"

Amy introduced the two agents to Briana. To Trey she added, "I didn't know you were in this part of the country. Did they kick you out of California?"

Trey gave her a cockeyed grin. "Why I'm here is classified. When I heard what happened up here I volunteered to look into it. Do you know Don? I don't know if he was ever in California when you worked in ATF. How do you like the FBI?"

"I like it. I got a raise and I now have classified clearance."

Capt. Lockland came over and introduced himself to the agents. Amy and Briana took the elevator to the first floor. "How did they ever decide to arrest you? You have some very important friends. That Wilkins is a hunk. But you're used to rubbing elbows with men like him, aren't you?"

"Trey's a good friend but I've never thought of him in a romantic sense."

Briana cast her a sideways glance. "Are you sure you've got all your buttons?"

Amy chuckled. "I was married when I knew Trey in California. Happily married. Will you please take me to a drugstore to get my prescriptions filled and then take me home?"

When she pulled into Amy's driveway, Briana asked, "Are you sure you'll be all right here alone?"

"With all that crime scene tape around my house, who will even know I'm here. I just want to take a pain pill and lie down. Thank you for all your help?"

Briana grinned at her. "Wait until you get my bill."

"Come inside and I write a check as a retainer until this business is settled."

"It will give me a chance to make sure no one is waiting to pounce on you the instant you open the door. And a chance to find out more about Agent Wilkins." As Briana waited for Amy to unlock the door, she stooped to pick up two newspapers from the porch.

"He's unlucky in love. Part of that is because he spends quite a bit of time undercover in various places around the country and even internationally. He told me every time he gets interested in a woman, she already has another fish on the line."

After Briana left, Amy took a Percocet and went to the living room where she lit the gas fireplace and sank down in the chair in front of it. She was just so tired of it all. She needed to get some rest so she could untangle her thoughts. She was sure she had made a new friend in Briana. It was good to have a friend who was a lawyer. She leaned back and closed her eyes as she felt the pain medicine taking affect.

# Chapter 4

"Damn." Sam turned over and reached for his cell phone. A glance at his alarm clock showed ten minutes past ten. "Elliot."

"You still asleep?" came Radcliff's voice. "Turn on your TV to the news."

"This better be important for you to call me on my day off." He found the remote under his pillow and turned on the TV. "What the hell?"

"It's just what it says it is. Someone blew up Amy's car."

Sam's heart stopped beating. He held his breath until the newscast showed Amy being taken from the hospital in handcuffs. "Albert's got to be out of his mind," he growled.

"We're going live," the anchorwoman said.

The scene changed to the sidewalk outside the police station. The camera panned to the door as two men exited the building. The taller of the two walked right up to the reporter and took the microphone. "I'm ATF Special Agent Trey Wilkins. Agent Betts and I have come to take over the investigation of the car bomb. I know Mrs. Hollister from when she worked with ATF in California. I have a difficult time believing the Amy had anything to do with that bomb. That's all for now." He gave the mic back to the reporter and followed the other agent across the street to a black Navigator.

Sam swung his legs over the side of his sofa bed and sat up, switching off the TV. He wandered off to the bathroom thinking about what Agent Wilkins had said. He knew Amy from California when she worked with the ATF. He filed it away in his mind for future reference.

After he dressed in jeans and tee shirt, he went to the kitchen in his small second-floor apartment to look for something to eat. Taking two slices of yesterday's pizza from the fridge, he put them on a plate and zapped them in the microwave. He filled the coffeemaker and turned it on as he mulled over what had happened to Amy. Was she still under arrest? Where was she? He went back to turn on the TV.

They were rerunning an earlier clip about Amy's release from custody showing her leaving the police station in the company of Briana Quillan. Sam knew Briana. She was his attorney for his divorce. He had dated her a few times but nothing ever came of it. They were still friends. He picked up his cell phone that still had her number in the memory. In the kitchen the microwave dinged.

Briana answered immediately. "Hello, Sam. What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me where Amy Hollister is."

"Give me a good reason."

"She's being stalked and no one is looking out for her. I thought I might help since I'm off for two days."

"You're still a cop."

"That's why I think I can help. Albert doesn't care about her. He just wants to make himself look big. I think this time it's going to backfire."

"Is that the reason you want to find Amy? So you can use her situation to get even with Albert?"

"You know me better than that, Briana. I'm concerned for her safety. Especially since someone tried to kill her this morning."

"She went home. Call her to make sure she knows you're coming or you might end up with a nine mil bullet in your carcass. She told me she knows how to use it. She passed the ATF firearms test and she has a permit to carry."

"First I want to go out to the crime scene and talk to those ATF agents. Then I'll stop at the hardware store for door bolts to make her house safer. I noticed Monday the doors don't have dead bolts."

"Sam, be kind to her. She's been through a lot," Briana cautioned.

"I know. I just want to help her. I also want to find the creep that's stalking her. Thanks, Briana. I owe you one."

"I'll take you up on that one. Find out what you can about that hunk of an ATF agent, Trey Wilkins. I'd like to go a couple of rounds with him."

"Sorry. If you have a romantic interest in Agent Wilkins you must do your own digging. I'm a cop, not cupid. Talk to you later."

Sam found Wilkins and Betts at the fire scene talking to the state police fire marshal. "Howdy, Dwayne," Sam said to the marshal. "Find anything interesting?"

"How she ever got out of this alive is beyond me. They tell me she crawled out the bathroom window."

"I can already tell you this is far too sophisticated for someone of Mrs. Hollister's knowledge to have made," Betts said from where he studied the remains of the car. "It had to be someone with an extensive knowledge of explosives."

"Which Amy doesn't have," Trey verified. "That Sergeant Albert doesn't know his ass from first base."

"I'll go along with that," Sam rejoined. He held his hand out to Trey. "Corporal Elliot. Don't tell my boss I'm here. I'm supposed to have the day off. I might as well tell you straight up that there's bad blood between Albert and me. He got a promotion that should have been mine. But that won't stop me from being impartial as far as the law goes. I think Amy Hollister is being stalked by someone who wants her dead but he wants to scare the hell out of her first. Probably someone who wants revenge for a real or imagined affront."

Trey frowned. "Maybe..."

"Maybe what?" Sam asked.

"Never mind. Something I have to check from when she worked for ATF in California. It's a little farfetched."

"If you know something, tell me," Sam said.

"I have to check to make sure I'm right. I don't like to make incorrect accusations."

Sam barked out a short laugh. "That's Albert's territory. See you fellows later. I'm going drop by and make sure Amy's safe. I don't like it that she's at home alone. Especially with her being hurt and possibly under the influence of pain killers." He headed for his truck.

Amy didn't answer Sam's attempt to call her. He was in and out of the hardware store as quickly as possible. She still didn't answer when he tried to call when he was parked in her driveway. He got out of his truck and walked up to the front door. He got no answer when he rang the doorbell so he pounded on the door. He was just about to pound on the door again when Amy answered.

"Who's there?" she called.

"Corporal Elliot. Open the door."

He heard the lock turn and the door opened. Amy stood there sleepy eyed with her dark brown hair tousled. "I was asleep," she mumbled and shuffled off to the bathroom.

"I brought lunch," Sam called after her. He went on to the kitchen and set the bag with the food on the table and the one with the hardware on the counter.

She came to the kitchen yawning as he was pulling the two subs from the bag. A bag of chips already lay on the table. He reached in the bag to pull out a six pack of Coke. "I hope you like cheese steaks."

"I normally don't eat much red meat but right now anything will do. I've had nothing to eat yet today but a few chips. The rest of them got blown up with my car. Along with my laptop. The fire finished off everything I had with me at the motel. I need to get a new cell phone. I need to call Mom, too. Just in case this goes national." She went to the fridge for a glass of milk. "I'm not much for soft drinks."

She sat down across from Sam at the glass-topped patio table that served as her kitchen table. Because Mark had bought it for her birthday, she'd brought the patio set from California in the U-Haul trailer.

Sam noted that she still wore the black pantsuit she had on in the newscasts. He could smell the smoke on her clothes. He decided to let her set the topic and pace of the conversation. He was already eating his sub as she carefully removed the wrapping from hers.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

He swallowed. "Came to check up on you. I noticed on Monday that your doors don't have dead bolts so I stopped at the hardware store and picked up some door bolts. It will make it more difficult for someone to get in when you're here." He took another bite of sandwich to give her a chance to talk but she was busy chewing.

After she swallowed, she asked, "How did you know where to find me?"

"Briana told me. She was my lawyer when I got a divorce. We're friends."

"I didn't think she would tell anybody."

Sam grinned. "I'm a cop. She trusts me or she wouldn't have said anything. I told her you're being stalked and I want to protect you. I can't do that if I don't know where you are." He reached over to open the bag of chips and pulled a handful out onto the table. Want some?"

Amy just nodded and reached for the bag. As she began coughing, she grabbed a napkin from the holder on the table to hold over her mouth.

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "You okay?'

She nodded. "I have an inhaler to help me get the smoke out of my lungs. It can't be too soon. Coughing is hard on broken ribs."

## ****

"Mom? It's Amy." Amy thought she sounded like a scared little girl. Maybe that's what she really was. "I just want you to know that if you need to call me, you will have to call me at home. I know longer have a cell phone."

"What happened to it?"

"Mom, someone is stalking me..."

"Oh, don't start with that stuff again..."

"Mom! Listen to me please. Someone tried to kill me this morning. He put a bomb in my car. If I hadn't forgot my cell phone and had to go back to get it, I would be dead. The blast was so strong it blew me clear across my motel room."

"Why are you staying at a motel?"

"Because my house is a crime scene. I decided to come home anyway." Amy knew she'd made a mistake in telling her mother that but it was already said and there was no way to take it back. She took a deep breath before plunging into the story of everything that had happened that week. It took fifteen minutes

Sam came from the kitchen drying his hands on a kitchen towel. "I'll go take that crime scene tape down."

"I just heard a man talking," her mother said.

"He's a cop, Mom. He's here to protect me."

"You're serious about being stalked, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm serious. Someone tried to kill me this morning. I don't understand why or even who it is."

"Do you want Dad and I to come to stay with you a while?"

"No, Mom. I don't think that's a good idea. The cops would have two more people to protect and they're stretched rather thin right now. Mom, there's someone at the door. I have to go." Amy stepped toward the door.

"I really think we should come. I'll talk to Dad about it."

"No, Mom. Listen to me! Please don't come." Amy opened the door to find Sam standing on the porch. "Mom, I have protection. There is a cop and an FBI agent here."

"FBI! How are they involved?"

"Mom, stop being so exasperating. I work for the FBI. My boss is here. I'm going to hang up now. Please don't come."

Agent Fred Weller motioned for Amy to give him the phone.

"Mom, Fred wants to talk to you. He's an FBI agent." She handed the phone to Fred.

"What's your mother's last name?" he asked softly.

"Clifford."

"Mrs. Clifford, this is FBI Special Agent Fred Weller. What Amy said makes sense. We aren't going to let anything bad happen to her. We'll keep you in the loop as far as developments. Now I have some business to talk about with Amy and Corporal Elliot. Have a good day." He listened a few minutes more, said yes a couple of times and then hung up. "I had to promise you'll call her everyday but I think I convinced her to stay in California."

"Mom is a control freak. If anything is happening, she wants to be the one in charge."

"Oh, is that where you got your stubborn streak?" Sam asked.

"I see you've already met my boss," Amy said.

"Amy, I'm going to take you to Philadelphia and put you in a safe house..." Fred shut up when Amy interrupted.

"I am not going anywhere! If you lock me away somewhere, he's just going to go underground until everything goes back to normal. Then he'll come after me again. I'm going to wait right here and when he's comes for me I'm going to shoot him."

"Just make sure it's self defense or it will be premeditated murder," Fred warned.

"I'll plead temporary insanity. Or maybe just plain insanity. I'm beginning to think I am crazy. If it wasn't so real..." She went to the kitchen for a pain pill. "I'm going to try to rest so maybe I'll stop hurting so bad."

Fred seated himself at her computer. "I'm going to transfer everything to a flash drive. Then I'm going to disconnect it from the phone and electricity."

"Certainly he can't have programmed the computer..."

"He could have," Sam interrupted. "When I checked out the basement the outside entrance wasn't locked."

Amy's eyes widened in fear. "It was locked when I looked at the property to buy it. I've haven't been down there since."

****

Sam sat in front of the gas fireplace reading the newspaper when Amy came to the living room after her nap. It was already dark outside. "Did you have a good nap?"

"Yes. Maybe it was because I felt safe with you here. I must get something to eat. I'm famished."

Sam stood up and laid the paper on the chair. "Coming right up. I had Marty pick something up. I didn't want to leave you here alone."

As they entered the kitchen, Amy inhaled deeply. "I smell fried chicken."

Sam already had the table set for two. He pulled a foil-covered baking dish from the oven. "I kept it warm. The potatoes and gravy, too." He placed a folded towel on the glass table top for the dish of chicken which he followed with mashed potatoes and gravy. "The coleslaw is in the fridge."

Amy ate heartily and so did Sam. "If I keep eating like this I'll get fat," Amy said.

Sam studied her. "You can afford to gain a few pounds." He stood up. "I'll put the dishes in the dishwasher."

Amy went to the living room and sat down in the swivel rocker in front of the gas fire. She was deep in thought when Sam came through with his duffel bag on his shoulder. She looked up and remarked, "You came prepared."

"I knew I'd be staying. If you won't go to a safe house, you'll need someone to protect you."

"So you're the self-appointed backup. I'm tired of running, of looking over my shoulder knowing someone is watching me but not knowing who he is or where he is. I just know he's out there somewhere watching."

"I'm going to shower. Then I want to talk about things. Maybe we can jog your memory to sort this out."

She gave him a hint of a smile. "You are the first cop that's listened to me. In California no one would believe me. Not even my own parents. My brother does. He just got back from Afghanistan."

"Army?"

"Yeah."

"I was in Iraq. Didn't get to Afghanistan. I was an MP." He turned away to the bathroom and soon Amy heard the water running. He came back smelling of a woodsy scent body wash. His strawberry blond hair fell forward over his brow.

He carried his bag to the corner beyond the couch and dropped it on the floor before coming back to stand in front of Amy. "Do you think maybe you can jog your memory? We know it began when you lived in California."

"Not tonight," she pleaded. "My inner stamina is nearly depleted." She held up her hand toward him with her thumb and index finger about an eighth of an inch apart. "I'm barely holding on by a thread."

"Okay. Tomorrow." He strolled over to the couch and sat down. "If there is anything I can do to help you, just say the word."

She gave him a weak smile but tears wet her lashes. She pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands and wiped her eyes. Standing up, she walked toward the couch. He stood up to meet her. When she stood before him, she said in a very small voice, "I need a hug."

He pulled her into his arms and held her close. She encircled him with her arms and clung to him like a drowning man to a life preserver. Until she felt a lump creeping up between them. She moved back a half step. "You're getting hard."

"I'm a man and the way you were pressing your boobs against me..."

Amy took a full step back and looked up at him. Catching him off guard, she shoved against his chest. He landed in a sitting position on the couch.

She stepped ahead and leaned over him. Without a word she straddled him and kissed him.

"Look, woman, if you push me past the point of no return you'll have to suffer the consequences."

Her answer was to kiss him harder. His arms went around her and he kissed her back.

She leaned back to say, "Just remember I have broken ribs." Then they were kissing again and Sam let his hands roam over her back and under her sweatshirt.

She nipped him on the ear and whispered hoarsely, "Bed."

With his hands under her buttocks, he lifted her as he stood up and carried her to the bedroom.

# Chapter 5

The cold woke Amy. Sam had turned away during the night and took the covers with him. Shivering, she levered herself into a sitting position and got slowly to her feet. The light was still on. Every fiber of her body ached. She wrapped her cream-colored fleece robe around her and stumbled off to the bathroom. When she came out, Sam stood leaning against the wall, wearing just a pair of black boxer briefs.

"I'll make coffee," she mumbled and headed for the kitchen. Usually she filled the coffeemaker the night before and set the timer before going to bed. Last night she had other things on her mind. With the coffeemaker set she went out to get the newspaper from the front porch.

As usual, the paper boy, didn't throw it hard enough. She stepped outside, the concrete cold against her bare feet. Pain shot through her ribs as she bent to pick the rolled up newspaper from the dew wet grass. She slid the plastic sleeve from the paper as she went back up the steps. On the front page was a picture of her with Briana leaving the police station.

She had left the door open and as she turned to go inside she let out a cry of surprise. She stepped back against the wrought iron railing around the porch.

Sam heard her and came running. He stepped out on the porch. She pointed behind him. He turned around to see the dead rat hanging from the doorknob. Beside it was a note tacked to the door. "Lose the cop or you're both dead."

He grasped Amy's arm and pulled her inside and closed the door. Amy leaned back against the door and began giggling.

"I don't see anything funny about it," he said.

"Go look in the full length mirror. You went outside like that."

He looked down at the front of him. All he wore was his shorts. Half his face was lathered with shaving foam. He grinned and stepped forward. Leaning down he kissed her getting the white foam on her face.

She pulled away. "Go! Finish what you were doing. You left the water running. I have to pay for that." She scooted past him to go to the bed room to dress.

She was cold so she pulled on turquoise sweat pants and a black sweater. The gas fireplace was still burning in the living room but it wasn't enough to heat the whole house. She needed to call someone to come clean and start the furnace. She kept putting it off. Just like she put off buying a washer and dryer and other furniture. Most of what she'd brought from California was still packed away in boxes. It would wait until her ribs healed now.

A coughing fit brought to the fore just how badly she was injured. She hugged her ribs till the coughing ceased and went to look for her inhaler. In the kitchen she poured herself a mug of coffee, added milk and sugar and sat down at the table to drink it.

Sam came from the bathroom freshly shaven and dressed in a dark gray tee shirt and jeans. He took a mug from the cupboard and got a coffee before sitting down across from her. "So where do we go from here?"

"I have to go to the Laundromat if you'll take me."

"That wasn't what I was referring to. After last night. Are we a couple? In a relationship? One night stand?"

She stirred her coffee and watched the light brown liquid swirl around in the mug. Looking up to meet his gaze, she replied, "I don't know. I do know I slept better last night with you beside me."

"You've got to give me more than that. I'm walking a fine line here. You are a crime victim and I am a cop."

"I'm sorry. That was very selfish of me. I didn't mean to compromise your job. I just needed someone..."

"I know that or I wouldn't have let it go so far. But we really should define our status. Yes or no? We can't just ignore it and pretend it didn't happen."

"Do you want to be a couple?" she asked timidly. "We really don't know each other very well."

A grin spread across his face and his blue eyes lit up. "Why don't we give it a try and see how it turns out. It will give me a reason to be around to take care of you. If I lose my job..." He shrugged. "I was looking for a job before I took this one."

"I don't want to cost you your job." She gave him a weak smile. "I might be able to get you into the FBI."

"I'd better go remove that rat from your front door. The neighbors will think someone was playing Halloween tricks." He stood up and looked around. "I need one of those plastic grocery bags. Oh, here's one from yesterday."

"How do you like your eggs?" Amy carried her mug to the counter.

"Over easy." He opened the door and stood back. Another rat hung from the door knob. "He wanted to be sure we get the message. No note here."

"Close that door and get that rat out of my kitchen!" Amy ordered.

****

Sam climbed the back stairs to the third floor where Sgt. Albert's desk was located. Albert wasn't at his desk so Sam printed a note in large letters on a sheet of copy paper along with the bag of rats and the threatening note inside a plastic baggie.

Taking the elevator one floor down he knocked on the door of the chief's front corner office. Erikson looked up and motioned Sam in.

"Have a seat, Elliot, and tell me what's on your mind. If it's about Albert I don't want to hear it. I've already told him he walks the straight and narrow or he goes. At least Quillan agreed not to sue the department but she is going after Albert."

"What I have to say only affects Albert marginally. It's about Amy Hollister. I'd like you to assign me to protect her."

"Let her employer protect her."

"Fred offered. She turned him down."

"Why?"

"The stalker will only go underground. When things settle down, he'll come back. Possibly without warning. She wants to set herself up as bait. She'll need someone to watch her back."

Erikson leaned forward. "We do not have enough personnel for that."

"Then suspend me, preferably with pay."

"I can't do that without cause."

"How about sleeping with a crime victim."

"Dammit, Elliot! What's happened to your common sense?"

"I only a man, chief. She's a very lovely woman. The sex act can be very comforting and she needed to be comforted. She is the one that initiated it. Here comes Albert. He's going to raise hell because of the evidence I left on his desk."

Shawn Albert burst into the office without knocking. "You bastard!" he yelled at Sam. "You put those dead rats on my desk."

Sam suppressed a smile. "You told me you wanted every scrap of evidence on your desk. Those rats were hanging on the outside of Amy's doorknobs this morning along with the note I left."

"What note?" the chief demanded.

"It said," Sam began. " 'Get rid of the cop or you're both dead.' I take that as a threat to myself as well as Amy."

"Elliot," the chief said gruffly, "you are suspended with pay until you are told otherwise. The next time, keep your pants on."

"Yes, sir." Sam grinned and walked out.

****

"No sense in getting so pissy about it," Sam said as he stopped for a red light. "I did it for you. You can't handle this alone. At least you'll have someone to watch your back." He pulled into the parking lot at the supermarket. "You are going along in. You are not going to sit out here in the open."

Sam got out and walked around to open the door for her and help her down from the four-wheel-drive truck. She slung her purse on her right shoulder. "I don't even have a list." She strode off to the entrance with Sam trailing behind her.

He watched how her hips moved when she walked. Better not go there right now. I can't go shopping with a hard on. He stepped up to pull a cart out of the line for her. She took it and socked her purse down on the child seat. He followed her around letting her choose what to buy. She would buy with an eye for nutrition where he would buy for convenience. He knew the basics of cooking like how heat a frozen dinner in the microwave and to dish out ice cream. He could fry eggs and a few other things like mixing up mashed potato flakes.

When they came around to the checkout lines, Sam noticed a couple of squad cars parked outside the door. As the uniformed officers came through the door a woman met them and pointed at Sam, who read her lips. "Right there. That's him. He's got a gun."

"Yes, ma'am," the cop returned. "That's because he's an off duty police officer."

"Is there a problem, Roger?" Sam called out.

"No, Sam, there isn't." He turned and walked out with the woman following him trying to apologize.

Sam was grinning when he went back to pull the cart through the checkout line and load the groceries onto the conveyor belt. With the back seat in the king cab truck loaded with groceries and laundry, Sam guided the truck into traffic. "You're still mad at me, aren't you?"

Amy drew a long sigh. "Sam, I understand your reasoning. I just don't like it that you told anyone. It's not like I fall into bed with the first man that comes along."

"Amy, I know you aren't that kind of woman. Just in case you're wondering, I don't fall into bed with just any woman. You're the first since my divorce. I dated Briana for a while. We never got to the fall-into-bed stage. We ended up on opposite sides in the courtroom in a case where I was the arresting officer. She ripped me apart. She raised questions about my integrity and competence as a police officer. She apologized later but what good does it do for her to say she's sorry privately when she said those things in a public trial? It took a while before we were on friendly terms again."

"I would never have thought she would do something like that," Amy commented.

"She's a good lawyer. A good criminal lawyer. Some of her clients are less than upstanding citizens. She knows how to use the truth to her advantage. She gets paid well, too."

The conversation lapsed until Sam pulled in at a gas station to fill the truck's tank. While he pumped the gas he scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. When he got back in the truck, he said, "Always look around to see if anyone is watching you. We need to figure out who this guy is. What's his Achilles' heel? If we manage that the battle's halfway won. It's always easier if you know who your adversary is. If you have some idea what makes him tick."

He pulled in the driveway and parked in the carport next to the kitchen door. "Stay in the truck while I check things out," he ordered, locking the doors when he got out.

He noticed a bit of powder on the doorstep; powder he'd sprinkled on the floor inside the door. He used the key Amy had given him and drew his gun before entering the house. There was a shoe print in the powder inside the door but it was smudged so that a clear print couldn't be gotten. However, they could measure the print and get some idea the size of the man who left it. He noted specific items he'd left in particular positions before they left. The chair he'd left pulled out was pushed back to the table.

Sam went through every room. In the bathroom, he found a toothpaste message on the large mirror above the double sink vanity: Amy, I'm coming for you. I'm going to get your lover-boy cop friend, too. Sam heard a footstep at the bathroom door. He jerked his gun up and whirled around.

"Dammit, woman! I told you to stay in the truck. I could have shot you." He jammed his gun back in its holster.

"It's my house!" she protested. "I felt too vulnerable sitting out there." She stepped past him so she could see the writing on the mirror. "Bastard!"

Sam took out his cell and scrolled down to the chief's number. "This is Sam Elliot. While we were away the perp left a calling card on the bathroom mirror. Will you send a Crime Scene Unit? I don't know if they'll find anything useful or not." Sam listened a while and then disconnected.

He led Amy to the swivel rocker in front of the fire place and lit the gas fire. "Stay there until the CSU leaves. I'll bring the groceries to the kitchen and put the perishable stuff in the fridge. Just stay put!"

CSU didn't find anything useful except the size of the shoe print. Albert showed up and asked some questions. Sam stood leaning in the doorway to the living room listening in case Albert said anything out of order.

After they left, Amy came and laid her head against his chest. He encircled her in an embrace and just held her until she stepped back. "I feel so...so violated!" she said.

With his arm around her, he guided her to the kitchen and set her down at the table. "I'll get us something to eat."

She stood up. "I'll do that. First I need to put the non-perishable things away." They worked together on it with Sam constantly asking "Where does this go?"

While Sam fried sandwich steaks, Amy tossed a salad and put it on the table with the salad dressings she had: ranch, French and thousand island. They had just sat down to eat when the phone rang.

"I'll get it." Sam stood up and went to the living room. He came back with the phone. "It's your brother."

Amy said yes and no a couple of times and pressed the off button. "He wanted to know if you are my 'cop friend.' "

Sam shot her a grin. "Was that a yes or a no?"

"Yes. At least I hope you're my friend and you are a cop." She swallowed a pain pill with the milk left in her glass. "I'm going to lie down a while. I place myself under your protection."

# Chapter 6

Amy slept until five o'clock. Enticing smells drew her to the kitchen. Sam was just taking a casserole from the oven. "I hope that tastes as good as it looks and smells."

He smiled as he set the casserole on the counter next to the stove. "It's just tuna and noodles. One of Mom's concoctions from when she didn't have time to cook a regular meal. I didn't know if I should wake you or let you sleep. There's salad fixings in the fridge."

"I slept quite well, thank you. I feel safe with you here. I was almost afraid to close my eyes before." He held the chair for her to sit down. "If this is one of your mother's quick meals, what constitutes a "regular" meal?"

Sam chuckled. "Mom was raised Amish. She sure does know how to cook tasty, filling meals that stick to the ribs so you can work."

"I can just imagine eating like that. It would probably stick to the waistline, too." She took a forkful of the noodlely mixture. "Um-um! What else do you know how to cook?"

"That's about it. Most of my cooking comes in a box with directions on the side. But I know how to shoe a horse. Dad's a blacksmith as well as a farmer."

"Is he Amish, too?"

"Mennonite. We don't farm with horses. Tractors. We don't even own any horses. Dad just does the blacksmithing. A lot of his work is equipment fabrication and modification. What about your folks?"

"Mom owns and operates a fashion boutique. She's also a member of the city council. Dad's a banker. Mom's a control freak. She entered me in a dance class when I was four. I hated it. She expected me to be perfect. When we had our graduation, she dressed me up like Little Bo-peep. She had my hair done up in curls. I snuck outside and stood in the rain until I was soaked through. She was so mad she slapped me. I had a bruise on my cheek.

"But she wasn't going to give up. When I was five she started me out in gymnastics. I liked it until we had to perform in front of an audience. I was so afraid I'd do something wrong and she'd hit me again. Because I was so nervous, I really screwed up. Dad tried to tell her I was too young but she wouldn't listen. I cried a lot.

"She was the same way with my brother. Only with him it was sports. He played baseball, soccer and football. I was built too slight to play sports. Then she got the notion to put me in beauty pageants. I was only seven. I simply refused to cooperate. She finally gave up on me."

****

They took things easy on Friday. While Amy napped in the afternoon, Sam went outside to walk around the property and familiarize himself with the lay of the land. It was always best to know where everything was. Just beyond the flagstone patio was a big maple tree that had shed most of its leaves which lay strewn over the lawn. The ground was fairly flat. On each side of the lawn was a row of arborvitae trees that blocked the view of the neighboring house on the east side and the side street on the west.

Back by the alley was a storage shed. It wasn't locked so Sam slid the door open. The shed was empty. He looked around for signs that it might have been used as a hiding place but it seemed not to have been disturbed. Sam slid the door back shut and fastened the hasp in place just as a big dog came running around the trees barking.

A man that followed him yelled, "You, there. What are you doing on Mrs. Hollister's property?"

Sam turned around slowly and stood still with his hands shoulder high, palms out. "Does he bite?"

"If you give him a reason." The man, who looked to be in his fifties, walked up to face Sam. "I asked you a question. You're wearing a gun!"

Sam reached to the breast pocket of his denim jacket and took out his badge and ID. "Corporal Samuel Elliot." He passed the leather folder to the man.

"Oh, hell. I know you. I didn't recognize you without the uniform. Name's Jack Kerr." He held out his hand and Sam shook it. "Dog's name is Rex. Rex, sit! He's one of the good guys."

"How do you know me?" Sam asked.

"I'd guess there are a lot of people around this town that know you but you don't know them. I saw on TV about Mrs. Hollister being arrested. That damn fool Albert must be out of his mind to arrest her. She's works for the FBI, you know."

"I know. She should be in protective custody but she refused to leave her home. That's why I'm here. How good is Rex as a guard dog?"

"Pretty good. When he barks I know to pay attention."

Sam quickly made friends with the dog and roughed him around a little. "He sure is big."

"Aw. He's just a big puppy at heart. He likes to play but he can get a little rough at times. He's getting along in years. Slowing down a little. Like me."

"Have you noticed anyone messing around Amy's house this past week?"

"There was a fellow asking questions about how to find a Mary Loost. I told him Mrs. Hollister wasn't home but he went over and rang the bell anyway. Never heard of the woman he was looking for. I figured he was on the wrong street. Didn't see anything more of him."

"Can you describe him?"

"About six feet tall. A little bit stocky. Gray hair and full beard. Dark framed glasses. Dressed casual. Plaid shirt, gray slacks and a gray sweater. Put me in mind of a college professor I knew once.

"Now Monday afternoon there was a blue car parked back here in the alley but I didn't see anybody around. Out of state license plate."

"California?"

"Can't rightly say. Maybe. What's going on? Why are you here? There's something you aren't telling me."

"All I'll tell you is that Amy is being stalked. The bastard blew up her car Wednesday morning. If she hadn't gone back for her cell phone, she would have been in the car when it blew." Sam glanced at his watch. "I guess I'd better go back inside. I don't want her to wake up scared because I'm gone. I'm going to feed the information you gave me into the computer and see if I can learn anything new."

"If you need anything I'm right on the other side of these trees. Just give a holler."

Sam was seated at the computer when Amy came from the bedroom. "What are you up to?" she asked when she saw him at the computer.

"Six two the last time I was measured."

"Oh, you. that's not what I meant."

He grinned. "I met your neighbor, Mr. Kerr. He gave me a little bit of information and a possible description. I'm sending it to the station to be put in your file. I'll unhook the computer again when I'm finished."

She sat down in the rocker and picked up the remote to the fireplace. "It's chilly in here."

"Sun's going down. It's getting colder outside. They're predicting frost for tonight."

"Is there anything to eat or do I have to cook?"

"You know more about what you bought than I do." He shut the computer down and stood up, stretching and yawning. "Maybe I should have taken a nap. I'm not used to getting up so early."

Amy got up and headed for the kitchen. "I'll make supper. It's going to be something quick. Why did you let me sleep so long?"

"I figured you need the rest." He followed along behind her. "Is there anything you want me to do?"

She turned around, leaning against the sink. "Just stay out of my way."

He moved in front of her and put his hands on the sink penning her in. "Maybe if you give me a little kiss."

"Look, officer..." His lips silenced her. The kiss deepened and she slid her arms around his neck. When she pulled back, she said, "If you want supper..."

"What are you having for dessert?"

"What do you have in mind?"

He leaned to kiss her again. "Maybe I don't want to wait. Make it the main course."

"Sam Elliot, will you get out of my kitchen? I am hungry and I want to make some supper."

****

When the meal was over and the kitchen put back in order, Amy said, "I'm going to have a good soak in the tub. Maybe the hot water will help ease the pain."

Sam grinned down at her, "Want me to wash your back?"

"I have a feeling I'd get more than a back rub. Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not ready for a romp in the tub yet. Maybe another time." She went to the bedroom for her robe. As soon as she entered the bathroom, she saw what Sam had been doing while she made supper. All the fixtures and tile gleamed. Even the toilet was sparkling clean. "God bless you, Sam Elliot," she murmured.

She poured in lavender scented bubble bath as she ran the water in the tub. Easing herself down into the bubbles, she breathed in the flowery scent and felt the warmth of the water. "Umm." The heat soaked into her battered body. She really did need to find someone to clean and start the gas furnace in the basement. The fireplace was fine but it didn't heat the whole house. She'd check the yellow pages on Monday. She wondered how long she needed to take off work. She didn't have a car anymore and she was sure she wouldn't be able to drive all the way to the city the way her ribs hurt.

She decided to think about it later and turned her thoughts to Sam. She was sure she wasn't in love with him, but he made her feel comfortable and safe. Once the stalker was caught, where would their relationship go then? They needed to talk about it. She knew he was divorced but she didn't know why. She didn't even know if he divorced his wife or the other way around. Don't even go there, she warned herself. If he wanted her to know he would tell her.

She told him her life history and all he'd told her was that his parents were Amish-Mennonite, his mother was a good cook, and his father was a blacksmith. Not much information there. How could she get to know him if he didn't talk about himself? How did the son of Amish-Mennonite parents become a police officer? Weren't his parents opposed to violence?

He lay on the couch watching television when she came from the bathroom swathed in her fleecy, cream-colored robe. He smiled and sat up as she sat in the rocker by the fire. He turned off the TV and came to sit on the floor beside her. "Bath help?"

"Um-hum. Thanks for cleaning the bathroom. She surely needs to have her head examined."

"Who?"

"Your ex. Any woman who gives up a man who is willing to clean the toilet is not thinking straight."

"I'm the one who needs his head examined. That was a marriage that never should have happened. It was doomed from the start."

She reached out and brushed a strand of strawberry blond hair from his forehead. "Want to talk about it.?"

"Not really. She really hurt me deep. When it was all over I promised myself I would never let a woman get that close to me again. Now..."

"Now what?"

He just shook his head and looked down at the rug but she could tell his thoughts were turned inward. "She cheated on me when I was in Iraq. All the emails I got from her were lies. But that wasn't the worst of it. I didn't know about it until after the divorce. She wanted to hurt me even more. She told me she was pregnant when I went overseas. She moved to Philly and went back to her maiden name. When the baby was born, she gave it up for adoption. I felt like killing her.

"I didn't believe her so I looked up her best friend. She confirmed Lynn's story. The baby was a girl. According to Jo, she didn't give the baby up for adoption, she sold her. God, it made me sick to think that I once believed I loved that woman."

"Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry!"

"Briana gave me the name of a private investigator in Philly. She uses him for her cases. Name's Joshua Turner. He's trying to find my daughter. It's a cold trail so I don't have much hope. I don't even know her name. There's nowhere to start. He did talk to Lynn who refused to cooperate and Jo who isn't a credible witness. Still I'm clinging to one little thread of hope."

"I may be able to help once I get back to work. The FBI has a very wide data base."

He gave her a weak smile. "I'll take all the help I can get. My daughter should be about nine

years old by now."

"We'll find her, Sam."

"Don't make promises you can't keep. I'm going to take a shower."

Amy got up and walked to the computer desk where she picked up the phone. As she went back to her chair she keyed in Fred's cell number. When he answered, she told him all that Sam had told her. "Can we help him find his daughter?"

"Amy, just hold onto that for a while. We are clandestinely investigating a number of so-called clinics that take care of unwed mothers and then sell the babies for adoption to parents who have been turned down for legally adopting a child for whatever reason. This is a nationwide baby selling organization. Once we put a lid on it, we may be able to find something in their records if they even keep records. This is classified so don't tell anyone, not even Sam."

****

Sam opened his eyes and lay still. The room wasn't dark. He sniffed. Gasoline! "Oh, God!" The room was dimly lit with an orange glow from outside. "Amy! Amy, wake up! The house is on fire!"

Amy's eyes popped open. "What?"

"The house is on fire! Get your ass out of bed and get something on. We've got to get out of here!" Sam pulled on his jeans and jammed his bare feet into his sneakers. He didn't bother with a shirt.

Amy turned completely around before bending down to pick her robe from the floor. She slipped her feet into her pink fuzzy slippers and grabbed the strap to her purse which she had sitting by the bed because her gun was in it.

Sam clipped his gun to his jeans and headed for the door. "Come on! Move it!" He headed back the hall toward the east door. As he grasped the knob, he yanked his hand back. "It's hot! We need to find another way out." He seized Amy's arm and pulled her along. "There's fire outside the front door, too. The bastard must have set the fire all around the house."

Amy paused at the coffee table to grab Sam's keys and his wallet which she jammed in her purse.

In the kitchen, one look out the window told him his truck was on fire. "That gas tank is full. It'll blow sky high." He ripped the fire extinguisher from its mount by the door to the basement and aimed it at the fire that spread across the kitchen floor. The arsonist had broken a pane from one of the French doors and poured gasoline onto the ceramic tiles.

Sam used the fire extinguisher to put out the fire and to break the glass and framework to one of the doors. "Get out of here," he ordered. "Don't stop until you are safely away. I'm right behind you."

They were crossing the flagstone patio when the truck blew, sending a fireball fifty feet in the air. While the house blocked some of the blast it was not enough protection. The force of the explosion came through the kitchen and lifted both Sam and Amy from their feet. They landed in a bed of leaves as a hail of flaming debris fell around them.

Sam stumbled to his feet and lifted Amy to hers just as gunfire came from the corner of the yard near the alley. "The son-of-a-bitch was waiting for us! Go!"

Sam couldn't hear the gunshots because of the ringing in his ears but he could see the muzzle flashes. He yanked his gun from the holster and fired back, emptying the clip. He felt the burning pain in the muscle of his right arm and knew he'd been hit. "Give me your gun," he commanded. "Mine's empty. Get as far from this fire as you can. There's live ammo in there."

"I lost my slippers," Amy cried.

"Just go! The leaves are already burning. Move." No more shots came from the alley. Apparently the assailant had left or had sought another position.

When they reached the sidewalk at the end of the row of trees that separated Amy's property from Kerr's, they turned to look back. "Come away," Sam said in a gentler tone than he'd used earlier.

As they turned away from the fire, Sam saw a flashlight in the yard on the other side of the trees. "Go ahead," he told Amy. "I'll catch up. Get as far from that fire as you can." Sam turned toward the light. "Jack, is that you?"

"Yeah. The son-of-a-bitch shot Rex."

"Don't move him," Sam said as he walked up. "He's part of a crime scene now."

"You figure they might be able to get a hit on the bullet?"

"Possible."

Jack straightened and turned toward Sam. "My God, man. You're bleeding. You aren't even wearing a shirt."

"I was only thinking about getting Amy out of there." They walked back toward the sidewalk.

"Just wait a minute. I know you're too big for any of my clothes but I can get you a blanket. And a bandage for your arm."

"We can't piddle around with that. We've got to get people evacuated in case there is another explosion from the natural gas. Will you call 911? My cell phone is probably toast by now."

Sam walked on to the sidewalk where he found Amy waiting. "I told you to get away from this fire. There could be a gas explosion not to mention bullets flying. No go!"

"You've been shot!"

"Look, woman. Get away from this fire. I don't have time. I need to get people evacuated. Just walk on to the next block."

Kerr came out with a pad of gauze and a wide band of tape to bandage Sam's arm. He also brought a pair of heavy socks for Amy. "They aren't shoes but they should help keep your feet warm."

Sam pointed down the street. "Go!"

"What about you? You're wounded."

"Jack and I are going to start evacuating the neighbors. Help should be arriving soon."

Kerr gave Sam a stadium blanket to put around his shoulders. "I'll take that side of the street and you can take this side. There is no one in my house. This wind's going to blow the fire into those trees on the other side of the house."

"Here comes a squad car." Sam stepped out on the street and flagged it down. "Marty. Go the park across far end of the next block. Then go door to door and tell the residents to get out. To move away from the fire. If you find any gawkers that won't move on, arrest them."

Sam tucked the corners of the blanket in his waistband so he could have his hands free. His arm hurt like hell but he was a cop first, a gunshot victim second. He started knocking on doors and telling onlookers to clear out or be arrested.

# Chapter 7

"Do you know if they brought the wounded police officer in?" Amy asked the nurse who helped her out of her robe and into a hospital gown.

"I haven't seen a cop. What's his name?"

"Sam Elliot."

"No. Sam isn't here. How is he wounded?"

"Gunshot wound to his upper right arm. Do you know Sam?"

The nurse smiled. "I know all the local cops and quite a few state troopers. Sooner or later they show up wanting to talk to some accident victim or criminal. Occasionally they even show up as patients. Haven't seen Sam tonight."

She fastened a blood pressure cuff around Amy's arm and pushed the button on the monitor to inflate it.

"I told you I can walk in under my own power. I don't need a wheelchair."

The nurse chuckled. "That's Sam. I recognize his voice." She peeked around the curtain. "Hi, Sam. Don't give us any trouble or we'll sedate you."

"Like hell. Have you seen Amy Hollister?"

"She's right here behind me."

Sam pulled loose from the EMT and stepped around the curtain. He slipped his left arm around Amy and pulled her close. "How are you?"

"I'm okay. You better let them fix up your arm." To Amy's surprise, he dropped a kiss on her lips before he turned back to the EMT who had brought him in.

Amy's face turned scarlet as she looked at the nurse who pretended she didn't see what she did. "I think I better do that blood pressure over." She popped a thermometer in Amy's mouth and held her wrist to check her pulse. "I'll check that again after your heart calms down. He sure is one sexy dude."

"I owe him my life," Amy said. "If he hadn't woke up when he did and got us out of that house, Neither of us would be here now."

"I'll be back," the nurse said before leaving Amy alone.

The reality of what had happened was hitting Amy hard and she couldn't stop the tears. All she had was gone except what was in her purse. She wondered if the contents of the safe survived the fire. She needed to get out to the ruins of her house as soon as she could. First, she needed to buy some clothes. She couldn't go parading around in her robe and bare feet. She wondered if they would allow her to keep the hospital gown she wore. It would cover the front of her and her robe would cover the back.

Movement on the other side of the curtain drew her attention as Briana's head looked around the curtain. "Hi, Amy. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay. Sam got shot though."

"I know. Trey got a call from Fred. He's back talking to Sam."

Amy's eyebrows went up. "You and Trey?"

Briana grinned as she quirked a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "You and Sam?" They both chuckled. Briana gave Amy her reason for being there. "I figure you'll need some clothes. I came to ask you about sizes."

"I'll give you a check..."

"Banks aren't open yet. I'll pay and you can pay me back. It will have to wait a bit. I came with Trey and don't have my own car. After we take you and Sam to Sam's apartment, I'll have Trey take me home. From what I could make out of a one-sided conversation, Trey is in charge of the investigation. They sent another agent out on the undercover assignment Trey was supposed to be on. He is definitely good undercover."

When Trey stopped in the parking lot to the apartment building where Sam lived, Sam got out of the SUV stiffly and walked around to open the door and help Amy down. Briana looked over her shoulder. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Take good care of her, Sam."

Sam waved and closed the door. With an arm around Amy's shoulders, he guided her toward the bottom of the black steel stairway that led to his second-floor apartment. "I'll have to get Norma's key."

"I have your keys in my purse." Amy stopped and began to dig. "Your wallet, too. They lay on the coffee table and I grabbed them when I passed."

"Bless your little ole heart." He leaned to kiss her just as he heard someone rapping on the window.

Norma opened the window and called to him. "What kind of trouble did you find to get into this time?"

"I didn't find it; it found me. Don't tell me it hasn't already been all over the news."

"I've been worried ever since I heard a cop got shot and that Amy's house burned down. I put two and two together..."

"It's just a flesh wound. I've got to get Amy upstairs before she freezes."

"You two behave yourselves up there." With that she lowered the sash and locked the window.

As soon as they were in the door, Sam turned to Amy and pulled her into his arms. "Go ahead and cry. It will make you feel better."

She let her purse slide to the floor and laid her head on his bare chest. Someone had given him a jacket that was a size too small and he couldn't get it zipped.

He guided her to the folded out sofa bed and sat down beside her. He held her until she stopped weeping.

"I'm sorry." She swiped at the tears with her hands. Aware that the belt to her robe had come loose, she stood up and straightened her robe and tightened the belt.

Sam stood up beside her. "I need to take a shower and get dressed but the doctor said I shouldn't get the bandage wet."

"I know just what to do. Mark had surgery to fix a broken wrist." She strode to the kitchen side of the one room apartment. "Do you have any plastic wrap?"

She swathed his bandaged arm in clear wrap and wound duct tape around it to hold it in place and keep the water out."There you go. All ready for a shower."

He gave her a skeptical look. "Do you know what's going to happen when you take that tape off?"

"Um-hum. The hair's going to come off with it. Stop being such a wimp. Go shower. I'm going to try to find something to eat."

Amy opened the fridge and took out the egg carton and opened it. "One egg." She looked at the date. "Still good." A white plastic tub from the grocery store yielded macaroni and cheese with mold on it. She tossed it in the trash. There was some cold pizza on a plate. It wasn't moldy but she wasn't sure how old it was. She wondered what Sam ate. She regretted all the money she'd spent on groceries on Thursday only to have them all burn up on Saturday. Such was life.

She didn't want to think about the fire. Someone had truly wanted to kill her and Sam. A chill ran down her spine. There was something on the periphery of her brain that she couldn't quite remember. Something important that could lead to the discovery of who was trying to kill her.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. She froze. Briana couldn't have possibly gone to the store and back in that short of time. Another knock. She sidled over to peek out the window. A man with a box and a woman with a bag stood at the door. They looked harmless. The man looked familiar but she knew she'd never met him. Then she heard them speaking in German. Sam's parents. She opened the door before she thought about how she was dressed. As she stepped back, she pulled her robe more snugly about her. "Sam's in the shower," she announced as the couple walked to the table to put down their packages.

"I know Sam doesn't cook much," Mrs. Elliot began. She turned to look at Amy. "How is he hurt?"

"He has a slight flesh wound on his upper right arm. As long as he takes care of it, he should be all right." Amy felt like she was under a microscope.

"I called the hospital and they told me he was released. I tried to call him but it wouldn't go through."

"His phone got burned up in the fire." Amy swallowed a lump that came to her throat. She hoped they didn't ask too many more questions.

"Ja. Is bad. You are Mrs. Hollister, right? You lost everything?"

"Everything but what's in my purse. I grabbed it before I tried to get out." Tears came to her eyes and she blinked them away. "Sam saved my life."

The bathroom door opened and Sam stepped out in nothing but gray boxer-briefs. "Oops!" He jumped backwards. "Amy get me a pair of jeans from the closet," he called. After Sam emerged with pants on but shirtless, he got his scissors from his desk in the corner and came to Amy. "Cut this off." He indicated the plastic wrap around his arm. "But don't pull it off. I'll do that myself."

Amy cut the duct tape and clear wrap. He gingerly began to remove it. "Why prolong the agony?" she said and grabbed the other end ripping it loose.

"I-yi-i-i!" He turned away.

"Don't be such a wimp." She still had the wrap in her hand and jerked it loose. As she stepped over to the waste can, she caught his mother's eye. "Men aren't as tough as they would like us to think."

"We must get back to the farm," Mr. Elliot said. He told Sam in German that he wanted to talk to him privately.

"Just wait till I get a shirt on."

Sam followed his parents down the steps, the steel cold on his bare feet. The gravel in the parking lot hurt the soles of his feet. "What do you want?"

His father spoke in German. "You shouldn't get too involved with Mrs. Hollister. You haven't known her long enough."

"Dad, I told you before, how I live my life is none of your business."

"You are my son. It is my business. You are becoming more violent. You were not raised that way."

"Violence begets more violence," his mother asserted.

"Yes, it does. But somebody must try to control it. Do you know what would happen if there weren't cops like me? Utter chaos. You wouldn't even be safe out there on the farm. Someone must try to stop it. Might as well be me. I try to keep things as tame as possible. But some criminals can only be subdued by violence."

His father who held out his hand as he said, "I am just concerned for your safety."

Sam grasped his hand and pulled him into an embrace. "I know, Dad. Don't worry. I know how to take care of myself."

"Ja. That's why you are wounded."

"At least I'm not dead." Sam hurried back up the steps to his apartment. As he closed the door, he said, "I should have put my shoes on as well as a shirt."

Amy shrugged. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-three."

"And you still need to be told to put your shoes on?" She couldn't suppress a giggle.

He stepped around the table. "You owe me a kiss for that one."

She allowed him one kiss and moved away. "Do you have something I can wear until Briana gets back? I'd like to get out of this smokey robe."

"I can help you with that." He untied the belt to be met by the hospital gown she wore. He peeked down the front of the gown.

"Quit being silly. Don't you have a robe or something I can wear?"

"I have just the thing." He went to the closet and took out a red flannel nightshirt. "Mom made this for me. Never been worn. I told her I sleep in my underwear but she insisted I take it. You can have it. I don't wear dresses."

"It's not a dress. It's a nightshirt. Lots of men wear nightshirts to bed."

"Not this one. Do you need any help in there?"

"Nope. I'm perfectly capable of undressing myself. That goes for dressing, too." When she closed the bathroom door behind her, she noticed there was no lock on the door.

Sam's bathroom was half the size of hers. It had a shower stall instead of a tub and shower. A sink and toilet completed the facilities. Sam's dirty jeans lay on the floor where he dropped them. She slipped out of her robe and let it fall on top followed by the hospital robe.

The hot water sluicing over her body seem to ease the pain of her injuries and loosen her tight muscles. She stepped from the shower onto the bathmat before she noticed that the only towel in the bathroom was the one Sam used to dry on. "Sam!" she called.

"What do you want, sugar plum?" He opened the door and stood grinning at her, standing naked a dripping water on the floor.

"A dry towel would be nice."

"Hmmm. I might be able to find something. Be right back." He returned in a few minutes with a flannel shirt. "This is about as close as I can get to a towel. I only have three and two of them were in the bag of laundry that burned up in your house this morning."

He took a step closer. "Do you want me to dry you?"

"No. I can do it myself."

When she came from the bathroom, Sam stood looking out over the parking lot. "It's raining. Not hard. Just enough to wet things. Briana must be buying the store out as long as she's been gone."

"I hope she gets back soon. I need to get to the bank before noon."

"There she is now. I'll go down and help her carry her loot in."

Amy looked out the window. The bags Sam was taking out of Briana's Mercedes contained more than just a few days worth of clothes.

"Here you are. I figured on enough for a few days at least." Briana held up the bag she carried. "I have breakfast sandwiches from Helen's." She noticed the sticky buns on the counter. "Where'd you get them"

"Mom made them. They're boy buns."

"I didn't know buns have gender," Amy said as she began digging through the bags she'd laid on Sam's bed.

Sam grinned. "The boys have nuts."

"Briana, when I get dressed will you take me to the bank and then to the Ford dealership. I need a car."

"I surely will. And anywhere else you need to go."

"Once I get a car, I can go where I need to." Amy pulled on stiff new jeans.

"By the way, Trey told me. Meeting at one o'clock in the conference room at the station. He's in charge of the investigation so he wants to form a task force with the FBI, state and local police. They want to pick Amy's brain to find out if they can come up with an identity of the stalker. I'm going to be there because I'm Amy's lawyer. I'm not going to let a bunch of cops bully her."

****

Amy eased her new white Ford Fusion in behind the fire truck that sat in front of the smoldering remains of her house. A few fireman worked raking the debris around and putting out hotspots.

Sam held the yellow tape up for her to duck under. The state police fire marshal and Trey stood off to the side talking. "...there's no doubt it was arson," said Dwayne Abbott the fire marshal as Sam and Amy walked over to them.

Sam introduced Amy to the fire marshal, adding, "The propellant used was gasoline. The smell of it is what woke me."

"There were no batteries in the smoke alarms we could find," Abbott informed them.

"I put batteries in all the smoke alarms the day I moved in," Amy protested.

"Shit!" Sam slammed his right fist into his left hand with a grunt of pain when the jolt traveled up his arm to his wound. "That's what he was doing on Thursday when we weren't home. He took the batteries. We never thought to look up. He had this planned."

"Which makes it premeditated, attempted murder as well as arson," Trey responded. "There's a meeting this afternoon..."

"Briana told us. One o'clock, right?"

"Yeah. We've got to stop this bastard before he does any more damage. Amy, you should be in a safe house."

"Yeah, right. All he'll do then is go underground until he finds me again. I can't live like this. I want him to come after me. I have a nine mil bullet with his name on it. Trey, I'm certain he had something to do with Mark's murder."

"Oh, I talked to Fred about that. He called the marshals in to look into Mark's death. You will have to sign the papers to have his body exhumed."

"I'll do that. I just want to put an end to it all."

Trey laid his hand on her shoulder. "We'll talk about it more this afternoon. Maybe Fred will have the paperwork ready by then."

"Found a safe over here," yelled a fireman.

"Good." Amy turned to walk over. "Is it all in one piece?"

"It is and in pretty good shape, too. It was under this pile of clothes and bedding."

"It was under there for a reason. Some very important things are in that safe."

"Sure is heavy." The fireman carried it to the truck and set it on the back. "It looks like all that's wrong is the paint is scorched."

Amy went to the car for her keys and returned to fit the right key in the safe's lock. On a little slip of paper she took from her wallet was the combination. "Hot!" she exclaimed when she touched the dial.

Trey took out a handkerchief and carefully turned the dial to the combination she read off. He turned the key in the lock and the door swung open and he stepped back to allow Amy to see inside the safe.

"Everything seems to be here." She pulled out some folders and gave them to Sam. Then she took out a carved cedar box. She opened it to reveal diamonds and gold jewelry. "Some of these are very old heirlooms. The rest are pieces Mark bought for me. They are all irreplaceable. I need to get a safe deposit box."

"You won't today," Sam said. "Bank closes in five minutes."

"Then it all goes in the trunk of my car."

# Chapter 8

"Here come the walking wounded," the chief said as Amy and Sam walked into the conference room.

Candy Musco rushed forward to hug Amy. "I'm so sorry you lost your house."

Amy hugged her back. "Why are you here?"

"I am a profiler," Candy shot back. Her coppery curls, in contrast to her smooth milk chocolate skin, were tied up in a high ponytail with curls shooting off in all directions. "We have to get this guy before he kills you."

"Sam, this is Candy Musco. As you heard her say, she's a profiler."

Sam reached out his left hand to take Candy's right hand. His right arm was in a sling.

"We might as well sit down. The others should be here soon." Chief Erikson sat at one end of the table; Fred, the other. Candy sat to Fred's right and Amy next to her. Sam sat beside Amy.

"How many more are coming?" Sam asked to no one in particular.

"Three. Wilkins better show up because he's in charge." The chief picked up a pen and wrote the date at the top on the judicial-size yellow tablet that was already on the table. There was a tablet and pen at each place.

A tall state trooper with sergeant's stripes on his sleeves walked in. "Am I too late for the start? Don't get up on my account." He went around the table and sat down on Fred's left.

Fred held out his hand. "FBI Special Agent Fred Weller. We haven't started yet because the agent in charge isn't here."

The trooper responded, "Sergeant Wes Beaver. I lead a tactical team."

Trey and Briana arrived. "Stay sitting." She sat down beside Sam.

"Why are you here?" The chief demanded.

"I'm Amy's lawyer. I'm here to make sure you guys don't bully her into something she doesn't want to do."

Trey went around and introduced himself to Sgt. Beaver. He sat down and took a tape recorder from his briefcase. "Does anyone mind if I record this?"

"I do." Briana said. "This isn't an interrogation."

"So noted." Trey put the recorder away. "Is everyone here that's supposed to be here?"

"No. There's supposed to be a deputy U.S. marshal," answered Fred.

"He's here, too." Deputy Marshal Steven Conklin came through the door.

"Now that we're all here, you can close that door," Erikson said. As they introduced themselves around, there was a knock on the door.

It opened and Sgt. Shawn Albert poked his nose around it. "May I sit in on this?" He came in the room and closed the door behind him. "I know some of you might not want me here but I screwed up the first time and I have a lot of making up to do. Beginning with, Mrs. Hollister, I'm sorry for the problems I caused."

"Anyone object?" the chief asked.

"I should after the trouble you made for Amy," Briana snarled.

Albert took the seat between the marshal and the state trooper. "Just keep an eye on him over there," Sam said. "If he makes trouble, out he goes. Understood?"

Trey stood up. "Now that we know who all is here and what law enforcement agency they represent, it's time to get down to business." He stepped over to a white board and wrote in big blue letters at the top. STALKER. "We're here to pick our brains and figure out who this guy is. Amy, can you think of anyone who has it in for you?"

She shook her head. "I've gone over it time and time again. There something on the periphery of my mind but I can't pull it out."

Fred spoke up, "We now know that he truly wants to kill her. He's tried to get her twice. He blew up her car and burned her house. She's survived both. That has to put pressure on him. He's going to try again soon. He must want her pretty bad to follow her all the way from California."

"I can't prove it but I believe that he killed my husband. How else did he get Mark's glasses?"

"You have a point there." Trey wrote it on the board. "Agent Musco, you're the profiler. What do you see so far?"

Candy thought a moment before replying. "White male. Mid-thirties to mid-forties. Military training with explosives. Possibly in law enforcement due to the lack of evidence he leaves behind. He has suffered a real or imagined affront from Amy."

Sgt. Beaver looked across at Amy. "He has unfinished business with you."

Amy's face went white. "Oh, God!" She covered her face with her hands. "Oh, God! That's what he said in the courtroom after he was convicted. He said he has unfinished business with me" She took her hands away from her face and met Trey's eyes. "Is he out of prison yet?"

Trey counted on his fingers. "He should have gotten out a year ago."

Amy's expression held pain. "That's when Mark was murdered."

"Do you two want to fill in the blanks for the rest of us?" Sam asked.

Trey turned to the white board and wrote in large letters: DENNIS SERGUS. "Former ATF agent. An explosive expert. Learned his trade in the army in Iraq. Amy, this is your story. Do you want to tell it or should I?"

"I will. Just help me out if I get into trouble. This is an open sore that has been festering since Mark's death I need to clean it out so it will heal. Here goes.

"It was right after I began working at ATF in L.A. There was some transcribing my boss wanted done by morning so I stayed late to finish. I didn't know there was anyone else in the office at that time. There wasn't supposed to be. The security guard came around to check on me about seven o'clock. I told him I was almost finished and would be heading out soon. When I finished my work, I put it on her desk like she told me. Then I went to the restroom. I was washing my hands when Dennis walked in.

"He used to hit on me ever since I started working there. I reminded him that he was wearing a wedding ring and so was I. When he wouldn't let me alone, I went to the department supervisor. Dennis got suspended for three days and was warned to let me alone. All he said to me after that was that he would get even. I told him to leave me alone or I'd report him again.

"That night he tried to get even according to his twisted thinking. He tried to...rape me." Amy's voice broke. "He tore my clothes. I raked my nails down his cheek to get as much of his DNA as I could. I fought him as hard as I was able but he slapped me hard and knocked my head back against the tiled wall. It addled me. I just began screaming as loud as I could. 'Help me! Help!' He laughed at me and said there wasn't anybody around to help me. But there was."

She gave Trey a pleading look with tears streaming down her cheek.

"I'll take over here," Trey said. "I had just gotten back to the office after a successful undercover mission. I heard Amy screaming. I followed the sound and I found Sergus trying to get Amy's slacks off her. She tried to fight him off but he had the advantage in size and weight. I got him in a head lock from behind but he knew as much about hand to hand fighting as I did. After he knocked me down Amy kicked him where it counts. I got control of him and used zip ties to handcuff him. Then I called security.

"I'm not going to go into details after that. Sergus got three years for assault and attempted rape. There are those of us who think he should have gotten more."

Conklin stood up. "I'm going to make some calls and see if I can find out where Sergus is. Surely someone in the federal system ought to have some idea. I'll be right back."

"See if they can come up with a current picture," Fred called after him as he went out the door.

"Much good that'll do," Trey said. "Sergus had the ability to blend in with his surroundings. He was a good undercover agent because of it. He's a master of disguise. We don't even know what kind of car he's driving."

"Blue Chevy," Sam said.

"Not anymore," the chief put in. "They found it this morning on the lot at Ed's Used Cars."

"Check for stolen cars." Sgt. Beaver took out his cell phone. "I need stolen car reports since about 4 a.m. today. Call me as soon as you get something." He disconnected. "We can't even put out a BOLO until we find out what he looks like. I doubt that he's using his own name."

Conklin came back with a handful of colored mug shots of when Sergus was released from prison. "We don't know what he looks like now. He could have let his hair and beard..."

The chief slapped his hand down on the table. "Sam, get Kerr in here and see if he can identify him from this picture."

Albert stood up. "I'll do it." Without waiting approval, he left the room. He came back to inform them, "Kerr's coming in. Shouldn't take him long."

"Okay. We know who it is," Trey said. "How are we going to catch him?"

Amy had dried her tears. "With me as bait."

"I don't like that," Sam opined.

"If you have a better idea, let's hear it," the chief said.

Fred spoke up, "We can implant a GPS bead so we know where she is. He can take away any cameras or other devices. We could even do an earring with a GPS as a false lead so he'll think she can't be traced. I don't suppose one can be had here."

Erikson shook his head. "We usually let that sort of thing up to the state police or the FBI."

"I can make a call now and have it in a few hours," Fred offered.

"Do it," Trey commanded. "It would be nice if we could figure out what he's driving."

Kerr arrived and took a look at Sergus' picture. "Do you care if I write on this?"

"Go ahead," Sam said.

Kerr penciled in hair, beard and glasses. "It's him."

"I want one of these in every patrol car. I want to know immediately if anyone spots him. Does anyone have anything to add?" No one raised a hand. "Then let's get to work and see if we can find the bastard."

"I need to go to WalMart," Amy said. "After that fire I am in dire need of more than clothes. A new cell phone comes to mind. "

"I'll take you," Briana offered.

Amy returned, "No. Sam and I will go. After all, what is Sergus going to do in a crowded WalMart?"

"Keep a close eye on her, Sam," Trey ordered.

"Won't let her out of my sight," Sam assured the others.

When they got to the parking lot behind the station, Sam said, "I'll drive."

"Your arm..."

"Give me the keys. I going to drive and that's that."

Amy surrendered the keys and went around to the passenger side door as Sam pressed the button to unlock the car. "You don't really feel like doing this, do you?" Sam said.

"Not really. But we can't put it off. There are things we need. Like towels."

They piled their shopping cart full of clothes, toiletries and other necessities. "I have to go to the restroom," Amy said. She turned to a tall woman wearing an employee blue vest with the name Cheryl. "Can you tell me where the restroom is?"

The woman smiled."I can show you. I'm going there myself." The two walked off toward the back of the store.

Sam had an uneasy feeling about it and followed along pushing the cart that held their purchases. He stopped at the end of the hall where there was a sign that said, "No shopping carts or purchases beyond this point." He glanced at his watch. He waited ten minutes and Amy hadn't reappeared. He pushed the cart to the side just as a male employee walked up.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"Yeah. And it's too long. Will you do me a big favor?" Sam dug a one hundred dollar bill from Amy's wallet. "Take this stuff to layaway. I'm a cop and the woman I was with seems to have disappeared."

The man took the bill and asked, "Who's name should I put it under?"

"Amy Hollister."

Sam whirled around and headed back the hall with Amy's purse slung over his shoulder. He paused at the restroom door to call, "Police! I'm coming in!"

A woman with a little girl stood at the sink. She whipped around when Sam entered. The little girl hid behind her mother's leg.

"It's all right," Sam assured them. "I just want to see..." He checked each of the stalls. No one was there.

"Do you have a cell phone?" he asked the woman.

The woman took the cell from her pocket and handed it to him.

Sam couldn't remember Trey's number so he called the station and got patched through to the chief. "Is Wilkins still there?"

"Yeah. He's right here."

"Put him on." Sam waited a few seconds while the transfer took place. "Trey, Amy's gone missing. She went to the restroom and never came back. She was with a WalMart employee."

"Dammit, Elliot! You're supposed to be watching her."

"We don't have time for this. Meet me out behind the store ASAP." Sam disconnected and gave the cell back to the woman. "Thanks." He strode out.

# Chapter 9

#

Sam was squatted down beside tire marks in the back lot when he heard the wail of sirens. He straightened and walked toward the sound as Trey's black government issue SUV careened around the corner of the building. Sam put his hand up for Trey to stop. As he climbed into the vehicle he asked, "May I use your cell phone?"

Trey handed it to him while turning around. "Anything here?"

"A couple of tire marks. Looks like a full size van or pickup." Sam put the cell phone to his ear and began issuing orders for a CSU team. "That's about all I can tell you," he finished. "Trey, take me around to Amy's car..."

"Nope. You're going to stay right here where I can keep an eye on you. Do you have any notion where he may have taken her?"

"Someplace private where she wouldn't be heard if she screamed. Turn here."

"Where are we going?"

"Out of town."

"You know the area better than I do. It's your home turf."

"That's right," Sam agreed.

****

Amy's consciousness returned slowly. She was in the back of a van that swayed and jolted along a country road. She could hear the windshield wipers so the rain must be coming down faster. She tried to move only to find that her hands and feet were bound with duct tape and there was a strip across her mouth. She tried to see the driver but didn't want to attract his attention by making noise.

She already knew it was Sergus. She was unsuspecting when the WalMart employee suddenly took a syringe from her pocket and injected Amy at the base of her neck. She vaguely recalled Sergus helping her out the back door to the waiting white van.

Fortunately, he had taped her hands in front of her. She carefully moved to pull the tape from her mouth. She quietly drew in a deep breath. She stayed still a few minutes listening. She felt the van sway as it turned off the road onto a muddy field road. The ride became rougher but the van had enough rattles to disguise the sound as she used her teeth to rip the tape from her wrists.

She shifted her position so she could get one hand down by her side to pull the tape from her ankles. Just then the van stopped.

"Now my dear little lady, we change vehicles." Sergus got out and walked around to open the sliding door.

Amy was waiting for him. She tried to kick him in the balls but he caught her foot and twisted, yanking her out of the van to land with a jarring thump on the muddy road. Pain shot through her right ankle and she cried out. She lay there with the rain pelting her in the face.

Sergus jerked her to her feet. A stab of pain shot through her ankle and it gave way. "I think you broke it!" she cried.

"You'll learn to listen to me." He half carried her to a red and black Chevy Blazer and opened the endgate. He set her on the floor of the cargo space and again bound her with duct tape. This time with her hands behind her back. He roughly shoved her inside and slammed the tailgate, tossing the roll of duct tape in the corner behind the seat.

Amy lay still and tried to focus on the situation but she was lying on something round and hard. She rolled onto her stomach to see what it was. The jack handle/lug wrench! She had a weapon. Now all she needed was to get free so she could use it.

****

"Where are we going?" Trey wanted to know. "What if we're going the wrong way?"

"That doesn't matter," Sam stated flatly. "Every cop in town is out looking for her. Add to that the FBI and the staties, they aren't going to miss us. We can keep in touch on your cell. I have a hunch."

"Care to share it?"

"I think he's going to head for the mountains. He's had survival training. Whoa! Back up!"

"See something?" Trey shifted to reverse and backed to where he was parked across a muddy field road with cornstalks on both sides. "Fresh tire tracks. Looks like something white."

Trey began backing again.

"Hold on. We walk from here. Off to the side so we won't mess up the evidence. I want to find Amy but I want to put Sergus in jail so he can't hurt her again."

"I have rain ponchos in the back," Trey offered.

"Stay off to the side out of the mud. Neither one of us is wearing boots. Look at that. A white van. Bet it says Goddard and Sons Cleaning on the side. Looks like one of his."

They approached the van with guns drawn but it was unnecessary. No one was there. The sliding door was open and the marks in the mud told the story. "Looks just about the right size for Amy's ass," Sam said. "Bastard drug her to whatever vehicle he had waiting."

"Red and Black Chevy Blazer, stolen this morning," Trey guessed.

Sam sucked in a deep breath. "Call it in. Then we're going hunting and I'm driving. I know my way around these mountains. Hunted most of them since I was a kid." He opened the driver's door and slid behind the wheel.

Trey stepped up to the other side and buckled up. "We'll have to go around to see if we can pick up a trail."

"No we don't. I know where he'll come out. They aren't too far ahead and any time we can save puts us that much closer."

****

Amy realized that the duct tape was around the cuffs of her sweatshirt so she pulled back her right hand into the sleeve and loosened the tape which wasn't sticking well because her shirt was wet. Her right hand was free. She did the same with her left hand. The tape across her mouth was already loose; she just needed to pull it away.

She was free! She had a weapon. Pulling the jack handle from beneath her, she sat up and pushed with her feet to put her behind the back seat where Sergus couldn't see her in the rearview mirror. Pain shot through her injured ankle.

What good would it do to fight Sergus off if her ankle wouldn't support her weight? It would need to be taped. The roll of duct tape lay in the corner where Sergus had thrown it. She was sure he would hear if she pulled tape off the roll.

Then he unwittingly did her a favor. He put a CD in the player and turned it up loud. A chill went through her as she realized the rap song was Sergus telling her what all he was going to do to her and to Sam. What she heard gave a new urgency to the situation. Somehow she needed to get word to Sam.

With Sergus' rant ringing in her ears, she tore off strips of tape and wrapped her ankle. She hoped it wouldn't swell inside the tight tape. She needed the tape tight for support. She debated whether to sneak up behind Sergus while he was driving and hit him over the head. Perhaps she should wait until he stopped and surprise him when he opened the endgate. She hoped it was soon. She needed to go to the bathroom.

Amy could tell they were traveling on a dirt road. The downpour made it difficult to see out the window, she could see that there were trees on both sides of the road and they were going uphill. The rocking of the SUV made her ribs hurt but she needed to concentrate of getting free from her captor. It would not be easy. He had size and weight on his side. He weighed at least twice her one hundred ten pounds.

Suddenly the vehicle stopped and began moving in reverse. She pressed tighter against the back of the seat as Sergus turned to look out the back window. Then the Blazer stopped. She didn't dare raise up to look out the window. It was getting dark early as the low gray clouds dumped buckets of rain from the sky.

She could see the light of a flashlight as Sergus walked along to the back of the car. Amy tensed, grasping the jack handle tightly. She moved to the tailgate and peeked out the window. Sergus was at the door of a cabin opening a padlock. Then he pushed the door inward and turned back to the Blazer. He was coming for her.

She gripped the handle and crouched at the endgate as he unlocked it and raised it. Amy sprang up swinging her weapon with all the strength she possessed. But he quickly sidestepped, grabbing the jack handle and yanking it from her hands. She fell forward and rolled on the ground. He drove a kick to her ribs.

She lay gasping for breath as searing pain exploded in her side. She cried out as he seized her ankles and dragged her inside, leaving her lying on the floor as he went back outside. He returned with two plastic bags full of groceries. "Get up," he ordered.

"I can't. You kicked me in the side where I have broken ribs."

"Told you you'll learn to listen to me."

Amy managed to get to her knees. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Bucket's over there in the corner." He went about lighting a gas lantern that hung over the table.

Amy managed to get to her feet but her right ankle wouldn't support her weight. She hopped over to the table to a straight-back chair. Dragging it along for a crutch, she managed to get to the bucket. Her wet jeans clung to her skin when she tried to get them down.

"Need some help over there?" Sergus asked.

"You stay away from me," she snarled.

He chuckled and went about building a fire in the little round stove. He had his back to Amy but she was sure it was because of what he was doing. She didn't expect any mercy from him. She'd heard his rap song of what he intended to do to her and Sam. Why Sam? He had no involvement with Sergus. She knew the answer. He wanted to take Sam away from her like he took Mark away.

She had to try to change his mind. She wondered if she tried to be nice to him if he would relent. He already had her. Why did he need Sam, too? She knew Sam wouldn't quit until he found her or Sergus found him. "I need to wash my hands," she said.

Sergus dipped some water from a bucket that was set to catch the rain water that ran through the roof. He set the basin with its chipped, gray enamel on the table. "There you are, princess." He laid a dry towel and a cake of soap beside the basin.

After she dried her hands she used the towel to dry her hair. Sergus had moved to the far end of the cabin where his duffel bag lay on the scruffy old couch. He came back with a dry, green flannel shirt. "Take off your shirt."

"No way."

His face set to hard lines. "If you don't take it off, I will and I might get a little bit rough."

Amy hopped back a step and looked up at him. He had gone from a happy, almost carefree mood to dangerous in an instant. She was afraid of him so she leaned against the table and stripped off the red sweat shirt.

"Now would you look at that. A bullet proof vest. FBI. Don't you work for ATF anymore?"

"I took what was available when I transferred east."

"Take it off."

"I'm not wearing a bra. I have broken ribs, thanks to you."

"Take it off!" He stepped forward and pulled loose the Velcro straps that held it in place.

Amy crossed her arms across her breasts. He handed her the shirt and ordered. "Put it on. It's dry. Now off with the jeans."

"No!"

He lifted her off her feet and carried her to the single bed that was along the wall. He dumped her on the bed and stepped toward the foot end to pull off her left shoe. Then her sock. When he pulled off the right one she cried out in pain. "Don't!"

He took out a knife and cut away the duct tape, pulling it away along with her sock. The ankle was swollen and purple.

"I told you it's broken!" she cried.

"You'll just have to learn to do what I tell you. Now the jeans."

"No." She knew it was futile. If she didn't take them off, he would. She didn't want him any closer to her than necessary so she undid them.

He took hold of the pant legs and pulled them off. "Panties."

"No."

"Pull the blanket over you and slip out of them. I'll hang them over by the stove to dry."

She did as he told her but it made her feel vulnerable to be wearing just his shirt. She tried not to let him see her fear. He moved two chairs over by the stove and hung her clothes over them. Then he busied himself to make a meal of canned meat, potatoes, onions and eggs.

The smell permeating the air inside the cabin made Amy's mouth water. "What time is it?" she wondered.

He looked at his watch. "Almost eight o'clock. Are you hungry?"

"Yes. And thirsty."

He brought her a bottle of water and went back to his cooking. He moved a chair beside the bed and and set a plateful of food on it along with the tableware. "Here you go, princess. This is your last meal. Enjoy it while you can."

Pulling the blanket along with her, she sat up. He sat at the far side of the table facing her. She knew how Red Riding Hood must have felt in the presence of the big, bad wolf. She wondered if she could hide the knife or fork to keep as a weapon. Maybe she could jab him in the eye and slow him down enough to get away.

****

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Trey asked as Sam leaned forward to see through the rain streaked windshield.

"Yeah, I know. It's hard to see the road. If the rain would just stop."

"It's not raining as hard as it was."

Suddenly Sam shoved the SUV in reverse and cut the lights. The headlights went out but the running lights didn't. He backed up until he was far enough back that they couldn't be seen from the cabin.

"I would guess you have a reason for what you just did," Trey said.

"The cabin's just ahead. There's a light. He probably has a gas lantern. There's no electricity. I'm going to reconnoiter a bit to learn what I can about the situation."

"Don't you go in. We wait for backup," Trey ordered.

"I'm not that big a fool. I won't help Amy if I get myself shot. Call it in for backup. You'll have to use the radio. There no cell phone service up here."

"I have a rain poncho..."

Sam was already out of the truck moving stealthily into the woods. He slipped up beside the cabin and peered in the corner of the window. He could see Sergus with his head down on the table, possibly asleep. A couple beer bottles set on the table beside him. Sam couldn't see Amy and he didn't dare to show his face at the window or to make any noise.

He moved along the cabin to the front where the red and black Blazer sat. He felt around in the debris on the ground until he found a small stick he thought was the right size. Crouching beside the vehicle, he took the valve cap off the passenger side front tire and used the stick to hold down the valve gut to let the air out of the tire. Then he moved around to the driver's side and did the same thing. "That should keep him here," he breathed as he walked out to the road and started back to where Trey waited.

He slid behind the wheel. "Any luck getting backup?"

"Conklin's coming with Beaver and a tactical team. I told him no flashing lights or sirens. I told him to stop when he saw the reflectors on the back of this truck and cut the lights. They were already geared up waiting for the call. It's a good thing I called to set it up. They were waiting a couple of miles away."

While waiting for the SWAT team, the two men went over what needed to be done to rescue Amy. "Amy comes first," Sam declared.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?" Trey asked with a grin. "You got it bad."

"Yep. I love her. And she doesn't know. I'm going to tell her the first chance I get. Right now we need to focus on how we're going to get her out of there. If Sergus knows we're coming, he may just kill her. I don't know how we're going to free her, but we've got to do it."

Trey looked back through the SUV. "I see lights. Time we walk back and meet our help."

The state troopers came prepared complete with a communications center in a van. Trey and Sam entered the van to explain the situation. Sam did most of the talking.

"I'm going to send a trooper in as close as we can with infrared vision equipment. She'll be able to tell us where Sergus and Mrs. Hollister are situated inside the cabin. Come along, Elliot. I need you to explain the best approach to her."

Deputy Marshal Conklin, Beaver and Sam left the van where the sergeant introduced him to a SWAT team member. Sam was impatient to get things moving. He spoke to the trooper, the only woman member of the team, telling her the best route to take through the woods to get to the cabin.

When she was in position, she began transmitting information. "I can see two hot spots. Apparently she's lying down, probably on a bed of some kind."

"There's a bed in there," Sam confirmed.

"The other one is at the table. He looks like he has his head down sleeping."

"That's what I saw when I peeked in the window," Sam returned.

# "Let's get into position," Conklin ordered. Another SWAT member asked, "Are we going to try to get him to come out first?""No!" This from Trey. "If he knows we're here he'll kill her.""She just sat up," said the woman with the infrared."Move it," Conklin commanded. "Things can go south in a hurry."Sam and Trey joined Beaver and Conklin on the far side of the cabin as the team moved into position. Each had been given his task.

****

Amy sat on the edge of the bed. Sergus was asleep at the table. She stood up slowly. It was now or never. She had to get out of there. The pain was excruciating when she put her weight on her right foot. She gritted her teeth and hobbled along to the door. Sergus was still snoring. She could not stop the grating noise as she slid the bolt back on the door.

"Bitch!" Sergus yelled as he raised his gun.

The bullet plowed its path through her back and exited just below her collar bone. The searing pain sent her to her knees. She fell sideways onto her right side and rolled onto her back as her life's blood poured out onto the floor.

Gasping for air, she tried to focus on where Sergus was. Would he shoot her again? The sound of breaking glass turned her attention to the window. She saw the most beautiful sight of her life as Sam Elliot came through the window feet first.

# Chapter 10

As soon as the gunshot sounded, Sam's feet began moving as fast as he could go. A fallen tree beside the cabin served as a springboard for him to vault through the window. He hit feet first with his right foot hitting the sash. The rotten wood gave way with the shattering of the glass. A shard of glass stuck into his thigh as he plunged through landing on his feet but the momentum kept his body going and he landed on his right side, driving the shard of glass deep in the muscles, splintering into bits.

He still had his gun in his hand and he rolled to sit up and fired three shots at Sergus' chest. Sergus fired at the same time sending two bullets slamming against Sam's chest. His bulletproof vest stopped the projectiles from penetrating but the impact knocked Sam onto his back. He lay still a moment trying to get his breath back.

He looked up at Sergus who was getting back up on one knee. His vest, the one he took from Amy, had stopped Sam's bullets. As Sam struggled to get up, Sergus pointed his gun at Sam's head. A shot from the window shattered Sergus' elbow. All at once the little cabin filled with SWAT team members. One of them kicked Sergus' gun out of his reach and hauled him to his feet.

"Cuff him and then tend to his wound," Wilkins ordered.

Sam crawled along dragging his wounded leg to where Amy lay. "Amy, stay with me. Stay with me. Amy, don't leave me."

She opened her eyes and tried to say his name before she went limp.

"Amy!"

Conklin came storming into the cabin. "Elliot, I'll have your badge for this! You didn't follow procedure."

"Conklin," Trey drawled. "if he'd have followed procedure Amy would be dead." Trey stripped his belt from the loops.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam demanded.

"I trying to get this belt around your leg for a tourniquet so you don't bleed to death before we can get you to a hospital."

Sam turned back to Amy but she was gone. "Amy?"

"She's already in an ambulance on her way to the hospital." Trey stood up. "Will someone bandage his leg while I go get my vehicle. I'll take him to the nearest hospital. Where?"

"Pottsville," Beaver informed him.

****

Sam lay staring at the ceiling. The man in the other bed was snoring so loudly Sam was sure the windows rattled. It was giving him a headache. He reached for the call button. A short time later a nurse entered the room.

"What do you need?"

"Can you shove something in his mouth to stop his snoring?"

The nurse chuckled. "I don't think that's legal. We can hear him all the way out at the nurse's station."

Sam didn't see the humor in it. "I need some information."

"About?"

"Amy Hollister. She was brought in just before I was. Gunshot wound."

"I'll call down to the ER." She left and didn't come back for quite a while. "She's still in surgery," she told him. "Do you want something for pain?"

"No. I want some information about Amy."

"I already told you all I could find out."

"When can I go home?"

"You'll have to ask the doctor." She turned and walked out. She came back a short time later with a syringe which she injected into the IV in his left hand. "That should ease the pain. They called to say they found a donor with your type blood. A state trooper."

"I need a transfusion?"

"You lost a lot of blood."

"I'm getting a headache from his snoring."

"You won't have much longer. That shot was morphine."

Sam was awakened by the old man who shared his room stumbling around and cursing because he couldn't find the bathroom. A fresh bag of blood was suspended on the IV pole with a feed into the main line. The clock on the wall showed five thirty. Apparently the old goat found the bathroom because the cursing stopped. He came to stand at the foot of Sam's bed. "When did they bring you in?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "What're you in here for?"

Sam reached for the call button. When the nurse appeared, Sam said, "Put him back to bed so he stops asking questions."

She took the old man's arm, "Come along, Charlie, and let Mr. Elliot alone. He had a rough night last night."

"Ain't my fault." He mumbled as the nurse put him back to bed.

"You know you're supposed to ring for a nurse before getting out of bed. Do you want to have another fall?"

Before she left Sam asked for another pillow to prop his leg so he could turn on his side with his back to Charlie. When she brought the pillow, Sam asked, "When do we get breakfast? I'm hungry."

"I'll see if I can find you something. Breakfast doesn't come until after seven." She brought him a cup of tea and some cookies.

Sam was eating breakfast when Trey Wilkins walked in. Without waiting for Trey to say hello, Sam spoke up, "What do you know about Amy?"

"Well, hello to you, too. Amy is being air lifted to Philly. Weller's call. He has power of attorney for Amy and is also named on her living will."

"He damn well better not have her taken off life support!"

"I doubt he'll do that. He seems to have a lot of respect for Amy. He did call her parents. Her mother said they'd be on the first flight they can get."

"If she's in a trauma unit they'll probably only allow close relatives to visit her."

Trey shot him a grin. "And law enforcement officers. Just flash your badge and you're in."

"My badge got fried along with my cell phone." Sam sighed deeply. "Will you get me a cell phone? I feel like I'm disconnected from the world."

"There's a phone built into the bed railing."

"I know. I'm going to use it, too. I have to call Mom. I can't walk out of here in a hospital gown and my shoes."

That brought a chuckle from Trey. "I doubt you'd get as far as the door."

"The door to this room," the nurse said as she came to take away Sam's tray.

"I hope I get more for dinner than I got for breakfast," Sam complained. "That wasn't enough for a little kid. Can I get another coffee?"

"If you behave yourself." She took his tray away and and came back for Charlie's.

The old man turned on the TV and raised the volume up so that Sam and Trey couldn't be heard unless they yelled. Trey took Sam's control and turned the TV down. As soon as he turned his back, Charlie turned it back up. Trey switched it off.

He stepped over to Charlie's bed. "Leave it that way until I leave."

"You can't tell me what to do."

Trey showed his badge and ID. "ATF Special Agent Trey Wilkins. If you turn that back on, I'll arrest you for interfering with a federal investigation."

"You can't do that."

"I can and I will."

Trey turned back to Sam. "About last night..."

A nurse came into the room. "Who rang?"

"I did!" Charlie shouted. "He threatened me."

The nurse looked at Trey and Sam. "Did you?"

"I told him if he doesn't let the television off until I leave I'll arrest him for interfering with a federal investigation."

"Do you have another bed somewhere so I don't have to put up with this?" Sam asked.

"Not on this floor. I would guess that the doctor will discharge you when he comes in. Charlie, behave yourself or I report you to your doctor. You can't be disturbing the other patients."

Sam watched the clock. It seemed an eternity before the doctor arrived. "When can I go home?" were the first words out of Sam's mouth.

The doctor grinned. "Just as soon as I check your wounds to make sure there are no infections."

****

Amy floated up from the dark depths of oblivion. On the edge of consciousness, she listened to the unfamiliar sounds--voices talking but not close. Her eyelids were just too heavy to open them. Then someone was beside her.

"Mrs. Hollister, can you hear me? Squeeze my fingers if you can hear me."

Amy managed a weak squeeze.

"Mrs. Hollister, are you in pain?"

Another weak squeeze. Amy tried to talk but there was something in her mouth.

"The pain should go away now." The nurse left the room as Amy sank back into the darkness of unconsciousness.

****

"Dad? It's Sam. I'm in the hospital up here in Pottsville."

"Why?"

"I was wounded in a rescue last night but we got the stalker. The doctor says I can come home but I need some clothes. The ones I had on last night are all bloody. I think they ended up in a evidence bag."

"What do you need?"

"Shorts, tee shirt, top shirt, pants and socks. My shoes have blood on them but I can still wear them. We're about the same size if you don't mind lending me your clothes."

"We'll be up as soon as we eat dinner. That's quite a drive. Which hospital are you in?"

Sam gave his father directions. "I'm in room 615. You can't get me out of here quick enough. I'm in a room with an obnoxious old man who is either snoring or playing the TV too loud. Right now he's doing both."

After hanging up, Sam slowly reduced the volume on the TV while he kept a wary eye on the old man. Sam enjoyed what peace he could until they brought lunch and woke up Charlie. While eating his turkey sandwich, Sam watched the news. All that was on the noon report was the arrest of Dennis Sergus for stalking and attempted murder. "That is all the state police released," the news anchor said. "They won't discuss it further because it is still being investigated."

It was nearly one-thirty when his sixteen-year-old sister Rachel walked into the room with an ear-to-ear grin on her face. "Hello, brother." She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

"Where's Mom and Dad?"

"We're right here. Rachel, you and Mom must go to the waiting room while Sam gets dressed." He laid a bulging plastic grocery bag on the foot of the bed and pulled the curtains closed. "I figured you might need a little help."

Sam could have managed without help but he accepted his father's offer. Shorts, socks and pants came first and he was glad for his father's assistance. While he dressed he told his father all that had happened. "I'm just glad I was wearing a bullet proof vest. All I have are bruises. I'm alive.

"All I know about Amy is that they took her to a trauma unit in Philly. I'll find out more when I get home. I can't go to my apartment because I'm not allowed to go steps yet."

After Sam was dressed and all the paper work was done, Rachel pushed the wheelchair to take him down to the front entrance. Mr. Elliot went to bring the van up to the entrance.

"I'm glad you brought the van. I need the leg room."

When they arrived at the big farmhouse, Paul Elliot drove the van around to the back of the house where there was a ramp that had been built when Sam's grandfather had lived there. Sam was grateful that he didn't have to negotiate the steps up to the front porch. "Is there coffee?" he asked his mother.

"Ja. I saved you a some chili and cornbread from dinner. You know I don't cook much on Sunday. I can make the chili the day before."

"All I had was a toasted cheese sandwich, tomato soup and a little salad." After eating his second dinner, Sam hobbled to the living and sat down on the sofa. Rachel followed to get him a pillow to prop his leg on the coffee table. "I guess I'll just sit here and twiddle my thumbs. I'm not use to sitting around doing nothing."

A book with a blue cover lay on the coffee table. Rachel handed it to him. "Here, read this. I read it. It's a really good book."

Sam took the book she offered. "Let Faith Arise by Ronnie Dauber. Never heard of her."

"Just read the book," Rachel shot back. "You'll see."

****

"Amy. Amy, wake up. It's Fred."

Amy stirred and opened her eyes just enough to see she was awake. The breathing tube was gone. In its place was a mask that fit over her nose and mouth. She put her hand up to pull it away.

Fred caught her hand. "You want to leave that alone. It's what breathes for you."

Amy put up her hand to touch the mask but something was clipped on her finger and there was a needle in her hand attached to plastic lines: one from a bag of clear liquid and another from a bag of blood. The head end of the bed was raised to keep her in a reclining position.

Amy thought back to what had happened to her. She'd been shot. Then Sam came through the window. Sam! With shaking hands she held her left hand flat and made a writing motion.

Fred looked across the bed to the bed table where a tablet and pencil lay. He walked around the table and held the tablet down for her.

The finger clip that measured her blood oxygen got in the way so she moved it from her right hand to her left. She wrote on the tablet, "Sam? Where? Okay?"

"From what Wilkins told me, Sam is at his parents. He has a bad cut in his thigh from the window glass. That was a darn fool thing for him to do but it probably saved your life."

She wrote, "Sergus?"

"He's in a hospital recovering from a shattered elbow from where Wilkins shot him. So Trey saved Sam's life. Sergus is handcuffed to his bed so he can't escape. There's a guard at the door."

"I heard gunshots. ??"

"Sam and Sergus shot each other but they were both wearing bulletproof vests."

Frowning, Amy assimilated that information. There was something else she needed to know.

"My purse?"

"I have it. Sam left it in Trey's vehicle. He's going back into undercover work for the ATF. The state police are now in charge of the investigation."

She wrote, "$5,000 in purse. Give it to Sam. Don't want that much money in here."

"I'll agree with that. For the time being, it's in the safe at home. The only people who know about it are Wilkins and me. By the way, I called your parents. Your mother said they'd be on the first flight they can get. Another thing, the FBI is taking over your husband's murder case."

She wrote, "Sergus admitted he killed Mark. I'll tell you more when I can talk."

He tore the page from the tablet and put it in his pocket. "Don't want this lying around for some curious nurse to see. Some of this hasn't been made public yet. You do what the doctor and nurses tell you. If I get to talk to Sam I'll tell him you want to see him."

# Chapter 11

"Good morning, Mrs. Elliot. Is Sam here?" Briana kept her voice friendly even though she knew that Sam's mother didn't approve of her former relationship with Sam.

"He's right here in the living room." The older woman turned and led the way thru the door off the right of the hallway. "Sam, There's a lady here to see you."

Sam looked up from the book he was reading. "Hello, Briana. What brings you up here?"

"I got a phone call from Josh Turner. He was trying to locate you. I told him your cell phone got fried and you aren't at home right now."

"Did he say why he wants to talk to me?"

"He said he has the whisper of a lead on your daughter. He wanted to ask you if you will pay his expenses to follow up on it. I told him to go ahead and I'd guarantee he gets paid. So he's on his way to Alabama. I don't know where in Alabama."

Sam laid the book aside and picked up his crutches which lay beside the couch. "Come along to the kitchen. There are some things I need to tell Mom. I'd like you to come with me for moral support. I should have told her long ago."

Sam sat down at the end of the table just as his mother took a cake from the oven. "Mom, come sit down. I have something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" she asked as she seated herself just around the corner of the table.

Sam drew a deep breath. "I should have told you at the time but I didn't hold much hope...Now.."

"It would help if you would tell me what you're talking about."

"I have a daughter."

"What...how?"

"When I shipped out to Iraq, Lynn was pregnant. She didn't tell me. She moved to Philly and went back to her maiden name."

"She told me she got a job there. I don't understand..."

"She gave the baby up for adoption. I...I didn't know." Sam swiped his hand across his face and up over his hair. "I talked to her friend. Jo told me she sold the baby for five thousand dollars. Briana told me about this private investigator so I've had him looking for her. My daughter, that is. Briana tells me he's on the way to Alabama to follow up on a lead. I don't know what will come of it. It's been almost ten years. The girl must be eight or nine years old."

"Sammy, what are you going to do if the girl is happy with her adoptive parents? It could really mess her life up if you take her away. Sometimes it hurts to do the right thing but you still must do it."

Tears welled up in his eyes. "I know, Mom. But I still need to find out."

Briana spoke softly. "You also need to know how Amy fits in the scheme of things. Did you tell her?"

"Yeah. She knows."

"What if," Briana continued, "Josh finds her and you need to go to Alabama. Will you go or stay with Amy?"

"I'll go but I'll make sure Amy understands that it's something I have to do." He looked from his mother to Briana. "Will you take me to find Amy? I need to know how she's doing. All I know is that they flew her to a hospital in Philly."

Briana stood up. "I'd like to know, too. I do know that Fred Weller has power of attorney and her living will. That would be a starting point. I would guess that Fred had her moved to Philadelphia so she'll be close to where he is. Maybe he knows something that we don't. Trey told me that Sergus is being transferred from Pottsville to a hospital in Lebanon County. He's under guard and will be charged as soon he's released from the hospital."

Sam stood up and limped to his mother. "Mom, I guess I should have said this before. I love you." Sam had tears in his eyes as he embraced his mother. "Tell Dad I love him, too."

"Why don't you tell him yourself," said a voice from the doorway.

With a grin, Sam motioned his father to come close. "I love you, Dad. I appreciate everything you and Mom have done for me. I have some things I must do. I'll get your clothes back to you after I have some of my own."

"Sam," his mother cautioned. "You aren't supposed to go stairs yet."

"I'll be okay Mom. I have to find out about Amy. I love her and I want to marry her if she survives..." He choked up. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll be in touch. Do you care if I take that book with me? I'd like to read the rest of it."

"Take it."

****

"Amy, sweetheart. Wake up."

Amy opened her eyes. "Dad. Is Mom here too?" They had taken away the mask and now a line fed oxygen directly into her nose.

"I'm right here, honey." Her mother leaned down to kiss her cheek.

Amy looked from one to the other. "Now do you believe I was being stalked?"

"I'm sorry, dear. I thought you just didn't want to believe Mark committed suicide." Mrs. Clifford gave a weak shrug.

"He didn't," Amy asserted. "Sergus killed him. It was part of the revenge he planned for having him charged with attempted rape and getting him fired. His wife took their kids and left him so he took away what family I had. The man has a twisted mind. I got him fired so he was going to 'fire' me. With real fire."

"Just don't you worry, dear. We'll have you flown back to California where I can take care of you."

"Mom, I'm not going back to California. I...I met someone. I love him. I don't know where things will go after I'm out of the hospital but I do know I want to be with him."

"I'm glad for you, sweetie. You deserve some happiness. Mom and I can get along without you. I'm retiring soon and Mom has the shop. We'll do just fine."

"Speak for yourself, Bill," Mom cut in. "I still think she should come back to California."

A man on crutches came through the door followed by a tall brunette.

"Sam!" Amy held out her hand and her father stepped back.

Sam came up to the bedside and took Amy's hand. "How are you doing?"

"I hurt. I've never been shot before." Her expression became puzzled. "Sam, before they took me away, did I hear you say you love me?"

"I certainly did. Amy, will you marry me? Sorry I can't kneel. I have enough trouble standing."

"Yes, I'll marry you when I get out of here. Sam, I want you to meet my parents, Bill and Kristen Clifford. Mom and Dad, this is Sam Elliot. He's a cop. He saved my life twice. And this is Briana Quillan, my lawyer. She's also a very good friend."

A nurse came into the room. "Only two visitors at a time. I'm going to have to ask you all to leave for a short time. We're going to move Amy to a special care unit so we have another bed available here in the Trauma Unit."

"Briana, don't go too far. I need you to do some things for me."

"How long will this take?" Sam asked.

"Give us a half hour," the nurse said.

"We should go for something to eat," Briana suggested.

"Do you care if we tag along?" Bill Clifford asked. "We aren't familiar with Philadelphia."

Briana looked at Sam. "Your call."

"Come along. After all, some day you may be my in-laws."

****

They sat at a table back in a corner of Alberto's Italian Cafe--Briana and Sam on one side; the Cliffords on the other. "You say you're my daughter's lawyer," Bill Clifford said. "What has she done to need a lawyer?"

"She didn't do anything," Briana responded. "Her boss thought she needed legal support after that car bombing. Oh, darn!" Briana took out her cell and frowned when she looked at the caller's ID. "Yeah, Fred. What can I do for you?"

"Do you know where to find Sam Elliot?'

"He's sitting right here next to me."

"Give him your phone."

Briana passed the phone to Sam. "You need to get your own phone."

"What's up, Fred?"

"Plenty. Sergus escaped from the hospital. Some dumbass gave him a metal fork with his meal. He bent a fork tine and picked the lock on the handcuffs. I think he may come after Amy."

Sam stood up. "I'm on my way. If Briana won't take me I'll get a cab. You need to know they moved Amy out of intensive care to a special care unit. I don't know her room number yet."

"I have an agent on the way. You can meet her there."

Sam passed Briana's phone back to her. "Sergus escaped. If you want to finish your lunch, I can get a cab."

"I'll take you. Mr. and Mrs. Clifford can get a cab." she dropped her phone in her purse. "Please excuse us. I know it seems rude to leave you here like this but Amy's life is in danger."

"By all means, go," Bill Clifford pre-empted his wife's comment.

When they arrived at the hospital they found Candy Musco in a hallway conference with the nurses on the floor. They stopped to join in.

"We don't know for sure that he'll be so desperate to kill Amy that he comes to a hospital to do it. Keep your eyes peeled for anyone who looks suspicious or out of place. This man is a master at disguises. We want to protect Amy without disrupting the care of other patients."

"Is Amy is a semi-private room?" Sam asked.

"Yes. There's an elderly lady in with her," the R.N. in charge said. "We can move her to another room If you think it's necessary."

"Move the older lady," Candy ordered.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "That's where I'm sleeping tonight. I'm not leaving Amy alone until this is over."

"What authority do you have to do that?" the R.N. asked.

"I'm a cop and I am also Amy's finance. Candy, are you finished here? We need to get our ducks in a row to nab Sergus before he even gets to Amy."

The little group had dispersed but Candy called the R.N. back. "Will you please ask the head of security to come up to Amy's room. We need to coordinate this to be as unobtrusive as possible."

"The thing that bothers me is that Sergus is so good at disguises," Sam worried as they walked back to hall to Amy's room.

Nurses were already moving Amy's elderly roommate out. They just moved bed and all. One of them in pink scrubs said, "We'll move a bed back in for whoever stays the night." She looked at Candy as if to say she would prefer the FBI Agent to an emotionally involved cop who was out of his jurisdiction.

"What's wrong?" Amy asked as Sam came to her bedside.

Sam regarded her seriously a moment while he decided whether to lie to ease her mind or to tell her the truth. The truth won. Amy needed to be prepared in case Sergus showed up.

But Sam didn't get the chance to tell her. Candy did that.

Fear showed in Amy's eyes but she was thinking clearly. "Candy, get in touch with Fred and tell him to bring my purse. Tell him to put the money in a safe place first. I want my gun just in case you guys don't get him before he gets here."

"Oh, he'll come," Candy confirmed. "He's reached a point where killing you is his main focus. I must go speak to the nurse for a list of everyone who should be taking care of you. I also need to talk to security."

"What about PPD?" Sam asked.

"I don't want a lot of uniforms scaring him off. I just want to safely trap him before he gets to Amy."

"Uniformed cops sometimes wear civilian clothes," Sam responded.

Shortly after the bed transfer was completed, Amy's doctor came in and asked what all the hustle and bustle was about. He soberly listened to Candy's explanation.

"We can move her to a safer part of the hospital," he suggested.

"I think we should keep her where she is. I'm a cop. Candy is an FBI agent, then there's hospital security. Maybe we can get a few of Philly's finest to patrol the halls in plain clothes."

"I'll leave it to the professionals. I would appreciate it if you can do this with a minimum of disruptions to the other patients."

"That's what we're hoping for."

The doctor went on to talk to Amy. After checking her out he looked at her right ankle which was swollen and purple. "It may be broken or perhaps the Achilles tendon is torn. I'll send an orthopedic doctor around to take a look at it." He looked at Sam. "Take care of her."

"I'll do that."

Amy asked for something for pain and was soon sleeping. Sam put the head of the other bed up as far as he could and sat back to read his mother's book.

It was getting on toward supper time when Fred arrived with another FBI agent to take over so Candy could go home. Fred introduced the other FBI agent but it was unnecessary.

"We've met before," Pete Gallagher said.

"Howdy, Pete," Sam said. "It's been a while."

"Not long enough. You're out of your jurisdiction, Elliot."

Fred intervened. "You two need to work together no matter what experiences you've had. Gallagher, I expect you to conduct yourself according to FBI standards. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Fred went into the room and woke Amy. "I brought your purse. Your gun's in it. I hope you don't have to use it. I put your money in my safe at home."

"Thank you, Fred. I just feel so helpless."

"There are enough law enforcement officers around here to make a small army. Sergus shouldn't even get close to you."

"He's a master of disguises," she reminded him.

Sam came into the room with a white plastic grocery bag. He set it on the bed table and took out three subs and a cold six-pack of root beer. "Candy already left," he informed Fred.

"I'll take the hall watch so Pete can eat." With that, Fred walked out.

The Cliffords came in about seven o'clock. "We were out taking in the sights. I'm surely tired," said Bill Clifford. "We didn't get much sleep last night."

"You slept on the plane," his wife responded. "I was too worried." She took her daughter's hand. "I hope you won't mind if we don't stay too long. We'd only be in the way."

Amy gave her a suspicious look. It wasn't like Kristen Clifford to admit she'd be in the way in anything. Maybe the seriousness of the situation finally sank in.

Sam got some IV tubing from one of the nurses and made an alarm by threading the tube through the pop top on three root beer cans and hung it on the inside of the door. He closed the door and opened it again. "I guess that's loud enough to wake me."

He checked the ID of every health care employee that came into the room. Then he stood by and watched while they were with Amy. "I'm not taking any chances," was his reply to a nurse who complained. Eventually he went to bed and was soon asleep.

Amy was under too much stress to sleep until 3 a.m. when a nurse gave her a shot through her IV.

# Chapter 12

In the morning Candy came back to relieve the FBI agent outside the door. Time seemed to drag. Sam finished reading his book and passed it on for Amy to read.

Her parents arrived shortly after lunch. "Since you refuse to return to California..."

Bill Clifford cut his wife off. "Since you are well enough that the prognosis is good, Mom and I have decided to go home. She has her shop to tend to and I still have a job. If you need anything, please call us." He shook Sam's hand. "Take good care of her. We'd like to stay and chat but we have a plane to catch." He leaned to kiss his daughter's cheek.

Mrs. Clifford gave Amy a tight smile. "Maybe after you and Sam get married, you can come to California on your honeymoon."

After they were gone, Amy said, "Fat chance that'll be. The last thing I want is my mother looking over my shoulder on my honeymoon."

"When we get married, I'm not going to let you out of bed for three days."

"Why three days?"

Sam grinned. "That's as long as I can go without food." He leaned down to kiss her lightly on the lips. "Go to sleep."

"Right after I get something for pain."

The doctor came in followed by his train of interns and residents. "I think we can take the IV out now. She seems to be doing quite well. How do you feel, young lady?"

"Better than I did a couple of days ago but I really could use something for pain."

"In the morning we'll get an X-ray to see how that lung is expanding." He leaned down to examine the plastic box full of blue liquid into which a tube ran from Amy's chest cavity to expel the air so her lung could fully inflate. "Looks good. I don't see any bubbles."

"About my right ankle..."

"I'm a chest surgeon. I'll send an orthopedic doctor around to look at your ankle." He pulled the sheet aside to look at the injured ankle but it was wrapped with an elastic bandage.

After the visitors left and Amy had her pain pill she drifted off to sleep. Sam stepped out of the room to talk to Pete who stood on the far side of the hall talking to Fred. Sam walked over to join them. "I'm beginning to think Sergus isn't going to show."

"He'll show. Killing Amy is paramount with him. We just don't know how he'll come. He may wait until she's out of the hospital."

A doctor came walking briskly up the hall. He paused at the door to Amy's room and opened a folder he carried.

Pete went over to check his ID. "Dr. Malloy. Are you the orthopedic doctor to look at her ankle?"

The doctor answered in the affirmative and opened the door which set Sam's alarm to jangling. "Interesting alarm," the doctor called over his shoulder.

The alarm woke Amy. Somehow the doctor looked familiar. He had that unshaved look that seemed to be so popular among men. Amy thought it was because some men were just too lazy to shave every day. He also wore black thick framed glasses.

He took Amy's arm and placed a rubber tourniquet around her arm just above her elbow. Amy pulled back on her arm. "You're supposed to look at my ankle."

"Don't worry, Amy. It will be quick and painless."

"Sergus, you son-of-a-bitch!"

He held onto her arm with his left hand and reached stiffly into the pocket of the white coat he wore to pull out a syringe.

"Bastard!"

"You can swear at me all you want, Amy. It will do you no good."

Amy's heart pounded with fear as she flipped up the mirror on the bed table with her left hand. She pulled out her gun, glad that she'd left the safety off. She didn't even aim it. They were too close for her to miss. Her first shot hit just below his right collarbone. The second hit his carotid artery spraying her with blood.

He tried to stab her with the needle but got the mattress instead. She put another bullet in the center of his forehead. His dying act was to shove in the plunger of the syringe.

By the time she fired the third shot, Sam was in the room followed by Fred and Pete. Amy laid the pistol on the bed table. "Is he dead?" she croaked. Her mouth was so dry she could scarcely utter a word.

"As a doornail," Sam answered. He didn't even bother to check for a pulse. The blood pool was enough.

Amy began shaking uncontrollably. She started retching. A nurse ran around the bed and grabbed the wash basin and shoved in front of Amy as she vomited. "Get a gurney!" she ordered the other nurse who came into the room. "We've got to get her out of here."

"Pete, guard the door and keep the gawkers away. This is a crime scene." Fred had his cell phone in his hand calling PPD. "Sam, you go with Amy. We can handle it."

Pete turned from the door. "I'm sorry. His badge looked legit."

"It probably was. We need to find out what happened to the real Dr. Malloy," Fred said.

Sam helped move Amy to the gurney as a nurse pulled the oxygen line from the wall outlet. In a few minutes, they were on their way into the hall. "Take her to the supply room. There's water in there."

A third nurse came in with Sam's crutches. She pulled the red bags used for hazardous waste from a shelf. "I'd guess they'll want her gown as evidence."

Sam tried to help. The third nurse, a short redhead who's name tag said Thelma, wheeled in a chair. "Set your ass down on that and stay out of our way."

The first nurse named Joan said, "Thelma, you'd better go out to the station. There are sure to be bells to answer because of the gunshots. They'll want to know what happened."

Candy came in and took Amy's hand. "Fred called for me to come. He said you might need me."

"I killed him, Candy. I killed him because I wanted to. He made my life a living hell. He killed my husband. It was premeditated."

Sam spoke up, "You were fighting for your life. That makes it self-defense."

Amy looked around at him. "That doesn't change the fact that it was premeditated."

A young woman wearing a jacket that proclaimed her a CSU came in with evidence bags. "I need everything that has blood on it."

Joan handed her the bags. "That's everything with blood on it except her. We just washed the blood off of her."

Sam's cell phone rang. "Elliot."

"This is Josh. I think I've found your daughter. We need you to come to Alabama. They want to take a fresh DNA sample directly from you. They aren't taking any chances."

"I can't get away right now. I'm in the middle of a mess."

"In my opinion as an ex-cop, I think this matter needs your immediate attention. The girl is in foster care because both of her adoptive parents are in prison for making, selling and using meth. I'm not sure that she's living in a good home."

"I'll come. I'll need directions. And I need to make another stop before I leave Philadelphia. I'm going to get a DNA sample from her mother. I'll have an FBI agent with me when I get it."

"Amy, that was Josh Turner. He thinks he's found my daughter. He wants me to come right away so they can take my DNA personally. I want to stay here with you..."

"Do what you have to do. I'm well taken care of."

"Thanks for understanding." He kissed her and turned to Candy. "Can you get a court order to get DNA from my ex so I can prove that the girl is mine?"

"The warrant is Fred's line. Come along and explain to him what you need." When they were out the door, she added, "He's been gathering evidence against this baby selling business. He won't have any problem getting a warrant."

****

"FBI! Open the door. We have a warrant!" Silence. Fred waited a short minute before calling again. "FBI! If you don't open the door we'll break it down." He held his badge in front of the peephole.

Lynn Cameron opened the door but left the chain on. "What do you want?"

"To talk to you and to get a DNA sample."

Sam stood back where Lynn couldn't see him when she opened the door. Then he followed Fred inside with Candy Musco and a deputy marshal named Carla. As soon as Lynn saw him, she screamed, "What are you doing here? Get out! Get out of my apartment."

"Ms. Cameron, will you please calm down?" Fred commanded. "Corporal Elliot is here at my request."

Sam looked around the room. "You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself," he commented about the chrome and white furniture with glass topped tables. "I think we found our daughter, Lynn. That wasn't a very intelligent thing you did."

Candy stepped forward to take a swab of the inside of Lynn's cheek as Carla edged around behind Lynn. As Candy stepped back and closed the swab inside a tube, Carla pulled Lynn's left arm back and snapped on the cuffs. Lynn tried to pull free but Fred blocked her.

"Lynn Cameron, you are under arrest on suspicion of selling your baby on the black market and consorting with those who deal in the sale of human beings, specifically babies. You have the right to remain silent..."

"You son-of-a-bitch, Sam!"

Fred finished reading Lynn her rights. "Candy and Carla, take her in the bedroom to get dressed unless she wants to go to jail in her robe."

"How am I supposed to get dressed with my hands cuffed behind me?" Lynn flared.

"Candy and Carla will help you. Sam, we might as well search these rooms while their doing that. Then we need to get to the airport to catch our flight."

Sam found an aluminum briefcase that was locked. "Lynn, what's the combination?"

"I have the right to remain silent."

"So be it." Fred looked up as Pete walked in the door. "Pete, you and Carla take her in and question her. If she's uncooperative, put her in a holding cell alone and make sure she doesn't talk to anyone but her attorney."

Fred pried open the brief case. Inside, he found a laptop. "Candy, take this in to have it processed. But first drive Sam and me to the airport. We have a trip to Alabama."

"You have no right to take that laptop," Lynn screamed. "That has personal stuff on it."

"Ms. Cameron, this will go easier on you if you cooperate. Otherwise you'll be charged with obstruction of a federal investigation. Plus, any other charges we can legally come up with. This baby selling business will be treated as an abduction which has no statute of limitations. Think about it."

****

The sun was rising when the FBI plane set down at the Birmingham airport. An FBI agent was waiting for them with a black SUV. Fred drove him back to the federal building and they headed northeast to a little town called Sunup close to the Georgia line.

Though he'd slept on the plane, Sam's eyes felt like they were full of sand and his leg thumped with pain. He was glad he could leave the driving to Fred. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His thoughts turned to Amy. He hated to leave her like that but finding his daughter was important to him. He silently cursed his ex for what she'd done. He hoped they put her in jail for a long time.

He wondered what the child was like. Did she resemble him or Lynn? Was she even his daughter? What if Lynn had been cheating on him before he deployed to Iraq. A myriad of possibilities plagued him, keeping him from sleeping.

He was glad when Fred pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant where they were supposed to meet Turner. Inside, they headed for the restroom before finding a table in a corner where they could talk in relative privacy. They barely had time to order coffee when Turner casually strolled in.

He sat down and the waitress was there with a cup of coffee. "They're getting to know me here. This is a good 'down home' restaurant."

"What have you got for us, Josh?" Fred asked.

Sam was surprised that Fred and Josh were on a first name basis.

Fred explained. "Josh used to be a very good FBI agent until he got shot up pretty bad and had to leave the bureau."

"What I have for you is a one o'clock appointment with Sara O'Riley, head of child welfare in this county. She already knows about Lettie. The FBI are on it from this end. The child selling business, that is."

"Have you seen the girl?" Sam wondered.

"Her picture."

"Are you ready to order?" The waitress took a pad from her pocket. "One check or separate?"

"One check," Fred said. "I can put it on my expense account."

"No wonder the country's almost bankrupt with guys like you padding your expense accounts," Sam joked.

"We are talking about the case," Fred returned.

Sam was hungry so he began to eat his breakfast-for-lunch meal that consisted of sausage, eggs and biscuits smothered in milk gravy. After he swallowed the first bite he asked, "What does she look like?"

Josh drew a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to Sam. "Oh, my God!" Sam exclaimed. "She looks just like my kid sister when she was that age. Oh, God."

Sam smoothed the paper and sat gazing at the photo. "Where is she?"

"With a foster parent. Her 'adoptive' parents are in jail on a whole slew of charges ranging from aggravated assault to making meth in their mobile home where a child was present. They're in jail because they can't raise the money for bail. Children and Youth, or whatever they call it in Alabama, is seeking to have bail refused for flight risk purposes."

When Sam came to Alabama he was afraid this would be just another wild goose chase, but after seeing the photo, he was certain that the little girl was his daughter. She was a feminine copy of him with that strawberry blond hair and big blue eyes. His heart beat fast and he felt choked up. His daughter!

Fred grinned at him. "You're allowed to shed tears if you want."

Sam couldn't stop grinning. He shook his head to clear it. Was he dreaming or was this for real? He was eager to get on the road to the county seat to meet the head of Child Welfare. "Josh, I don't know how you did this but I love you for it."

"Josh, is the one that put us on the track of this baby selling operation to begin with," Fred informed Sam. "He's been passing us information as he finds it. He's like a bloodhound when he gets on a trail."

# Chapter 13

"Mrs. Elliot? This is Amy Hollister. Is your husband there?"

"He's out in the combine shelling corn. He'll be in for dinner soon. Can I take a message?"

"Yes. I'm in a hospital in Philadelphia and Sam is in Alabama." Amy paused thinking how she could best explain her problem. "It seems my former neighbors are complaining about what's left of my house. They say it puts a blight on the neighborhood."

Elizabeth Elliot interrupted. "Here comes Paul now. I'll let you explain it to him."

Amy could hear them talking quietly. Then Paul Elliot took the phone. "Mrs. Hollister, what can I do for you?"

Amy explained her problem. "I need someone I can trust to take over the cleanup. I'll be happy to pay you. I can't do it because I'm in the hospital."

"Give me the address and I'll go look at it. It's starting to rain so I can't be working in the fields. Just tell me what you want done."

"I...I," Amy hesitated. She didn't want her future father-in-law to think she was trying to get something for nothing. "I just want the rubble cleared away. If you find anything that survived the fire, I'd like to have it. The skeleton of Sam's truck is there. I need to have the lot restored so I can sell it. I'd just like you to oversee it."

"I'll take care of it. Just give me the address."

****

"Mr. Turner, I'll let Mrs. O'Riley know you're here." Linda Johnson pressed a button on the phone and said, "Mr. Turner is here with two other gentlemen." She put down the phone and said, "She'll be right out after she makes a phone call."

Sam's leg was bothering him so he looked around for a chair. He hardly sat down till he had stand up again as a middle-aged woman came out a door.

"Gentlemen, come with me, please." She led them to a conference room where Sam sat on the first chair available.

Turner introduced them. "This is FBI Special Agent Fred Weller." Fred shook her hand. Turner continued, "Corporal Sam Elliot of the Suttonville Police Department. He's the alleged father of the girl in question."

"May I ask what's the FBI's roll is in this case?"

"We have reason to believe that the girl was sold by her mother right after she was born. A legitimate birth certificate was obtained by the adoptive parents by citing them as birth parents. This baby selling operation is nationwide. We're collecting evidence to put them out of business and behind bars. This is told to you in confidence and not to be repeated even to your closest associates."

Mrs. O'Riley sat at the head of the table with Fred on her right. Sam moved to a place on the left.

"Unless you need me for something else," Turner said, "I'm catching the next available flight back to Philadelphia."

"I can't think of anything else," Fred responded.

Turner cocked a finger at Sam. "I'll send you my bill."

Sam was eager to see the little girl. "When can I meet her?"

Sara O'Riley smiled. "As soon as her foster mother can pick her up at school and bring her here. That's the phone call I was making. Now, I need to get a blood sample from you, Mr. Elliot."

"Corporal Elliot," he corrected. "Why a blood sample?"

"Don't worry, officer. I'm an R.N. I do know how to take a blood sample. Do you know your blood type?"

"AB positive."

"That could help narrow down the girl's paternity. Now if you'll just take your shirt off..."

Her eyebrows went up when she saw the bandage around Sam's upper arm. "What happened to you?"

"I got shot when I was trying to get a woman out of her burning house."

"I hope it wasn't the woman that shot you."

Sam grinned. "No, it was the arsonist that was trying to kill her. Just part of the job."

Fred took a small tube from his suit jacket pocket. "Here is a DNA sample from the girl's mother. I had to get a warrant to get it, but I did. She's currently locked up without bail and that where's she going to stay until I get back to Philadelphia."

There was a light tap on the door and the receptionist opened it. "Sara, Mrs. Starks is here."

"Thanks, Linda. As soon as I can get a blood sample, I want you to take it to SkyCo Lab." Sara left the room and came back with a woman using a walker and a small girl. She introduced the two men in the room who stood up when they entered.

Mrs. Starks looked puzzled, even a little scared. "The FBI! I haven't done anything wrong."

Fred gave her a benevolent smile. "We aren't investigating you, Mrs. Starks. It's another matter connected to this young lady."

Loretta tried to hide behind her foster mother. "I ain't done nothin' wrong neither."

"That's right. We aren't investigating you. Just how you came to be where you are. Mrs. O'Riley will take a blood sample to see if this man is you biological father."

"I'm adopted?"

"We believe that you were sold by your birth mother to the Strumms. It's a complicated affair and we haven't got enough evidence to makes arrests yet." Fred held the chair for Mrs. Starks to be seated. Then he folded her walker and set it along the wall.

"First let me get this blood sample." Sara placed Loretta on a chair and laid her necessary supplies on the table. "Now I'm going to prick your finger and squeeze out a little blood into this little vial. It will hurt a little. Which finger do you want me to use?"

Loretta looked at her hands. "I guess it don't make much difference." Reluctantly she held out her left hand. "The little one."

Sara tore open an alcohol packet and swabbed the finger. Then she opened a sealed packet and took out a lancet. "A little pinch."

Loretta let out a howl like she was being killed as Sara squeezed a little blood into the tiny vial and sealed it. "It will only hurt for a little while," Sara assured her. "Just hold this gauze tightly around it."

Sara added a label to the vial and put it in a padded envelope along with the samples from Sam and his ex-wife. She carried it to the receptionist. "Linda, tell them we need the results ASAP. They should be able to give you the blood types while you're there."

Sara closed the door and went back to sit at the end of the table. She left Fred explain about the possibility that Sam was Loretta's father.

Loretta eyed Sam from across the table. "If yer my father, how comes ya waited until now to come for me?" Without waiting for an answer, she plunged ahead with the next question. "How come ya let my birth mother sell me? Where were ya while all this was goin' on?"

Sam suppressed a smile. "You have more questions than an interrogator with a criminal. I try to answer them in order. I didn't come looking for you before because I didn't know about you. I didn't let you mother sell you. I was in Iraq and she didn't tell me she was going to have a baby. It wasn't after I divorced her because I caught..." Sam stopped abruptly because he was talking to a child and adultery didn't seem like an appropriate topic for one so young.

But Loretta finished his sentence. "Caught her with another man?"

"Yeah. She wanted to hurt me more so she told me she had a baby she gave up for adoption. I didn't want to believe her so I went to see her friend. She told me Lynn sold you. That's when I hired a private investigator to find you."

Loretta eyed him with half closed eyes as if she was trying to discern if he was telling the truth. "If the tests prove I'm really yer daughter, are ya gonna to take me away from Velma? She needs me to help her."

For the first time Velma spoke. "Lettie, if he's your father, you belong with him. I'll find someone else to help me."

Lettie made a sour face. "Ya ain't wearin' a weddin' ring. Ain't ya married?"

"Engaged," Sam returned. "It will take some adjustment because I'm living in a one-room apartment with a fold-out couch for a bed. You could get to meet your grandmother and stay with her until I find a two bedroom apartment."

"Yer a cop?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to yer leg that yer usin' crutches?"

"I got sliced by a shard of broken glass."

"Should be more careful."

A chuckle ran through the adults in the room. Fred spoke up. "He got it because he jumped through a window to rescue a kidnapped victim. He can tell you about it when you two have more time. Right now, I'd like to take you and your foster mother for ice cream or whatever else you'd like. Coming along, Sam?"

"Yeah." Sam hoisted himself to his feet and leaned on his crutches. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Mrs. Starks, do you want to take your own car or do you want to ride with us and I can bring you back for your car."

"I'll take my car."

"Good enough. I'll let you take the lead since you will know the best places in town."

When they got to the parking lot and Lettie saw the big, black SUV, she begged her foster mother, "Can I ride with them? Please. I never rode in an FBI car before."

"Yes, you may ride with them."

Lettie ran ahead and was waiting for Fred to unlock the doors.

****

"When can I be transferred to Suttonville Community?" Amy had struggled with her problems all night. She had a lot of decisions to make as to what direction her future lay. "I have business to take care of up there."

"I don't think it would be wise to ride that distance in a car."

"Ambulance?"

"Yes. I believe you could manage that. You're improving quite satisfactorily."

"When?"

The doctor bent down and examined the container of blue liquid that was attached to a tube from Amy's chest. "No bubbles." He straightened. "Possibly tomorrow if we can get the arrangements made. We can't send you up there if they don't have a place for you. Don't you like it here?"

"I have no complaints about the care. I am just too far away from the things I need to attend to. I need to hire an assistant to help me with some insurance paperwork. I assume this hospital will want to be paid for services rendered. I have already engaged a nurse so I can have twenty-four hour nursing care when I leave the hospital. Today is her last day here."

"Kate?"

"Yes, she's retiring."

"I know. We'll miss her. You will certainly have first rate care. She's one of the best."

"I know that. It's why hired her. First I must get to Suttonville."

"I'll have someone get right on the business end of the transfer. Do you want us to arrange for the ambulance, too?"

"That would be helpful."

Briana walked in. "Just the person I want to see," Amy greeted her. "Doctor, this is my attorney, Briana Quillon."

He reached out to take Briana's hand. "We've met. I leave you ladies to discuss whatever it is that you want to discuss."

After he left the room, Briana asked, "Why do you want to see me? I got your voice mail and since I was in the city, I decided to just stop in."

"Pull that chair over and sit down." Amy waited until Briana was seated. "I'm transferring to Suttonville Community. I need your assistance to find me a place of residence. I have already engaged a nurse. I'm sick and tired of the media trying to gain access to my room. I want to hide away from the world for a while.

"I don't care if it's an apartment, a townhouse or a house. I need a first floor room that can be used as a bedroom and a first floor bathroom with a shower. To buy or to rent, I don't care."

"That's a pretty big order."

"You don't have to do it personally. Just see that it gets done. I need an assistant who is familiar with insurance claims."

Briana interrupted. "I'll handle that part myself."

"Good. Fred put my money in his safe at home. I need you to get that. I suppose I'll need to have you make out a power of attorney so you can handle that. Fred's not home. He went to Alabama with Sam. I tried to call his cell number but it went to voice mail. I don't have a cell number for Sam." Amy became pensive. "I don't know if I should marry Sam or not. We don't know each other that well."

"You don't need to jump into that right away. Give yourself time to heal and spend more time with Sam when he comes home. He's a good man."

"Which reminds me. I'll need a home with two bedrooms. In case that girl is really his daughter."

"Okay. That's enough for right now. I'll get the power of attorney drawn up and try to get in touch with Fred about your money. How much money are we talking about?"

"Four thousand, nine hundred dollars. I figure that will get me a residence. I hope the insurance will pay for my house even if it was a case of arson. Same with my car insurance. And I need to reapply for Mark's life insurance since it is now a case of murder." Amy shook her head slowly. "I just want to put all this hell behind me."

****

"I haven't been able to get Amy since we left PA." Sam put his cell phone back in his shirt pocket. "When I called the day we got here, I was told she was down getting x-rays. Yesterday the phone to her room was busy each time I tried. This morning, I called and a cleaning lady answered and told me she wasn't there anymore. She got a nurse who told me Amy had herself transferred to Suttonville Community." Sam sighed deeply and looked across the table at Fred just as the waitress brought their orders for steak and fries.

"Don't you have a cell phone number for her?" Fred sliced off a bit of steak and put it in his mouth. "Oh, sure," he mumbled as he pulled his cell from his pocket. "Just when I get my mouth full." He flipped the phone open. "Hi, honey. Can you give me just a minute to swallow?"

"While I'm waiting, I can tell you why I called. Briana Quillon is here with a temporary power of attorney. Did you put some of Amy Hollister's money in our safe?"

"Sure did."

"She wants me to give it to her."

"Let me talk to her."

"Hi, Fred. How's the weather in the sunny south?"

"It's dark outside. Why do you want Amy's money?"

"I don't. Amy wants it. It is hers, you know. Why do you ask?"

"I also have power of attorney so don't give me any of that privileged information junk. Why does Amy want the money?"

Briana drew a deep breath before launching into the reasons Amy had given her. "She won't be spending the rest of her life in the hospital. She will need somewhere to live when she gets out. To tell the truth, I don't think she's going to wait for the doctors to discharge her. She has already hired a nursing attendant and she wants an assistant."

"Sam wants to talk to you." Fred passed his cell phone across the table.

"Briana, do you have a cell phone number for Amy?"

"As far as I know she doesn't have a cell phone yet. Give me your number and I'll tell her to call you. Just to make sure she has a cell phone, I'll pick one up for her."

"That's good. When will you see her again?"

"Not anymore tonight. By the time I get back to Suttonville, visiting hours will be over. I'll be sure to stop in tomorrow."

"Put Martha back on so Fred can talk to her." Sam passed the cell phone back and dove into his steak and fries.

It was nearly nine o'clock when they arrived back at the motel and went inside for their keys. As the manager took the keys from the rack, he said to Sam, "There was a kid in here asking for you. I told her to go home. She said she didn't have a home."

"Where is she?" Sam demanded.

The manager shrugged. "She just went out the door and I didn't see where she went."

Sam cursed. "We gotta find her, Fred."

As they went out together, Fred mused, "I wonder why she left home. Who knows what a kid will do? Maybe she has some romantic notion that you're some super hero because you're a cop."

Sam expelled a deep breath. "There she is."

Lettie sat on the concrete walk outside Sam's motel room. When she saw them coming her way she stood up.

Sam stopped in front of her. "You have some explaining to do, young lady." He inserted the key and unlocked the door. "Inside. Fred, you coming?"

"Yeah, I guess that would be a good idea."

Sam was already perturbed about not being able to get in touch with Amy. He didn't need any additional problems. He pointed to one of the chairs at the small table. "Sit."

Lettie sat. "I can explain..."

"You better be able to explain," Sam shot back.

"I didn't mean to make ya mad at me. It's just...well, Velma's sister Olivia came to help Velma 'cause I might be leavin'. She didn't like me bein' there. She started givin' me orders an' I told her she ain't my boss an' she hit me." She turned her right cheek to Sam. "See."

Sam saw the bruise. "Fred, take a look..."

Fred took his cell phone out and punched in 911. "Put me through to the sheriff's office."

"Yer callin' the cops on me!" Lettie jumped up but Sam grabbed her around the waist. "He's not calling the cops on you. Just sit down and be still."

Fred explained to the deputy that answered what Lettie had told them. "Yes, sir. She has a big bruise on her cheek. I think you should send someone to look into it. Also you need to know about it in case her foster mother calls in about her being missing."

Sam looked down at her. "Did you have supper yet?"

"No. She said I wouldn't git no supper 'cause I was disrespectful. I jest crawled out the winda an' ran away. She jest plain don't like me." Tears trickled down her face.

Fred disconnected and put his phone in his pocket. "They're sending someone out. She took the information in case Mrs. Starks calls in about Lettie being missing. And I suppose you'd like me to go get something for her to eat." He looked down at Lettie. "What would you like to have little lady?"

"I donno. Nobody ever asked what I like. I jest eat whatever they give me."

"How about a burger and fries and a chocolate milkshake?"

"That'd be super!"

When the deputy sheriff arrived, Sam gave him all the information Lettie told him. Deputy Mark Severs wrote it all down and then took a couple pictures of the bruise. "Why did she come here?"

" 'Cause he's my dad," Lettie said.

"Is that so?" Severs asked Sam.

"It's a good possibility. We still have to wait for the DNA to be sure but the blood types match. AB positive isn't all that common. Look at the color of her hair and eyes. She looks just like my kid sister Rachel did at that age. It's a pretty good guess that I'm her father. Whatever the circumstances, I am not letting her go back into a situation where she's being abused."

# Chapter 14

Fred walked in with Lettie's supper and set it in front of her. "While she's eating, I'd like to talk to you two outside."

Sam fixed Lettie with a stern expression. "You just sit there until I come back. Understand?"

Lettie scrunched down like she'd like to disappear. "Yes, sir."

In a gentler tone he said, "Just eat your supper. I'll be back in a minute."

Severs and Fred were already outside talking in low voices. When Sam joined them, Fred explained, "Mark and I are going to talk to Mrs. Starks and her sister. I want both sides of the story. If it's like Lettie says, the sister might be arrested for assault or abuse of a minor. As the father of two, I know kids sometimes stretch things out of proportion."

"Coming from a large family, I know sometimes they understate them. The bruise is there. If not from Mrs. Starks' sister, who?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

Severs interrupted. "I'm going to call Mrs. O'Riley. She needs to know about this."

"Okay. Let me know how you make out." Sam went back inside and looked around. No Lettie. All that remained of her supper was the packaging. The bathroom door was shut.

Sam walked over and knocked on the door. "Lettie, are you in there?"

"Yeah. I'm poopin'."

"That's more than I need to know." Sam walked back to the table and gathered up the remains of the little girl's feast. The cup holding the milkshake was half full so he left it on the table.

He knew the instant Lettie opened the bathroom door. He strode swiftly to the bathroom. "Lettie, see this switch? It's a fan to take out the odors in the bathroom. You didn't eat that. It crawled up in you an died."

"Huh?

"Never mind." He flipped the switch and closed the door.

There was a knock on the door and he opened it to find Mrs. O'Riley there. "That didn't take long."

"I was already on my way when Mark called me. Mrs. Starks called me that Lettie had run away. I guessed she'd be here."

Lettie hid behind Sam and peeked around his leg. "Are ya gonna make me go back?"

Sam pulled her around in front. "Take a look at her cheek. She said Mrs. Starks' sister hit her."

"That's what Mrs. Starks said, too. She called me while Olivia was taking a shower. It seems like Olivia has just taken over the household."

Two big tears trickled down Lettie's cheeks. "She was real mean to Velma. 'Bout me. She said Velma never shoulda got me. She called me 'poor white trash.' What did she mean by that?"

"It means," Sam said, "that she's prejudiced against the poor. Mrs. O'Riley, I have a question. If the DNA comes back as no match, can I still adopt Lettie? It seems she needs a little stability in her life."

"And you can give her that?"

"It will take some adjustments, yeah. I can give her that."

"What kind of adjustments?"

Sam grinned. "I live in a one-room apartment on the second floor. I would need a larger apartment or a house. Also, I'm going to get married. Once Amy is back on her feet. Whatever it takes, I'll do it. I come from a large family so I'll have lots of help. Lettie can meet her grandparents."

"Ya mean I got a mammy an' a pappy?" Lettie was grinning from ear to ear.

"I think they would prefer to be called Grandma and Grandpa. A lot of aunts and uncles and cousins. Kinfolks by the dozen."

Lettie looked deflated. "What if they don't like me?"

"Don't worry about that. Mom never met a kid she didn't like. "

"Mr. Elliot...Corporal. I have little doubt that you are Lettie's natural father. One only needs to look at you and her to see the resemblance. And there is the blood type match. AB positive is not a common type."

"I know. That's why they're always glad to see me when I show up at a blood drawing. The local hospitals have my telephone number just in case they need a pint."

"I'll get the paperwork started first thing Monday morning. Right now I'm tired. I'm going home a take a good long soak in the tub and rest. I have a full weekend coming up."

****

"Elliot." Amy smiled as she heard the familiar voice on the phone.

"Hi, Briana gave me your phone number and a brand new cell phone so I can call you. It is so good to hear your voice."

"Hi, sweetheart. I miss you. How do you feel about having an eight-year-old stepdaughter?"

"You have proof then?"

"The DNA results aren't back yet but the blood type is. We're a match--AB positive. Even if she isn't my biological daughter, I'm going to a adopt her but I'm pretty sure she is my daughter. She's taking a bath right now or I'd send you a picture. She looks just like Rachel did at her age."

"She's there with you now?"

"Yup. Her foster mother's sister slapped her and she ran away. Fred and a deputy sheriff are on their way there right now. I wonder how that woman's going to feel when an FBI special agent comes knocking on her door. She'll surely be charged with something. All the excuses in the world aren't going to take away that bruise on Lettie's cheek.

"We're going to have to make a lot of adaptations. A one room apartment isn't going to work."

"Don't worry about it. I have Briana out looking for a new home with at least two bedrooms. I've got to get out of here. I thought moving to Suttonville Community would stop the media but they found out I'm here. They all want an exclusive story."

"You know how to stop that? Call a news conference--then it won't be exclusive--and have Briana read a statement from you. Give them just enough information to stop them. No questions. Have Briana tell them if they come to your hospital room you'll have them arrested. Have the nurses or hospital security put a sign on your door that says no media allowed."

"The voice of experience?"

"Yup. I have to go. There's someone at the door."

****

Sam opened the door to find the motel manager with a folding cot. He helped get it in the door. "The bedding is inside it." The manager left Sam to cope with it.

Just then Lettie came out of the bathroom wearing one of Sam's new white tee shirts. "Is that where I'm gonna sleep?"

"Yup. As soon as I get it set up." He unfolded the cot and made the bed. "There you go, sweetheart."

Lettie jumped on the bed and sat with her knees up, Sam's tee shirt pulled down over her legs.

"Don't sit like that. You'll stretch my tee shirt all out of shape. Pull the blanket up over your legs."

She complied with his command but it was plain she wasn't ready to go to sleep. "Can I change my name?"

"You will definitely change your name. From Sturmm to Elliot."

"I mean my first an' middle name, too."

"Don't you like your name?"

"It ain't that. I don't want them to be able to find me." Her blue eyes were wide and sparkled with unshed tears. "I want to be free of 'em ferever."

"Yeah. You can change it. Do you already have a new name picked out?"

She wiped her tears on the blanket. A wide grin spread across her face. "Cecelia Catherine Elliot. The nickname for Cecelia is Cece an' my initials would be CC."

Sam smiled back at her. "We'll see what we can do about it. I'm not familiar with the laws here in Alabama but I'd guess they're similar to Pennsylvania."

"Does it snow in Pennsylvania?"

"We usually get some snow every winter. Some more than others."

"Can I play in it an' build a snowman?"

"Sure. Isn't it time you go to sleep? It's past nine o'clock."

She snuggled down under the blanket but when a car door sounded outside, she sat up. "Is that the FBI agent?"

"Could be." Sam went to the door and opened it just as Fred was about to knock.

"I thought I'd come in and let you know the results of our investigation. Olivia tried to lie out of it but Mrs. Starks spoke up and said Lettie was telling the truth. What she said was pretty close to what Lettie told us. She said she'd get Lettie's things together so she has clean clothes. Lettie, she said she was sorry for what happened to you."

"'Tweren't her fault. She treated me good. A lot better'n the Strumms."

"When this is all said and done, the Strumms will be doing time for more than making meth and endangering the welfare of a child. They'll be in trouble for abducting a baby and taking her over state lines." Fred turned his attention to Sam. "I'm going to try to get your ex to make a deal: a new identity for information that will put this black market baby racket out of business for good."

"Fred, she's involved in it deeper than just selling Lettie. Those papers and money I found in that briefcase is proof that she's involved. You saw her apartment. You don't buy that kind of furniture on what she makes as a graphic artist."

Sam's cell rang and he picked it up from the table. "Wait a minute," he said to Fred. "It's Amy." He put the phone on speaker. "What's up? You miss the sound of my voice already?"

"I do miss you. I just want you to know you can go to the nearest Western Union office tomorrow and get the money I sent you. Five hundred dollars. Take Lettie shopping tomorrow."

"My name's Cecelia!" Lettie shouted. "I wanna be called Cece."

"Okay. Okay." Sam said. "You don't have to tell the whole state of Alabama. Go to sleep. I'm going outside a minute to talk to Amy."

****

"I'm going to check in at the office and then I'll be back." Fred left Sam and CeCe out at the front doors of a department store in the mall. "I have your cell number. I'll call you so I can find you."

Sam got out and opened the door for CeCe. "See you then." Sam was limping when they walked inside.

"Shoulda fetched yer crutches," CeCe observed. She quickly lost interest in Sam when she saw the racks full of girls' clothes.

"Whoa!" Sam caught her arm. "Before you get too enthusiastic there are a few rules. One, you don't buy anything I don't approve. Two, we aren't here to buy out the whole store. Three, you don't go running off from me. Four, if you don't listen to one, two and three, we go home without buying anything. Understand?"

"Yeah. Can I pick my own clothes?"

"As long as I approve them. Let's start with the first layer. Underwear and socks."

"And pajamas."

"What's your favorite color?"

"Purple."

"I think every girl your age likes purple."

"I like all colors. As long as it looks good."

After CeCe's selections were in the cart, Sam moved on to the men's clothes where he purchased tee shirts, shorts, socks and two pair of jeans. He paid for the clothes and picked up the two large bags. "Are you hungry?"

"Durn right. All I had fer breakfast was a doughnut."

Sam guided her into a restaurant and picked a booth near the back wall. He put the bags on one bench and sat down. CeCe scooted onto the bench across from him where she began to peruse the menu posted behind the counter. "Can I git a banana split?"

"Whatever your little heart desires," Sam answered.

When the waitress came over, CeCe told her, "A banana split. Do you have any buttscotch ripple ice cream?"

The waitress nodded. She began to write down CeCe's instructions. "Pineapple sauce an' chocolate syrup, nuts an' a cherry on top of each scoop of ice cream. Ya got that?"

The waitress smiled. "I got it. Now, sir, what will you have?"

"I'll make it easy for you. Ditto to what she wants."

"Is she your daughter?"

Sam grinned. "Yup."

"She looks a lot like you."

They were half finished with their banana splits when Fred walked up. "Scoot over," he told CeCe. He motioned for the waitress. "Whatever they're eating."

****

"Come in, gentlemen." The judge's secretary indicated the living room atmosphere. "The judge will be with you shortly.

At that moment the door opened and a short, gray haired woman entered. Instead of the traditional black robe, She wore a blue pantsuit. Both Sam and Fred stood up. CeCe slid off the couch and stood beside her father.

Judge Frances Rockwell sat down behind a small table and laid a folder in front of her. "Good morning. We are here to decide if Loretta Sturmm should be given into the custody of her natural father. I have read the paperwork and understand the situation. I have a few questions.

"First, Special Agent Weller, can you explain the FBI's role in this case."

Fred got to his feet. "Your honor, we are gathering evidence on a baby selling operation that spreads across the nation. We have the evidence to close down the location in Philadelphia. In fact, that may be happening as we speak. There is much more to do. This little girl became the victim of that operation when, within a few minutes of the time she was born, her mother sold her to Alma and Roy Strumm. I have here an avadavat from Alma Sturmm to that effect." Fred stepped forward and laid a paper before her. "We are trading amnesty and a new identity for her cooperation. She has agreed to never try to contact Loretta again."

CeCe tugged on Sam's sleeve and whispered in his ear. "Not now," he whispered back. "We'll get to that."

"Is there anything else you need to know?" Fred asked.

"No. You may be seated." She looked down at her paper and then at Sam. "Corporal Elliot. I have here the reports on both the DNA and blood test the give irrefutable proof that you are Loretta's biological father. I would like to know the circumstances that prevented you from stopping your wife from selling your daughter."

"Your Honor, I was in Iraq at the time. I never even knew that Lynn was pregnant. She never told me. I didn't know until about a year ago. I caught my wife in bed with another man. I divorced her. After that, she wanted to hurt me even more. She told me she gave the baby up for adoption. I spoke to her friend who told me she sold the baby. There's more to this but it's classified by the FBI on a need-to-know basis."

"I don't need to know. I think that's all I need. The paperwork should be available this afternoon."

CeCe stood up, "Your Honor, I have a question."

The judge smiled at her as she walked timidly forward. "Can I change my name?"

"Of course. You will change your last name to Elliot."

"I mean my first an' middle name, too." Tears wet her eyelashes. "I wannna fergit all 'bout the Strumms. I wannna make sure they never find me again. I'm afeared if Roy Strumm ever finds me he'll kill me. He said he would 'cause I called the cops 'bout 'em makin' meth."

"Your Honor," Fred stood up. "When we're through with Roy Strumm, I doubt he'll see the outside of a prison for a long time."

"For the child's peace of mind, I think a name change would be a good idea."

"I agree." Fred sat back down.

"Now, young lady, what would you like to change your name to?"

CeCe grinned from ear to ear. "Cecelia Catherine Elliot."

"That's a pretty name. Corporal Elliot, I would guess you already know about this."

"Oh, yes," Sam answered with a grin. "She has already decided that her nickname will be CeCe, both for her initials and as a nickname for Cecelia."

"There will be some papers for you to sign and a fee but it should all be ready by one o'clock."

"Good. Then I...we can leave for Pennsylvania in the morning."

"You aren't married, are you?"

"No. Engaged."

"Good. A girl should have a female role model."

Fred said, "Amy is a good woman. She works for the FBI. In fact, I'm her boss whenever she's able to get back to work."

"Isn't she well?"

"She was shot by a stalker but she also shot him. She's a brave woman."

"Wow!" CeCe breathed.

# Chapter 15

"I'm glad this ordeal is over. I'll never schedule two doctors' appointments the same day again." Amy opened the car door and swung her legs to the side so Kate could help her stand.

"Here's your walker. Nancy should have unlocked the sliding doors by now. She certainly should be back from grocery shopping." Kate followed Amy up the ramp that was just built the day before.

The house still needed a lot of work on it but Amy thought it could wait until Sam was home and they had an opportunity to discuss whether they were just going to rent the house or buy it. She didn't plan on putting a lot of money into someone else's house.

Amy went to the bathroom and then to the kitchen where Nancy Norman, Amy's assistant sat at the table with the laptop. "How did you make out with the doctors?" Nancy asked.

"Okay. I don't have to go back for two weeks. What are you up to?"

"Research. I got so mad at that adjustor that I told him he'd be hearing from your lawyer. I told him that if your claim isn't paid promptly, you will be switching insurance companies."

"That's what I told you to do. Did you get any ice cream?"

Nancy smiled up at her. "Sit down and I'll get it for you.? Kate, do you want ice cream, too?"

Amy sat down at the recently acquired table to eat her ice cream. Her shoulder hurt like hell. "Kate, will you please get me a pain pill? After I eat this I'm going to lie down and hope the pain will diminish."

Kate brought the pill with a glass of water. "You need to eat more than ice cream."

Amy nodded. "Later." When her ice cream was gone, she stood up and with her walker, headed to the room where her bed was. She slipped off her shoes and sat down. She swung her legs up to the bed and lay back. The incline of the bed was too much so she lowered it to a more comfortable position but not so low as to interfere with her breathing.

Kate came from the kitchen to pull the blanket over her. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Amy had an antique school bell that Sam's mother lent her so she could let Kate know when she needed help. She closed her eyes and sought some thoughts that would relax her. Instead she began to think about a problem that had plagued her since she had shot Sergus. Sam.

When he had taken off to Alabama she felt like she'd been abandoned. She knew she was wrong to think like that because Sam went to find his long lost daughter. And he had found her. Now they were on the way back home. She hoped that meant the house she rented and not Sam's apartment. Sam only had one bed in that apartment and it would not be proper for him to allow Lettie... CeCe to sleep with him.

Now that she had a couch in the living room, Sam could sleep there while CeCe slept on the folding cot that served as a daybed since Amy bought a mattress and box spring set for an upstairs bedroom for Kate. It would take time. Especially since she couldn't do the shopping for furniture herself.

Amy wondered if she truly loved Sam. It was so sudden that she hadn't had time to adjust. She wondered if marrying him was a good choice. She would know when he came home. She would know by the way he greeted her. She wondered about his daughter. Would the girl try to insert herself between Amy and Sam?

Her cell phone rang and she reached to the bed table to pick it up. "Hello, Sam. How are you today?" She tried to speak with sincerity.

"Tired. We're in a restaurant having lunch. Just south of the PA border. We'll be there in about two hours. I need directions to your house."

"I'll let you to talk to Nancy. She's lived here all her life. Nancy!" she called.

When Nancy came from the kitchen, Amy gave her the phone. "He wants directions to get here."

"Who?"

"Sam."

Nancy took the phone and gave him the necessary information. Apparently Sam said something funny because Nancy laughed. She handed the phone back to Amy. "He wants to talk to you again." Nancy returned to the kitchen giving Amy some privacy.

"I'll see you in a couple of hours. I love you."

"I love you, too," Amy replied. But she wondered if she really did. It was so easy to take advantage of the security she felt when she was with him. She had no doubts about Sam. She doubted her own ability to love again after all she'd been through. She just wanted to hide out in her rented house and heal from her physical wounds and the mental ones as well. She could feel the pain pill working and drifted off to slumber.

****

Sam guided the black Honda off the four lane and headed into town. Actually he was headed through town. The house Amy rented was on the northwest perimeter of the borough of Suttonville. Sam had been there before as a police officer responding to a domestic dispute. It was a couple of years back before he had Marty as a partner. He was still just a beat cop then. As a result of that response, he was promoted to corporal. It wasn't all smooth or by the book but no one got hurt and the husband went to jail for violating a PFA.

"The house is laid out like a big plus sign," Sam explained to CeCe. "There are porches in all four corners. I was only inside once and that was the living room. It's a big house."

"Can I have my own bedroom?" CeCe wondered.

"Sure. I don't see any reason you can't."

When Sam pulled in the long driveway, CeCe had her nose pressed against the window. "Wow. It is a big house." She was out of the car as soon as Sam stopped. They went up the walk to the porch with CeCe stopping on the porch to peer in the window.

"CeCe, come along now," Sam urged. She came up behind him and hooked her left hand into his right hip pocket as Sam pressed the doorbell.

A big blonde-haired woman in pink scrubs answered the door. "Hello, Sam. Come in. Amy's sleeping."

"Well I'm going to wake her up. Where is she?"

Kate pointed to an archway on her right. When Sam strode into the room, Amy was just standing up beside her bed. He caught her in his arms for a snug hug that brought a gasp of pain from Amy. He loosened his hold on her. "Sorry. It just feels so good to hold you in my arms again."

He lifted her and laid her down on the bed. "You're lighter than you used to be."

"For heaven's sake, Sam. I was shot. I nearly died. I still don't have much of an appetite. I have to force myself to eat."

Sam felt a tug on his hip pocket and looked down at CeCe. "Amy, I want you to meet my daughter, Cecelia Catherine Elliot. Aka CeCe."

"What's aka mean?" the little girl asked.

"Also known as," Sam answered.

Amy reached across her body holding her hand out to CeCe. "Welcome. I hope you like it here."

CeCe looked from Amy to her father. "I hafta pee."

"You just come with me, young lady," Kate said and led CeCe through an archway on the other side of Amy's bed. "This door is to the bathroom."

"What's the other one to?"

"The basement."

"Does it have a lotta hidin' places?"

Kate looked down in surprise. "Why do you want to know that?"

CeCe shrugged. "Jest in case someone gits mad at me."

It was easy to hear that exchange of words from the room where Amy's bed was. Amy looked appalled. "What has given her that perception?"

Sam shook his head. "Her life hasn't been easy. The couple that had her were ex-cons. The man used to beat his wife who in turn beat CeCe. Sometimes she talks about it a little; sometimes she doesn't. It will take time for her to learn she isn't going to get beaten here. They better keep Strumm locked up the rest of his life because if he ever crosses my path, I'll kill him."

"Ice cream in the kitchen," Nancy called.

"I'm hungry," Amy said.

"I can eat some ice cream," Sam countered.

Just as they got to the kitchen, CeCe came from the bathroom. "Did you wash your hands?"

Sam asked.

"Yup."

Sam took one of her hands. "Doesn't look or feel washed to me. Now go wash your hands. What did I tell you about lying to me?"

Nancy was scooping chocolate marshmallow ice cream into plastic disposable dishes. They gathered around the table.

When CeCe came from the bathroom she asked, "Can I have a banana split?"

"You can have a dish of ice cream and a banana." Nancy set a dish of ice cream on the table.

"I need to take that rental car back so I don't get charged for another day." Sam looked at his watch. "Do I have a volunteer to follow me and bring me back or must I get a cab?"

"I'll do it," Nancy offered. "I'm about through for the day."

****

"Turn right here. I need to get some things from my apartment."

Nancy parked in the gravel lot next to the apartment building. Sam saw Naomi come to the window. As they reached the bottom of the stairs up to his apartment, Naomi rapped on the window. She shoved up the sash. "I got your mail." She handed him a large brown envelope.

"Thanks, Naomi. You are a good landlady. I'm going to get some of my stuff. If I can get the help and the use of a truck, I should have the rest out tomorrow."

"You moving in with Amy?"

"Yeah." He turned to go upstairs.

As soon as they reached the kitchen, Sam dug out a box of garbage bags and pulled one out for Nancy. "Everything that isn't breakable."

"You are assuming a lot. I should be home cooking supper for my family. Today was my last day working for Amy because I go for surgery next week."

"What kind of surgery?"

"I have breast cancer."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." He reached for the bag but she stepped back.

"I can do the packing. You'll have to carry it down."

It took them an hour to pack up all Nancy's station wagon would hold. On the last trip down the steps, Sam carried a bag of trash to the dumpster that served the apartment building.

When they reached Amy's house, Nancy drove around to the porch that led into the kitchen. She took one of the lighter bags and went to hold the door open for Sam with his big bundle of bedding and clothes.

Kate put her finger to her lips to signal quiet. "They're both sleeping. I think CeCe was really tired but she tried to stay awake until you got back. She couldn't so she lay down with Amy and they both fell asleep."

Sam went quietly to the room where Amy's bed was. He took out his cell phone and snapped a picture of CeCe with her head on Amy's shoulder. He smiled at how quickly his daughter and Amy had made up. Then he carried in the rest of the bags with kitchen pots and pans and food. When he went out for the last bag, Nancy followed him out and opened the car door.

He set down the bag and took out his wallet, extracting a twenty dollar bill. "Thanks for helping. I hope your surgery works out okay."

Nancy hesitated but then accepted the money. "Tell Amy I'll be in touch."

Sam carried in the last bag. "This is mostly pots and pans." He stretched and yawned. "If Amy's bed was any bigger I'd go crawl in bed with them. I'm beat." He inhaled deeply. "What's cooking?"

"Breaded haddock filets, French fries and corn. It's easy to just heat it all up in the oven."

"How soon will it be ready?"

"As soon as I can get it on the table. Just let that stuff set there. I'll put it away when I do the dishes." Kate began to set the table for four."

CeCe came from the other room rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She shuffled over to give her father a hug. Then she walked to the bathroom.

Sam went to the room where Amy slept. She was sitting up on the edge of the bed. "CeCe went to the bathroom, didn't she?"

"Um-hum." Sam sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. He leaned in to drop a light kiss on her lips.

She turned her face up to him to accept it. "I'm hungry. I wonder when dinner will be ready."

"Kate said as soon as she can get it on the table." He stood up and leaned to see into the kitchen. "CeCe's out of the bathroom." He turned to her to take her hands to pull her to her feet.

"Just give me my crutch. I can walk with just one. I daren't put my full weight on my foot yet. I had a torn Achilles tendon."

****

"CeCe, go upstairs and pick out which room you want to be yours." Sam carried his and Amy's plates to the sink before following his daughter up the steps.

CeCe ran excitedly from one room to the next, checking out closets and looking out the windows. "I like this one best but that's Kate's room."

"That can be changed. Kate can have the east room. As soon as Dad and Mom get here, I'll have him help carry your cot up here and move Kate's mattress and box springs."

"What about Kate's stuff in the closet?"

"Why don't you go down and help her with the dishes so she can move her things?"

CeCe danced from one foot to the other. "I hafta pee first." She went in the bathroom and closed the door.

Sam went downstairs to tell Kate about the changes. He just set his foot on the last step when the doorbell rang. He redirected his steps to open the door. "Hi." He kissed his mother's cheek. "Dad, will you help me carry CeCe's cot upstairs?"

It took most of the day to move Sam's belongings from his apartment and storage facility. The loads from storage included antique furniture from his first marriage: An oval dining table with eight chairs and a huge breakfront with bowed glass doors; a large empire style sideboard that was too big for the dining room so they set it in the family room and put the TV on it; and a bedroom suite of a mahogany bedstead, chest of drawers and mirrored dresser. The bedstead and dresser went into the room where Kate had moved her belongings. In the family room where Amy's bed was, they set the sofa bed from Sam's apartment. The house was becoming a home.

Amy woke up just before 2 a.m. and hobbled off to the bathroom. When she returned to the family room, she stood looking down at Sam as he slept with one arm across his chest and the other flung up across the pillow. She pulled back the blanket and sat down, easing herself back to lie beside him.

He turned toward her. "Huh?"

"I didn't mean to wake you," she said softly. "I just want to lie next to you."

He gently pulled her into an embrace. "Do you feel up to it?"

"I think so as long as you don't get too rough. I'm not made of china."

"Soft and tender it is."

****

"Chief? Elliot here. Marty told me to call you."

"Yeah. Just a minute until I get paper and pen. How are you feeling?"

"Achy after helping move all my stuff to the house. I'll survive."

"Okay. Give me your phone numbers, cell first."

Sam gave him the numbers and waited for whatever was next. The chief didn't keep him waiting. "That hearing I got a continuance for. It's scheduled for tomorrow morning at nine. You better be there."

Sam drew a deep breath. "Yeah. Okay. I'll have to go to the station today and go over the file to refresh my memory. And I'll have to press my suit. Anything else?"

"Nope. I heard you found your daughter."

"News travels fast. I have to take her to school in the morning and get her registered. I'll go right from the school to the district justice's office."

"When the hearing's over, come by the station. We've got to account for the time you were off. We might be able to get you a disability claim since you were wounded twice. We'll thresh it all out tomorrow. Get some rest while you can. I'm planning to put you behind a desk for a few weeks."

Monday morning Sam dressed in his gray suit and white shirt with his blue and gray striped tie. He drove CeCe to school and went along in to give the principal the fat brown envelope that contained her school records. "She's in second grade," he explained. "She was held back because she missed too many days."

"Don't you like school?" Principal Darla Weeks asked.

"I love school," CeCe responded. "I was kept home as punishment if I did somethin' wrong."

"That's a new one for me," Mrs. Weeks said.

Sam glanced at the clock. "I have to be in a hearing before nine. Can you see that she gets on the right bus home?"

"I'll see that someone takes care of it."

# Sam hurried to his car and drove to the magistrate's office. "Your too late," he was told. "Nolan waived his right to a hearing and it will go to trial."

Sam felt deflated. He had prepared himself for this hearing for nothing. "I might as well go back to the station and find out what the chief's got stuck in his craw."

# Chapter 16

"I need to go to the Laundromat," Kate said as she walked into the living room where Amy sat reading. "Shall I call a cab."

Amy marked her place and closed her book. She stood up and with her one crutch under her right arm she hobbled to the family room and sat down on the couch. Picking up the phone book, she hunted up the number for the local Lowe's store. She told the woman who answered what she wanted. "A washer and dryer. I must have it delivered immediately because I need to do laundry and my fiance has my car." She negotiated on which ones she wanted and settled on a mid-price range. "Just put it on my credit card. You should have my address from when you delivered the stove and refrigerator last week. Yes, that's correct. An hour. Fine."

Amy hung up and looked up at Kate. "They said about an hour. While I'm making calls I might as well call the medical supply place and have them come get that bed. I'll be sleeping with Sam from now on."

"You might want to keep that wheelchair in case you want to go to the store or something. You shouldn't be walking very far with the ankle like it is. If you don't need me for anything else right now, I'll go upstairs and vacuum the part of the house that's being used up there."

Amy heard the vacuum cleaner start just as the phone rang. It was the nurse from her doctor's office. "We have the result of your blood tests. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good. I'm awfully tired a lot of the time and I still weak. I'm hungry all the time."

"That's to be expected. You are anemic and the doctor called in a prescription for iron pills. It is not unusual for a pregnant woman to feel tired in the early stages of her pregnancy."

"What? I'm pregnant?"

"That's what the blood test says. Dr. Rashad will refer you to an ob/gyn doctor."

Amy carefully replaced the phone in its cradle. "I wonder what Sam will think about that." She picked the phone back up and called to have them come to pick up the hospital bed.

Kate came down a short time later. "Kitty just called. She was in an automobile accident and has a broken femur. She's wants me to come home to take care of the kids and do the housework. I told her that was a crumby way to get a vacation."

"Go ahead. I'm fine. By the time you pack, I'll have your pay figured out along with a bonus for being such a good person. Oh, I just got a call from the doctor. I'm pregnant."

Kate grinned. "That's what happens when you sleep with a man."

Amy waved her hand. "Go pack."

By mid-afternoon the washer and dryer were installed, the hospital bed was gone and Amy was exhausted. She decided to let the laundry for Sam to do. She had time for a nap before she had to make dinner. Kate had laid out some chicken breasts to thaw and Amy planned to make a stir-fry.

She went to the living room and collapsed on the rust brown velour couch. It seemed like she had hardly closed her eyes until CeCe came bounding in the door. "Mom! Mom! Can I get a puppy? Please, please, please." She giggled and held her hand over her mouth. "I called you Mom."

"So you did. Oh, goodness I should have put that chicken on a half hour ago."

"Can I have a puppy?"

"You will have to ask your father. I don't mind." Amy shoved herself to her feet, picked up her crutch and hobbled along to the bathroom. When she came out, CeCe was dancing around the kitchen.

"Where's Kate?"

"Her daughter has a broken leg so Kate went home."

CeCe hopped from one foot to the other. "Sylvia said they have five puppies to give away and I get first choice." A couple more hops. "I hafta pee." She popped into the bathroom and closed the door.

"Don't forget to wash your hands," Amy called. She smiled and shook her head. She would have to get used to this child rearing business. She hadn't planned on becoming an instant mother of an eight year old. She didn't have the opportunity to raise her from babyhood.

She was chopping vegetables when CeCe came back to the kitchen and stood watching her.  
"I'm hungry."

"Dinner will be ready by the time Dad gets home. Do you have any homework?"

"I did that on the bus. Sylvia lives just down the street a ways. I like her a lot."

"I'm glad you found a friend so soon. It's not fun to start out in a new school in the middle of a semester."

"Mrs. Weeks--she's the principal--said they're gonna have me take some tests to find out how much I know. She's gonna start with the second grade test. I don't know when she's gonna do it though." She snatched a piece of celery from the cutting board.

"Look. I don't want you reaching in like that when I'm using a knife. You could get cut. If you want something, ask for it." Amy scraped the vegetables from the board into the frying pan where the chicken was already frying. She stirred it good and went to the pantry for a box of instant rice. "Want to learn how to set the table?"

"Sure. But I'm not tall enough to get the dishes out of the cupboard."

"I'll do that for you."

When the table was set and the stir-fry was ready, Amy sat down at the table to rest her ankle. She'd been walking around the kitchen without her crutch. When her cell phone rang, she said, "CeCe, will you please bring that here?"

It was Sam. "Tell Kate she better have plenty for supper because I'm starved."

"Kate went home." She explained about the accident. "I've made dinner. It's ready whenever you get here."

"See you in ten." He disconnected.

"We might as well put dinner on the table. He's on his way home."

CeCe began her bouncing from one foot to the other. "Oh, goody. I can ask him about a puppy." She ran to the family room so she could see the driveway. "There he is!" She tore through the kitchen and out the door.

Amy shook her head. What was she going to do with this wild child?

Sam came in ahead of CeCe. He bent to kiss Amy on the lips. "I am so tired and hungry. I'll be ready to eat as soon as I get out of this suit." He went to the chest of drawers in the family room to find a pair of jeans. No jeans. He found a pair of khakis in the front closet. Kicking off his shoes, he headed for the bathroom.

"Where's CeCe?" Amy asked when he emerged.

"She's sulking because I told her I didn't want to talk about a puppy right now. I just want to eat supper and rest." He opened the door and yelled, "CeCe, get in here. It's time to eat."

They sat down at the table and Sam asked the blessing. While they filled their plates, Sam asked, "Will you be all right here alone? I'm back to work as a desk jockey for now. I have an appointment with the doctor on Thursday to find out if I can go back on patrol."

"I'll be fine. How did your hearing go today?"

"It didn't. Before I got there the guy waived the right to a hearing and the case will go to trial. I drove up to the county seat for nothing."

"Dad?"

"You want to talk about a puppy, right?"

"Please, Dad. Mom said it was all right with her?"

Sam shot Amy a grin. "Mom?"

"When she got home she was so excited about getting a puppy she called me Mom without thinking about it. I don't mind. We are going to get married, aren't we?"

"Definitely. I don't know how soon..."

"Soon." Amy's tone had a note of finality about it.

Sam's eyebrows went up.

"I'll explain later."

"Dad, Sylvia lives right down the street. It's close enough to walk. She said I can have my pick."

"After we eat, we'll go have a look. I should help Amy with the dishes."

"I'll do the dishes. You get to do laundry when you come back. My ankle hurts too much to be going up and down stairs. I had a washer and dryer installed. I also found out there is a laundry chute in the corner of the bathrooms. All you need to do with the dirty clothes is drop them in the chute and they go right to the basement."

"Cool," CeCe said.

****

"I've been trying to get a chance to talk to you all evening. I think you're as excited about that puppy as CeCe is."

Sam leaned back on the couch in the living room and Amy settled in beside him. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked.

"I'm pregnant."

"Huh?"

"You heard me."

"I guess we should get married right away. I could pick you up on lunch break and we can go up to the courthouse to apply for a license. There's a three day waiting period before I can pick up the license and another three day waiting period before we can get married. That would be next Monday. I suppose I should call Mom and Dad. You need to call you mother, too."

"After we're married. If I call her before she'll be on the first plane east and then she'll want to plan everything. I want a simple ceremony in a justice's office with no fuss. I'm too weak for a lot of celebrating."

"And here I thought I could get you drunk on champagne and make wild love all night."

"And what would you do with CeCe?"

CeCe called from the kitchen. "Mom, Jinx just peed on the floor."

"Welcome to life as a puppy owner," Amy called back.

Sam chuckled as he stood up. "I'll handle it."

****

"Elliot."

"This is Mrs. Weeks, principal at the elementary school."

"Yes, ma'am. I know who you are."

"I spoke to your wife about Cecelia. She said you have her car."

Sam interrupted. "You spoke to my fiancee. What about Cecelia?"

"She got into a fight on the playground at lunch time."

"Is she hurt?"

"Some scrapes and bruises. You must come and get her. She is suspended for three days for fighting. It is not permitted."

"I'll be right there." Sam hung up and called the chief. "I need to go pick up CeCe at school. She's being suspended for fighting. I'm in uniform and I'm not taking the time to change. Just thought you'd like to know."

"Okay. Go ahead."

Sam strode into the school office and said to the woman behind the counter, "I'm here to pick up Cecelia Elliot."

"The conference room." She pointed to a door. "Just knock and go on in."

Sam did as he was told. He hadn't even closed the door when a woman seated at the table spoke up loudly, "You called the cops on us!"

Sam looked across to the other end of the table where Mrs. Weeks sat and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders to indicate he wasn't aware of what was going on.

Mrs. Weeks indicated the chair at the near end of the table. "Please sit down, Corporal. When the other parents get here, we'll try to get this sorted out."

Sam looked at CeCe who sat just to his right. "You have some explaining to do, young lady."

The skinny bottle platinum blonde to his left said, "She's you daughter?"

CeCe had a pinched look like she would like to cry but wouldn't give her opponents that satisfaction. Her voice was hardly above a whisper. "I tried ta walk away like ya told me but they follered me." Her look became defiant. "Ya said I shouldn't hit anybody unless it was self defense. I didn't."

"Was it?"

"Ask them!"

"What can you tell me, boys?"

"Corporal, this isn't an interrogation," Mrs. Weeks reminded him.

"If it were, I would talk to each child separately so they couldn't use each other's story to make it sound the same."

"I'll talk to you, sir," the smallest boy said. "But not here where they can hear me."

"My office," Mrs. Weeks said.

Sam and the boy followed her to her office one door over from the conference room. After she left them alone, they sat down facing each other. "Why are you afraid to tell me in front of the others? By the way, what's your name?"

"Todd Busser. If they hear me tell the truth, they'll try to get even. They're all bigger than me."

"And you are all bigger than CeCe."

Todd gave a miserable nod. "Alex was taunting her about the way she talked. She walked away like she said. He followed her calling her 'redneck' and 'poor white trash.' When I said he shouldn't do that he call me a wimp. Like I said, he's bigger than me. I was scared he'd turn on me if I told."

"Thank you for being so honest with me, Todd. In my line of work we call that cooperating with the police. It's a good thing to do. Does Alex bully other kids?"

"B-bully?"

"That's what this is. Does he bully other kids?"

Todd nodded. "He picks on smaller kids who don't have a circle of friends to help them. Cecelia just started school here and doesn't have a lot of friends yet."

Sam smiled. "You could be her friend if you call her CeCe instead of Cecelia. Well, shall we go back to the lion's den and see what's going on?"

As they entered the conference room a man sitting in the chair Sam had vacated to go to the office sprang to his feet. "I did not give you permission to interrogate my son without me present."

Sam said in a calm voice, "Mr. Busser, I did not interrogate your son. He said he had something to tell me in private. I felt it was my duty to listen what he had to say especially if it will help clear this matter up quickly."

Busser sat back down and Todd went over to lean against him. "It's okay, Dad. I just told him what really happened."

Busser looked up at Sam who nodded. Sam then looked at Mrs. Weeks. "Let's get this done. I have to make a trip up to the courthouse today."

"You aren't going to charge the boys?" she asked.

"Not this time but if they get into any more trouble this incident is still within the statute of limitations. From what CeCe told us and Todd confirmed to be true, this is a case of bullying. Middle School students who are older and bigger than CeCe singled her out because she didn't have any friends to stand up with her in defense so she handled it the only way she knew how. According to Todd, CeCe isn't the only younger student they've bullied."

Sam pointed out each boy, "If the police department gets any more complaints about any of you bullying anybody, you will be charged with harassment. Mrs. Weeks do you have an anti-bullying program in the elementary school?"

"I didn't think it was necessary but it seems I was wrong."

"I handle these programs. If you'd like to set one up call me at work. I'm doing one at the high school next week. I like to get them all done before Thanksgiving."

"For the Middle School you must talk to Mr. Dolan."

"I'll do that." He touched CeCe's shoulder. "Let's go, tiger. I've got to be moving to get everything done today. I don't have time to take you home so you'll learn what the inside of a police station looks like."

# Chapter 17

"With this ring I thee wed." Sam slipped the ring on Amy's finger. It was of white gold with tiny diamonds.

"With this ring I thee wed." Amy slid the wide platinum band on Sam's finger.

"By the power invested in me by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Sam put his hands on Amy's shoulder and she turned her face up to receive his kiss. The District Justice filled out the marriage certificate and had them sign it. Brianna and Sam's oldest brother Silas signed as witnesses. The justice imprinted his seal and handed Sam their copy.

CeCe came running to them with a smile from ear to ear. "Now we're all one family," she said and reached up to her father. He lifted her and kissed her cheek. She slathered a juicy kiss on his cheek. Amy put her hand on Sam's shoulder and CeCe leaned over to kiss her.

"Do you serve towels with your baths?" Amy asked.

"Just hold it right there," Briana said as she snapped their pictures.

They all went to O'Brien's for lunch except for Silas. He went home to finish harvesting the corn still standing on his farm.

They moved two tables together to seat six. Sam and his father at the ends with Amy on Sam's left and CeCe on his right. His mother sat on his father's right and Briana between him and CeCe.

"I think CeCe is happier about you two getting married than you are," Briana commented.

"We're all one big family," CeCe declared. "Except you." She looked up at Briana.

"Will that get me kicked out?" Briana countered. "I'm a friend of your parents. I can be your friend, too."

"Yeah," CeCe crowed and gave her a high five.

By the time they arrived home at two o'clock, Amy was exhausted. "Just one more thing to do," Sam observed as he unlocked the door. "CeCe, open the door." He swept Amy up in his arms and carried her across the threshold. When he set Amy down he had a worried look on his face. "I'll bet you don't weigh a hundred pounds."

"Sam, I almost died. It takes time to come back from something like that. I'm just so tired."

"Go lay down. I'll put the car in the garage right after I answer the door." He opened the door to a uniformed deliveryman. "Can I help you?"

"I looking for a Amy Hollister."

"You've come to the right place. Only she's Amy Elliot now. We just got married."

"I'm Amy Hollister Elliot." Amy stepped up beside Sam.

"Can I see some ID?"

"What's this for?" she asked warily.

"I have a secure packet to deliver and I'm supposed to make sure I put it the hands of Amy Hollister."

"Sam, please bring my purse. It's hanging in the back of the closet." When he brought it Amy pulled out her gun. "Put this where CeCe won't find it."

"You carry a gun in your purse?" the man at the door asked.

"I have a permit to carry concealed anywhere in the US. I work for the FBI." She pulled out her work ID.

"That's a good enough ID for me." He wrote down the type of ID and handed the clipboard to her. "Sign here." He poked his finger at the line.

She signed and he handed her a brown envelope. She close the door as she looked at it. "It's from the insurance company. Probably more forms to fill out." She tore open the packet and sank down on the couch. "It's a certified bank check for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars." She sat a minute staring at it. "I have to take this to the bank right away."

"I'll drive," Sam volunteered.

"Can I come, too?" CeCe asked.

"Of course you'll come," Amy said. "We can't leave you here alone. Put Jinx back on the porch so she doesn't mess in the house."

At the bank, they changed their separate checking accounts into one joint account and Amy deposited a hundred thousand dollars. The rest went into her savings account until she figured out what to do with it.

"Now we go to a car dealership. I want my car back. You get to pick out whatever vehicle you want and you can write the check for it. I'll wait in the car. I don't feel so good."

Sam hesitated at the car lot. "Are you sure..."

"Go. Go."

"Dad, can I go with ya?"

"Come on."

Sam chose a red Chevy Silverado with a king cab. Amy didn't wait for the paperwork to be done before she headed for home.

****

"Don't make any plans for Saturday morning," the chief said as he walked out of the station beside Sam.

"I already have plans," Sam returned.

"Anything that can't be changed until afternoon. There's a press conference scheduled at the middle school auditorium. I'd like it if you'd be there."

Sam frowned as he thought about. "About what? Why do I have to be there?"

"It's about the changes in the department. You have to be there because I said you do."

"We need to go grocery shopping. I don't want Amy to go alone. She's still pretty frail."

"Bring her along. I understand she's up for a citation for uncommon valor in the face of danger. From the FBI, ATF and the Philadelphia Police Department. It took a lot of guts for her to shoot Sergus as he was trying to inject her with poison."

"She doesn't like being in the media spotlight. They hounded her for an exclusive. That's why she left the hospital when she did. What about CeCe?"

"Bring her. I'd like to meet her."

"I'll think about it."

"You better be there."

"Okay. But I won't force Amy to come if she doesn't want to. She hasn't been feeling well lately."

Sam got the reaction from Amy he expected. "No! Absolutely not."

"Do it for me, sweetheart."

She sat down on his lap and ruffled his hair. He closed his arms around her. "Please."

"You aren't going to let me be until I say yes, are you?"

"The chief says I have to be there. Something about changes in the department. Scuttlebutt is that Albert's leaving."

"Maybe you'll finally get your promotion."

He kissed her. "If I do I'd like you to be there."

"I knew you'd find a way to talk me into it. How am I supposed to dress?"

"However you like. I have to wear my uniform."

"Do you want your wife showing up in a sweatshirt and blue jeans?"

"I'll love you whatever you wear. Even if it's nothing." He grinned down at her. "Especially if it's nothing."

"Mom! Jinx pooped on the floor."

Sam scooted Amy off his lap and went to the kitchen. "Did you take her out like you're supposed to?"

"I forgot. I'm tryin' to get my homework done."

Sam cleaned up the mess. "The next time you 'forget' you will clean it up. Your homework should be easy. You had the same thing last year."

"It's boring doing it all again."

"Just do it and quit your whining. Did they ever do that testing to see how smart you are?"

"For the second grade. You should be getting a letter in the mail."

Sam went back to the family room and sat down beside Amy. "You could wear the suit you wore for our wedding."

"I could. It's winter white. That will work. CeCe can wear the dress I bought her for the wedding. What time?"

"The chief wants me there at nine thirty but I have to go to the station to change into my uniform. You can bring CeCe with you. The news conference begins at ten."

They already had everything set up by the time Amy and CeCe arrived. Sam motioned for her to come up on the stage to where three folding chairs sat.

"This is where we sit," he informed her. "Me, CeCe and you."

Amy sat down on the chair he indicated. "Go down in the audience and tell me if you can see up my skirt."

Sam did as she said. "I like what I see but I don't want anyone else seeing what I see."

She moved to the other end. "Now?"

"Not as much. Still showing a lot of leg though."

She rearranged the chairs at an angle and sat down on the third chair. "Now?"

"Okay."

CeCe sat on the middle chair. "Does it matter if anyone can see up my dress?"

"You're wearing tights. You should still sit like a lady though."

CeCe sat up straight and folded her hands on her lap. "Like this?"

"Yes. That's very good." Amy gasped in surprise when she noticed the sergeant's stripes on Sam's uniform. She beamed him a wide smile. "So look who's a sergeant now."

He grinned. "The stripes were already on my uniform when I got to the station."

On the other side of the podium were two men and Candy Musco. Special Agent Fred Weller sat beside Candy and the other man she did not know. The chief came to the podium and surveyed his audience--newspaper and TV media.

"I called this news conference to let the public know about the changes within the police department. Sergeant Albert is being moved into public relations but first he will be taking a course at Quantico. Sam Elliot has been promoted to sergeant. He will also take over the detective duties. In addition I would like to award Sergeant Elliot the Medal of Valor for the wounds he got last month. First for saving Mrs. Hollister's life. Only now she's Mrs. Elliot. The other wound was received when he was trying to rescue Amy from the stalker who kidnapped her. Sam, come over here."

Sam stood up and went to stand at attention before the chief. He saluted after the chief slipped the medal around his neck. The chief shook his hand and stepped back so Sam could get to the podium.

When the clapping stopped, Sam said, "I'm not sure I deserve this medal. I am very grateful for the promotion." He turned to address the chief. "Does a raise come with this promotion?"

"Yes. We'll talk about that later."

Sam went back to his seat.

The chief went back to the podium. "I'd like to introduce to Captain Shively of the Philadelphia Police Department. "Captain." The chief stepped back.

"I'd like to present the civilian Medal of Exceptional Courage in the face of adversity to Mrs. Elliot. When she was lying in a hospital bed from being shot in the back by the man who had stalked her, that stalker came to her room, dressed as a doctor and tried to give her a shot of a lethal drug. Despite that she was lying there wounded she fought back and managed to get her gun and shoot him. Amy, come over here."

With the audience applauding, Amy came forward and let him slip the ribbon with the medal over her head. "Thank you," she choked. "I don't know what to say." She wiped at tears with the hand. "I was fighting for my life not for a medal."

The captain sat down and Fred came forward. "Don't sit down yet, Amy. I'm FBI Special Agent Fred Weller and I'm Amy's boss whenever she is well enough to come back to work. Amy, on behalf of the FBI I would like to present you with this citation for performance above and beyond the call of duty. When you come back to work, you will be going to Quantico for additional training and become an agent." Fred handed her an engraved plaque.

Amy choked up and couldn't speak. Sam came up and embraced her. "You knew about this, didn't you?" she accused.

"Yup. I knew." He guided her back to her chair as the chief began telling the media about additional changes that would give the public better access to police services.

Sam and Amy walked out to the parking lot. "I'll be home as soon as I go to the station and change back to my civies." He opened the back door of Amy's car for CeCe who threw her arms around his neck. He gave her a squeeze and said, "I'll be home soon and then we'll go out to celebrate."

###

# About the Arthur

Ruth Ann Hixson is a retired journalist who has lived in central Pennsylvania all her life.

She writes novels, short stories and poetry. Other books she has written are No Plans for Love and Lost Memories. In the works are A Cowboy's Love and Poetry A to Z.

