 
### Sacrificial Lamb

### By M.M. Maxwell

### Smashwords Edition

### Copyright 2013 M.M. Maxwell

(https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/authormmmaxwell)

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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

¬People who make shit up to write about can only imagine it. I've lived it.

### 1) January 2008, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

I've had empty hours that seemed to stretch into eternity to look back and reflect on what I might have done to make things different. For some reason my thoughts keep returning to a particular night in 2008 that I sat in the parking lot of the Ralphs grocery store in South Lake Tahoe. At the time, it seemed like an unimportant night; no different from any other.

I was in my Subaru with both front windows down and the heater running full blast. There had been a record snow fall that week and while the night was bright and clear, the islands in the parking lot were loaded six feet high with puffs of snow that had been circumvented by the plows that diligently worked to keep the lanes clear. It was so picturesque, like ice cream or frosting dollops, that I wondered if the planners had designed the islands with as much consideration for their winter dress as they did for the shade the evergreens they held provided in the heat of the summer.

I was choking on my third cigarette which I wasn't enjoying when my son called. This was odd. He was 15 and had gotten permission to spend the night at a friend's house. It was curious that he would call me now, when he had made every conceivable effort to avoid me in the last six months, and he had a 24 hour pass that hadn't expired.

"What's up buddy?"

"I don't know. I was just seeing what you were doing." (I could hear the sleep in his voice as he spoke in a low whisper.)

"I am in the parking lot at Ralphs waiting for your dad to pass out. He threw a fit again. What are you doing?"

"Everybody's asleep here. I don't know what to do."

"Well I can come get you but I don't know where I'd take you. I would be picking you up from a warm house to take you to sit in a parking lot, in the freezing cold to wait for a monster to go to sleep".

I went on to ask where in the house he was and who all was there with him. He described the den and dropped the names of some kids I had heard before. I was careful. Too much inquiry would alienate him and he'd cut me off, yet there was something in that when he woke in a dark room in a strange house, he had called me. My heart beat a little faster and I held my breath as I waited for the overwhelming feelings of love I had for this child to pass back into the recesses of oblivion where I needed them to remain in order to keep functioning.

We hung up and I occupied my mind filling in what hadn't been said. Why a game room full of high energy testosterone infused teenage boys would be asleep at 11pm was easy. Only pot or some variation thereof could unanimously suck the life out of a room full of potential and vigor. Personally, I hated the shit. It hadn't ever done anything for me and everyone I had ever known who had used it to any degree was a looser.

The trouble then was, when I weighed the options for my first born, my offspring, the only means by which we are truly guaranteed life everlasting – marijuana was safe. It would put him in a holding pattern until something better in life came by than the hell he called home.

I often wonder what paths our lives might have taken had I done things differently that night. I might have picked Ray2 up and taken him to an all-night diner; spoken to him; maintained some sort of semblance of unity, but I didn't. It was later, when I could find no peace thinking again and again how I had willingly left him to that path, how I had abandoned my responsibilities toward him that I was blinded to all sense of decency and morality, that I was driven to absolute desperation, and took the steps that eventually lead us here.

### 2) August 1998, Panama City, Florida

You could hear Marshall's voice through the thin walls of the house we had acquired for the summer. You could tell he was talking to someone, or several someones but you couldn't hear anything but a low hum in the breaks between Marshall's high pitched dramatic whaling. I was listening pretty closely because while I encouraged creative play, that damn Marshall was getting louder and more emphatic by the moment. He had a wonderful way about him but at times you could see it was just an act calculated to put you at ease until he was comfortably situated and could express himself more freely. Even that in of itself was endearing in that it was unusual – in fact unheard of – in a child that age to have such meticulous control over the persona he projected although that persona at the moment was approaching overbearing.

I got up from the computer and crossed the 10 foot narrow living space through the screened porch, across the muggy mosquito ridden yard to the tool shed where the closer I came, the more the other voices came into focus between Marshall's ranting. I stopped just outside the door listening to the repeated rhythmic sound of my son's patient, adamant replies to Marshall's raving. I was trying to figure out if they were playing or negotiating, either of which would be time well spent, were it not for the ever present fear looming that one day Marshall's ranting might actually have meant something and I could just hear myself then.

"Yes, officer, this is a day care and I am licensed for 12. No, officer I don't have the required second adult on property. Yes, officer, the child was yelling at the top of his lungs for well over a half hour. Yes, officer, I ignored it and sat my computer writing children's books while he screamed..."

Not good.

I knocked on the old wood door and pulled it open to see four of the kids I kept, had still not been picked up by 7pm, and my two, all with children's play clothes on, dirty and sweaty from a hard day at play, each with a few pieces of costume adornment that transformed them into the character they had morphed into for the performance. All that is except Marshall who was in an old bridesmaid dress, fully and badly made up with his uncut hair ratted into a beehive, and a wand with a glittery star at its tip. To top it off he had on the red sparkly Dorothy slippers that we had picked up at a yard sale that weekend which clashed horribly with the yellow dress.

Everyone froze in place, faces turned toward me taking a moment to transport their minds from the make believe to the real world. It was like the surgeon general showing up in a Pokémon cartoon or a fully animated smoky the bear showing up at mass; does not compute.

Then Ray2 came forward with his hands and arms extended to stop me from entering and turn me around in one gentle motion. He was only seven but spoke with control and authority emphasized by his bearing. He was mostly assumed to be about 10 as nothing in his size, looks, manner or speech would have clued you into his real age. While gently, physically pressing me outside beyond the range of the space needed to shut the door he was saying "Everything is fine mom, it's all good, and can you go back inside for about 15 minutes?" I could see in a moment everyone frozen in space waiting until my exit to resume their rolls.

While Ray2 hadn't shown any signs of the sort of persuasion Marshall had, he had a healthy appreciation for how valuable Marshall was. Marshall was brilliant, exciting and imaginative, a rare combination in a six year old and Ray2 wanted to assure me everything was under control before I disturbed the magic they had created with a few mismatched bits of costume in a ragged shack, in the oppressive muggy twilight on that hot Florida night.

You could take what Ray2 said to the bank. Even at 7 he was the most dependable person I had ever known. Well in as much as you can depend on a 7 year old so I guess I would say "predictable" which is a form of dependable. We wondered where all that structure came from, but later, that is in retrospect, you could understand. Humans adapt to their environment and he did what he needed to do to function. For my part, when your world is rocking you search for that which is predictable, a fixed object in the distance upon which you can set your course and believe it or not at that time mine was a 7 year old. When I think of that, using my seven year old as a life preserver it shames me.

You can never explain to someone what it is like to live with abuse. It is like explaining color to a blind person, music to the deaf, or explaining anything that requires you to experience it to understand. Ninety nine percent of the time it makes no sense. It serves no purpose; it destructs, destroys, and mutilates everything in its path. Who, who was not insane, would do that to their own? Abusers do it every day, though why, eludes me.

### 3) November 2007, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

Tahoe was different. For all the obvious reasons; the dry air, the snow, the tourist culture, and for some reasons not so obvious. Both Panama City and Tahoe were host to the "have and have not" societies but there was a distinct difference in the class structuring. The South was about lineage and out west it was about education. In the South people wanted to know where you came from and out west they wanted to know where you were going.

The lake was surrounded by a mix of wealthy older yuppies whose income was mysteriously unexplained. Most seemed to not work regular hours and not clock in anywhere. When they weren't filling their days with grand philanthropic ventures they were skiing in the winter, boating in the summer, or off on vacation somewhere else.

Then there were the local service people who scraped a living out of servicing the wealthy and the huge tourist industry. Included in this group was the suddenly significant number of Mexican immigrants though if they could really be counted as part of the population was questionable as they conducted their lives as though they were fugitives, surreptitiously moving from car to house, shopping in cloistered groups, never showing their faces. What was up with that? They were safe here. They had found a home under the protection of the philanthropic yuppies who had time and money to see to the needs of the masses. They hadn't, when we left Panama City, yet found a home there as the "have nots" were a large portion of the population in the old South and there wasn't room for more.

Things were different in our house that year as well. Suddenly, there was money. I should have questioned it but in my defense there was not so much of it that I should have been alarmed and besides that's another story. Ray was always really tight but there were things we had that we had never been able to afford. Ray2 and Eve got seasons passes for the ski lifts. There wasn't enough to get me one so I only skied once that winter but I was thrilled they could join their friends. We hadn't had any measure of joy in years. This was significant. We bought them ski gear as well. It was all 90% off last year's prime season prices but it was something that I would only have dreamed of getting previously. And the shopping changed. No more Goodwill clothes. I still had to ask for and argue for every pair of shorts and shoes but still in all there were new shorts and shoes. And that Christmas, there were computers and cell phones all around. I viewed them as things everyone else had so it didn't seem as though we were living extravagantly enough to be alarmed. And besides, when you are drowning, you don't ask where the lifeline came from; you just grab it.

Right about then, Ray2's grades started to drop. He had never gotten anything below an A and now he had two B's and a C. True they were in honors classes but still it was of concern. He began to get sullen and grew his hair out from the very conservative, classic boy cut he had been wearing since he was 5. He had suffered from bouts of depression since he was 6 or 7 and then he came to me in angst complaining that he had been talking to me about it for 10 years and I had never done anything about it. So I talked to Ray, again, and after a month of relentless arguing, he finally agreed. After all, we had insurance now, again something we had never been able to afford so I started Ray2 with a psychologist. After the first meeting he told Ray2 he wanted to talk to me.

I spent an hour with the man and when I got home I went to bed at 11 o'clock and could not get up. If you have never vented and never talked to anyone about your problems for 15 years, when they come out, it just about kills you. We just touched the tip of the ice burg and reliving it all, in just one hour, kind of validates it. Did I actually live through all that? Realistically, I had told him nothing, just a small representation so he could understand that what Ray2 said was real.

I actually had been to a psychologist before. Once, right before we moved to Florida. Madeline paid for it. I was falling apart. It was just one hour but I sat and told her a lot that had happened and that I knew Ray was at fault. I didn't need her to tell me that. I could blame him all by myself. What I wanted was some help pulling myself together so I could maintain for my kids. And second, to know what I had done to cause this mess. To the first she said "If as you say, you won't or can't leave him, I can't help you". To the second she said "What you did - was 'nothing'".

### 4) September 1998, Panama City, Florida

Thursday night all the kids were picked up by seven and it was quiet. Ray2 and Eve and I were sitting at the kitchen table scrapbooking when we heard a big crash out on the front porch. My stomach lurched and I told Ray 2 and Eve to sit tight. As I crossed the living room I heard several more crashes and bangs before the door flew open and Ray fell in, red and glassy eyed, trying to focus. He was bad off and I knew this meant trouble. I started backing up out of range when Ray's eyes looked up. He didn't raise his head with them which just added to the demonic effect and belted out "What the fucks the matter with you?"

"Nothing Ray, I am just putting the kids to bed.

"What the fuck...get me some food!"

"I am on my way."

I ran into the kitchen and cleared the table in about 2 seconds flat while Ray2 and Eve ran into the bedroom they shared and shut the door. I started dishing up the stew as fast as possible when Ray came up behind me and slurred "I've gotta talk to you."

"Let me get you some food..."

The hand hit hard and fast on the bowl of stew I had filled and its boiling contents went flying, burning me and spattering the wall, floor, table, toaster, chairs and the precious pile of scrapbooking bits I had stowed under a cart.

That was just the beginning. Before it was over I was down the block in bare feet with no money, no light, no weapon, and nowhere to go. I circled back around the block and crossed a yard that I knew did not contain dogs though you could hear them barking from several yards surrounding me, just knowing I was out there.

I came to our back yard chain link fence and crouched below the tangle of weed vine that crawled up it as I concentrated on the kid's bedroom window. So far Ray wasn't interested and I held on to that thought as I tried to calm myself down and rationalize my running from a maniac to save my own butt but leaving my kids in harm's way.

Truly though – I never ran to save my skin. I ran to get out of Ray's line of sight. Usually I just found a spot near the house and watched till he passed out. Once, when he was tracking me, I ran to a neighbor's. It couldn't have been worse. I had seen the woman going to and from the car and house a few times and thought she looked approachable. Turned out her husband was a cop. That didn't end too well and we had to move again. I think I heard about that two or three hundred times a year for the next ten years. I heard about my foolish behavior, running my mouth and business all over the neighborhood and how our kids had to be moved again, uprooted, separated from friends etc., because of my stupidity and inability to keep my mouth shut.

I knew the real reason we moved. I was looking outside the front window one day when I saw Fester, the man whose house we were staying in, come up on the front lawn. I could hear him asking Ray (we had been there eight months) could he maybe pay just a little rent, just a little something to help take care of the expenses of keeping the place up? Ray's hand went up and he knocked the plate of cookies Fester's wife had sent for the kids right out of Fester's hands and backed him up to his truck jabbing his finger full force into the old man's chest the whole way.

That was why we moved. Over the years there wasn't one landlord ever, we didn't screw out of rent, some belongings, utility bills or something. I got so that I wouldn't meet them or look at them when we'd move somewhere new. I could see the confusion in their face when I avoided them but I knew that they'd be hurt by us someday and it was best if I didn't get "familiar."

One of the screwiest things about Ray's ranting was that he'd go on and on over and over again complaining about something I had ruined or caused that really – he had been completely responsible for. I wondered if Ray really believed his own nonsense. I mean, are there people out there who just say "I am tall" and then it is truth to them or "I am smart" and then that is their reality? Because anyone who can do that is a different species from me.

Sadly, when you live with someone who relentlessly fills your head with repetitive nonsense – sooner or later – no matter how rational you start out – it becomes your reality.

### 5) March 2008, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

By the time spring came, Ray2 and Eve's schedules had evolved to going to friends' houses all weekend and disappearing in their rooms by 8pm on school nights. They were moving out of my sphere of influence and out of my life, both physically and emotionally and I was letting it happen.

I couldn't entertain them with stories and crafts anymore. The ugly truth of our morbid existence was first and foremost on their minds. They hated their father, their home and me for putting up with it. They had been moved so many times they had no lasting friends. Ray had destroyed every connection we had ever made with any human being and the reality of it disgusted them. I didn't fight it. I just took every opportunity they would listen to coach them in any and every conceivable scenario I could imagine. "What would you do? What are you going to do? How are you going to handle this?" Ray2 got more despondent and Eve grew more competent; angry, but capable. Ray's crazy behavior escalated, if that was possible, exacerbated by the steroids he took regularly by doctor hopping. I grew resigned but my instincts kept me pressing my children into readiness for the independence I knew was coming.

Ray2 quit the psychologist. He said he felt worse every time he went; if he was depressed before the sessions, he said the sessions only made him want to kill himself. He was adamant he was done but the psychologist called several times. He told me it was dangerous to leave Ray2 off like this. He said Ray2 had admitted he was suicidal. He claimed Ray2 had to "work his way through this". He wouldn't leave me alone with it and Ray2 wouldn't go back so I asked him if he'd try someone else. He agreed and I tried a woman thinking it might be better as Ray2 had always had a good rapport with me. He went twice and said it was over. He was cured. I had my doubts but he said, when he knew he was "getting out," when he focused on the fact that he would be leading another life separate from the one he was living now, he was no longer depressed. Or rather, he said, he knew there would be an end to the depression. As for you mom, he said, "You're fucked." You could always take what Ray2 said to the bank.

Sisters won't let you crawl in a hole and die. They live their own lives but pop up every now and then offering glimpses of normalcy. Madeline called late in March. She was renting a cabin on the North Shore and wanted me to come and stay with her. I was sick about it for three weeks. I could feel the thrush all over my body. And then, one night when my anxiety couldn't get any worse, I told Ray in the carefully aimed moment after the first two beers had removed the edge but before the third could twist innocent actions to war.

As always, the first thirty minutes after receiving the news, everything was calm. Ray played a poke and dodge game where he asked an unrelated question calculated to put me at ease, then a direct question to disorient, than an innocent one, then a direct one. He went back and forth, back and forth, sometimes interrupting me with the next question before I had the first two words out on the last one. I tried to answer his questions in an effort to have peace but it was futile. Peace would never come. At about 12:30 after three and a half hours of deranged accusations from a festering drunk, I left.

It was warmer in the Ralph's parking lot then, giving the whole area a sort of lighter atmosphere. Somewhere in the distance the sound of friendly voices carried over the still night air. Green grass had replaced the snow piles in the islands. I felt new and refreshed in a way I hadn't felt in years. Running from a tyrant in the night seemed incidental, not monumental. I dared to have hope with the thought of a week of freedom on the horizon.

Ray didn't speak to me for almost two weeks. I enjoyed it immensely but I knew that soon enough, when he figured out it wasn't working to his advantage, it would be over and then I'd pay, but the quiet now, and the thought of a vacation in two months, put a joy in my heart that I forgot I could feel.

### 6) January 1999, Panama City, Florida

One day, Marshall just didn't show up. It was inevitable, but still I couldn't quite believe it. His mother was so dependent upon me. I couldn't quite conceive what she must have gone through to bring her to the decision to take Marshall away. I called her, at first probably five times a day. When she wouldn't pick up, I left quiet, short, desperate messages. "Please call me Karen. We love Marshall. He was doing so well here". And then, once a day for a while. Then months went by and I tried again. I drove by her house. It was deserted. I even tried calling her after we had moved and there was no hope of ever seeing them again but by that time the number was no longer in service.

I could see that one coming a million miles away. When Karen would drop Marshall off or pick him up, Ray was always there. I marveled at how he seemed to know when she would come although her schedule was irregular. Karen would pull up and it would be an hour before she would ever come in and collect Marshall, her face all flushed and breathing hard. You would have thought they had had sex in the front yard, but that was just Ray's way. He was working her and I watched it and let it happen. Maybe I just tell myself this now to relieve myself of the responsibility of all that was Ray, but I believe I thought or hoped, that Karen, being an astute, highly successful businesswoman, would be able to handle Ray in a way I never could. Clearly, I was wrong.

Karen wasn't pretty. She wasn't dumpy because she used every means known to man to smarten up her looks but she still was not someone men would fall over. They would, in all probability, notice her the minute she walked in the door with her designer clothes, her fragrance, her styled hair and all the matching accessories, but after that, sooner or later they would arrive at her face. Ray called her "potato face". Can you beat that? He is hitting on her really hard and walking around our house calling her "potato face" to Ray2 and Eve and I. He had a nickname for everyone. Sometimes you had to laugh since they were always uncannily appropriate, but none of us laughed about "potato face". We all, Ray2, Eve and I, loved Marshall. While I could see Ray hitting on Karen, it was always out of ear shot and out of the sight of the kids. Ray2 and Eve seemed to know though, with that strange sixth sense that kids sometimes seem to possess, that there was something dangerous about Ray even mentioning Karen.

The Friday before the Monday that Marshal quit coming, Karen picked him up from day care and never even came in the house. That was a first. Although she was entertaining a relationship with my husband, she still, in her correct etiquette sort of way, always came in and talked to me a little about her day and how things were going with me. For all her plainness she was one of the nicest, most considerate people I had ever met. I suppose it contributed to how she had done so well in business but it was also why it stood out so plainly as an omen when she didn't come in that Friday evening.

Ray took off about two hours later, dressed to the hilt, already about three sheets to the wind, going around the house, nice as could be, patting his children on the head (both of them jerked away from his touch) and kissing his wife lovingly on the mouth. He had a business meeting that was going to pay off big. He would let me know all about it when he had the deal signed. Oh yeah. I bought into that one right away. But who cared? This translated to nothing other than: Ray would be OUT OF THE HOUSE.

He wasn't back home until almost 5 am and I pretended I was asleep while Ray banged about the narrow space surrounding our bed that was difficult to navigate stone cold sober. He made a terrible racket before he finally lay down. It wasn't until two days later, when Marshal didn't show up for day care that I wondered what had happened. When they didn't answer my calls I started checking the newspaper for any reports but nothing ever showed up. I tried calling Karen's partner but after hanging up on me she blocked our phone number. What a couple of idiots. Did she and Karen truly believe I ran a day care to supply my monstrous husband with women to abuse?

Marshal was not an easy child to take care of and not easy to please. He had been in three other day cares and had had an au pair and a private babysitter but none had worked out. Karen was one of those perennially anxious parents who work too much and can't reconcile the guilt of spending so little time with their child. She had told me over a dozen times what a godsend my care for Marshal was and how she was finally able to enjoy life. That was why I couldn't believe she just didn't show up that day. It upset me so that, this once, I had to face it. I couldn't just ignore Ray's shit. I had to wonder, just how deep did Ray's psychosis go? What could he have done to drive a woman to leave her home, business and town and just disappear? Ten years later I still couldn't drop it. I looked them up on Yahoo people search and Facebook. They were not quiet people but there was no sign of either of them.

### 7) Always

A small child or a captive animal when in fear will close its eyes believing that which it does not see, does not exist. Adults will sometimes do the same. This is how a woman whose husband cheats, does not see it while everyone else does. Everyone at work knows, casual acquaintances know, their kids know, and we pretend the wife is the last to know. Ha! She knows, long before she accepts that she knows; she knows. She's closed her eyes.

Ray was a cheater. To that, I did not close my eyes. I knew it and I didn't care. I not only didn't care, I wanted it. It was one small way I could get relief from Ray. When he was cheating he had someone else to fuck with; mentally and physically. The only problem was, they could walk away, run away or crawl away and they always did. Who wouldn't? Ray was an abuser. It never started off that way but depending on how he played the game that round, it started sooner or later.

It was the abuse I closed my eyes to. By the time it started, I was so deeply wrapped up in Ray's shit that I couldn't see the forest for the trees. I enabled it and fed it. When the theatrics started I did all I could to bring peace. I calmed his fears, alleviated his pain, and denied his problems. I was a regular Mother Teresa. Ray provided the chaos and I responded with harmony and stability. And the cycle grew and grew as the years progressed. It got so crazy, Ray himself would cry over the mess he would forever bring upon us.

### 8) May 2008, South Shore Lake Tahoe, California Side

One weekend in May, Ray got the idea we needed to have a weekend out "away from the kids". Hah! Ray was never "with" the kids so I guess he meant I needed to get away from them. More to the point he knew we'd be off for a week the following month so he was playing the devoted husband; trying to shore up our relationship before I got off for a week and decided never to come back.

I arranged for Ray2 and Eve to stay with a family that had two kids about their age that went to their school. I had seen their mother at church a few times and knew she was considered to be very cool with the kids so I thought Ray 2 and Eve would be happy there for a weekend.

I was a little surprised when Ray2 balked at the idea. He didn't want to go and he didn't understand why I was going. I couldn't see why he was upset. He was hardly ever home and we hardly ever spoke anymore. When I tried to engage him in conversation he seemed angry and testy. I thought he'd enjoy a weekend of change but he became even more sullen when Friday came around. I gathered from what little bit we did speak that he was tired of his friends and their lifestyles. Ray2 had always been so straight and so sensible that I assumed he would find his way and I sensed it was happening now. About a year prior he had grown his hair out, started dressing slouchy and adopted an attitude. With the changes had come a whole new circle of friends, a kind of clan or cult of wealthy, disgruntled kids. While he might have initially been flattered by the inclusion in the fraternity, he was now seeing them for what they were. I was satisfied, thinking this is not a lesson you can teach your children. This is something they have to learn for themselves. Still, I left with the thought that I wasn't doing something right if a 15 year old boy doesn't want his mom to leave for the weekend.

We checked into the CalNeva Lodge, a small old casino that sits on the California/Nevada border and caters to a devoted local clientele. It was a fairly decent weekend; Ray was on his best behavior. He reminded me of his old self, strutting his stuff on the casino floor, ordering lavish room service and pandering to me as though I was the Queen of Sheba. "It's always been you Pen. You know that. I loved you the minute I laid eyes on you and I've loved you more every day since. I know you don't love me like you use to but I don't know what I'd do without you." I was glad the weekend was short because it was difficult to listen to that and then hear the silence that followed it. Ray never gave up. I'll give him that.

There was an unusually late freezing rain as we drove south on the east side of the lake, toward home. Ray had called Monica, the lady Ray2 and Eve were staying with and asked her to keep them one more night. I didn't like it but they had a school holiday the next day so I didn't have much to argue with. It was just the way Ray did things. He never asked "Do you want to have another night out?" He never considered Ray2 or Eve. Ray just made arrangements as though we were baggage that he routed on a journey. I really felt as though I had been civil as long as I could muster and I wanted to see Ray2 and Eve.

I called Monica on the way back to the house. Ray had told her we were staying at the lodge another night and I didn't tell her differently. She said Ray2 was out with some friends, told me who they were and that she had told him to be back by 12:00. He had never missed a curfew but I still always worried until he got home. Eve was staying in with Monica's daughter. They weren't friends as the girl was, according to Eve, "a hesher" but they had apparently found common ground in adoration of Paul Walker and were looking forward to an "Out of The Blue" marathon. Personally, I thought if she wanted to shore up her image as a "hesher" she should be fixating on Johnny Depp but what did I know?

That night Ray got tanked. He was feeling festive; a bit of a carry-over from the weekend. He had spent two nights maintaining some small semblance of sobriety as is required in all Nevada gaming establishments as well as an attempt to be "a good husband". It had probably been hard as by this time his addiction was so over the top that six or eight casino cocktails over the course of an evening had to have felt like abstinence. The relief was palatable as he drank himself into a happy stupor.

My phone rang at about 1:15. We were sound asleep. It was Monica. Ray2 had not come in. I bolted up so quickly that I roused Ray unintentionally and he slurred sleepily and turned over. The last thing I needed right now was a wasted Ray waking up and throwing chaos and confusion in my way. I hung up on Monica mid-sentence and slid off the bed and tip toed from the room. Ray didn't budge and I quickly voiced gratitude for the benefits of the additional drugs he must have taken.

I went into the kitchen to call Monica and asked had she tried calling either of the boys Ray2 had been out with and she said she hadn't as she didn't have numbers. I told her Eve damn well did and asked if she had told her she didn't. Monica didn't say anything for a beat so I knew my answer.

I hung up and called Ray2's friends. Neither one of them answered. I tried Ray2 again pushing redial constantly. After a few minutes I called Eve.

"What? I am watching a movie!"

"Eve, where is Ray2?"

"At some kid named Alex's house."

"Where is it?"

"Over somewhere out off of Pioneer Trail."

"What's his last name?"

"Sandoval, I think. He lives with his grandparents."

"What makes you think Ray2 is there?"

"Some kids saw him. I've got to go, mom this is embarrassing. The movie is on pause."

I hung up and spent the next hour trying to call Ray2 and the two boys he had been out with. I finally found someone who had Alex Sandoval's Grandparents phone number and I called it. A lady named Lisa answered who sounded younger than me. She said she had just walked in the door with her husband and she would go wake Alex up right away and call me back. I was relieved that she showed no hesitation.

True to her word she called me right back and said she had spoken to Alex who said Ray2 had been there but had left at about 12:00 and he hadn't seen him since. That really scared me. I asked who he left with but Alex didn't know. It was now almost 2:30 and Ray2 had been missing for two and a half hours. I believed he had meant to keep his curfew and had been stopped unwillingly. I spent the next half hour in extreme panic calling everyone even remotely associated with Ray2. When I'd come to a dead end I called Eve again. The third time I called her she hissed on the phone, "I told you! HE'S THERE!

"Eve, why do you keep saying that? I need you to come up with something else because he's not there. I told you, I spoke to the Grandmother. She would know if Ray2 was in her house."

"STOP CALLING ME MOM. I told you where he was, now leave me alone!"

I was at my wits end and ready to call the police when my phone rang. It showed an unfamiliar number and I pressed the answer button. It was Alex's grandmother again. She said, "I've got him."

I said, "Oh, thank God. Thank you so much. You have no idea how worried I have been. This isn't like him at all. I am on my way right now. Where was he?"

"Wait, don't come here. I've called an ambulance. You'll have to meet us at the hospital."

"What's wrong? What's wrong with him?!"

"He's shaking and he's soaking wet. I can't seem to rouse him and he's chilled to the bone. I tried getting Alex to tell me what he took but Alex is denying he knows. His grandfather is with him now and if he knows we will get it out of him."

I could hear yelling and banging and all kinds of commotion in the background. I asked where the hospital was and if she was sure I shouldn't come to her house first and she said, "No, go straight there. If the ambulance isn't here in 5 minutes, we'll take him ourselves."

I thanked the Lord and spirits for giving me this woman to help us through this and prayed for Ray2. I begged God to recall he was a good child and to please not forsake us now. I prayed out loud the whole way to the hospital while I stayed on the phone with Lisa.

I reached Barton Memorial Hospital about ten minutes before the ambulance pulled up. It was the worst night of my whole life. Even recalling it now brings such sorrow, that I take deep breaths and rush as I write to be over with the telling of it. Lisa had found Ray2 in a ditch in her yard, covered by a tarp. He was lying in a puddle of ice water, face down. Had his head not been slightly curved up a side of the ditch, he would be dead. Had she not heard me so clearly and listened so intently, he would be dead. She said that when she hung up from me she couldn't forget how sure I was that Ray2 had never been late and that kids were saying he was still there, that he had never left. She said she woke her ancient old hound and begged him to look with her. She said he looked up at her and seemed to know what she needed and within five minutes had located Ray2. I cried and thanked the spirits for dogs that help people. I cried and thanked the lord for all mothers that "just know" and most of all I cried and thanked mother earth for not taking my son.

He had taken ecstasy, the new designer drug I knew little about other than how rampant it seemed to be mentioned in the news lately. What made Ray2's case so serious was that the drug itself often induces hypothermia. When coupled with the time he spent in the ice water, in the ditch, he was in grave condition by the time he reached the hospital. When I had time for my head to clear and some of my grief had passed, I thought about all those kids out there who knew where Ray2 was and never told anyone. The thought that they would just let someone die, just do nothing about it was incomprehensible. Not one person, not two people, but at least eight knew where he was. When I was finished being angry with them, I thought about Ray. I thought about how he had made arrangements for Ray2 and Eve to stay out another night without regard for any of us and I am still thinking about it today.

### 9) 1988 St. Louis, Missouri

Back when we were young and I was still under the spell of all that was Ray, we were wild. We'd stay drunk or stoned most nights. We had few expenses and the money rolled in. Ray managed a used car business for an out of state owner which gave him full reign, reaping profits from the legit business as well as all the side deals he was always working.

Looking back I can see clearly now how all things seemed so right with Ray then. First, he was in the driver's seat, all the way. He had full access to another man's inventory, property, books, staff, contacts and reputation without seeming to have any of the weights with which a business of that size usually burdens the owner.

Ray was the smoothest salesman on the planet. He could read people and take them, every time. He enjoyed closing a sale in a much more profound way than just acquiring income might suggest. It was the art of manipulation, the control, and then the ultimate climax of taking something from someone. In that way he was truly in his element and at the top of his game. I marvel at that now, how he could have gone on ripping that car lot owner off for decades and we would have been loaded and living well, if he could just have left it at that. The problem with that thought is that I assume people want to be happy. I assume it is human nature. But Ray defied all normal laws of nature. He created chaos, mangled and destroyed everything in his path.

At first I was aware Ray picked up a few cars on the side, to sell off the lot that the owner didn't know about. Those cars were sold first and sales staff were paid big cash, fast, to insure loyalty to Ray, rather than the owner. The two or three cars usually sat inconspicuously to the side so it seemed someone unrelated to the lot might have dropped them there; a car pooler perhaps, a customer gone off down the road or anyone.

I would have thought anyone in their right mind would have been thrilled to be their own boss, collect 70k in salary and bonuses and clear another 2 or 3 thousand a month in unreported income. Doctors and lawyers all over the country who put in eight hard years of college were working for less than that. Plus, Ray was really, really, enjoying himself. He had all the employees to toy with and all of the customers to fleece, all the while royally shafting the owner.

Even the office staff was tailor made to suit Ray. The lady in charge of accounts with her quadruple D boobs and micro-minis was a slut Ray wouldn't touch. Or maybe he had had her and was done quickly, I don't know, but I do know, they were all business. Ray compensated her well for her silence. She kept the ugly minion under her in the dark and well subdued. I doubt Ray was screwing that dirty thing but I don't know anymore.

Then in what I would later recognize as Ray's consistent method of operation, the disruption began. He slowly increased his car inventory and started displaying them more openly, even show casing one or two now and then. This all still made total thieving sense but when he hired a separate salesman to sell his cars and put the lot salespeople on selling the owner's cars, the attitudes and loyalty went south.

Ray was smart; even brilliant, so I know he could see it but I still don't understand why he did it. The closest I can come up with is everyone was happy and since Ray liked "taking" people, maybe he just wanted to take that. It sounds stupid but plausible given Ray's warped sense of enjoyment. What wasn't plausible was taking himself down with it. Even an idiot would know that surrounding themself with employees who had something on them AND bore a grudge against them was dangerous.

Even Gloria, who normally appeared as hardened as a sex slave trafficker, looked slightly fearful as she tottered across the parking lot in her six inch heels, clicking the lock button four or five times on her asininely bright chartreuse corvette. She couldn't cross the showroom floor fast enough, nor close the door on her glass enclosed office, quickly enough. The tension in the air was intense. The sales crew was angry and for good reason.

Ray though, he strutted his stuff all around the lot. Proudly, as though defying anyone to challenge his ability to smear them in shit anytime he so chose. Things stayed that way for a while until slowly like picking off dodo birds in a shooting gallery, each salesperson was fired and replace by Ray lap dogs who understood, certain cars on the lot were not included in the inventory they sold and Ray and his "private" salesperson had first shot at every customer who walked on the lot.

Inevitably, as Ray's side business increased, the owner's sales decreased. It wasn't my business and I sure did not want Ray telling me how to operate so I mostly kept out of it. Once or twice I did mention as casually as I could, "Ray don't you think you had better concentrate on bringing up his sales a bit before you cause him to want to come out here and investigate?" I knew it wouldn't take Ray but maybe a half hour a day out of his life to get those sales back up to normal levels but he couldn't even give him that. He couldn't even give thirty minutes a day to the man who owned the property, paid for the cars, paid Ray's and everyone else's salaries, the electric bill, the insurance, the taxes, the licensing and permits.

Ray said, seething, with the air blowing out of his nose like a mad bull. "Do you know what I made last year? You signed the tax return. That son of a bitch only paid us 38K! How do you expect me to live off that? That isn't shit. How do you expect me to continue putting gas in your god damn car so you can fuck around going to school all day?"

"First of all Ray, you don't pay for my gas. Second of all, I don't fuck around all day. I barely go to school which you don't pay for either and I work all day. But this isn't about me or what I am doing; I was talking about screwing yourself out of a good thing Ray."

He interrupted before I was finished, fuming about how, we could talk about HIS business but never talk about MY business and how I could keep MY money separate and he never asked me for anything but now I wanted to tell him how to run his business, and how to spend his time and what to do with his money.

I don't know if I am stupid or what. I always tested really well in school but apparently that brilliance didn't carry over into the real world because I would keep explaining and Ray would keep fluid – throwing all manner of nonsense into the argument sprinkled with a few appropriate nouns and adjectives. It was the pronouns I really should have been watching, there just wasn't ever any time. When I go back and recall, or write it down, it is easy to see, you notice it right away. Ray would shift from "I to you" and "yours to mine", alternately laying claim to money, blame to problems, absolving himself and incriminating me. What was really incredible was that it flowed so freely. It would take me hours just to orchestrate the kind of argument Ray constructed so freely.

By the third year the owner of the lot was sick. He had cancer and was dying. His heirs were fighting over his property and one, as Ray saw him, "that blood sucking, mother fucking, son of a bitch", was asking questions and wanted answers. He had been to the lot unannounced and there were Ray's cars, by this time brazenly lining the front row of the lot facing the street. And true to form these were now not grey, white or tan, Kias, Fords, and Dodges. They were fully loaded Lexuses, Jaguars, two Audis, a Maserati, a Cadillac, and a Mercedes- Benz. Ray was playing with fire. These did not look like auction cars. The volume he was turning over was going to attract unwanted attention. There was no getting around it.

The worst of it was, when the guy came on the lot, Ray's top salesman hit on him hard trying to sell him one of the "special" cars. The guy just let the salesman hang himself. After about 45 minutes, when the salesman was sure he had shown the guy every single one of Ray's cars and he was sure for a fact every one of Ray's cars was over his budget, he called an exit salesman out and he was given the opportunity to sell one of the lot cars. The guy grilled the second salesman who thankfully was fairly new and actually said the first, non-incriminating statement which was "I don't know anything about those cars, who owns them or where they came from I just know they turn 'em over pretty quickly."

Remarkably, Ray took that innocent statement and ran with it. He claimed the fancy cars in front were just to lure people onto the lot because who was ever gonna stop to look at the cheap shit Carson kept in inventory? Technically, Carson hadn't bought a car in almost four years, so the cheap shit inventory was Ray's doing. As for the stupid salesperson who had tried to sell the gent one of the "just for show cars" – he was gone the next day, couldn't be found, no way to trace him, not listed in employee records, Gloria had no idea who he was, the ghost just vanished like all the fancy car inventory.

"I just sent them back – told the owners you didn't want them parked here." Ray said. "Now the lot is dead. No one has stepped on it in 48 hours but if that is the way you want it, you run the fucking place. Your dad never treated me like that. He appreciated me, knew how to treat people. Now how are the bills gonna get paid? You ever thought of that buddy? Are you gonna come out here and run this fucking lot yourself you selfish runt. Do you know how many jobs you are jeopardizing, how many people's lives you are screwing with? Gloria's been here 20 years and she's scared to death. You've been breathing down her neck, scrutinizing everything she's ever done for this company. Get outa here you piece of shit, leave us alone, we've got work to do!"

In a perfect world Ray would have put just two cents of effort into Carson's Cars and he would've been making 200k a year. He made 70K the first year and he didn't even start until April. Ray never worked past five unless he was closing a deal. He never worked a Saturday or Sunday is his life. He never opened the lot before 10 and he was never the first one there. We could've passed out business cards, gone to church on Sunday, gotten to know our neighbors and maybe even sold them a car or two but that wasn't the life for Ray. Later, he would scream at me "Is that what you wanted for me? A fucking used car salesman? That shows how one sided this relationship is, after all I've done for you, you wanna know 'Ray, why can't you be a used car salesman? Ray be a used car salesman, Ray be my bitch and be a used car salesman!'"

I am not hard to please. In the second most perfect world Ray could have continued abusing every employee on the lot, continued running his own car business quietly – picking up three or four cars at auction a month and selling them first, continuing to supplement his income. That would have netted him at least 100k with someone else shouldering all the burden and Ray in full control. But he didn't see that as enough. I wonder if he thought it was enough when we were sick and freezing in the dilapidated, abandoned house in Utah without electricity or furniture, making beds out of clothing and melting snow for water. Was it enough then, Ray, I wondered?

### 10) May 2008, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

Two weeks after we came back from the Cal/Neva and Ray2 had been admitted to the emergency room, I came home from work to find Ray standing in Ray2's room growling at him. Some unintelligible words and then "...you're a fucking looser, a god damn fucking little drug addict. Turn that fucking T.V. off..."

I walked in the room behind Ray, crowding him in the doorway with my shoulder bag and the groceries still in my hands. "Wait a minute, what's going on? Ray what's the matter?"

"He needs to turn that God damn shit off and get his homework done. He's been fucking around all afternoon then he comes in here to do his homework and turns the fucking T.V. on."

"You better get your shit together you little son of a bitch. If you think I am working my ass off to put you up in some fancy dorm room at Harvard so you can toke and drink and drug yourself into oblivion while I foot the bill, you've got another thing coming."

I stepped back two feet to set my stuff down in the hall as Ray was clearly worked up and I didn't want to leave him in there with Ray2...bang, thud. I stepped back in and Ray2 was on the floor, his computer, his books, and his school papers, as well and the chair he had been sitting in was turned over.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Ray settle down what's...?" Ray2 knocked past Ray and passed me and ran down the hall and out of the house. I heard Eve call to him just before the front door slammed shut.

"Ray what happened?" I was confused. Ray and no one else for that matter ever spoke to Ray2 like that. He just never did anything that warranted it. Then Eve was at my side.

"He just started hassling us for no reason. He called me fat and told me to stop shoving food in my face and he broke Ray2's door. He's been an asshole all night."

I took it all in in a matter of minutes, the mess on the floor, the broken molding on the door frame and Ray's blood shot eyes with extremely dilated pupils. As soon as I saw those eyes I became hypersensitive to all of the related signs of drug abuse, specifically steroids.

"Ray, I can tell you've been hitting those steroids again. I told you to stop it. The last time I said NO MORE, Ray. You go insane on those things. It's not fair to us. You aren't a happy drunk, Ray. You're mean, really mean. The steroids just amplify it and we can't even handle your drunkenness without the steroids."

I had to stop for my own safety. Ray looked like someone had been playing with his face in Photoshop. It was purple red and puffy. Coupled with the dilated bloodshot eyes he looked possessed. I knew, no matter how obsessed Ray was with me, he was functioning like an animal lower on the food chain then a snake.

I picked up my keys and ran outside shouting Ray2's name into the dark still night. There was no answer. I called his phone and it went to voicemail. I texted him telling him I was out in the car looking for him and that his dad was still back at the house. No response. I pulled out of the driveway and started calling his friend's numbers that were programmed into my phone. One hadn't heard from him and another didn't answer. I called Ray2 again and Ray answered his phone. Shit. Ray2 had run out without his phone.

I could hear Ray ranting about how I needed to quit babying Ray2 and how he needed to grow up. The ranting went on and on because without medication Ray could rant unchecked for hours. When he was on steroids there was no stopping him. He never took a breath. He went straight into what a low life Ray2 was, how he was a looser, a son of a bitch, a baby who had been coddled by me his whole life and never once had to stand on his own. Throughout the rant Ray's voice would take on all kinds of octaves while imitating me, imitating Ray2 and calling us names.

"Ray you can stop it right now. I am not going to listen to this. I have been working all day and you can't even keep it together for a few hours. This has got to stop. The kids are living in hell. They have no peace in their own...'click'". Ray hung up. I thanked the spirits for small favors and stopped to take stock. I wondered where Ray2 could be. I called Eve to see if she knew anything and was surprised to hear Ray2's voice when he answered.

Oh thank God, buddy, are you home? I asked. "No", he said, "Eve gave me her phone." I remembered hearing her call to him before the front door slammed and guessed she must have thrown him her phone. That phone was dearer to Eve than her own body. Tossing it to Ray2 without hesitation spoke of her devotion to her brother. It brought tears to my eyes. "Ray2 I'm so sorry..." I said.

"It's not your fault."

"What in the hell happened? I mean not that he needs a reason but why was he so worked up? I have never seen him go off on you like that. I mean he goes off on me and goes off on Eve but he just hasn't ever worked you over like that and I can't figure out what triggered him"

"He's been pissed off ever since I overdosed. He's been knocking me around and swearing at me under his breath and making all kinds of threats and calling me names."

"Why didn't you tell me? I can't believe it. I had no idea," I said.

"Oh, believe me. He has been saying all kinds of shit to me under his breath every moment he gets a chance."

"What an asshole. I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"It is though. I just assumed I could work for a few hours without having to worry about him. That was stupid. He's like a wild animal that's not caged and if I don't watch him 24/7 he'll bite somebody. I couldn't believe his eyes tonight. I didn't see that coming either. I wonder how long he has been taking that shit. He has to have been taking it for a few days because that was no single night dose he's on. He is fully amped up."

I always did this. The whole world circled around Ray. I would just get caught in the cycle and it would take conscious effort to step out of it and get on with our own lives. I should have arranged for Ray2 and Eve to spend the few hours before I got home from work, someplace else. I don't know if it was stubbornness, or idealism or what that kept me thinking they would ever be able to peacefully sit at their home and conduct life. It just wasn't ever going to happen. It was futile for me to fight it but anger, and frustration boiled inside me regardless.

I couldn't decipher when it had gotten so bad. Ray had always been erratic but I now couldn't even go to work without worry of reprisals. I couldn't live a life where I had to fear for my children's safety. Previously, Ray's violence and volatility seemed to be directed at the rest of the world and in an obscure sort of way I could look at it as a form of protection. Once, when we had been threatened by some unexpected gang types who came to our door looking for someone we didn't know, and I called Ray to the door, the four of them backed down the steps and ran away fast after Ray got finished with them. Later that night I can remember Ray2 sitting on his bed in his striped "old man" pajamas with his feet not reaching the floor, saying, "Its good Dad is on our side." It wasn't exactly a complement, since it was just Ray2's way to state the facts, but it was an acknowledgement which was more than Ray deserved.

The thought lately was forming in my mind that Ray was seeing Eve and Ray2 as "outsiders". They were getting some size on them. Eve had matured unfortunately early and Ray2 who had always been bigger than kids his age was close to six feet. It seemed as though to Ray they had been non entities as children. Now that they were the size of adults I had the impression that Ray wanted them gone. I don't even know if Ray knew it but I felt it. I had the thought that maybe he was just so addicted to his drinks and drugs that he wanted Ray2 and Eve gone so he could imbibe without restraint. It would be just like Ray to get the idea he wanted children and then when he was tired of them think "I'm done".

By the time my thoughts had cycled through the past and come to the present I was sitting in the Ralph's parking lot. I tried to get Ray2 to tell me where he was but he wouldn't. I knew his school work was important to him as he saw it as his ticket out so I called him and tried to tell him I would bring him his computer and books but he wasn't budging. He said to send them to school with Eve along with his phone and that he had to go. He hung up and I cried and cried. I didn't want to go home without Ray2.

### 11) June 9, 2008, North Shore Lake Tahoe, California Side

The sky was never bluer and the lake had never sparkled so brightly. Ray2 was fully extended in the passenger seat next to me. The windows were down and the dry, warm mountain air flowed through the Subaru as Van Morrison played "Wild Nights are Calling" on my radio. Eve playfully tickled Ray2's forehead as his seat was laid so far back his head was almost level with hers in the back seat. I hadn't felt like this since before Ray. The car was mine, the kids were mine, and the day was mine. If I died this moment I would die happy.

We were on our way to stay with Madeline on the North Shore for a whole week. No schedule, no tension, no anger, no problems. I had pulled into Ralph's five minutes after we left the house to load the cart with whatever the kids wanted to eat – whenever. There was fresh sliced roast beef and cheese for Ray2 and sushi for Eve. I had a bucket of fried chicken, fresh grapes, cartons of soda, cereal, power shakes, and power bars, apples, bananas, potato logs, fat pickles, buttered corn and two cans of anchovies.

Madeline had sent me two hundred dollars and I had a little over 400 saved from Ray's grip through four years of pinching and scraping on the side. I had never before had that kind of stash and never before been so close to freedom. I didn't know how or when but I was determined I would have this life and have this feeling again.

The traffic around the lake crawled with the summer weekend visitors. There was so much we hadn't seen in so long – without the shadow of fear - that we could have spent days just traveling without care but within a few hours we were sluggishly pulling up a steep hill that lead away from the lake into a popular second home enclave on the North Shore. On a corner on the left I could see a place with a large deck that sprawled around two sides of a home with two newer SUV's parked in the spacious driveway.

Ray2 was sitting up and Eve was leaning forward into the front seat, quiet for once, just taking in the view. We all caught each other's eyes in acknowledgement of the moment. Ray2 hadn't really been "with us" in comradeship in close to a year and it was good to have him back. It wasn't until later that they told me it was me who had broken the bond, not Ray2.

I busied myself with gathering my belongings. Madeline was standing on the porch directing us to "watch Keo, watch, Keo." She had a Siberian husky, bred to run, and had to remind us before it stole out while we ferried our load into the house. We were laden with bags, towels and food as we bound our way through to the kitchen and Madeline pointed out sleeping arrangements.

Three hours later, at dusk, Ray2, Eve, Dawn's son and a girl I didn't recognize were half running back up the street with towels flying like capes about their shoulders. They were wet and crying "Were hungry."

"The chicken and potato logs are on the counter with the paper plates and all the rest of the food. Help yourselves."

Ray2 and Eve looked at me like I was a stranger while Dawn's son and the yet unidentified girl grabbed plates and loaded up. They had never – not seen me – standing at the stove, presenting them with a four course meal.

"Go, go, and get yourself some before it's gone."

Ray2 was smiling as he loaded his plate. There would be no fear, no anger, and no arguments tonight. Dawn's son, Todd, stood at his shoulder trying to coax him into eating in front of the Xbox but clearly he hadn't reached the "nothing gets in the way of my food" stage that Ray2 had recently entered. Xbox could wait.

As for Eve, she was in heaven with her new found friend. It was amazing to see the four of them, oblivious to anyone's notion of personal space. It was new to Ray2 and Eve and I marveled at how easily they accepted companionship as though they had ever been allowed to enjoy it before. It warmed my heart to know that this could not be taken from them: their need for, and acceptance of, human companionship.

The cabin wasn't very large. There was only one couch facing the TV and a few side chairs. It was made livable by the kitchen and porch opening on opposite sides of the living area so that it seemed much more spacious than it actually was. It was cozy to have the six of us so close together, sleeping, eating, playing, drinking, and barbequing, in this toasty, cuddly home together. It felt like a cocoon, like a home should feel.

### 12) November 2001, Emery County, Utah

Sometime around November of 2002, I can't remember the exact date because I was really sick, we were loaded up in a U-Haul truck on our way down some God forsaken rural road in central Utah, supposedly trying to find the house Ray had rented. The sun had disappeared a few hours back and there was dead silence in the car. It was noteworthy because neither Eve nor Ray was ever quiet for a more than a moment or two at a time and neither of them had made a sound for over an hour.

I had tried asking Ray for the address to map out a route to the place but he responded angrily with a ferocity that bellied a challenge. That was another of Ray's methods. Respond loudly and angrily and then they'll be too afraid to pursue it or ask anymore. Well, I wasn't afraid but I was too sick to argue and down deep I thought maybe Ray doesn't know the answer to the question. It was just that I had known Ray to use that – "yell loudly and they'll stop asking" trick when he didn't want someone to find out that he didn't know the answer. It was impossible for Ray not to know where we were going but he was clearly troubled about something. Maybe it was just farther than he had calculated but I couldn't press him about it. It would lead to an argument and I couldn't even focus my fever was so bad. I think I was bordering on delirium.

Eve was sick too. It was scary. At first as she had wiggled and thrashed and whined but she'd been quiet more recently; all day I think. I held her on my lap, falling in and out of consciousness, thinking I could die right now here with her and take her with me to heaven. The only thing that kept me here on earth that week was Ray2.

After another hour with the U-Haul bumping and banging us around on the rutted road we slowed and drove straight into the front yard of a two story farmhouse. The lights on the truck shown ominously in the otherwise pitch black night. There was no identifiable driveway; in fact the house seemed to sit in the road. I couldn't quite orient myself and wondered had we just driven for an hour on a road that ended at the front door of a house? I'll never know because I never did see the place in the light of day, and I've no desire to ever go back.

There was a light drizzle and the ground was pure ice as we exited the truck and climbed the stairs to the front door. Ray went around back and after some banging the front door opened in front of us. The lights didn't work so Eve and I just sat in a corner huddled together. Ray2 brought me the heavy denim quilt I had made and covered us with it entirely. We fell asleep.

When I next awoke, sun was shining in the window and there was a small fire in the fireplace and a large pile of dried twigs, bark and miscellaneous debris on the floor beside it. I called out for Ray a few times but I was so weak I stopped when there was no response and used the last bit of energy to check Eve. She was breathing but so thin and pale she seemed to be in a state of hibernation. Her skin looked translucent and I wondered how that could be as I rolled back and shut my eyes.

In a few moments on the other side of the wall we were huddled against I heard a door bang and feet hammering the floor. Moments later Ray2 was leaning over me whispering loudly "Mom are you ok?" as I tried to focus on his face. He looked worried and it felt as though a hand reached in my chest and squeezed my heart as I comprehended Ray2's desperation.

"Where's your Dad, Buddy?"

"Gone to take the U-Haul back and get our car."

"How long has he been gone?"

"Since before sunrise, yesterday."

"What? Ray2, that's impossible. What are you talking about? It's not even ten hours there and back. Are you saying he's been gone for two days?" Salt Lake City was the closest place we could drop off the U-Haul and we had left our car there to drive home when we returned the U-Haul.

"No, I'm sure mom. He's been gone since Friday morning and you've been asleep the whole time except when you threw up and Mom, I'm really hungry."

"Is there any food here?"

"No, Dad left and the house is completely empty, I mean completely. I burned a few pieces of a chair I found and I even had to pull up some boards from the floor in the attic because there is nothing to burn. This place is like the moon and I am so hungry."

"Find my purse, Buddy."

He dug it out from behind me where I guessed he had thought to protect it from Ray. Unfortunately, I only had about $14.00 left of my secret stash but I did have some snacks stored that I had bought for the long ride but never been lucid enough to produce.

"Go inside it at the bottom. There is a zipper kind of buried in a corner. It's like a hidden compartment. Empty it". I closed my eyes as Ray2 dug in and pulled his hand out several times lining the items up on the floor in perfect formation.

"Ray2 just eat one right now and we'll decide on the rest together."

He ripped the wrapper off of a power bar without ceremony which made me realize how hungry he must have been.

"There isn't anything to drink is there mom?"

"The faucets don't work?"

"No, and neither do the toilets."

"That is ridiculous. I guess we will have to figure out how to melt ice or something. Can you figure out a way to do that?"

"I'll work on it."

"Ray2 I don't feel well. I'm awake but I am just going to shut my eyes here. You can still talk to me."

"Mom, please don't die. I'm really scared."

"Ray, get yourself something to drink before you eat anything else. Make it last. That's all we have for now. And can you please try to get a little water poured down Eve's throat? She needs it badly."

"I have been, from her water bottle, but she won't drink anymore 'cause it makes her throw up."

"Ray2, she HAS to drink. I'll be o.k. but she could die from dehydration. Please make her take just a teaspoon as often as you can." Ray2 kept waking me up and I kept pretending I was already awake. "Don't worry. You aren't bothering me. I am just resting."

He had refilled Eve's water bottle and had several plastic cups filled with water, lined up like soldiers. He was worried about the food and I told him to just space it out that Eve and I couldn't eat anyway. One of the times he woke me the fire was really roaring and I smiled. He told me he was going through the attic floor boards really quickly. I told him to burn the whole house if he had to but try to use what wouldn't allow cold air in first. He said he'd use the porch boards next.

The next time I woke fully, it was dark and Ray2 was curled at my feet, under the quilt with us. I asked him if he had tried calling his father and he told me he couldn't. "Dad took your phone."

"No way Ray2, he wouldn't do that. You must be mistaken"

"He said his phone was cut off and he needed it."

I kept protesting and Ray2 kept confirming that what he said was what had happened. I couldn't process, couldn't function and was totally overwhelmed. That phone was MINE. Madeline had gotten so tired of my inability to keep a phone that she had gotten me one so I had it for emergency purposes and now Ray had it. I was beyond livid. My anger over the stupid phone fed my starving, fever weakened body with enough energy to think if not sit up.

"Ray2 we've got to get out of here. We'll starve to death here and if that doesn't kill us whatever is wrong with Eve may kill her. We have no idea what happened to your Dad or where he is or when he is coming back. We've got to think of a plan."

Ray2 had been thinking. He reminded me how we had driven for almost an hour since we left any kind of main road and even on that road he said we had only ever seen two or three cars. He had figured that an hour in the U-Haul meant 30 miles maybe to the main road and he didn't know if he could walk that far and what if it got dark and no car came once he got there. He wanted to know if I thought Eve could really die and I said "I don't know but it's got me worried." That was the best I could do for him. I wouldn't lie and truly I wasn't just worried. I was pretty sure it was really bad. I didn't know how long a child could sustain a fever like she had without permanent damage.

"It would help if you could get her fever down. Do you think you can do that?

"Just tell me what to do."

When Ray2 got finished working on cooling Eve down, he started on me. He went back and forth for God only knows how long before he woke me and said, "I'm going to have to go Mom. I'm really hungry and the food is gone. I mashed up the last oatmeal bar in water to try and feed to Eve but she took a tiny taste off my finger and threw it up. Can I eat the rest of it?"

"Of course eat it." I held his face in my hands and continued. "Two things Ray2, then I'm going to rest. Really put your mind at work on figuring out if there is anything to eat outside, like anything wild you could kill and cook or roots or anything. And Ray2, when you are making plans to go, remember this: put on 2 pair of socks, wear gloves, wrap your face in a scarf, wear a hat, put plastic bags on your feet before you put them inside your shoes and be sure to leave in the morning before the sun comes all the way up." With that said, I closed my eyes in exhaustion.

The next thing I remember was stirring to the sight of Ray2 bundled up and standing over me. He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my hands. He said, "Don't die mom. I don't want to live without you."

"Whatever you do Ray2, don't fall asleep. Don't even rest. You will die, and I don't want to live without you either."

The next time I woke it was dark and the fire was almost out. I crawled over and put a few of the pieces Ray2 had piled for us on the fire and coaxed it back to life. Then I slowly drank a bit from one of the cups of water he had lined up and quickly threw it up. I crawled over and found a shirt and covered the throw up and then checked Eve and crawled back to sleep under the quilt. I woke once again. It was dark and the fire was out but I was too tired to care.

Sometime later I sensed lights coming in the window but my eyes burned too much to open them to see. Then there was a silhouette of a large man with lots of big clothes standing over me. I asked him where Ray2 was and he said asleep at his house with his wife. Then he picked me up like a baby and carried me to the bed of a truck with a camper shell on it. I was crying as I felt Eve being tucked in beside me. We bumped and banged around in the truck for a while and the next thing I remember I was in a hospital bed lifting my hand with the IV needle in it.

I called, "Help me please! Is my daughter alright?"

We both had pneumonia and they couldn't tell me for a long time if Eve would be alright. They just kept saying how close it was. Ray2 said he had been really scared because he could tell one of the nurses who kept coming to talk to him had been crying.

Once we had established Eve would not die, I found out I was in trouble. Apparently the State of Utah and its residents did not appreciate mothers who kept their children in abandoned houses without food or water and neglected to get them medical help when they were ill.

Thankfully Ray2 was well rehearsed in the art of avoiding incrimination having heard his father play that tune so often that when he was drilled they couldn't clearly find blame and then just as quickly as that problem was solved, Ray was back.

*** I woke to find Ray standing a few feet from my bed. The "counselor" who at first was working on getting my kids taken away from me and who had, more recently, been working on actually getting me help, was sitting on the other side of the bed in a chair. There was a cherubic faced nurse standing beside Ray with a "so proud of herself" smile on her face. The counselor didn't look so sure. I said, "Ray, come closer."

When he did, I swung my fist as hard and fast as I could. I was aiming for his cheek, a large surface area which gave me the best target I could manage but I must have missed slightly because suddenly Ray's hands were covering his nose and it was leaking blood. I had ripped the IV needle from my hand and winded myself so badly that all I could do was lie back and breathe heavily for a few minutes. If I had known at the time what all else Ray had been up to while I had been incapacitated in the hospital, I am sure I could have drummed up enough energy to carve his eyeballs out with my fingernails as well.

When I saw Ray2 enter my room later that day, the weight of the world seemed to lift from my shoulders. I asked him to curl up on the bed beside me and just stay with me a while but turned my head to the wall when I thought better of it. "Hey, Ray2, do you think you can find me a toothbrush and some toothpaste somewhere?"

"Sure Mom. Your hair is kind of dirty too though."

"O.K. thanks, but let's just get one thing done at a time, ok buddy?"

"Sure."

"And find my phone please."

*** A few days later, I was sound asleep when suddenly I couldn't breathe, not even gasp. I threw all my energy into moving my arms and legs but they were frozen. I tried to twist but I was trapped. I had thoughts I was going through sleep paralysis but it was all too real. Then I realized hands were at my throat. I could feel elbows dug into my arms and a knee digging into my thigh. I fought even harder trying to reach for the nurse's button as I felt hot breath in my face, "If you ever raise a fist to me again, I'll kill you."

Then I felt myself freed and while I was trying to regain consciousness I saw Ray2 plummeting Ray with all he had, pounding and pounding. For all his size Ray2 was still just a child to Ray's burly 210 pounds so Ray just picked him up and threw him so hard he landed like a rag doll and banged his head against the wall. I finally reached the nurses button and she came in fast asking, "What wrong here?"

I asked her to call security and not let "that man" in my room again. Ray2 stayed until late when the nurse came in and told me she didn't know what to do. She felt bad but would likely lose her job if she allowed Ray2 to stay. I asked Ray2 if he still had the number of that sheriff that had come to pick us up from the farm house and he said he did and I said call him. Then I asked about my phone again and Ray2 sighed. I knew it had been a big request and didn't want to pressure him. "What's up, Buddy? Don't worry about it. Whatever it is, it's not your fault. What happened?"

"I asked Dad for the phone and at first he said he didn't have it. Then I told him he'd better get it but he kept putting it off so I knew he wasn't' going to give it to me. The last time I asked him for it he said, "I am not going to give it to her until she settles down. She has this crazy idea this whole mess is my fault and I am not the one who ran myself all over town, ran myself into the ground, knowing I had a big move ahead of me, until I was sick. And that shit is contagious. She got our daughter sick as well. Now she wants to go around blaming me for her behavior and I won't have it. She's going to get on that phone and call all around stirring up all kinds of trouble making up all kinds of lies and then once it's done I am going to have to clean up after her and I just don't have the time to do that right now. Somebody has to get our house in order. I have to get you and Eve back in school after the Christmas break is over and she isn't thinking about those things now. She is just lying in bed in the hospital with all kinds of people taking care of her thinking about herself and I have to think about us, about you and Eve. So just give it a break ok, Ray2? I don't want to hear about the phone again."

"He said it in that really threatening way Mom, like I thought he was going to do something mean if I didn't listen to him."

"It's o.k. Ray2. It was a BIG request and you did more than I expected. Please don't worry about it."

"That's not all, Mom." When he wouldn't give it to me I spent some time looking for it and I finally found it. I didn't want to take it knowing how mad he'd get but I thought as long as I had it I'd call Aunt Madeline and tell her where you were. So I did, but she didn't answer. I left a message for her but then I couldn't get rid of the call. I knew when Dad got back he would see I had called her so I called again and asked her to cut the phone off and get you another one. I have no idea if she did but I hope she did."

"Ray2, you are brilliant; are and always were; b-rill-i-ant!"

### 13) June 9, 2008, North Shore Lake Tahoe, California Side

I was so comfortable that I started getting slightly tipsy, something I would never have dared to do with Ray around. I wasn't saying much. I was just enjoying listening to the two women talking on and on about their jobs or lack thereof, the job market, the state of the economy and all sorts of things bigger than themselves. I thought about how different Madeline's life had been than mine. She was not even a year younger than me, raised in the same household by the same parents. She had the same education to an extent and we had even shared many of the same friends. Yet she woke every morning, met a group of women at a park and ran five miles in full jogging attire with hundred dollar running shoes. Then she came home, made herself a late' in her hundred dollar coffee maker, put on a quality suit, silk shirt, expensive lingerie and shoes, picked up her briefcase and whatever newest phone devise on the market, entered her garage through her kitchen and drove off in her Mercedes SL. I imagined she and Jason probably exchanged pleasant mantras encouraging each other to have successful, fulfilling and enlightening days before they parted company.

Neither woman had even mentioned their spouse in five hours. I didn't even know what Dawn's husband's name was or what he did. Nor did I wonder or care. I wanted husbands to remain unmentioned this whole vacation as though they didn't exist.

Eve's new friend came out with Eve begging her to try to stay longer. The girl had a huge grin on her face and assured Eve she would be back early tomorrow. I asked where she lived and when she told me I asked the girls to go in and get the boys to walk her home. While they were gone, Madeline's friend lit a joint and asked if I wanted some. "No way, thanks anyway, I hate that shit." Thinking, no wonder she doesn't have a job and her son is on Prozac. Madeline didn't smoke either and I thought no surprise who has a job and who doesn't. I was reluctant to admit it but there was one small benefit, Dawn was a talker and it made it hard for Madeline and I to communicate so I thought it might quiet her down a bit.

*** The night air was still warm and the cocktails, the conversation and the food had been good. I was reluctant to let the night end but they were tired and wanted to get some sleep. I could understand. This was just another night to them. To me...to me it was another life. I didn't think I'd fall asleep as quickly as I did but I guess I was more tired than I thought.

The next morning I was up before anyone in the house. I walked out to the deck and saw the rising sun and thought how nice it would be to see it sparkling on the lake. I attached the leash to Keo's collar and took him down to the lake. There was a private dock belonging to the subdivision and I took him out on it and he jumped in the water. I panicked thinking how would I ever catch him but when he tired and tenderly walked up the rocky beach, out of the water, I was able to step on the leash when he wasn't paying attention. When we got back there was a new car in the drive space and Madeline had a late' waiting for me.

### 14) November 2001, Emery County, Utah

By the time I had recovered a bit, Madeline and Jason walked in my room. It was beginning to feel as though I had taken up permanent residence at the hospital, getting visitors and all, but I had only been there four days and was getting ready to be released. Not so much as because I was well enough to go but because I had no money and the hospital accounting office and the pseudo counselor who was now acting as a social services representative, were in combat over my bill. As far as I was concerned they were on their own on that as I not only didn't have the money, I didn't have a prayer of ever getting it.

Then I found out they had grilled Madeline when she announced she was my sister and wanted to know if she would be paying the bill. She asked me if I wanted her to pay it.

"Please don't even consider it. It's enough that you came. You have no idea how much it means to me." As I spoke her face slowly came into focus.

"My God Maddi, what happened to your face?"

"It's just a chemical peel Pen. I had it done three days ago. It takes about ten days to heal. I wasn't expecting to see anyone but when I got that message from Ray2, I was worried sick about you."

"Christ it looks horrible Maddi. You look like a burn victim."

"That's what it does, Pen, it burns the top layer of skin off."

"Does it hurt?"

"It hurts like hell. It's not supposed to but it does. It's a little scary too but my friend had it done and she looks ten years younger. I will let you know how it turns out."

"How much did you pay for them to do that to you Maddi?"

"About a thousand but I heard you can get the stuff over the counter from Canada and do it yourself. I can get it for you if you want to try it."

"That won't be happening in this lifetime, but thanks for the thought. I hate that you and Jason have already gone to so much trouble for me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Pen. We just want to know what we can do to help."

Then I turned to Jason, "Please, Jason, can you leave us alone for a moment?"

When he was gone I pulled down my hospital gown and asked Madeline to take pictures of the bruises Ray's elbows had left on my upper arms, the one his knee had left on my thigh and then the fingerprint bruises on my neck. Neither one of us could believe how dark they were but I knew how much they hurt."

Madeline said, "I always knew he was capable of this Pen. What are you going to do now? How can we help? Oh, I forgot, here's another phone."

Tears came to my eyes as she showed me the shiny new phone and how it worked. She told me how I could go on the internet with it if I wanted to and get directions or find out about movies or anything I wanted. I just sobbed and held her. She said, "Please stop Pen. It makes me feel bad that something so simple means so much to you. I have so much. Please let me do something for you. It would make me feel better. I feel like a piggy."

***Madeline and I went down to Eve's room together. I was still pretty weak and wondered how I was going to fare outside the hospital when I got winded just walking to the elevator. Eve was still under closer watch than I was and it was apparent why when we saw her. She was painfully thin and her skin was white and translucent. She was pretty listless with the exception of the manner in which she treated Madeline. She stared at Madeline with cold piercing eyes and turned her cheek away from her when Madeline bent down to kiss her.

You could see right away what Ray had been up to. Eve's room was filled head to toe with presents opened and unopened. The chair and floor had stuffed toys, a little purse, a glittery gold boa, dolls, clothes, and everything imaginable that a little girl might want and all pink to boot. It was indicative of how little Ray knew Eve. His daughter hadn't touched a doll, a purse or anything pink her whole life. She was a tomboy all the way doing everything she could to be Ray2's shadow. If he had gotten her a pirates costume, a sword, and a pair of cowboy boots it would have meant so much more but as it turned out it didn't matter. Eve had never been endowed with one iota of Ray's attention and now she was at the center of it. He had even brought pictures of her room he had sitting and waiting for her – all pink as well – puke! My, he had been busy.

And he had apparently been busy with the nurses as well. The angel faced nurse was completely taken with him and I wondered if she had slept with him. It was crazy the way I thought about that every time I saw a woman moon over Ray but I couldn't help it. It seemed to me as though every woman in the world was sleeping around. While those thoughts crossed my mind I thought about Madeline who was leaning over Eve, attempting to make a connection with her. I wondered if Madeline had been faithful. We hadn't spoken about her life in any meaningful way in years. Just one other way Ray's antics spilled over into my life and other people's lives. His chaos poisoned even my thoughts and words with my sister. I vowed to know her better and make an effort to be the older sister I was supposed to be.

I asked, "What's the matter with you, Eve? Why are you being so rude to Aunt Madeline?" She wouldn't answer me and she wouldn't look at me. She didn't say a word to either one of us so I didn't try to kiss her or show any tolerance for her attitude. I told her, "I am going to get to the bottom of this Eve. You'll tell me or you'll tell Ray2 but I am going to find out what you are up to. I don't give a damn how sick you are, I don't like your attitude and it is making me quite angry." She didn't turn her face back toward us before we left the room.

When the sheriff brought Ray2 back that evening to visit I asked him to go down and see Eve and find out why she had been so rude to Madeline. He came back saying she was dead asleep but had a pretty good idea it was all of the stuff in the room and also he knew that Ray had told him and Eve many times over the years that Aunt Madeline didn't have any kids of her own so she was trying to take Ray2 and Eve away from him to live with her. He had probably filled her head with more of that, knowing Madeline would be on her way to help me. It was vintage Ray. Sprinkle a big lie with a little bit of truth to validate it and make it seem real.

It wasn't until days later that I found to what extent Ray had been courting Eve. He had told her she even had a friend at the new house waiting on her and presented her with a picture of a little girl who he claimed was living next door. He told her she was a year older than her and blond just like she was and just waiting for her to get better and come home so they could be friends. I wondered if Ray had slept with her mom yet.

### 15) June 10, 2008, North Shore Lake Tahoe, California Side

The new SUV belonged to Madeline's friend Cindy. I wondered why so much car for a single lady but I guessed it was just a trend. She certainly didn't look like she would be four wheeling anywhere anytime soon. She did explain she was looking for property up at the lake and had the vehicle in anticipation of the winter road conditions.

I had a moment lapse in cognitive thought and almost mentioned Ray's talk about getting a real estate license but I sure as hell wouldn't be recommending his services. I would only do that to someone I was really pissed off at and why the thought of Ray would even cross my mind in this idyllic setting was criminal. I played meditation games to clear the negative thoughts from my head.

Cindy was a live wire, but in a good way. You could use the same terminology to describe Dawn but with Dawn it was unsettling, nervous, unconstructive energy and with Cindy it was playful. She was sharp, quick and entertaining and I liked her immediately.

Physically she was the polar opposite of me, or close to it. She was short with a round face and figure. She had true Irish coloring with golden brown hair, white skin and huge sky blue eyes. Where I was lean and angular, Cindy was round and full. My dark brown hair came in an explosion of waves while Cindy's hair was thick and heavy, shiny and smooth. As Eve said, her whole hair flowed liked a slow moving wave around her head when she turned it from side to side. Eve came up with these eloquent descriptions out of the blue and I had hopes this gift of hers might someday be honed into use as a writer.

Dawn was sharing a room with her son. Madeline and Ray2 each had one of the two single rooms which were really closets and Cindy and Eve and I had the bunk style loft that opened out above the living room. We had a bathroom upstairs as well so it lived like a girl suite.

Eve had begged Ray2 to sleep up there with us the previous night, and he had, but it looked like with the arrival of Cindy he would be back in the single room. If Eve had her way, Cindy would have had the other single and Ray2 would have been upstairs with us but he was 15 and I was getting messages from him that he needed more privacy than Eve was willing to give him. They had been a duo since she was born and she wasn't ready to put any distance between them. I would have been more comfortable with Ray2 upstairs with us as well but I was taking the lead from Madeline and respecting that the "normal" world view might be that a 15 year old boy doesn't cuddle up with his mom and little sister. I was cautious as we had had to group together as a means of survival and I didn't want that to be a lasting crutch my children took out into the world with them. I was going to have to start making some moves toward mutual independence and besides, the only reason we were so buddy-buddy at the moment was that Ray wasn't around. They loved me but with reserve. They saw me as responsible for all that was Ray.

But for the moment all that didn't matter. In that immediate moment in time that was our vacation, they were healthy happy and whole. Ray2's hair didn't hang across his face, his head and eyes were not cast down, and his shoulders appeared broad, high and straight. Eve didn't glare at me, didn't snap at me and didn't challenge my every move. She sounded like a child when she spoke, not a jaded, disgusted adult...and the healthier and happier my children appeared the deeper and more dangerous my resentment became. It was clear that without the drugs, the depression, the suspicion, the fear and the anxiety only one common catalyst was absent, "Ray". I didn't need a therapist to help me work my way through the anger. I just needed to step outside of the whirlwind for a moment to get a clear picture of all the baggage we had accumulated.

When I thought of my son, beaten emotionally and physically, environmentally and mentally, a wild rage bubbled inside me that caused me to have to shake my head to clear it. Thoughts of my daughter, a pure and perfect baby raised in ridicule, resentment, disappointment, criticism and confusion took my breath away. All I ever hoped for and dreamed of was tied in those children and Ray was ruining it. Right then I drew on all the powers of the universe to see and know my heart and help me.

After Ray2 rearranged himself downstairs in the single room by Madeline, and had carried Cindy's bags upstairs, we made arrangements for a trip to the beach. Just like that, everyone moved in synchronization toward one goal. Every moment seemed like heaven or wonderland. There didn't ever seem to be any chores or problems. If I put a load of clothes in the washer, when I came back it was dried and folded with another pile of clean towels beside it and another load started. If I went to empty the dishwasher from the night before, it was already done. I hadn't spent a dime yet had had more enjoyment in the last 24 hours than I could have had at a $2000 a day spa resort.

We packed our beach gear in two of the SUVs and drove tandem down to King's beach. The water was freezing and the sun was hot. It was an awesome day. I gave Eve and Ray2 money to get lunch on the deck of the restaurant that overlooked the water. Madeline kept asking if I wanted to go eat up there too, her treat, probably assuming I was watching my finances but she had no idea how satisfied I was, that I couldn't possibly want for anything else. I was enjoying the freedom of having Ray2 and Eve entertain themselves without having to hover over them or orchestrate their every move.

The rest of the day went by too quickly. Madeline left for a bit to go get Keo. She had discovered a dog friendly zone at the end of the beach and didn't want us all coming home exhausted to a restless dog. She took Eve with her who was hoping to find her new friend, Celeste, running around the neighborhood or at the community pool. Celeste didn't have a cell phone and her mom was at work so she was a bit hard to track down.

I would have been glad to offer the kids kayak rentals or some other activity but Ray2 and Todd seemed to be having fun just exploring so I kicked back and closed my eyes while Dawn and Cindy went to scour the nearby souvenir shops. My life on the other side of the lake seemed a million miles away.

In no time the breeze coming in over the lake chilled the air and it was time to get thinking about an evening meal. Uh – no. As we were loading the cars I heard Madeline shouting, "Get Keo out of there". Apparently he had loaded himself in the SUV that had the dinner in it thinking, "That one smelled good". Again, whatever chore I thought of was already performed by one of these efficient well-reasoned women. I thought of all I would be capable of if life was this easy and organized.

Eve spotted her friend a block before we pulled in the driveway. Celeste announced her mom was bringing home the new DVD release "Anaconda 4" to watch on their big screen TV in their game room. I invited her to dinner and she jumped on the side of Cindy's car. Holding onto the door handle she hollered "Go, Go". But wisely Cindy said, "Get in or get off".

There was one last force of energy required to get the cars unloaded, towels and swim suits hung or washed and the dinner from Styrofoam containers to tummies.

The take out from Jake's on the Lake was awesome. No dishes to wash was even more awesome. Soon we found ourselves out on the deck, the four of us locked in hilarious combat over who had had the most outrageous blind date. It was great fun and I thanked the spirits for the gift of companionship and all it could bring.

### 16) December 2001, Emery County, Utah

Madeline came to the hospital to say goodbye. Both she and Jason had to get back to work and they had a five hour drive to the Las Vegas airport to catch a flight to the bay area, then another hour drive home. I wished they hadn't had to go through so much trouble; especially since I was beginning to feel better. It suddenly seemed as though I was nothing but a burden to them.

Madeline sat on the edge of the bed and asked Jason if we could have a few moments together. When he was gone she said, "I would not bring this up at this time but I don't have a choice. Mom isn't doing well. We are going to need to liquidate her stuff and put her in a nursing home."

"Oh my gosh Madeline, what happened? The last time I saw her she looked like she had another few decades before she would even look old. I wish someone had told me something before this."

"Really, we would have but we didn't see it coming. We were going to see her maybe every two or three weeks. Natalie has been seeing her maybe two or three times a year. You have only been out to see her what, once a year or once every two years? So when we'd visit there were small things. She would seem to be puzzled about one thing or another but she would recover fast, you know how Mom is. Then the last time I went to see her it seemed to kind of all cumulate in my mind. I thought, 'She doesn't know who I am.' Then I would say, call her "Mom" or something and you would see the clarity come to her eyes. When we last left, Jason said, 'I am glad it happened to you. I don't think she has known who I was the last several times we have been there. I don't think she even believed me after we told her.' "

"That was several months ago and it has gotten worse. There hasn't even been time for us to consider any alternatives. Natalie went to see her a few months ago and left all upset. Leave it to her to make it all about her and how she felt. She said Mom would greet her in the morning saying 'What are you doing here.' She did take Mom to the doctor and she has gotten on medication but they had to fill out hours of reports and the prognosis was not good. All we are trying to do now is make the best arrangements possible. I thought you ought to know so you could maybe plan a trip out before she is, well totally out of sync with reality because this has hit us so fast. I am going to leave you with that, and also, we are going to have Natalie's son drive her car out to you. She has that Subaru wagon. It only has 60,000 miles on it and Adam said it was good for at least another 100,000. He said he'd like to have it but Natalie and I agreed, the stuff goes to first generation first and anything the three of us don't want can go to grandkids.

"I am sorry I am not too receptive. This is a lot for me to take in right now and I still only feel like I am at about 20% of my regular energy level."

"O.K., we just have one more thing to settle and I'll leave you. What can I do for you before I go?"

I asked her if she could leave me a room at the hotel for a week. They wanted me out of there since I wasn't a paying customer and I needed to be near Eve.

"What are you going to do Penelope? You can't go back to him."

"What do you suggest? I pick Eve up kicking and screaming for her Dad and cross state lines, take her and Ray2 to your house and sit and wait for Ray to come after us? You can't even comprehend the reign of wrath that you would be bringing upon yourselves. Think about Jason. You may want to sacrifice yourself for me and the kids but what about Jason? Ray would destroy him."

*** The Highland Lodge where Madeline had arranged for us to stay while we waited for Eve to get well enough to be released was small and quaint though I found the title "lodge" to be a bit of a stretch. It appeared it had once been a large rectangular ranch style house. At some point in time someone had nailed a false western style façade to the front of it that lead you to assume there would be some kind of rustic architectural ambiance to the interior though once you passed through the false front the woodsman flair ended.

The room was large and clean though not comfy as though the owners wanted to provide the accurate model of a moderate hotel room but didn't want customers to get "too comfortable".

I would normally have felt a cocoon like comfort in the confines of a hotel room with my son close by but Ray2 and I didn't have much with us and the yet unheated room seemed stark and cold without the chatter of Eve. Thankfully, the comforter, which at first seemed just a utilitarian spread, turned out to be a heavy, handmade work of art though the crafter seemed more attentive to accuracy than flair. I thought it must have been built by the same hands that decorated the room.

Ray2 and I climbed under it and he scanned the channels on the remote that operated the oversized old TV which dwarfed the dresser it sat upon. Ray2 found something on the Discovery Channel and we settled down to watch the changing pictures on the screen. I wasn't listening and I was either too tired or too overwhelmed to consider the future and fell asleep.

When I woke 45 minutes later the room was warm and Ray2's eyes were riveted on the battle of the Spartans. I felt I owed him something, some adult insight, some sage words of wisdom, a plan for the future, anything, but all I felt was empty.

"I guess we should find a place to get something to eat." I said.

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry." His head turned toward me but his eyes never left the screen.

"When do you want to go; now or when this is over?"

"I'm ready now. Can we get some toothpaste and shampoo while we are out?"

"Of course."

Ray2 had gone back to the farmhouse from hell, courtesy of the sheriff and picked up a few extra pieces of his, Eve, and my clothes. He had left Eve's at the hospital and carried his in his backpack. Mine were an oversized old pair of A & M University sweat pants that I had picked up at a yard sale and with my tennis shoes made me look like a homeless clown. They were one of the two things Ray2 saw me change into, on a daily basis, as soon as I got home, to preserve the life of any clothing I had that was suitable to wear out of the house.

They were clean and I had no idea when the jeans I had were last washed. I knew I had put them on in Panama City for the drive across the country which now felt like eons ago.

"Let's stop at the front desk and see if they have a washing machine we can use."

When we stepped outside of the front door of the Highland Lodge it felt as though I was passing into another dimension like a sci-fi episode. The slightly elevated, narrow wood sidewalk immediately outside of the lobby door gave off a hollow sound as we stepped out onto it. The landscape, at least in this part of Utah was so desolate it gave the appearance of the few building in the town having been dropped from outer space into some uninhabited wasteland. The icy, gravel road further lent to the temporary stage set atmosphere as they hadn't even paved the roads in a conventional manner.

When we stepped into the only eating establishment in town it was eerily quiet and overly lit. We stood at the counter a few minutes wondering if anyone was even in the building. A minute or two later we heard a door in the back swing open and closed and a fat, pleasant young woman came in and seated us, took our order, and I believe went to the back to cook it.

A few minutes later a really crappy Tony Bennett song started up, crackling from the juke box in perfect sync with the pseudo stage-set ambiance. The Outer Limits and Star Trek came to mind. My head was still cloudy from the week I had spent sick as a dog and the surroundings seemed as though they had been prepared by some remote species that didn't really have a clue. No one listened to Tony Bennett. No one built a town in the middle of nowhere without a single tree, blade of grass, mountain or hill anywhere in sight. And where were the people and the vehicles? Creepy, creepy, creepy.

I was awake for a very long time that night, almost the whole night. I had no job, no money to speak of, and most of my belongings I had collected over the last ten years had been in the truck we had driven across the country. Those that weren't, I assumed, were in Ray's possession probably picked up from the frozen farmhouse and moved to the mystical pink doll house he had Eve believing we were moving to. I felt like a vagabond without a foundation to ground me. At one time the thought of that might have moved me but now it just tired me and even suited me. A vagabond was easy; nothing was expected of a vagabond. Ray did not keep me like a caged animal as are most abused women. That might actually have worked on me as I longed for a home or a nest. Instead he worked to keep me feeling like a groundless, aimless, meaningless, enigma that held no substance and no meaning. I supposed he thought he was crafting an existence in which I would desperately need him for guidance and grounding, substance and purpose but I wasn't a complete idiot.

*** We were a mile and a half from the hospital and I had to go see Eve. She hadn't been away from me for more than three hours her whole life and I was getting agitated. She was probably dealing with it better than I was considering how quickly Ray had been able to bribe her into an alliance but I had to get to see her and hold her myself. If I was going to be lost in this outer space freeze frame I wanted Eve and Ray2 within arm's reach.

A mile and a half might as well have been a thousand. I could not walk it. I tried, thinking I would go a block and sit and go a block and sit, Ray2 being infinitely patient but it didn't work. My field of vision started closing in about a block from the restaurant. We sat on a dry patch of gravel for a few minutes. I thought Ray2 was incredibly self-controlled to not ask me what we were going to do, to not ask me about the future, to not even complain about the cold as we didn't even have jackets with us suitable for the freezing abysmal weather.

It might have seemed hopeless were it not for the surreal quality to it all. In dreams you don't touch or own tangible things. In dreams the landscape, the buildings, the rooms and all your surroundings are incomplete. All a dream contains is the immediate moment, the immediate people and the immediate surroundings. There is no depth, no dimension, no foundation and no future.

I pulled myself together and made it back to the lodge where I arranged to get a ride to the hospital; one step at a time. Sooner or later I was going to run into Ray and I was going to need all my strength. After all, he had been mobile a whole week without restraint and with Ray, you just never knew.

For ten days we ate breakfast in the hospital cafeteria, went to Eve's room for a few hours, ate lunch in the cafeteria, went back to Eve's room, bought a sandwich for Ray2 for dinner and then went back to the hotel room to watch TV. Ray was a cool cat then. He had our stuff. He had a house and he had Eve's favor. He was like a devil to me then.

The two hundred dollars Madeline had given me was almost gone and I had no job and no home to go to. I was loathing having anything to do with Ray but I didn't at the time see any way out. If there had been, I didn't have the strength to consider it and even if I could battle Ray there were forces at work that were bigger than either he or I. Now that I was broken was no time to consider that battle. I needed to get Ray2 and Eve into a home and school. On the tenth day, when I was down to 28 dollars and had only eaten one meal for the past two days to stretch the money, I told Ray2 we had to go stay with Ray until I could figure a way out. He didn't balk. All he said was, "We're never going to get out".

I was awake for quite a while that night after Ray2 went to sleep. He and I had spent some time playing with the new phone Maddi had brought me. I got tired of what was on the TV and picked it up again. The signal was weak and the connection was sporadic but I found what I was looking for. TCA: Trichloroacetic Acid Peels. Sure enough, she was right. You could order it direct. Skin+peel+chemical+TCA . One bottle was enough for 8-10 full face peels. I wouldn't need that much. It came with comprehensive instructions.

### 17) June 10, 2008, North Shore Lake Tahoe, California Side

After the laughter subsided Dawn suggested that we all share our five year plan. Apparently Madeline, Dawn and Cindy had a history of enrolling in self-help programs. It all fit with the exercise regimes, the SUVs and the lattes. It sounded like a healthy game plan but I wasn't a big proponent as there was a new self-help program on the market every week. I was guilty of having tried a few myself but was pretty jaded on the subject. Through all my efforts I had yet to experience the "awakening" so many of the participants seemed to purport.

I wondered if the negativity I felt was my own real despair at attempts and failure or if it was a learned response of negativity; a response to any circumstance that had relentlessly, unfailingly been exampled to me by Ray.

I kept quiet while the three women professed aspirations of which I had none and no want to attain. Hope lead to expectation and disappointment. Either I lived in the here and now or I planned and calculated for the future. I did not dream and aspire.

I was a bit startled when Cindy turned to me and asked what I wanted for the next five years of my life. Her question was inspired by the current program the women were on titled, "Where do I see myself in five years." It occurred to me that it was odd that I could physically be here with these women, looking like my presence made me a forth one of them when really there were three of them and I was an observer, an outsider, a chameleon.

When Cindy asked though, a natural smile came to my lips. I liked her. I felt more drawn to her, more attracted to her than the others. They could feel it too. Cindy was the star and she had chosen me. I was dimly aware that Madeline was ever so slightly agitated, recognizing the second fiddle roll she was accustomed to taking when her older sister was around. Thankfully, her agitation was tempered by her undying devotion to her older sibling and an intuitive desire to see me engage in this female bonding she knew was common place to her but was only presently gifted to me by her special arrangement of this vacation.

I avoided my answer but stayed involved by showing my curiosity about Cindy's goals. She had said that one of her goals was to get into a great relationship with a great guy and to buy a house in Tahoe. I asked, "Didn't you just say earlier that you just broke off a relationship with a guy who lives here? She said, "Yes." "And didn't you and Madeline say he was a great guy, he was good looking, really manly, had his own ranch and he was crazy about you?" "Uh huh." "Ok, well why did you break off this great relationship just to try to get into another one? I am missing something here." She said, "He wanted to make it permanent."

This was a kick to me. She went on to explain that she didn't want to get permanently tied to anyone. She clarified that she liked a good, solid, fulfilling relationship but didn't like them to be forever. I thought, "That poor guy." I wondered if she was as much an anomaly to him as she was to me. And then I wondered had the world changed while I spent my days struggling to survive? Maybe this was the new woman. Maybe the ladies on Sex in the City felt that way. I had once wondered how they could make an endless series on women chasing the men of their dreams. Wouldn't they eventually catch them even if they were kind of ugly? I hadn't ever watched it but now I wondered. Maybe they were like Cindy; actually catching the fish and tossing them back. Not because they weren't big enough but just to try out another type.

We hashed out the subject while Madeline sat quietly and Dawn interjected less than effective comments, trying unsuccessfully to invent a more interesting subject to bring the conversation around to herself. I had to stop and consider her needs and carefully included her by asking how her five year plan was coming along.

The night air was kind of cool and the sun had almost completely set. Ray2 and Eve and Todd came out on the deck, ready to head out to Celeste's house for the movie. Guys normally stand a bit apart from each other, more so than girls or women but Todd was on Ray2's elbow. It warmed my heart to see him so loved by this boy. I was paying so much attention to them that I forgot I was still lying there in the two-piece swimsuit I had borrowed from Madeline. I slowly drew the towel over my waist so as not to draw attention to myself. I didn't think there was anything wrong with it but I was a little worried about the inferences Ray could make from something so innocent and didn't want Ray2 or Eve to have any questions about at least one of their parent's integrity. There were no guarantees about what kind of warped "Rayisms" they might end up taking away from their unconventional upbringing.

When the kids were gone we shuffled around, refreshed our cocktails, and Dawn cornered Madeline with an animated story. She couldn't naturally sit and play second fiddle to Cindy all night so she picked off the most likely subject who was Madeline and proceeded to attempt to draw attention to herself with her hand waving, extreme inflections and volume. Since that only works for about five minutes before someone starts to look for content in the delivery, with Dawn's back turned in an attempt to monopolize Madeline, Cindy's attention soon wandered back to our earlier conversation. It became apparent she wouldn't be distracted and recalled, "You still haven't volunteered your five year plan."

"Well I was just thinking about that. You are looking for a man and I'm looking to lose one. I was thinking maybe we could come to some arrangement."

### 18) 1990, Las Vegas, Nevada

After St. Louis, Missouri we moved to Las Vegas. We had money in the bank and no ties to St. Louis so Ray thought he'd like to try moving out west and Las Vegas seemed as good a place as any to me. He wanted a new start and I'd be closer to my sisters and mom but far enough away that we wouldn't be dropping in on each other. Some of Ray's true colors had begun to show themselves and I didn't think it would be wise to consider he would welcome big family reunions.

Ray got himself a job at a car lot and made a decent living. We managed to live on what he and I both made and didn't need to touch what we had saved from St. Louis. He bought himself an older corvette and enjoyed cruising the strip with the top down showing off his golden tan and white teeth to any female who looked his way. I got a job working in the cage at a casino and made a good living. I took a class at the University and enjoyed the company in my classes and on the campus. I was several years older than the other students but it was an atmosphere where I didn't feel judged as I did by our neighbors in the gated community we moved to in Henderson. Most of the residents were older and looked concerned or wary anytime I took walks, went to the pool or even backed my car out of the garage. Maybe I was just getting paranoid because I didn't think Ray could have emitted a community wide notice of threat but I had my suspicions that maybe he had had a cross word or two with a few of them and they had spread the word. There was one couple that crossed the street every time they saw me. Who knows, maybe they were just cautious but everyone seemed so friendly with each other that it stood out.

Over the years I had gotten pregnant twice and lost the babies. I'd be pregnant for a month or six weeks and I'd lose it. I knew I was pregnant because I'd miss my period and go get the home pregnancy test and it would be positive. While I'd spend a week freaking out about the possibility, I'd lose it and things would go back to normal. Once, I stayed pregnant for two months and without telling Ray, I set up an appointment to get an abortion and when I went in it took the doctor two minutes to look and say, you are having a spontaneous abortion. I asked him what that meant as I hadn't heard the term before and he told me I was losing the baby naturally; that I wouldn't need an abortion. It was a great relief and I went home and told Ray. I had a big talk with him about how I had been pregnant before and luckily had lost them but if he didn't give me time to insert the diaphragm or if he didn't put on a condom we were going to be in trouble and I couldn't use abortion as a means of birth control. He went from "what would be so bad about that?" to "how exactly is this my fault?" I told him it wasn't. It was my fault. It was my fault that we stayed up all night getting high, acting crazy, fighting and making up, cruising the town, gambling at the five dollar tables, seeing the strip shows and generally living this chaotic, wild lifestyle without a care. I don't add irresponsible to the list as at the time the fact that we worked and made good livings, drove nice cars, and lived in a nice house made me believe we weren't irresponsible. That view changed when I became pregnant the next time and didn't lose it.

In the months we spent living in Henderson and working in Las Vegas, I grew progressively less tolerant of alcohol and weed. I wasn't taking any hard drugs and the joy we had had in the past seemed to be increasingly forced. We use to run all night laughing and having great fun but it didn't feel that way anymore. Ray seemed to be dragging me along and there was a new undertone of anger to his demeanor that hadn't been present before except during arguments. Now it seemed to be there a lot. I didn't just sit there and watch it, I tried to talk to him about it; how we just didn't seem to be happy anymore. He'd claim he had no idea what I was talking about and he'd go out of his way for a week or two to try and bring the old light hearted banter back. He'd take me out to dinner and treat me like a real date. We'd go to a show now and then and he drank quite a bit less than he had in the past. He really was making an effort but it didn't seem to me as though without the wild partying that we had much in common. There was a good night or two but in the light of the day Ray never seemed entirely happy. He was good to me but he seemed to find a fight or trouble with every person or situation we ran into. Even getting gas or grocery shopping the clerk would do something that Ray found offensive and an argument would ensue.

We were out late one night at about 3am, I know because of the police report. I had been drinking and wasn't feeling well again and had my eyes closed in the passenger seat, Ray was driving. I had been trying to get him to take me home for over an hour to no avail. We slowed down and I opened my eyes a slit to see what for and had a vague glimpse of a whore leaning in his window taunting him for business telling him his girl would like it too, she'd show him. He snapped at her angrily a few times and called her a whore and I had a short glimpse of her back walking away from the front of the car before I shut my eyes and felt the car jerk suddenly to my left and accelerate rapidly and then a horrendous jarring thud as we hit something hard. I jerked up and felt the car roll up and over something and we squealed around a corner and Ray pulled over. Putting his hands to his face he cried, "I hit her, I hit her".

I was sober in an instant and opened the door to run back and see the woman's body laying twisted in the street. There were five people standing around her staring back at us. I was relieved Ray had stopped, sure that all five had witnessed the incident. In that raunchy neighborhood we would be as easily remembered as a black man at a Klu Klux Klan meeting. The street was well lit and the night sky was bright with a full moon and stars. It was so light as to look like a movie set in the night and when I looked down at the bloodied and bruised head of the woman I felt as though I was living in a dream until I felt the bile rise in my throat and I turned to empty my stomach in the gutter.

Ray was so remorseful it was hard to reconcile his attitude with my recollection of the events of the night. He never wavered from his claim that it was an accident and that she had jumped in front of the car as he tried to escape her rapidly amplified heckling. Ray was sued and included in the law suit were claims that she had her jaw and hip broken, permanent brain damage and would need permanent care. I have no idea to this day how Ray did not end up with a permanent judgment for hitting a pedestrian but he didn't. In fact in typical Ray form he got off scott free. I did once say to him, "I saw her back Ray. She wasn't in front of the car. She was walking away and a good two feet to the left of you. You had to swerve to hit her." It was so brazen a claim and I had been sitting with my eyes shut for so long that it was easy for Ray to deny the accusations as the claim that he did it on purpose was too ludicrous.

I quit drinking entirely after that and strangely enough so did Ray. He joined a local golf club and took to playing on Saturdays. I had never seen Ray associate with anyone, ever, without wanting something from them. I was constantly concerned about what he might be up to but was in sheer heaven to have a few hours in the house on Saturday to myself. I started a container garden and made a call to one of my sisters or my mom every Saturday. It turned out I was able to make one friend in the subdivision, a lady named Kate who sold real estate for a living. Thank goodness for the real estate business. Realtors couldn't afford to alienate prospective clients or leads so I had Kate and I was happy. Then one last crazy night of partying, we came home and had unprotected sex and four weeks later I felt this one was different.

I don't know how or why but it just was. I wasn't drinking and I was working nights at the cage so my lifestyle had changed drastically. I wasn't living the fast life and I thought maybe without the distractions and self-deprecating behavior my body was ready to house a child. I wonder now if this was the universe providing the fertile ground for the birth of my son. One view could be that we were just playing Russian roulette and soon or later one of the pregnancies was going to stick but I never felt attached to the others. My mind just never went there. I had just panicked each time before, knowing we were in no condition to care for children.

This time when I told Ray he was ecstatic. "This is what we want Pen. This is what we need. We'll make beautiful babies. We've got plenty of money now. You can quit the cage and we'll get married. I've always wanted a son...hell, two or three...let's do it Pen, let's get married." And he got bombed that night in celebration.

### 19) June 10, 2008, North Shore Lake Tahoe, California Side.

It began as a titillating conversation; two ordinary middle age women entertaining this edgy concept. The thought we could direct this piece of baggage that was useless and trash to me and transfer it to the other who "might" have some use for it, put Ray in the exact light I wanted to see him in. I was seeing him as an inanimate object that had worn out its usefulness and it felt good and right. It was exhilarating. I felt powerful. Had I not been drinking these nights I am not sure my disciplined mind would ever have gone there. But I was drinking. I was happy, calm, unthreatened, unwary, rested, and in the best form I had been in, in ten years. That in of itself lent strength, clarity and reasoning to my thoughts.

The background noise of Dawn's animated voice soon ceased and she and Madeline crossed the threshold and moved back out onto the deck with Cindy and me.

The silence was pregnant with unspoken thoughts. Even Dawn who wasn't comfortable with silence and clearly didn't respect the benefit that a pause, hesitation or break in a speech could bring, was still.

Cindy asked, "What does he look like?" And Madeline answered, "He's really, really good looking, like drop dead gorgeous." Silence again. Madeline hadn't heard a word Dawn had said for all her efforts and now Dawn's attention was diverted to the electricity that seemed to be passing through the three of us.

Madeline had brought this group together and I wondered; how calculated was this arrangement? Was one picked "just because they were available" or "just because they had a kid my kid's age" or did Madeline, sharp as I knew her to be, calculate personalities and consider what combination might create dynamic content? I wondered that then, when we all four were together, moving in synchronized thought, when I could feel the cooperative attitude and conduit between us. Looking back now I wonder how much of a part did the universe play in our actions. Were our stars all in alignment? Was it destiny? Were we directed on this path, facilitated by the convenient cooperation of time and place?

Not only had Madeline answered for me she had inadvertently said the only positive thing I had ever heard her say about Ray. It is funny how positions change in relationships. Madeline, contributing to the radical conversation, answering a question put to me, announced her complicity in the game and where she stood as well; squarely behind me. It made me smile to think, Madeline may hurt when she takes a back seat to her older sister, she may hurt when that same sister seems to connect with a stranger better than she, but you've got to love that blood connection. When there's a stake in the game, electrical attractions and chemistry be damned, blood trumps all.

Dawn was quiet, I think trying to gage how she could get in on this game. She held no cards and no connections. I, for my part, loved discussing a daring brazen coup which stood in stark contrast in my mind to the default position of the quiet, cowering drone I had been playing at home.

"Well, what's he like? Clearly you aren't fond of him, Madeline, and don't try to tell me otherwise."

"What good would it do if I was? I liked Brad and you dumped him. I love Jason and he bores you to death and if Dawn's husband even comes up in casual conversation you groan. Well I can tell you Ray is a real man. He is everything Brad and Jason and Ryan aren't. Right Penelope?"

I squinted my eyes and focused on Cindy as though really weighing her seriousness. I let a minute go by to heighten the suspense and answered, "What he is besides hot, that Jason isn't, is smooth as shit. He's confident, funny, sharp, attentive, engaging, and electric. You'd like him, believe me; everyone does."

"Madeline doesn't."

"Doesn't mean she doesn't want to sleep with him. The only thing that keeps her from jumping Ray's bones, is knowing he is married to her sister. Right Madeline?"

O.K. That was too much, even for a joke and in a moment Madeline was out of the game. The electricity was gone, the night air was cooler, the cocktails were gone and it was quiet; everywhere but in my mind.

### 20) November 1991, Las Vegas, NV

I was in the second trimester of my pregnancy with Ray2 when I began to have trouble shaking the nagging thought that I was seeing just too much of Ray. It was hard to justify the feeling because he was my partner and he was very good to me at that time. On the surface it was flattering and comforting that he was so attentive but underneath it all I began to get annoyingly frequent feelings that he was too close or too touchy or too aware of me. It was little things like him offering me a massage and then it going on a too long and a little too hard and a little too invasively and while I was just sitting up from it and trying to sort out my uncomfortable feelings about it he was scheduling another one.

He started calling me when he knew my breaks were scheduled at work. He stopped going out entirely and seemed to be sitting at the door when I walked in, just waiting for me to enter. All throughout the pregnancy he tried to get me to quit working. The more insistent he became the surer I was that I needed to stay working to get space. He wouldn't give up on it which turned out to be a good thing because it made me just all the more determined to continue. The only way I could appease him was agreeing that he could drive me to and from work. I thought surely this will get old, it's just silly, but he kept it up until the day I went into labor. Little did I know at the time that he would have been there, whether he had driven me there or not. During this time we never really argued. He would press for things and I would feel I was being pushed too far but I would just gently and firmly hold my ground. At that time there were still some checks and balances to his behavior and he did from all outward appearances, respect my boundaries.

Ray was giddy with excitement about being a father. I can't deny it was infectious and there were times I was happy to be around him then. One particularly bright Sunday morning when I was feeling quite large being eight months into the pregnancy, he asked me to marry him for the thousandth time and I agreed. We went to the courthouse for a license and then drove to a little chapel on the strip. It was quite an idyllic day and we topped it off with a mini honeymoon by checking into a two thousand dollar a night room at the Bellagio. We ordered champagne and dinner up to the room and had sex all night long. Ray was strangely obsessed with my pregnant body and I was more than several times short with him about how invasive he was getting. We left the next day with Ray on cloud nine and me a little shaken and relieved by the thought I would be due at work in twelve hours.

*** I had Ray2 at the St. Rose Dominican Hospital in Henderson at 2 am on March 1st, 1992. I loved him from the moment I laid eyes on him. I was a devoted and happy mother. Pretty much nothing else in the world mattered to me but that baby. Ray was on a constant high since I was home, on maternity leave, paddling around the house in my slippers and bathrobe. He loved having his little family in a tight cocoon.

Madeline, Natalie and my Mom scheduled visits to come see me and the baby. We were always close growing up, being a household full of women, so it was only natural they come to see me and their grandson and nephew. Ray's mood went straight to hell the minute they arrived. We were made uncomfortable by his dark facial expressions and his somber attitude. Each of them asked me several times, "What is wrong? And "Should I leave?" I should have known but didn't until I was told much later, how really rude he had been to them whenever I wasn't in the immediate vicinity.

I pulled Ray to the side and had long stern talks with him about how important it was to me that he treat my family with courtesy the few days they would be there but he literally couldn't do it. He left for the last two days Natalie was there and left again one day after my mother arrived. He was able to be civil to Madeline probably because Madeline is good looking and Ray always likes to keep his options open.

It was emotionally exhausting to have post pregnancy hormones raging in addition to the tension in the house. Looking back, I know now I lost a lot of ground that month. Ray saw I was vulnerable, with a new baby, and worried about the short time I had with my closest relatives and that I didn't want to cause a full-fledged war so it set a precedence. It was the first of many times Ray would be threatening while I would be bent over backwards to maintain peace. I can see now that I should have come down on him much harder. Neither Natalie nor my mom has ever visited me since.

I was very, very angry about Ray's behavior toward my sisters and my mother. It was unforgivable and I am still angry about it today. I am ashamed in the last years I had with my Mom, my relationship was severed by Ray. It is one thing to regret your behavior, behavior you are responsible for but how do you ever reconcile someone else's behavior when it has cost you so dearly.

When my maternity leave was up I went back to work four nights a week. It was gut-wrenching to drop Ray2 off at the caregivers at six weeks old but I was still stinging from my family visits. My residual anger made me all the more determined to keep my job. I needed the space going to work offered but I didn't want to miss a moment of Ray2's babyhood so I virtually spent a year without a good night sleep.

I no sooner had Ray2 then Ray started pestering me about having another one. I was nursing and on the mini pill so I felt pretty safe but he wouldn't let up. He was so turned on by my nursing that he wanted to have sex while I was nursing. It was sick and I told him so. Then he started up every time I expressed milk to give to the caregiver for night feedings. He was so obsessed I had to go in the bathroom to express milk and it finally got so I just expressed milk at work so he wouldn't see me.

Fourteen months after I had Ray2 I was pregnant with Eve. If I ever heard an adult woman claim she didn't mean to get pregnant or didn't know how it happened I would think "What a joke? Who do you think you are kidding?" Those thoughts came to bite me in the butt. I wasn't drinking, I was watching my cycle, taking the mini pill, nursing and making Ray wear a condom religiously. I was way too apprehensive about our relationship to bring another child into it. Yet I did get pregnant. I would like to blame it on Ray somehow but though I can blame everything else in the world on him, I don't see how he could have maneuvered this. It was just that he wanted it so badly that I suspected he was somehow to blame.

Never the less I loved Eve as much as Ray2; maybe more. When I was in the hospital having her I had my tubes tied. I loved my babies and the finality of that action made me love them all the more. I didn't tell Ray because, I guess I can say now, I was scared. In the recesses of my mind I had the understanding that he had an agenda that included keeping me pregnant and I wasn't up to acknowledging it or facing the confrontation that would result if I issued it. It wasn't right to do it without my spouse's knowledge but I felt like I was on a rollercoaster and needed to get grounded before I completely lost it.

### 21) June 12, 2008, North Shore Lake Tahoe, California Side

When I woke on Thursday I was alarmed to think that almost half of my vacation was over. I was living a dream and I didn't want it to end. I felt alive with awareness. I had been noticing people and my surroundings. All of my senses seemed to be activated. I tasted food again. I felt the weather, I heard what people said and I really listened and processed it. I noticed nature; the sound of birds, the smell of the pine trees, the crunch of the needles and dead leaves under my feet. I noticed the smell of my car, the smell of the sunscreen we wore, Eve's clean, shampooed hair, Keo's fur and the redwood deck we sat on daily. I heard cars starting a block away and soft music playing two houses away.

I gave myself a few minutes to bring to mind some of the wonderful moments I had enjoyed in the last few days and then as quietly as I could I crawled out of bed, slipped on my sweats and snuck downstairs and outside. Keo was still as a statue as I hooked the leash to his collar. I have never had time for a dog of my own so whenever I did get a private minute with Keo it always amazed me how he synced to my every emotion. I wondered if he could read me so well because I was similar to Madeline or if he could do that to any human¬¬¬¬¬ and if he would do that to any human. If Cindy, likeable Cindy, came down would he sync to her as well? I guess I liked to think our bond was special; he was such a majestic dog.

When we got down the deck stairs Keo started pulling on the leash and for a few minutes I held back and then decided to try running. So far the spirits had been good to me. I was forty three and almost everything was holding together as well as could be expected but I hadn't put one iota of effort into postponing the inevitable. I just really didn't care. But I did think it might be nice to at least be able to run. I picked up speed but no matter how fast I ran; Keo wanted to run faster. He kept a constant pull on the leash that made it a little uncomfortable. My speed wasn't of much consequence as I didn't last at it for two blocks but I did feel intensely invigorated. I was breathing deeply and had a light sweat that the cool morning air brushed against. When we got to the water since I had tennis shoes on and Keo walked so gingerly on the rocks, I very stupidly let him off the leash to give him some freedom. What a mistake that was. I watched him wobble around on the rocks looking like he was lost and couldn't get his footing when all of the sudden when he was within four feet of the soft dirt and grass that bordered the rock beach, he took off in a wild run. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

The community dock was on a beach that was only about twenty feet wide before it met the main road that lead around the lake. I chased Keo about two city blocks screaming at a lady who was out on her deck as Keo passed, "Stop him. Stop him". By the time what I said registered and she was putting down her coffee and slipping on her shoes to take off, Keo was another block away and I was passing her as well. Then he took off to the right, away from the lake. He started climbing the steep road into the neighborhood adjacent to the one we were staying in. I was so out of shape it was ridiculous. My thighs were burning half way up the first block but I kept climbing. I was not going to lose that dog. Madeline had spent ten thousand dollars on Keo the previous summer when he had been bitten by a rattle snake. Her excuse was that had they told her it was going to cost ten thousand, she would have said "put him down" but they had initially said it would cost fifteen hundred. Twenty four hours later they needed another eighteen hundred and so on. Each time they said it she thought "my dog is worth more than that to me" or "it would cost that much to replace him". Until, by the end of the two months the entire ordeal took, the bill had eventually reached nine thousand eight hundred and fifty four dollars. No, I was not about to lose this dog but I was friggin' furious. The next people about a block ahead was a crew of construction workers that were unloading equipment to start their work day. One guy saw Keo coming and saw me chasing him and jumped off the back bumper of the truck and took off after Keo as well. It just caused Keo to turn off the road into the forested area between two houses and he was gone. I saw it all and stopped where the rest of the workers were and asked for the use of a cell phone.

Two plus hours later and almost five miles away which doesn't even account for all of the god damn circles we made through all of the neighborhoods, we had Keo in Madeline's Mercedes SUV. "What happened?" she asked. "Don't even effing ask. It was too stupid to be believed so can we just leave it at that?" And just because I could, I swore at Keo the whole way back.

Truth be told I wasn't even mad a Keo. I was kind of proud of him. I reflected on how they could domesticate a dog but they couldn't change what was innate. Huskies were bred to run so Keo might sit patiently and royally inside the deck fence watching the world go by but he would forever be waiting for a break; to fulfill what he was born to do. The chasing was kind of comedic the way people could see him coming and see the scenario unfolding but were incapable of stopping the inevitable. I really only swore at him for Madeline's sake as I had caused the problem and knew she didn't think it quite as adventurous as I. She had an endless supply of stories of Keo's escapes and several of them had cost time and money so it wasn't novel to her. For my part I had talked to so many people and ran around so much it was exciting and invigorating. I learned there is a whole world of dog people out there who share a bond just because of their love of and knowledge about, dogs.

Later that day when we went to the association pool, I felt like a celebrity. I saw numerous people that we had seen while chasing Keo and they all wanted to tell their stories and hear more about the beautiful dog with the different colored eyes. They were all so warm and friendly that I instantly felt like part of a community. I wondered what it would be like to be friendly with a whole neighborhood of people; to know everyone's business and for everyone to know yours. For the first time in a few days Eve was glued to my side instead of Celeste's' as she loved the attention and the interaction.

I didn't like Eve standing beside me. It reeked of Ray. I remember feeling Ray stand beside me whenever I talked to anyone just waiting for the moment to jump in, take over and run the show. For some reason that I still do not understand today, when I felt Eve needed communication it felt like Ray's need instead of like mine. It would have been better if I hadn't held that against her but I did.

### 22) September 1997, Las Vegas, Nevada

"Ray what is going on. What are you doing?"

"Get up Pen. We've got to get out of here."

"What are you talking about Ray? What do you mean get out of here? Get out of the bedroom? Get out of the house? Get out of town? What are you talking about? What is going on Ray?" He had woken me from a deep sleep.

Ray grabbed me by the upper arms and shook me. He looked terrified, absolutely unlike anything I had ever seen anywhere but on a movie screen. I didn't even know Ray was capable of feeling anything other than anger that acutely, but here he was standing in front of me in sheer panic.

"Ray let go of me. You're acting crazy. We aren't running. We have two children to think about. We can't run."

"I AM thinking about them Pen, and you, please believe me you have to listen to me just this once. WE'VE GOT TO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE."

"I CAN NOT RUN Ray. It's not just you and me anymore. I am not mobile. You can't pick us up and throw us in a truck and cart us off in the middle of the night. My God Ray, don't you understand? We can't run. If it's something you've done we are going to have to take a stand now and be done with it. You are going to have to come clean one way or another."

"There's no facing it Pen they'll kill all of us. You know what they are capable of. All I need is a little time. I swear to God Pen if you love your children you'll get them up right now and get us out of here."

The whole time he was talking he was throwing clothes and shoes and toiletries in a suitcase. He untapped the gun from under the bottom drawer of the chest and stuck it in the back of his pants while I sat back down on the bed in an attempt to take stock.

I said, "No I don't know Ray. I really don't. What in the hell have you done? This is bullshit." I started pulling things he had thrown the in the suitcase out in frustration and as he threw more in I shouted, "Stop it Ray. Stop it right NOW!" and then he hit me in the left temple and everything went black.

When I woke I was in a hotel room with Ray2 and Eve. They were mesmerized by a dancing cookie commercial on cable TV. I couldn't lift my head but looked around carefully and saw suitcases and duffle bags strewn about with things half way pulled out of them.

"Ray2 where's the phone?" He started backing around the room eyes darting here and there never taking his concentration from the TV. We didn't have cable at home and they were fixated but he managed to cover the whole room before he started backing up into the bathroom. I knew it wasn't there.

"Forget it Ray2. Find my purse." He picked it up and handed it to me. "Ray please get my phone out. He started digging in the purse without looking at me glancing down every once in a while to see what he was holding. Staring at the TV still he said, "It isn't in here, Mommy."

"Ray2, listen to me. No look at me; I need your full concentration."

"I don't want to look at you."

"What's the matter?"

"Your eye is gross Mommy."

I had forgotten about it for a moment but as soon as he mentioned it the throbbing became the central thought in my mind. I had to close my eyes and think of a minute. "Dump the purse upside down Ray2 and go through it."

Normally Eve would have been at his side, considering this a great game but the damn TV was blinding her to anything else. I'd have to remember that if I ever needed to distract her. She could be a hand full with incessant chatter so I considered myself lucky and acknowledged gratitude. The class I had been taking at U of LV had been in positive psychology. One of the exercises you had to do to be a "happy" person was acknowledge gratitude for things around you and I had scored really low on that account. If there was anything I needed right now it was to find a happy place.

Ray was just 5 then and I had to consider his age when I thought of my alternatives. Would I get up or just send him to get help. It struck me how regularly I had to rely on him for things at such a ridiculously young age.

### 23) June 12, 2008, North Shore Lake Tahoe, California Side

That night after we chased Keo all over hell and back we held a barbeque on the deck that faced two sides of the street; something we never, ever, would have done with Ray. He would have had us sequestered in the back yard with only himself for entertainment and without anyone possibly passing by and speaking to us or bothering him. The whole celebrity atmosphere continued elevated by the fact that it was Cindy's birthday. Eve finally left my side as the gathering grew to include a few more kids.

Everyone that walked a dog that night got a cocktail. It was cheap of me to think it but I couldn't believe the stock of liquor these women had bought in anticipation of someone asking for a particular kind of drink. I friggin' loved it. I didn't really talk all that much but just watched and flitted from group to group. People came on the deck, some had a bite to eat, some stayed too long, some reluctantly left after one drink, some made plans to come back later and many told us where they were staying and made make shift plans to have an open deck barbeque at their place in the following days.

I didn't have any extra cash and I couldn't help but be reminded that anything I bought might have been paid for by Madeline as she had given me some money for the vacation. I wanted to be part of the celebration so I wrapped a long handmade lace scarf my mom had brought back to me from her trip to Italy. It was an exquisite scarf but I hadn't ever worn it because it had some bad memories attached to it so I gladly re-gifted it to Cindy thinking it might get some use. Madeline's eyebrows rose and she turned and left the room when she saw Cindy open it but I was satisfied.

I was refreshing my drink in the kitchen when I found Madeline standing beside me doing the same. She asked how everything was going, was I alright, was I enjoying myself. I said yes to all of the above but that I really needed to get together with her for a few minutes or maybe an hour in the next couple of days. I told her I had had a response from a book publisher and wanted to discuss the next step. "That's exciting. That's really exciting!" She said. I said, "Not really. It's probably not anything but I wanted to go over a response with you so I don't lose out on the opportunity if it does come together." Madeline wanted Cindy and Dawn in on the discussion claiming they had quite a bit to contribute. Cindy was a public relations consultant with her own firm and Dawn worked in sales and marketing for a large software company. It seemed rather presumptuous to bring everyone together to discuss an email response but Madeline was excited and besides, as she told me later, she was worried that she did not possess the business acumen that the other two did and didn't want me to limit myself to her advice.

That night it was the first time since we started vacation that I had had enough. I was so tired that I went and collapsed on the bed upstairs in the loft before everyone had gone home. It seemed like time was playing in slow motion that night. I woke later and heard people digging in the freezer for more ice and later still, woke again to laughter out on the deck. It seemed as though they were saying goodnight but I couldn't be sure and though half asleep I think I woke twice again before the night was quiet enough for me to sleep through till morning.

The next day I was so satiated from interaction that I felt I needed some space and suspected Ray2 might as well. Eve might have needed a little quiet herself since she didn't seem to know how to put the brakes on but she had gone to spend the night at Celeste's house so she would have to fend for herself. I peeked inside Ray2's room and found him lying in bed with one eye squinted open to see who was entering his room. I told him I was going for a run down to the lake (a little over exaggeration) and asked if he wanted to come. He asked that I give him a few minutes, which I did, and we met on the street with Keo on the leash again.

I had a morning made in heaven. We ran down to the lake and I did not let Keo off his leash. We walked leisurely to a coffee shop that sat right on the lakeside highway and ordered fancy coffee and pastries. The traffic squeezed by as the road narrowed and curved so sharply that it appeared the cars slowed just to be viewed by the coffee shop patrons who sat at the tables outside. Ray2 said he had never seen me so happy and I said he had; that he had just forgotten. I reminded him of when he was young; before we moved to Panama City and he acknowledged remembering. He said "You use to laugh a lot then". And I said, "Yes I did."

I really looked at him then. I supposed to the rest of the world he looked like Ray but more and more I saw things in him that reminded me of my dad. Things I didn't even know I knew about my dad until I saw them in Ray2. My dad had passed away when I was eleven and I remember thinking when I was about fifteen that I couldn't really envision his face anymore. Now here it was thirty years later and it was as though there was a piece of my dad across the table from me. Ray2's hands and fingers were just like my dad's had been, really large and long and they moved quite gracefully when he used them. It suddenly struck me he should have been given guitar lessons. He had the hands for it and my father had been insanely good. I would see what I could do about it when I got down off this cloud I was on and had settled back in hell on the other side of the lake.

By the time we got back to the house Eve was pacing the living room asking where we had been. She had a habit like Ray of getting anxious when she couldn't instantly get a hold of me. I warily asked her what she had needed. "After all", I told her, "You were the one who wasn't here". She said she and Celeste had seen Ray. It felt like a bomb dropping. "Where?" I asked her. "He was parked outside the rental office. He was really bugging me. He wouldn't stop asking me where you and Ray2 were.

"What an asshole" from Ray2.

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing, obviously. I told him to go away, that he was ruining everything but he kept going on and on about wanting to see us. He wanted to take us to lunch."

"Never mind. I'll take care of it. Where is everybody else?"

"They all went and rented a boat to take out on the lake and I wanted to go too but I didn't want to go without you guys. Where were you? Why didn't you take your phones?"

"Honey, I didn't think we'd be gone that long. We just went for a walk. Come on, get ready. We'll go catch up with them."

"How can we do that? They're on a boat."

"Don't worry. They can pick us up at any dock. Just get your stuff and let's GO before your dad gets here."

"He's not coming here, is he mom?"

"Come on, we're three blocks from the rental office. He probably already knows where we are. He must have seen the car." No one moved.

"GET Ready! Don't just stand there Ray2. LET'S GO!

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!

"What?"

"Ray2. I HATE THAT NAME, I HATE HIM AND I WISH HE WOULD DIE. I DON'T WANNA BE CALLED THAT ANYMORE!"

"Fine, I didn't know that. Can we talk about it in the car?"

I ran upstairs, grabbed my swimsuit and phone and ran back down and stood at the door screaming for them to get swimsuits and flip flops and get in the car. After they exited, I locked the door, grabbed towels off the deck and followed them to the car. My phone was vibrating the whole time. I wondered if he was watching us and would pull up and block the car.

"Get in. Get in!"

I threw the car in reverse and drove recklessly away. With every margin of distance we got away from the house, Ray2 announce another item that wasn't taken care of. I immediately turned off the main road and made a few more turns into the next neighborhood and stopped the car. We hadn't left Keo any food or water. We hadn't packed any food. We didn't have any sunscreen. We only had two towels and one of Ray2's flip flops was broken. The whole time my phone buzzed. I checked it and found seven missed calls. I gave the phone to Eve and said, "You check it".

She said it was o.k. Four of the calls were from her, earlier and the last three were Madeline and some other number she didn't know. I took the phone and called Madeline. No answer. Ray2 offered to cut through the woods and go back to the house, get Keo taken care of, grab a snack, some towels and sunscreen but he was going to need some new flip flops.

Ray2 wore my flips on his trek back to the house while Eve and I waited. I was pretty sure Ray wouldn't catch him and pretty sure if he did he'd stay away from Ray2 until Eve or I were there to mediate. He had absolutely pushed Ray2 to the limits that last night at the house and he knew it. He was going to work me or Eve this time.

My phone rang and it was Madeline. We made plans to meet after lunch with Eve whining the whole time, "I wanna meet them now...I wanna meet them now". We were a half hour away, Ray2 had no shoes and he wasn't going to be any fun to be around if I didn't get him a full meal.

He returned without incident and lots of food. Eve brought up calling Madeline back to arrange to meet earlier so many times that I had to pull the car over and straighten her out. Ray2 looked dark. That is the only way to describe it. He wasn't talking he was just eating voraciously with a very piercing look in his eyes. I pleaded with Eve six ways to Sunday just for peace. I didn't know what made her flip like that; perhaps a lack of sleep the previous night, perhaps seeing Ray, or possibly a reflection of my anxiety. I told her over and over SHE was ruining this day; not her dad. He was nowhere in sight and not to blame. I hoped it gave her a sense of empowerment and as a result, maybe comfort.

For myself, I blocked out the bad and just concentrated on my wonderful morning and choosing out flip flops for Ray2. He was particular and slow so every few minutes I turned to the girl's selection and helped Eve choose a pair as well. She perked up remarkably with the attention and unusual offer of a purchase without dire need or pleading. It felt good to hand over the three twenty dollar bills from my stash and better yet to sit in a restaurant on the lake and get burgers and fries. It seemed no matter what the volume of it, if it wasn't at a table, on a plate, and designated, "meal", Ray2's appetite couldn't be satiated. Eve, so concerned about her weight was extra perky when I asked her to please forget the damn diet for once and just eat a burger and fries.

The boat ride was crazy good fun and the boat was a monster. Todd was thrilled not to be the only kid on the boat anymore. They had rented a huge inner tube and a tow rope and we all took turns until we were exhausted. We could have exchanged the tube for knee boards or wake boards or skis any number of times all day but Eve and Ray2 and I were having so much fun our vote was to not waste a moment going back to the dock.

Nothing could ruin that day. I was only sorry when the sun started setting. We had to hunker down low in the boat as Cindy drove full throttle diagonally across the lake to beat the sunset to the dock. While the wind and waves thundered my mind couldn't help but wander toward what to do about Ray. If he got it in his mind to crash this party he wouldn't be stopped easily. Realistically the only real hope he wouldn't surface and ruin everything was that he had something else going on, somewhere else to be, or someone else to meet. I prayed to God and all the spirits to please not take this week away. It was hard to pray without thoughts of all Ray would manage to warp just through his presence, crossing my mind. Everyone would feel the squeeze, the sudden evil, the threat, the inevitable destruction of any pleasant feelings we might have been experiencing. I felt hopeless to the depths of my soul; just another form of the poison Ray spread in his presence.

When we had returned the boat and were loading up to go back to the house I asked Ray2 to drive announcing "the adults will go in one car and the pesky teens in another". I told the kids to get their showers before we got there as we were stopping to pick up dinner. As always Ray2 asked that we please hurry as he was "starving". When we were loading up the cars Madeline asked if anything was wrong. I told her I just needed a minute to call Ray if they could wait. There was no sense in telling her he had been in our neighborhood, that Eve had seen him, it would just spread the anxiety.

While the women waited and I stood outside the car chilled to the bone from my still damp suit I called Ray. Thankfully, he didn't answer. I left a message of greeting, telling him we were well and that we would see him at the end of the week. And to please not come around again, it was "a little creepy" – attempting to keep it light. I knew Ray would absolutely hate, hate, hate that message. He wouldn't have any way to feed me a half hour of how I was mentally deranged for thinking a father can't call his kids when he is a few blocks away and ask them if they want to grab a bite to eat...how I was deranged for thinking there were conspiracies everywhere and on and on and on. But I would definitely hear it later. I am talking about a hundred times later. Like, "Remember that time I tried to get some lunch with the kids on the North side of the lake and you said I was stalking my own kids...that would really look good in court Penelope...saying a father was stalking his kids when he hadn't seen them in several days and just drove by to ask if they wanted lunch...that's the kind of wacked out stuff you do that makes people think you're a nut." Until I wished to god I had just let them have lunch and he drive them away and I never see them again but that wouldn't be the end either. He'd come back for me. He always would.

On the way back up the west shore toward Tahoe City and Agate Bay, I borrowed Madeline's phone and brought up my email with the note from the publisher. Everyone was really excited and said this was "it". Cindy said, absolutely no agent at this point; maybe in the future. She suspected the publisher would have a standard contract and that there would be little leeway with respect to modification. After the first was published I would probably need an attorney and an agent to negotiate subsequent books in the series.

"Madeline, I said I was you" I told her.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I have signed all my emails as Maddi Schaffer and when she asked where I lived I said San Jose. Now she wants to meet me."

Madeline said, "Go. Great! That's not a problem. You can straighten it out when you meet her."

"I don't want to. I want you to go. I want it to be your book. I want you to handle it. There are just way too many ways this can get screwed up for me if you don't do it, Madeline."

"Ok. Ok. I'll do it. Don't worry. I just feel bad that you aren't putting your name on your own book or meeting the publisher or any of the other exciting things that come with publishing a book."

"It'll be fine. The book won't get out at all if you don't do this. You know as well as I do that Ray would tear this apart if he got wind of it."

"Do you mind if I read it? It might be a good idea if I know something about the book I supposedly wrote."

"Ha! Yeah...I'll send you a copy. What are we doing for dinner?"

### 24) September 1997, Las Vegas, Nevada

A very sympathetic Officer Hernandez drove Ray2, Eve and I to a shelter for battered women on the out skirts of Las Vegas. I had no idea what we were going to do and I needed time to think. Ray had always had criminal tendencies, always been erratic and unpredictable but his was new. He had always seemed in control and to be working with some intention. Last night he had lost it, hit me, picked us up and moved us, dumped us...I had no clue what was going on. I hadn't ever seen him so out of control, even loaded up on drugs, and I had to get some sort of footing before I saw him and he got crazy again.

Everyone at the shelter was black, the lady who ran it, the maintenance he-she who lived there and the three women and their children who were there temporarily until permanent housing could be found. It was strange because there was not that large of a black population in Vegas. The Hispanic population was running well over 60%, documented or not, but there weren't any Mexican women there, coming or going. I wondered if Mexican men didn't abuse their women or if Mexican women just put up with it...or if just black women got abused or if next week they would all be white.

Ray2 and Eve loved it. There was a huge TV that had been donated to the shelter and it stayed on all day in the "family" room. There was this really tall, stick thin boy with thick lens glasses that Ray2 took to right away. The boy seemed to know every card game ever invented and Ray2 had just the patience to sit and listen and learn.

One of the ladies sheltered there was practicing Avon sales and had gotten a large set of samples donated by a shelter benefactor who was clearly working both sides of the street. She donated $100 in samples and got a residual off all of the recipient's future sales. It was uplifting for the lady in residence though as she took this new prospective career so seriously. She spent a good deal of time making up both Eve and I because she said she didn't know how to make up white women and didn't want to confine her business to black women since they "dinnever have no money".

At about 1:00, after we had milk and baloney sandwiches for lunch, Officer Hernandez returned, entering the family room with a young man. She was dressed in one of those short-waisted bomber jackets with high tight regulation police uniform slack and work boots. I hadn't taken notice of what she was wearing earlier having so much going on myself and being beholden to her for her help and sympathy in my time of need. Now, when she entered the room and I was relaxed and less needy I noticed how corny she looked like one of the women on the RENO 911 comedy shows. What the hell was this nice looking Latino woman doing in police menswear standing with her legs two feet apart? In a flash I knew that she realized I was judging her and felt terrible. I couldn't take it back. She called to me in an overly formal voice that revealed our changed relationship. In the early morning we had been two women in company of one another and with one thought I had driven a divide between us that spoke of primeval prejudices neither one of us was old enough or experienced enough to even understand.

When Carmella, which I had known her as before I decided to judge her, called me over, I realized it was the contrast between she and her companion that had drawn my attention to her attire. He was taller than she, but not a large man. He stood to the side and behind her alternately looking at an imaginary spot on the wall and back at the doorway through which they had come. While Carmella's stance announced and established her authority and intention, her companion's stance appeared to do just the opposite. In fact by the time I was introduced to him I still wasn't sure he was in the right place or what he was doing there.

I was ushered into a private room by Officer Hernandez and told, "This gentleman needs to speak to you, and I'll go see to your kids". When the door was closed I realized I had to tilt my head up quite far to look at his face which was still turned away from me. He was older than I had first thought with dark grey hair covering most of the area around his ears and at his temples. Close up I could see many fine lines extending from the corners of his eyes. And when he finally turned to look at me I thought, "That is why he keeps his eyes diverted" – they were sky blue like Ray's with a dark ring around the outside. He could put on a sack for a suit, slump his shoulders, tilt his head down, all of the above, but once you looked him in the eye his little inconspicuous, incognito game was over. You could go two years and never see a single person with eyes like that but look at a Hollywood line up and find every fourth name on the roster came with electric blue eyes. Cameron Diaz, Paul Walker, Paul Newman, Russell Crowe, Clive Owens, Charlese Theron, "Unforgettable," is what they were; so unforgettable producers banked millions every year on that guarantee alone.

"Ms. St. Claire, I am special agent Sean Dorsey with the FBI."

His wallet was open in front of me somewhere around lower chest level. I was staring at it but not really seeing it and not seeing those blue eyes anymore either. For some reason I was focused on the fabric on his sleeve and his hands, nothing special about them I just didn't want to think for a minute and those were in front of my face when I heard his words and looked to see what he held out.

All the blood drained from my face. I could feel it. It felt cold and numb quite the opposite of flushed or embarrassed. Agent Dorsey was motioning to the couch and kind of guiding me but not speaking. I wondered if he was going to expect me to start confessing some wealth of information relating to Ray's criminal activities because if he was, he was going to be disappointed. We sat in silence for quite a while. It was my impression that he expected me to become uncomfortable and start chatting. I wondered if that ever worked on anyone over eight.

"What do you want?"

"Do you know where your husband is?"

"I have no idea."

"Would you tell me if you did?"

"Of course. I'm the one who went to the police in the first place."

Silence and those blue eyes. He turned away. I remember thinking he wasn't very good at interrogation. Shouldn't he be keeping eye contact, waiting for me to break?

"What do you want him for?"

Big sigh...looking out the window as he hesitated...he was a nice looking man. He didn't seem aggressive enough to be an FBI agent but I had heard they hired people with all kinds of secondary talents like accounting, computer science, medical specialists, etc. Maybe he was one of those. He looked like he would be comfortable in a lab coat but somehow I didn't think they would send a doctor or an accountant to look for Ray. I wished it could be that simple but nothing involving Ray was ever simple and somehow the fact that this man was not what he seemed made me realize I was way out of my league. Unexpectedly, for the first time in my life I was scared of the good guy. I had spent so long being cloistered by Ray that I didn't even trust myself out in the big bad world.

"It would be better for all concerned if you could help me locate him."

"I noticed you didn't answer my question."

"He is a person of interest with regard to a number of illegal activities we are sufficiently confident you are well aware of so rather than waste time playing games about why we would like to find your husband, why don't you make an effort to help us locate him which might just save his life and yours."

"I can easily see why a lot of people would like to get their hands on Ray but I have never had anything to do with any of Ray's illicit activities. I don't have any information that would be of any value to anyone and further I have never profited in any way from Ray's activities. I can see why you would like me to believe I am in jeopardy but your threats are baseless. I have one concern and one concern only and that is the safety of my children."

Then agent Dorsey tried the silent treatment again. We ran into a lot of stalemates that day as that was a tactic I often employed. I was a silent treatment warrior; it was the only way to deal with Ray. Ray peppered me relentlessly and I just sat quietly letting him sink himself so I was good at waiting it out. The trouble with the exchange with Dorsey was he wasn't a talker. He wanted what he didn't say to worry me. It didn't so he finally had to explain it.

### 25) June 14, 2008, North Shore Lake Tahoe, California Side.

Everything was right in the world those last two days of vacation. The weather was awesome. Nobody ever got irritated, frustrated or angry. Nobody snapped or spoke sarcastic words. We were different people than we were at home. I thought we could be this way always. Madeline thought we were funny saying "this is just wonderful because it is a vacation. We all have to go home to our dissatisfying lives too." Eve said Madeline had a totally different perception of daily life than we did – that her biggest problems were problems her clients had, not problems she had, that she had no clue what a really "dissatisfying" life was. That was my perception as well. What I wasn't sure of was, if Eve had that view because I had taught her that or because it was real. If it was real that meant there was a life out there for me, for Ray2 and Eve that was not filled with worry, anxiety, fear, or impending sense of doom.

Those two days went by way too quickly. Friday we went canoeing down the Truckee River. It was a blast. We rented three canoes and did not bring anything but drinks as the guide told us there was a restaurant that overlooked the river about an hour and a half down from where we started in Tahoe City. The scenery was breathtaking. I'd recommend the adventure to anyone who was interested but I doubt I'll run into anyone who wants to talk about river rafting in Tahoe for a while.

We were so tired when we finally drove back through town that we decided to go home and shower and go out to eat. I really hadn't spent much of the money I had saved and I wanted to insure the euphoric feelings we were experiencing continued.

After we ate Ray2, Eve and Todd went down to the game room in the basement of the restaurant and we sat at the table having after dinner drinks that had never tasted so good. Those girls could drink. I couldn't stay up with them. I felt like my system had been through too much and didn't filter alcohol too well anymore. I sipped slowly but tasted the new liquors that kept arriving at the table. Relatively sober, I sat and listened while Dawn and Cindy argued their views about extramarital relationships. Dawn claimed they were an inevitable pitfall of most long term relationships while Cindy espoused their benefits. I remembered as they spoke that I had wondered about Madeline's relationship with Jason. He was not a dynamic personality and I wondered how he had kept Madeline's attention all these years, or if he in fact had. They had married ten years after Ray and me so in truth she hadn't had as long to get tired of him. Personally, I didn't think a person would have any justifiable grounds for getting tired of someone who only offered peace and kindness but then I know people do get tired of that. And those that do...man would I love to give them a try at a few years of possessive, obsessive, self-absorbed, masochistic abuse and see if they didn't think what they had was pretty special.

I had this idealistic view of Madeline's life and marriage that kept me believing it was possible for all to be right in the world. I should have left it that way but that night, since they were talking about it, I asked, "So Maddi, have you been playing the devoted wife to Jason?"

I expected some banal banter to be passed back and forth and then when that was over she would tell me the typical mid-age housewife, tired of my relationship sort of things that people normally keep to themselves. Instead, she fell apart and quickly. Even worse, Dawn and Cindy didn't speak at all when the subject came up but rather clammed up tightly as though knowing this was not a subject that should be hashed out. My face was red. Red for bringing it up and red for not knowing how serious this was to my sister when clearly these other two knew well and deeply what it meant to her.

"I am so sorry. I had no way of knowing this was such a sensitive subject. Whatever happened, it isn't the end of the world. In fact it probably doesn't even matter now. Jason is kind and forgiving and you don't have any children to complicate matters so let's just change the subject and forget I brought it up – which I didn't actually – it was Dawn. I just chimed in." With that Madeline forced her way out of the booth and headed for the bathroom.

The turn in the conversation definitely killed the party. Cindy called for the bill and Dawn went downstairs to get the kids while I went to the restroom to check on Madeline. "Madeline if you ever need to talk to me about it, I'm here for you. I mean I know I haven't been, but things have been changing for me. Ray2 and Eve are getting older and I am too. I would love you to call me some time and talk; anytime really."

The silence that followed was awkward and I regretted the years and the choices I had made that had put the distance between us. I stood at the sink handing her cool, damp, folded paper towels to pat her face. When she felt she had calmed the redness down as much as she could she picked up her bag and turned to leave. I stopped her and put my arms around her and hugged her long and hard. I reminded her how special she was to me, how much she meant to me and how there were times in my life I would never have been able to pull through if it weren't for her. I told her she was a great sister and there was nothing she could ever do that would make me think otherwise. That started a new round of crying. All the drinking we had done I am sure aggravated the situation, but she finally stopped by the time were outside and Cindy and Dawn had pulled up to the front of the restaurant with the kids loaded up, ready to go back to the cabin and hit the hay.

As I lay in bed I thought about Madeline more than I had for as long as I could remember. If an extramarital affair was the worst she had to come up with, life would be a cake walk. In my world it was as inconsequential as what you had for breakfast. I wished I had her problems.

### 26) November 1997, Las Vegas, NV

If Agent Dorsey was correct, Ray was involved with a car thieving ring that had their tentacles spread farther than just St Louis and Las Vegas. They had upwards of a dozen places they were selling stolen cars with this new system the FBI was calling "cloning".

They would take the VIN number from legal cars and use them on the stolen vehicles so that when they were licensed, insured or registered anywhere in the country they would come up clean. At that time the federal government didn't have a central bank of information on cars. When a car was registered there was no way to know it was registered in another state. It would take an act of God to have the original car and the cloned car show up in the same state and when it did...Ray was gone, the salesmen were gone, there was no record at any of the car lots of any of the sales so how could it be checked and who would ever care to check it. Only a few of the cars must have crossed paths at some point because the FBI was onto them. I wonder now if Ray called them himself. It is something he would have done. He was so fond of double dealing and any constraints the crime ring might have put on him would have just given him cause to buck. I wonder too if Ray is proud of the fact that he is responsible for the installation of a nation-wide data system for vehicle registration in America. Pretty impressive.

Sean Dorsey didn't seem like the type to fantasize but that was exactly what I thought he was doing when he credited Ray for far more than Ray he was capable of. The FBI had all kinds of profiling capabilities that outranked my instincts and intuition, which had never proven to be anywhere close to dependable but I never the less continued to doubt small time Ray St. Claire from Milwaukee was as big a part of their organization as the FBI liked to think he was. It looked more to me like Ray could be likened to some small time hood that had gotten a hold of some shit kicking potent weed, was foolishly flaunting it around town and as a result being looked at as a powerful drug lord responsible for a sizable portion of the drug trade crossing into the U.S.

What they were suggesting was out of character for Ray and besides, I doubted any seriously successful criminal would want anything to do with Ray. Ray was an independent operator. He held no loyalties to anyone or anything and while he complicated the world around him disrupting everything in his path, he rarely dirtied his hands, broke a sweat, or performed any actual work himself. The FBI was suggesting quite the opposite. Sean thought Ray was helping to bring the cars in and complicit in the maintenance of the distribution network. He thought Ray was so much responsible that maybe Ray was the one who had come up with the duplicate VIN scheme and then brought it to the mafia for financing and a network to staff the operation; way, way too much work for Ray. Ray was not a documents man and had little if any motivation for grand money schemes. Ray was an opportunist. If something swam by his line of sight he grabbed it. He wasn't one to recruit, mastermind or orchestrate all of which would be necessary were he to be anything other than a salesman.

The problem was, the more I denied Ray's complicity, the surer Dorsey became of his guilt. All he said they had left to figure out was how deep I was in it and what else we were involved in. The accusation was ludicrous. I worked in a cage; often over 40 hours a week. I had a four year old mid-sized sedan. My kids went to County Christian preschool. They had two or three pair of shoes a piece. I kept my hair in a bun 24/7 because I couldn't afford to get the hundred dollar salon visits required for more modern cuts. I had just quit Yoga because the rates had gone up to $120 per month. If Ray was bringing in money from an auto theft ring, where the hell was it? You didn't need to be a rocket scientist to see it didn't add up. But when I protested, he got a smirk on face and leaned back into exaggerated relaxed poses stretching his arms out as though to say, "Here we go again" or "I knew you'd say that".

The second time I met with Dorsey he asked me to call him Sean and introduced me to his partner, Barbara. They said they came to take me home that day. "Wouldn't it be nice to be back in your own bed and to get a few changes of clothing? Won't the kids like being back home?"

"I don't know. What has changed since the last time you came when you said it was dangerous for me to go home?" I asked.

They explained to me that Barbara would be a full time house guest for a while; probably until Ray returned.

We were pretty darn comfortable at the shelter and I had the possibility of working out a trade for day care so I could get back to work soon if they would have me back. I had been at the shelter for 16 days and I had gotten used to it. It was a comfortable routine and I didn't favor another move and I didn't relish a stranger taking up residence in my house; especially a stranger who was a female with more male hormones than Ray. I didn't really want to become chummy with the FBI either. If Ray's pursuers were as bad as they said they were they sure wouldn't like the idea of me bringing the law around. That might actually provoke them.

Sean explained that Barbara would be posing as my sister and would be providing day care while I worked so that a capable agent was watching my children until Ray could be located. He believed that my children and I were in danger of being abducted. He said Ray had stolen a great deal of money from his associates and that they would likely hold one of the three of us hostage for payback. I didn't trust them and didn't think they gave a shit about my welfare or my kids' welfare. The whole plan just stunk. I was just beginning to get my bearings after the jarring upheaval we had gone through being dragged from our home and thrown into that hotel room then calling the police, being shuffled to the shelter, and then reestablishing and rearranging our lives there.

I was tired of moving. My mom still lived in the house where I spent the first seventeen years of my life. If I wanted to go back I could sleep in the same room, under the same bedspread I slept under when I was eight years old. When I was eighteen I received a full ride and moved into a dorm room at St Louis University. Two years later I got my first apartment. That was all the moving I had done in the first 25 years of my life. In the last five years with Ray I had moved six times. If you counted the shelter it was seven and back would be eight. One of those moves was across the country. I had agreed to that mostly because Ray seemed to have burned all his bridges in St. Louis and I had not allowed myself to develop a sense of community there. When I went to college in St. Louis it had always been with the idea I'd return when I was finished. It was to be like an adventure; an adventure that would end when I returned home.

Instead, it seemed to me I was on a never ending adventure that wasn't ever fun. And more importantly, I was now adventuring with the weight of two children on my shoulders, a weight I felt I carried alone while Ray ran ahead, away from the bridges he burned behind us.

All I had ever wanted out of Ray was just for him to pay his own way and not cause us so many problems that the FBI would be hunting us down. Well, the FBI wasn't hunting us down. They were hunting Ray down and they could have him and the house in Henderson and everything I had ever owned. I really didn't care. This last stint was too fucking much. I felt good, whole, healthy and capable at the shelter. If I could keep my job I would be fine. If I could get just a few of the kid's things I would be even better. Both the FBI and Ray's "associates" could park their asses at that house and wait for him for all I cared. I wasn't going back.

### 27) June 15, 2009, North Shore Lake Tahoe, California Side

The Subaru I had loved so much just a week ago, for being wholly mine and for driving us to this wonderful destination with the sun streaming in the window, now stunk to me. It seemed shabby and all too familiar. It was a symbol of what all we didn't have, the shiny much more modern SUV and the destination of good home and future. As we loaded it I felt responsible for our dismal attitudes. When Ray2 was three years old and I was working away from home he would cry horribly when I dropped him off at the day care. The lady said it was my fault; that I gave him the idea that it was not ok to be away from me...that there was nowhere else for him to have gotten that notion. It made me feel like shit though she might not have been entirely right; I have always thought there was a grain of truth in what she said. I firmly believe that our world is whatever we perceive it to be so if I perceive myself to be in a miserable existence caused by Ray, does that mean I made it that way because it is my perception and further am I responsible for Ray2 and Eve's perception as well?

We packed the car ever so slowly. We were going to be the absolute last ones leaving. We had to check out by noon so we arranged our gear so that we could go to the pool all day and just change into another set of clothes to drive back. As I was walking a load down to the car I got a really weird feeling that I was being watched. I wondered if Ray was back. I finished stacking the pile in the car and then backed out and slowly surveyed the area being careful to note anything that didn't look like it had previously in the week. Eve was putting her things in the car and noticed that I was on high alert. "What's the matter mom?" she asked.

"I don't know I just got this strangest feeling I was being watched. I wonder if some busy body is looking out their window checking us out."

"You're talking about Dad. It is weird that he didn't come back after that first day. He doesn't usually give up that easily."

"He was probably side tracked. He's not that interested in us unless he doesn't have something else to distract him. I am probably just jumpy because we're leaving and I don't want to."

"We don't have to mom. You are how old? 40 is it? I think it's time you decided you could leave when and wherever you want to."

"I'll give it some consideration Eve. Can you let it rest for the moment? I'd like to enjoy this last day."

"That's just it, Mom. We aren't enjoying it. It is like a God damn funeral and your crap about 'I'll consider it' is just so old it stinks like shit. Don't you ever think about Ray2 and me, about how we feel, about what we have had to put up with all these years and how you won't do shit about it?"

"Eve, now YOU are ruining everything. I don't need you here to start the ranting. Please can you give it a rest and stop the swearing it is disgusting coming out of the mouth of a thirteen year old. You sound like trash and I would like just ONE MORE DAY please." But in perfect imitation of her father she ranted and chewed at me the whole time we loaded the car and half way through the time we spent at the pool. It wasn't until her friend called her on it saying "wow, give your mom a break, Eve" that she actually did.

Dawn stayed with us at the pool all afternoon but Cindy came fully dressed, clearly prepared to take off for the ride home right away. She sat on the edge of a chaise lounge next to me looking a little uncomfortable and I got the feeling she wanted to talk to me without Ray2 beside me. I got up with the excuse I was going to use the bathroom and continued talking to Cindy so she got up and followed me. She called goodbye to Ray2 and then did the same to Eve and Celeste as we passed them hanging out at the sand volleyball court. Eve called back warmly waving. It was unnerving to see her jump from vindictive vehement ranting teen to happy amiable small child mode. It made me constantly wonder what she would be like as an adult.

When we were alone Cindy said "Well I really enjoyed meeting you. I hope you will keep in touch."

"Of course I will. Who is going to take Ray off my hands if I don't see you again?"

"Ha, yeah, right, I'll get back with you on that, but seriously, I hope I can call you when I come back up to look at property because I have a deal closing in the next 60 days and I plan on having some capital to invest then. I've been planning on this for a long time."

"Oh sure, of course, just text me or call me when you are on your way. I never have anything going on. I'll look forward to hearing from you."

"Good luck with your books. I am so excited for you. I don't know any famous authors."

"And you still won't."

I walked her to her car and watched my one hope for getting rid of Ray back out of the parking lot and drive off.

### 28) November 1997, Las Vegas, Nevada

I met with agent Dorsey four more times that winter. He really thought I had some information about where Ray could be and about his business. He might still believe it now but I did my best to explain to him that it just wasn't true. If I had known where Ray was I would have drawn him a map, driven him, or delivered him myself but I didn't have a clue. I knew as little of Ray's goings on as possible and by my guess, if Ray didn't want to be found it would be a waste of time to look for him.

I did offer that if he was patient Ray would turn up. That was one thing that wouldn't change. Ray would never leave me. When I told agent Dorsey that he could just wait; that Ray would never leave me, he said, "I wouldn't either." Poignant, but oddly contrary given I haven't seen or heard from agent Dorsey in almost ten years.

Agents Sean Dorsey and Barbara Manfred informed me I wasn't free to make my own decisions about where I was going or what I was doing. They took my children and me into protective custody, pretty much unwillingly. They were holding on to us apparently because along with screwing a bunch of South American gangsters, Ray had screwed the FBI as well. Only Ray. And who was left to deal with it?

The solution was that I was to stick with Ray until they had their case against the king pins. In exchange I would not be prosecuted. I didn't even ask about Ray. Apparently he had made his own deal without consideration for me or his family so he could hang himself for all I cared. I just wanted a safe haven for me and my kids.

Agent Barbara Manfred came to stay with us. I wished she was more likeable. I had been raised in a house full of women and missed the companionship but Barbara was not only very masculine she was so stiff and blunt it was as though we had a robot in the house. I did hear her speaking quietly to someone on her cell a few times while she stayed with us so I gathered somebody loved her though I thought it must be quite a trick to get past that burly façade and booming falsetto voice to get intimate.

The kids liked her well enough. That was important. She was a better father figure than Ray had ever been and after a while she and I seemed to play the role of a married couple quite naturally. I went back to work and we went on like that for about three weeks when as I predicted, Ray showed up. I had taken Ray2 to tennis camp and was dropping Eve off at a recreation program when on my way back to the car I heard Ray calling to me. I looked up to see him leaning out the driver's side window of a vintage white Camaro. It was beginning to look like every asshole I had ever hated knew they could find me at Eve's rec program

"Nice car Ray."

"Is that all you have to say? You fucking took off on me and went to the police Penelope. I told you I was in trouble so you decide to feed me to the dogs. Lot of loyalty there Pen, for the father of your kids."

"Fuck you Ray. You hit me. You dumped us. And now, I am in fucking FBI custody because of you Ray. Is that how you take care of us? You do realize I am not free to leave. I regret the day I ever laid eyes on you Ray. You don't know when to quit Ray. You don't know when to cut your losses and get out. You are a loser and you drag everyone and everything around you down with you."

Ray jumped out of the car and started making all kinds of apologetic motions, spouting off an incessant stream of inanities that bounced right off my brain. I kept walking to my car repeating "Call Barbara at the house. She is waiting to hear from you."

He banged on the window as I drove off. I felt the bump as the back tire rode over his new white Nikes.

When I refused to talk to Ray over the next few weeks he eventually showed up at the house. I came home and found him and Barbara and Sean in the living room one day after work. My first thought was "there goes my happy home life." I was living with a dike that I had NO relationship with yet it was closer to a family and home life than I had had with Ray at any time during the last five years. It was an uncomfortable meeting all the way around. None of Ray's charms worked on Barbara and Sean was in full computer mode deliberately not allowing Ray to read or feel any emotions or feedback. He wanted Ray out there doing all of the information sharing but Ray never gives anyone what they want.

It took about three days but eventually they came to an agreement. The FBI would front the money Ray owed the people in St. Louis and they would expect full cooperation from Ray in return. As far as I was concerned Ray was getting off WAY to easily. I wanted him to suffer for his crimes. I believed in the justice system whether the legal one or the laws of karma but where Ray was involved, it just never seemed to operate the way I expected.

The FBI wanted to position Ray to continue his operations in Northwest Florida and they wanted me to go with him. Nothing I said would dissuade them. I emphatically and frantically repeated that I didn't see how I fit in at all. Ray could go and I would stay. I had a job, Ray could pay a little child support, I would make ends meet but they were insistent that I could not back out or the deal would be off. I screamed "It's off then. I don't give a shit about Ray."

Sean just calmly stated that the FBI would not pay Ray's debts and the whole family would suffer as a result. I shamelessly pleaded with him to understand. When he didn't respond I turned to Barbara and I knew I got to her because she turned to Sean and asked, "Is there anything we can do? I hate to send her off with this asshole."

"You know as well as I do that they are ready to hang his ass in the wind. The funding won't happen without her." As he spoke Barbara received a call she took. She went to the front window and closed the shutters. She turned to me and said with more compassion than she had displayed in the five weeks I had lived with her, "You won't survive if his debt isn't paid." They are watching the comings and goings on here now. If they happen to see Sean, you are in jeopardy. If they have any doubt about me, you are in jeopardy. If they don't see you and Ray as conducting life as normal, you are in jeopardy. Your best chances are to begin the process of moving immediately. Give notice at work and at your children's day care. We will assign a realtor to sell the house and find you one to rent in Florida. The sooner you get on board with this the safer your kids will be.

I didn't give up even then. Ray is not the only one that can beat someone to death going on and on about the same thing. It didn't work. After a time, I went into Eve's room and lay down on her bed and curled up in a fetal position. I couldn't stand the thought of Ray trying to come in and talk to me but thankfully he didn't. It must have been that Sean and Barbara kept him away. A little later I heard dishes rattling and smelled something cooking. Barbara, just like a woman, dike or not, was picking up where I could not. I regretted having judged her so unfavorably. A quiet knock came at the door. I didn't answer until I heard Eve whispering, "Mommy can I see you?" That little blond head could draw me from the pits of hell.

I unlocked the door and went back to the bed. I had no strength to stand. I lay back down and she lay with me without saying a word. If Eve sensed an ounce of strength in me she would never shut up, talking incessantly but she must have known I was at the end of my rope. She lay quietly in my arms.

I didn't change out of my pajamas or bathe for days. I just walked around the house without purpose until Barbara started following me around guiding me to move to the next stage in the process of readying my family for moving. After maybe a week, a package arrived in the mail from Madeline. It contained two bottles of pills. One was a bottle of a large quantity of little tiny blue anxiety pills. She knew I hated drugs but I had been in such a state of nonresponse when she called, (probably prompted by Barbara) that she insisted I would be better off if I took them. I was not capable of making my own decisions so I trusted her. She said the ones that there were only twenty of were for the immediate short term high and the others, the potent blue Zantex were going to take about ten days to kick in. She suggested I take both. I wasn't even able to carry on a conversation and had to pull myself together for Ray2 and Eve so I took the pills. Madeline said they wouldn't alter anything but my ability to cope or deal with stressful situations. Stressful? HA! She had NO idea what I was dealing with.

It wasn't as hard to get our belongings in order as I thought it might have been. We had moved twice since arriving in Las Vegas. We had started out in a townhouse which we stayed in while we looked for something more permanent. It was comfortable with a reasonable rent and I was just starting to get some furnishings and decorations so it didn't look like we were living out of boxes when Ray found a foreclosure he just couldn't pass up. He was hell bent to get us out of the rental and into the foreclosure. I didn't realize until I had completely exhausted myself trying to satisfy Ray's sense of urgency why that was.

I was over at the townhouse doing a final cleaning when a car pulled up in the car park and a man exited and came to the door. He introduced himself as Andy Rush and asked if I was Penelope St. Claire. He was pretty tense and I had no idea why. I felt I had worked my ass off in an attempt to leave the place in excellent condition. I was perplexed when he told me rent hadn't been paid in two months and that he had tried speaking to Ray about it several dozen times. He had just driven down from San Francisco to see if he could get some answers. I was so embarrassed. I told him I had no idea and asked how much we owed him. There was the two months' rent, and three months of electricity which came to $5100. When he saw how dismayed I was he spent the next ten minutes explaining how if he had had some warning he might have been able to get it rented but that now he was not only out the two months we hadn't paid but an additional month while he tried to get it rented again. It just got worse the longer I listened. I told him I would like to help him and keep my credit clean but I just couldn't cover $5100. When he saw I was at least trying he started thinking and trying to find some compromise. He said we had paid first and last month's rent plus a cleaning deposit when we moved in. He said he would be glad to credit the cleaning deposit since he could see I had done well with preparing it for the next rental. He said the last month's rent we had paid when we moved in could cover one of the months we hadn't paid but that still left the other month and the $1500 in electricity and then he would have to eat the time he wasn't paid while he waited to get it rented. We settled on $3200 and I wrote him a check.

As if that wasn't humiliating enough, when I told him the $3200 was not in my checking account, that I would have to transfer it – he firmly insisted we go to the bank and do it "right now". He did follow me to the bank and waited while I made the transfer. He then immediately went to the same teller after me and withdrew the funds. I felt like a criminal. And then before we even left the bank he stood and faced me holding his hand out and asked for the keys. I wasn't even going back for a final look. It made the move into the next home rather less than a celebration. I just hoped like hell the real estate boom would continue and that the foreclosure would turn out to be a good investment because that last check had cleaned me out.

Now that I was moving again, I discovered much of what we owned was still in plastic storage containers in the garage and in our closets. We had only our clothes, our dishes and our linens to contend with. When the meds kicked in and I actually got to work it felt as though I was prepared for this without knowing I had been. I looked around the house and began to feel as though I had never "really" lived there. It was like a stage set up to fool someone into thinking we were the permanent residents and all I had to do was take down a few photos and pieces of artwork and all traces of us would be gone. I hated the grayish white faux leather couches Ray had picked up at a sale without consulting me. They were so outdated, so Las Vegasy. I had bought the dining room set at a yard sale in the subdivision mainly because it came from a house with the same floor plan so it fit correctly. It wasn't anything I would ever have picked out. Looking about I told Barbara, "We'll sell it furnished. This isn't my stuff, I never wanted it. There is no sense in paying to ship it across the country."

She didn't respond and I again regretted my judgment of her. It was a godsend to have someone present who didn't issue or overrule every remark that came out of my mouth until I was incapable of speaking. I thought she was probably a wonderful partner to someone and how hard it must have been on them these last several weeks to have her completely unavailable.

Nobody bothered us those weeks we prepared to move. Ray went ahead of us and I never saw Sean Dorsey again. I marveled at how the "big threat" had disappeared so completely and thought Ray's debts must have neatly been paid or the promise of his continued participation in their ring must have held some mysterious, unimagined value. As it turned out the reason the threat had vanished had nothing to do with us. Four days before we left for Florida the FBI arrested Larry Wayne Harris and William Job Leavitt, at a medical complex in Henderson for possession of "military grade anthrax". They had been under surveillance for several weeks and Barbara assured me that the constant presence of the unseen FBI task force in our subdivision had been what had calmed the threat.

When we were pretty well packed up and a house had been rented for us in Panama City, we had a few moments we were alone in the house with each other. I asked her, why Florida? She said they were bringing cars in through the Gulf of Mexico and if Ray was nearer, maybe they would see the convenience of delivering straight to him and they could follow the trail from Ray backwards to a central headquarters. I thought it an expensive and ambitious plan but beyond that it was of no interest to me. I thought it WAAAY too much work to make a buck and then thought about it no more as I prepared my already shaken family for a trip across the country.

### 29) July 2008, South Lake Tahoe

I was probably too nice. That was all that could have made Ray2 and Eve so rotten that day. When we loaded up to go home it was twilight and I had no intention of calling Ray and telling him we'd be late. He had called me several times at the pool leaving long messages about how he had the grill all ready to fire up and how he had gotten steaks and how he missed us and how he had been waiting all week for this. I didn't call him back because I didn't feel the same about him. I didn't want to go home.

It was a long silent ride home. I would have much preferred to chat the way back, recalling all of the wonderful times we had had but neither one of them spoke other than one word responses with their heads turned away from me.

When we pulled into the driveway none of us moved from the car for a full five minutes before Ray came walking around the side of the house with glassy eyes and barbeque tongs in his hands. He tried to feed Ray2 a piece of meat thinking to tempt him with food but Ray2 side stepped him and said "Cut it out" as he dragged his feet up the front porch stairs. Then Ray went up behind Eve, trying to give her a hug and Eve elbowed him hard and said "get away from me".

"Oh, I get it. I get it. I'm the bad guy now that the vacation is over. Come on everybody let's get some food. Put that stuff up later, you're just tired."

I heard both bedroom doors slam as I entered the front hall and dropped my suitcases on the floor. We were back in the hell hole. I was such a homebody that I should have felt something for this place we had been in for almost three years, the longest yet in almost twenty years, but I didn't. I didn't hate it I just didn't feel anything. It wasn't my stuff, wasn't my house, and I didn't want to be there.

I didn't want to see Ray's glassy eyes, hear him professing nonsense and most off all I didn't ever want him to touch me again. It had been five years since I had been fantasizing about a life without Ray and a few things had changed since that day. I maybe, possibly, had money coming with the books. My own money would make things easier. And Ray2 and Eve...they did not seem like victims to me anymore. If anything, they were more like sentinels; like guards watching and waiting.

### 30) 1998, Panama City, Florida

It took me about six months to straighten myself out after the move from Vegas and by straighten myself out I mean just get myself to the point where I could get up and feed Ray2 and Eve and myself. That was the biggest problem with moving in a nut shell. It set me back six months or a year every time we did it so that I never accomplished anything or got ahead in any way. It kept me feeling like a failure. I was always reorienting myself, licking the wounds of upheaval and reestablishing myself. When I spoke to Madeline about it she said that a lot of women have problems when they have small children because they perpetually consider childrearing a part time job. She said that if they consigned themselves to the realization that it WAS a full time job and that just to accomplish the care and raising of those children on a day to day basis was huge enough, they would be much more satisfied. She asked me "Did you bathe today? Did you dress yourself? Did you see that your kids bathed and dressed? Did you fix breakfast for yourself and the kids? Did you make the beds this morning? Did you wash clothes today? Did you clean the house? When she said it, it sounded like a lot but when I lived it, it felt trivial.

I never had two cents to spend on anything which further substantiated my belief that child rearing wasn't "enough". The FBI might have paid Ray's debt to his criminal friends but that didn't really help us out. I lost a good paying job and we actually lost money on the sale of our house in Las Vegas. Ray's great foreclosure deal lost value every month we owned it. After we bought it they came up with an additional six months of HO fees that Ray hadn't factored in and then the bubble on the Las Vegas real estate market burst. There was just no way around it. I was going to have to get a "second job." I decided there was only one way to do it and started taking in other people's children. In the beginning it worked out really well.

I had a brother and sister from one family and two boys from a single woman. The woman was a nurse that worked ten hour shifts so I took her boys overnight four days a week. She paid well and on time. The other two came days from nine until six. Suddenly I had three hundred extra cash dollars a week. I bought groceries, underwear, socks, shoes, jeans, and haircuts all around. Then Eve broke her arm and I had to pay for that. Then the insurance ran out on my car and Ray didn't have the money to pay for that. Then school started and Ray2 needed school clothes and supplies. Slowly, month by month, I assumed more bills and shortly, didn't have money for groceries again. Every day, exhausted from maintaining a household where I had four children plus mine, in and out the door 24/7, I carefully argued with Ray over where all the money was going, how he was paying less and less, how I couldn't go on like this without a penny, etc., etc. A week or a month would go by and I would run into another person who had a child, and I always needed the money so I took them on, increasing my income and work load but never the bottom line until one day, I woke up and had seven kids besides mine during the day and four off and on six nights a week.

Every time I got a dollar, something desperately needed to be paid. It kept me in a state where I always needed to take another child to pay the bills. I did actually get a license to operate a daycare but I was supposed to have help with the number of children I had. Ray started an issue with the first lady I got to help. He swore up and down she stole a ring he kept in a box on our dresser. I hadn't remembered seeing the ring in a few years and she was just so put out by the accusation that she left immediately though the children and I loved her dearly. The next woman I got to help wasn't old enough or ugly enough so Ray started up with her. I wouldn't have given a hoot if they screwed all night long but this idiot thought screwing Ray meant I was going to pay her to come and rudely sit around my house drinking diet coke while I broke my back running the day care as though her screwing Ray was job security. Ray himself told her to get out. When he came home one night to find no dinner started, me out back retrieving a child for a parent and her in front of the TV, he blew up.

Then came the month we were behind in rent and I couldn't pull it together no matter how much I tried so we screwed that landlord and moved into the tiny two bedroom shack two blocks away that a man that Ray knew, named "Fester" owned. I couldn't keep fourteen kids there, it was too small. I fought with Ray tooth and nail over that with him insisting I had to keep them but I knew Ray would keep 100 kids on the property if I didn't put my foot down. It turned out I didn't have to. It was, embarrassingly enough, the parents of five of them that put a damper on the booming child care business. They took them out one by one, seemingly pissed that I had moved their children to that dump without a forewarning which, as I knew, would have been common courtesy. Then when I lost two more over the next few months, I just let it settle at five plus Ray2 and Eve. I had become a little wiser. No matter how broke I got, no matter how ambitious I got, I would just mentally recite what Ray2 had so innocently said one day, "We keep getting more kids but we don't ever have any money." If it was clear enough to a six year old it ought to be clear enough to me.

We were in Florida for a little over three years scraping the barrel to keep afloat the whole time. If I tried to get a handle on our income Ray got so ballistic that he crippled my ability to function. Whatever illegal activities he was supposed to be conducting to help frame the cartel didn't pay well and finally after four moves in the area, he decided it was time to get out of there. According to the papers, the FBI had caught a few mid-level vehicle traffickers and I believe they were all but finished with us. Ray went on about how we had to move to get out of the whole scheme the FBI had "tricked" him into. There were endless more Rayisms about how "he never"...and "they should have"...and "we need to do this for you and the kids, Pen" until one day, exhausted from working and Ray's relentless ranting I agreed and we packed up and headed for some new opportunity Ray said he had arranged in Utah.

### 31) July 2008, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

The summer of 2008 passed slowly and uneventfully. Ray2 and Eve and I slept in most days so Ray left in the mornings without incident. I had rotated to the 3 to 11 shift which was alright since the kids were out of school. Most evenings Ray2 was bagging groceries at Ralph's and if Eve didn't have soccer practice I asked her to go to Monica's house and hang out. I had told Monica that I couldn't go to work at the casino without worrying about leaving Eve without a place to hang out and she took it upon herself to chase Eve down, ignore her teen apathy and coax her into participating in some activity two or three nights a week. The two nights I was off I made Eve do something with me even if it was just scrapbooking or walking down to the lake. Ray2 joined us the evenings that he had off without fail. We were a unit again, bruised and evolved but comfortable together watching a movie, picking up groceries and cooking, or just hanging out.

The vacation had changed us. We were stronger. Somehow Ray felt it to. He was gone quite a bit that summer and I think it might have been because he sensed he had lost some of his power over us. When we did see him he was not his swarthy self; he was reserved and less invasive. The old Ray would have been over to Monica's house picking up Eve without warning, calling the manager at Ralphs with some emergency for Ray2, raking the landlord over the coals, driving by my work to make sure I was there or terrorizing the neighbors but oddly that behavior was absent that summer.

Eve and Ray2 both shot up a several inches; Ray2 might have even gained half a foot that summer. Eve looked older but Ray2 remained slim which made him look younger and more vulnerable. Although we got along well and found comfort in each other's company there was a sense of defeat in their demeanor that I hadn't perceived before. I wasn't sure what they might have given up on but they just didn't seem to ever reach the level of joy we had when they were younger. I didn't know if it was part of being a teenager and would go away or if it was part of growing up and there to stay. Was this what happened to all humans when they crossed the threshold into adulthood? Did we all lose the capacity for spontaneous joy, impetuousness and wonder? Watching it in my children, I would one moment think I was imagining things and the next think I could feel the death of a kind of inner spirit.

Though we spent time together they became more emotionally distant and I found some comfort in it. I was tired more than I used to be and wasn't inspired to coax our relationship any longer. I felt they were no longer looking to me for salvation which was a great relief. It allowed me to spend my thoughtful moments focusing on producing more books. I could write in my head and then when I got to a computer it would all come together very quickly. Having the time to have those creative, private thoughts without some impending disaster occupying every waking moment made my life so much more acceptable.

I was grateful for the peace and was able to put aside some of the anger that I felt toward Ray. I cooked after Ray left in the morning, before the kids woke up, and left the food in the fridge to be warmed for dinner whenever anyone wanted to help themselves. Between my job, cooking and cleaning, writing and spending time with my kids I was content. On one or two of the nights I was off, Ray stayed home and drank and smoked quietly in front of his computer or a game on the TV. He once asked me if I wanted to go to a show at the Cal/Neva but I sensed he was not disappointed when I turned him down.

It was a real sign of the times when I looked up from my seat in the stands one evening at one of Eve's practice games to see Ray quietly standing on the sidelines watching. It was too little too late but it struck me that if he had been like this even a few times in our lives everything might have turned out alright. I was so content that summer in the absence of conflict that I buried much of the burden I carried with me from the past and completely suppressed all of my less than honorable plans for the future. I just lived for the moment. That's what Ray2 said he hated about me; that I would just bury everything and go on, but I didn't know any other way to be then. Both he and Eve had told me that the reason I could go on as though nothing bad had ever happened was because I knew a time when things had been different. They said they had never had that luxury; that all they knew was an endless cycle of Ray's annoying calamitous turmoil. I just didn't see any point in anticipating some inevitable impending Armageddon when things were going so well...and as I thought that I watched a woman approach Ray from the next soccer field and stop and talk to him for a minute. He never turned back as he sauntered out of the park behind her.

### 32) December 2001, Emery County, Utah

Eve was released from the hospital just three days before Christmas. Those were three of the longest loneliest days in history. Up until then I had done well to conceal what I knew was missing from our Holiday celebrations; other people. That year we were so terribly alone in the big house with unrecognizable stuff that we didn't know what to do with ourselves. I tried all of the old standbys like baking cookies but I didn't have my Christmas cookie cutters so I had to fake it making circles and telling them they were ornaments we were decorating. I caused some of the unhappiness as I refused to ask Ray for money to go shopping and there wasn't anywhere to buy anything close anyway. I would have had to drive hours to get to any kind of mall and I just didn't have it in me. Usually I thought months ahead of time, building up to what I was going to get Ray2 and Eve for Christmas so that it was something special to them, not just something that cost money. I regretted my lack of forethought but knew that the way I had been shuffled around for the last forty five days, I wouldn't have been able to provide anything meaningful, even if I had thought about it.

There wasn't a single Christmas card since no one we knew knew where we were and I didn't have any friends left to speak of anyway. Ray had picked up some garbage and a pre-decorated fake tree. I called my mom and Madeline and Natalie but when that was done there was nothing. There was no such thing as Redbox or online Netflix and there wasn't a video store within a hundred miles so we were stuck watching the old classics to pass the time. We took a few walks around the neighborhood and swung on the park swings but the tennis rackets, basket balls, and soccer balls were gone, and with Eve too worn out to leave the house, it was just Ray2 and I and without her incessant talk, we found ourselves lost and disoriented. I had nothing to say to him that wasn't about disappointment so I kept quiet making it a mighty lonely prelude to what was supposed to be a celebration.

Eve did not make friends with the girl next door that Ray had told her about either. Not surprisingly, by the time we arrived, neither she nor her mother or father wanted to have anything to do with us beyond the very curt nod on the rare occasion that we saw them in the front yard. The only time they ever spoke to any of us was the day after we arrived. The woman asked Ray2 how long we were going to be there. He told her he didn't know but probably not long. As it was we lasted there almost a year before Ray got ants in his pants and we were off again.

Ray2 spoke the first harsh words I can recall to me in that house. I was complaining that I couldn't find a cheese grater in the kitchen drawer and that I wanted my own shit and Ray2 said, "Stop complaining. You are always complaining now. This is a nice house. You've been complaining about having a house that isn't in the ghetto so you got what you wanted and you are still complaining."

He was absolutely right and I told him so. It was a very nice house. I did not want to teach Ray2 to be a whiner or a complainer. I wanted to teach him to find the silver lining. That year I didn't think I could rise above the damage and disappointment. I was having a hard time straightening myself out. I made a commitment to myself that I would spend a week or two trying to self-correct and if I couldn't I would call Madeline and get the drug concoction she had sent to me when we moved to Panama City.

First, I practiced as Madeline had taught me, to separate real problems from the whole bag full we often claim when we are stressed. The loss of all of my personal belongings in an insurance scam Ray had executed was real damage. Piled on top of the disorientation from having just moved across the country, the sense of loss was valid. The anger and bitterness I felt at being expected to move into a premade house where Ray had taken ill-gotten gains and with the help of some random female fuck he was acquainted with, furnished a house that he expected me to be grateful for...uh...this was where things got sticky. Was this valid? Was it ok to fester and fume over the loss of all of my belongings in a scam so that Ray jump start a new life for us and get a quick influx of cash for living expenses?

While we were stranded, Ray had driven the U-Haul off what had to be the only 100 feet of roadway between the deserted house from hell and Salt Lake City where you could actually damage all of the goods in the U-Haul. He had miraculously purchased surplus insurance for our goods and photographed all of it – some of which I didn't even know we owned! All without my knowledge so all I had left in the world was what I had carried in the house the night we were so sick. I found out when he had to get my signature on the final insurance settlement that he had gotten almost eighty thousand. He seemed to think that his forethought in bringing my paint supplies inside when everyone was so sick meant he was "only thinking about me". It wouldn't surprise anyone to know that Ray2 told me a few years later that his father was screaming at him to get out of the way as he was reversing the U-Haul while Ray2 was trying to grab what he could.

This was definitely what would qualify as a big money scheme and Ray had had to do a lot of documentation in order to pull it off. It made me see him in a whole new light. He had planned so extensively, right down to dropping us off before he crashed the goods. Thank god we weren't expendable he could have made millions. I never had to answer to why we were not in the truck at the time of the accident and I am curious to this day what explanation he could have made for that. I don't know now because I told him that I never wanted to know anything at all about his conniving crap but that he had better stay the hell away from the insurance companies. Mess with the IRS, the mafia, and the south Columbian drug lords, just don't ever pull another insurance scam until we are legally and physically divorced by a decade or I'll turn you in myself. But that was just the kind of stuff Ray had us mixed up in 24/7.

As a side note, Ray cleverly continued lavishing Eve with gifts for as long as the money lasted. I would go so far as to say he bought her the best Christmas present ever that year. It was wise because I seriously contemplated killing him and the fact that Eve was content, for even a while delayed me.

### 33) August 2008, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

I had to get out to see my mom. I hadn't been to see her in a year which kept me ashamed of myself. I was living four hours from her and I had been delaying and delaying telling myself every excuse in the book of why I wasn't going to see her just so I didn't have to deal with Ray. He never wanted me going out of town and I was loathe to bring it up as I was enjoying the serenity and wanted to postpone the inevitable eruption. Ray was just beginning to show little signs of restlessness and I wanted to make the peace last as long as possible.

Every time in the past Ray had made it such a hassle that it was easier to comply and not go. As a result there had been several times that I had gone two years between visits just to keep peace. When I brought it up, and he knew I wouldn't give up on it, it would turn into an exhausting battle. Last year he and Eve and Ray2 and I all piled in the car, as was Ray's idea, and rode a painful four hours to see her. Ray got everyone out of bed at the crack of dawn, drove like a bat out of hell, complained, bitched, and yelled at the kids the whole ride and just as we pulled up he started in on how we were going to make this short so we could get back. At that point, I threw a fit, so then I was upset the whole time I was there. Of course two teenagers have no desire to visit an old woman that doesn't even know who they are so they were miserable as there wasn't even a carrot at the end of the road. The whole day was torture serving to provide exactly what Ray desired and that was a reminder never to do that again.

This time I was determined I was going alone. It seemed that would be the least calamitous. There would be an event when I left but for the twelve or fifteen hours I was gone, at least I would be at peace. I made plans a week ahead of time for Ray2 and Eve. I didn't want to have to worry about them running into Ray at home. Ray2 and Eve both offered that they would be happy to drive down with me if Ray wasn't going but I nixed that idea. That would cause a bigger commotion and possibly cause Ray to do something catastrophic that might have been avoided. Whatever resulted, I would bear the guilt of causing it, not Ray.

I didn't tell him I was going ahead of time. After twenty years I had learned to reduce the drama to the lowest level possible and where there wasn't time or warning, there was a limit to the range of collateral damage Ray could inflict. Ray2 was staying at a friend's house and he wasn't working that night so I knew Ray wouldn't find him at Ralphs and possibly cause him to lose his job. I decided to ask Eve to stay at another friend's house as I was getting worried about how much I might be jeopardizing Monica's good intentions by making her a regular stand in. Ray had been over to her house a number of times either looking for Eve, looking for Eve to look for me, or picking up Eve, always professing some crisis existed. It was just a matter of time before Ray saw her too many times looking too complacent that he tore up that one support that we had. Better I cool our relationship myself and just chalk it up for what it was; good while it lasted.

I woke up at seven AM. Eve was still asleep and Ray2 was at his friend's house. Ray was up helping himself to coffee before he left for what I called his imaginary job. He put on that he was working at a car lot out on hwy 50 but I could tell from his actions that they probably rarely saw him. He was surprised to see me up as I was sleeping in lately because I got home late from the swing shift. He turned as he poured his coffee and leaned casually up against the stove. His eyes were red ringed and I was surprised to notice he was in need of a haircut. Ray was pretty fastidious about his appearance. He wasn't quite as narrow around the waist as he used to be either. Back when we were living in Utah he had gone off on a health binge, dropped down to 180 and gotten obsessed with his fat to body weight ratio. That was then and now I guessed he was probably somewhere around 220. I hadn't bothered to look at him in so long that it surprised me to notice he was looking a little worn around the edges. I had only looked at myself as having suffered the signs of the hard life we had been living but now I noticed some of that reflected on Ray too. The first thought that came to me was about how I was going to have to work on helping him pull himself together before he became so ruined I couldn't pawn him off.

I put those thoughts out of my head as he reached for me asking if I was up to get a little lovin' before the day started. "No, Ray, get away from me. I am going to see my mother."

He just looked at me for a few minutes, sort of expressionless. I thought, gosh, he must really be off his game. His normally piercing gaze didn't seem to have the intensity I was accustomed to. His once luminous eyes looked dark and dull. He just looked blank.

"What did you say?"

Oh, I thought, that was what it was; he was buying time to think. Maybe he was on something. He came toward me and started pawing at me. "Stop it Ray. I've got to get going. It's going to be a long day."

"Wait a minute. You aren't serious. You aren't talking about going to see your mother right now."

"Of course I am. I have tonight off. The kids have their own thing going on and I haven't gone in a year. I am going now."

"Well I wish you had given me some notice but if you are hell bent on going, give me about an hour. I'll go with you."

"That is not happening Ray. Last year I listened to you bitch in the car for four hours and then you wanted to leave as soon as we got there. I'm not doing that again."

"Now wait a minute, Penelope. I don't know what you are talking about. I drove you down there last year and Eve was a little bitch as she has always been and Ray2 had his ass on his shoulders but I was just trying to keep things together. Everybody was tired and I wanted to make sure we got back before everyone's nerves unraveled. How long to you need to visit somebody that doesn't even know you are there anyway?"

"Listen Ray, I am not going to engage with you on this. You are not going. I'll be back by midnight. All you have to do is get yourself something to eat."

"I'm not worried about eating Pen; I can figure that out for myself. I don't want you driving down there alone."

"I'm fine Ray. I want to go alone. Ray2 and Eve both offered to go with me. I said no. I want to go alone."

"Oh, so you told Ray2 and Eve but you didn't tell me. How long have you known about this trip? Is it too much to ask that you tell me your plans? That car is old. It hasn't been serviced. I don't want you driving it 1000 miles until I have it checked out. Wait a day or two. I'll take it in, get it serviced and then we'll go together."

"Stop it Ray. Get out of my way. For crying out loud, I am forty three years old. Can I get up and decide to go somewhere without your permission? If not when can I get up and decide to go somewhere? Get out of my way."

He knocked me on the bed as I tried to get to the bathroom to shower. It wasn't a hit or anything but more like a shove and show of power. He then kind of laid on me and started talking right in my face. "I don't want you to go. I worry about you on the road alone. Why didn't you tell me? You like getting me riled up"

I just laid there with my face turned away from him without moving. "Ray, let me up."

He started kissing on me and I tried to turn my shoulder into his chest. "Stop it, now Ray." I said.

"Come on. I haven't touched you in weeks. What's the matter with you?" all the while pawing me and trying to dig his knee between my legs and breathing hot breath on my neck.

"Ray for crying out loud, you stink like alcohol and cigarettes. GET OFF OF ME."

"Fine, you bitch but I've got to talk to you" and just like that he was sitting up running his hands through his hair.

"What is it? Can it not wait? I am trying to get out of here."

"Well if you had told me you were leaving I would have talked to you sooner but it puts me in a bind when you are so secretive and don't tell me what you are doing."

"What is it then, Ray, damn it, just spit it out."

"How much are you taking home from the casino?"

"What do you mean? You know how much I take home. I give you 2000 every pay check.

"Yeah, well, I'm running a little short and I need to know how much you are getting next week".

"I'm getting 2950 as always."

"I need the whole thing."

"What am I going to use for groceries and gas?"

"I'll get you something later but right now I need the whole check when you get it."

"That's crazy Ray. I'm going to give you the grocery money and then I'm going to have to go back to you to get grocery money? I'm not going to do that. It's a waste of time. Then you will issue every trip to the grocery store and make it twice as much work just to get some god damn groceries on the table."

"Pen it's not an option. You want to keep living here? You want to keep eating? You want soccer sign up fees and internet? Then I am going to need the whole thing."

"Ray, use a credit card. I haven't got the time for this."

"You never have time for anything but your own personal agenda. You make it to work, you make it to Eve's games, you make it to church, you've got your fucking little yoga group, what is that costing us? You'll make god damn time when the electricity is cut off. Fine, have it your way. You'll see."

I thought about it while I showered. That "you'll see" was ominous. How did he do this? I was practically hyperventilating. Was the fucking electricity going to be cut off while I was in San Rafael? I refused to ask which I knew in all likelihood meant that the house of cards would fall but I was done propping it up.

When I got out of the shower, the whole time I was getting ready, Ray pretty much stayed on my heals. He went through every household bill, explanations about how bad the used car business had been lately, about how he had held everything together as long as he could because "I never wanted to be bothered with anything" but that we were over extended and how if I didn't step up and pay attention and contribute, we were going to be two months behind instead of one month behind on the rent.

I had no idea we were five minutes behind on the rent let alone a month. I couldn't believe we were going to screw yet another landlord. I had been so stingy for years just to not hear this; just to not have to move; just to not screw another landlord. I had no idea how two adults who didn't have shit couldn't afford to feed, clothe and house themselves. It never ceased to amaze me. How did we go from excess money buying computers and cell phones for Christmas to "can't pay the rent" eight months later?

"Pen, I know you're picking up some tips at work. You keep your own endless stream of discretionary income separate from the rest of us so you can buy what you want, when you want, but we've got bills to pay."

"Ray for god's sake...I am a cashier. You don't want me out on the floor. You won't let me get a job that pays big tips. I might get a twenty once or twice a week if someone wins big but 99.9 percent of the time the people that come to see me are out of cash and digging further into their pockets. THEY DON'T TIP. You now want me to come home and lay the occasional twenty I get on you? You bet we will talk about this. I am looking forward to it. Tomorrow. Right now I am leaving."

Boy did it feel good to get in my car and drive away, south on 50, by myself.

### 34) 2002, Emery County, Utah

Mostly what I remember about our time in Utah was how vacant I felt from the loss of all of our personal possessions. I felt as though I had lost my identity and the record of my past. It used to be that I would know who I was, know where I had been and know and remember what had happened when memories were triggered by something familiar. The little concrete things we hold, that we all take for granted, frame the stories and chapters of our existence. Losing everything I owned had broken of all that. You might be able to withstand the impact if you had a familiar routine or a history with your surroundings. Those too could trigger and frame an account of your existence. I had none of that. All I had was Ray2 and Eve and the given moment we were living in. I had given up on thoughts of finishing my degree and so spent the days finding purpose in minding my children and mapping simple daily routines for survival. We really were isolated in Corbin. It was a one street town with the one subdivision started and absolutely no opportunities for outsiders. It might have been possible to scrape a living out of opening a small shop on the one street in town but our lifestyle didn't allow me to commit to anything like that.

The only thing I could come up with to give myself purpose was to print off business cards and go from door to door to the few businesses they had started there to try and get some bookkeeping work but in the end all it ever amounted to was a few hours a week of work.

At that time, when I wasn't inspired to paint, or to start up a sculpture, didn't have a house that was really mine for which to sew quilts or curtains that I turned to writing again. I really thought about the market, what might produce income and how I could use what I knew as a tool. Although I was physically there beside Ray2 and Eve I didn't feel I was a fully functioning parent and Ray was not only equivalent to NO parent he actually did so much damage he was worse than NO parent. It gave me inspiration to write about a couple of children who were surviving without parents; actually empowered by the absence of parents to overcome insurmountable obstacles. It would give me a make believe world to live in, one in which every time my children were intimidated, ridiculed, shamed, criticized, or derided I would write them out of it in a way I never could in real life.

Writing was good for me. It made me a better person. In the breaks between writing and thinking about what I would write, I was happy and it was good for everyone. Ray2 and Eve were much relieved to feel me content at times and it worked out well for Ray. He was in hog heaven when I was living like a mushroom without a visible project diverting my attention from him and without outside influence; he was satisfied I was properly contained.

Ray thankfully went out of town regularly which was a joy for all. I thought from the insurance claim and the work he was doing that we should be able to coast for a year or two but I didn't know then that the IRS had caught up with Ray and was chasing him down for unpaid sales and payroll taxes from back when he was working at Carson's Cars. They were looking to show criminal intent if he didn't get a payback plan in action immediately and the accountants and lawyers Ray was frequenting then took quite a bite out of the insurance settlement. It wasn't long before I would have to come out of my make believe writing world and get back to work so when Ray found an opportunity selling condos in Salt Lake City, and we were going to move again, I made plans to use my education and actively seek an accounting position that paid some serious money.

### 35) October 2008, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

Fall finally arrived. It was the fifth summer we had spent in Lake Tahoe and the longest we had ever spent anywhere. It was so unusual to us that it seemed as though we were repeating the year before in a cycle of some kind. If we hadn't had the looming bankruptcy proceedings pending, if Ray didn't rant and rave about the bills and every tank of gas and carton of milk we bought, if we hadn't shafted yet another landlord and needed to move because we were behind in rent again, I would have felt as though we were any other ordinary middle class family.

The change from summer to fall was marked by a rapid cooling of the air temperature. The leaves and dust on the ground spun and then settled, then spun and then settled, as though they were trying to muster up the force that would be needed to bring the snowy winter. The clouds sporadically interrupted the blue sky, blocking the heat from the sun and it seemed, breaking the last threads of a connection that this life had to our warm summer vacation.

I didn't hear from Cindy or Madeline. Dawn emailed me every week or so but when I neglected to respond for a few weeks even that died off. I felt bad that I made no effort to maintain a friendship but she just wasn't interesting to me.

And then, a week before Thanksgiving, when the whole community was poised in wait for reports of the first predictions of snow, Cindy called. Her voice was so free of guile, so welcome and so wholesome that I thought I might have wanted to sleep with her myself if I had ever had any tendency toward that, which I hadn't.

Pleased as I was to hear the sound of her voice on my messages, I did not call her back. I had enough trouble dealing with everything I had going on already. I had spent four weeks tracing every dollar we had ever spent with Ray alternately drinking, sobering up, crying and begging and then drinking and sobering up again, until I finally agreed to sign the papers that would start bankruptcy proceedings.

Ray entire income for the last three years amounted to $22, 648. It took a while to reconcile the mess of side deals he had going on. Besides bad purchases for cars that he then turned around and often sold at a loss, he had purchased a catering truck that then ended up having to be entirely scrapped. There was a purchase of seafood from the Gulf of Mexico that went bad waiting to clear some agency regulation. Each and every investment seemed irrational and full of holes. A lot of it was probably bullshit but I had spent four weeks combing through it and it would have taken ten years to ever get to the bottom of it. It was time to cut our losses. Plus, this meant I would have to take over the bills which would mean a war. I reconciled myself with thoughts of certainty that this life as I knew it was coming to an end anyway. Ray was a nightmare but me responsible for Ray? It couldn't be done.

Even with all of the financial dramas, the five years we had had in Tahoe were the closest Ray2 and Eve had ever had to stability if for no other reason than regularity. Maybe it was regular chaos but it was familiar and I couldn't consider adding another element to the mix without jeopardizing the continuity. That in a nut shell was what had prevented me from doing anything with my life; the fear of igniting an already volatile situation by making any small move. Above all I valued peace. It was also what made me listen to Cindy's message one last time and then finally, delete it.

### 36) 2002, Emery County to Salt Lake City, Utah

When we left tinsel town which is what I called that strange subdivision in the middle of nowhere, I was ready. It was without a single trace of regret that I sold the furniture, the linens, the kitchen utensils, the garage tools and the decorations Ray had so brazenly substituted for our own. We lived quite sparingly and rather nomadically for the next few years and I learned not to expect a life any different from the one I had. It made things easier for all of us. We were never at odds with Ray that way. He could throw fits, no one would see but us. He could screw people right and left, there wasn't anyone to judge him. He could move us from one side of town to the other. We just packed up and moved. Ray2 and Eve very rarely found a friend to hang out with at school and once or twice they would go stay over for the night but they never developed into any lasting friendships as they were in and out of different school districts every semester.

When we moved to Salt Lake City, I got a job at "Brown, Brown and Associates" as an accountant. I started at 32k which was pretty good for what was really a beginning bookkeeping position. I was nervous about my new job, nervous for my kids to be happy and I was really trying to make a go of it. I felt I had not done a very good job the last five years or so, being a positive person and role model, so I turned off the whole victim scenario and moved to make some progress toward more positive, healthy outlook on life. I know now that Ray could see how important it was to me that I turn our lives around and that was what gave him fuel.

The hours of my new job were 8 to 5 and I started each day trying to get there by about 7:40 so I could spend the last twenty minutes of the day making sure I could be out of there by 5:00. On my way home I picked up Ray2 and Eve from after school care. If Ray wasn't out of town he was standing, pacing the living room, greeting me with a "Where have you been"? or "What took you so long?" If I stopped for gas or milk, to pay a bill or got caught in traffic, I had to explain. I didn't dare have a conversation with a checker or bank teller or gas attendant because it would lead to a question and answer session with Ray every time. I avoided talking on the phone because he would question me about everything I said, suggesting there was something untoward or inappropriate about every move I made or every conversation I had. He started about that time, asking me about my co-workers, making off-color remarks about getting coffee for my boss, suggesting what might be asked of me outside my job description and questioning what "additional" services I might be providing for my paycheck. I was always spending a little too long talking to a neighbor, taking too long at the grocery store or "wandering off" as Ray put it.

Though I suppose it was really always present, that incessant need to control, and chip at everything I did, it had never been so acute. I had spent four years working from home in Florida and when we moved to south Utah I had spent six months fumbling around looking for work. After keeping my head buried for so many years what with all of the moves and chaos, when we moved to Salt Lake City and I tried to reestablish myself as a working wife and mother, Ray couldn't contain himself.

I tried laying the law down, a dozen times. The more I tried to stop him the worse it got. He'd go three weeks without sleep. He would show up at my job. He would pick up Eve and Ray2 from after school care unexpectedly and then take them somewhere and not show up until 10 o'clock at night. He cancelled my bank card and I believe he syphoned the gas from my car once.

It would take more time than I have left in this life to list all of the little tricks Ray pulled, all of the little innuendos he made, all of the obstacles he placed in my path while I was working at Brown. He called there so much and went in there so many times that they let me go, at the height of the tax season, which is unheard of.

J.J. Brown, Mormon and senior officer of the corporation called me into his office. Without a single sign of regret or sympathy he canned me. His exact words were "Miss St. Claire, you have problems. We have been in business for 80 years and for all of the years I have been here I have never seen a junior accountant cause such a profound disruption to the functioning of this organization and I simply can't allow it to continue."

I didn't respond. I just stood and left. As I was opening the door I heard him calling Helen and ask her to go through my files and make sure everything was in order before I was escorted out.

I went straight home to give myself some time to think before I picked up Ray2 or Eve. I pretty much knew Ray wouldn't be there because he orchestrated everything to make sure he was waiting on me when I got home at my usual hour. It was then, when I had my afternoon to myself that I determined it was time; I had to get away from Ray. I sat for two hours rehearsing what I would say and as I predicted Ray came in the door at 5:20 just ten minutes before he would have expected me to be home. I thought he must work awfully fast every day to get himself into the frenzy he appeared to be in over "waiting" for me.

I told him I wasn't happy and that I knew he had plenty on the side to keep him busy so could we just part ways? It was the biggest mistake I ever made in my entire relationship with Ray either before or since. He flipped out in such a way that I would never, never jeopardize my life or my children's lives over that, ever again.

Reading back over this now I realize I have not properly portrayed what life was like with Ray. I conveniently wrote him out of our lives as I tried to do as I was living it. Whether Ray was there or not he was always present. Ray had to have the clothes washed a certain way, the food prepared a certain way, the air conditioner set at a particular temperature, and the windows open or shut to a particular degree. Ray had an opinion about what we wore, what we ate, how we ate it, where we went, when we went and how we went. Ray monitored our mail, our phone calls, our computer use, who we knew and even what we thought. I had tried for years to distance myself from him mentally and it hadn't worked. I needed a way, somehow to leave him. It was going to take some work to accomplish it but I knew with certainty our sanity depended on it, if not our lives.

### 37) December 2008, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

The first Christmas Ray and I spent together I strung Christmas cards on a piece of raffia across two six foot windows in our living room. There must have been close to a hundred of them. I remember I didn't hang the ugly ones nor did I hang the ones from our lawn service, the building maintenance company, my insurance company or dentist. The ones I hung were from friends, family and coworkers, past and present, far and wide; a warm reminder of all those lives I had touch and those that had touched mine.

Another Christmas was approaching and this year we got three cards. One, Eve got from the lady whose dog she walked. One was from my sister Natalie and one was sent to our house addressed to the prior occupants and I had opened it by accident. On top of that Ray was in a tizzy, ranting daily, I guess knowing I wouldn't go without a tree or something, no matter how small, under it for my kids. He couldn't stand to see that I had compartmentalized the financial problems and was keeping the rest of our lives moving with some semblance of calm and regularity. He would obsess with bringing up the bankruptcy, our debts, our bills, what we spent, what we were going to spend, how much I made, how he was having to pull it all together himself. He said the most ridiculous things. It was hard not to respond and although I did slip up every now and then, I bit my tongue for the most part.

It was as if the three months of relatively complacency that summer had provided a rest up for the battle charge. He had himself a good excuse what with the bankruptcy and all so he stayed on me night and day without letting up. I fought to keep the three of us insulated from his imposing fits and the influence they would have on our psyches. I switched to the graveyard shift as soon as I could after the kid's started back to school in the fall. It allowed me to monitor Ray in the evenings and hopefully get the kid's to bed without event. Little things started happening at first, signs I recognized such as the oversized glass filled with ice and some unidentifiable alcoholic drink, always full, always carried around the house; the sarcastic attitude, the biting comments, the constant restlessness, always moving from one room to another, in and out of the house all night long hurling us into heightened state of anxiety.

I had caught him a few times when he had had quite a bit to drink, getting in Ray2's personal space but once I had seen it I just doubled my efforts to put him in check. If I was gone somewhere I had a standing order for Ray2 and Eve to stay in their rooms or call Monica or her daughter to come over and ask for them. Any surprise witnesses would put a temporary check on Ray's behavior and get Ray2 or Eve safe passage out. Ray2 balked about the confinement and soon discovered a good method of leaving via climbing on the roof from his bedroom window and shimmying down a tree. He always texted me to let me know he was leaving and when he would be back so I found it a good system. As winter set upon us and Eve got older, I supposed she was doing the same because when she texted me to tell me she was going out I knew she was smart enough not to pass in her father's path.

My only solace was work since he could only get so close to me there before would be forced to back off. Back when I started work at the Sahara, when we were living in Las Vegas, I discovered what a boon working at a casino could be. I was in the cage one night, counting cash before my break when a security agent came in and asked if he could have a word with me. I said, "sure", finished counting my cash and followed him out of the money pit and down the hall where he stopped outside of an office and unlocked it and opened the door for me to enter before him. I didn't feel comfortable at all. I had thought he was going to bring some additional security precautions to my attention but this wouldn't be done alone in an office with him. I turned immediately and asked what was going on. He started to shut the door behind him and I asked him to leave it open. He asked me to have a seat and I sat opposite him at the metal table where he opened a manila envelope and pulled out about ten of what looked to be Xerox copies of 8 x 10 photographs.

They were still photos of video surveillance tapes that had been shot in the parking lot at the casino. They were all photos of Ray trolling through the lot. I looked down at the photos as he spoke. He said he and the other agents originally felt sorry for him. They thought I must have been giving him a lot of grief in order for him to be checking on me so often but after they checked my personnel records and saw I had never been late or absent from work they began to suspect the problem was him – not me.

Two of the shots were of Ray entering the casino and six of them had him in different cars, usually smoking, and usually at a stand-still. You could see my car in a few. The others were taken from an angle where they were facing Ray who was probably checking out my car.

One was of him feeling the hood of my car probably trying to gage how long it had been parked. It was sick. By that time Ray2 was 3 and Eve was about to have her 1st birthday. It was all I could take. I did take my first sick leave day after that. I took two as a matter of fact. I took Ray2 and Eve and drove to my mother's house. That gave me about five minutes of relief before I was reminded of why I had been so hell bent to get out of there in the first place.

To top it off, Ray started knocking on the door, harassing us, just eight hours after I got there. I was only there one night before I drove home just to shut him up. I talked to him - no yelled at him - about the pictures over and over again but since I didn't have them in my possession he kept on minimizing their importance. I could have gotten them from the security agent but I didn't want to touch them. They were so sick they were like explicit pornographic shots to me.

Two years later, when I gave notice and was reluctantly moving to Panama City that same security agent came to see me one more time. He said he didn't have any photos but he did want me to know that it wasn't my regular work schedule that prompted the guards to unanimously decide to show me Ray's photos. It was the slew of other photos they hadn't shown me. The one's where Ray had a woman with him. He said those were far more abundant. I remember thanking him and realizing he was puzzled as to why the news had absolutely no effect on me. I was busy with much more life altering issues than anything as mundane as Ray's extra marital sex life.

Ray never liked being photographed. I only ever had one picture of him and it was from a distance. Every nook and cranny in and around a casino is video-taped with time stamps. And they do not tape over them or toss them. They keep those records for friggin' ever. And contrary to what Hollywood would have you believe; no one has ever or will ever break into a casino. They are better protected than Fort Knox. Armed with the knowledge that there would be evidence of his every move, I was pretty sure the frequency of Ray's midnight visits to the casinos where I worked would be put in permanent check.

When Ray woke me that winter, day in and day out, keeping me in a constant state of sleep deprivation, upset about one thing or another so that I couldn't find peace, it was the knowledge that I could go to work and have some small wall of protection from him that allowed me to keep my sanity through the relentless repetitive barrage of attacks on my sanity.

What I did do a few times when he woke me and it lead into a full on war after which I could not settle down, I would hit the bottle. Much as I would have liked to, I couldn't call Madeline for more pills. I didn't want to answer to her so I just traded one crutch for another. It was in a drunken state of stupor, exhausted out of my mind one night that I started texting Cindy.

### 38) 2003, Salt Lake City, Utah to Reno, NV

Ray got in trouble for selling real estate without a license. There was some talk at the beginning of his intention to get a licenses but I thought it was a load of crap when I heard it. While they waited for him to supposedly get this license, they had this arrangement where though he would have every conversation in the world with the client, he wouldn't quote prices or complete transactions. For once Ray might not have been doing anything entirely illegal but because he and his broker buddy and the guy's two associates were turning over so many properties, the competing agents wanted to cripple the competition so they reported that Ray was selling real estate. The broker was investigated and everyone stuck to their guns saying Ray was just administrative help but it scared the broker off just enough to cool the deal. It was all Ray needed to prompt another move and I had no objections since I was still reeling from getting fired at Brown. Salt Lake City wasn't a wonderful place for Ray2 and Eve to go to school anyway, since they weren't Mormon they were second class citizens and couldn't quite ever fit in.

They were hiring dealers at a casino in Reno, Nevada so Ray went to training, four days a week while I licked my wounds, wrote and thought much about what life would be like without him. For some reason I was ashamed of myself and couldn't quite pull myself together enough to look seriously for employment. The second week into training Ray came back saying he could get me a job working in the cage at the same casino so we packed up and moved to Reno. I couldn't get out of that duplex fast enough. I guess since he got me the job, it was ok with him for me to have it. I was happy with the prospect either way and as it turned out, we rarely crossed paths or schedules at work anyway.

The casino was way too controlled of an environment for Ray. He had to clock in at a given time and was watched like a hawk, night and day by the plethora of security cameras that run in all casinos, at all times. He was constantly reprimanded for what I can only categorize as "creative" behavior while on the job. He was way too flamboyant, way too talkative and soon the constant monitoring got too much for him and his true colors began to show. It was just five months before Ray got to looking for greener pastures and found a financier that he was able to talk into starting a second car lot in South Lake Tahoe.

I remember I liked the idea. I don't even know why now. I just remember that move, that time, seemed right. I remember packing up our stuff and Ray2 and Eve being confused as to why I was not wound up. Not that they would have expected ranting and raving but they would have expected that I would have been removed or mentally checked out and I wasn't. I was uncharacteristically relaxed and communicative and sociable. I remember having a feeling of satisfaction as I looked toward the future.

I imagined the well-worn ex-hippies and over the hill bikers would be a good deal more forgiving of Ray's hellish persona than the Mormons in Utah had been. In addition, this go around Ray was on his best behavior. He had broken all boundaries and threatened my world so thoroughly when I told him I wanted a separation that he was now trying to compensate. It was a message. If I behaved, everything would be just peachy keen.

Ray went two weeks before we moved and secured a place to rent; not one of the ones we found on line for him to look at but an entirely different one. He put on that he was deeply hurt that we wouldn't all pile in the car and go down with him but we had all been bitten by that bug too many times by then and like I said, he had shown us what he was capable of, back in Salt Lake. If it was possible to avoid it, none of us would be voluntarily getting in the car with Ray ever again.

As it turned out, since we were all so wary and cynical, Ray jumped through a hoop to rent a place that would allow him to redeem himself. It was too big and too expensive and I knew we would be out of there before the year was up. It didn't bother me because knowing what would happen and not expecting or hoping for anything different gave me a sense of security I hadn't had before.

Driving south on the east shore of the lake to our new home with the sun sparkling off the water, I felt good; slightly damaged but good. I loved the smell of the pines, the mountain scenery, the dry air, and the sparkle off the lake. I had a written recommendation from my boss at Harrahs in Reno and an interview for a job in two days. I would have the same job in the same company. It seemed like a presage of fortune. For the first time, we were moving at the beginning of the summer where Ray2 and Eve wouldn't just wake up one day and be thrown into a new classroom, mid-stream. They would have the whole summer to acclimate and maybe find a few friends.

By the time we arrived in Tahoe in June of 2004, Ray and I had moved 15 times; almost once a year. Eve and Ray2 were 10 and 12. They had been with us through eleven of those moves. And though we ended up moving three more times in the next five years, Ray2 and Eve remained in the same school district through all the moves. I can look back and realize I gained a sense of security and peace during that time which was fortified by the idea that remained in my mind since the thought had crossed it back in Salt Lake City, that I might someday live without Ray.

### 39) February 2009, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

This was so daring. I hadn't had a friend in forever. Ray wouldn't have it but somehow with Cindy it was different. She was so confident it was infectious. It made me feel invincible.

One night, when Ray had started drinking early and I didn't think he would risk driving around the lake to harass me at work, I called Cindy and made plans to meet her for drinks. I didn't tell her Ray didn't know that I was meeting her. When our arrangements were made, I called in sick and took off from home at my regular work hour and went to meet Cindy instead.

We met at a small rather rough bar called "The Roundup" on the east side of Incline. It was not a place I would have expected Cindy to choose. It was a serious drinking establishment that offered a menu that wasn't used very often. To its credit the drinks were stiff, reasonably priced for the area and the service was excellent which accounted for the steady crowd of local male customers. I supposed that might have been one reason the place attracted Cindy. I would have been happier choosing a place where we wouldn't have attracted so much attention but I was following her lead. I hadn't been out without Ray in close to twenty years and I wasn't so sure of myself that I could dictate where we went. Hell I hadn't even been to a bar in ten years other than to walk by the one in the casino where I worked and the annual trips to the Cal/Neva for our anniversary.

We had so much fun. The bar was set up so that they had games all over the room. You could play dice at the counter, shoot darts at the dart boards to the left, play pool at one of the two tables to the far right or dance on the small wood floor in the center. Besides Cindy and I there were two other women there the whole night and a few others who came and left. There was an odd kind of fraternity to the place where the staff and regulars determined whether you were included or not. I noticed a few times women came and ordered drinks and sat at the tables, were treated courteously enough but never approached. They eventually left after one or two drinks, not because it wasn't' a fun place but more because the fun seemed to be going on all around them and they weren't part of it.

I felt that without Cindy, I would have been one of those other women, on the outside looking in as I had done most of my life but that night I was at the top of the heap. We played and drank and danced for three hours before the bar closed for good and we were standing by our cars in the parking lot not wanting for the night to end.

Going to the bar, skipping work to meet Cindy, and then spending the whole night at her house had been such an adventure that I was delirious over it. I was so happy for so long. It had almost as much of an effect on me as the vacation had since I didn't have Eve and Ray2's resentment to deal with. I had been on my own; truly on my own again for the first time in twenty years. Ray hated to see me so content and I was incapable of concealing it. My happiness was infectious though, I could tell it pleased Ray2. Oddly it made Eve bolder and less tolerant of her father as though with my happiness and her aggression we could jointly drive him from our lives. I don't know if I am just laying unnecessary blame on myself when Ray is not here to do it for me but I can't help but believe the combination of the changes in the three of us probably contributed to the particularly vicious undercurrent that seemed present in the next cycle of his fits.

### 40) March 2009, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

Cindy didn't need to call me or email me twice a week. She wasn't a needy person. In fact she texted me the night after we met, one line that said "I had a great time" and I didn't hear another word from her for almost five weeks when she texted me again, "want to meet for drinks?"

I didn't text her back. I just checked the message several times a day. Somehow reading it gave me comfort. I had been on edge for weeks. On the one hand I was treading on ice being very careful not to do anything to feed Ray's fury and on the other I was getting weary of the hypertension and looking for a way out. For the last week Ray2 was staying at a friend's house and neither he nor I were making any moves to call him home. It was pretty much the end of an era for me when I thought I would not be calling my own child home. I could take almost anything Ray could dish out but when it touched my kids, I wanted to kill him.

Ray could stay up drinking all night long when he was taking steroids and he wasn't a quiet, solitary drunk. He had a history of spending a few hours after work getting tanked up and then carousing around looking for female companionship or trouble while we prayed he would either find it or the law would catch up with him but these last months he came home every night. We never caught a break. He would spend each evening in a menacing intimidating posture, moving from room to room and around the yard making sly insinuating accusations to each of us in turn. When the air of threat was at its peak and we were all exhausted from the tension, waiting for the explosion that we knew would come; he would break, become penitent and beg for forgiveness. Then once that was done, the tension would build again day by day and the cycle would continue vacillating between fits of fury and remorse. He could feel me withdrawing, disgusted by his behavior and would cry and beg my forgiveness, beg me to love him, beg me to promise to stand by him, all the while explaining away everything he had ever done, exonerating himself of any wrong doing. Then, after hours upon hours of this, I would sleep, go to work, and it would start all over again. I couldn't go on like this, twenty four hours a day for weeks on end. The inevitability of a dark and oppressive future kept me from texting Cindy back. I was convinced I couldn't be happy.

And then one morning after a particularly bad night where I had ended up hiding in Eve's room, I was standing at the dryer in the garage folding a freshly cleaned batch of towels. I had only gotten about an hours sleep and was exhausted but smiling as I remembered the funny texts we had been sending back and forth to Ray2 all night. The sun moved so a ray of light came through the window, shining across me, warming me and bringing thoughts of spring. I took out my phone to bring back up the texts and saw the one from Cindy that was almost a month old. I texted her back, "I'd love to".

This time I had to be more careful. Ray was circling me like a pack of wolves circles its prey. He was looking for a point of attack and I wasn't going to show him any weakness. One morning when he thought I was asleep and he got in his car to go get cigarettes, I jumped out of bed to check his drug stash. He had damn cornucopia of prescription drugs. I didn't know what most of them were but I knew I could eliminate any of the ones that ended in "sone". I wasn't looking for steroids. Then I eliminated the ones that said things like "take three a day" or take after meals. I was looking for something that said "take one or two before bed". There was a prescription for "Latisse"; a brand new product that was just hitting the market for lengthening eyelashes. What in the hell was up with that? Ray had the longest eyelashes on the planet. What a vain fag. I guess he was just shoring up his bets. Plus he had a friggin' bottle of "generic for Viagra" prescription. God damn that son of a bitch. Who was the retard that had given him that and what in the hell was he doing; trying to get a 24 hour hard on? Ray had been warned about "off the chart" testosterone levels and here he was getting Viagra. What an asshole. I had to fight him every day and beat him off with a stick and here he was exacerbating the god damn situation...and while I was cussing and cursing him I found what I was looking for; "generic for Ambien".

There was no way I was going to risk Ray following me or somehow finding where I was going and catching me there. Years ago, in the beginning I would have told him. And then after harassing me up until the moment I left and making me late and anxious to the point of regret, he would later show up, anywhere I had told him I was going to be, and then create some commotion that ruined the whole night. It was a different act every time that ended with the same results. I was to not have friends, not go out and most of all, more than anything, not spend a moment without Ray, first and foremost on my mind.

The bottle was about half full of tiny little white tablets. I tipped it and poured about a dozen out in my hand. I didn't want to have to find these twice and I might want them some other time so I grabbed what I thought he wouldn't notice, returned the bottle and frantically looked for a place to store them. The store was only a few blocks away and he was due back immediately. I put the pills inside a hidden pocket of a parka in the back of my closet and jumped back in bed. I was breathing hard and thinking I wouldn't fool Ray. He was pretty smart and would be able to know in an instant that I wasn't asleep. I laid there breathing heavily for quite a while, still not hearing him come in. He must have gone somewhere else.

I fell asleep laying on my side with my knees pulled up and my cell phone cradled in my hands. It vibrated about two hours later.

### 41) February, 2009, Lake Tahoe

Seeing Cindy again was such a high. I felt as though all of my pent up anger and frustration didn't exist when I was with her – really in anticipation of seeing her and then for weeks afterward as well. I don't know if the outings were all the more adventuresome because they were clandestine or if it was just the idea that there wasn't any impending doom associated with our dates. When I use to go out with Ray there was always the concern he would get angry, get drunk, hurt somebody, or get us in trouble. None of those fears were present when I partied with Cindy. I wasn't even as worried as I might have been about Ray finding out I was sneaking out because in the back of my mind I had this idea that I didn't have to worry about hiding this forever because things were going to change. I never stopped thinking subliminally about that night that we so carelessly conversed about her ensnaring my husband as her next "conquest" in her endeavors to find a new man.

The problem was that I couldn't bring it up again. The two times I had thrown it out there, she had dismissed it quickly as though it wasn't a viable option and I was sure she had been irritated by what I had considered casual reference to it. It was therefore only a few hours into my second night out with her that the project came to a standstill.

Cindy had wanted to meet at Harrahs. I told her there was no friggin' way I was partying where I worked. She still went on about it for a few more tries but when I didn't respond further she said she would be picking me up but to just give her a few days to decide where that would be since I had "killed her idea." I gave her three more quick options hoping to keep down the interaction before the event but she said, "Just let me text you."

I called in sick to work and after seeing to it that Ray was sleeping like a baby; I left the house at what would be my regular work hour and drove my car to Incline Village. I parked and waited for Cindy. She showed up in a limo and we rode to Reno. It was a crazy night. I hadn't experienced anything like it in twenty years. We went to a male strip show and gambled all night before ending it with a mimosa and prime rib brunch. I was as much high from excitement as I was from the mimosas. I knew it wasn't a good idea for me to drive home but Ray2 and Eve would be waiting for the car and I couldn't possibly fathom what an interrogation I would be subject to if I arrived home late, flushed and tipsy. I hadn't thought it through very well and I started to panic.

It crossed my mind to call Eve and have her make a small pot of coffee and load it with three or four of the sleeping pills. My thought was Ray would get up and go straight for the coffee not even questioning that Eve made it, trying to recover from the unusually deep sleep he had experienced the night before. The trouble was; I could kill him doing that. If he was really bad off when he woke up he might go for some speed or coke or whatever he used to wake himself up lately. I had no idea what would happen if he took both speed and sleeping pills. It got to be 6:30, a half hour before I should be clocking out at work and I still didn't have a single idea.

I called Eve. She answered in the middle of the second ring. She must have been sleeping on her phone.

"Hey"

"Hey, what's up?"

"I've been out with Cindy all night at casinos and I can't come home and see your Dad. He'll know right away."

"Fuck him."

"Eve, will you please stop it. I need some help. Do you have any ideas?"

"Ummm....I could tell him I need a ride to school early and that Ray2 isn't ready. Then he will be gone for about 15 minutes. Will that help?"

"Wow that is a great idea; a really great idea. If there is anything you could do to parlay that into thirty minutes, I would appreciate it."

"I'm not spending thirty minutes with Dad. I hate him. He's an asshole. 15 is the best I can do or you could just tell him to shove it up his ass."

"Christ, Eve! I'll take the 15 but please stop that filthy swearing. It's disgusting....and thanks honey. Really".

### 42) March 2009, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

Madeline notified me now and then, when she had a moment, that the sales of my books were going quite well and that she had had several requests for appearances and book signings. She wasn't attending any of them, not because she didn't want to deceive anyone, she just didn't have the time and didn't benefit by doing so in any way. It really was quite fortuitous the way things worked out as I have never been the least bit interested in recognition or glory. I was however, very interested in the money.

Money, or the lack of it had been causing me problems most of my life. It had plagued my childhood. It was the motivating factor behind my choosing St. Louis for college, and accounting as a career. It was indeed the underlying factor behind my hook up with Ray and had been a factor in my inability to leave him as well.

When my dad died he left a small savings and an even smaller insurance. He was only 33 so I doubt the threat of death was anything he dwelt upon. We had no income beyond what my mom earned working a few hours a week at the library. The shortage of money made the residual effects of what was already a devastating event last well into the next decade and beyond.

We were living in a beautiful four bedroom home in a wonderland neighborhood. It was a white two story with 6 over 6 windows, a large front porch and a lush front lawn inside the story book style low white picket fence. The garden was always full of flowers my father brought home from the nursery. He and my mother would spend weekends in the front yard planting them while the neighbors walking by, stopped to talk.

When he died, my mom went to work full time. She wasn't trained to do anything so she just took the first thing available and we girls learned to fend for ourselves. I was the oldest at 11 and as such was immediately elevated to the "other adult" position in the house. It would have been difficult situation under any circumstances but ours was exceptionally rough in that within a few years we learned that the adult that died was the one with the brains, the class, the ambition, the ability, and the heart, and that the one we were left with was the one with the looks.

During the first year we sold Dad's car, stopped watering the lawn, and stopped all sports, recreation, and music lessons. The second year we sold their two wedding rings and the two additional pieces of gold my mom had. We had two garage sales to turn over every little item that wasn't in current use and then it was the wedding crystal and china. Madeline started watching Natalie while I took babysitting jobs around the neighborhood, then walked dogs, and cleaned houses. My mom took all that and a second mortgage out on the house. She and I fought like an old married couple. I suppose looking back now she wasn't really doing anything wrong. I was just angry because she was so incapable. It was hard to never have two cents to rub together and to work and go to school and still have less than everyone around me. I am certain running the household expenses as a 13 year old because my mother couldn't manage it, influenced my career choice. I sentenced myself to a life of correcting other people's financial errors and insufficiencies.

I am sorry now that I didn't ever have the opportunity to repair the damage those hard years had on my relationship with my mom. I was so angered and frustrated by our financial situation that when I left for college I didn't come back for two years which was in turn part of the reason Natalie was so angry. She was young when I left and as she told me later, it was as though a parent left and never even came back for visitation rights. Then, on one of the rare trips back, after I had graduated, I discovered my fraternal grandparents had left us a small sum of money a few years back and that my mom had taken it and spent it, leading to more years of anger. Now that I had money, all of the anger was gone. Unfortunately, so was most of my mom's brain.

A lot of people wouldn't think the kind of money I had was anything to get excited about. It wasn't enough to retire and it wasn't like it was a regular income. Book popularity came and went. I had probably banked 70 to 80 percent of everything that would be gained from the first two books and I was fairly confident I could expect the same return for the next two, one written but not published, and the other not written yet. Then it would dry up for good. The thought of losing that security kept me working hard at coming up with new ideas for more writing but try as I might I hadn't a clear vision yet as to what to write next.

Part of the problem may have been that I was truly a little distracted by all the money. I had started taking Ray2 and Eve out to eat a few days a week. It was really nice. The change in atmosphere from the house to a restaurant, immediately transformed all of our attitudes. I urged them both to keep quiet about any money we spent and to not accidentally get caught but it really was a pointless speech. There was no way either of them would be careless and at the same time there was no way Ray wouldn't find out.

I did go to the outlet malls and spend a day. I got both Eve and Ray2 some things that because of the grunge look that was so popular then, I didn't believe Ray would notice. It wasn't as though I couldn't buy or do these little things before I got the book money it was just the ridiculous issue Ray made out of anything. I'd say "Ray, I need an extra hundred this week for uniform shorts and a jacket." Then it would be "Who for? Didn't we just buy uniform shorts? Why doesn't the school pay for those? Do they turn them in at the end of the year? How much are they anyway? What is the rest of the money for? I can't believe a kid's jacket costs 75 dollars now-a-days. What happened to the last jacket we bought him? You already took 900 out for household expenses this month. Don't you have anything left over from that?

That was maybe one tenth of what would be said before I actually got the hundred dollars. By the end of each ordeal I would regret I had not just done something simple like hold up a bus load of school children for lunch money instead of asking Ray for it. I had tried valiantly to get the books and bills from him after the bankruptcy but it had proven to be completely impossible. I gave up. I thought, "You keep them. This will end, one way or another." In the mean time I was trying to function under the current situation, the best way possible.

I found a wonderful consignment store in Nevada, about a 45 minute drive from our house. I had struck up a great relationship with two women who owned it. When I found something I wanted, I took the piece that was in our house over to the landlord and put it in her barn and then filled the space in our house with the one I had bought. Mercifully Ray didn't get it. As long as it wasn't shiny, metal, leather or a piece of electronics, he wouldn't know if it was old or new. And while I was asking the landlord if I could put a few of my own pieces in the house I also gave her my cell phone number. I told her it wouldn't do if Ray knew I could pay her because it would drain me and then I wouldn't be able to, but that if he should get behind by 30 days to call me. I would make the payment if she would keep it between us. She gave me six quart size jars of homemade blackberry jam with stickers and ribbons on them. I just loved them but I didn't want to take anything with her name on them into the house. She was soooo nice. I just put the jars under the house to save for gifts.

I had one more tick that wouldn't go away. I wanted to get my hair done. I hadn't had it cut in ten years unless you counted the times I had Ray2, then Eve when she got older, put a piece of scotch tape across the back and cut below the tape. I was reluctant to have it professionally done because I believed it would be a red flag. The problem with having this money wouldn't be any one single mistake it would a combination of two or three minutely tiny things that were different. Once Ray noticed the first deviation from the status quo, no matter how insignificant, and then noticed a second or third, his suspicion would grow and then he would grab on to it and never let it go. It made the money a double edge sword; fun to have but dangerous all the same.

While I was busy with all of the new activity, spending my loot, Cindy called me a few times saying she was driving or flying up and wanted to know if we could get together. I stalled because outings with Cindy took a lot out of me and as I explained to her I wasn't a single woman. I hoped it was a hint at how the door was still open for her to change that. It was a last ditch effort but I wasn't going to give up. I really thought my best shot at it would be to get Madeline and Dawn back up here and recreate the old lightheartedness we had previously had about the subject. The opportunity arose a short time later.

### 43) March 2009, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

The next time Cindy called, she left a message telling me that she had bought a house in an exclusive gated lakeside community on the north shore of Lake Tahoe. It amazed me that someone could just lay out a million bucks on a piece of property without a care as to the volatility in the real estate market. I wondered what it would be like to have that kind of money. At that time I had less than a tenth of what she had spent, accumulated from the book sales, in an account somewhere in Madeline's name. I knew Madeline was doing the best that she could with it but some of it had been taxed at an exorbitant rate because it was claimed on top of her already substantial salary. It would have been nice if I could have claimed it myself but I would never have seen a dime of it if it came into our household. I was just waiting for the day I became a free woman and could spend what I made myself.

Cindy wanted me to come see her house. It sounded easier than it was. First of all I couldn't just drop in for an hour. She would want an all-night celebration and second I wouldn't ever, ever let Ray know about our friendship. He had a history of destroying friendships and even if I couldn't pawn him off on her, I liked her. I didn't want to jeopardize the few opportunities I had to connect with someone without a cloud of worry over my head in fear of repercussions. I was really anxious to see her again and imagined many times how nice it would be to relive the kind of night we had had at the vacation last summer.

I didn't want to let her know how complicated my life was so I just texted her with a short note that said I was really slammed right now but let me see what I could do.

Two days later I called Madeline. I told her that I wanted to get out to see Cindy and her new house but that I didn't want Ray to know and asked if she had any ideas. She suggested that I tell Ray I was going for a girl's only spa weekend at a casino, her treat, and then just set a date and do it. It sounded like a plan but I had to work my way up to it. Although I felt stronger in my ability to handle Ray, I was also not going to underestimate him. He was, I was sure, willing to go to extremes that I couldn't conceive and quite possibly couldn't even survive.

As usual, I had to prepare for Eve and Ray2. It would be bad enough if they were regularly left to Ray's whims but the thought of what they would be subject to were he to find out I was at a party, no matter how small, that he hadn't orchestrated, would be beyond comprehension. Ray had a way of wanting to keep them captive when I was at a distance, as a means of keeping me tethered so I had to get them out of range before the event. I didn't even want Ray knowing where they were. The more I expanded my horizons, the greater the need for more complicated and contrived lies.

I told Eve about my intention to go stay at Cindy's for a weekend and how worried I was about getting her and Ray2 out of the house while I was gone. She had a solution before I was even finished getting it out of my mouth. It was the answer that determined the weekend we got together. She said the couple that she dog sat for was going out of town for five days in late April and had wanted her to watch the dogs, feed them and play with them. She said they would be thrilled for her to stay at their house. Ray didn't even know they existed. That was a good start but the car would be a problem. Ray2 would not want to be without transportation for three days and the Baxters lived about two miles further out of town than we did off the same main road. Ray2 and Eve driving to and from the Baxter's' house would very possibly run into Ray on the road. Logic would suggest I just tell Ray where they were staying but I would be jeopardizing Eve's relationship with the couple; or actually trashing it. I couldn't think of any place I could tell Ray they were going that he wouldn't track them down and harass them because he didn't like me being gone.

I decided to tell Ray that Eve was going with me and Ray2 would be staying with a friend. Ray had crossed a line back when he was harassing Ray2 for the drug overdose and they hadn't spoken two words to each other since. The benefit to that was that he wouldn't ask me for a phone number or an address where Ray2 was staying since he knew he wouldn't want tracking or babysitting. Additionally, Ray would be pacified by the thought I would be shackled to Eve. I planned to then have Madeline pick Eve and me up after which we would drop Eve off at the Baxter's. Ray2 could have the car and leave when he pleased.

With all of the logistics in place, I planned the use of two of two more of the precious tiny white sleeping pills I had taken from Ray's prescription bottle so many months previously. I wanted to give him more, never knowing what he might have taken that they would be working against but I didn't want to be responsible for killing him. I felt particularly nasty that night and agreed to spend some time with him before I went to spend the weekend with Cindy and Madeline and Dawn. I was gloating and getting pretty confident at that point so I sat around having watered down drinks with him from five until about eight o'clock when I planned to leave. I was making his cocktails and while I thought I was so smart, I was actually getting a little drunker than I had planned. I was enjoying the game so much that over the course of three hours I dissolved four of the little white pills in his drinks getting more and more encouraged by the minute. By quarter to eight he was passed out on the couch. I was ecstatic; dancing and singing as I packed.

I was just a little worried about the Baxter's dogs. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn't completely wipe them from my mind. A few days before the weekend event, I bought Ray2 and Eve stun guns. They were expensive but I was happy to be able to buy something for my children with my money. Eve was thrilled with it and started up about how she was going to hit Ray in the balls with it every time she found him passed out drunk. I reminded her that it wouldn't do her any good if the person she was going to use it on knew she had it. Its only value was in a surprise attack or in her case, surprise defense. I couldn't talk Ray2 into taking the other one. When Madeline and I dropped Eve off that night I tried one last time to give it to him. He said, "You keep it. I don't need it. I'll kill that son of bitch with my bare hands." It was disheartening that my gentle giant child was so hardened but if this was war then so be it. As he walked away from me I quietly called a last reminder to him, "Ray2, it's just the dogs. I'm worried about them."

### 44) 2001, Emery County, Utah

Ray never would let us get a pet and I never would have bought one against his wishes since I would have assumed it would have ended up dumped beside the road in some remote location. I guess it wouldn't have really made sense anyway with all of the moving we did but I always felt it worked well to his purposes for us not to have that simple comfort to turn to when we were down. Ray2 was never terribly fond of warm fuzzy animals either so he had that support in an argument as well.

That Christmas in Corbin when we were all so lost and down and out Ray brought Eve home the sweetest cutest little white Shih Tzu puppy you have ever laid eyes on. That time he got it right. He was the Christmas savior. That little puppy jumped on and off Eve's bed a thousand times. Ray2 took it upon himself to potty train it. I saw it as Ray2's way to get close without looking like he cared. Being Ray2, he was successful and we only had one or two accidents before we never had to worry about that again.

The puppy transformed our household. You would never have recognized it. All of the commotion and sheer joy it brought was infectious. Eve had her face buried in the dog 24/7. It slept with her ate with her, watched T.V. with her and took every step with her as she attempted to gain her strength. Within a week Eve was broken out in a full body rash. She was highly allergic to the dog.

We took her to the doctor several times. She initially got a shot and lotion, and something with which to bathe. It was shear hell locking that dog out of her room. It cried and cried in attempts to get back in but the rash only let up when we separated the two of them. Ray2 let the dog sleep in his room but he wouldn't let it get on his bed. The dog roamed the house in the evening for a week trying to find a way to get itself to sleep. I finally started taking it in my lap in the living room to get it to go to sleep like a baby and it seemed somewhat consoled. We fell into a routine with Ray2 taking it on one or two walks every afternoon after school and me taking it to the park in the morning. If I hadn't been so devoid of feelings at that time I might have noticed I was getting quite attached to, and dependent on, that dog.

Ray never went anywhere near the pup. I saw him kick it once when it walked by and I imagined that was not the first time. I thought when I saw that, that that dog was much like the rest of us; consigned to hell. I wondered what it had done in its previous life to deserve this.

### 45) April 2009, Lake Tahoe, NV

The little white pills didn't kill Ray but by the time he woke up you can bet he must have known that was not a natural sleep he had fallen into. The only thing that was on my side was that Ray would not believe I would drug him. He thought I was far too structured to do something so underhanded, deceitful and invasive to another human being. He might have been right at one time but eighteen years with Ray St. Claire changed a person. He started calling me at 11:00 the next day, leaving messages that in the beginning showed an attempt to keep a kind of playful but cagy tone. Over the course of the weekend the tone in the messages changed. By Sunday I was deleting them without listening to them. To quote Eve, "He could shove it up his ass".

I felt like I was invincible. It was as though I was playing war games and had the enemy successfully contained. With Ray outmaneuvered, I was free to enjoy myself, and boy did I ever! I had so much fun! Cindy was over the top. She had a catering company drop off trays of food and a waiter, Chippendale style, serve us drinks until I kicked him out. I told her if she wanted a man, she could have Ray. We ran around in our underwear, drank profusely, played loud music, danced, and jumped in and out of the hot tub all under a beautiful starry night sky in a rockin' house overlooking the lake. I woke up late to the smell of shrimp omelets. It turned out Dawn was an ace cook and loved doing it. (Yuck, yuck, yuck). As I sat in the swivel bar stool at Cindy's counter I listened to Dawn tell me the steps in her recipe. If this was the price I paid for someone to cook me shrimp omelets for breakfast it was cheap.

Cindy came in, hair damp and freshly showered, and passed vitamin B capsules around and poured bloody maries (yuck, yuck, yuck). She announced we were going for a hot air balloon ride and needed to be properly anesthetized before the event.

All four of us got along marvelously. I wish now I had just left it at that. It would have been good to just meet once or twice a year for weekend blowouts or week long retreats. After all, I was a little better off since I had money and within a few years my kids would be free and safe, off to college, living their own lives. I should have just let it go but I didn't. I guess once I was on a track I just never considered changing it. So though the weekend was everything I could have hoped for and more, the little second agenda, my ulterior motive was ever present in the back of my mind. I felt a little like Matt Damon in "The Talented Mr. Ripley", everybody so gaily partying without the knowledge that one person was preying on the others. Just like him I was careful to conceal my intentions. If I blew it, not only would Cindy not do the deed, I would be ousted from the group. I wasn't at that time as ashamed as I was desperate. I had just come off of a particularly bad spell with Ray and I was getting older. The realization that this would never go away or change and that I had a good 40 years or more to live through it, motivated me greatly. This trajectory I was on was my only hope. I considered any threat to my relationship with Cindy and the others to be just more of the collateral damage Ray caused just because he existed.

Saturday night, when we were exhausted and fighting sleep after a late night the previous night and a full day of activity, we were drinking White Russians on the deck of Jack's in Kings Beach. Dawn asked if Cindy had met my husband yet; an innocent enough question. Cindy replied, "No, Penelope is keeping him sequestered. She doesn't want me near him." I could feel my heart beating in my chest. What I said next could alter the course of my life. It came as no surprise though that while I was thinking, Dawn just couldn't, couldn't let it be quiet for a minute! "I just wondered because Madeline and Penelope talked about him like he was a demi-god and I have been so curious to find out just what the hullabaloo was all about. I mean, hell if he's that hot, I'll hit on him myself."

Oh, my god. "Good Dawn" I was thinking; reel her in.

"I'll hook you up tomorrow Cindy. Just say the word." I said.

And mercifully, finally, Dawn was quiet. Maybe she was wiser than I thought.

"Sure, sure, I'm ready to check him out. I've been bored lately. I'm ready to test the water. What did you have in mind?"

"I can call him tomorrow and tell him I am staying another night at the hotel. He won't have it. He'll be over there in a heartbeat, only I won't be there. He'll be looking and waiting and you just show up."

And just like that it was done and because it had fallen into place so easily, I fantasized I had the will of the gods on my side.

There was still a healthy amount of snow on the slopes though the sun was shining brightly. Everyone wanted to hit the slopes because you just don't go to Tahoe and not ski. I spent the day vacillating between hypersensitivity to the here and now, enjoying the day being with friends, and fixating on the future and what it might hold for me were I to be free of Ray. All four of us were pretty good skiers and it was terrific fun running up and down the slopes with one person then meeting another and going to a different slope with them. We met for lunch and skied for two more hours before practically falling into the car, exhausted.

On the way back to Cindy's we stopped at the Hyatt in Incline. I had this plan to call Ray from the hotel phone telling him my phone was dead and that I had forgotten my charger. That way he would have the hotel number I was calling from show up on his phone. He would think he had found where I was staying for the weekend. I had convincingly argued with him, claiming that I refused to let him know where I was staying because I didn't want him checking up on me as we both well knew he had a history of doing.

He answered the phone, unfortunately. I was hoping to leave him a message. I knew there was no way to ever be completely sure, when you were dealing with Ray, whether you were hanging yourself or not. I told him we would be staying another night and that my phone was dead and I couldn't find my charger.

"Why didn't you use Eve's?" he asked.

My heart skipped a beat. I had completely forgotten that Eve was supposed to be with me.

"She met up with some friends and they went snowboarding."

"Without her gear?"

My God, I was fucking up right and left.

"She used someone else's. Listen Ray, I've got to go. We are going to meet up with her and grab some dinner and she has got to be tired. We'll be home sometime tomorrow but I don't know when so...good night." I waited a few seconds and heard him quietly respond, "Good night." I could hear and feel the fury in just those two words. Not answering his calls and texts since the day I had left and now this. I had lit a fire under his ass and knew he would be in the car and over to the hotel guar-an-teed.

I called Eve to cover my bases believing she and Ray2 would be completely amenable to another adult free night. That didn't go over so well. Ray2 answered her phone and told me Eve was pretty broken out. He wasn't an extremist so I knew if he mentioned it, it was a problem. I asked him to go get some calamine lotion at the store for her and he said they had been putting it on for the last two days but that there was no fighting it as long as they were in that house. It must have had dog all over it. I asked him to think about packing up and coming over to Cindy's. After all we were going to be there one more night and might as well share it.

They called me back in about five minutes and said they would head out in an hour. I was relieved. This game wasn't too fun to play when it included subjecting my daughter to allergic reactions. I told Ray2 that I would be in a world of shit if his dad saw Eve in the car with him or if his Dad saw where he was going. When Ray2 replied, "Don't worry" I was forever grateful that I could take what he said to the bank.

Sunday evening I was sorry the weekend was ending. I would have really been depressed had Eve and Ray2 not come. It put a smile on my face and joy in my heart to show them Cindy's place and enjoy it with them. Everyone was so good and warm to them. I was happy to show them that this is how human beings treat each other. I ordered barbeque ribs from Jakes for everyone. My world had changed so drastically since our vacation with these women last year when I was carefully counting pennies and using money Madeline had sent me.

After we ate Cindy excused herself with the explanation she had to get ready to meet someone. The rest of us went out to the hot tub. It was fortunate Ray2 and Eve were there or I would have wanted us all to go over to the hotel and spy on Ray. It would have been a justifiable turning of the tables, but a stupid move. That kind of thing was exactly what would get me caught.

That night was bittersweet. I calculated that I had been happy for the longest consecutive number of hours that I could remember my whole life. Even when I had my babies, there would be the anticipation of Ray coming home to mark the end of the joy but this weekend had just gone on and on. When Cindy was ready to leave and Ray2 and Eve were in the media room scanning the millions of channels available on the expansive satellite system, Cindy turned to me and asked "You sure I should be doing this?"

There was a pregnant silence while I considered the sacrifice of the only friend I had had in 18 years. I said, "No. You shouldn't be...you should be asking yourself why I need to dump him so badly."

She says, "Yeah there are a million ex-wives out there who will tell you their spouses were the rottenest in the world and another million women willing to take them on for a second time around. I am going to go see what all the commotion is about. Later."

### 46) 2003, Salt Lake City, Utah

The day after I told Ray that I wanted a separation, he left. I knew it wasn't going to be that easy because in customary Ray fashion he had had me up all night, alternating between angry accusations and professions of undying love. "I'll never let you go Pen. I've done everything a man could for you, it has never been enough. No one man can satisfy you."

I got up and took Eve and Ray2 to school and then prayed he would be gone just a few more hours so I could rest. He stayed gone the whole day and I managed to get myself somewhat pulled together before I picked up Ray2 and Eve and some takeout for supper. I planned to sequester us in the house on the roll out couch in the living room in front of the TV. I refused to be alone with Ray under any conditions. If I took a step toward emancipation it always set me back ten steps. I needed to rapidly refuel and create a plan of action.

All night and that next day while Ray2 and Eve were at school I felt as though I was wasting precious minutes. I should have been moving toward implementing a game plan but I couldn't come up with anything. I had about $300 and no job. I could comfortably borrow a few thousand from Madeline or even Natalie for that matter but where would that get me. My maximum earning potential before working my way up a ladder somewhere was about 3000 per month. Two thousand would probably get me 1st and last month's rent in a dump but I would immediately need a job. I didn't want to live in SLC but Eve and Ray2 were in the middle of a semester and where would I target if I did go? If I stayed, Ray would not leave us alone. He'd be back and he'd harass me relentlessly. I ended up taking Ray2 and Eve to school that second day, still without a clear plan.

When I returned I saw that Ray had been there. I was incredibly relieved he was gone. Maybe he was ready to let us go. It was possible. I noticed he picked up some clothes and toiletries further buoying my hope that he might stay away. I wasn't stupid enough to count on it though. All day, I looked online for jobs and places to rent. I considered that I might borrow four thousand instead of two, and when I got up to prepare to go to a job interview before picking Ray2 and Eve from school I felt I had a pretty solid plan that might work. After the interview, sitting parked in front of the school, waiting for Eve and Ray2 I remember feeling a profound exhaustion taking over my whole being. The prior two days I had been on such high alert in anticipation of Ray's backlash that I had burnt myself to a near collapse.

Within 15 minutes of the bell ringing the entire block was deserted. Eve and Ray2 never came out. Eventually a few kids I recognized passed the car and I rolled down the window and asked if they had seen them. They told me their Dad had picked them up at lunch and they hadn't come back. This was a familiar power play Ray had used often while I was at Brown and even some sporadically before then. Mega arguments had broken out on the subject but all they served to do was to underscore how successful Ray's maneuvers were in upsetting me.

The whole way home all I thought about was how I was going to address the situation when they returned. I expected they would be back before midnight, as Ray knew they had school tomorrow. All he wanted to do was shake me up enough so that when they returned he could slip in and reestablish himself while I "overlooked it" because I was so distraught.

As I unlocked the door to our duplex unit I was fully concentrating on the anticipation of that confrontation so that when I looked at the mass on the floor in the front hall I wasn't really cognizant of what I was seeing.

When I did understand what I was looking at I realized I didn't understand what had happened. Why was he bleeding? What could make a dog bleed? Why was the blood just in a pool? If he had hurt himself, how had it happened in the center of the hallway? There wasn't anything near him that he could have cut himself on. There was no sense in checking to see if he was still alive. There was way too much blood.

I couldn't bring myself to look at the details in the mass. I was vaguely aware of a pure white nucleus in the irregular circle of dark red. It stunk. I pulled the front door back open and backed up onto the cement step outside. As I did my knees sort of buckled. I knelt on the stoop with my head turned trying to inhale some air other than that in the hallway. Down in that low position I could see a slightly less vibrant marking in the blood on the far side of the pool. Focusing on it I could see it was a faint foot print. "Gotcha, I thought."

When the cops arrived they asked me three times in different ways, if I had been anywhere in the house other than the front hall. I answered no every time. A crime scene technician came out and took photos. They found a kitchen knife under the dog and a tennis shoe with blood in the treads in the master bedroom closet. It was mine. The only prints on the knife were mine too. I had used it to make sandwiches for the kids to take to school that morning and I had left it in the sink.

Ray called at about 11pm. He left a message on my phone that simply said, "We are at Disneyland. We may stop and visit your mother. We will be back Friday night for dinner. Don't make any plans to take any side trips. We are going to be tired so I am not going to want to put up with any of your shit. I want that veal dish you haven't made in a while."

### 47) May 2009, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

I began to get a little concerned when I hadn't heard from Cindy for five days following the night we watched her walk out the door to meet Ray. She customarily texted me to say she had a great time, or to thank me for coming over or for the little gifts I brought when I came but I had no word from her this time. On the one hand I didn't want to get in her space or to start a habit of checking up on her but on the other hand I couldn't act like playing games with Ray was an innocent pastime. Like it or not I was going to have to make an effort to communicate with her though contacting her was going to be a problem.

I knew Ray well. If he was seeing her, he was in her email, her voicemail, and her contacts; keenly aware of everyone with whom she was associated. I imagined the two of them lying in bed while she innocently played her voicemail messages, unaware that doing so would mark the beginning of his invasion into her privacy. I had two choices. I could email Dawn who Ray didn't know and have her call Cindy and ask her to get in touch with me or go buy a prepaid phone with a new number. Either method of getting ahold of her would only last for a limited time as Cindy wouldn't be getting any more calls that Ray didn't know about. That thought gave me a slight pang as I regretted what I knew would be the loss of at least some of Cindy's candor and spontaneity, two of her most appealing attributes.

I opted to email Dawn from my second account that I had set-up back when I was submitting manuscripts to publishers. I wasn't ecstatic about involving her further as I knew she thought all this secrecy was thrilling. Not only did it disgust me, it concerned me that if she thought it was a game, she might very well in her enthusiasm, slip and do something that got someone hurt.

All of the preparation to just contact Cindy, all of the subterfuge, made me weary. I longed to feel the freedom I thought would come with the disentanglement from Ray but it looked like that might be a while coming. I wanted to write books, furnish my house, work in the cage, and have meaningful moments with my children. I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn't going to get what I wanted by letting things ride or by doing "nothing" as the psychiatrist had put it. There was going to be at least a few more months of work before I was going to be able to walk away.

If Cindy dropped Ray too early, it would be like all of his other affairs, as though they never happened. I had hopes that Ray would be so taken with Cindy that when I caught them together and screamed in outrage for a divorce, he would be so distracted by her that he would acquiesce. If she could put up with him until the papers were filed, I'd take my money and my kids and run, maybe to Canada. If he followed me there I'd plant drugs on him and call the police.

Cindy sounded sheepish when she finally returned my call. I assumed, and was later assured, that she was embarrassed. She was a bit taken by Ray. That would change though as sure as the sun rose in the sky but at that time I suppose she felt she might lose face if I knew she wasn't completely in control of her feelings. I told her I needed to see her, and soon.

As was the case with everything involving Ray this was going to be complicated. If I was working, Ray would plan and expect to see Cindy. If I wasn't working, Ray would expect me home and in all likelihood, be home as well, performing the duties of a dedicated husband and father. He always became the devout family man in self-assigned penance for a good affair.

The first opportunity I had to meet Cindy was for lunch almost four weeks after I had last seen her. I asked her to meet me far out of town to insure we wouldn't run into Ray. The chances of that were doubled now that we were both seeing him. He might be following either one of us. Naturally, Cindy thought I was possessed to be so cautious. It wouldn't be the first time Ray would have someone convinced that it was me who was crazy and I wouldn't have cared except that I was concerned for Cindy.

I was already seated at the table waiting for her when I saw her enter the restaurant. She looked great; healthy and smartly dressed. That was encouraging. Ray had a way of beating people down but Cindy appeared confident and glowing, the traits that had attracted me to her in the first place. I thought, "so far so good".

When she first sat down neither of us spoke. We just looked at each other for a moment when the waiter came and took our drink order. When he left, I spoke first.

"Well, what do you think?"

She got a little half smile on her face and slowly moved her head back and forth with her eyes huge and staring. "Wow. Truthfully, I'm a little overwhelmed. Sitting here right now is, I think, the first time I have had a break in three weeks. I'm just trying to see how it feels. I have a few calls I have to get to this afternoon but other than that, I'm great. How about you? Have you been enjoying your new found freedom?" She delivers this last part with a wink.

"You have no idea. I am a new person. You know how you just said, 'sitting here is the first time I have had a break in three weeks'? Well that's me only it has been twenty years, not three weeks. And, I'm curious. Have you actually lost track of time? It's been four weeks, not three."

"Yes, I probably have lost track of time. I haven't been in touch with my clients or my team and I'm a little distracted, thinking about all I have going on. This really odd guy called me. He's Russian. He exports fish to the U.S. He did close to 100 million in exports to the US in 2008. He wants this whole image package, a make-up, make-over, and coming out kind of campaign. He says the door is open for him to quadruple his business within 24 months and he wants me to manage the campaign. I'm excited. This is really big and so much more sophisticated than correcting the public's perception of some reality TV star's tainted reputation. But that's enough about me. How are you and the kids doing?"

"We had such a fun night at your house that night when I called them out. I haven't seen you since then to thank you. We felt like we had won the lotto. I really appreciate your letting me have them just pile themselves up and drop in on you like that."

"Don't be silly. What do you think I got that place for? Here, let me give you this key. I am going to be out of town more than I am in town over the next few months. The housekeeper comes once a week on Tuesday mornings and she doesn't have anything to do when I am not there. You and the kids go dirty the place up. I'll text you when my schedule takes me out of town so you will have plenty of notice."

"Oh my gosh, this is so generous. Are you sure? How are you going to get in?"

"Yes, I am sure and I'll use the code to get in. You can always just text me for the code if you forget the key. I have to change it every month to comply with my security contract so I can give it to you now but just know it changes every month. That's why I like to use the key."

It was good to see Cindy again, living, breathing, vibrant, even exuberant. It was no wonder this Russian guy wanted her to run his P.R. campaign. She exuded a kind of electrical energy. She looked good and was an inspiration to me and I told her so. Her eyes lit up from the praise and she said "Thank you. I needed that. I have been feeling like beating myself up lately for leaving my work unattended but I'll have to remember to call you when I need a boost to my self- esteem. Speaking of work, how is the book writing coming?"

I told her I had made some money and was content. I added that there was one more book that I had written but was still waiting to be published so there was a little more to be made. I let her know that I was a little worried because I was stumped as far as coming up with a new concept.

"Oh, writer's block...uhuh...well I was wondering if you had thought about uploading the books to Kindle? Two or three of the top best sellers on the market now were not printed or published conventionally but just uploaded by the authors. I understand there is quite a bit more money to be made that way. If you need help I can put you in touch with the guys on my team that do my online work and see if they can steer you in the right direction. I believe it needs to be formatted a particular way and then maybe I can help to get it blasted out to the public. I mean you are doing fine without me I just want to help anyway I can."

*** A few hours later when we exited the restaurant our shadows were long on the ground and the sun was within minutes of setting. I was reluctant to leave but Cindy had work to catch up on and I knew she was busy and had been generous with her time.

I told her I wanted to have another week this year like the one last year but I would be looking for another location. Eve had seen Ray trolling around the last time we had met and I damn sure didn't want him looking us up again. She told me I was getting paranoid in my old age – thinking there were conspiracies everywhere.

"I don't know if that's true or not but take care of yourself. Promise me you will stay in touch with me and remember; there was a reason I wanted to dump Ray in the first place. He can be a handful as you have well learned these past few weeks."

She hugged me and assured me she was fine. She told me to let her know what week we were going to be getting together so she could let the Russian know she would be unavailable. I thought, "He's not the only one you are going to be answering to," but I kept that to myself.

### 48) May 2003, Reno, NV

Ray had always prided himself on being the best of lovers. He thought he had the corner on making women come. That was his thrill. "Look what Ray can do for you". Women just didn't deny him. If he felt even the slightest resistance or hesitation his efforts to seduce you would lock into turbo charge. I had tried every which way under the sun to put an end to his touching me but for all my efforts, every stand I took meant a further step into oblivion. If I laid there without responding, it would happen anyway and then frustrated at the way it had turned out he would touch me day in and day out, rubbing me, attempting to bait me anyway he could until finally he would get angry and accusing and chase me and follow me and call me names and keep me up all night, night after night pawing at me pleading with me, doing everything in the book just to hear me squeal like a pig.

Much as I hated doing it, I learned that if I just took it the first time, played along and let him have his day, I wouldn't be subjected to all the rest. He could walk away with the idea that he could bend my body to his will, heat it up, cool it off, make it wait, and whatever other shit he fantasized about in his dreams.

It hadn't always been like that. I was at one time, before things took a turn for the worst, completely taken with Ray. He was an exceptionally attentive lover, forever seeking to accommodate my every want and desire. He had made me feel alive when everything else around me felt dead. Later, when everything between us and around us had gone south it was still a place we could meet without corruption; the only place where I wasn't guarded and defensive. Looking back it may have been why Ray was obsessed with sex, beyond what anyone would consider normal. When we engaged we were fluid and cooperative. Perhaps because our lives were so combative it made the relief we felt when coming together all the sweeter.

Whether he got tired of the way it was, whether it was driven by anger or if it just went the way all things ever did with Ray, I will never know but there did finally come a time when he brought fear into the bedroom with us and once there, once that last line had been crossed, it was there to stay.

*** During the last few months we lived in Salt Lake City and for the entire time we lived in Reno, Ray and I lived separate lives. Though we lived in the same house, and though he was home every night, we rarely spoke. I started a routine of sharing the bathroom with the kids and never undressed in front of him and was never in the bedroom alone with him. I had the hope that without physical or emotional contact we might naturally grow apart.

Then one morning, quite suddenly, Ray came up behind me in the kitchen and started fondling me. I had my bathrobe on over my nightgown and he started trying to find a way between the folds in the cloth to get at my skin with his fingers while he whispered at my neck. My skin just crawled.

"Ray stop it."

"What's the matter with you? You know you want it. I haven't touched you in months."

"Ray I don't want it; at all, ever again."

"Don't try to bullshit me Pen, you're wet. I can feel it."

"Stop it Ray. I don't want anything to do with you."

My heart was beating at a million pulses per second. I should have thought about this moment ahead of time but I was hoping and praying it would never happen; that that part of our lives was over forever. I knew I couldn't fake it anymore. We had come too far for that. I tried rationing with him. I tried pleading with him. I told him he could make my body do things that my heart and head were not interested in. I appealed to his sense of dignity. I tried to tell him he didn't need to do this. He knew as well as I did women still wanted him. Why didn't he find someone new? With every breath he grew more restless and more insistent. I twisted and pushed away from him putting my forearms up and pressing my elbows into his ribcage. The more I pushed the more he pulled and every time I rested his hands would start searching for places he had access to skin in attempts to caress me. I said, "Stop Ray. Don't do this. It isn't like you Ray. You are not a rapist. I'm telling you I don't want this. Stop Ray!"

"Oh that's cute Pen. What is that, your Mom Voice?"

"NO Ray that is the voice of reason. Stop Ray. Stop!" But he didn't. He wouldn't be told.

He started walking me backwards toward the bedroom and I threw my arms out in the door way trying to stop from entering. I was no match for him. He was huge. I started singing Christmas songs to distract him but I could feel his muscles tense and he was very hard. I could feel his dick pressing up against me through his jeans. He had my robe open and my nightgown up around my waist. I was trying to pull it down and he said, "Stop Pen, I'll just tear it."

You can't have any idea what it is like for someone to be fingering you when you are repelled by it. I started flailing my arms and brought my knee up between us but by then he had me backed up to the bed and pushed me back. He straddled me with both of my hands caught down by my thighs under his knees. He was holding a scarf up stretched out about three feet between his hands. I couldn't figure out what he was doing. I just kept saying, "Stop Ray."

"You think you don't want this? You think I can't turn you on any more? You think you can walk away from this? I know what makes you tick you ice cold bitch. I'll see you in heaven baby."

Ray was slow about it. It was never over mercifully quickly. That just wasn't the way he did things. He slid the scarf under my neck, crossed it and twisted it. Then he climbed down and ate me as I dug at the scarf trying to get it loose. I put my feet up on his shoulders trying to get leverage to push him away but he didn't budge, the action just lifted my pelvis and he laughed. The harder I pushed the tighter the scarf got.

*** When it was over he held me for five hours, kissing me everywhere, making love to me again and again talking to me the whole time, begging me to forgive him and love him again like I use to. He left to get the kids from school and pick up dinner. I stood in the shower until the water ran cold and then sat in basin until he found me there and picked me up and dried me off. I lay down on the bed until it was time for work where I went just because I knew it was a place he couldn't follow me.

### 49) May 2009, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

I could feel summer coming. The weather turned warm early reminding me that it had been close to a year since we had driven around the lake to vacation on the north shore with Madeline, Cindy and Dawn. I had wanted to plan to do the same again this year but I couldn't ever reach Cindy. I emailed all three of them recognizing how new this was for me to be orchestrating this get together but it felt great. Madeline and Dawn were responsive and quickly agreed on several dates depending on when everyone else was available. I finally received a reply from Cindy in late June that said if we had to get a commitment from her then we would have to make plans without her. She would try to arrange to meet us for a few nights whenever we set it up but she was flat out too busy.

You wouldn't have believed the change in Ray about then. He reminded me of the way he was when I first met him; cock of the walk, generous, thoughtful, eyes shining, happy all the time. As much as I hated him there was some relief for me in that here was this miserable human being, finally happy, finally exuberant. He was back at the top of his game. He even seemed to be selling some cars. He had money he was flashing around and I remember thinking, "If he could match what I was making at the casino we would have plenty to live on comfortably." He was clearly enjoying a relationship with Cindy and was content with the impression that the kids and I were well contained. He was satisfied when he knew where we were at all times and when we were never out of his predetermined sphere of influence.

Ray2 was doing really well in school. He had closed out his junior year with an overall 4.0 GPA. He was going to be eligible for several scholarships due to his diligence if he could maintain his performance for another year. It was the answer to one of my most pressing needs. I could have conceivably sent him to a four year college but Eve and I would have lost all of our security and I would have lost my escape route. If Ray2 could get scholarships and grants for college, as I had, he would be free; completely and totally free. One down, two to go.

Ray was distracted, I had money, Ray2 was on the road to a successful future, I was collecting a few things here and there, even Eve seemed to have calmed down somewhat. Throughout this period I had the good sense to maintain a subdued attitude as I was certain my unintentional display of smug contentment had, at times in the past, triggered Ray's psychosis. For a while then, all was well in the world and I felt so encouraged that I signed up for an online graduate level course in creative writing. It wouldn't be the same as walking on a campus but we didn't live in the vicinity of a college that I could attend for a graduate degree and I wasn't sure about my commitment to that anymore anyway. Since I had a little money, there seemed to be so much more available to me. I did however want to set a good example for my children because with parents, one of whom was a college dropout and another who had a twenty year old BA she had rarely made use of, they hadn't had the best role modeling. Once I had that enrollment out of the way, I finally broke down and had my hair done. It felt loads lighter, and smart and free as my fingers dragged through the shoulder length waves.

I didn't have word from Cindy which really wasn't that unusual. Prior to my giving her the farewell to go meet Ray, there were several times we hadn't spoken to each other for a month or two. It was what I liked about her; that she was an independent person. I couldn't picture the vacation being as exciting as the last one without Cindy though, so I elected to wait until she caught a break. I wasn't in any hurry and I wasn't as needy as I had once been.

### 50) May 2003, Reno, NV

Remarkably I seemed to adjust to whatever Ray dished out. I guess that is just human nature. We adapt to our environment. I managed to be happy to have a place I could work without conflict. I managed to be happy to have a small conversation with Ray2 or Eve now and then in a grocery aisle or just before bed. I didn't talk to my sisters or my mom for almost a year but I didn't want to. I wanted to be alone. Unfortunately, much as I wanted solitude, whenever Ray did anything particularly nasty he would immediately follow it by a lengthy period of staying right near me, right in my face. As a result it wasn't until he was headed off to Tahoe to secure a rental for us that I knew I would have my first break from him in almost a year.

He was leaving in a few days and would be gone for several more, maybe even a week. He walked around talking about how he would get back as soon as he could like we would have trouble managing without him. It felt as though I had been waiting for this break forever. That night he wanted to "discuss" the plans for the move which really meant "dictate" but I wasn't issuing anything that night. I wanted him to be comfortable. I even had a few cocktails though I couldn't bring myself to sit by him. He was so elated for me to be "discussing things with him" that he drank and rambled on for several hours.

Ray went to bed at about 1 am. When I heard him snoring I got up and turned the air conditioning up from the freezing cold 68 he kept it at to a nice toasty 80. In about an hour I checked on him. Sure enough, I found him lying on the bed spread eagle with the covers tossed back, snoring deeply. I dug the bottle of TCA that I had purchased almost a year prior out of a snow boot in the back of the closet. I got an old make up brush I had been saving for just this occasion out of the bathroom cabinet. I carefully applied a nice thick coat to as much of the surface of Ray's dick as I dared. Then staring at the brush I decided there was no need to waste it and wiped the rest of it down the inside of his thighs. You were only supposed to leave it on for 15 to 30 minutes. I wondered what would happen if it stayed on all night.

*** Ray left two days later and three days after that I got a call from him. He asked me if I had any problems. I asked, "Like what?"

"Like a god damn diseased cunt Pen. I have some shit and my dick is about to fall off."

"You had better talk to the ho you slept with last night Ray cause that has nothing to do with me."

"It better not Pen. If I find you have been sleeping around on me, you will pay for it."

"You are all the man I need, Ray."

### 51) July 2009, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

As the summer progressed, maybe once every two or three weeks, I'd text a short line to Cindy just to say hello and let her know I was there if she wanted to talk or get together. Her responses had become increasingly less reliable until eventually during these last three weeks, I hadn't heard from her at all though I had texted her twice. I was reluctant to leave a voicemail because while the texts from my prepaid phone were written so that they could be construed to be from anyone, the voicemail was a record. Call me paranoid but I knew it would not do to underestimate Ray.

I couldn't stop thinking about it so I eventually called Madeline and mentioned it, trying to appear casual. She assured me that she had known Cindy for fifteen years and that they had often gone months at a time without getting in touch with each other. In my mind, the rest of the world didn't understand my concerns or see things from my perspective so I pretty much had to keep quiet about my fears or risk appearing obsessed. I realized that to some degree it wasn't unusual that I hadn't heard from Cindy. She was a much worldlier person then I was and I could see how it might appear that I was fixated on her. Since I had met her the previous year, we had only been in contact with each other maybe every two months or so, if that, but she had been the one contacting me and once I had introduced Ray into the equation, I could no longer judge the situation as I would under "normal" conditions. First, I had clearly and pretty insistently said to her the last time we met that I needed to hear from her; for my sake. She didn't say, "I'm not going to do that" or "I'm not good at that" or "don't expect that". She had said, "You can count on it." The second reason I was concerned was that I was not entirely certain of what Ray was capable and while I refused to elaborate mentally on what was possible, I kept a vigilant thought toward making sure that Cindy never fell victim to him. I had after all fed her to the wolf.

It was tiresome work worrying about Cindy and every time I attempted to reach her it required the additional consideration of devising a method of contacting her without Ray knowing. I didn't even want Madeline calling her anymore. That made Dawn our go to person and I guess I should have been grateful for her help. Dawn had San Francisco area codes on her personal and business phones and was having fun posing as a data processing operation trying to get Cindy's business. I had told her to be careful about getting too smart with it as Ray had spent a year and a half in college studying computer programming before being quietly kicked out for breaking into the university's financial accounts and records. He had managed to charge over 3000 students a 3.99 internet processing fee that went into his bursar account. (This I had found out courtesy of Agent Barbara Manfred. It had previously been my understanding that Ray had graduated with a BA in business management from an entirely different college.)

Good ole' Dawn, not worried about paranoia or propriety, was successful at getting a commitment from Cindy to meet me. It entailed me driving two hours when we only lived thirty minutes apart but I didn't care. I was grateful for the opportunity to relieve my anxiety. I hugged Cindy warmly as we greeted each other in front of the Capitol building. She was close to an hour late but I would have waited all day. I was willing to do whatever I had to do to see her and it was nice to get out of town for a while. She was dressed in a plain black suit with flat heeled shoes and had a large black business bag thrown over her shoulder. I asked if she was going to court today.

She said that she was not but did not offer what she was doing in such a somber outfit. Not only was it somber, it didn't look like it fit her. It looked too big as though she had borrowed it and I wondered if that might in fact have been the case since I had never seen her in anything like it and her hair and makeup, usually so polished looked unfinished by Cindy standards.

We walked two blocks to a little Greek restaurant with outdoor seating and before the hostess could call our waiter, Cindy asked for a gin and tonic. "So what's going on? What have you been up to?" I asked. She appeared guarded and stiff and I felt bad for her. I suspected she had some problems I was not aware of. That was the way it always was. If I saw someone that I thought lived in the perfect world, invariably there was something I wasn't seeing.

"Nothing much really; just working, maintaining the status quo." It was banal banter for a while. Thankfully the waitress came up and asked if we would like to order. Cindy said she wanted to wait so I ordered a beer and Cindy ordered another gin and tonic. The drinks seemed to loosen her tongue a bit and she started rattling on but she was mostly talking about events that had happened several months ago. It was unlike Cindy not to ask what I was doing or how I was. She didn't seem to be aware of the world around her which had been a trait I had liked so much in her. She had brought awareness of the outside world back into my life and now it was gone from hers.

The waitress came back and asked if we were ready to order lunch and without consulting me, Cindy ordered a third drink. My beer was barely touched but I made an effort to down more of it not wanting to distance myself from her. I watched her for a moment trying to understand why she appeared so distracted. She consumed about half of her cocktail after which she seemed to become aware of my presence. She suddenly asked "How are Ray2 and Eve doing?

Her speech was slurred but I was relieved that the alcohol seemed to bring her down to earth somewhat. I told her they were doing great being careful to steer away from mentioning that they hadn't seen their father but once or twice a week and what a boon it was to all of our psyches. I could see she was tightly wound and didn't want to trigger an argument. Thinking it was a safe subject I reminded her how nice it had been for Ray2 and Eve and I to spend time at her house and told her that I was looking forward to her offer to stay at her house, if it was still open. I told her it was a rare opportunity where we could enjoy a retreat free of teenage angst and conflicting schedules.

She said, "Maybe the opportunity to enjoy yourselves might occur more often if they learned to behave".

Where did that come from? "I didn't know they were misbehaving, Cindy. Do you know something I don't know?"

"No, I just know how teenagers can be."

"You know how teenagers can be. Exactly how do you know how teenagers can be? Would that be from all of your exposure to teenagers through your job? Could it be from your vast experience raising your own teenagers? Or more accurately, is it Ray's interpretation of how teenagers can be? Because if you are quoting from some bullshit Ray told you let me clarify right here: Ray is an abusive, manipulative, aggressive, and controlling liar so whatever impression he may have given you about MY teenagers and whatever his take on their behavior, you can assume it to be of absolutely zero value. He doesn't know my children for any other purpose than for what use they can be in controlling me. And further, you have crossed the line. You don't mention my kids. They are off limits."

"Wow, I stepped on a nerve." She was so drunk. I remember saying that we just needed to order some food and forget about it. We sat in silence for a while. When I had a moment to consider it, I realized she didn't seem in the least bit interested in the conversation that had just transpired as though she had been spouting garbage from her mouth without even knowing what she was saying. In truth she had hurt my feelings but I hadn't come for idle chatter or companionship. I had come to see her to make sure she was safe, mentally and physically so I could absolve myself of the constant sense of guilt that plagued me since I had set her up with Ray. I needed to change the subject to something more neutral.

"How is the campaign with the Russian progressing? I know you were pretty excited about it the last time we met. I imagine by now he must have fallen head over heels in love with his American public relations manager." Actually, I was thinking about the "old" American PR manager, not this bitchy frump that I didn't know but of course I didn't say so.

It was quiet for a few minutes while I supposed Cindy attempted to compose an answer. "I don't know how else to say it. I don't know what happened. I lost the account; the first time ever. I'm confounded." Her stiff posture dropped visibly as she said this.

"Lost it? What does that mean? How did you lose it? Did they cite a reason? They couldn't just cancel a contract."

"Actually, they could and they did." There were two provisions in the contract for that. One was for cancellation within the 30 day probationary period which is good for all because you never know if you are going to be able to work with someone. The other was a clause that allowed either party to cancel without cause with a 90 day notice. The two clauses are somewhat standard and they protect me as well as my clients. In this case I never even got out of the probationary period. I met this guy and his wife in New York. Well, you know, I told you last time. They loved me. We negotiated a contract. He was in a hurry. We had two televised meetings with his team and mine. I mapped out a tentative schedule and we were set to have another live meeting when I received a certified mail notice from his office cancelling the contract."

"Gosh I'm so sorry. It was all so promising."

"It was. I hadn't had anything that challenging in a while. I was feeling as though I had mastered everything in my field when this call came in. I am still completely baffled as to what happened. I placed several emails and phone calls directly to him and when they weren't answered; I placed more to his staff. The last one was almost a threat with me instructing them on international business protocol. It was ridiculous really. I was trying to get them to tell me what happened by making them think it was inappropriate to cancel my contract without some explanation." It was odd how in the telling of it she seemed to sober up as she spoke.

"Well wasn't it?"

"I wouldn't say inappropriate. More like unusual. It isn't something you would do if you had any respect for the entity you had entered into the contract with but I can't imagine what I could have done or what they could have heard that would cause them to treat me with so little regard or respect. I'm really shook up."

And she literally was. Her hands were trembling and her eyes were glassy. I thought that this moment, explaining this to me, is the first time that the entire gravity of the situation has hit her.

"Is there any possibility you made his wife jealous? I mean did he make a pass at you in front of her?"

"Give me a little credit Penelope. I've been doing this for a long time. I'm not that stupid. I want to go down the street and have a smoke, or leave or something. I am just not feeling well at all."

"Smoke? I've never known you to smoke."

"Christ, I don't need that now."

"Fine. Let's go outside for a smoke. Then let's come back in and get lunch like we planned. I have all afternoon. I have all night if you want. I'll just need to call in sick."

I guess everyone goes through a rough spot now and then but this just didn't smell right. It felt like someone had challenged Gandhi's sincerity in his quest for world peace or as though someone had said we don't want Mother Teresa, we aren't sure of her convictions. Cindy's reputation as a public relations consultant was celebrated. So while Cindy smoked I sat beside her and brought up the St. Claire family's wireless cell phone account page on my phone.

My phone was actually part of Madeline's plan. I had kept it that way for years. It just took one element out of the mix for Ray to screw with. Ray was still on the plan we had signed up for fifteen years earlier. We had just added Eve and Ray2. I navigated to the page that showed usage history. It was hard to scroll through the list of calls on my little phone screen but there was definitely some stuff there that was unusual.

"Cindy, what is the country code for Russia?"

"Uh...I don't know...I think maybe '7'."

I turned my phone and showed it to her. "Do you know what I am looking at?"

She squinted through the smoke and tears, trying to focus.

"Where did you get that?"

"It's a history of calls from Ray's cell phone. Did you ever use his phone for business? For any reason what so ever? Was yours ever out of power or did it lose a signal? Did you pick up his and use it because yours was out of reach or for any other reason?" I was trying to give her every possible reason to consider why three calls to Russia would have been place from Ray's phone. As I spoke, Cindy stared with huge eyes, her head turning slowly, almost imperceptibly, from side to side.

Several minutes passed as she held my phone squinting at the screen and scrolling through the spreadsheet.

"That all of them. I already checked."

"He is going to answer for this. He ruined my life. I'll kill him. I swear I will. I'll kill him. Why would he do that? It doesn't make sense. Afon Ananyev is a fat balding old man. He wasn't any threat to Ray. I can't understand how he is going to explain this."

I let Cindy's mind wander through the entire scenario. I had been through this too many times to count. If I interrupted her thoughts now, her common sense would just allow herself to be talked out of it. I had to let her thoughts run full circle before I helped her move to the next step.

"I am going to go inside and get another beer. Do you want another gin and tonic? And I'll have one of those cigarettes myself when I get back."

*** We stayed at that restaurant for eight hours. During that time I checked Ray's call history again and noticed there weren't any calls to Cindy's phone. I asked her about it and she pulled up an unfamiliar number that she said were calls from Ray. So he had another cell phone. Interesting. I took the number down in case I needed it later. We ended up finally getting lunch and then stayed for happy hour and eventually a late snack before Cindy at last got so tired of grieving about it that she was ready to rest before she began a campaign to refuel. I knew the routine. I felt sorry for her but I knew she was strong. She wasn't young, idealistic and alone, as I had been when I met Ray. She was instead an accomplished, confident, assertive 40 year old. Ray had made a direct hit to her finances, her reputation, and her profession and for once I didn't think he was going to get away with it.

When we exited the restaurant it was pitch dark. Cindy was bombed but it was a good thing. Drinking had brought her back to her old self and she had started opening up and reflecting on what her life had been like those last few months. She hadn't called clients back, she had met with her team only intermittently and they were floundering without direction. She kept saying, "He is not going to get away with this."

### 52) August 2009, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

A week after I met with Cindy in Sacramento, I told Ray I was going to see my mom and left a few clues around that suggested I was lying. He was always checking up on me wanting to find me doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing so I thought fine, I'd give him just what he was looking for and in the process, send him on a joyride.

I told him I would be leaving at about ten o'clock so he could be looking for me and as scheduled I drove west on 50 right past his car lot before turning into a subdivision about a mile further down the road. I climbed the hill four blocks up a steep incline before turning to the left and parking in front of an empty lot where someone had begun building by laying a pad a year previously and then apparently halted construction. The lot had a beautiful view of both the lake and a long stretch of highway 50. I barely got the car parked before I saw Ray tearing down the highway in a Trans Am at about 80 miles an hour. I had planned on calling Cindy's driver who was parked at Ralph's, waiting to hear from me. Cindy had insisted the limo pick me up but I decided to make one other call from my prepaid phone first. I called the police. The station was only about a mile away and Ray was speeding. For once he could expect to live under the same set of rules the rest of the people on earth had to adhere to. Then I called the number for Cindy's driver. I left the key to the Subaru under the front seat and texted Ray2 to let him know he could use it carefully if he so chose. Then I relaxed on the ride to Cindy's taking joy in the thought of how busy Ray would be for the next several days.

*** When the limo pulled up in Cindy's driveway she answered the door completely nude except for her spike heeled shoes, clearly letting the driver see her in the doorway. I stumbled in the house laughing and started to peel off my clothes as well while Cindy continued standing at the door swiveling right and left to give him a view. I am not the free bird that Cindy is so I only made it to my underwear before I did a running cannonball jump into her hot tub.

Cindy's house sat on a ridge with the front facing kitty corner to the neighborhood's gated entryway and the entire back of the house facing the lake. The property dropped steeply below the expansive deck, and backed onto another much lower house that sat directly on the lake. It had three master bedrooms. Two were upstairs and one downstairs. She had so many clothes, shoes and accessories that they filled the closets of both the bedroom she slept in and that of the second upstairs master bedroom as well.

Within a few hours of being dropped off by the limo driver, Madeline and Dawn had shown up. Dawn's SUV was parked in the garage next to Cindy's and I was grabbing a shower getting ready to choose something to wear out for drinks and dinner. Madeline and I were staying in the upstairs second master. When I exited the bathroom I found Cindy, Dawn and Madeline all crowded deep in the recess of the closet, actually on the far side of a second doorway. They were seriously concentrating on something beyond my line of sight.

I pushed back some of the clothes to crowd in with them asking, "What's so fascinating?" And stopped dead when I saw what they were looking at. There was a monitor mounted on the wall in a very small alcove, in the back of the closet. It changed scenes about every thirty seconds alternating between various views of the area surrounding Cindy's house. One of the cameras was apparently providing a zoom view of the community entrance gate across the street. There was Ray, sitting in a black Hummer, entering codes into the call box. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

I backed out of the closet and started pacing. What is he doing here? I thought for sure he was headed out of town to follow me. Could it be that he was actually thinking of Cindy instead of chasing me? Was my plan actually working? Immediately my thoughts lead to the possibility that by being here I might be sabotaging my first ever hope of getting rid of Ray's obsession with me. My heart was racing so quickly I started hyperventilating. I couldn't think fast enough. I went back into the closet.

All three of them were still heavily concentrating on the screen. They didn't even know I was there. Everyone seemed to grasp the seriousness of the situation for which I was grateful.

"How did you know he was there?" I asked.

"He dialed the house for entry. I didn't pick up but the receiver is on speaker and when someone calls you can hear it. I came up here to take a look and there he is."

"He can't get in." put in Madeline.

"Yes he can. I can see what he is doing. He is calling house numbers asking people to let him in, probably saying he forgot his electronic opener or saying it isn't working or something. Somebody is going to be sucker enough to let him in."

"We just won't answer the door."

"What if he goes around back?"

"Quick, lets close up the drapes now!"

"There aren't any drapes on the window wall. Why would there be. Nobody can see in unless they are on a boat with a telescope or on the roof of the house on the lake below."

"This is creeping me out."

"He got in! He got in!" screamed Dawn.

"Will you shut the fuck up!"

"I'm going down there. He doesn't know who I am."

"Shut up Dawn. You aren't going anywhere. I swear I will tackle you. You have no idea who you are messing with. This is not a game. People can get hurt. I can get hurt. Stay the fuck out of it!"

"God, calm down Penelope. You are such a bitch. He has no business being here. I can just say I am a house guest. I want to see what he wants."

I jumped on Dawn. Madeline and Cindy pulled me off as I was pulling at her robe and kicking her. Madeline guided me to lie down on the bed and told Cindy to stay with me. She was going to get her bag. Drugs, I was sure. I talked to Cindy as though Dawn couldn't hear me saying that she couldn't go down there, that it was dangerous to screw with Ray. Cindy just kept saying calm down and before Madeline got back, the doorbell rang.

I ran to the closet and sure enough there in a shot of the front entryway was Ray. Beautiful Ray. He looked so concerned. What a snake. And just as I was thinking that he looked up and started talking. It was like watching a badly dubbed movie. I could feel Cindy's presence behind me as I watched his lips moving on the screen and could vaguely hear him talking. I looked at Cindy and Madeline. Madeline pushed me out of the way and went to the bedroom door quiet as a mouse. What we were hearing was Ray at the front door talking to Dawn. The noise wasn't coming through the security monitors it was coming straight in the house. That bimbo had answered the door.

I crawled into a corner in the security room closet and drew my knees up to my chest. Cindy stood frozen in front of the monitors and Madeline stood at the door to the upstairs hallway, listening.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dawn came upstairs all flushed and excited. She had her bathrobe falling open so you could see her lacy underwear crotch and her braless cleavage. "He kept asking if he could come in and wait! I put my hands on my hips and showed him what he was missing!"

Somehow I got to the bed and curled up on into a fetal position. Madeline gave me water and a pill and Cindy got me a drink. The whole time Dawn was strutting around the bedroom with her hand on her hips going, "You want some of this big man? You want some of this?" While cupping her hands under her boobs and grabbing her crotch and thrusting her hips forward like the rap singers do.

I laid back and tried to regulate my breathing. Cindy sat on the bed with me and Madeline paced, periodically talking to Cindy, trying to sort things out, and all the while Dawn put on her obscene show. We were a motley crew then; the first friends I had really ever had. Cindy the jet setter, Madeline the psychologist, me the dysfunctional victim and Dawn the fool. When the sedative I had taken kicked in, I realized I had been upset for no reason. Ray was gone and there wasn't anything to worry about. We drank and partied all night laughing at ourselves and laughing at Ray.

### 53) September 2009, Lake Tahoe

When I got back home from those three days at Cindy's I started considering she and Ray might be better suited companions than she and I. I was completely wiped out. I wanted a quiet life and it was beginning to seem like I wasn't destined to get it with or without Ray. Cindy was just as bad as Ray with the partying and chaos. Worse ever, since Cindy was refusing Ray's calls until she figured out how she was going to deal with him, he was home and all over me and the kids.

I no sooner got back from Cindy's then Ray was hell bent on going camping in Yosemite. WTF? I had a week long hangover from the sedatives and alcohol and I had to work. I told him he would have to pack everything up and get all the supplies. He asked if I had a rough time at the nursing home with my mom. I knew that he knew I wasn't there but we had a different relationship then. He was aware I was dealing from a stronger position and it was keeping him somewhat in check.

What I couldn't control at that time was his getting all over me, morning, noon and night. If he didn't have Cindy to crawl all over, then it was going to be me. I could literally feel the leash he had wrapped around me tightening. Within twenty four hours I began to regret having shown her that phone record at all. I had to keep reminding myself that I couldn't have let him destroy her.

Over the next month or so, Cindy texted me once and called me twice. I texted her but I didn't call her back. I was on the road to recovery and the drama she had going on was just too much for me. I didn't want to see her for a while. I had gone straight from getting worn out emotionally at her house to getting jumped on by Ray, to the camping trip, and back home to more Ray, Ray, Ray, until I needed a break. Those days my mind wandered to Canada. I knew I should be thinking about a new book or series to work on but there was extra money rolling in on its own. I had agreed Madeline should sign the contract with the publisher for e-publishing. I wasn't interested in learning the computer end of the business and doing it myself so when they solicited her for those rights as well, I readily agreed. There was a much higher payout on e-books and it was looking like I was going to make far more than I had on the hard copies. I could buy a safe new life for Eve and me and help finance Ray2's college as well. I had never thought of myself as being greedy so when the money started getting bigger faster, it surprised me to realize I was becoming more and more covetous of it, and with that, more and more worried about losing it.

Naturally, since I now had the money, my thoughts would regularly roll around to leaving. I would try to explore the concept by attempting to visualize different possible scenarios. There would be ones in which I would hook up a trailer hitch to the Subaru and load all of my belongings and the precious things I had recently collected and Eve and Ray2 and I would take the whole summer to drive through towns and see the world while we made our way to Canada. Then there would be thoughts about how we would steal away in the middle of the night with just a couple of suitcases each and disappear without anything to tie us down. I thought about leaving at the Christmas break and alternatively, I thought of leaving at the end of the school year.

I spoke to Ray2 about it and he had definite ideas about wanting to finish out high school in Tahoe. He said he was just not going to interject another move in between now and when he went off to college. I could see his point. He would be filing out the rest of his applications within a week and his thoughts were to his own future which I knew was right and good but it still hurt, never the less. Thinking about life without Ray2 around was hard. I had always pictured I would right our course long before my children were adults but I realized I had failed in that. I supposed he must have sensed my thoughts because he pushed for the next hour that he needed to see Eve and me safe and out before he would feel free to go himself. He urged that I consider going with Eve at Christmas. He wanted to go live with a friend who lived in the basement of his parent's large home for the remainder of the school year. I was satisfied to leave it at that; to think about this new plan and visualize how it would play out. I thought maybe Christmas would be good. Ray2 would have just a semester left and Eve would have a year and half in a high school before she graduated. Maybe I could see if Ray2 would like to apply to a college or two near the Canadian border. Eve would never rest if I told her I was making plans to leave. She would be on me like her father, trying to get me to leave that day, that hour, that moment, never satisfied until she was driving the move herself. So I kept thoughts of it to myself until I felt I had covered all my bases.

Throughout this time Ray could not leave the issue of my hair alone. "Why did you cut it, why did you cut it, why did you cut it?" Ev-er-y-day. "I just don't understand. It was fine before. You had it the same way for twenty years. People don't just wake up and change one day. It doesn't make sense. Have you got a new boyfriend? I'll know if you start painting your toe nails." He went on and on and on. "I don't like it. Who are you trying to impress? Have you got some money you are just dying to throw away that I don't know about? First the table, then the couch, then the quilts on the beds, then you start going out to eat more often, and then this, your hair. You don't think I notice these things but I do." The whole time Ray was circling me, occasionally running his hands up through my shoulder length hair. It made my skin crawl the way he would recite every move I had made over the last six months as though he was keeping a registry. I would not turn this into a fight. I would not feed this. I would not let him see me get angry. I was going to leave and it would be better to save my strength to plan. In the past this was how Ray had controlled me. He kept me so exhausted from defending myself that I couldn't plan, but it wouldn't work this time. I was older and wiser now; I wouldn't be maneuvered, though a small part of me regretted losing the distraction Cindy had been providing. I knew then I should have left that summer. I had wasted valuable time wallowing in complacency and worrying about Cindy. "Look to the future", I chanted. It was three months till Christmas break. 90 days. I could do it.

The hardest part through all of this was dealing with Ray touching me. I would object for days, even weeks, but I couldn't put him off forever. He would go into a tirade and keep it going for days until I acquiesced or expired from exhaustion. I hated those times and hated myself for submitting. Laying there I would dream of a life without him and then when he was finished, when I was curled up by myself I would do as I had learned to do to confirm my autonomy I would take control of my body and with my thoughts alone, make myself come.

Right about then Ray started talking about moving to San Francisco. He went on about how the opportunities there were so much greater, about how I could be closer to my mom and Madeline and how there were plenty of colleges there for Ray2 to go to and how Ray2 could live at home and go to college without having to worry about getting a job to pay rent. Dream on, I thought. Somehow how he knew. He knew I was thinking about leaving. He could feel it and he was trying to get the jump on me. Talk about this became his new obsession and he drove me nuts with it. I thought I would lose my mind until one day; finally, I caught a break. He said he had to go out of town for a car auction and I thanked my lucky stars. I prayed to the Gods, thanking them for this and acknowledging my gratitude.

*** My mind was on Canada and I had barely caught my breath while Ray was away before I started thinking about needing to return Cindy's calls. I felt I had jacked her around a bit and thoughts of pulling my life together and leaving were making me feel generous. While I attributed a good deal of my strength to Ray2 and Eve becoming less dependent, it was also true that I owed a great deal to Cindy. As a child, since my father died, I had had to take on so much responsibility that I suppose I never had time for friends. I had had Madeline and Natalie and my mom for companionship and was probably much too serious of a child to attract playmates anyway. After that I had been so determined and busy with high school and college and working to pay my debt that I couldn't let relationships get in the way of my duties. Then there was Ray. When a mate should have provided a safety net so that we shared expenses and workloads leaving more opportunity to become participants in a larger community, he instead proved a steady drain on my productivity. It was all I could do to survive.

As an adult, I was not a good friend to Madeline. I was needy and she was there when I needed. The first real just plain friendship I had had, since I was ten years old was Cindy, and when I was feeling magnanimous, Dawn as well. If I just moved on and didn't feed that friendship I would be allowing circumstances in my life to frame my experiences rather than driving my ship myself so I decided then I would keep my friends and maybe even someday, when I was safe, have them to Canada for a crazy weekend of fun. So while Ray was gone I called Cindy.

I was so full of myself that I guess I expected her to be sitting around waiting for me to call. She had always been so anxious to get together but I didn't hear from her for a good two weeks before I got a short voicemail from her saying she was busy. It didn't sound particularly warm or friendly and I wondered if she was stressed about work or if I had delayed too long in getting ahold of her, taking her for granted while I wallowed in my independence. I didn't give up though. While I played my scenarios out about leaving and where and when I would go, I included my friends in my plans for the rest of my life, and I liked it. I even got so that I emailed Dawn now and then. She over did it with the responses but that was Dawn and I decided I liked that too.

While I was free to dream and plan for the future, I was not able to organizing my things and my house in preparation for the life ahead of me. That would be tantamount to leaving a road map for Ray so I satisfied myself with making list upon list that I kept in an online file I accessed from my phone which I kept so close that it would be hard to imagine being able to pry it from my fingers were I to die that day.

### 54) Fall 2008, South Lake Tahoe, California Side

In late September Ray seemed to have caught his stride. He was flush with a few dollars and thankfully went to another two auctions. I was glad he was tied up because I was by then I had settled on December as a time for leaving and I wanted to devote my every free moment to that end. I was looking forward to a new kind of Christmas; one that would speak of a new beginning. I might even start the trip by heading west and stopping to see my mom and Madeline for the holidays.

Throughout September and October I continued to try Cindy as I wanted to spend some time connecting with her before we left and the time remaining seemed incredibly short. I never knew when she might be scheduled to leave town or when Ray might lock me in some nonsense that wouldn't allow for us to meet. When I finally did get ahold of her she was in a mood but I decided we would work our way through it. I insisted she meet me, telling her I wouldn't take no for an answer. I even chose The Roundup where we had met at that first great outing I had had with her before she moved up to Tahoe. I was hoping the reminder would put her in a good mood.

That evening Cindy was 45 minutes late and I could tell right away that she was a little more than "in a mood" as I had originally assessed. Her body language shouted "combat" as she sat with her arms and legs crossed, the double gin and tonic in front of her and her eyes looking everywhere but at me. I thought "What now?" Could it be that the reason I was attracted to her was that I liked this volatile, chaotic personally? No. I hated it. I hated the thought that I was going to have to work my way through this to determine what the problem was, though in the end it actually didn't take any time at all. In fact, it turned out; I should have known.

When I asked how work was, what was going on with her, the first words out of her mouth were "I'm seeing Ray again."

When I didn't respond and sat there looking at her dumbfounded, pressured by the silence, she continued. "He said they called him because they were investigating me, checking up me, before they employed me."

"Checking up on you? Are you insane? I showed you those calls Cindy. Those were OUT GOING calls! You were already employed! Did that slip your mind?"

"He said he was returning their calls."

"To RUSSIA!? I repeat, are you insane? You can't like him so much that you are willing to let him destroy your life. Speak to me Cindy. He WILL destroy you. I admit now; I used you. Ray is dangerous. I should never have set you up. I was just so desperate, but I am sorry now. It was a horrible thing to do. Do you want me to bring back up that call list and see if we can locate any calls that could possibly be from anyone who might have been calling him for a reference? It's not possible and besides, what are these Russians, master spies? How in the hell did they know about Ray? How in the hell would they have gotten his phone number. It is just so stupid."

I was quiet then. The more I ranted the deeper I dug the divide between us. She didn't want to hear this. She knew what I was saying was true but it was me she would alienate, not Ray. My silence worked. At least she started talking again.

"He said he set the whole deal up in the first place. He said he had been in the fish import business a few years ago and when he heard Afon was looking to expand his export numbers in the U.S. he forwarded him my web address and the url to my portfolio."

That was Ray all right. Sprinkle a big lie with a little truth. Sometime between Reno and Tahoe, Ray had unsuccessfully attempted to transport oysters from the Gulf of Mexico to Sacramento. I was pretty sure he hadn't been in touch with any Russian export companies for that joke of an enterprise.

I leaned into her and told her I was really glad she was able to make it and that I didn't want our friendship to suffer because she had made the decision to continue seeing Ray. She straightened up into a formal position and looked at me rather mechanically. It made me straighten up as well.

"What's wrong? Let's just start all over. Forget I ever said anything."

Her eyes remained fixed on the wall behind me, tapping all four fingers of one hand on the table in front of her. "I am not going to be able to stay long. He's expecting to see me tonight."

"Okay, but don't be mad. Let's not ruin the whole evening over this."

"It's just that all we ever talk about is Ray like that is all we have in common. That is no relationship at all. I thought you wanted to be rid of him but all you do is talk about him."

"You are absolutely right. I spent a decade being angry with him and finding reasons to blame him. It is probably hard for me to let it go. I do want to talk about something else. I love your business. It is the antithesis to anything I would ever do. I would be in the business of instructing people on how to hide or become incognito and you are in the business of promoting them. I really admire that. Have you gotten any new high profile clients I can brag about? I live through your exploits vicariously. Maybe I should write a book about it. I mean a book about a woman who lives through her friend's accomplishments vicariously."

"Um...no one I think you would be interested in." The fingers we now tapping at the space between her collar bones. I had never known her to have a tick.

She was making it very difficult for me and I was suddenly tired of the whole sham. She was 40 years old I kept telling myself. Babysitting a full grown, mobile, financially independent, fully functioning, accomplished woman was too hard. I wanted to go home.

"I'm finished here. It looks like there isn't anything I can do to repair the evening. I just have a few things I'd like to say.

First of all, I can't emphasize enough how little your relationship with Ray means to me. I swear to you that all I care about is you. Second, I am sorry I used you. Please accept my apology. I feel responsible which is why I am compelled to warn you that no good can come of this. Ray is a menace.

Finally, I would like to remind you that you don't want Ray finding out about our little game. I can tell you from experience, you do not ever want to make the mistake of slipping and share it with him, thinking you will laugh about it together. Please remember there is more involved here than just you. You would do well to bury all thoughts and traces of our relationship. Since you don't seem interested in communicating with me, it shouldn't be too hard. He would not take it well if he knew we played him. He would be very, very angry.

With that I sadly left my friend at the table. On my ride home I took responsibility. I didn't blame the loss on Ray. I did it. It was my fault and I would have to live with it. And when I was done accepting blame, I knew I would look back on our friendship and smile. It was time I made my way to Canada.

### 55) November, South Lake Tahoe, Nevada Side

"He knows, Penelope, he knows..."

I was in the employee lounge at Harrahs at 2:00 in the morning listening to a voicemail from Cindy. My phone showed she had called me eight times.

"One moment he was talking about my ass and the next he asks, 'When is the last time you spoke to Penelope?' It floored me. His tone of voice changed so quickly. He is on his way over here. I don't want to see him but I feel like he's going to get more pissed off if I don't. I wish you would pick up the God damned phone, Penelope. Have you just checked out completely for God's sake?" As the message rambled on and on I could feel a cold sweat coming over me.

"...He did NOT sound sweet. I don't know what the hell to do. He said he was going to bring..." The message timed out. He's going to bring what? What is he going to bring I wondered? And then I checked myself. I was filling my head with useless repetitive nonsense while I tried to avoid concentrating on what Cindy might be up against. She sounded so frantic that I could feel my blood run cold. I had told her. I had told her. I had told her and now it was my problem all over again.

My fingers and the phone screen seemed to move in slow motion as I pushed the return call command on my phone. It rang five times and went to voicemail as a terrible sense of foreboding came over me. Cindy's call had come in at 11:54, close to two hours earlier. What had happened in that time? I was working the 11 to 7 shift and imagined Ray would have been making plans right about the time he felt I was comfortably seated at my work post for the night. But what kind of plans was the question. There was only one reason he would reveal to Cindy that he knew about our relationship. He was finished with her.

I stared at the phone as it asked me to leave a message at the sound of the beep. I hung up. I needed to get over there but I didn't want Ray to have any warning. How could I relieve her but not alert him? I push her number continually while I searched for my boss. I found her and told her I was sick and that I needed to go home. It wasn't a lie. I was sick. I felt as though I was going to throw up topped off by the tennis ball sized knot in my sternum that was restricting my breathing.

I dropped my keys twice and skidded and slipped on the icy pavement as I made my way toward my car. It had been alternately raining and freezing which caused the worst kind of road conditions. I careened out onto the lakefront highway, fishtailing and sliding into the crawling traffic. There shouldn't have been anyone out at that time of night. There must have been some kind of accident that had caused the back up. The alternate route around to the north side of the lake would add a minimum of an hour and a half onto the time it would take me to reach Cindy's house. My anxiety peeked to record levels before I remembered to attempt deep breathing to control it.

Circular, corrosive, thoughts churned through my brain as I pressed redial on my phone with one hand and steadied the steering wheel with the other. I did not want this to go the way it had with Karen. Ray didn't have one tenth the amount invested in Karen that he had in Cindy and he had somehow made her disappear. What would he do to Cindy? I hated to think of it. Still, Ray didn't fit the classic mold of a physical abuser. He had raised his hand to both Ray2 and I in drunken anger but he wasn't a perpetual beater. He liked to mutilate people with corruption. It gave me some comfort to believe he might be exercising a slow psychological torture on Cindy and that maybe I had some time before he gave her the worst of it.

I decided to leave Cindy a voice mail. After all, Ray knew. Why not both let Cindy know that I had heard her message and at the same time give Ray the idea I was securely positioned at work? I felt shaky doing it. I had rarely been successful at out maneuvering Ray though I felt not doing anything might be tantamount to a death sentence. I was killing myself with fear and anxiety.

It was 3 am before I reached the entrance to Cindy's community. By that time I had worked my anger up to a fevered pitch. I was going to go in there while he was working on her and throw a fit. This would be the end of it. I would tell him it was over. We were finished. Cindy could carry on as she pleased but this would end my responsibility to her and sever my ties with Ray as well. I would be a free woman.

There were only a few low level lights on in the landscaping around the gate. Everything else was pitch dark with the exception of a spattering of light from undetermined sources deep in the subdivision. I only knew the service entry code which wasn't going to work at 3 am. I rolled up to the gate and tried it anyway as I peered at Cindy's house. I hadn't thought ahead as to how I would get in. I didn't want to warn Ray by buzzing the house so the only thing I could do was to park the car and climb the gate. I hoped to God there weren't any alarms.

I had a treacherous bitch of a time trying to back the Subaru back up the short steep driveway and out into the road. Three cars waited on me as I made the awkward move and then sat there trying to decide where to park. There wasn't a single roadside parking space. I ended up driving a mile in each direction looking for a space before I went back to the gate entrance and parked at a dangerous angle halfway into the driveway and halfway into the road. I was exhausted even before I approached the gate, knowing I was going to have to climb it. It reminded me of times when the kids were younger and Ray would come home so ripped I would have to crawl around in the dark outside after running away. Remembering that and how far I had come gave me a sense of strength.

The gate was secured at the sides into rock and mountain formations so I climbed one of them and just as I found footing at the top, unintentionally slipped down the other side at such a rate that I slid three feet into the street before I was able to stop myself. My hands and heels and elbows and butt were bruised and scraped and sore. I must have banged my head on something as well. I sat where I landed for a few moments, across the street from Cindy's house, curious that my ordeal hadn't interrupted the still night and even more curious as to why there wasn't a single light on in her house.

I tread lightly across the street and up to Cindy's front door and knocked. There was no answer. The sound of my knuckles on the heavy wood carried and echoed in the cold night air. I knocked again and again, progressively harder and harder. It was impossible for anyone to be inside without hearing it. I stood on my tip toes and cupped my hands to my eyes to look in the bottom corner of one of one of the front windows and as I did so I noticed my hands were pretty scraped up, both bruised and bleeding. I hadn't noticed since they were frozen and I was distracted but I had really hurt myself. Feeling sorry for I calmed me a bit and I proceeded to look in the window but didn't see a single light on. There was only a faint glow from what I guessed to be the moon on the lake shining through the back wall of windows into the living room.

I was totally perplexed. It didn't seem possible that they would have gone somewhere together given the tone in Cindy's voicemail. That wouldn't be like Ray. He didn't see women to dress them up and take them out somewhere for entertainment. The women themselves were the entertainment and I didn't think Ray would have missed this show for world. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and pressed the call button again. I had called so many times that it was only ringing twice before going to voicemail. I wished I could make it ring and then listen to see if I could hear it but I suspected Cindy's new monster of a house was solid and tightly built. There wouldn't be any "listening through the walls".

I was running out of options. After about ten minutes of alternately knocking and waiting for a response, I decided to try circling the house to see if there was a light on in either of the master bedrooms. There had been record amounts of early snow fall that year and treading through it was laborious and dangerous. The house was perched on a steep incline where the ground fell away as you approached the back and nothing would be done to remove it over the winter. It would just pile up snow fall after snow fall. I sometimes sank up to my waist and I knew I risked sinking above my head before I reached the stairs but I was determined. Thoughts of a final confrontation with Ray drove me – one where his denials would fall on deaf ears. Cindy would be right there to confirm it all. I couldn't fathom that I had come all this way and no one would come to the door.

My foot hit a barrier in the deep snow that I recognized to be the top of the short fence that closed off the bottom of the deck stairs. The first ten or so stairs were covered in snow but I could see the top of the set rise out of the snow pack. I clumsily climbed them and reached the huge deck that spanned the back of the house. I felt very exposed in the moon light but didn't know what I was hiding from. I cupped my aching hands around my face and put my nose up to the glass doors. I couldn't see a thing. It was scary. I was half expecting to see Ray's face pressed against the other side of the glass when I did it. That would be just like him to watch every move I made and counter it. Then I heard the sound of a garage door opening and quiet car running and then the garage door moving again. WTF – that was Cindy's garage! I banged on the glass really hard about ten times and then I slid across the deck which must have had a heater on it earlier in the day as there had been snow but it had melted and then froze at some point. I trampled down the stairs and struggled to run back up the snow filled steep incline to the street side of the house. It was a battle and by the time I reached the street it was quiet and there wasn't a car in sight. I was shaking in my boots, absolutely livid. Jesus Christ I was enraged! It was then that I remembered the key. Cindy had given me a key over six months ago when we were still good friends. I wish I had thought of it earlier, before I had announced my arrival. Where was the damn thing? I had a vague recollection of having slid it behind my driver license in my wallet at the time. Was it still there or had I removed it during a routine cleaning?

*** With a new sense of purpose, I clumsily ran back to the gate and climbed up over it. I was just priding myself at how agile I was when I was yanked back mid-flight in a jump from the top of the gate to the street level. The trim on my coat had caught and temporarily clotheslined me before ripping. The jerk threw my jump off and I landed yet again on the freezing pavement. I was a total mess. It was a struggle trudging the ten or fifteen paces uphill back to the car and an even greater struggle trying to open the door at the strangely steep angle I had positioned it. I moved into the driver's seat to rest a bit before my frozen hands found the purse in the dark and began to riffle through it in search of my wallet. Slipping my fingers in behind the license I dug deeper and deeper, back and forth but it wasn't there. All of the wind and energy left my sails and I leaned my head on the steering wheel in exhaustion. My head hurt, my hands hurt, my butt hurt and I was going to have to face the fact that someone, one of them or both of them, had left and there might not be anyone there to confront anyway. It was probably better there wasn't a key. I didn't think I could have made it back over the fence. I rested for what seemed like eternity before I turned the key in the ignition and decided to ring Cindy's house phone in one last attempt to get in. Maybe Ray had left and she would answer but it rang endlessly in the otherwise silent night.

I drove at a snail's pace south on the lake front highway, back toward home. I didn't even care that I was the asshole I usually cursed for holding up traffic. I had no idea where I was going. I did not, for all the world, want to go home and see Ray just to be told I was hallucinating.

The car just sort of gravitated to the Ralphs parking lot. The snow was falling lightly but steadily as I breathed deeply trying to find some of the contentment I had realized in past months. When I thought about it I felt separated from it as though that was a different person and a different life and I was here, at Ralphs, back in my old life, the shitty one. Just to celebrate the here and now, I decided to dig in the glove compartment to find some cigarettes. After all, wasn't that what I did when I went to Ralphs to ponder life?

There weren't any so I went inside to pick some up and a newspaper and magazine as well. I noted I was back to watching what the stars did with their lives rather than home decorating. So much had changed with that one phone call. That was what Ray did. He pulled the carpet out from under me and shook it. I knew I was allowing him to do it but I couldn't seem to break the cycle. As I stood at the checkout counter facing a clerk I didn't recognize I realized I wasn't as worried about Cindy's fate as I was about mine.

I spent the next hour or two alternately smoking and reading, reflecting and sleeping before a plow woke me, circling the car. It was 6:45 and I would have to head home soon. Ray2 and Eve would need a way to get to school and I needed to both confront Ray and get back to Cindy's house – with the key this time – if I could find it. I spent the last half hour steeling myself in anticipation of nailing Ray.

### 56) November, 2009 South Lake Tahoe

Would I like some coffee?" I stood there and stupidly repeated it in amazement. Ray offering me a cup of coffee? It had never happened. Ray making pancakes? It had never happened. "What do you mean, would I like some coffee? Where is Cindy, Ray?"

Ray was standing at the stove in our kitchen with my apron on and an egg turner in his hand.

"I have no idea, Pen. You aren't making any sense. 'Would you like some coffee' means... 'Would you like some coffee?' No trick there. You are a mess and you seem awfully upset. Did you get in an accident? Did something happen at work? Did you get fired?"

"Aren't we smart Ray? Did I get fired? No Ray, they fucking made me CEO today."

Paused, eyebrows raised, smirk on his lips, "...can I get you something to calm you down? Would you like some pancakes or a valium maybe? How about a warm shower?"

He was so unnervingly calm it made me irate. "I don't need any god damn coffee or pancakes or valium or a shower, Ray. I asked where Cindy was."

"And I said I have no idea what you are talking about, Pen. I can see you had a rough night. You look like you got in a fight with a barbed wire fence. What happened to your coat?"

Don't think I am fooled by the apron the pancakes and the ridiculous domestic scene here. Where in the FUCK is Cindy?

Eve hunched down over her plate shoveling pancakes in her mouth like there was no tomorrow.

"I don't know where you get off coming in here and yelling at everybody. You need to get ahold of yourself girl. Just because you got yourself into a little trouble last night doesn't mean you can come in here and terrorize us. We don't need the drama. - Eve, go get ready for school and tell Ray2 he's got some pancakes coming up."

"I don't want to. I'm not finished with my pancakes."

"I didn't ask you if you wanted to. I TOLD you to. Now get out of here."

Eve deliberately, as slow as molasses, pushed her plate away and stood glaring at her father. "Mom, come with me. Its picture day and I want you to help me pick out something to wear."

Ray stood with a sinister smile on his face holding out a plate of pancakes as if to dare me to issue this. It took everything I had not to knock it out of his hands. So this was the way he was going to play it. Fine. I didn't have time for his shit. I was completely done with him. I was going to get Cindy and the three of us were going to have a little pow wow.

I turned and followed Eve up the stairs.

"You are burning the pancakes Ray. Ray2 doesn't eat them anyway."

I sounded so brave but alone up in my bedroom, searching for the key, the panic set in again. What had that son of a bitch done to Cindy? I needed to get back there and see her...and what would I find when I did? I couldn't go on like this; Ray standing there in my apron as though he owned my house and my life. I didn't know if I was more worried about Cindy or frantic with realization that I wasn't ever going to rid myself of Ray.

I went straight to my nightstand and slid the bottom drawer out and there was the key sitting on the bottom of the cabinet along with the copies of the applications for passport cards for the three of us. I picked it up and buried it in my pocket.

I was fine as long as I was either moving or arguing. As soon as I had to stop and wait for Ray2 and Eve to get ready for school I started getting anxious. It seemed as though it took them forever. They naturally didn't like the change in schedule. Normally after working all night I would go to bed and Ray2 would take the car to school but today I needed it. I had to listen to the rhetoric from Ray2 about why I couldn't have given him some warning and why this and why that which sounded like a dull buzz in my head. I wanted to get over to Cindy's and everything seemed destined to stand in the way of my intent.

On the way to school Eve announced I had to pay the office for the pictures because she hadn't turned the paperwork in. I didn't even answer her. I threw forty bucks at her and told her to do it but she argued she would be late for class if she did and she already had a citation for too many tardies which prompted more rhetoric. I felt like throwing them out of the car as I sat and waited in the endless drop off line after which I had to circle the school and sit in another line to park and go in and get in another line at the office to pay for the pictures, the whole time fuming about how I could have taken the god damn pictures myself, but there was the yearbook and they wouldn't be in it, etc., etc. I couldn't win.

It was close to nine o'clock before I was back on the lake shore highway headed for Cindy's behind yet another long line of traffic. By the time I got back to Cindy's the service code was operational and there was a car in her driveway with peeling vinyl letters that said "Costa Cleaning Services" on the back window. I climbed the stairs for probably the fifth time in as many hours and knocked hard on the door but got no answer. I took out my key and inserted it feeling the bolt slide out of the lock position as I did so. I slowly pressed my thumb on the latch handle and pushed the door open into the front hallway. I could hear a motor buzzing somewhere. "Cindy? CINDY? Are you home?" No answer. I felt really uncomfortable invading her privacy. We had been off again, on again friends and I didn't know if I was overstepping boundaries. But what could she have expected from me when she called? She was a pistol but I didn't think of her as a drama queen. She genuinely sounded desperate and in need of help.

As I entered the hallway I saw myself in the full length mirror hanging to the right and was shocked. I hadn't thought to straighten myself out. The people at the school must have thought I was crazed. I tried to smooth my hair down but it was sticky and my head was sore. I could feel a large bump on it. I must have cut it when I hit the pavement earlier. The elbow of my coat was shredded and the back was ripped. I looked like an idiot. Eve had tried to tell me but the declarations were so buried in all of the rest of the diatribe that it hadn't registered. Well it was too late to fix it now.

I called "Cindy" over and over as I crossed the front hall and living room looking in open doors but not seeing any sign of her or a purse or in fact any sign that she was occupying the place at all. As I was looking I realized there weren't any recognizable personal objects in the home. I hadn't notice that before. No pictures, no discarded work shoes, no mail. Some might be attributed to the maid service but still you would think she would have brought personal items from her last home or picked up something here or there to mark her new home as hers.

There was no sign of Cindy anywhere. I could hear the vacuum going somewhere upstairs. The house was obscenely big and I could imagine the maid was so buried in it somewhere she couldn't hear me though I was yelling and had banged on the door repeatedly. I climbed the stairs and turned toward the sound of the vacuum to find the maid with her head phones on vacuuming her way out of the second master bedroom. I assumed Cindy was in her own room and proceed down the hall to her room which had the door just an inch or so ajar. Funny she hadn't heard me calling. Could she possibly not be here? Where on earth would she have gone in the middle of the night? It crossed my mind to wonder if she were loose enough to pick someone up in a bar at 2 or 3 in the morning and go home with them. That would be disgusting...And as I thought it I realized I was looking at the two cheeks of Cindy's ass. It was odd she wouldn't mind someone seeing her like that and it was sort of cold in the room. Why didn't she cover herself up? As I approached her I thought how awkward she looked and remembered an art term I had learned called "contrapposto" describing Greek statues with their hips turned in a particular manner away from their shoulders. Nothing about her position looked natural and her eyes were shiny and wide open, staring at the ceiling. I called to her as I approached expecting her to say "shhhh" as though I shouldn't interrupt but she didn't.

As I leaned toward her I noticed the scarf, my scarf, squeezed so tight around her neck that the skin was bulging above it and below it. I felt my knees buckle and dropped to the floor beside the bed. I must have been screaming because I sensed the maid behind me and heard her screaming as though through a tunnel and then the sound faded and just my screaming for a time before it stopped and there was silence. My head hurt and it was cloudy. I held the banister and slid down a few of the carpeted stairs before I righted myself and just made it to the tile in the kitchen to throw up. I hadn't ever seen a "newly" dead body before.

 Ray's dad and Eve - Just like Ray he would never be caught on camera though in the little we saw of him he seemed much kinder and gentler than Ray. I remember thinking Ray must have taken after his mother and what a peach she must have been.

The house in Henderson

Eldorado County Jail

Eve and Ray2 waiting while we pack up for yet another move.

Sean Dorsey and Ray caught on camera looking like two peas in a pod.

### 57) December 2009, South Lake Tahoe

They knocked on the door at 2 in the afternoon; a woman and a man in casual business attire, very local Lake Tahoe looking. In another life they might have been my friends. They asked if I was Penelope St. Claire and then told me they had some questions they would like to ask me. I knew this was coming. I had answered questions for nearly eleven hours following the discovery of the body but I knew that wouldn't be the end of it.

"Let me call my lawyer."

I really liked Tahoe; more than any other place we had been. I remember thinking those cops didn't want to be there, hassling me. We were all three of us, parts of a community that operated symbiotically and they were cautious about disrupting that community or the possibility of offending any member of it, unjustly or without cause.

When they left I cried hard and long. For the first time in 25 years I had a community. Before that day I hadn't allowed myself to see that. Subconsciously I knew that had I acknowledged it and it was then taken from me, the disappointment would be profound.

I liked the two ladies who ran the consignment shop. I liked Monica, I liked Carol and Leslie and Joe and Julian at work. I liked the manager at Ralphs that had had hired Ray2 and I liked the gorgeous young couple that had screened Eve so thoroughly before they adopted her as the only person they would trust to sit for their dogs. I loved my little ancient yoga group, the soccer moms, the coaches, two of Ray2's new friends and one of Eve's old ones she had grown away from. I even liked the two cops that came to the door. The list could go on.

When the tears dried up I stood and walked through the small cabin style house we had moved to just a year ago. I loved it. It was old. It had been built with little regard for the cold winter. There was a porch across the back which likely was originally open. Someone had closed it in to enlarge the central living space in an attempt to keep up with newly built homes surrounding it which had progressively doubled and tripled in size since this place had been built. The porch area had a thirty foot wall of old wood framed windows that hadn't been replaced with the aluminum frame, double pane, energy efficient, insulation models so many of the other homes had.

I had dreamed of owning it. It had a filtered view of the lake which was only available to us because most of the locals wouldn't sign a lease on a place so poorly insulated given the brutality of the winters at Lake Tahoe. I had found the house and for the first time in twenty years, signed the lease myself before turning the monthly bill over to Ray. There was no sense in the way we were doing it with my handing him most of my paycheck and the rent bill instead of paying it myself but it was less trouble to keep things the way they had always been. It was enough just knowing that I could pay the rent independently, no matter what our joint financial condition appeared to be. Ray and I had kept the wood stove packed all winter and it was quite cozy. Ray2 and Eve had to leave their bedroom doors open to get warm. Remembering that made me smile. The old bedrooms were tiny but now their beds were covered in winter quilts and they looked like they belonged in a gingerbread house. I hadn't made those quilts but someday, I would have, had we stayed.

I would guess, being involved in a suspicious death (funny how I called it that, there was at that time a small hope she had had a heart attack or aneurism) might not make the lady with the gingerbread house too well received in the community. In fact, I would probably have an entirely new position in the community as a pariah once the case had moved from "suspicious death" to "homicide".

I felt timeless then, imagining how ancient cultures thought volcanos and earthquakes were punishment from God. I couldn't help but feel that there was some correlation having myself been so content and self-satisfied these last few months and that this now was retribution for being so confident; for thinking I could change my fate or set my own course. I was going straight to hell and should never have hoped otherwise.

Attorney Carole De La Cruz returned my call two hours later. I had no illusions about her motive. She hadn't returned my call for any reason other than this being one of the most sensational deaths in the communities surrounding the lake in the last decade. Cindy lived in a ritzy neighborhood. She had moved to the lake just eight months before and made a big splash. She had local stores deliver her groceries and laundry. She was a member of two exclusive lake clubs and a frequent customer of the private chauffer services to and from the Reno airport and casinos. She was a publicist for several prominent figures and named as instrumental in the launch of three of the top twenty most successful start-up companies in the U.S in 2007. There had been a feature article about her in the local paper when she had bought a residence here.

Later, reading all of this in the paper I realized I was proud of her and proud that I had known her. I wondered what had been so all encompassingly important in my life that I hadn't seen her more in the last six months. The truth was that each time she hadn't returned my calls I had considered my job done. By comparison she had had so much more going on than I and it truly wasn't until the last two months that she really had given up on me. I had my new life, always busy; doing what I don't know now. As I read the paper I looked about me and knew. I had spent the last six months spending book profits, building my nest. It seemed so shallow now that I had it all and Cindy was gone. I had just been so obsessed. Obsessed with my new freedom from Ray, obsessed with the free flow of income, obsessed with the idea of replacing all I had lost, year after year, through move after move. Now that I had it, it stunk in light of the loss of Cindy.

*** The first meeting I had with Carole De La Cruz didn't go over very well. I had it in my head that she would arrive, ready to defend a client against any wrongful accusations. She didn't. Maybe she was accustomed to being called by people who were guilty or maybe I saw myself as the virgin victim, but regardless, the meeting did give me some insight into what I was going to be up against. Just because I had a clear vision of my innocence didn't mean other people would. It was a confusing lesson to be learning so late in life.

"O.K., lets' start with what you know."

"I know my husband Ray had something to do with this. I don't know if he is capable of killing someone himself but I know in my heart he's involved or behind it."

"O.K., well tell me how. How do you know this?"

"He had been seeing her. He had been sleeping with her. She told me."

"Well I can tell you right up front, that information wouldn't help to clear you of suspicion. If we tell the police this, it isn't going to do anything but give them a motive which we don't want to do."

"O.K., well it is helpful to know not to tell that to the police but it isn't helpful for me to find I can't be completely honest. That is scary."

"Can you give me some specifics as to why you think your husband is involved in this? I mean is there any history of criminal behavior? Any accusations of rape or violence? Sleeping around on your wife is not a criminal offense. It is however a common motive for murder."

"Stop saying that. It sounds as if you believe I did it. If you do we need to stop right here because I don't care if you "CAN" defend me or not. I want someone who WILL defend me with the absolute conviction that I am innocent."

"We are nowhere near that yet. It isn't me you need to convince anyway. It's a science. If they find enough evidence against you they will take it to a judge or grand jury where they will decide if there is probable cause for prosecution. It is my job to refute that evidence and I am good at what I do. What I am a little concerned about is that when the police come to question someone about the death of a friend, that person doesn't customarily call an attorney and two hours later start building a defense. In my line of work that is usually indicative of guilt so forgive me if my actions appear contrary to your purpose but I am just reacting to your cue. I guess I'd like to know why you think you have anything to worry about."

"I am guilty of some behavior I am not proud of and I am worried that some of the things I did might make me look guilty but I would never have done anything to harm Cindy. Her friendship meant everything to me. I was depressed, frustrated, in an abusive marriage I couldn't get out of, in bondage and servitude if not physically then psychologically and emotionally to a very manipulative man who I am telling you has somehow set me up so it looks like I am complicit in Cindy's death. There is no way I would have hurt her. She provided the only joy I have had in my life in ten years."

"What about your children?"

"The first five years were good but unfortunately, I spent the last ten or twelve protecting them and trying to provide for them and there has been little joy in that. I love them more than life but not joyfully, not for a long time which really has no bearing on this case. My absolutely horrific marriage, which does have a bearing, is what got me in this mess."

"Why did you stay with him?"

"I don't know. I just don't know. I could say I was scared but from the outside looking in I understand you could think there would always be a way and there could have been but I was constantly drowning, fending off crises, and struggling to survive. The few opportunities I had to leave him were seriously complicated by all of the chaos we had going on but... I don't know how going into this now can help on this case. It is just making me crazy rambling on about it. I need some time to think and figure out where to go from here and how to approach this. What do you recommend I do at this point?"

"I will be getting a copy of the police report to see what they have so far but in the meantime, can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know what happened – to Cindy I mean. I was working that night, at Harrahs as a cashier. I got a call – actually a voicemail from Cindy that I picked up at a few minutes after 2am when I went on break. The message said she was worried that my husband knew we were friends and he would be angry about it."

"Ok, explain that to me."

"Well, we had a girl's night out one night, and I have had..."problems" with my husband so I suggested she might like to have him."

At this point my attorney smiled and looked down at the keyboard in front of her then turned in her seat to get something from the purse on the floor beside her. I could tell she was taking a minute to compose herself. It wouldn't be appropriate for her to laugh and high five me.

Now collected, she said, "That's not something you hear every day".

"He's a cheater but he wouldn't let go of me and I am sick of him. Cindy was really pretty and I thought if anyone could captivate him it would be Cindy, and she did. They hooked up and saw each other regularly".

"Did you ever see them together?"

"No. I wouldn't dare. You don't understand. Ray is not somebody to mess with. He is just, well, really, really malicious."

"Yet you did. Mess with him, I mean. Isn't that what you would call that? Setting him up with someone and then laughing about it behind his back?"

"I wasn't laughing about it behind his back. I was thanking God."

"So then what happened?"

"When?"

She checked her notes and reread back to me. 'You said, "The message said she was worried that my husband knew we were friends and he would be angry about it".'

"Well additionally the message led me to believe that he might be there right then so I was trying to be careful with what I said. Immediately after I finished listening to the voice message I got some really anxious feelings about her, given the tone of voice in her message, so I decided to leave work and go see her. Actually, I was planning on going there and just having it out with Ray. I mean finishing it. I was hoping he would be there, they would be conducting their business and I would be in an excellent position to call our marriage 'over'".

I described my drive over there and my efforts to get Cindy to answer the door and how I had heard the garage door open and a car pull out when I was on the back porch. I told her about going to the Ralphs parking lot and spending a few hours there. As I said it, it sounded like the stupidest alibi ever devised. The way I stayed in the parking lot and then went in to purchase trivial items made it seem like I was attempting to establish an alibi.

"You said you got anxious feelings about her. Can you explain what you mean by that?"

"Oh my god, she's dead. Can you not figure it out? I had good reason to have anxious feelings about her. She was worried Ray was going to be pissed that we knew each other and were hiding it from him. Don't you see that? It was like he would think we were playing a game behind his back and he wouldn't like it."

"I would think most men would like it a lot if they thought their wife was setting them up with another woman."

"Yeah, well Ray just isn't like that. He wouldn't see things that way. He likes to be in control. I just wonder how long he knew we were friends."

"What difference would that make?"

"A lot of difference; I mean, was he screwing her for six months, really angry with her, knowing he was going to kill her the whole time? That's a lot different than killing someone on the spur of the moment."

"I'd have to agree with you there but are you really that certain he did this?"

"I know I didn't."

"We can start with the police report but it isn't going to tell us what all they know. They are going to claim that they can't divulge information from an ongoing investigation so anything they discover won't be available to us until you are actually arrested. You can either wait it out or we can hire our own investigator to try and accumulate the same information they are accumulating. That way you would have a good idea what kind of a case they would be building against you...which leads me to the next subject."

"Before we move any further, I need to address the finances. There are substantial costs involved in this depending on how we proceed. I have mentioned my retainer and hourly fee plus expenses but I wanted to mention that if there is an actual arrest and arraignment, the bail for murder is commonly set at 1,000,000. The bond for that alone would be 100,000. A trial can and probably will amount to more than that. One way to alleviate some of the cost is through plea bargaining. It is something you might want to consider. No matter how distasteful the thought of admitting to anything is to you, it is my duty to inform you of the option. It is viable or 95% of all cases wouldn't be settled that way."

"I am not plea bargaining anything. I didn't kill Cindy and there isn't going to be any direct evidence saying I did. If you are as good at your job as you say you are, you should at least be able to get an innocent person cleared. And about the money, I don't have one cent to waste but I will get whatever is needed." I then told her I was exhausted and that I didn't mean to be rude but I was not going to be of any use if I didn't get some space to think this through.

"O.K., well you mentioned your sister handles your finances. Do I talk to you or her about fees and expenses?"

"Run everything by me."

"O.K. Let me know about the investigator. The guy I use is a little rough around the edges but don't let his appearance fool you. He gets the job done and he is good. His name is Darrell Obregon and if you decide that is how you want to proceed, I may have him contact you directly."

She laid his card on the table between us, next to hers and made a commotion while picking up her phone, laptop and briefcase. She gave me the impression she was leaving before she wanted to, as though I had dismissed her.

I really couldn't take another human being that needed something from me so I sat quietly as she left, letting her go, dissatisfied. Maybe, for $50,000 she could fucking figure something out on her own.

*** And later when we met again it was much the same. She said, "I would like to pick up where we left off on our last meeting. You mentioned that in the voicemail from Cindy you thought, and I quote: 'Well additionally the message lead me to believe he might be there right then.' Do you have anything you can give us as far as additional information regarding what led you to believe he was there at that time because Darrell has come up empty? There isn't one shred of evidence suggesting any third party was there. We have actually spoken to a few people who are privy to some of the information on the investigation and there is no talk of that or of a regular boyfriend for that matter. They have reviewed six months of surveillance tapes and the one man besides the chauffer that shows up is your husband Ray but he is only there the one time that you are there and after speaking at the door for a few minutes he doesn't appear again in any of the tapes.

I was beginning to lose all the fight in me. All the ground I had gained while Cindy was alive was now lost as I faced what seemed to be inevitable. My indignation at being wrongly accused was rapidly taking second stage as my concern about blowing through everything I had earned increased. I knew I should be most concerned about proving my innocence and securing assurance of freedom from incarceration but freedom without the means to escape Ray's clutches wasn't really freedom at all.

I told Carol that while I needed the best defense possible I was concerned about blowing through all of Madeline's money. (I didn't tell her that it was my money I was spending.) I asked her, "How do poor people do this?"

She said, "Ordinarily, they go to jail."

### 58) December 2009, Lake Tahoe, CA

Ray was conveniently absent when most of the investigation was being conducted. I began to wonder if he had a connection in the police department because I never told him my schedule and he seemed to know when to come around and when not. Looking back at it he must have had another girl/woman whose house he was crashing at because I doubt he spent five nights at home during those six weeks.

I asked him once when he came home and was grabbing clothes from the closet and drawers, "Ray, did you kill Cindy?"

He didn't answer which in and of itself is an admission of guilt to me. Instead he said, "I've got people working on this, don't you worry Pen. I'll get you out of this. You're going to serve very little time, in any."

I flipped out. I threw a tantrum and screamed like I had never screamed before. I tore into Ray kicking and punching. All I remember him saying was "calm down" over and over, first with a little grin and twinkle in his eye which was the acknowledgment he was enjoying himself and then as I pounded relentlessly his face took on that dark, angry look. When he couldn't deflect the blows from my hands and elbows he threw me to the floor smashing my face in the carpet with one hand and trapping my wrists with his other. He was just too big. I called him every name in the book and told him I wished he was dead and that as soon as I could I would kill him myself.

He remained unnervingly calm. Why shouldn't he? He had set me up, freed himself and trapped me in one move. As I lay there with his forehead pressing my cheek to the floor and the full weight of his body trapping me beneath him I felt his hot breath on my neck. "Calm down; you can get through this and I'll take care of Ray2 and Eve, don't worry about a thing. I can even check in on your mom for you" and he kissed me light little kisses on my neck while I lay there paralyzed. When he was confident I was subdued he started slowly thrusting his pelvis at my ass. I kicked and twisted but it was futile. He had slid his hand under my belly and was digging at my pants with his fingers to get at me. Every time he felt a slight flexing of the muscles in an arm or leg, signifying I was about to move it, he countered it by laying a limb heavily up on it and then more kisses and hot whispers on my neck and face. We were like that for about ten minutes with him digging at me and fingering me when he finally whispered "I'm sorry, I have a few things to do. We will have to pick this up again later."

I was losing my mind. I called Madeline and she came. I told her I was getting no help from my attorney and that I didn't believe I was in condition to make rational decisions anymore. After many expensive hours of reviewing everything, it came down to my attorney recommending that I not introduce Ray as a suspect since the investigator had been unsuccessful in securing one single iota of evidence that would support the accusation that Ray was the killer. She maintained that introducing Ray would only give the police the motive they needed to suggest murder instead of negligent manslaughter. It was her recommendation that in the case of arrest, I plea bargain for a cheaper and quicker solution and a guaranteed reduction in sentencing.

It wasn't just the stubborn refusal to cop to something I didn't do, it wasn't even fear of incarceration, it was my good name. I wasn't innocent. I had made some mistakes...but not murder, manslaughter or anything related. They had their sights on the wrong person.

Madeline listened to my tirade for hours barely interjecting a word now and then. Ray2 came down and went to work and Eve came in and asked what was for diner. I told her to run out and catch Ray2 and get a ride to Ralphs and pick herself out something and walk home. She belly ached about that and I told her I would tear her apart if she didn't leave me alone.

Madeline ended up grabbing her purse and saying she would take her; that she needed a break anyway. While they were gone I paced the back of the house which no longer gave me peace. It angered me. I had covered the day bed in a lively plaid sheet I had found and sewed coordinating slip covers for all the pillows in the room. There was a tray of matching blue and green candles I had carefully chosen out, one at a time for their delicious individual scents. I had a basket of fluffy yarns and a hook waiting for the afghan I was preparing to crochet. There was an old, old original oil painting of a seascape I had found at a yard sale for $5.00 and a box of old photographs I had dug out thinking I might actually be well enough to scrapbook again. We had lost every one of my old books in the U-Haul scam in Utah.

All of this reminded me of what wasn't mine and what I had that I was in jeopardy of losing. I realized as I looked about that I hadn't ever considered losing this place. I had thought I would leave but miraculously somehow have come up with three or four hundred thousand to hold onto this place until Ray fell off the face of the earth and I could come back and sit on my glassed in porch, crochet my blue green blanket and enjoy the filtered view of the lake. I then thought how much I would have liked to have this house in the one place Ray2 and Eve had lived for long enough to call home, for them to come back to when they had grown. But now what would they be coming home to? A murder suspect; their lesbian mother who had inadvertently killed her lover? Given the condition Cindy's body was in at the time of discovery that was the rumor circulating which was pretty disheartening. When I thought it through I realized Ray couldn't have more thoroughly burned that bridge behind me had he set off a series of nuclear explosions.

I wondered at times if Carol De la Cruz was working for him. I mentioned it one time in angry response to yet another one of her accusations and she had pursed her lips and shook her head as though addressing an errant child. Pressing the issue, if I was wrong, it would look as though I had delusions about Ray's presence and it would invalidate my claims that he was involved in Cindy's death. There was still, as Carol forever reminded me, as yet, no evidence at all supporting what I knew to be true. I was thinking of hiring another attorney but I was by then working mostly with her paralegal who was brilliant young man who had graduated from law school and was taking an extended period of time to study for his license. He had told me a few things he adamantly disagreed with regarding Carol's practices so I knew he wasn't just following her lead. Pretty much he did agree with all of her recommendations and perspectives regarding my case so it was as though I had another attorney already. Looking back at it, besides our personality clashes, probably the only reason I didn't like her and I did like him was that he never had to make recommendations that I didn't want to hear.

If I conveyed my concern over the expense Carol would use it as an opportunity to convince me to settle. "There is a reason 95% of all cases are plea bargained. Trials are expensive." My responses got angrier and more biting as the investigation progressed. "So you are suggesting I plead guilty to a crime I didn't do because it's cheaper?" The sarcasm didn't faze her. "If you pay your own bail to save the 10% you would lose to a bondsman, your funds will be tied up but I can wait a short while – we can make arrangements."

### 59) December 2009, Lake Tahoe, CA

I only stepped outside once in the four weeks between that first visit from the detectives and the day I was arrested. Other than that, I don't even know that I stepped out in the yard. I never had an anxiety attack. I just didn't try to do it. I made a call to my manager at Harrahs and told her I would be unable to come back to work. I was completely dry eyed and calm as I explained to her that I was traumatized by the death of a friend and wasn't in condition to work. She asked me to see a doctor so that I could turn in documentation for a leave of absence because she said she didn't want to lose me and didn't want this to permanently affect my ability to work for Harrahs again. I agreed, knowing I would not pursue it. I then automatically adjusted my life so that no activity required me to step outside. I asked Ray2 to carry trash to the outside cans. I gave Eve my debit card and a grocery list and had Ray2 drive her to the store. Not so much changed. I don't even think anyone noticed.

I sent Eve up the road with a blank check to ask our neighbor who owned a plow, what he would charge to keep our driveway plowed. Ray2 and Eve didn't balk once at picking up the slack. I even made peace with Ray so I could use him to chop the wood and stack it under the eaves. It was on one of these rare trips home when he dumped a bag of dirty clothes in the laundry and was packing up a set of clean ones that I eventually found the need to go outside.

While I was cowering in fear from the outside world, Ray would come around rarely, but when he pleased and saunter around the house in a swarthy manner, seeming to revel in my awkward position. He would keep the wood pile full and then ask for a meal and sit and watch me cook it as though proud he could require this menial task of me. One evening he came in at about 6pm and had clearly already had a few drinks. Ray2 was bagging groceries at Ralphs and Eve left five minutes after he arrived. He badgered me for the next 15 minutes about where she was going; asking "Is that how you manage our 15 year old now? Is she just allowed to come and go as she pleases? She is developing into a real little bitch, just like her mom."

He went out to his car and brought back a bottle of Jack Daniels that he cracked open. As he poured two glasses he said, "You don't mind if I don't have you mix my drinks, do you doll? I don't want to wake up in a dumpster somewhere." He handed me one and then opened the freezer in our old timey refrigerator, looking for ice, and saw there was only one tray about half filled. He pulled it out and twisted it to get some ice cubes for his drink, complaining the whole time about how no one filled the ice trays but him. I didn't answer. No one in the house used ice, especially during the winter, but Ray. He kept himself busy while he rattled on, filling the other three trays and leaving the one with the few frozen cubes left, on top. I remember thinking that he was planning to stay a good while and how sick it would make me if he tried to touch me.

He didn't ask for dinner which lead me to believe he had other things on his mind. All I had to do was stall but I was not in a state for mental games so I made a big project out of loading his clothes and asking if I could pack for him so he could leave early. I knew if I started pushing him out the door he would determinedly sit and relax. He brought his bottle into the living room with him, turned on the TV and sat on the couch stretching his arm that wasn't holding his drink out along the back. It struck me how he was so large that he almost consumed three quarters of the couch himself which made me a little wary. He was finished with his drink two seconds later and I asked if I could get him another with a cherubic smile on my face but he said, "noooo thank you" and happily went to the kitchen to draw a much larger glass from the cabinet. Ray grinned as he poured his drink, quite happy that he had me in check.

He used the rest of the ice that was left and filled the six inch high glass with enough straight whiskey to knock anyone with any less tolerance, out. He made a few weak passes at me trying to get the old banter going but I didn't buy into it. About 20 or 30 minutes later he started slowing down. He stood up from the couch and started weaving. "You fuckin bitch. How dija do it?" And that is all he could get out before he made his way to the door, dropping his drink with the few half melted ice cubes left on the floor while trying to dig in his pants pocket for the keys to his car. I just stood and watched him wondering if he would collapse and die on the spot. He didn't. He made it to the door and stumbled out, sliding down the porch steps. I watched him with pleasure, slip and trip on his way to his car, thinking if he made it behind the wheel, maybe he would drive head on into a tree and kill himself. But he didn't. He made it into the seat, and struggled and flayed his arms attempting to get the keys inserted but he never turned the engine over. All I could see from my high vantage point in through the windshield were his legs and forearms which had stopped moving. His car door was still open and the ding, ding, ding was going off, indicating the keys were in the ignition.

I watched for a few minutes and then shut the front door and cleaned up the spilled drink and the bottle. I threw the ice tray that was now empty into the garbage, pulled the bag out of the kitchen can, tied it up and set it by the front door to be taken to the outside bin. Now what was I going to do. If I put the car in neutral and let it roll backwards down the driveway it would simply settle in the ditch across the street. I wanted him AWAY from me. I was going to have to squeeze in the seat with him and back the car out into the street and then get out and set it off down the road. It would crash, not hard or fast, into the trees at the end of the street. Then someone would call the cops but I had some work to do first.

I put on my coat and scarf and snow boots and made my way down to his car. It was dark out but the moon and stars were bright in the night sky. I searched under the seats, in the door pockets and the glove compartment but I couldn't find the gun that I knew was there. He had removed it from the bottom of the drawer in our bedroom nightstand and I knew he wouldn't leave it at someone else's house so it had to be in the car somewhere. I did find a cheap flip phone I hadn't seen before and spent a few moments trying to look through it but it had a password lock. If I turned up with it now and it was the phone he used to call Cindy it would just look like I had made the calls. I threw it on the seat and continued looking for the gun. I opened the hood but it was too dark to see anything. I had to go back to get a flashlight and about ten minutes later I found the gun tucked in a makeshift holster that was attached to the underside of the rear fender. I removed it and held it for a few minutes feeling the weight of it in my hands. It was a large gun. I had no idea what kind. I took it and held it to Ray's head trying to get the feel of it. I had never held a gun before. He was breathing deeply and steadily. I tried to figure out how to take the safety off which I knew prevented a gun from firing but I had no idea how to do it. I thought I could probably look it up on the internet but it crossed my mind how those search results would look on the history of my computer when the cops came to investigate.

I decided I couldn't blow his brains out. Much as I wanted him dead, it was just too violent an act and I would drive myself crazy with guilt for the remainder of my life if I did it. Somehow I had thought if he slid into perpetual sleep or drove himself into a tree, I could have absolved myself of at least some of the blame. Disgusted with myself, I threw the gun in plain sight into the passenger seat and then pushed the driver seat all the way back and climbed in between Ray's legs. I turned on the car and backed it out into the street, facing downhill, then put it in park, got out and had a hell of a time trying to pull his seat back forward with him in it. It took so long that I finally gave up and instead worked to arrange him convincingly behind the wheel when I realized there was one more thing I had forgotten. I went back to the house and got his bottle and came back and opened it and poured a decent amount on his mouth and neck watching it dribble down the sides of his face and neck. Maybe he would freeze to death. That would be nice.

I put the car in drive and watched it roll down the hill more slowly than I would have liked. It settled in the turn, blocking the center of the road. Maybe I should go down and prop the door open so the interior light would be on and he would be in display in all of his glory. Yes, that sounded good, so I trudged down the hill in the quiet dark and opened his car door all the way back. I pushed him over so he was leaning into the arm rest with his head hanging back and put the bottle of whiskey between his legs and tried to wrap his hand around it though it wouldn't stay. I stepped back to look at my handiwork. Hopefully someone would find him and call the police soon. I didn't dare do it myself as I didn't know what kind of tracking abilities the police had. On my way back up the hill I had to hide twice when I saw headlights leaving the highway on their way up the hill but neither car stopped. They both just carefully maneuvered around Ray's car. I willed one of them to pick up their cell phones and call the police.

I was exhausted by the time I got home. I nearly tripped over the garbage bag when I entered the front door. I went and made myself a cocktail and sat at the kitchen table scrapbooking. I felt good; the best I had felt in ages.

*** I kept waiting to hear or see commotion on the street below. If there were patrol cars and tow trucks, their lights would be visible on the street below my house. Though I kept checking, the first lights I saw were those of my car pulling in the driveway. Ray2 was driving and had a friend with him. He had been home quite a bit since Cindy had died; partly I believed to support me but also because Ray had been so scarce.

When he came in all bundled up in his parka and stepped in the front door with his friend I realized how big he had gotten. He nearly took up the whole door frame. I asked him to take out the trash and while he was gone I asked Billy if they had eaten. He looked squirrelly so I thought he might be high. It had been almost a year since I had seen Ray2 hanging out with anyone who did drugs and this was not a good sign.

When Ray2 got back and was removing his jacket and boots he asked, "Did you see Dad?"

"I did."

"He's down at the turn in the road you know."

"I know. I was hoping someone would call the cops on him."

"Yeah, that would be nice."

"Is the door still open?"

"No. Was it? Somebody must have closed it."

"Shit. I mean shoot. That means the light isn't on in the car."

"It's still out in the middle of the road. Maybe someone will hit it."

"Not likely unless the snowfall gets harder. Everyone drives so cautiously when it's snowing. Did you get a good look at him?"

"Yeah. He's just lying there passed out."

"Did you see anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Like anything in the car?"

"What are you talking about? You mean like a woman?"

"No. Forget it."

"Ok, well if you don't need anything, we're going to play some video games."

It was quiet until Eve came in later. She told me Ray's car was in the middle of the road. I told her that I knew then asked her if she wanted to watch a movie and we bought a pay per view. She fell asleep and at about 2:20 Ray2 came in and told me there was some commotion down the street and they were going to go out and take a look. It was snowing pretty heavily by then which was probably what had taken them so long to come out as I was pretty certain someone going up or down the hill would have called it in. When Ray2 came back he said they were taking Ray off on a stretcher and had pushed the car over to the side of the road until a wrecker could come out and get it. He asked if I wanted him to drive it up to the house and I said, "Hell, no."

Damn, that guy had all the luck. No one had hit him and he hadn't frozen to death. I would have to get more serious next time. After a while I could still hear the boys at the video games so I asked Ray2 to move some chests of drawers in front of the front and back doors. Not that it would stop Ray but it would make enough noise to warn me. I wished I had kept that gun.

### 59) January 2010, So. Lake Tahoe, CA

They arrested me on January 8th, 2010. My attorney said it was not a good thing. She said they must have had some pretty solid evidence to warrant an arrest so soon. To me it seemed like forever since Cindy had died and as to the pretty solid evidence, I had seen how thorough Ray could be. I had no doubt he had covered all of his bases. What was confusing was that I had thought he wouldn't sacrifice me for anything. Clearly, I had yet again, made another error in my judgment about Ray St. Claire.

De La Cruz said arresting me on a Friday before a weekend was a tactical move. It provided them with an opportunity to hold me for three days before the 48 hour window began for my deadline for an arraignment. It didn't matter to me. I was ready.

I had spent the last month in self- imposed exile going through every bin and box in the garage, the cabinets and in the kid's rooms. I had sorted everything we owned in the same manner I done so many times before. If you aren't a mover, you wouldn't know that no matter how sparingly you live you have no idea how much you own until you have to move.

As I sorted, I recalled and counted the number of times we had moved. Then I categorized them. I called them category 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5. There was a pattern actually different than what I had expected. They went, 1,2,3,5,2,2,3,5,2,2,4,5, so that I wondered if Ray just appeased himself between category 5's with several lower category moves until total upheaval could occur. Kind of like the cycle of earthquakes on the San Andreas Fault. And while Ray rocked our world, I mapped it, classified it, ordered it and finally closed it. Week after week I closed boxes and labeled them that winter. Boxes for Eve, boxes for the Goodwill, boxes for Ray, Ray2, and some for me that I wanted to keep forever and those I sent to Madeline, one at a time, inconspicuously. I wasn't sure where I was going then, or when, but I knew I didn't want the precious few things I had to go the way of everything else I had ever held dear.

That last day at the house before they came to arrest me I was laying on my bed fully dressed. The house was clean, dinner was in a pot in the refrigerator, all the clothes were cleaned, sheets were changed on the beds, the trash was emptied, I had had the Subaru checked and rechecked and filled it with gas for Ray2. I had known for a very long time that this was coming and had prepared my children and myself the best way I knew how.

### 60) February 2010, Carson City, Nevada

Carole reflected out loud after the preliminary hearing, "What we have is an overly ambitious prosecutor but I am getting the impression this judge is sympathetic to you. He has stated that he isn't convinced a crime has been committed. He is so sympathetic that who knows? He might personally have some experience with the particular kind of sexual practice we are looking at here."

"What I am concerned about is your insistence on going into this pretrial process proclaiming you weren't there because you didn't enter the house. You were there – that is a fact supported by a considerable amount of evidence not to mention you looked like you had been in a fight. You denied having been there earlier and explained your condition as a result of having fallen. The whole thing just looks like a hornet's nest which is what puts up red flags which is what leads to an investigation which is what leads to a finding of guilt. I am clear that you want to define the difference between your presence at Cindy's house and her death. I can only hope the grand jury sees it as clearly as you do because this will go to grand jury - that much we can assume given the amount of circumstantial evidence that the prosecution has thus far unearthed. The hole in that line of defense is that the numerous camera shots recording the time you were there and the piles of witness testimonies all establish your presence during the entire window in which the coroner states she died. That is irrefutable. Your scarf, your prints in several places in the house though there are regular cleanings, your numerous calls to the victim before her death are all going to weigh heavily on the decision to proceed. In addition, we have to consider that odd incident in Salt Lake City that they are either not yet aware of or just aren't telling us they are aware of. That will introduce and establish a history of malevolent behavior we cannot afford to have surface. Actually, the only thing they would need to make this an iron clad case would be some indication Cindy was having an affair with your husband." Carole De la Cruz continued to lavish me with words of wisdom; I was paying for, that made me sick to the core.

*** Sure enough the case went to grand jury. Madeline brought me a suit. It was lavender. She said it was the last color in the world a murderer would ever wear. I said it was the last color in the world I would ever wear but really I didn't care. It felt as though everything happening was beyond my control. I was a law abiding citizen. I tried hard. I worked hard. I did everything I could to raise my children well, to keep peace in my family and even volunteered to help out at church and school whenever I could. It seemed as though my life path had crossed someone else's and now I was on someone else's course and they were on mine.

When I was preparing to dress for the hearing, I removed the jacket from the hangar that held the entire ensemble. It was expensive; I wouldn't have expected anything else from Madeline, but there was a rough, darker stitching inside on the lining. It was a note embroidered by Eve. It said "Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will always love you." I use to whisper that to her every night as she went to sleep. I hadn't said it to her in a few years as she had been so angry. It made me sob, loudly and with abandon, for my liberty, for justice and for my children. My vacation with Madeline seemed a galaxy away and somehow it seemed this was my punishment for that luxury.

It was less than a thirty minute drive, but we arrived so quickly it seemed staged like you see the criminal in one scene and then he's in court in the next scene.

I went peacefully and gracefully with my head held high and all of the confidence in the American judicial system a person could have. I spoke finally and with conviction once again to my attorney and assured her I had had nothing to do with Cindy's death and therefore a case could not be built against me. She didn't look convinced. As a matter of fact there was a day in the not too distant future she would come to tell me she thought I was delusional.

### 61) February 2010, Carson City, Nevada

The police report referred to Cindy as "the victim". It said she was found lying on her side with her knees pulled up somewhat, lower half of the body (hips) turned toward the west facing double glass doors and shoulders facing toward the ceiling, arms splayed out to the sides. The body was posed. She had traces of a commercial lubricant in her vaginal cavity suggesting she had recently engaged in sexual activity however, the product container had not been located. It said they were currently attempting to determine if the activity was voluntary or otherwise. They found no traces of semen anywhere which raised the possibility of the use of some kind of barrier but there were birth control pills in the night stand. They were missing all previous days including the morning of the day preceding her death. The report included the speculation that the absence of semen might suggest a female partner.

The victim's land line had had no activity other than fax remissions in the last 30 days. Her cell phone records show a call to a phone billed to a Madeline Schaffer of 1515 Parkview Drive in San Jose, CA at 11:54 am on 11/27/13 that lasted 2 minutes. Subsequently at 2:11am on 11/28/13 the victim received a call that went to voicemail placed from a phone owned by the same Madeline Schaffer who is the sister of the suspect. Additionally, several calls were placed to and from another cell phone in the months and days leading up to the death. The phone had been recently mailed to the El Dorado County Sherriff's office in Placerville, CA. and was found to have several finger prints belonging to the suspect. As though it wasn't enough that I was under suspicion Ray had mailed the phone that I had handled the night that I drugged him, to the police.

The report went on to say that it appeared the victim was strangled with a sheer scarf that was found knotted around her neck. The preliminary report from the ME suggested injuries found were more consistent with ligature strangulation than manual asphyxiation or autoerotic asphyxia which is strangulation during sexual activity to heighten orgasm. The scarf was being processed for trace evidence.

Victoria Montrose, the neighbor across the street and to the east said she saw a white Subaru station wagon parked in front of the complex entrance at about 3 am. She said it was there for a while because she checked a few times. She stated she believed someone was banging on the door/house. At times it sounded as if it was the front door and at times it sounded as if it was the back door. She also believes there was banging on the garage she says because at times the banging sounded "hollow". She could not see the house from her house but she speculated that the person knocking did not get in because the banging occurred at regular intervals and the last interval was shortly before she looked out the window for the last time and saw a woman crossing the street back toward the community entrance gate.

A 911 call, placed by one Lucia Alvarez, was recorded at 9:40 am on Tuesday, November 27th, 2009. The transcripts of that call are attached and lengthy. In between screams she managed to convey that there was a dead body in the bedroom of a house at 1215 Dorchester Way, Incline, Nevada.

After police were dispatched and the caller was questioned at the scene, they ascertained that she was the maid. She had let herself in the house with a key and had spent approximately two hours cleaning the downstairs rooms in the house before ascending the stairs. She cleaned the master bedroom on the south side of the house and then finally entered the 2nd master bedroom where she found the accused kneeling at the side of the bed and the deceased laying on the bed. She ran from the room and the house and called 911 from her cell phone which she had left in her car. She remained outside until a patrol car arrived at 9:52. Officers Morales and Chavez immediately secured the site against future contamination though much of the evidence that might have been available was destroyed as a result of the maid cleaning. Additionally, there was a light but consistent snowfall from 4pm on the 26th through 10am on the morning of the discovery that obliterated any tracks that may have been made outside the residence at the time of the death.

The surveillance tapes show Cindy Gibbon's car drove out of the complex at 11:35. The vehicle came back through the gate at 12:08. A minute later at 12:09 the camera recorded a garage shot which shows the door in the process of closing.

There are numerous shots of Ms. St Claire around the perimeter of the house from 2:40 to 2:55 when the system is shut down.

The coroner estimates the time of death between 2:30 and 3:30.

All available evidence has been turn over to the District Attorney for review.

According to Carole, "All the police report established was opportunity." She said she didn't see evidence of a clear motive but that didn't mean the prosecutorial team wasn't going to spin one. It was going to be her job to debunk it.

### 62) February 2010, Carson City, Nevada

According to Cutter, the prosecutorial pathologist, the injuries found were consistent with ligature strangulation. I felt as though she was strangling me as I read the transcripts of the trial.

In any trial in this country, in order to secure a murder conviction, the prosecution must establish "intent". In my case, it was Cutter's testimony as a doctor, a professional witness and a specialist in asphyxia that convinced the jury. She claimed, "Intent could be established because "by continuing to constrict Ms. Gibbon's neck long after becoming aware of the emergency, the accused showed the necessary mens rea for murder."

The doctor estimated it would take a constant pressure of eight to 18 seconds to render someone unconscious and at least 62 seconds to cause their death and more likely, 2–3 minutes; leaving plenty of opportunity for reconsideration. She went on to gruesomely explain the symptoms of strangulation by a ligature as sudden and violent compression of the windpipe causing insensibility, cyanosis in the head, vertigo, tingling, muscle weakness, clenching of the hands, convulsions and finally death.

As though that was not enough to seal my coffin, she stepped out of her line of expertise to remind the jury that unlike manual asphyxiation, ligature strangulation, willing partner or not, included the act of acquiring a tool for strangulation, further implying intent. How was this last related to the doctor's field of expertise? Apparently there is no check and balance system against any material the prosecution wants to provide at the grand jury phase of the criminal process – at least in Washoe County. Unless invited, the defense attorney is not present. I was invited at some stage in the process. I guess they had decided they wanted to get their eyes on the accused. I wondered if I looked guilty in my lavender suit. It was clear they had been discussing the crime for some time before I arrived. They never asked me to speak. My attorney had relentlessly cautioned me against it as I would have to wave my rights if I did. It was frustrating because I wanted to express my innocence, plead with them, make them understand I loved Cindy but I never got the chance.

The grand jury did allow testimony from a pathologist Carole had hired to speak in my defense. He testified that it was his opinion that death could have occurred very quickly by a mechanism known as vagal inhibition, and that therefore death might have become inevitable without signs of medical emergency. He claimed that death from erotic asphyxia was completely different from that of murder, since the participants try to prevent medical emergency or death, not to cause it. He testified that if the death were accidental, it may have been very sudden; 1–2 seconds. That didn't even sound believable to me and even if it were I wasn't sure why an innocent person should be defending how quickly someone could die in a sexual strangulation event.

The Judge responded by saying "Unfortunately, neither sheds any light on which situation actually occurred."

I sat in the grand jury proceedings, listening to the prosecutor and witnesses discuss "the nature of my relationship" with Cindy as though I wasn't in the room. That would be something I would have liked to have spoken about. I wanted to tell them we had no relationship, sexual or otherwise any more. Carol was absolutely convinced that if I were to get before the grand jury and claim that we had no relationship and that I had nothing to do with her death, the evidence so clearly to the contrary would make everything I said unbelievable and I would therefore be guilty because I lied. The prosecutor got the chauffer, the maid and two bar tenders to testify who all made it sound so certain that I had been having a romantic relationship with Cindy. Why didn't they call Madeline or Dawn? They didn't seem to want to hear why I wasn't guilty. They seemed to refute my unspoken words by closing with a long statement about the calls to and from Cindy's cell phone as evidence that the only contact Cindy had had with the outside world during the last months of her life, had been me. It was the perfect frame and I had played right into it.

The court was informed by the prosecutorial team that accidental asphyxia of a partner is rare because one partner always remains alert to signs of problems and there was therefore a witness who had the ability to prevent the death. Next, the team proceeded to identify and then condemn possible accidental scenarios. They reminded the court that there was no evidence supporting the possibility that the victim might have carried a pre-existing medical condition. Next they addressed the lack of evidence supporting an unusual position at the time of strangulation which might have supported a claim that accidental death was caused by unforeseen tension in the ligature.

The last I was allowed to hear was the grand jury deliberating over the likelihood of murder, manslaughter or accident. Where was the question of whether or not I was party to any of it? They specified they were looking for intent to kill, negligence or an illegal act that might have caused an unpredictable or accidental death. It was not whether or not I was guilty; it was a question as to what degree. One juror reminded the others of the possibility that the death was an accident that occurred during consensual sex. Unfortunately, they did not need a unanimous decision to find cause to prosecute.

Later we learned the prosecution's case that a murder took place rested on several key issues. "It is certain that Ms. St. Claire would have known that a serious injury was being incurred in sufficient time to be able to stop and prevent the death." They claimed they had established that the deceased had been engaged in only one relationship in the months leading up to her death. They discussed the consistent frequency of the calls between the two phones for six months and then the drop in frequency immediately before the death speculating the relationship between Cindy and I had recently suffered a blow. They confirmed this by my own admission in statements about our relationship having ended. They named abrupt termination as motive for intending injury or death. The prosecution provided statistical data that revealed a grossly remote possibility of the death being an accident. They finished with a statement that would, in the juror's minds, effectively deny the credibility of anything I might have said, had I been allowed. "Ms. St. Claire could hardly be trusted to produce a reliable account of what had happened."

The prosecution claimed that the possibility of manslaughter, a lesser offence, was not viable. If the jury believed a serious offence had been proved, but it was not murder, the only correct possibility would have been to acquit the guilty woman - a potentially controversial outcome indeed. They reminded the court that in all cases, strangulation should be assumed to be homicidal until the contrary is shown. The prosecution had successfully proven that there was a reasonable suspicion that a felony was committed and that I did it. The jury found there was sufficient evidence for prosecution and I was held over for trial.

Carole lamented that the jury should have been presented with a possible involuntary manslaughter or negligible homicide charge but that since the prosecution kept insisting it was either murder or we let her go, the grand jury was forced to decide in favor of prosecution. They couldn't just let the death of Cindy Gibbons go. She was too big of a fish and the backlash from the media would have been fierce. Had the grand jury entertained the possibility that the death was an accident caused by my negligence, we would have been able to bargain down to a sentence limited to community service. As it was, we went into negotiations to get me out of a murder charge.

Carole finally won the argument for a plea bargain. The police had unnecessarily accumulated over a dozen witnesses to the presence of my vehicle at the scene of the crime at the time of the crime. They were so inundated with reports that they stopped taking them. It wasn't an issue though they made it one. In the initial hours after the police arrived I hadn't volunteered being there earlier so they turned it into an attempt to conceal my guilt.

In the preliminary hearing I believe Carole did the best anyone could have done. She argued that there was no evidence of struggle but the prosecution just responded with a scenario, in which a person is taken unawares, and the ligature is suddenly placed around the neck and pulled tightly, the person loses consciousness quickly and is unable to offer much resistance. They substantiated the claim with the fact that the body was posed which implied an attempt to cover up a malicious act. I ended up pleading no contest as Carole insisted sentencing would be lenient if I did not challenge the court. The sentencing hearing would be next and I prayed to the spirits to ease my burden. I prayed for peace and asked for forgiveness for my participation in Cindy's death. I knew, though I had not been there, I had led her to slaughter.

In the sentencing hearing they negotiated my detainment. Carole pleaded for me to serve time in a camp or a community center but the prosecution had found out that I had applied for and received passports for Ray2, Eve and I. The prosecutor argued I should be considered a flight risk and therefore not suitable for a minimum security facility.

Carole repeatedly inferred that there was no proof I had committed the crime and the judge constantly reprimanded her. She fought for me like a champ. She argued about weaknesses in the prosecution's case, and the fallacy of considering a homicide charge on limited circumstantial evidence. She listed every church I had attended, and stated I had never been arrested or even cited for any driving infractions. At that point she said the judge sarcastically remarked, "So our defendant is a good driver?" After which Carole reminded him that she is responsible for establishing good character for her client and should not only be allowed, but encouraged to do so. "Certainly," she remarked, "We can agree the crime was a departure from normal conduct." She reminded the court I was a primary caregiver to two under aged children and that it would be detrimental to their home life to have me incarcerated at all. She closed with the assertion that I was in no way a danger to the community. She didn't even address the flight risk issue because she said it was too "hot" of a topic. She suspected that my having received the passports in the mail a week before Cindy's death had greatly weighed on the grand jury's decision to indict me.

I did not attend the plea bargaining or the sentencing hearing. The grand jury trial was enough. All that I know was told to me in detail by Carole. She owed it to me. It had cost me 56,000 in legal fees to go to jail. My case was complicated by the fact that I lived in California and Cindy had died in Nevada. Carole had had to hire co-council because although she was licensed to practice in Nevada she said it wasn't her primary territory and she needed feet on the ground there, people that knew the judge and prosecutorial team. None of which really mattered other than the cost whittling away the savings I had so painstakingly accumulated. I ended up with a two year sentence and a possibility of parole in seven months. The two I had spent in jail counted against my sentence. That meant five months. The one concession the prosecution lost was that I was allowed to serve the time in a "community center". Nevada was littered with them and as Carole had said, the judge seemed sympathetic even if the grand jury had not. I had the hope of spending a few weeks of summer with Ray2 and Eve before he went to college. I hadn't even asked anyone but I thought I might not be allowed to leave the country for a while, and I wasn't sure if I would be allowed into Canada.

### 63) Mid June 2010, Carson City, Nevada

The "conservation camp" was like living in a group home with a low class population with poor educations and poorer personal hygiene. There were several dozen dormitory style out buildings set out on dry acreage and I immediately thought of Ray2 and Eve. Though I had told them I would not see them until I got out, wanting to distance them in every way from this nightmare, I missed them. My heart ached for them. And it was because of that ache as much as the unintimidating nature of the place that made me consider and even hope that I might see them.

For the last seventeen years I had made every effort to shield Ray2 and Eve from the illegal world Ray lived in permeating their lives. Ray resented me for it. He claimed I had brainwashed the kids into believing he wasn't a "good enough father" and that they deserved better. I was at fault for dividing our family because I was a class snob. It was a ludicrous claim given how rough it had been trying to hide our poverty when I was growing up. It had been his living outside the law I had objected to not the lack of money but he would divert the subject to absolve himself of any wrong. In the end, after all my efforts, it wasn't Ray who had dragged the family right up to the front door of the criminal world. It had been me.

It was me Ray2 was coming to visit in jail. Not Ray. When he did finally come, as I knew he would, it was like a wave of salvation hit me. He looked so normal, so healthy, so competent and so full grown that I felt overwhelmed and relieved at the same time. I held him and cried for over a half hour. I could have stayed in jail for the rest of my life if I hadn't had Ray2 and Eve. Nothing else mattered to me.

I had spoken to Eve and Ray2 on the phone every week since the day I was arrested. Then, one week Ray2 just didn't answer. I immediately called Eve and she said he had to turn his phone off for fear of his father tracking him through the gps. He was going to get another phone but she didn't have the number yet. She would let him know to call me when she next spoke to him. Then, the following week, when I called Eve's number again, it was out of service. I hated like hell to do it but I called Ray. His phone was not out of service. He didn't answer so I left a message telling him I needed to speak to Eve.

It was two days later that Ray2 showed up for visiting hours. I had been crawling the walls but now he was here and I was holding him. If I could only hold Eve as well. When I had settled down a little bit I asked him how Eve was and he told me he hadn't seen her. "I've checked the house every night to see if the light is on in her room but it hasn't been. I went by Monica's house and asked her to go to the house and ask for Eve but she has gone by twice and no one has been home." I felt myself getting light headed and leaned my head against his shoulder. "Ray2, where can she be?"

"I don't know." He held my hand and leaned his head on mine as he told me he had been meeting her at the school bus stop every morning and driving her to school. Then when school got out for the summer, he said he had hooked up with her maybe every two or three days. Then one night when he was at work he received a text message from his father that said "walk home." He went out to the parking lot and the car was gone. He walked up to the house and it was dark, no one was there and neither was the car. He left and spent the night at his friend's house where he was living permanently by that time. Five days went by and he and his friends were checking the house daily when finally, on one of the occasions they were checking, Ray and some Mexican man were on the porch talking and the car was in the driveway. He got out of his friend's car and started walking toward them and Ray raised his hand in greeting and Ray2 just got in the Subaru and started backing it out of the driveway. He said the Mexican guy raised a gun and pointed it at him and he raced out of there as Ray knocked the guy's arm down and came tearing down the porch steps running down the driveway after him screaming and waving.

He said Eve had called him two nights later and said Ray was holding her prisoner. She said, "Don't tell me where you are because I don't want to know in case he tries to beat it out of me." Then she said she heard her dad talking about leaving for Mexico and then Ray grabbed the phone and started screaming into it saying, "Bring that car back here you little shit. I'll beat the living shit out of you you mother fucking son of bitch, you bring that car back here right now."

"I hung up on him." Ray2 said he didn't dare drive the car around and had called into work and told his manager he couldn't come back because his father was violent and he was worried he would find him there. He said he didn't know what to do because he had about 2000 dollars saved but it wasn't enough without a car. I told him not to worry about money at all, ever again. I was furious. The car was mine. Ray had no claim to it and no business touching it. It was still in my mom's name. Madeline had religiously paid the registration, license, and insurance since she had given it to me seven years earlier, when my mom had gone into a home. My anger over the car made me temporarily less focused on Eve.

"Ray I'm worried about the car. I don't want you driving it around. He has done something bad with it and he is trying to cover his tracks. Please go drop it off. I'll get you another one. Go shop for one, put a few hundred down on it and call Madeline for the rest."

"You've got to be kidding. I'm not going to just hand him that car. He can't just take other people's stuff. He can go to hell."

"What I am saying is, Ray2; I think whatever he has done will get you in trouble. You can't afford to be involved in his crap. You have a clean record and you need it to stay that way. You concentrate on getting ready for college. Why don't you plan on driving to the campus with Eve as soon as you get a new car? That would be something to look forward to."

"I'M NOT GIVING HIM THE GOD DAMN CAR!"

I was quiet for a few moments letting him reflect on his outburst. "Ray2, all we have worked toward our whole lives is coming right around the bend. We have waited for this moment in time. We have waited to be free of worry, anger, chaos and terror. Now you are telling me you want to take a stand? You are letting Ray's shit dictate your life. You are reacting to HIS ACTIONS. STOP IT. You will jeopardize the rest of your life, and mine and Eve's. We are done with him. Drive the car around the corner and call him and tell him where it is. And be careful. The law could be looking for that car right now. Just getting stopped in it could get you arrested."

"I'm not giving him the car Mom."

"Ok...how about if we ask him to pay you for it?"

"It's not like I am trying to get the money for your car for myself, mom it's just that he can't just take other peoples stuff. I'm not going to let him have it."

"How about if we tell him to deposit 2000 in your account and that as soon as the money is credited, you will call him and let him know where it is. How does that sound?"

He sat and chewed on that for a while. I knew it was more than the money that was bothering him but I had to let him work it out for himself. I knew if I talked him into something he could leave and do as he pleased.

He didn't speak for at least five minutes and I could feel him struggling with it but finally he said, "I'm going to tell him to have Eve bring it to me, not deposit it in my account. I don't want him anywhere near my account and then that way I'll be able to see her. What I can't figure out is how I am going to guarantee he isn't anywhere near me when I meet with Eve."

It was good to know he was working with me. "I have a solution for that, buddy. That gps business works two ways. I'll give you the password into that Verizon phone account. Turn on the gps function for his phone. You will be able to track where he is." His eyes lit up and that big beautiful set of teeth showed from cheek to cheek. He liked that idea. Beating Ray at his own game was the best feeling in the world. It was kind of rewarding to realize I had learned a little along the way.

"You need to buy a prepaid phone. Don't worry about the money. When you need more, just call Aunt Madeline. She is holding some money for me. And Ray2, if your dad doesn't go for the deal, I mean if he doesn't pay you, I still want you to dump that car. He is into some very serious shit and you could get hurt. I want you to find Eve. That is paramount. If you can't get her out of that house, you can track where he goes and maybe get her somewhere else."

"Yeah..." he was quiet for a few minutes and I knew there was something else he wanted to tell me. Ray2 always saved a little in case he needn't spread bad news that could be bagged and forgotten.

"What is it buddy?"

"He changed the plates on the car."

"Ray2, I don't know if this occurred to you or not but that car is still in my mom's name. Madeline has been registering it and insuring it. A lot of people could get in trouble. I am asking you to return it so no one gets hurt. We can afford it. I promise."

"Yeah, Ok. I'll see what I can do about Eve. I've got to go. Sammy is waiting outside and he doesn't have any air conditioning in his car. "

I paused and checked to see if he got all of this and if he would be able to handle it. He just nodded. Thank God and the spirits for a quiet man.

"Ray2, I am counting on you to do the smart thing and to get in touch with Eve. I'll be out in 90 days. You guys can keep it together until then. And think about college buddy, it will be so awesome. You will be surrounded by winners. You will see life can be good. I promise. Take care of yourself. You know I love you more than life." He hugged me and I watched him leave. I realized then how autonomous he was, this man-child of mine. Had I done right by him?

*** When Ray2 left I wrote and wrote to avoid thinking about Eve. I spent a lot of time thinking about my life; about my past and trying to understand how it had gotten so out of control. There appeared to have been a routine of responding to every event by going into survival mode so that I was defending our very existence against episode after episode of calamity; this last and most profound being my new status as a convict.

In the most elemental terms I could break it down to I needed to deal with this and get ahead of it. I had spent twenty years exhausting myself in the endless effort to survive the chaos. This time, I would deal and jump ahead of it so I was laying the track for where my life would head, not letting circumstances or situations others had created, in which I found myself, determine my fate.

I could, in retrospect, see when the order had changed. I had taken control when I powered through high school, got a scholarship and left for college. Sometime while working at the bar, I had become stagnant and without focus or direction and allowed Ray St Claire to distract me. I had two children I loved out of the deal and wouldn't have traded them for a hundred years of direction and purpose but I could have done better by them. There would always be regret there. Now that I had time to think, I might set the future right; fix the now and then direct the future, never taking my eye off the brass ring again.

I thanked the spirits for the clarity, asked for strength and direction in my endeavors and to please, above all else, keep my children safe.

### 64) Early July, Carson City, Nevada

It was a grueling two weeks before I heard from anyone again and it wasn't pleasant. Ray came to see me. I thought he must be in big trouble to step foot into a penitentiary. I almost refused seeing him thinking he must have lost hold of Eve, the last thread of control he had over me and my family but I hadn't heard from either Ray2 or Eve so I couldn't take any chances. When I saw him I was struck by the incredible change in him. In three months he had turned almost half grey. Of course I had no idea if he had been dyeing his hair but I didn't think so. He was pretty high on himself and wouldn't think going grey would hurt his looks. There were bags under his blood shot eyes and he was thinner with his back bent and shoulders rounded down as he leaned his elbows on his knees, smoking. It struck me how odd it was we had the privilege of smoking in public while in jail but free people in California would be breaking the law by doing the same.

"Hi Pen" said warm and serious like we were long lost friends. "You look good; damn good Pen. I miss you."

"What do you want?" Although part of me was gloating that he was clearly in discomfort, I was still human. It was hard to see someone who was once so arrogant, fallen. I turned my head from him unwilling to look at him as he spoke. He didn't deserve my sympathy.

He must have felt my disgust because he started right in with, "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me? You always think about yourself, Pen. What about me? Did it ever occur to you that I was living my own kind of hell, married to someone who was cold as a fish; someone who grew to hate me just for existing? Did you ever think about that Pen? Looked down upon, scorned by the person I have given my whole life to, all the while, loving you more every day."

"Cut the crap Ray or I'm leaving. I'm not that starved for company. What do you want?"

He ran his hand through his still thick locks in the traditional Ray manner and I knew the real reason for the visit would come next. "I need to find Ray2."

"What do you want with him? He's finished with you Ray. While you were 'all the while, loving me more every day', he was growing to hate me for allowing you to terrorize us and destroy our lives. If you think I am going to help you find him, you can go home. That will never happen."

With that his once crystal colored eyes turn as dark as the deepest lake and the anger released itself. He was crazy. He couldn't contain himself and I wondered had this always been there, simmering beneath every word and thought?

He spat as he spoke in a fiercely menacing whisper. "You had better help me find him. He has something of mine and it may very well get your precious little prince killed, in fact much more than that Pen. The people I owe that stuff to don't just kill people. That is way too benevolent."

"Give him Eve and he'll give you back the car."

"She's gone."

"What does that mean?"

"Just what I said it does you stupid bitch. What in the hell he thinks he is doing for her, I don't know. Do you know what they would do with Eve if they got ahold of her? She could pay back what I owe them on returns within a few years and they would still be after me. I couldn't live with that. I was protecting her, not caging her. What did you think; that I was holding on to her for fucking company? If that mother fucking son of bitch would just bring me back that car this would be over with. Can you talk to him Pen? Can you do that for me because I am out of cards here. You want to protect your kids? Have Ray2 call me and give me back that fucking car!"

### 65) July, Carson City, Nevada

By late July I hadn't heard from Ray2 or Eve and I hadn't heard any more from Ray. I had spent my last four Sundays on my own. I called Madeline to try to enlist help from her but she never answered. I even called Dawn one day. That didn't go so well. I suppose I was never as gracious to her as I could have been so I don't know what I expected. I guess I was just lonely or clutching at whatever strings I had to the outside world. We spoke for about twenty minutes and she seemed like she had always been. I thanked her for her support and then after a short lull in the conversation she said, "I know you are in a bad place right now and you are trying to stay afloat but I can't help you. I really don't want you to call me again." It shocked me. I thought Dawn was fond of me. It never crossed my mind that she would judge me unworthy though it should have. My face burned with shame. I had not involved myself with anyone outside of Ray or my children in twenty years and now what little attachment I had to the outside world was gone.

*** There were one hundred and fifty men and only eight women in the camp. They had asked me to tutor other inmates who were working toward their GED and I had refused using the excuse that I would be gone soon so they should look for someone who could help students long term. Really, I didn't want to rub elbows with the prison population. There were many people in the camp who had committed serious crimes. They were just in a transition from maximum security to the outside world. After a month without speaking to anyone but Dawn who asked me not to call again, I went over to the library to tell them I was available.

I had been living in my own world for the last five months, writing. It served two purposes. It kept me in a sort of trance, anesthetizing me from the anger and frustration. And at the same time, it provided a kind of catharsis. I had felt frustrated and powerless, as though I had been thrust through a life controlled by circumstance and fate. When I wrote, the events of the past came from the submerged pockets of my subconscious and landed on paper, freeing me from the responsibility of custodianship. The more I wrote, the "newer" and freer I became.

Now my exercise was coming to an end. Documenting it and letting go of it meant I could focus on the future. I hadn't heard from Ray2 in a month and from Eve even longer. I was becoming uncontrollably restless and no amount of writing could help. Since the last visit from Ray in which he insinuated my children could be in danger, I hadn't had a single word from the outside world.

I had a month left and I was counting the hours. I tutored, worked in the library, gardened, and exercised about two hours a day to get myself to a state of exhaustion so that I could sleep. Several of the inmates had ready access to drugs, pot or sleeping pills if I so desired but I wanted to stay clear and sharp. And while I was thinking so clearly, I thought of Darrell Obregon. Next Sunday I would have someone to call. I would have purpose and a direction. I was buoyed by the thought and felt myself strong and my senses heightened. I could do this. I could find my kids and move on.

### 66) August 2010, Carson City, Nevada

It took a while for me to accept it but I finally realized Dawn wasn't the only one who had baled on me. I hadn't spoken to Madeline in two months either. I would have thought it would have taken terminal cancer to break our bond but I was wrong. I believe being isolated for so long made me incapable of seeing relationships in a proper perspective. I had always viewed Ray as this overwhelming force that was preventing me from having a connection with anyone or anything other than him but now that I was free I didn't have a successful relationship to my name. I could face it, lonely as it was, but I hoped with all my heart that the inability to establish lasting meaningful relationships had not been implanted so firmly in my children's beings that they would be destined to spend their lives in isolation as well.

Even sitting in the yard as I waited for Darrel, a group of five women sat at a table a few dozen feet away in deep conversation, and I sat alone. I was a convicted criminal who didn't want to be friends with convicted criminals; I wanted to be friends with healthy successful business people like Madeline and Dawn. That was pretty hopeless.

I was early, enjoying the fresh air and the feeling of the wide open. Darrel showed up right on time. He was able to come during the week because he told them he was there at the behest of my attorney. If you could see Dale you would laugh at the idea that he used a word like "behest". He looked like a mongrel. Carole was right to warn me. I would have been wary. As it turned out he was uncannily good at what he did; a gentle but dogged investigator and I felt my heart energized as he loped toward me across the now brown natural prairie grass that covered the recreation area.

We sat at the table as I outlined what I needed from him. He didn't question me, lecture me or judge me. He nodded and I was glad to see did not take notes. I would be out in a few weeks and I wanted to hit the ground running.

Darrel came twice more before I sat before the parole board for review. He could not find Ray2 and Eve. The house was at first empty and then had been rented again, just a few weeks after I had seen Ray2. Darrel had spoken to the landlord who was very apologetic but said rent hadn't been paid in six months. That devil Ray hadn't paid rent ONCE since I was arrested.

Darrel said none of Ray2 or Eve's friends seemed to know where they had gone. He said they were not reluctant to talk to him, that they were anxious to tell him that Ray2 and Eve had said they wouldn't tell anyone because they didn't want them to know so no one could tricked into telling. Darrel said as of yet, their passport cards had not been used to cross the Canadian border which was my first thought. He had checked, on his own, to see if they had been used to enter Mexico, but they hadn't to my great relief. The one piece of news that was not a relief was that universally, the kids thought Ray2 and Eve had left in the Subaru and no talk had been made about dumping it. We couldn't ask the police to search for it as it had stolen plates and God knows what else associated with it. I don't know why to this day, Ray2 couldn't let that go.

Darrel checked with the Monarch retirement community where my mom lived. They had gone to see her. I thought that was wonderful. They had done that just for me; just because they knew it was something that would have been important to me. It meant a lot. I could feel invisible threads of connection to them though I didn't know where they were and felt unconnected to anything else on this earth.

Madeline wouldn't speak to Darrel, wouldn't even see him. Jason spoke to him finally, in the driveway and told him the next time either one of them saw him they would call the law. She was on my shit list and if I didn't do anything else when I got out I was going to slap the shit out of her. All I wanted to know, all Darrel wanted to know, was if they had seen or heard from my kids. She had sent a bank card in the mail, to the community center but it was to an account that only had 10,000 dollars in it. What did that mean? They were loaded. They couldn't possibly want my money.

Darrel did not have any more luck locating Ray then Ray2 and Eve. He had pages upon pages of reports to give me about all he had done but I wasn't interested. He said everyone and their brother was looking for Ray, that he was literally stumbling over other people, passing them in and out of towns and buildings as they were all looking for Ray. It didn't surprise me. Darrel had thought he would run across him when he was looking for Ray2 and Eve as they still had the car. He was going to straighten it all out for me; give the car to Ray, get Ray2 a new one and see he made it to college but none of that happened. School started in five days and Ray2 had never even filled out the application for a dorm room though we had discussed it exhaustively.

The 10,000 in the account was almost gone. I had bought a car, paid Darrel and still owed him some. Now the toll was upwards of 100,000 including the money I had lost from not working since Cindy died and all of the foraging I had done to rebuild my now useless stores of stuff. My hatred festered as now every obstacle or problem I encountered I viewed as having manifested themselves as a result of my ever having met Ray.

While I was fuming, I had not lost sight of the fact there was a victim here besides me but she was dead. I had mourned Cindy. I would mourn her again. And if I could ever see myself clear of this I intended to do everything I could to see Ray paid for it. I practiced breathing slowly and deeply. Angry as I was, I needed to focus on saving what was left of my life and finding my children.

### 67) Pre 1990, St Louis, MO

Before I had ever heard of Ray St. Claire, I worked as a cocktail waitress at Campinis, an elegant bar in St. Louis' Old Town District. The whole area had been rebuilt with redevelopment money back in the 80's so the rent was high and the clientele was upper crust if that's possible in a bar.

I worked four nights a week and made more than I could have working fifty hours a week across the street in one of the accounting firms that occupied the expensive office space that had been developed on the revamped waterfront. They charged the big bucks but funneled the work to low paid grunts like me which was the best my four year degree in accounting had ever done for me.

I had dreams of getting an MA in English Lit, teaching at a community college and maybe writing something someday. The whole cocktailing thing worked well for me. The hours never interfered with school. I talked to people all night long but never became close enough to anyone to obligate myself with friendships or relationships and the staff treated me well; really well.

Johnny Rocket, and yes that was his real name, put me on a pedestal and set the standard for behavior toward me by every employee that ever worked there. He was old and had lost one child sometime back to an overdose of recreational drugs and the other one, a son, lived in Oregon. He rarely saw him. I was a surrogate child and probably provided the closest thing he had to a relationship.

One night about twenty minutes before closing I walked the floor to check with my last customer to see if he wanted a final drink before the bar closed. "Alan" gave off some, what I would call "unhealthy" vibes. I always approached him with caution and remained a foot or more further from the table than I normally would when taking an order. Everything about him reeked of threat. Not old school, old mafia, old man mellowed like Marlon Brando in the Godfather or fat and kind James Gandofini in the Sopranos kind of threat but like "right now I am on active duty" kind of threat.

I wondered if he was just the amped up macho type who practiced projecting the image for kicks or if he really was "on the job". The only problem with that theory was this end of old town catered to the five hundred dollar an hour law firms and accounting practices that occupied entire floors of the renovated high rises in the area, not your average thug hang out.

Alan cocked his head and squinted his eyes. His eyebrows connected in the center and formed an upside down V as he beckoned me closer by tipping up his chin repeatedly. It seemed as though he should click his tongue and say "here girl" but he didn't take it quite that far.

I asked him if I could get him a last drink while remaining the customary distance but it seemed he wanted more. He asked, "Can I see you over here for a minute?" I asked what was up; being careful to steer away from the more welcoming "What can I do for you".

"I was wondering if you could do something for me."

His head was still now but tilted as he looked at me out of the corner of his eye. I noticed his hand sat unnaturally on the table covering a folded piece of paper and I wondered if he wanted me to deliver a message. I looked around wondering who else in the bar was watching this exchange but we were completely unobserved. Mike, the bartender was at the far end of the bar with his back to us watching something on TV with his two remaining customers.

Carl, our huge black doorman had left his post, probably outside having a last smoke. Johnny who was rarely ever out of his office probably wasn't watching the security cameras at such a quiet time of night but I was pretty sure Alan knew that as he watched me scan the room.

I stood my ground and waited for him to elaborate. I wasn't going to be any more cooperative. I didn't even want him talking to me anymore with Carl outside.

"I wonder if you could keep an eye on someone for me?" ...and as he said it, fingers on the hand that was covering the folded paper started pushing bills out, just a half inch, one at a time, so I could see there were quite a few. I didn't want anything to do with Alan, which I didn't believe for a minute was his real name, but for some reason I can't account for I made an involuntary move closer to the table. I remember wondering what kind of bills they were. I was quick with numbers and I was just curious as there was such a huge difference between a dozen twenties and a dozen hundreds. Wouldn't anyone be curious to know what kind of up-front money people tossed out for simple surveillance work?

"Everybody here is too tight for that Alan, you are barking up the wrong tree."

He had seen me look at the money and now probably assumed I was interested so I kept my eyes on his as I refused him.

His forefinger tapped the table as though attempting to tempt me further but I stood my ground.

"Alan we are closing. This is last call."

"I'm not talking about anyone here Mel, hell I wouldn't ask you to do that. We're all friends here."

"Alan, you're a customer. You don't work here and right now I just need to know if you want one last one or not." I checked back to Mike at the bar to see if he was looking at me for that last order but he was oddly still turned completely facing away from me.

"I thought this might help out with tuition or that outstanding visa balance that looser Richards left you with. This is easy work and I think you'll like the guy, he's got a way with the ladies."

He still fingered the bills in tiny almost imperceptible motions. It was no longer stacked up it was spread in a tight fan that I could see out of my peripheral vision. I refused to look back down and refused to respond to his obvious power play. I did not like Alan at all now. I regretted every time I had spoken to him in a civil manner. Where I had previously thought my job was ideal because I enjoyed companionship simultaneous with anonymity, I now realized I had let my guard down. I didn't feel the protection I had felt earlier. In fact it suddenly dawned on me how odd it was that Carl was outside, Mike's back was to me, and Johnny hadn't come out to close up as he usually did.

"I'm guessing you don't want that drink, Alan so I'll say good night. I've got some work to get done before I clock out."

"Let Mike do it Penny."

"I'm not going to take you up on this Alan. I don't want to get tangled up in your shit. I keep to myself and I want it to stay that way."

"There's no shit to get tangled up in Penny. You keep an eye on this guy you're probably going to want to fuck anyway and then talk to me a few times a year. In a few years you're teaching at some college out west, this will all be behind you and you will never hear from Alan Wasserman again."

It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to guess that Alan Wasserman was no soothsayer. Nothing he said came to pass in the way he said it would.

### 68) August 2010, Lake Tahoe

Seated behind the wheel of the "new" nine year old ford focus Darrel had picked up for me, I took stock as I looked out over the crystal clear lake. Summer vacationers crawled past me oblivious to the dissimilarity in our objectives.

I was feeling sharp and alive. I could smell the evergreens and even the gas and car oil cooking on the gravel that covered the turnout. There was no chaos and cacophony confusing me now. I wasn't weary, in fear, broke, or tired. I felt strong. I had spent years of disassociating myself from a world I couldn't control, even pushing my kids away because I couldn't help them or face the responsibility of the life they were consigned to. I didn't feel that way now. Incarceration had provided a means for catharsis and clarity.

The first thing I needed to do was get my money. I had a dependable car, a laptop, a cell phone, and a small gun that I had no idea how to use but I was out of cash. Madeline wasn't returning my calls and I wasn't going to leave her a message so my visit would be unannounced. It was probably better it had worked out that way. I didn't need anyone tracking my moves. After I saw her I was going to go looking for my kids and that might get complicated. I didn't know if Ray was still looking for Ray2 or what kind of trouble they might have gotten into with that car. It was hard to fathom how they could have disappeared so efficiently that Dale couldn't find them. Thinking about how hard it would be for two teenagers to evade a seasoned professional scared me. I just had to have faith in Ray2. I prayed to the spirits to watch over them and guide them.

When my kids were safe, Ray was next. If he wasn't dead it wouldn't be long before he showed up and when he did I was going to end it once and for all. As long as there was Ray, I would be shackled by all the tentacles that tied me to him. No matter how many I cut, ten more would grow in return.

If there was no more Ray, I couldn't imagine what Allan Wasserman could want with me. He had gone from paying me to keep an eye on Ray to bullying me and then threatening me. Our arrangement hadn't involved any money exchange in over fifteen years but that hadn't detoured Alan. He always managed to find his little rat and extract anything and everything he could from me. He was especially brutal whenever I had been visited by the law. Nothing I said, no information I gave, ever appeased him. It took me a time or two of trying before I understood he just enjoyed the brutality. He had broken two of my fingers smashing them in the car window one day when he met me while I was dropping Eve off at the rec center. That had been back in Las Vegas when agent Barbara Manfred was staying with us. The anthrax mailers might not have known the Feds were in the neighborhood but Allan sure did. My talking to the law earned me that visit. You would think I would have told the FBI but when Alan told me he would find Eve and kill her, I believed him.

So Asshole Allan was next on my list. I was tired of having that monkey on my back. He was the reason I had laid down and taken the blame for Cindy's murder. "Don't talk to the law Pen. I don't like it." But what good had keeping my mouth shut amounted to?

It crossed my mind how I would have liked to share this new resolve with Cindy but she was dead and I couldn't find Karen to tell her. I would have liked to have maybe shared a glass of wine in celebration so they would know Ray had been taken care of. But then, who really knew? Maybe Karen was still pining over Ray, wishing he'd come back to her and make everything right. Maybe Cindy was in heaven right now waiting for Ray to join her. Women were like that. Though I wouldn't be able to satisfy Karen, I might be able to do something for Cindy

###

Thank you for reading my first book

It would be wonderful if you could post a review on smashwords.

Please recommend it to your friends!

Look up the next in the "sort of" series FRUIT OF THY WOMB.

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/authormmmaxwell:

Coming soon: FRUIT OF THY WOMB See exerpt below

email the author at: write2mmmaxwell@gmail.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authormmmaxwell

MARCH, 1986, New York City, NY

Though many men wanted to, few could afford to touch her, which made her job less demanding than it might have been. She compared herself to professional athletes and movie stars. It was the same thing. Athletes and movies stars were a dime a dozen. The ones that made it big were far and few between. Whores were the same. Most worked their ass off and lived a hard life, some worked hard and lived a good life and a small few made more than six figures working less than thirty days out of the year.

At first she had been like everyone else with only one exception. She had a brain to go with the body. It had been hard at first but things had gotten better when Angela, the "Headmistress" had found her. Angela was fair with her women and knew a goldmine when she saw one. Though Carmel was willing and able to put in hard time, the work for Angela was not demanding. Carmel received a salary and Angela sent her customers. Some of the sex, even with the toads, had served a purpose beyond monetary gain. It had also satisfied her own ravenous hormonal cravings and then when she had started exclusively with Alex Chen, it had become as though she didn't have a job at all.

It had taken two years and a hundred thousand dollars for Chen to buy her contract out right. That had been six years ago and she was now too old and too well fed for Chen's tastes but he was a kind old man. He kept her because she was one of the few people left that had known him for any length of time. All of his friends and family were long dead. He had had the occasional young whore. She had seen to it for him and even joined and watched now and then as was needed to nurture their relationship. Gone were the days of rough sex. He seemed to more and more just want to talk though he made the pretense of taking his clothes off and entering the bedroom before he spoke. He was full of old traditions and likely worried he would be thought of as foolish to be confiding in a whore. He didn't know how many men were like him, buying sex but wanting comfort and companionship. She had had some good years living in luxury, milking it for all it was worth, and he seemed to know and not be bothered by it.

Then one day, when Carmel had thought life might go on like this for all eternity, Chen had had a heart attack in her bed and died before the EMTs arrived. At first she was stunned. Though he was 87 he had been built like a boy. A fit old man, his skin clung to his lean body like that of child, rarely folding in wrinkles. Lying sprawled on her bed with his eyes shut, his face looked beatific. Sitting beside him, though she was sure already, she put her finger under his nose to check for breathing. As she sat there, she had a momentary fleeting thought that she might have had something that could have passed for feelings for this man, and then it was gone. What would happen now?

LATE AUGUST, 2008, CATHEDRAL CITY, CALIFORNIA

Pen St Clair sat on the barren cement patio that overlooked the desert basin. There was nothing but a single dirty white plastic chair on the patio and she was sitting in it. She had a cigarette in her hand and was tapping it on the top, then the bottom, the top, then the bottom, letting the cigarette slide through her forefinger and thumb, prolonging the time before she lit it.

It was hot as hell. Literally. The radio had been reporting temperatures of 124 degrees at the peak of the day. It was noon and it was so hot that she couldn't even tell if she was sweating. She lifted her arm to smell under her armpit but nothing; no smell; barren; just like her patio and the landscape surrounding it.

Her face still hurt; some from the beating she had taken and some from the surgery to reset the tooth that had been knocked out. She raised her empty hand to her jaw to feel around through her cheek. The tooth felt solid. That was good. She knew she shouldn't be smoking. Not so much because she gave a shit about the emphysema but because the stitches in her mouth wouldn't heal if she was oxygen deprived. She rationalized this would be one of only two or three cigarettes today, down from the ten a day she had allowed herself while she had been incarcerated. She wasn't going to smoke it now anyway. It was too hot. She was just playing with it while she considered what to do about her landlord letting herself into her private little cottage and rifling through her belongings while she was out.

The bitch had an edge to her. Pen had seen it the moment she met her. The woman was like a shape shifter locked in an admirable form that she didn't completely own. Her other self was still there. Pen could see it though she doubted any others could. Pen had watched the woman's husband drive in and out of the gated entryway below. He sometimes parked in front of the house in the circular driveway and Pen would watch him walk into the house. He looked like an all- star athlete with his long legs and confident gait; an innocent, hard-working man.

The woman had given him two good children. She probably loved them. Knowing that made Pen's heart soften toward the woman and consider again what she might do about the invasion. Pen did not want to give up the cottage. It had several advantages. The cottage sat on a small flat shelf on an otherwise nearly vertical rocky mountain. The driveway up to the cottage was narrow and very difficult to negotiate. Behind the cottage the jagged mountain rose at such an angle that even experienced climbers wouldn't attempt to negotiate it. She was well protected. Even someone approaching on foot would slip on the jagged rocks unless they had some foreknowledge about the exact path to take from the driveway.

Second, the cottage sat at the very back of a cove of mountains. The view, if you were weird enough to like the desert landscape, would be considered breathtaking. What appealed to Pen was that you could see 180 degrees. It would be impossible to approach the cottage without her knowledge. That was invaluable to her. It was why she had jumped to rent it in the first place - but how to put the Mistress of the main house in check. That was the question now eating at her as she tapped her cigarette from top to bottom. Pen didn't think threatening her would be wise. The shape shifter might not scare very easily and Pen was not normally an aggressive person. In fact she hated confrontations of any kind. Aggressive people could see that and use it against her. She thought it best to put the question aside and concentrate on what she had come for in the first place.

Once, when her children were young, they had all run away. They had passed through the desert and stayed the night and Ray2 had loved it. He had said over and over that he didn't want to go any further. "Couldn't we just stay here?" She had no idea what had attracted him to the place though others before him had found some allure as well. She had asked each time he begged to stay, "Why here, Ray2?" He had just breathed deeply and said he didn't know but he loved it. They eventually dug a cactus from the rocky hillside and potted it and carried it with them through several moves and several years before they lost it when her husband drove a tractor trailer load of their belongings off a cliff.

Ray2 had said, once or twice in the years that followed, that he would go back there one day. It was the only place on earth that Pen could think of that he had claimed any sort of allegiance to which was why she was here today. He had disappeared with his sister over three months earlier and she had to find them. This was the only place she could think of to look.
