 
Love Is... Blind

Gabriela Louis

Published by Books For The Hungry at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 Gabriela Louis

Discover other titles by Gabriela Louis

Second Chances: The Power of Renewal

Second Chances: The Power of forgiveness

Second Chances: The Power of Hope

Cover Designed by Anthony Jacobs

Edited by Anthony Jacobs at AnthonyJacobs@booksforthehungry.com

and Danny Cross at DannyCross@booksforthehungry.com
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold

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This is a work of fiction. All names, characters,

and settings are product of the author's imagination.

Any resemblance to actual events,

names, locales, organizations,

or persons living or dead,

is entirely coincidental.

Love is... Blind @ 2016 Gabriela Louis

Ed. 2

Dedication

I want to thank my husband and children for their support. Thank you

I want to thank my dearest friends for their encouragement. Thank you
Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

About the author
Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,

Philippians 2:3 
Prologue

"Who were you talking to?"

"Oh! Mother you scared me. I was just speaking to our neighbor. He just moved in."

"What kind of conversation can you have over the fence? He could be a psycho killer and you wouldn't know it."

"Mother, I think you need to give me a little freedom. I'm twenty-three years old, and I have a kid. I think I can choose to speak to a neighbor or not."

"That's my point exactly, but you forgot one thing: you are a twenty-three year old single mother."

"So were you."

"You are right. I was a single mother because my husband, your father, was killed."

"You are being cruel now. I don't regret my daughter."

"Sweet heart, neither do I. I regret the circumstances. You are too naive to know the horrors that the world has hidden around in every corner."

"Mother, back up a little. I need some space and you are pushing me away with your hovering. I need to be able to make mistakes and learn from them."

"Well, the mistakes you made before affected you, and me. The mistakes you are making now, affect your daughter as well. Its time to be responsible."

"I am not as bad as you paint me to be. Mom, I need some space."

"Space you said, well young lady, I see you making the same mistakes over and over again and you have a child to worry about. Each boyfriend you bring home is a total loser. They have no job, no skills, and no education. From now on, as long as you are living in my house, you will follow my bidding."

"Mother would you like us to move? That's it, isn't it? You want us to move."

"You are intentionally twisting my words, but let's assume that's what I want. Do you really think you can afford to move on your own?"

"Mother you are intentionally putting me down."

"Josie, you are old enough to handle criticism. Life is not against you. Your decisions are against you. Every decision you make is impulsive and then you are not happy at the end."

"I think you want us to move."

"This conversation is going in circles. I know right now you don't have the means. Let's not stress about it until you do."

"We need to discuss this because if you want us out of here I can start saving."

"That would be the day. So far I am the reason you have accomplished anything in your life."

"You are right. I am thankful that you were a good mother, and while I needed you the most, you were there for me."

" I am glad you see my way."

"Actually, I am not done, yet. You are also right, I think it's time for Vicky and me to move on our own."

"You can leave if you figure out how, but think carefully about your decisions. They don't affect just you, but my granddaughter as well."

"Mother, I don't know what's the matter with you, but I'm going to my room before I say something I'll regret later."

Ivonne stood there stupefied. How in the world did this conversation get so out of hand?
17 You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.

Revelations 3:17
Chapter 1

A shadowy figure sat behind the wheel of a nondescript dark colored sedan parked curbside on a dimly lit street. The car was parked under a tree, making it even harder to see the dark figure seated in it. The bill of the baseball cap on his head hid his dark, sinister expression as he watched the junkies and whores pass by on the other side of the street. He despised their kind. They were weak, needy, and best of all, estranged from their families. Most of them could die tonight and nobody would ever miss them. He had done this before and had proven this theory again and again. Nonetheless, his skin prickled in anticipation. He slowed his breathing and forced himself to calm down. If he rushed into this, he knew that he would make a mistake, and that would not end well for him. He was going to take his time and do it right, so he needed to pick the right victim this time.

After waiting for about an hour, she finally came stumbling down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. She was a woman of average height with light brown hair and curves in all the right places. She was wearing shoes with heels that teetered when she walked, and made her look like a giraffe walking on a tightrope. She was obviously drunk, and on several occasions, she staggered into trees and streetlights.

He quietly slipped out of his car after disabling the dome light to try not to draw attention to himself. He crossed the street behind the woman and came up on her from behind. He timed it perfectly, and just as she stumbled into a street sign, he gave her a good solid nudge with his shoulder. Her head hit the street sign with a loud bang! He caught the woman easily as she sank to the sidewalk unconscious. He hefted her up and propped her arm over his shoulder. He crossed the street with her and plopped her into the passenger seat of his car. He was careful to put her seat belt on her, after all, it wouldn't do to get pulled over for a seatbelt infraction now. When he sat down behind the steering wheel, he reached over and hit her viciously in the jaw. It also wouldn't do for her to wake up yet, he thought.

The car drove away from the curb, and the man behind the wheel grinned in anticipation. "This will show that worthless piece of garbage," he said to himself. "Wait until she sees the surprise I have in store for her. She's going to wish she had never messed with me."

The car pulled up to the curb in back of, and around the corner from the townhouse where he knew the witch lived. No one would disrespect him again.

He parked and got out of the car. Going to the back door of the townhouse, he picked the lock, and entered. After a quick search, he discovered that he had the place to himself.

A few minutes later, the woman lay face down on the bathroom floor with her hands tied behind her. He looked at himself in the mirror, and hardly recognized himself. He was wearing a surgical mask and gown, with a plastic raincoat and plastic shoe covers, as well as a plastic head cover and rubber gloves. He pulled a long, wicked looking knife out of its sheath, and the light reflected off the blade.

The woman stirred and began to struggle against the phone cord that bound her wrists together. The man reached down and grabbed the woman by the hair, pulling her head back, and at the same time, in one fluid motion drawing the blade across her throat. Bright red blood sprayed from her carotid artery and made arcing patterns against the white walls and ceiling of the bathroom. She struggled to get to her feet, and the man spun her around effectively decorating the entire bathroom in gore. As the blood loss caused her to lose strength, the man shoved her into the bath tub, where she landed on her back with a sickening thud. Unable to speak, the woman stared wide-eyed at her murderer, with questioning eyes, and made a gurgling sound before losing consciousness for the last time.

The man stepped back to admire his work. He looked at the lifeless body in the bathtub and wished that it could have been the witch, who so richly deserved it.

He hoped she got the message. He wished that he could see her face when she found this body. Now all he had to do was take the prize.

He had been prepared for this. This was his favorite part of the job. He smiled in anticipation. The man removed the woman's head and hands and put them in a plastic garbage bag, which he put inside a bowling bag.

Before he could zip it, he heard a noise at the front door of the townhouse. It was not time yet. He had not finished. He had to clean up, but there was no time.

He picked up the bag, and ran toward the back door. Oh! He wanted to be near to hear her scream. He dove out the back door just before the front door opened, and rolled to a stop under some bushes in the back yard.

Quickly, the man stripped off the bloody raincoat, mask, head cover, surgical gown and shoe covers, and threw them in the bowling bag with the head and hands. He had never done such a sloppy job. He waited a few seconds before running to his car. Unfortunately, he could not risk being seen by a neighbor and hearing her scream was not worth his freedom. The last time he came too close.

As he walked through the back gate, he paused one more time. He heard someone in the house, but no scream yet. Shame.

The man hurried to his car, just a few yards away from the house. He opened the trunk and placed his prized positions there, then stripped off the gloves, and entered the car. Looking back through his rear view mirror one last time, the car slowly pulled away from the curb, and drove off down the road.
"When I am afraid, I put my trust in you."

Psalm 56:3
Chapter 2

Josie was looking at her new place. The excitement of choosing her own decorations and showing her fun personality was babbling out of her. She was ready to burst with euphoria. She took a moment to appreciate the empty canvas she had in front of her. She could imagine the walls painted in a soft pink color. She could imagine the pictures she was going to choose for the walls. This place was perfect for her. It was small, but it was absolute perfection. It was so cozy, she could feel the walls hugging her. Then, there was the outside. Right now it was surrounded by a very patchy yard. With tender loving care she could make their little yard look green, surrounded by beautiful flowers. The flowers she was going to plant around the little place were going to be colorful to brighten her day, no matter how difficult things got.

She knew that life was going to get impossible before it got better. For now she had used every penny to rent the place and buy a few necessities. She prayed everything would run smoothly for the rest of the month because, as of right now they did not even have money for groceries. For the rest of the month she would have to be extremely frugal.

Enough dreaming, she chastised herself. She needed to tackle a few of the boxes and find work clothes for the week and most importantly, she needed to find her laptop.

Tomorrow was Monday and she had to be ready to start the week. She hadn't even started on her lesson plans yet. Agh! She loved teaching, and she understood the importance of the lesson plans, especially for someone new at the job like she was, but now she was exhausted and did not see how she was going to muster the energy.

Since before Thursday, when she had realized that she finally had saved the money she needed to move, she had been overly excited and had been running on pure adrenaline. It had been hard not telling anyone about her plans until they had already been finalized, and she was glad she went through with it and followed her instincts. As soon as her mother found out that she had already moved most of their things, she had a conniption fit. Josie actually thought that she was going to have a heart attack or a stroke, but the guilt passed quickly when she tried to manipulate Josie through her daughter. Her daughter did not need to witness her mother losing control as she had done. Her mother had actually thrown a cup full of coffee at her and then pushed Vicky against the wall. Thank God the coffee had been cold. Josie could not believe that her mother had acted so childish and aggressive. What else could her mother expect when they had not been on speaking terms for the last few months. Her mother had been quiet, not speaking to her. If there was something Josie hated, was the silent treatment.

She loved her mother, but could not handle the oppression anymore, and even worse was the emotional blackmail. Josie understood that her mother was not going to initiate any type of conversation with her until she apologized and even though Josie loved her mother with all her heart, she did not know what to apologize for.

Josie was just so tired of all the arguments and she just did not know how to fight it. Her mother even took advantage of her faith. Oh! If her mother only knew how this whole thing was killing her inside. You must honor your mother and father, says the Bible, but what does it say when the mother does not respect the child? She needed to go back and look at it, but not right now. Right now she had more pressing matters to attend to, but the guilt was killing her. Even now, after the whole weekend had passed, she felt her mother's words weighing heavily on her soul and she knew that if something actually happened to her mother, she would go straight to hell for being a bad daughter.

She could not worry about something she couldn't change. That was just the way she was made. Now she needed to put her problems aside and make some sort of plans for tomorrow. She knew what she was supposed to teach, all she had to do was figure out how to teach it. Now where did she pack her laptop? She remember putting it in its case, right next to her school books, but it was not there. Was she so tired that she packed it in a box. Oh! she prayed it wasn't broken.

She had started tackling one box at the time, but had not even made a dent, and out of frustration had decided to leave the job for later and spend the afternoon with her daughter. Even though they had had a wonderful time, now she felt too tired to continue with this impossible task.

She would continue tomorrow. For now, she needed to sleep.
11 For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."

Luke 14:11
Chapter 3

Ivonne walked into her room and flopped on to her bed until the tears stopped coming. She was devastated. Everything seemed to go wrong for her, but she was not surprised as her life had been one calamity after another. Her life started with the death of her mother, and her father had made sure to tell her every time there was a chance. Her father never remarried, and until this day, she did not know if that part of her life had gone well. She would have loved to know how it felt to be loved by a mother or a father for that matter, as her dad never seemed to forgive her. In her senior year, her father died leaving her alone to fend for herself. There was nothing left for her, no money, no food, and no roof over her head. She had no grandparents, no cousins, and no uncles that she knew of. She had no one she could go to except her father's very old Chevy truck.

A week after her father's funeral, she met Chase. He was a rookie in the police department who had stopped her for driving erratically. Instead of a ticket, he gave her his number. It was love at first sight. She was barely eighteen, and he was twenty-five. They married almost immediately. Two years later he had to go and die, leaving her alone one more time.

She looked at the picture on her nightstand, tracing the face with a trembling finger as she spoke to it. She knew that the man in the picture could not hear her, but she spoke to him anyhow. "Chase, why did you had to go and die? Don't you know how difficult it is to be a single mother? Your daughter is just like you and I seem to be making so many mistakes. She is prideful and extremely stubborn.

"All through the years I've tried to be patient and understanding. I think I was too easy because she took advantage and started hanging out with the wrong crowd. She has been caught skipping school, drunk and shoplifting. Who knows what else she has done and gotten away with? Then I chose to cut her wings some, and set some boundaries, but it was too late. She came home pregnant and blamed the boy of rape, but there were no signs of a struggle.

"I had hoped that Vicky would help her mature, but that didn't happen. I've even tried to go against the grain and give her space, but that did not change the outcome. She has gone and moved to one of the worst neighborhoods in town. You used to go there answering domestic abuse calls on a weekly basis. Yes, that is where she has chosen to move. Who knows who her next boyfriend is going to be. I am afraid for Vicky. Every man she brings home is worse than the one before. I have tried introducing her to good men I have become acquainted with through church or through work, but she won't hear of it.

Today I got so angry when I found out she had already moved, that I lost my grip on my coffee and my cup slipped out of my hand. Oh! Chase, why did you have to die. I did not have good parents. I did not know how to do it. Oh! Chase, I am afraid for your daughter, but I am even more afraid for Vicky's safety. Please watch over them from heaven, as no matter how hard I tried, I've seemed to be doing it wrong.

Ivonne woke to the sound of the phone.

"Hello"

"Hi sweet heart."

"Chase?"

"Ivonne! Chase is dead. When are you going to stop?"

"Oh, Ken, hi."
The Lord will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

Psalm 121:7-8
Chapter 4

Jerome Parker was one of the few people in the office who did not dislike the secretary. Every morning, he made sure to approach her and greet her. He did not know her circumstances, and chose to be friendly. Today, though, he was surprised when she was not at her usual place.

In the three years he had worked with Ivonne, not once had she been sick or even late to work. Well, good for her. Everybody needed a mental health day once in a while. Besides, the other agents in the office needed to realize how much they depended on her.

He knew that no one at the office cared for her, but he did. In his opinion, the job had sucked the joy of living out of her just as it was doing to him. He had transferred from the local police department because the money was better, but he was beginning to realize that the extra money was not worth it.

No one in the office seemed to be friendly or helpful, and even though Ivonne was not friendly, she was efficient. Her work ethics made his life so much better. She was reliable and organized. She always completed her tasks to perfection and in a timely manner, and in the last three years she had never taken a day off.

Although, she was a difficult person to get to like, as she always pouted and grumbled at any task placed in front of her, he enjoyed teasing her and was usually rewarded by a beautiful blush and a smile.

Their supervisor, so busy with his own ego, ignored the needs of the office and the agents. He ignored the minor problems until they became monumental and they were impossible to fix. He had not even noticed his secretary missing until he had needed a file. Everyone knew that without Ivonne, the boss would drown in his own stupidity and carelessness. The only thing that the boss had going for himself was that he had connections in high places.

When Jerome had come into his office to discuss a problem on one of his cases, the boss had looked at him. The boss's eyes were shadowed; his hands were moving piles of papers from one side to the next, and opening and closing drawers. He had no idea what to do without his assistant. Jerome wanted to laugh at the confusion he was seeing, but was too polite to do so.

"Have you seen the Chavez's file?" The boss asked.

"I put it on your desk three weeks ago for you to sign. No I have not seen it since then."

"Is Ivonne at her desk, yet?"

"No, I just came from there. She didn't ask for the day off?"

The boss looked up at him, eyes lost in the distance. Unfortunately, the confusion only lasted a second, because he immediately cleared his head, and saw Jerome anew. It was as if the light bulb turned on. Wham! Just like that, he became the go boy. Even though he was drowning in paperwork himself and had more than his share of cases open, the boss had sent him to find out Ivonne's whereabouts. When he had tried to refuse, the boss had done what he did best... He had ordered him to go and check on her. He did not mind getting out of the office, but he was overwhelmed with the amount of work, and the US Attorney was demanding the paperwork be completed. It was a good thing he did not have family or commitments because lately he found himself working evenings and weekends. Every time he thought he had made a dent in his caseload, they would assign him a few extra cases just to make sure he did not have the time to socialize and meet someone.

He did not mind the extra work. He just minded that there were other people in the office who could have their weekends and evenings ruined as well. He was almost thirty, single and completely unattached. He made a six-figure salary and had no one to spend it with. He wanted to have what his best friend and old partner had: a wife, kids and perhaps a pet or two. He wanted to have a reason to come home at the end of the day and he wanted to look forward to weekends at home; instead, to avoid loneliness, he looked for any excuse to come to the office and work.

Well, he was here now. The house was maybe fifteen hundred square feet, surrounded by well-manicured grass, with a few rose bushes surrounding the house, as well as other assortment of colorful plants. It looked nice. Somehow, he could not picture Ivonne with a girly garden like this one. There was a lot more to this woman than she ever let anyone know. He wondered what was Ivonne's story? She never talked to anyone. She never smiled. Did she have a family? A husband, or perhaps children? The one thing he knew for a fact was that for the last three years since he had been transferred to this office, she had not taken a day off and had not even been late to the office, not ever. It was a wonder people had not noticed her absence today.

He walked slowly looking around the house, paying attention to every detail that would let him see who the real Ivonne was. He walked to the door. It was ajar, but the house was dark and silent. He unclipped his holster, and slowly pushed the door open all the way. The smell was nauseating. He used his left arm to cover his mouth and nose. He looked around and everything at first glance looked neat and clean. The smell, where was it coming from? He flipped the light switch on, and walked in. The first thing he noticed was that nothing looked out of the ordinary. The door opened to the living room area. There was a floral sofa and pink recliner, both facing the small television. The kitchen was to the left. It was tidy, no dirty dishes, not even a dirty spoon or a used coffee cup were in the sink. Toward the back of the kitchen was a round table with four chairs.

He looked behind the table to the back door and noticed that the handle had brown stains. If it weren't for the smell, they could pass for finger paint. He looked around and saw similar stains on the floor coming from the hallway to the left. He took one more look around the kitchen and noticed some stains on the wall. They seemed to be part of the wallpaper pattern, but then he realized that it was something else. Some form of liquid, coffee or tea perhaps. Did someone decide to spray the whole place with whatever liquid that was? He was not ready to call it blood yet. He was not ready to get the kit yet. He looked at the hallway, where the smell was coming from, and then back at the rest of the house.

A child lived here, one of the chairs had a booster seat. There were also pictures on the wall of a younger version of Ivonne and her child. He ignored the stains, knowing they were not going anywhere and he needed to prepare himself mentally for what he knew was coming next. His brain kept screaming the word blood, but he chose to ignore what he knew was next. He approached the pictures and looked closely at the details instead. The woman could be Ivonne herself, as the young woman resembled the older version he knew, though Ivonne's eyes were hard. This younger version had laughing eyes. She seemed carefree. The young child in the picture was most likely the owner of the booster seat.

The place looked neat if he compared it to his home, but it seemed too clean for a home with a kid. Of course, the kid could just come to visit, but if this child was a regular visitor, shouldn't there be toys around? He had no reference to kids other than his sister's home, which had toys everywhere- one of the many things that drove him crazy every time he visited. The noise and the mess made him feel discouraged and confused. As much as he longed for a family, he knew that for him, singleness was best.

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine a stranger's home, a house he walked in for the first time, not one he expected to see. It was obvious he knew nothing of Ivonne's private life. As he had no idea there was a child in her life. The odd thing about it though was that the only indication a child had lived in this house was the booster seat. Nothing else.

To the right of the living area was a small hallway, also dark. After looking around one more time for anything he might have missed, he went to check it out. He wanted to hear something; anything that would let him know that Ivonne had just forgotten to close the door, but all there was was silence and that awful smell that was getting stronger as he walked toward the dark hallway. He knew what it was. He had smelled it before. He was just not ready to see it. Who was he kidding? He would never be ready to see what was producing the smell. The silence was grating on his nerves. He prayed it was not the child. Somehow that always made it worse.

There were three doors, two of them were closed, he assumed that the one in the middle was a bathroom and the other two were bedrooms. He called out Ivonne's name, but there was no response. He found the light switch on the left wall of the hallway and turned it on. Nothing. Either the bulb had burned out or someone had tampered with the lights. He grabbed his flashlight.

He stood still for a second, deciding on where to go next. There was something not quite right in here, and he had to check the three rooms before he called his boss.

He walked sideways toward the door that was open, not losing sight of the two closed doors. He peeked around the corner, making sure that no white-masked men jumped out at him. Somehow, thinking of his favorite scary movies comforted him. This room was a bedroom. The bed was made. There were clothes on the bed as if someone, getting ready to change, had placed them there. He was surprised that they were not work clothes, but shorts and a tank top. Funny, he could never have imagined Ivonne in relaxed attire. She always wore her hair in a tight bun, and her clothing consisted of dark suits that made her seem to be in constant mourning. He scanned the room quickly, never losing sight of the closed doors on the other side. Somehow he knew this was her room. The room reflected her stern personality. It was austere and devoid of any decor. Somehow the clothes on the bed bothered him. That was definitely not her style. The furniture was dark mahogany. There were a couple of pieces of makeup on top of the dresser, but nothing else. He was not married, but his limited experience with the female population had shown him that women used a lot more makeup than what was visible in this room. He was a bachelor, but he had sisters and had never seen their dressers clean of all the junk they used. Their junk, or valuables as they like to call it, varied from makeup to jewelry. Their mirror was a display case for all their pictures from one end to the other. It was hard to see one's own reflection. This room felt unused, or worse, it felt like a prison cell.

He walked to the door at the other end of the hallway. He opened the door slowly. The room was empty and did not match the rest of the house. It was untidy and in need of vacuuming. There were some children's toys on the floor and a pile of dirty clothes on the left corner farthest from the door. This room seemed to him like a normal room, even if it did not have furniture.

He eyed the last closed door one more time, wishing that this task had fallen on someone else. He knew he had to open it, but dreaded the task. Knowing what was waiting for him on the other side, he hoped it wasn't so - that horrible odor was unmistakable. Very slowly, holding his gun in his right hand, he turned the knob with his left hand. It was not locked.

Finding the room dark, he tried the light switch and nothing happened. He moved his flashlight from one end of the small room to the other. Blood covered every surface in the room, especially the floor. He saw the curtain and carefully approached it, making sure not to disturb anything. The smell intensified to a perfect stench when he pulled the curtain open and he let go of the air he had been holding in so determinedly.

Even though he was expecting something awful, he was still shocked at the sight. The blood had splattered all over the wall, the floor, the ceiling, even the door. The grotesque scene was worse than any he had seen in the past. Who could have done this? Poor Ivonne! He needed to get out and breathe. It was time to call the boss, but before that he would call Tom Kincaid. There was not a better detective in the area.
Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and he will establish your plans.

Proverbs 16:3
Chapter 5

Josie made a list of everything she had to get from her mother's house. She had emptied several of the boxes between yesterday and this morning and had not found her laptop. As a teacher, her laptop was her best friend. She had learned to rely on her laptop for her daily tasks and because of this she needed to go back to her mother's house and get it. If she planned it just right, she could be in and out of there before her mother made it home. She really wasn't strong enough for another confrontation right now and knew that she would not be able to keep her mouth closed if her mother started belittling her again. She had decided not to fight anymore and decided she would do everything in her power to avoid anything that would cause her guilt. She was done with the guilt.

It was easy to motivate herself while she was awake, but last night she had woken up with a terrible nightmare. It had truly been horrific.

Her mother was there, dressed in red tights and a red snuggly shirt that was two sizes too small, laughing at her. She even had horns and a tail and was holding Josie's sweet baby. Her mother looked beautiful wearing anything, but in her nightmare her mother looked terrifying. She had to figure out a way to make peace with her mother or she was not going to be able to find complete joy in her newfound freedom. All she needed was a little time.

Josie closed her eyes for a second. She had tried to do it right. Even though she did not get along with her mother, she loved her and had not wanted the relationship to be ruined. What other choice did she have? Moving out on her own was the only way she would be able to be a mother to her daughter. Moving away from her mother was going to be the only way that she might have the opportunity to meet someone and develop a relationship.

This time it really hadn't been her fault that her mother had blown a gasket. She had gone over the argument again and again in her head, and could not understand why speaking to the new neighbor was such a problem. Her mother had overreacted, but Josie was used to that, what she had not been used to was the silent treatment she had received – not for a day or two, but for the last few months. Her mother's pride was so important that she would rather lose her only child than to give in and admit she was wrong, but the worst thing had been when her mother started belittling Josie in front of Vicky.

Josie looked at the time in frustration, it was 2:20. The day went so slow; if anyone were to ask her what she taught, she wouldn't know. She called herself a good teacher? Ha!

She was just exhausted. Her students were ready to go when the bell rang and she needed to be ready as well. For the last hour, all her students had been reading and then illustrating their favorite parts of the book. She loved being a teacher, but today, she just went through the motions.

She smiled as she walked around the room. The pictures were adorable. She loved to see the mind's eye of children expressed in their art, even through the occasional stick figure. She was so blessed to have a job she loved. Her students gave her joy, but now she had to hurry up and go before she chickened out.

She hoped to be in and out before her mother showed up. All she needed was her laptop and perhaps the rest of her things, but she would not worry about those.

Maria Esperanza, her best friend and confidant since they were children, was taking care of Vicky. The last fight that happened between Josie and her mother had given Vicky nightmares. Josie and her mother were like a ticking bomb at the moment, and it was worse when they did not agree on something. Josie did not want to expose her daughter to anymore trauma. Josie took a deep breath to calm herself some, but the shaking did not stop. She hated drama. In and out, that is all she wanted to do and hopefully it would be uneventful.

Josie was planning on driving past the house first to make sure her mother wasn't there and if she was there, give Josie a little extra time to summon the courage to face her. Josie took a couple of deep breaths. Everything will go well, she told herself as she drove slowly by her mother's house.

As she was ready to drive by, she saw the lights. At first, she could not tell which house was surrounded by cops. The blue lights were everywhere. As Josie got closer, she began to breathe harder. All the police cars were parked in front of her mother's house. Did she give her mother a heart attack? If she had done that could she live with herself? Oh! Gosh! She needed to see her mother. She should've come to check on her sooner.

She quickly pulled over on the grass. There were no parking spaces available and she needed to see her mother. Her mother needed to be okay. There was no other choice. If something had happened...she could not think of it. It would have been her fault. She wished that she had been a better daughter. If only she had not lost her temper and had made sure her mother was okay. She opened her door, not even bothering to place the car in park or to turn it off, and ran into the house, catching everyone by surprise. She stopped by the door, took a second to look around, and then ran to the hallway where she saw her mother's room, and right next to it the bathroom. Blood, blood everywhere. Oh! "Mom please be okay, mom, please be okay. It's my fault! Forgive me. I know this is my fault!"

"Ma'am, ma'am, are you okay?"

Josie opened her eyes slowly, and at seeing all the faces looking at her, she opened her mouth to scream. Special Agent Jones, reacting and not thinking, put his hand over her mouth preventing what he knew to be an ear piercing scream. The woman was terrified, and he needed her to hear him before she decided to pass out again.

"Ma'am, ma'am you are safe with us. We're all cops. We won't hurt ...agh!! YOU BIT ME!"

Josie looked around, and realized that besides this large man holding her down her arms and legs were free. She saw his eyes. They had no feeling. They were dark and emotionless. She must be hallucinating because he was being quite gentle for someone she thought was trying to hurt her. Perhaps he was underestimating her. Her petite frame usually gave strangers the idea she was weak. Always go with your first instinct, escape! She would teach this oversized baboon a thing or two. As soon as he started talking, she acted. She looked around and made sure she had enough room to run. She would never be a victim again. She bit with all her might, and as soon as she felt the hand come off her face, she jumped and ran out the door.

"Woah! Hold it there."

"Let me go. Let me go!"

"I don't think so."

"Let me go! Who are you?"

"I'll be asking the questions here."

"I don't know anything! What happened to my mother?"

"Who is your mother? Who are you?"

"I need to go. Let me go."

"What is your name?"

"I don't know! I don't know! Let me go!"

"Why do you think something happened to your mother?"

"Do you think I'm dumb or blind, or perhaps both?"

Josie continued to struggle against the arms holding her, but it was impossible. He was a giant with a vice grip. He was holding her tightly and the more she moved the steadier his grip became. She was not going anywhere.

When the man did not answer, Josie looked at him trying to figure out what was going on. Did they think she had done this to her mother? Why was there blood all over the place? "Is my mother dead?"

Still no answer.

"You think I killed her, well I didn't. The last time I saw her she was fine."

Still no answer, the man was infuriating.

"Listen to me. I have a kid I have to pick up. My mom and I had an argument, but I didn't kill her."

"Let's start from the beginning. Give me your name please."

"I am Josie. My mother is Ivonne. This is her house."

"When was the last time you saw your mother?"

"Thursday, when we moved out."

"Who is we?"

"My daughter and I. She is only six. I need to go."

"You mentioned an argument."

"The argument is personal."

All he did was raise an eyebrow.

"Okay, I get it. She was upset because I wanted independence and she wanted control. She was upset. Period."

"Why were you moving?"

"Didn't you just hear me? I'm almost twenty-four with a kid. It was time for me to be on my own. How did she die?"

"We don't know yet. Why don't you tell us?"

"Aghh! You are not listening. I told you I didn't kill her. Who are you anyhow?"

"I am Special Agent Parker, and I am investigating this case."

"Is that my mother? Of course this is her house, but is that really my mother? I need to see her."

"You can't yet. Evidence."

"You don't seem to understand. I need to see her. It's important. I need to know that it's not her in there. If my mother were dead I would feel it all the way to my soul, so she cannot die."

Besides, it would all be my fault. Josie wanted to scream in frustration. She didn't want or need any more guilt, and for her mother to die like this would mean guilt for the rest of her life. That could not be her mother. Oh, please God don't let it be my mother. She thought.

"Well, actually, I don't understand. One minute you are screaming that it's your fault and the next you are telling me that she's not dead. Do I understand this correctly?"

"How can I answer that when I don't understand it myself? I need time to think."

"Let's start at the beginning. What is your fault?"

"Nothing. It's my fault I didn't do anything."

"Okay, what makes you believe she is dead?"

"Are you for real? Did you just ask me that question?"

"Okay, let's recap. You are here because ... well you haven't told me why and you and your daughter just moved out, but then again you are here. Why are you here?"

"I forgot my laptop and a few personal items when I moved out. I wanted to get them before my mother got home from work."

"Wouldn't that be breaking and entering?"

"Not if it's my mother's house. Is it?"

"You moved out. It stops being your home."

"But those are my things. I just didn't finish moving, yet."

"I need you to wait here, I would rather not have to cuff you, so please don't try anything."

"Oh! You mean like running away, or perhaps disturbing evidence or better yet..."

"ENOUGH. Sit and wait."

"Should I wag my tail, too?"
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

Matthew 11:28
Chapter 6

Special Agent Jones was standing to the side talking with detective Tom Kincaid, when Special Agent Parker approached.

"What do you think Tom?"

"She needs to be taken in for questioning."

"You believe her guilty?" Asked Special Agent Jones.

"It is a possibility, but not necessarily." Said Tom.

"You are going to take over? It's your jurisdiction." Jerome directed the question to Tom, who shook his head.

"Jerome, I'm surprised you are willing to give me this."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, for as long as I have known you, finding the killer was a challenge you wouldn't pass up. Now you're just giving it to me."

"I just assumed you wanted this."

"As much as I may want this, I am training a rookie and Alexandria is ready to pop any minute. I just can't take on anything else at the moment. I can give it to another detective right now but the reason you called me was because you wanted me, so I'm giving you the choice of taking the case yourself or giving it to Gaston."

"Not Gaston, please not Gaston," exclaimed Josie.

"Lady, you need to stay out of this, and please stop eavesdropping."

"Well, if you baboons are going to speak so near me I'm going to have no choice but to hear what you are saying."

The three men looked at the woman sitting on the sofa. One was ready to burst out laughing, one looked sternly at her, and one was so angry veins were popping out on his forehead.

Kincaid looked at his best friend with amusement and then at the other agent who was standing with them, looking as if he had sucked a lemon. If this is what Jerome had to work with day in and day out, he was not surprised about the misery Jerome was feeling.

"Okay Jerome, my recommendation is that you take her in for questioning and keep her overnight for her own safety. What is your opinion Jones?"

"We would have to take her in to a local jail. Personally, I don't think she belongs there."

"What other recommendation do you have?"

"Well, after questioning is over, you let her go on her own recognizance."

Kincaid just shook his head.

"Talk," said Jerome.

"Okay, about six months ago, I remember reading a case where the woman had been decapitated and left in the trunk of another woman's car. Well, what caught my attention was that a week later, another woman was found dead. Same M.O. and then a week later, one more. There were a total of three women killed. The killer was never found. There were no leads, no fingerprints, no strangers in the area, and everyone interviewed had alibis. If I were you, I would either arrest her or keep her glued to my hip – at least until I read the file from these other three women. They might not be related at all, but you want to make sure before you let her go that she is not next."

"Somehow, I feel that there is something she's not telling us."

"I know there is a lot more, I just can't put my finger on it."

"That's it? You want us to keep her; put her in some sort of protective custody without a reason? You know how expensive that is?"

Jerome had had enough with Jones. He stood so close to him, Jones's eyes widened to the point of popping out of his head. Through gritted teeth, he said, "Don't you think, seeing this room, that there is enough evidence to believe she's in danger? We do not put a price on a human life."

Tom knew Jerome and knew there was nothing to worry about. Jerome was not the kind of person that would begin a fight, unless otherwise provoked. In most cases, when that happened, he had his opponent on the ground within thirty seconds. Tom continued speaking as if nothing had happened between the other two.

"I remember reading the file. I just don't remember the details. Anyhow, if this is a copycat or the killer has decided to start again, then I think she needs to stay with you Jerome. She needs to be under protection and Jones is right; bureaucracy won't let you put her under any protection."

"How do I keep her safe and investigate the case at the same time?

"Simple, she moves in with you. You have the extra room. In the day time she goes to work while you investigate. When she is surrounded by teachers and students, she will be safe. You just have to keep her safe after hours."

"Yippie, do!" Said Josie.

"Lady, I don't like this any more than you do. You said you had a kid?"

"Yes, she's six, and don't even think about it. Wherever I go she goes."

"Well, she'd better be well behaved, I don't like children."
2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.

James 1:2-3
Chapter 7

Maria Esperanza was ready to scream, what had she been thinking when she agreed to babysit today of all days? Her life was complicated enough without adding an extra child to the mix. She did not need the extra worry. She felt that her whole world was collapsing around her and she couldn't do anything about it.

Her own kids and Vicky, who were usually agreeable, were being overly argumentative. She had not seen her boys acting so jumpy and out of control in a long time. On top of that this child, whom she loved with all her heart, was acting bipolar. One minute Vicky was crying, the next she was laughing and playing with the boys, and immediately after, she was whining and complaining. There was no pleasing her.

Maria Esperanza could not help but feel compassion for her and tried to appease her by baking cookies with the kids. Unfortunately, that had lasted until one of the boys bumped Vicky's elbow. She got so upset, she swung about as to hit someone and down went all the eggs onto the floor. Her temper was something Maria Esperanza had not experienced in the past. She tried to turn the television on, but the child was not happy with any of the shows that were age appropriate.

When Vicky had said she was thirsty, Maria Esperanza tried to give her milk, juice or water, but no, she wanted soda, and diet at that. She had gone thirsty of her own choosing. If there was something Maria Esperanza had inherited from her father, it was that stubborn Italian temper he was famous for. Unfortunately for Vicky, Maria Esperanza would never reward bad behavior.

Poor Josie, she had her work cut out for her. Although Josie had complained in the past about grandma overindulging the child, Maria Esperanza had not realized the extent of the damage. No wonder Josie had been so desperate to move. With her mother taking most of her salary for the so called house expenses, it had taken her several months to save the money for their little place, and little it was. Her whole place could fit into Maria's kitchen.

Maria looked at the kids who had finally settled down and took the opportunity to get the mail. As she looked at the envelopes, she saw a few bills she would pass to her brother. There was a card for her mother and a couple of pieces of junk mail she would put in the garbage and then...Why now? It had been so long since she had received anything unwanted. She knew she had to open the envelope, but she really didn't want to. She had been receiving so many blackmail letters and there was nothing she could do about them.

Thanks to her own stupid actions and her immature behavior, she had been responsible for her father's death and now the safety of all those she loved. She saw no way out of it. She had to do what she was told. She had stopped being her own person a long time ago. If her brother was in town, perhaps she could confide in him, but right now she had no one.

The only thing she wanted to do right now was go to her room and cry. She couldn't though, if she let her eye off Vicky for more than a second, the world might just end. She was not going to worry about the mail right now. She had to make sure the kids did not kill each other, or worse – destroy the house as they did it. At least she hadn't lost her sense of humor, Maria Esperanza thought.

Once she calmed down she would find a way out of the mess she was in, but right now she was exhausted. When was Josie going to come and get her child?
You are my refuge and my shield; I have put my hope in your word.

Psalm 119:114
Chapter 8

Agent Parker was securing all the evidence, he wanted to make sure he missed nothing. He got his cell phone and took pictures of every section of the house. He knew the forensics team had taken care of everything, pictures included, but he liked having his own copies of everything. He took pictures especially of every stain and their location from different angles. He wanted to get inside the killer's head. He wanted to walk the same way the killer had gone. He wanted to see everything the killer had seen. He looked around and saw the neatness of the house. Was this how the house normally looked?

"Ms. St. Clair, is this how your mom's house normally looks?" He asked Josie.

She took the time to look around. She saw all the people, coming and going. She saw the numbers on the floor labeling the bloodstains and other evidence they had found, and she saw the coffee stains still on the kitchen wall. No, this was not how her mother's house normally looked. Her mother's house was calm and empty. Her mother had not even allowed her to bring more than two friends at a time over. Her mother didn't like people. Her mother didn't like noise. Plain and simple, her mother didn't like drama or chaos.

"It's always neat. If that's what you are asking."

"It is. Can you tell me anything else about your mom? About the house? About anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw how your breathing changed as you looked around."

"You're seeing things, but if you want to know my thoughts, I am surprised my momma did not wipe the coffee stains from the wall yet. Normally, she would have wiped up the mess before it actually happened."

"Are you saying that your mother is obsessively neat?."

"Not really, she just didn't like messes, if Vicky was playing with her toys, it never bothered my mother, however, if Vicky had left a mess, my mother would have gone mad."

"I don't see any toys around."

"I either took them with me or I put them in my room."

So that answered one of his questions. "Can you tell if there is anything missing here?"

"As far as I can tell, everything is as it should be. Nothing missing, nothing added."

"Thanks"

He continued taking pictures. He wanted to read the file from Mississippi and see if there was anything in common in the two places. He needed to find something to guide him on how to proceed. He looked around and stared at the backyard – nobody was there. Why was there no forensic team there?

"Has anyone checked outside for evidence?" Asked Parker.

"It has been so wet lately that I didn't think we would find anything," said Jones.

Parker did not say a word, but went outside to look for himself. Jones was supposed to be an experienced agent but he was lazy and careless. Moving to this unit was a mistake he would have to rectify as soon as possible. There was definitely more money, but it was certainly not worth it.

He checked the surrounding area, but between the last rain and the many hours that had passed since the murder, there was no evidence to be collected. He crouched down to look. Behind the bushes were indentations on the ground. He got closer to inspect, and realized that the dirt had sunk in where someone had pulled a plant from the ground, roots and all. Someone had most likely pulled a large weed. He marked it just in case he was wrong.

He continued to walk the perimeter of the small yard, and every so often he crouched down looking for something, anything that might lead him to the killer.

After walking the perimeter of the small yard, he ended up on the side entrance. The killer had escaped through this back door. He could see traces of blood under the latch. He marked that as well. He did a slow 360-degree turn to see if he was missing something before he continued through the gate. As he walked through, paying attention to the ground, he was surprised to feel the door hitting him. He felt a sharp sting on his leg and saw his pant leg. Darn! He loved these pants. After further inspection, he realized he was bleeding. Good thing he was up to date on his tetanus shot.

He approached the door to inspect it and saw a large nail protruding. If this nail had snatched someone else, it was possible that the killer's DNA was on that nail. He marked the nail for forensics. He knelt down one more time and looked all around. There was nothing. He needed to find something. He knew that there was no such thing as the perfect crime. He walked the side of the house a few feet from the gate and stopped one more time. He did a slow three sixty turn looking at every angle of the yard. He knelt to look behind the bushes one more time and BINGO! Nobody could commit a crime without leaving any evidence behind.

He needed to get the forensic team here and he needed pictures of the evidence. For good measure he got his cell phone out and took more pictures. He was planning on piecing this case together before he went to bed tonight. There was no way he was going to keep that woman and her daughter in his home any longer than necessary. His home was his sanctuary. He liked his peace and quiet, not the chaos that came attached to children and women.

He stood up slowly and looked all around. The idea of bringing Josie to his house was maddening. What if she was the killer? She looked innocent and small, but could she have killed her own mother? He pictured her and could not see her killing anyone with a knife. Appearances were sometimes deceiving, but his gut feeling told him she was innocent. Regardless of her guilt or innocence, this was going to be one long night.

Were the clothes on the bed a clue? Were those clothes Ivonne's or Josie's? He did not picture Ivonne wearing those short shorts nor the tank top. If those clothes belonged to Josie and she moved out last Thursday, why were her clothes on what he believed to be her mother's bed? Was she planning on changing her clothes after killing her mother? The shower was taken by the body and there was no other bathroom in the house. The whole thing did not fit.

Josie was his only suspect at the moment, but his gut told him that he needed to look elsewhere. The body looked to be Ivonne's, but the clothes on the body were also wrong. Did Ivonne live a secret life? That woman was always in mourning, impossible. Assuming it was not Ivonne, then who was in that bathtub, and could this petite girl have the strength to do this much damage? Cutting a head and hands off took strength that he did not believe she had. Josie would need to have an accomplice, and a strong one at that. Who did she say had her child?

Nothing was making sense to him. He needed to trust his gut, but if he got it wrong he could lose his job; even worse, if he got it wrong he would be letting a cold blooded killer, a serial killer at that, go free. Agent Jerome Parker walked inside and signaled for the forensic team to go outside before he headed toward Detective Tom Kincaid.

"Excuse me. Excuse me!" Called Josie.

"Ma'am please do not shout."

"I was not shouting! How long are you going to keep me here?"

"You were shouting, and you will stay here until I am done!"

"How long are you going to take?"

"Until I feel satisfied."

"I have a question."

There was silence in response.

"Listen, I am speaking to you." She continued.

"I'm listening"

"I told you I have a question."

"I am waiting for you to ask your question."

"You could've said something. Anyhow, if I don't want your protection, can I just go home, right?"

"No."

"No! But if you have not arrested me, I think I can go. What right do you have to keep me against my will?"

"Your wish is my command lady. You have the right to remain silent. You..."

"Stop! Stop! Stop! What is wrong with you? Didn't I tell you I have a child to take care of? And what are you charging me with?"

"You did tell me you have a child, but you also told me that you wanted to be charged. I need some answers and if I have to arrest you to get them, then I will. Understand?"

"But I don't know anything."

"What makes you believe that you don't know anything?

"I have not seen my mother since I moved out and she was fine when I did. She was mean and ornery, nothing unusual for her."

"I want you to describe the fight."

"It was not fight. It was an argument."

"Semantics. I want you to describe the argument."

"There is nothing to describe."

"Then describe the events of last Thursday and let me figure it out."

"Okay, I got up, got ready, got Vicky ready, and after a quick breakfast we got into the car and drove to work."

"You do not have to give me every detail."

"You just told me to."

"Okay continue from when you got home."

"Okay, as soon as I got home I packed my car with as many boxes as possible. I took three trips back and forth before mom got home."

"Then?"

"I started cooking dinner. She was in a good mood for a change, but still complained about me starting dinner so late. My mother was never happy unless she complained about something. I told her what I had done and she immediately blew up. There was some name calling, some shouting, and finally, there was some attempt at making me feel guilty for moving. It did not work so, after we were done eating, I did dishes and then left. It was challenging as my daughter was extremely distraught by then. I got to my new place and put my daughter to sleep. The next day I went to work. I did not use my laptop so I did not think about it until last night, when I had to prepare lesson plans."

"So you haven't seen your mother since Thursday.

"I already told you that; is my mother dead?"

"Presumably! I am sorry that's the best I can give you. As soon as DNA comes back we'll know more, but I would like to believe she is alive."

"You liked her?"

"Yeah, why are you speaking in the past tense? Do you know what happened to your mother? Do we need to wait for DNA results?"

"Listen, I do not know what or who is in that bathroom. All I know is that I saw the blood and it terrifies me; on the other hand, I would like to believe that if my mother is dead I would feel it in my heart. I feel scared and confused and somewhat angry, but I do not feel as if she is dead. As I don't feel she is dead, I choose to believe she is alive, but again, if she were alive, she would be in her office. Have you checked there?"

"Yes, she is not there."

"That is weird since she could not handle the idea of someone else doing her job for her."

"Since I was transferred I have never seen her miss a day."

"She wouldn't miss a day, she is obsessive about her job. She thinks that if she is not there, no one would be able to function."

"She thinks that, ha!"

"If you hear her speak, yeah, she is the most important person there. Didn't you know that?

"Okay stop the sarcasm."

"Sorry, sometimes I can't help it. Anyhow, when are we going to know who the blood belongs to? Who did you tell me you were with?'

"I didn't. Is your speech always this scrambled?"

"Only when I'm thinking about a thousand things at once. Are you with the local police?"

"No. Now tell me, what thousand things are you thinking about?"

"So, if you are not with the local police who are you with? Shouldn't you have revealed that already?"

"I am surprised you don't know. I just told you that since I transferred, your mom has never missed a day."

"You work with her?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry, I m not very observant."

"Now tell me, if you moved Thursday. What were you doing here today."

"I forgot a few things. I already told you my laptop to begin with, the rest of my clothes and some of my daughter's toys. Everything should be in my room."

"Your room?"

"My old room."

"We have searched the whole house and there is no laptop. Did you come earlier today?"

"No, I was at work. I teach at the local elementary school. If that is when the crime took place, I have an alibi."

"An alibi?"

"Yes, you know...During the time of the crime I was surrounded by twenty little kids."

"How do you know when the time of the crime was? So far you haven't seen your mother since Thursday and I haven't seen her since Friday."

"She could have been there all weekend?"

"We won't know until forensics gives us the time of death."

Jerome noticed that the very relaxed and cool Josie became white at the idea of her mother being dead all through the weekend. Did she realize she didn't have an alibi or was it something else?

"Is there something you want to share with me?"

"No. I told you what I know."

Then Jerome noticed that she was beginning talking to herself. It was a moving of her lips and a very soft whisper. Unfortunately, he could not make out any of the words she was muttering to herself. He wished he could get closer, but he knew she would stop the second he moved. As soon as she was done, her color was back to normal and she looked relaxed.

"You seem very relaxed. You do not seem too worried about your mother's whereabouts."

"I don't do melodrama. Nothing gets accomplished by crying hysterically. By the time you tell me she is dead or she is alive I would have come to terms with it, but for now I intend to be optimistic and keep my cool."

"Where is your daughter?"

"My friend has her."

"Why didn't you bring her with you?"

"Maybe you should read me the Miranda rights and maybe I should call a lawyer."

"Okay, can your daughter stay with your friend overnight or should we call the Department of Children and Families?"

"Darn! you are heartless. No wonder my mother hated her job. Do you have children? Please let me go home today. I promise I'll cooperate."

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?"

Josie was trying so hard to keep calm, but as he read her her rights, the tears just started to flow down her face. She hated crying, but right now when she felt all the frustration pent up inside, she couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Oh please, just let me go so I can take care of my baby!"

"Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? Yes or no."

"Dammit! Yes."

"With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me? Yes or no."

"Yes."
But God will never forget the needy; the hope of the afflicted will never perish.

Psalm 9:18
Chapter 9

"Excuse me detective. You are doing it again."

"Number one: It's Special Agent Parker. Number two: What am I doing?"

"When you stare at me it's as if you are staring all the way to my soul and then I feel compelled to talk."

"Are you scared you might confess or are you scared I will see something you are hiding somewhere in there." and he pointed at her head as he spoke, making her wince as she took one step back. "What are you hiding? I wonder..."

"If I were hiding something, it would be so deeply buried you wouldn't find it unless you were one of those so called mind-readers, and you would have to be very good at that. My secrets are mine and no one else's. Understand?"

"So you admit to having secrets."

"Everyone does, but I promise they have nothing to do with my mother's death."

"Are you sure? Anyhow, I am not a mind reader and I will assume neither are you, so let me fill you in on what we are doing. First, we are going to pick your daughter up, then we are going to pick up some things from your place, and finally, as we spoke earlier, you are going to spend a night or two at my place."

"Is that a new pick up line, because bringing a child into a liaison is new to me."

"Woman you infuriate me! All I am trying to do is keep you and your daughter safe and out of jail. Your sarcasm is getting old."

"Sarcasm is how I speak."

"Then understand that jail is still a viable option. I understand the beds are a little lumpy, but your daughter will be perfectly okay in a foster home."

"Your place sounds wonderful. Am I going to have my own bed or do we share?" She continued, but then she saw his posture change, and she knew she had crossed the line. She had to apologize quickly before he actually decided to arrest her. "I am sorry."

"Let's go."

"Before we go, I need to get my laptop. I have work to do."

"Your laptop is not here. We have searched this whole place and there is no laptop or any other form of data device; by the way, do you have a cell phone?"

"I am not giving it to you."

"I need it now."

"Why?

"Ma'am do you understand that I am not going to ask your permission for everything I have to do to investigate this case?"

"If it involves me or my daughter, the heck you won't."

"So far I've treated you with respect and not like the suspect you are out of courtesy to your mother. This is the last time I ask you to please not shout or I'll have to treat you like the criminal I believe you to be."

"And I've told you that I'm not shouting!"

"Hmm! Excuse me!" Both Josie and the agent turned to look at detective Kincaid, who had dared interrupt their argument. The detective looked annoyed, but amused at the same time.

"Actually...Jerome, ma'am...both of you were shouting."

"We were not!"

"That's neither here nor there. As amusing as this might be, I think that you guys should continue this discussion privately. There are so many eyes and ears around right now, I wouldn't be surprised to find you two as the main protagonists of a Youtube video. You have called enough attention to yourselves."

Josie and Jerome, embarrassed to be chastised, looked around the room and saw every eye in the place fixed on them.

Jerome, annoyed with himself for allowing this petite woman to rile him up, just looked at the officers, grabbed Josie by the hand, and pulled her behind him as he led her to his car that was parked two houses down the block.

"Where are you taking me? What about my car?"

"Your car will be okay."

"1 need my purse and I need my school books. I think I left my purse in the house."

"I don't remember seeing it." He opened the door of his car and he let her in.

"My keys have to be there. I don't remember what I did with them."

"Well, actually. I have your keys. You left your car running."

"I did?"

"Uh Huh."

"And you turned it off."

"I did and I also put it in park for you."

"That is too far fetched. If I had left the car in drive it would have crashed against the house. You are lying now."

"First, I do not lie, second, the car is uphill on the yard. It won't go anywhere without someone pushing on the gas. Now I need to know where we are going. You do want to get your daughter, right?"

"Yes, but could you please get my purse and my school bag? I have to write lesson plans."

"Wait here."

"I don't have anywhere to go."

The minute agent Parker walked to the yard where she had left her car, opened her car door and pushed his large body into the driver's seat of the VW, Josie jumped out of the passenger seat of the truck and ran down the block. She grew up in this neighborhood and knew every area in which she could hide. She had spent her childhood improving on her hiding skills for all the times she played hide-and-seek with the older kids in the neighborhood. She had mastered her skill to the point that on one occasion she was not found at all. She had waited so long in her hiding spot that she fell asleep and when she woke up, the sun had already set. Her mother had been furious with her when she finally came home.

A curse could be heard out of Agent Parker's mouth when he heard the door slam shut. He knew what it was and tried to get out of her car, but dislodging his large body from the small car took a few seconds too long. He ran to the edge of the driveway toward his car but it was already too late. She was nowhere to be seen. For such a short girl she could sure run fast.

Detective Kincaid stood behind him laughing hysterically.

"What has gotten into you Tom?"

"You've finally met your match. She'll keep you second guessing yourself."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Excuse me I have to go catch me a criminal."

Great, now he was going to be the butt of all jokes. This woman was driving him crazy, but he wasn't worried. He had her purse and her school bag. Not only that, but he knew where she worked. She was going to have to come to him to get her things. From what he was able to tell, she was impulsive, and impatient, and he needed to use that to his advantage. She did not think of consequences and that told him that she did not commit the crime. If she had done so, she would have made several mistakes. What about the blood trail? He second-guessed himself.

Okay, so he just disproved his own theory, but that did not mean that she would not come for her things. He figured thirty minutes at the most before she would try to sneak into her car. As long as he had her keys and things, she was not going to go anywhere. As an added precaution, he opened the hood and removed the distributor cap. He calmly went inside the house to keep looking for more evidence. He was looking for something that would help him think outside the box.

So far, they were looking at this case as if the blood belonged to Ivonne. He knew that the blood belonged to someone else, and Josie did not believe it was her mother either. If it wasn't Ivonne, where was she? And who was in that bathtub?
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.

Hebrews 11:1

Chapter 10

Maria Esperanza was going crazy. She did not think she would survive one more second with this demon-possessed child. Poor Josie, how was she going to control this beast?

So far, this child had managed to throw all the eggs on the floor, then she had taken all the toys out of the shelves and scattered them all over the playroom. She had fought with all three of her kids, even the youngest who was only two. When Maria Esperanza had taken her phone out and threatened to call mom, the child had calmed down enough to fool Maria into letting her guard down. So what did this child do? She took the phone and drowned it in the toilet. If that had not been enough, she had taken the time to poop on it. Finally, while in the bathroom, she had taken the shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and lotion, and poured them onto the floor, then had continued to finger paint on every surface available.

When Maria Esperanza had gone in to check on her, she had not seen the gooey mess and stepped on it. She had slipped and fallen. She had tried to gain her balance by grabbing on to the towel rack, but had succeeded only in pulling it out of the wall. She bumped her head on the side of the sink and she just knew that she had a mild concussion, but could not go to the hospital because she had four kids to take care of, and one was the reason for all the chaos. When was Josie going to come and get her child? There was only so much she could handle.

**********************

Josie had run about two blocks and then found a house with holly bushes. She thought that it would make the perfect hiding place. She was small enough to fit under the bushes and no one would think that she was dumb enough to hide there. She soon understood why. She was not as small as she thought. Every time she took a deep breath, she got scratched and it was becoming quite painful. Her blouse had already been torn and she would never be able to wear the pants again. Not only were they permanently mud and grass stained, but the bushes had dug several holes into them as well.

She had no idea what to do. She knew that she had to get her daughter, but had no idea how. She had tried calling Maria Esperanza, but there was no answer. She was the only person she knew who would come and rescue her without asking too many questions.

The problem was that she was not answering the phone, which caused Josie to worry more. Was her daughter okay? She had to be. There was no way they could be having a worse day than she was. As she did earlier, she began to pray. You are my daughter's protector. You are my daughter's shield. And You know what I can handle.

Her prayer always gave her peace. Knowing that there was someone who loved her no matter what, always calmed her down in the times the world was caving in all around her. God had this. God had her, God had her daughter, and God had her mother. Now that she was calm enough, she needed to figure out what to do. She would not worry about her daughter, as Maria Esperanza was great with kids.

The problem was that at this moment Josie did not have anyone else she could call and if her friend was not available then she had no choice but to get her car. How was she going to do that without getting caught? That idiot cop was really messing everything up for her. She knew she could steal her own car. Would it really be stealing it if it was hers? While in high school one of her boyfriends had taught her how to hot wire a car. She just needed to be invisible. She had done it before and she could do it again. She had to risk it. She would act as if she belonged there, and no one would notice her. She looked at herself. How was she going to accomplish that looking as she did. This was such a crazy idea.

Josie closed her eyes to say a little prayer, but at the moment, even after praying, she felt as if God had deserted her. If he had turned his back on her what good would it do to pray? She had to remind herself that God never abandoned her. Bad things did happen, but He used everything. All of her life had been one wrong move after another, but God had blessed her with a beautiful daughter. She had to recognize, that even though her mother was bossy and domineering, she was a caring mother. That was also a blessing.

She still did not understand how talking to a neighbor had gotten so out of hand, but it had. She might understand it later.

Oh mother, I don't know where you are, but I know you are not dead. I would feel it all the way to my core if you were; besides, I don't know how I would survive with the guilt.

It was already five o'clock and she had not accomplished anything she so needed to do. Enough time had passed and she needed to act. She dug herself out of her hiding place. She was cold, wet, and bloody. She wanted to get out of there. She wanted to get her sweet daughter and go home. She wanted to take a hot bath and go to sleep until tomorrow. She wanted to forget this horrible nightmare.

As she walked back to her mother's place to get her car she prayed that nobody noticed her. She was trying to blend into the bushes and be invisible.

****************

Agent Parker was wrong. He had driven the neighborhood several times and he had not found her. Then he waited, but the thirty minutes had come and gone and the woman had not appeared. Now he had failed, and if something happened to her it would be his fault. He had to find her.

He stormed out of the house one more time and drove around the neighborhood slowly, looking for anything that might look like a hiding place. It had been over an hour; she could be anywhere and his frustration increased.

He drove on every street possible in the neighborhood. He was getting ready to move to the next neighborhood when he got an idea. He had her purse and he had her school bag. He had not searched it. What was wrong with him? He was not one of the agents with the most stats just by accident. He was methodical to the point that people accused him of being obsessive compulsive, and perhaps he was overly neat and wanted things done in a particular way, but he lived a normal life. This had never prevented him from doing what was necessary to complete the job. He was just efficient and neat, but this case was making him act like a disorganized rookie.

If his boss had heard him today, he would have removed him from the case. He had asked the same questions several times looking for different answers. He wanted her to trip and give herself up if she was guilty, but every time she gave the same answer. He was sure of her innocence, but if she was innocent why did she run?

He parked his car on a side street and grabbed her purse. He began pulling things out one at a time: ear buds, lipstick, hairbrush, eyeliner, tampons, wallet and nothing else. No cell phone, no notepad, no phonebook, no anything that will let him know where she could have gone from here. He opened the wallet and it had only two things, her driver's license and a credit card. That was it. His sisters would have had so much junk in there, he would have had no trouble following their trail.

He leaned his head against the back of the seat and began to think. If he were a criminal where would he hide? And if he were not a criminal, where would he hide? As he was coming up with nothing, he opened his eyes and there she was...walking slowly. She looked as if someone had beat her up or worse; she looked as if a group of cats had used her as a scratching post. What in the world? She had cuts everywhere. He was going to kill someone.

Agent Parker jumped out of the car and as carefully as he could, he helped her into the truck. She had tears in her eyes and it broke his heart. There was something about this woman that he could not explain, but it touched his heart. He wanted to protect her. He was acting stupid. She was a suspect and he needed to remember that.

**********************

"What happened to you? Who did this to you?"

She looked at Agent Parker, as he spoke, but for a second she could not process his words. His concern was something she could not handle and her strong facade broke all of a sudden. She could not speak as her eyes filled with tears that gently began rolling down her face. "I tried so hard but I failed. Nothing I do turns out okay, no matter how hard I try." Then her silent cry became loud and uncontrollable sobs. She wanted it to stop but did not have the strength. "I don't want to hurt."

"Sweetheart, trust me to take care of you."

"I've heard it all before. Never mind, I don't know what I am talking about. Are you taking me to jail?"

She was just so tired. It would be so much easier to just give up. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried to do things right, she always did them wrong. It seemed to her that she was caught in a whirlpool; every time she thought she could break free she was pulled under one more time. She just wanted to give up. Then she remembered Vicky and she remembered that no matter how hard life had been for her in the past, God had never left her.

During those difficult moments when she had woken up in a puddle of blood with bruises on her inner thighs after her date with a guy she thought her mother would approve of had been one of the most difficult times of her life. This awful time had only been topped by the moment when she realized that she was pregnant. She had never been so scared in her life, only to be hit one more time in the gut when she realized she had no one. Even through it all God had still been there. She had lost count of how many times she prayed before coming to her mother. Every night she had bargained with God for a solution to her problem. The only solution she found was to come true and confess almost everything to her mother. Her mother never learned of Vicky's conception, but it did not matter. Vicky was and is the biggest blessing of all. She had wanted to get along with her mother, and thanks to Vicky, their relationship changed. They became friends afterwards. "Oh! God, help me."

Jerome was silently praying. He did not know how to handle this young woman next to him, but her cry for help tore at his heart and he felt responsible for her. That was ridiculous of course as he had not met her until today, and once they caught the killer, he would be done with her.

Josie took a deep breath. Was this cop taking her to jail? She couldn't go there. She was the only person her daughter had and she had not done anything wrong. Ever since she became pregnant, she had tried to make better choices. She had changed her ways at school. Not only had she graduated from high school, but she had graduated from college.

She knew what needed to be done. She was a survivalist. She opened her eyes, ready to defend herself and argue her point, but then he was right there. All she could read in those deep brown eyes was concern. Knowing nothing about people, she feared that his concern was just an illusion. For all she knew the concern she saw could just be the normal way he looked when he was going to arrest someone. She wanted to ask him, but knew she could not speak. She took another deep breath, and then another attempt to calm herself. "Are you going to arrest me now? Please say something."

He had no answer for her as he should arrest her immediately. Only guilty people run. Then all of the sudden the crying he had assumed had ceased, started again. He hated tears.

"Ma'am you are acting hysterical; do you need some water?"

"You are a moron buffoon."

"Excuse me?"

"You do not ask someone of the female gender if she is going hysterical or if she needs water."

"Really? What am I supposed to do if I see you acting hysterical? I could just have you committed you know. You are an unpredictable basket case."

"No, don't do that please. I need to get my daughter; she has no one but me or my mother."

"Here, have some water. Sorry, this is the only bottle I have, but I promise I am healthy."

"Eww, you really want me to drink from that?"

"Sorry, it's the only thing I have."

She took the bottle and drank it all. "If I get a disease or something, I know it came from you. Now would you please take me to get my daughter."

"You promise not to run again?"

"I promise."

"Okay, but we need to change plans. I will take you home first so you can get cleaned up. You do not want your daughter to see you looking like this, you'll scare her." 
Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.

Psalm 31:24
Chapter 11

"Can I come home now?" Asked Ivonne.

"No, not yet."

"What's going on, Kenneth?"

"I should ask you that. My man went to fix the place as we discussed and he found someone else there. What game are you playing?"

"I am not playing any games."

"Well, there was someone there, and according to my man, he looked mean."

"I don't know what you are talking about. I swear it. Never the less, I want to come home."

"No, I told you. I'm fixing this and I need you to stay away."

"I came here because the loneliness was awful, but it's worse here. I need to come home."

"I have already shown you that I know what I am doing, besides I'm trying to surprise you."

"Ken, I know that you mean well, but the loneliness is killing me."

"Do you want your daughter home?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"Well, you need to decide."

"My daughter needs me. I just need to learn to give her space."

"My sweet Ive, your daughter is twenty-three, but she is impulsive and irresponsible."

"She is impulsive, but not irresponsible."

"You overindulge her."

"I do not. Oh Ken, I don't know what to do."

"That's my girl. Leave it all to me and I will take care of everything."

"Thank you, but I think I have to take care of this one."

"Sweetheart, let me help. I will always take care of you."

"Ken, you do understand that we are just friends, right? There could never be anything else between us."

"Why not?"

"You were my husband's best friend. You are like a brother."

"That's not what you told me."

"I don't know what you understood, but listen and listen carefully. I would never ruin a friendship by having a relationship I know won't work."

"What do you want from me?"

"Just be a friend."

"I can do that."

"Thanks."

"Ivonne, what is it that you want most in this world?"

Ivonne thought of the wonderful two years she had with Chase, then she remembered the first time she held her daughter and granddaughter. She remembered the laughter; she remembered the tears. She wanted her family back. That was what she wanted most. She could not have Chase, but she could have her daughter and granddaughter.

"For us to be a family again."

"'Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord.

Leviticus 19:39

Chapter 12

Maria Esperanza was exhausted. She had a horrible migraine and needed to sleep, but knew she couldn't. After Josie and the cop had taken Vicky, she had closed the door behind them and then, in relief, leaned against the door and slowly slid down giving thanks to God that the devil child was gone. Sweet and behaved Vicky had acted possessed.

Vicky had always been a well-behaved child when she was with Josie, today though, she had been rude, petulant, and extremely argumentative. This change in their household was definitely affecting her. Poor baby.

Then Maria Esperanza remembered the miserable day she had and her compassion for Vicky diminished. This had been one of the worst days of her life...Okay that was probably an exaggeration. When she had spent four years with her husband, that had to be the worst ever time of her life.

After they had gone, Maria Esperanza went to every door and every window making sure everything was locked. She put her kids to bed and then began cleaning the mess. She started with the kitchen, wiping the eggs from the floor and putting everything in the sink. All she needed to do now were the dishes and the floor. From there she would clean the playroom and finally the most difficult mess: The bathroom. Cleaning spilled soap was the most difficult task ever. It was almost impossible to rinse all the stickiness out.

She was willing to work all night as long as she did not have to read whatever was in that envelope. She was so tired of getting blackmail letters, and in truth it was a blessing that Vicky had thrown her phone in the toilet – doing so prevented her from getting those awful messages. Her life was a mess and she had caused all of it.

She needed to figure out a way to fix this, but did not know how. She had thought about confiding in her brother, but that would have to wait until he came back from his honeymoon. He did not want to put a damper on other people's happiness. She had messed up her life, and consequently, her kids' as well. As she saw it, there was no need to involve anybody else because of her foolishness.
Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.

Deuteronomy 6:5
Chapter 13

Agent Parker took Josie on a tour of the apartment. He was terrified of what would happen to his place after he had heard Josie's friend describe her time while babysitting. He had no children of his own and was fortunate that his nieces and nephews lived in other states. He did not have the time to worry about what was normal behavior in children, but if this was normal behavior, he would thank his lucky stars for not having kids. He took a deep breath to calm down and continued the tour.

"The kitchen is toward your right, and past that is the laundry room," said Jerome.

Josie looked at the apartment. The influence of masculinity was obvious in the decor of the place. The walls were a light tan, the sofa and recliner were dark brown. Every piece of furniture was chosen for its practicality, not its beauty. Not one piece of furniture was ugly, but she would never have chosen such bulky pieces either. The sofa and recliner faced the television and gaming system, instead of facing each other to allow for conversation.

The pictures on the wall were from Salvador Dali, if she remembered her art class correctly, and the television took up at least a quarter of the wall. There was an empty candy dish on the corner of the table in which he placed his keys and a Bible next to it. He was a Christian; he could not be too bad.

"Mommy, a bat mobile. Can I play with this?"

Jerome turned around and saw this crazy child holding one of his model cars. This Bat Mobile Dark Knight Hot Wheels 1/18 die cast car was one of his favorites. Not only had it been expensive, but he had spent hours building it. Gluing all the pieces together had taken time and precision. He reacted without thinking and snatched the car away.

Even though he was careful not to hurt the car, he also didn't want to hurt the kid. He was not as concerned for the child's feelings though, and it surprised him when the child's eyes filled with tears.

"I told you not to touch anything." He said.

"You are supposed to share. Mommy tell him."

Josie, did not understand the fuss. This was a toy for Pete's sake. What kind of man was this?

"What is wrong with you?" Asked Josie.

"What is wrong with me you ask? What is wrong with you that you haven't taught this child simple manners?"

"I have taught her manners. She is normally well behaved."

"Really! So first you tell me that your child taking your friend's phone and dumping it in the toilet was not normal behavior for her, and now you tell me that she taking one of my models, which by the way, was in a protective casing, inside my office, is not normal behavior either? So lady, please tell me, what is normal behavior for her? Is it when she sets the house on fire?"

"She is just curious. Intelligent children are curious."

"Curiosity is not an excuse for rudeness."

"She is not rude. She's a kid."

"Lady, you are blind if you think she is well behaved."

"She is learning."

"How is she learning if you do not teach?"

"How dare you tell me how to be a parent when you have no kids. You don't have kids, right?"

"Lady, I have not a clue how to be a good parent, but I know when I see neglectful parenting."

"How dare you! I've not abandoned my child. I love her and I take good care of her. Let's not forget, you still haven't answered my question."

"You can love your child all you want, but if you do not set parameters, she is destined for unhappiness, or worse, jail time."

"JAIL TIME! Have you lost your mind? Since when did taking a toy to play with when you are six lead to jail? And you DO have kids. You probably have abandoned them."

"Where do you get this stuff? No, I do not have kids, but in my book that's called stealing, and she won't learn about consequences if you do not teach her."

"What right do you have to tell me how to be a parent?"

"None. I have just arrested too many kids whose parents wanted to be friends instead of parents. Now let me show you your room."

"Whatever."

"This is where you and your daughter are going to sleep."

"Where are you going to be?"

"Out on the sofa. If you need me, holler."

"I won't need you."

"Suit yourself."

"This apartment only has one room?"

"No, it actually has two, but the other one is my office and that is where my so called toys are. I'll lock the door to make sure no one goes in there."

"Thank you!"

"Don't thank me so fast. You need to be aware that this apartment is not child proof, and my office is off limits to you and especially to your daughter. I won't tolerate messes."

"She won't go in there anymore. I know you don't believe me, but she is normally a very good kid."

"Whatever you say, lady."

"Don't you dare 'whatever' me. And in case you don't remember, my name is Josie, not lady. Also, I know my child is not perfect, but normally she listens to me. Today was an anomaly. This weekend has been very hard for her."

"I am not going to argue with you."

"You'll see, everything will be okay. I promise. She will behave."

"Good night lady. Oh! One more thing...This apartment only has one bathroom with a double door. You must remember to lock it before you use it and unlock it when you are done. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Also, if you forget to unlock the door, I am going to have to come in through the bedroom. I will give you as much privacy as possible, but I'll do what I've got to do."

"Okay, I'll remember. I wouldn't want you to find me naked or something."

"Not a big deal. You don't impress me much, so suit yourself."

Josie wanted to lighten the mood by being funny, but somehow it backfired on her and now she was upset. She knew she wasn't a beauty or anything, but he did not need to be insulting. She would show him, there was no harm in flirting anyhow. The fact that he was tall, dark, and handsome was just adding a little more spice to the game. She just hoped it did not backfire on her. She was very much aware of her shortcomings.

Jerome sat on the sofa reading his Bible, trying to concentrate on the message. Concentration was hard though because his mind was attempting to put all the puzzle pieces of this case together. He needed to relax before he attempted to solve the case if he was to keep his sanity. Not only were the puzzle pieces nonexistent, but this woman and her child were infuriating, worse...they were a distraction. Reading the word of God always helped him relax and see things through different angles.

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. James 1:5

Okay God, I am asking. I need your wisdom to solve this case. I'm..."darn! Where did you come from?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

He must be overly tired that he never heard her approach until she was sitting next to him. Damn! She needed to cover herself. Was she wearing anything underneath that oversized t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination? He closed his eyes and leaned his head on the back of the sofa to avoid looking at her. Darn! What was she thinking, walking half naked like this?

"You are a Christian?" She asked looking at the book in his hands.

"Yes"

"Are you the kind that goes to church, and then points your finger at everyone's sin? Or are you the kind that loves people regardless of their sin?"

"I like to think that I am the latter. Are you a Christian? Do you go to church?"

"I go sometimes. When I have time."

"Maybe God will be with you when He has time."

"Thank you for showing which kind of Christian you are. Anyhow, I just came to say I'm sorry my daughter took your toy to play with."

"Lady, it is not a toy, it's a model." Don't look at her he told himself. Don't look at her, he repeated over and over. Concentrate on anything else, but his eyes continued to drift. I should have read something about temptation instead of wisdom. He thought, before realizing that she was still talking.

"It looked like a toy to me." She said

"Well, it's not. It is a Bat Mobile Dark Knight Hot Wheels model."

"Whatever that means, it still looked like a toy."

"It is a small replica of the Bat mobile that was used in the Batman Dark Knight movie."

He looked at her confused face.

"You do know who Batman is?"

"Everyone knows who Batman is, duh."

"Have you seen Dark knight?"

"No."

"You haven't seen the movie?"

"No."

"Okay, come here. Let me show you this so called toy." Jerome grabbed Josie by the hand pulling her to her feet with him.

"Wait! Where are you taking me?"

"To my office."

"You want me to go into your so called office?"

"Yes, come here and stop the sarcasm. Let me show you something."

He did not let go of her hand until they were in the room and they were in front of the bookshelves that contained nothing but models. His hands went easily to the one being discussed. He took it out of the Plexiglas container and placed it on one of his hands while the other showed all the amazing qualities of the car.

"You see this? Look, the hood opens, so does the trunk and look at the doors. This is a perfect copy of the original."

She had no idea why he was so excited about a toy, but she was able to see the kid in the very grumpy man. He had a smile and his eyes were bright with excitement. His hands were gentle as he opened and closed every part of the car. Too bad he was here to arrest her.

"Hot Wheels does the best recreation of the real cars. Look at all the details." He continued.

"Impressive." She said.

He saw her lack of interest, and felt embarrassed and childish. He put the car back in its casing, and then back on the bookshelf before he spoke again.

"I understand, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bore you."

"I don't know what you understand. What I meant when I said it was impressive was just that. I am just not as excited as you when looking at toys children are not allowed to play with. Besides, right now, I am worried about my mother."

"You don't think your mother is dead, do you?"

"No."

"Neither do I to tell the truth. The hand that I found had long painted fingernails. I have never seen your mother wearing nail polish."

"She has never worn any, as far as I know."

Jerome leaned on the desk and pulled his cell phone out, "Come here look at these pictures."

She leaned into him to look at the pictures as he was flipping to the correct one. Jerome gave her a quick glance, but did not stop until he found the picture he wanted. "That is definitely not my mother's hand. Since my father died, she stopped wearing any kind of make up or jewelry. She has been in mourning ever since. Look at those fingers. This lady was wearing rings even on her thumb."

"When did he die?"

"Who died?"

"Your father."

"Oh! Before I was born."

"Isn't that a bit excessive?"

"What? Her mourning?"

"Yeah! Kind of sad, if you ask me."

"I don't know. They were in love."

"How old are you. You have to be in your twenties."

"I'm twenty-three."

"She has been mourning for twenty-three years?"

"Yes, but they loved each other. My father was a cop and they used to have conversations about death and in one of those conversations my father said that if he died, he did not want her to remarry."

"That was kind of selfish."

"I don't think it was like that. They were young, so death was a far away idea. Unfortunately, she couldn't see past his words."

"I see." He said.

"You know, she is still a pretty attractive woman."

"I can see that."

"What do you think happened to my mother?"

"I don't know, but I intend to find out. Now, go to bed."

"Can I help you?"

"Only, if you remember anything you haven't told me."

"Not really. My mom was a recluse. It has always been the two of us, and then when I had Vicky, the three of us."

"It must've hurt her when you moved out."

"My mom and I have not been on speaking terms for the last few months. She had to have control and when I fought for my independence, she told me that I was disrespectful and rude. She refused to speak to me until I apologized."

"What were you disrespectful about?"

"Nothing important, really. There was a new neighbor I was talking to and she went ballistic."

"Talking as in dating, or talking as in having a conversation."

"I did not even get to see him. It was over the privacy fence. You know, the house that is directly behind mine. Sorry, my mom's house."

"The house has been vacant for almost a year. We had to interrogate all the neighbors. How long ago was this?"

"I don't know. About two, maybe three months ago."

"Can you describe the person you spoke with?"

"I didn't even see him."

"Do you remember anything? Did he have an accent of any kind?"

"I don't know. Maybe a New York accent."

"Now we are getting somewhere. We have an agent from New York. Their accent is obvious. Anything else you remember?"

"Nothing right now."

"Thank you. You've been great help. Now go to sleep. I have to take you to work before I go into the office, and I need to be there early."

So be very careful to love the Lord your God.

Joshua 23:11
Chapter 14

The next day, Josie, Vicky, and Jerome went through their morning routine as if they had been doing this all their lives. While the bathroom was occupied with one of the girls, Jerome made the coffee and fried some eggs. He had not thought to buy any kid friendly cereal, so he didn't offer any. He put on the table what he did have, just in case. Vicky was the first one to join him and sat at the table not saying a word. Was this child usually quiet?

When she did not speak with him, he said, "Good morning."

"Good morning. Is this for me?"

"Yes. Would you like some toast and milk?"

"I love toast and I love eggs. I hate milk!"

"Well, your other choices are water or coffee."

"Water."

Josie came a few minutes later and was handed a plate and a cup of coffee. He tried not to stare, but in all his years in school, he had never had a teacher dress like Josie did; life at school would have been a whole lot more interesting if he had. Even though she was wearing tights under her mini skirt, she appeared to be dressed more for a club than the classroom.

"What grade do you teach?" He asked.

"Kindergarten. Why?"

"I cannot picture you as a teacher dressed as you are."

"What is wrong with what I am wearing?"

"Nothing, really. It's just that those shoes look completely uncomfortable."

"I love platform shoes."

"I don't doubt your love for the shoes, but if you have to work on your feet... they look uncomfortable."

"Yeah, I have flip flops under my desk. Now tell me do you have comfortable shoes under your desk?"

"Actually, not all dress shoes are made for looks alone. These happen to be very comfortable."

"Nice to know."

Jerome was amused by their conversation. Women were funny creatures. They spent hours getting all made up, choosing the right outfit and the perfect accessories to go out the door, only to take it all off as soon as they got to their destination. He was not going to try to explain it to them, but they were beautiful just the way they were.

************

Jerome was surprised that the rest of the week went as smoothly as the first day did, except for a few minor changes, they had gotten into a routine. Since he was the first one to get up, nobody fought him for the bathroom. Vicky was usually at the table before her mother ever made it out of her room. She was always cheerful and talkative, nothing like the first day. Her mouth never stopped moving and sound never stopped flowing out of it. He missed his quiet mornings as that was his thinking and praying time.

He tried to ignore Vicky, but she was not going to have any of that. She would ask the same question over and over again, not until he gave an answer, but until he gave an answer that she approved. He had settled for saying, "it's okay with me go ask your mother."

At night time, Josie cooked dinner and he helped with clean up, but when she put Vicky in bed she stayed there and went to sleep. He was left alone to work, to think and to realize how much he so wanted a family.

"How was your day?" Asked Jerome.

"It was as pleasant as it could be with my mother missing. How many days has it been already? Three?"

"Sorry. No matter what new leads I have found, they all seem to lead nowhere until today."

"Today?"

"Yes, but we'll talk later." Jerome looked through the rear view mirror at Vicky, letting Josie know with his eyes that it wasn't the right moment to discuss anything. "Do you like your job?" He continued.

"I love teaching. I love little kids. How about you?"

"I don't like kids and there is no way you will see me in a classroom."

"You know very well that I didn't mean that. Do you like your job?"

"It's fine." Then he directed his next statement to the young person in the back seat. "How was your day, child?"

"Her name is Vicky. And don't think for a minute that I didn't notice how you tried to change the subject. Vicky, Mr. Jerome asked you a question."

"Do we have to go home with him again mommy?"

"Yes, and please don't be rude and answer the question."

"Mommy he's always grumpy. Can I call him Mr. Grumpy?

"Mr. Grumpy? I am not GRUMPY!"

"Yes you are!" Came from both females in the car as they laughed.

"Mr. Detective you need to relax. You are going to die from a stroke." Said Josie.

"First of all, it's Special Agent, and Vicky, you are going to have to put up with this grumpy man at least one more night."

"Okay... can I watch TV?"

"Ask your mother. It's okay with me."

"Can I? Can I? I've been good today."

"Once I check your homework. Now I need you to stay quiet for a little bit."

"I was quiet all day at school. I need to talk."

"Just give me a couple of minutes for my brain to rest."

When the car went silent, Jerome looked at Vicky through the rear view mirror once again and saw her quietly playing with the dolls she kept in her backpack. He then looked at Josie who was wringing her hands as she waited for him to speak. Her eyes looked hunted, and there were a few extra worry lines between her eyebrows and on her forehead. He felt guilty for making her wait and took the opportunity to update her on the new events.

"We found your mother."

Josie straightened and looked at him as if he had grown an extra head. Her eyes were wide open and her shoulder pulled back; both her hands squeezed his right arm. He was sure she did not realize she was touching him.

"And... Is she okay? Please tell me she's alive?"

"She is fine. She went to a resort, and if my boss had looked on his desk, he would have found the letter she wrote with the leave slip attached to it."

"Thank God she's okay. Why did she go? When is she coming home?"

"In the letter she just mentioned family problems and that she needed some time to think. She should be back in a couple of days. Do you know a Kenneth Smith?"

"Yes, he's a friend. Why?"

"What can you tell me about him?"

"I don't know. He's like a father to me. He was my dad's best friend. What about him?"

"He's going to have your mom's place cleaned tomorrow."

"Do you not know THE Kenneth Smith? You know... Very prolific lawyer."

"Oh! I know him." Said Jerome.

"And?"

Crooked, thief, manipulator of the law..."My opinion is not important." He said.

"So you know who he is."

"Yeah, I just wanted to understand his interest in you guys."

"My father was very popular from what I understand. After he died, the friends started dwindling, and little by little it was just Uncle Ken and us."

"I see."

"What about the woman? Who was she? Did you find her killer already?"

"She's a junky. She probably crossed her supplier. I am going to spend one more day on the case to see what I find out."

"If I were that woman's family, I would like closure. Please don't give up so soon."

"We haven't found a next of kin yet. We know her name, thanks to her fingerprints and because she has been arrested several times, but that's all we know."

"Please don't give up and don't do sloppy work. Her family needs closure."

"You are very passionate about this, aren't you?"

"Yes, my dad's killer went free, a drunk driver, and my mother never found closure."

"I'll do my best."

"You don't think it is the same person as the other case, do you?"

"Are you referring to the case in Mississippi?"

"Yes."

"I haven't discarded the possibility yet. That's the reason you are not home yet."

"Believe it or not I feel relief knowing that Vicky and I can stay at your place one more night. I am a bit frightened by the whole thing and tomorrow is Friday. It will give me the weekend to settle into my new place without stressing about a killer out there."

"Nothing to be frightened about."

"Well, sorry if I don't agree with you."

"What I mean to say is that I will be there to protect you and you won't go home until I feel sure you'll be safe."

"Thank you. Can we please go to my place first? These last few days have been hard with just a couple of dolls to distract Vicky and I am afraid that your toy room is going to become too much of a temptation for her."

"Sure. Why didn't you ask before?"

Because you scare me, she wanted to say, but instead she closed her eyes pretending not to have heard him.

The drive was quiet, except for the constant chatter coming from the backseat where Vicky was playing with her two dolls. The noise was soothing. Jerome looked at the two females in the car and thought of his father. Why in the world did he throw this away? He had been ten the last time he had seen him. His father had left him, his three sisters, and his very pregnant mother behind. Once this case was solved he would have to find some free time, go back to church, and go out some. He needed to participate in life again. His life had become a monotony of work and home and he would never meet someone like that.

He glanced at the woman next to him and realized that it could never work out between them. It was a shame, but it could never work out.

Jerome looked at Josie every couple of minutes as he drove and decided he needed to concentrate on the case, not the woman. He wondered about Ivonne and Josie, why had their house been chosen? The last time the victim had been seen was over thirty miles away from where she was found. His gut told him this wasn't random.

"Here we are." He said.

"Oh! I fell asleep. Sorry, I will be in and out. I promise."

"Do you need me to go in with you?"

"No, stay here with Vicky. If she comes she'll want to bring everything she owns."

Jerome turned off the car and rolled down the windows while he waited for Josie to get back. He concentrated on hearing Vicky's monologue conversation. Children were always echoing grown up conversations in their play and he was hoping for something, anything, that might lead him in the right direction. Was Josie as innocent as she appeared? He turned to look out the window. He thought he recognized a car that drove by, but it could not be.

"Are you going to be my daddy?"

He opened his eyes surprised at the question, shocked a little, and just as he was ready to say, "when hell freezes over," he heard a scream come from inside the house.

"Stay here."

"Is my mommy okay?"

"Stay here, don't move."

Jerome pulled his gun out of the holster as he ran into the house, meanwhile, Josie was running for her life out of there. Both people collapsed with each other. Just as Jerome opened his mouth to chastise her, he heard her.

"My bedroom."

"Go to the car, Vicky is alone and scared. Here are the keys, lock the doors."

Jerome took a deep breath. When Josie said my bedroom he immediately knew what he was going to find there, but went in to clear the area. He knew that it would be a female decapitated body just as the other victims had been. He knew that the killing had happened in the bathroom. He knew that the killer let them die slowly as he watched them bleed to death in the bathtub. He knew that the killer had taken the time to finish the job this time. He also knew that the killer would be gone by now.

Jerome was so frustrated. This place was cleaned of everything. The killer had taken the time to clean every speckle. There was no nook and cranny left untouched by the bleach... This guy knew what he was doing.

The only evidence of a crime was in the middle of the bed, where there was a female decapitated body. He was holding his gun ready to defend and protect, but the decapitated body on the bed did not need defending or protecting. He holstered his gun again and approached the cadaver. Where the head was supposed to be, there was an 8x10 picture of Josie's face. Poor Josie, she was probably terrified. The anger that rose in him surprised him. He wanted to protect and shelter her and Vicky. He could not fail them.

He ran out to make sure Josie and Vicky were okay. Nobody would hurt them under his watch.

He called his friend Tom as he was the one leading this case, at least on paper he was. Then he called his boss to apprise him of the situation, and finally his partner. This was going to be one long night.

You then, my son, be strong in the grace that is Christ Jesus.

2 Timothy 2:1

.
Chapter 15

It was two o'clock in the morning when Jerome finally made it back to the apartment. He was exhausted and felt defeated. They had looked everywhere for something, for anything, that would lead them to the killer and found nothing. All he needed was a fast shower and a couple of hours of shut eye. As he opened the door of the apartment he was surprised to find Josie standing there. She was so beautiful. She was so sexy. She was alive and so very angry.

She stood there for a second, not saying a thing, but her hands were fisted at her sides and her eyes were red. He knew it was not exhaustion. He wished he could hold her and comfort her.

"That man you sent me home with...I do not like him."

"Liking is not part of the job description, hon. He's my partner. His job was to keep you safe."

"He didn't even talk, except one word commands. I found that to be rude."

"He has a bad cold. Every time he speaks, he coughs."

"That's ridiculous. He didn't cough one time on the ride home, and I don't like to be bossed around."

"Josie, you don't like anyone, and I cannot investigate this alone. I need you to be agreeable."

Jerome was tired and just wanted this conversation to be over with. Josie was upset and he did not understand why. He was just trying to protect her and her kid, and couldn't this woman wear pants or something underneath that oversized shirt? There was something about a petite barefooted woman wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that drove him crazy. This was too much for him tonight. He moved passed her to the sofa, sat, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes, hoping she got the hint and went to bed. When she did not seem to notice, he continued answering her questions to help her calm down; unfortunately, that was not helping him calm down any. His body was overflowing with adrenaline and his brain was lacking oxygen at the moment. Why couldn't she wear pants to bed? She was too much temptation.

"Josie, I had no choice. He was the first one on the scene and either he brought you home or you stayed there with Vicky while I finished. I knew it was going to be a long night."

"He scares me."

"That's because you don't know him. He's a good guy."

"Please don't leave me alone with him again."

"That's the paranoia talking, but if you let me go to sleep right now, I promise not to leave you alone with him again." He would promise anything to get her to leave. She needed to be gone before he listened to his body instead of his God.

"Thank you. You know I could take the day off tomorrow and help you investigate the case."

"No! You have to go to work. You will be safer there and I'll do a better job without distractions."

"Pity...Did you find anything to help you solve the case?"

"Not really. The place was overly clean. Even the walls were clean. Bleach erases everything."

"Yeah! That's all I could smell when I walked in."

"He doused the place with it."

"Is the killing similar to the one in my mom's house."

"Very much so, with a few big differences. It was as if someone interrupted our killer at your mom's house. Does anyone else have access to the house?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does anyone else have keys to your house? I'm sorry, your mom's house."

"No, not really. My Uncle Ken, but he never comes over uninvited."

Jerome had his eyes closed as he spoke with her. At the moment he needed solitude. His brain needed to rest to be able to function in the morning. He needed a few hours of not thinking, and Josie was pushing him to his limit. He needed her gone. She was too much of a distraction. This was work, she was untouchable.

"Sweetheart I have to sleep for a bit. Please go to bed."

He wasn't surprised when she ignored him completely and continued speaking. He had to be overly tired when he wanted to laugh at her gall. Most women were afraid of him, but not Josie St. Claire.

"This is the same guy from Mississippi, isn't he? And I'm next."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. He saw the worry lines on her forehead and her eyes were wide open. He wanted to take all the worry away from her but did not know how. Words were cheap, but that was all he had to offer at the moment. "Sweetheart, I won't let anything happen to you."

"You have no control in the matter."

"Baby, you need to go to bed. You have about three hours before you have to get up for work and you need to relax."

"Don't think that I didn't notice that you didn't answer my question. Sending me to bed won't change a thing. You have no power to protect me and I am next."

"I don't know how, but I will protect you," he said.

"You can't! You won't!"

"I can and I will."

"How can you be so sure? You can't. I am next. Admit it!"

"No! You and Vicky will be okay. I promise!"

"You can't promise that. How could you confidently say that we are going to be okay?"

"Because God would not have brought you into my life to take you away."

Jerome froze. He could not believe that he said that. Having a woman so near, must be affecting him. In frustration, he got up and went to the bathroom. This woman is driving me crazy. I cannot even keep my thoughts straight.

She was right though. How was he going to protect her and investigate the case when he didn't even have a partner he could count on?

Oh God! I cannot do this on my own. I need you to give me wisdom. You know I cannot keep them safe. Please Father don't let any harm come their way.

Josie moved from the sofa, where he had left her in a frozen stupor, to her room and as she reached the threshold she changed her mind. Instead of going to bed, she went to the bathroom. After a comment like that, there was no way she would be able to sleep. She stood at the door, wondering if she had lost her mind, before she knocked; she only got silence in return. She took a deep breath to calm down, and when that did not work, she called through the door. "Mr. Detective, you are a coward!"

Jerome heard her through the door, and could not help but smile. He had to agree with her. He was a coward, but he was a smart coward. There was no way he was going to get involved with her.

The idea alone was laughable. She was definitely what he did not need. There were so many reasons he did not have enough fingers to count them all. Even if he overlooked the obvious, her willful personality would drive him to an early grave.

He needed to remember that his job was to protect her. She was young and naive and he would never take advantage of her. His mother would box his ears just for thinking of it.

Whatever feeling he thought he might be having was just hormones. She was a beautiful female sharing his home, he was a normal male. His body was going to react to the proximity of the two different genders. This was all scientific, it would go away once she moved back to her house.

Josie was furious with Jerome. How dare he make such a sweet remark and hide in the bathroom. They were probably just words meant to help her feel better, but she could not help the tingling that happened all over her body when he was near. For him to walk away was just cruel. Fortunately, she recognized her body and understood that her hormones were just overreacting to the nearness of a great male specimen, she also understood that nothing would come out of the mutual attraction. Most men only wanted one thing from her and when she was not willing, they walked away. No man wanted to raise another man's child. All of this would be over soon enough and she would go back to her lonely life.

Very slowly she walked to her side of the bed, kneeled down, and prayed. Her prayer became a litany of two phrases she repeated over and over as she cried. You are my shield. You are my protector. You are my shield. You are my protector. She was terrified.

She was terrified of being the next victim, She was terrified of not seeing her daughter grow up. Oh, she was even more terrified of falling in love and not being loved in return, and she was mostly terrified of being too proud to fight for that love. She knew herself and knew that she would let her one chance at love slip through her fingers.

Jerome, still in the bathroom, heard her crying. He struggled with what he knew he was supposed to do, or to be more specific, he struggled with what he knew he wasn't supposed to do. He knew he should get in the shower and rest a little, but he also knew he wanted to hold her. He desperately wanted to make her feel safe. He understood how frightened she must be feeling as he was terrified himself. He was panic-sticken of the idea that he might oversleep and let something bad happen to her and Vicky. He was terrified of failing them. If he approached her right now though, especially after his stupid remark, he was going to confuse things even more. Their relationship would move from the professional to the personal and all three of them would get hurt. He had already done enough damage for one day.

You don't have the power to keep them safe, he reminded himself. Just do the best job you can do. "Help me!" He cried out to the heavens.

He took a shower hoping that her cries would be muffled by the sound of the water, then went to his new bed, the sofa, where he sat and continued to go through all the events of the last few days. He needed to solve this case and send her on her way. He was missing something, but what?

"Darn! Woman! How do you always manage to sneak in on me?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, but I thought of something."

"Can it wait until tomorrow?"

"It's about the case...clues."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"The killer is extremely OCD."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Well, let me give you my impressions as I walked in the house yesterday."

"You already told me what you saw."

"Yes, but you see...I'm terrified, and every time I close my eyes I see new things. I see things I didn't remember seeing before."

"I'm listening."

"Can you look at me when I'm speaking? I don't know if I'm speaking to you or to the air."

"Do you mind wearing some clothes?"

"I am wearing clothes! What's the matter with you?"

"Why do you have to make everything so difficult? I'm losing my sanity here," he said.

"Listen! I am completely covered here. Stop being a prude and listen to me."

"That's the root of the problem, I am NOT being a prude."

Jerome got up in frustration and moved to the recliner where he could put some distance between them. There were so many reasons why this relationship could never work. Not only was his job to protect her, but she was too sweet, too young, and too white; besides what did he know about kids. Until now he had avoided them like a cat avoids water. Oh! He would love a family, but she and Vicky were not for him.

From the recliner, proximity was not the problem. His body was reacting to the view and it was so much clearer now. He was in trouble. He definitely needed to ignore the attraction. This woman was trouble.

"The place was extremely clean, you see." She continued.

"Okay, keep going."

"I think that he cleans after he's done with the killing; but there is more."

"Josie, stop beating around the bush and get to the point."

"Did this last woman come walking into my place or was she already dead?"

"How does that matter?"

"Are you sure you are an experienced investigator?"

"Get to the point Josie. I'm tired."

"Simple, I think he invites them in, pretending to have an attraction. If I have someone over, I'm going to tidy the place up a little, and if it's a surprise visit, I'm going to pick up some obvious stuff. I imagine that an OCD person is going to do a lot more cleaning than just pick up a couple of toys."

"I see where you are going. Continue."

"Let's pretend, the woman walked in with the killer. You know, like a date. They probably sat on the sofa to talk and kiss, who knows what else."

"I don't see what you are getting at."

"Two things. the first one is that he probably picked up toys we left on the sofa."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"When you and I left my house on Monday. You know, when you brought me to get cleaned up..."

"Yeah, yeah, get to the point."

"There was a doll house on the sofa where Vicky had been playing. It was missing when we went there earlier today...I mean yesterday."

"I see what you are getting at. I'll check it out. Now go to bed."

"Be patient and shut up!"

Jerome opened his eyes and looked at her. This petite, young woman with a child, not only was she pretty, but she also had spunk and inner strength he had not seen in many others. "Yes ma'am."

She smiled at him, and when she did... all he wanted to do was kiss her. She was definitely trouble.

"Get to the point, I'm tired," he said.

"Man you are worse than my mother without coffee, but anyhow; when I walked in the house yesterday, I noticed how clean the place was and I didn't leave it like that. I also noticed that the toys were missing and if you did not find them in the trash, they are either in Vicky's room or there is a person carrying a bag full of toys. My bet is that they are in Vicky's room."

"So what?"

"You could get fingerprints from the toys."

"Yeah, but he wore gloves."

"Yes, but if he came in without gloves...and if he wanted to put the woman at ease, he was most likely without gloves. If he is as much of an OCD person as I believe him to be, and he saw the toys out of place, he might have picked them up without gloves."

"Yes, but he or she cleaned everything."

"Yes, but hear me out. The dollhouse can only be picked up a certain way. Your fingers go under the slope of the roof; on the other hand, when I wipe it clean I usually only think of the surface I see, not under the roof. I was wondering if we could check for fingerprints under the roof, perhaps we could find something."

"It's worth a try. I'll call Jones in the morning; he can run the prints."

"No, I don't like him. Please, there is something about him that gives me the creeps."

"I'll call Tom then. Is he okay?"

"Thank you. It's probably me overreacting, but when your friend looks at me I see hatred. I know it doesn't make sense, but he terrifies me."

"I think you don't like cops and that's the problem."

"I don't know where you got that information, but it's wrong. Not only was my dad a cop, but you are a cop, and I like you. I don't like him."

"Ok. Let's assume that she's unconscious when he brought her in. What do you think happened?"

"Well, that would call a lot of attention to himself no matter what time of the day or night he came in. You see, my mom's neighborhood is upper-middle class. Most people work nine to five. When they get home, they are busy doing homework, preparing dinner, so on and so forth."

"Continue, so I understand what you are getting at."

"Simple. My neighborhood is a very low income neighborhood. Those people are usually on Welfare. Do you see what I am getting at?"

"Maybe, continue."

"In the daytime people are meandering around, or sitting on their porches. In the evening, the behavior does not change. If someone comes in with an unconscious woman, people are going to notice."

"What about late at night?"

"Drug dealers pay attention to their surroundings. They would recognize any new face or unusual behavior, it's their survival. When he brought in the woman, she was walking."

Then she slowly got up, walked to him, leaned down, and kissed him on the cheek. "Good night, Jerome."

Darn! She knew what she was talking about and he had not even thought about any of those factors.
Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.

1 chronicles 16:34
Chapter 16

Jerome opened the file from Mississippi, then he proceeded to download the pictures from his phone to the computer and began looking at the pictures. Other than the victims, there were no similarities. In Mississippi and at Josie's house, the only DNA available had been from the bodies, but in Mississippi, the bodies had been left in the trunks of cars, and at Josie' place, the body was left on Josie's bed.

At Ivonne's house, on the other hand, the job was sloppy and they still had not found the killer's DNA. As much as he wanted to believe it was the same person, he was not sure. In all the other places, the killer had taken care of every detail. At Ivonne's house, the job had been sloppy, as if the killer had been interrupted. If that were the case... Who interrupted? And why didn't this person call the cops?

After looking at the pictures from Mississippi and skimming through the notes, he placed the file in the bottom drawer of his desk. Mississippi was just extra information at the moment. He needed to put together what he had actually seen first.

He had two columns, one for Ivonne's house and one for Josie's place. He pictured himself entering both places. At Ivonne's, the door had been open and the lights had been off, at Josie's it had been the opposite; the door had been closed and all the lights on. At Ivonne's house the killer had left through the back door and left a trail of blood. The only DNA other than the victim's, was of those people who lived at the house or those who visited. Then if he looked at Josie's house, the killer had left through the front door and everything had been cleaned. What had Josie said about neighbors?

He then opened on the computer the pictures he had taken, enlarging them so that he could see more details. Josie was right. He remembered seeing the dollhouse on the sofa and a few Barbie dolls next to it when they had gone there on Monday. The pictures showed nothing on the furniture. Did the killer move the dollhouse? It had to be, as no one else was there. The only reason one had to move the toys from the sofa was to sit on it. What did Josie say about making out? Could there be any DNA left behind?

He was sure that he needed to check not only the dollhouse, but also the sofa for DNA and fingerprints, as well as the front door. If the killer had walked in wearing gloves, the neighbors would have noticed. He also needed to go and speak with them. Cops were not always seen on a positive note in that kind of neighborhood.

He started another list of the things he wanted checked before adding to his original list. In both places the women had bled to death in the bathtub. So, assuming it was the same killer, he killed them in the bathroom, the bathtub to be precise, then he moved the bodies to where he wanted them to be found. At Ivonne's house, the body had been left in the bathtub, confirming his theory that the job had been cut short.

At Ivonne's house, it was obvious that the victim was a prostitute; while at Josie's house, the woman wore jeans and a t-shirt. He pulled the Mississippi file up one more time. Although he did not want his own investigation to be influenced by someone else's views, he decided to read the file from cover to cover. The first woman was a well-known prostitute, but the other women were single mothers. The women were all mid to low income. The women had all been decapitated.

He was stumped on this case and, truth be told, Josie was the one solving this case. He had not been able to think of anything else but the sassy woman living at his place, the kisses they had shared, and her sweet child. He knew she was a flirt and this was all a game to her, but he was beginning to hope for things that were not possible. He knew he wanted what Josie offered, and that was the reason having Josie at his place was a dangerous move.

He had never liked the games immature girls played, and now he was falling prey to those same games he had avoided all his life. There was no way that someone as beautiful as Josie could seriously consider a relationship with him, and if she did, it was even more pitiful, as it could never work out between them. This woman was driving him beyond crazy. His hormones had taken over his body, and now they were threatening to take over his brain.

Jerome stood up in frustration. He needed to concentrate on the case and not Josie. He wished he had someone else help him brainstorm the case. He looked up and saw Jones' desk. As usual it was empty. If he was going to get half the credit for solving this case, the man should at least do half the work. He always seemed to be gone, especially when there was work to be done. This had not bothered him in the past, as Jerome liked his solitude, but right now he needed help. He was having a hard time concentrating and needed a fresh perspective. He also needed this someone to go and interrogate Ivonne. How far away was that resort anyhow? He did not want to go too far from Josie just in case she needed him. He would not be able to forgive himself if something happened to her or to Vicky.

He Googled the address and then he looked at the time. It was only ten o'clock. The resort was a little bit over an hour away and if he hurried he could be back in time to pick the girls up from school at three. It was doable if he hurried.

Jerome disconnected the phone from the computer to get ready to go. As he grabbed the phone, he realized he had several notifications, some were from his mom, others from his sister Alicia. He did not have the time to deal with their drama right now. He ignored the messages, not even bothering to read any of them. Then he decided to send a message to Tom. He needed help with the prints.

"Tom, I believe we need to send forensics to Josie's house one more time. I think we can look for fingerprints in a couple of new places."

Jerome went to his car, and there was still no response from Tom. As much as he wanted to stay local, he had to go see Ivonne. She might have answers that might lead them to finding the killer. He tried calling Jones, but as usual there was no answer.

As he drove, he looked at his phone.

"No, can't do. Alexandria is having contractions. Call Gaston." Came the reply from Tom.

Jerome took a deep breath. He had to do what he had to do. Josie didn't like anybody. She did not like Jones and she did not like Gaston. Well he had news for her, he couldn't solve this case alone. Gaston will have to do.

Flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart.

2 Timothy 2:22
Chapter 17

Josie sat at her desk, exhausted, and looked at all the papers she should be grading but did not have the energy to check. The combination of the kids' excitement and her fatigue had been catastrophic. She had snapped at her students several times today when their behavior had been normal. She knew that kids did not stay quiet and calm the last day before a vacation. Thank goodness it had been a half-day.

She wanted to go home, fall into bed and close her eyes. She wanted to sleep and forget this nightmare. She wanted to wake up to a normal day, where her mother would be at the kitchen table reading her newspaper and drinking coffee instead of vacationing in some sort of resort. She needed her mother right now. She wanted all of these events to be over and done with; better yet, she wanted to wake up from the nightmare and realize that nothing horrible had happened. She did not know how much strength she had left. She just could not pretend to be strong when she was dying inside. She crossed her arms and laid her head on the table. All she needed was a five-minute rest.

Darn! As soon as she closed her eyes, the images were back. When would she be able to sleep again? She stood up and began sorting the kids' papers. She needed to go back to her house. The principal at her school had told them to go once their duties were over. She knew she could go to her home and be back with plenty of time to get Vicky from the after-school program.

She dialed Jerome's number to have him meet her there, but there was no answer. She tried again and again. After the fifth time she sent him a text message, "Jerome, kids are gone and I am on my way to my house. I need to see something. You can always meet me there."

Jerome was doing 90 on the highway trying to make it back on time to get Josie at three. He had driven all the way to the resort, only to find Ivonne gone. Not one person at the resort knew where she went. Jerome had tried to call Ken Smith, and he had only said that Ivonne was fine, but refused to give up her whereabouts. Then he had been relieved to have made it to the school with ten minutes to spare only to be surprised by how deserted everything looked. He had walked into the school office to get Josie and Vicky only to find them gone. She had left at noon, shortly after the kids had gone. Why was he not informed that they had a half-day? He knew why... She was an independent female with very little common sense. Didn't she realize that there was someone out there who wanted to kill her? He then asked for Vicky, but she had gone with her mother. He grabbed his cell phone to call her and saw all the notifications he had ignored all day today. He opened the texts and saw that besides his mother, sister and Tom, he had a message from Josie. He opened it and felt his heart stop. He ran to his car. This woman was going to be the death of him. Of all places to go, why had she gone to her house? It was definitely not a safe place to be. He could picture mother and daughter dead. She just had to make it easy for the killer. What was she thinking? He was thankful one more time not to be married. If he felt his life shorten by the stress of keeping this woman alive, what would he feel if it were his wife and child? Are you going to be my daddy? No, hell no. He didn't need children. There was no way he wanted this level of stress on a daily basis. When he chose to marry, it would be to a meek and agreeable woman and no children.

When he got to her place, he saw an undercover car and realized that Gaston was there already. At least it was something. He could feel a bit more relaxed and now he took the time to say a little prayer of thanks. Then he looked at the place. This whole neighborhood was a dump. This trailer was so small; it would fit inside his apartment. What did she see in this place?

The door was ajar and Gaston was there, but Josie was not. Gaston was wearing gloves and dusting every surface he could find. Where could the girls be?

"Hey! Gaston, we've already done this. The doll house and door handle were the only things I was in doubt."

"Sorry, I decided to do it all over again. A new set of eyes can see new things."

"Okay, did you find anything so far?"

"I hit the Jackpot with the doll house. If Josie was correct, and he sat on the sofa to talk or to make out or whatever, I have his hair as well. I hope it is, anyhow. There were five different strands of hairs. I used the black light and there is plenty of body fluid for us to take DNA from the sofa. Of course, this place was rented with all the furnishings, except the beds, so the DNA could belong to anybody. Now the one place that I found most of the evidence was in the bathroom. He cleaned everything with bleach, but he did not think to clean behind the mirror. The blood had dripped behind it. We can compare the DNA from the body with the DNA from the blood behind the mirror. That part should be easy, and if it matches we can compare those results to the DNA in the different strands of hair. If one of the strands of hair matches the first results, we can assume that one of the other hairs belongs to the killer."

"Good job! I have to run."

"Why in such a hurry?"

"She left me a message telling me that she would be here. I need to find her, while she might still be alive."

"Who? Josie?"

"Yeah."

"That's Josie alright, stubborn and independent to the core. Any man who happens to tame her without breaking her spirit is going to be one lucky dude."

"I know this is none of my business, but how do you know Josie?"

Gaston stopped what he was doing and looked through the windows.

Jerome knew that he was at a faraway place. Jerome had enough experience interrogating people that he knew Gaston was ready to talk; he just needed to give him time. Gaston's eyes were vacant.

"I screwed up. As a teenager, Josie was wild. I had to bring her home several times. All of us at the station were always looking out for her, and instead of bringing her in as the law required, we covered for her. We all felt...er feel responsible for her well-being. Most of the guys my age knew her dad. We had been rookies together, we were together in the academy, we were friends. He was a great guy."

Jerome was getting impatient. He did not know where Josie was, and this bozo was taking forever to tell his story. As he waited, he kept calling Josie. He had no idea where to go. Her mother's house was too far to walk to, and she had no car nor money for a taxi. He decided to wait a little while to give her a chance to see her phone. Jerome also wanted to know as much of Josie as was possible. Insight on Josie might give him information needed to catch the killer.

Gaston continued to speak, "My sister had died of cancer. She was diagnosed one day, and two months later we were burying her. My nephew came to live with me, he was a senior in high school. He and Josie started to hang out together and I thought it would be good for both of them. One day Josie shows at my door screaming at my nephew for raping her. Supposedly, they went out to the movies, and he brought her a soda after the movie had started. She did not remember anything after the soda and the next day she woke up with bruises on her thighs and was quite sore. Her mother said that she had come home drunk again, so nobody paid attention to her complaints.

I tried to hear her story, but I was already biased. She had a record of being wild and drunk and my nephew was the only living relative I had left. I didn't believe her and when she never pressed charges, I assumed I had made the right call. Nine months later I learned how wrong I had been.

My nephew moved on immediately. He ran away from the repercussions of his actions, but as with every bully, he did it again. He wasn't so lucky then. Right now he is serving a prison sentence that keeps extending periodically by his own doing.

Jerome was disgusted by the story. Not only did he not listen to Josie, but his negligence caused another young woman to get hurt. He prayed that he was never put in this position, as it took a special kind of person not to have some bias toward someone or something.

"I am haunted every day. My conscience does not let me live. Every time I see Vicky, I see my baby sister. It is awful not being able to talk to her. I would love to bounce her on my knee and tickle her belly. I would love to hear her laughter."

Jerome had no idea what to say. He wanted to punch Gaston, but he wanted to feel sorry for him all at the same time. Gaston had been living on a jail cell created by his own stupidity, but the one who held the key to his freedom was Josie. Somehow he knew that if he helped Gaston, he would be helping Josie get rid of some of her demons.

"You know that finding the prints is not going to help your case with Josie. You need to sit with her and talk."

"I know that, but I don't think she would ever give me a chance to apologize. Besides how do you apologize for something like that?"

"I don't know, but you need to do it. Now I have to go."

"Find the killer. I don't want anything to happen to Josie or to Vicky. That little girl is all I have left, even if I don't get to talk to her."

Jerome was frustrated with the time he had spent with Gaston. Even though it had only been a few minutes, it felt like a lifetime – one he could have used to find Josie, and now he still did not know where she could be. He tried calling her again, but there was no answer. He drove to her mother's house just in case. He walked around the house. Everything was dark. Where could she have gone? He tried calling once more. There was still no answer. If he found her alive, he would be the one to kill her.

He called Jones, he had not answered the phone all day either and it surprised Jerome when he finally heard a human voice on the other line.

"What is it Parker?"

"Where have you been?"

"Here and there."

"That's not an answer. We have a serial killer on our hands and you've been 'here or there.' What kind of crap is that?"

"Who the fu..."

"Stop it right there. I am your senior officer and we have a case to solve. Have you heard from Josie?"

"Do you mean to tell me that she is not attached to your hip?"

"Never mind. Once I find her I am going to attach a GPS to her. I will know where she is every minute of the day.

"Good luck with that."
Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.

Romans 12:9
Chapter 18

Josie had wanted to go to her house. She knew she could probably find evidence the cops had missed, but as she was leaving the school, the after-school teacher who took care of her daughter stopped her.

There were two things a parent was terrified of hearing, the first one being something bad that might have happened to your child, as in health or safety. The second one being your child has lice. Susie, the after school teacher had seen Vicky scratching her head, and when she checked, she had found the little critters crawling all over Vicky's scalp. Josie had no choice, but to go and buy something that might be effective in the eradication of such critters. Poor Vicky. She knew her daughter had been going through a lot in the last couple of months and now this happened to her. Vicky who had been demanding attention by misbehaving, was going to get so much attention, she was going to demand solitude. The house was not going anywhere. Vicky came first.

The two of them walked to the nearest grocery store and bought lice medicine, and enough poison to kill any lice that might have gone in the furniture or bedding, and to appease her so called protector or body guard she bought enough ingredients to make a salad, bread and pasta with marinara sauce. She hadn't cooked in a while and she knew a homemade meal would make for a wonderful surprise. Oh! Who was she kidding? He was going to kill her once he realized there were critters anywhere near his impeccable home.

He was just going to have to get over it. Her daughter needed her right now, and it was not as if she had brought the lice to the apartment on purpose.

As the two of them walked to Jerome's house loaded down with packages, Josie started to doubt her wisdom. The bags were heavy and they were cutting into her fingers. Poor Vicky was being a trooper, not complaining one bit. When they stopped for a little bit to rest their hands, a car pulled up next to them. The driver got out of the car and opened the passenger door. "I'll drive you home." He did not give her the time to decline, but grabbed the grocery bags and put them in the car. Vicky was not happy with the change of plans, as she was happy to spend time alone with her mother. She dropped her bag and attached herself to his arm and bit with all her might. He pushed the child away from him. Vicky fell on the ground and Josie immediately moved to help her up. Jones stood there, grabbing his arm. "I didn't mean to hurt her."

"I know. Vicky what's the matter with you? We don't bite."

He opened the door and Josie and Vicky got in. Josie was not happy to get in his car, but the bags were already in his car, and she did not want to be disagreeable.

Josie could not understand it, as his kindness was obvious, but she still felt his hatred. If she told this to anyone, they would think she was crazy. Her own feelings were confusing her and making her feel extremely uncomfortable with this man, but Jerome had told her that he was a good man.

Later on, she would have a talk with Jerome. If this was a good man, she needed to give him a chance, and so far he was driving them in the right direction. She was going to relax and trust that everything was as it should be.

Once at the apartment she had to face a different problem. "Mommy, I have to pee."

"Okay, baby. Soon we'll be inside. Wait a minute, please."

"Do you have the keys?"

"Not really!"

"How are we going to get in? I gotta pee."

"Hold on baby. I need to borrow your Bobby pin." Her short criminal life was paying off.

Three hours later she had already put the medicine on her daughter's head and the sheets in the washing machine. While she waited for the medicine, she had made the bread, then, when it was in the oven, she had rinsed her daughter's head. She had also sprayed the furniture and had started combing her daughter's hair. Now she was cooking and she still had not heard from Jerome. Where in the world was he? She went to her phone to text him one more time, and realized that she had ten missed calls, all from the same person. Jerome was going to kill her.

She looked around searching for an excuse and did not see anything to help her. The bread was baking, the sauce was ready, the noodles needed to be cooked, but she did not see anything that she could use to help appease his anger. Nobody called that many times just to say hello.

Fifteen minutes later, she still had not called him, and as soon as she heard the keys rattle at the door, she moved forward. She hoped to calm his wrath before he lost his temper in front of Vicky. The last time she had angered one of her boyfriends; he had slapped her right in front of Vicky. That had also been the last man she had dated.

Jerome opened that door, tired and defeated. He had lost the girls and had no idea where to search. He had even put out a B.O.L.O. (Be On the Look Out) on them. As he came through the door, he noticed a couple of things. The first one was the smell of bread baking. It had permeated the whole apartment. The second was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in all his life. Josie was standing in the middle of the room wringing her hands and Vicky was on the floor watching television. They were safe.

"Where have you been?" He asked.

"Have you checked your phone? I sent you a text message."

"Yeah! Like hours ago."

"I should have let you know that I came here instead."

"Yes, you should have, or you should have answered your phone. I lost count on how many times I tried calling you."

"Sorry, I put the phone on silent when I went in to work and forgot to turn it back on."

"Josie..."

"I am sorry..." both said at the same time.

"I was so scared. After I read your first message my heart stopped. I broke the land speed record trying to get to you, and when I didn't find you...Oh, God! You had me so scared. I thought that I was going to be too late."

As he spoke, he moved closer to her. His hands touched her hair feeling each strand, then tentatively he touched her face, as if he could not believe she was there and alive. His hands moved to her arms before he crashed her into him. Then his mouth found her forehead and his hands were back on her hair, and on her face. His lips followed his hands kissing her forehead, her cheeks and then her mouth.

Jerome's hands were roaming her back, pulling the shirt up as he was kissing her. Then he felt her hands tugging at his shirt. He froze. What was wrong with him? This woman was making him lose his sanity.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. Excuse me." He walked away.

Josie wanted to cry at the loss she felt. It had been so wonderful to feel cherished and loved. She knew that it could not be, they had just met. The kiss had been exhilarating, tender and desperate, but it had not been love. She still felt the tingling on her lips the kiss had caused. Then she looked down and saw her daughter playing on the floor oblivious to her surroundings. Josie wanted to cry, instead she moved to the kitchen to boil the noodles.

She could not let herself fall in love with him. She knew it would end in heartbreak, but it was so hard not to dream. He was the perfect man. He was making her want the things she had already given up on.
Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.

Ephesians 4:2
Chapter 19

"What is that smell?"

She froze for a second, but then assumed he was referring to the bread. "Bread...do you want a slice?"

"Yes... Hmm...This is wonderful. Did you make this?"

"Yes, it's my way of saying thank you, but don't think that you are going to get off the hook that easy."

"What did I do?"

"We'll talk later. Right now, sit until the noodles are ready."

Jerome laughed, as he had no idea what to say. He did not want to talk about the kiss and he did not want to apologize for kissing her. He decided to follow directions, perhaps she would forget about it. He sat on the sofa, dreading what would come next, and started paying attention to the television. It was on, but Vicky was not paying any attention to it, instead she was playing quietly with her dolls. Somehow, having Josie and Vicky here felt right. Somehow the idea of a family did not feel so outlandish anymore. Somehow, coming home to a homemade meal made him want this. Life with a child was not as chaotic as he had pictured it. Vicky was actually well behaved. Yeah! This wasn't half bad after all.

His thoughts lasted until he heard Vicky say, "You can't sit there. Mama put poison there."

Jerome froze. He definitely did not need crazy females poisoning his house, his bed, his food,... the bread. He set the bread down. "Vicky come here."

Vicky looked at him for a second, then she put her dolls down and went to him. He was surprised when she did not stop until she was firmly sitting on his lap. Jerome had no idea what to do. Between mother and child, they were driving him crazy. Did they not know about personal space? He did not want to hurt her feelings, so he ignored his instincts and felt his defenses collapsing from one moment to the next.

"Would you please tell me about this poison?"

"I have lice, but I'm not supposed to tell anybody."

"Lice?"

"Yes, but mama already killed them. You can put your head next to mine. They are dead."

"Hmm. JOSIE!!"

"Yes."

"Would you mind explaining this poison Vicky is talking about, and the lice."

Josie froze. She was hoping to avoid the subject a little longer, but here goes nothing she thought. "I had to spray the furniture, but it should be dry by now. She is clean, so you won't get any." She hoped.

"I don't get lice."

"You don't?"

"Nope. Is dinner almost ready? I'm famished and the smell is killing me."

Josie went back to the kitchen, feeling more confused than ever. 'I don't get lice.' Were the lice afraid of him? Did he think he was Chuck Norris? Then she smiled at the absurdity of lice being afraid of anyone. If he was such an arrogant fool, why did she like him so much?

Jerome, who was a loner, was trying to figure out the feelings this child was giving him, and decided he actually liked them. He felt humbled by the trust she had put in him. He felt like a superhero.

Then Vicky turned to his ear and whispered, "we came home with a man. I tried to fight him, but he was very big and very strong."

Jerome froze again. Every time he had decided to accept things, there was another piece of information that was telling him to run in the opposite direction as fast as he could. Take a deep breath he told himself. He would be calm when he opened his mouth again.

"Tell me more about it," he said.

And Vicky told him every detail. Jerome was going to kill Josie once Vicky was asleep. Was she planning on telling him? He was so glad he was single, but then Vicky continued, "are you going to read me a bedtime story today?"

Jerome looked at the child on his lap. He had never had anyone read him a bed time story. His poor mother worked and then went to school. At the end of the day she was too exhausted to read anything. "Yes, if that's what you want," he said.

"I do. Momma brought a fairy tale book from school you can read to me."

Jerome felt awkward reading to this child, but when she demanded a kiss, his heart finished melting. He was drowning and he did not know if he wanted to be rescued.

After he was done with Vicky, he came and sat next to Josie on the sofa.

Josie noticed how upset and tense he looked, and decided that the best defense was a good offense. After all, it had been his fault for not listening to her.

"I am extremely upset with you." She said.

"You are upset with me? Please tell me what in the world did I do?"

"I begged you not to involve your partner, and you sent him to get us."

"Excuse me? Say that again."

"Don't act coy with me. You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."

"Actually, I don't have a clue."

"He came to pick us up, and I would have loved to refuse, but you told me to be agreeable."

"Who?"

"Who do you think? Your partner, of course."

"Jones? When did you see him?"

"Today when he gave us a ride home."

"He gave you a ride home? From where?"

"The grocery store."

"He said nothing. Wait a minute, I thought you didn't like him?"

"I don't, and Vicky likes him even less. She latched onto his arm with her teeth."

"She is like a Chihuahua, biting the heels of the Great Dane. Isn't she?"

She laughed at the image the comment gave her, but then Jerome continued.

"I'm surprised you went with him."

"He might not be as bad as I thought, but he still gives me the creeps."

"So you have said." Jerome was quiet after that. He had spoken to Jones and he never mentioned Josie. He had specifically asked him about her, and he had not mentioned seeing her.

Josie took advantage of his absent-mindedness and leaned into him. Automatically, he put his arm over her shoulders and drew her closer to him. She immediately relaxed into him. They sat in companionable silence for a while, each with their own thoughts.
But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you.

Psalm 5:11
Chapter 20

Jerome, still on the sofa, knew he had blown it the night before, but it had felt so right to hold her and it had felt even better to kiss her. He still did not know who moved first. One moment he had his eyes closed as he was trying to figure out the anger he felt at Jones for lying to him, then the anger was replaced by peace when he felt Josie snuggle next to him.

He could not even justify the feelings to himself, as on one hand he felt calmness and a sense of belonging, and then on the other he felt desire as his brain stopped working and his hormones took over.

He could not explain the tenderness he felt for her. He was so overwhelmed by the combination of feelings, he had a hard time thinking. He just wanted to go to her and have a repeat performance.

Their kiss had been hot and desperate. Somehow, she had ended up straddling him, which would have been disastrous, if a little voice had not brought them back to reality. If it had gone any further, he did not think, he could have stopped. Thank God for Vicky.

His body reacted just at the thought of Josie in his arms, but he knew a relationship with her could not last and he was not looking for a one-night stand. He wanted a lifetime and Josie was not a woman he could make a life with.

He wanted a calm future with a woman who would understand him and accept him with all of his imperfections and Josie was just not that person. Life with her would be a roller coaster at best. He knew that they would disagree about everything. Then there was society. He might be strong enough emotionally to handle society's narrow-minded views, but Josie was too idealistic to see the injustice of the world.

He knew his family's opinion on interracial relationships and it wasn't a positive view. He wasn't worried as he could handle his own family, but he did not want to hurt them. His mother and grandparents had experienced racism first hand. How could he go and tell them that he was dating a white woman after he knew their experiences. Would his family accept Josie? What about Josie's mother? They worked together, and she was respectful and kind to him, but would she accept him as a potential son-in-law?

Knowing what he knew of life allowed him to make wise decisions and he needed to keep Josie at a distance. For now, though, he wanted to remain cautiously optimistic, and he would not make any decisions until the killer was caught. In the meantime, he needed much prayer and meditation.

He walked to the kitchen and found her making breakfast. "Are you hungry? I'm famished." She said as she leaned in to him and gave him a kiss that would make any sane man lose his wits. Oh! He definitely wanted this. He wanted to hold her and kiss her, and he wanted... Prayer, he reminded himself. He definitely needed prayer and much distance from this temptation, but he continued to kiss her.

"You are playing with fire." He said when their kiss broke and Josie looked over her shoulder as she walked toward the eggs she was cooking and smiled in return. She was definitely playing with fire, and he was probably going to get burned if he did not stop this game. He needed some distance and he needed it right now while he could still think.

"Josie, I need to go to the office today. I need you to stay here. Do not open the door for anyone. You hear?"

"What about breakfast?"

"I'll eat something on the way."

"Ok, but I was cooking."

"Sorry, it can't wait."

"Ok."

"Do not open the door for anyone. Right now I have no idea who we can trust. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Josie I mean it. Promise me or I will call Jones to stay with you."

"You know I don't like him."

"I know, but if I have to, I will involve him to keep you safe... Anyhow, he seems to like you."

"Okay, I promise. I won't go anywhere."

"Can I trust you?"

"I'm giving you my word. I won't go anywhere. I will be a prisoner in your apartment."

Jerome choked on the coffee he had been sipping. Where did she come up with these things? This woman would keep him on his toes, he was sure of that, but he could not let her know how much she affected him. He had to be tough and stop this before it got out of hand.

"Let me have your phone," said Jerome.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Nothing, just let me have it."

"No."

"Josie. I am warning you..."

"Here, but ..."

Jerome took the phone, unlocked it, and downloaded an app, then did something to his own phone. Josie took mental notes of a couple of things. The first one being to change her password as soon as possible. She had always taken care of herself and would not be dependent on anyone, not even Jerome. As soon as this nightmare was all over she would delete this app. She already had a controlling mother, she did not need a second guard dog.

As Jerome was walking out the door, Josie followed after him to lock the door. All of a sudden he stopped, turned around and gave her a kiss. It had been such a brief kiss, that for a second she thought she had imagined it, but she could still feel the tingling on her lips.

He turned to go, but then he was back kissing her. He molded her body to his, as he was ravishing her mouth. His hands moved possessively up and down her back, but she was disappointed that they never lowered to where she so wanted to be touched. Then it all stopped, and she did not know how they had made it to the sofa. "Sit. We need to talk," he said.

She felt confused and sat, but almost immediately she jumped up. First he was kissing her as if this would be their last kiss, then...their last kiss? She did not want to hear apologies or excuses. She had heard it all before. It was better if he left it alone.

"I'm not a dog," she said

"Josie, please sit next to me. We need to talk. The kisses, the desire..."

"There is nothing to talk about. We are two adults playing house. That's it."

That is exactly what he was afraid of. He wanted more than just a game. Jerome pulled Josie by the arm to the seat next to him, and when he saw she was going to protest, he put two fingers over her lips.

"Josie, what we are experiencing cannot be."

"Well, I wasn't expecting much, but why not?"

"There is so much. I am here to protect you, not to seduce you."

"You are not doing anything I don't want you to do; besides, it's just kissing."

"It's not just kissing. Kissing leads to other things."

"Jerome we are grown-ups."

"Yes we are, but I am not looking for a one-night stand. I am too old for that."

"So, what are you telling me?"

"You are beautiful, but we are not right for each other."

"Says who? You?"

"Yeah! Says me. When I choose a woman to have a relationship with, it won't start as a game."

"Are you mocking me, or are you for real?"

"Josie, you are beautiful and sexy. You deserve so much more than just a season."

"Jerome, please go."

"I don't want to hurt you. I just know that it won't work between us."

"You are stressing over nothing. It was just a kiss. I am not going to come and chase you around. I won't become a stalker."

"Stop! Don't you see?"

"What am I supposed to see? A man that is not only handsome, but every passing woman has to do a double take. A man who is also kind, smart, polite, and very passionate? Not to mention, one who is respectful and kind to my daughter. Don't worry, I won't have any expectations of a future together."

"Josie, don't do this."

"Listen Jerome, I know that I cannot expect anything. I have a kid and that alone is a man's repellent."

"Vicky is a sweetheart."

"That she is, but please don't worry. I am not expecting anything." She got up and walked to the room she shared with Vicky, but as she crossed the threshold, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. He gave her a quick kiss and before she could push him away, he stopped. By the lines on his face, she could tell he was conflicted. He looked at her and told her to smile. Then, he stepped back and closed the door, placing a barrier between the two of them.

Josie stayed in the room until she heard the front door close, indicating he was gone. Every second she waited standing by the door, was an extra second of torture.

First he's telling me that a relationship between us could not be, then he's kissing me. This man has the power to hurt me, and it scared me so much. God you know all my secrets. You know how much of a screw up I used to be and continue to be. You know how much I want the happily ever after. Oh, what's the use? I know I don't deserve anything. I won't bother you anymore. It was nice to pretend that there would be a happy ending to my life.

Josie cleaned the apartment, played with Vicky and then sat on the sofa while her daughter sat on the floor between her legs. Josie started going through Vicky's head, removing the nits she might have missed, one hair at a time. What a nightmare lice were!

Josie, for her daughter's sake, tried to smile and get distracted by the monotonous chores, but she still could not help the anger she felt rising within her. She might not be what men looked for in women, but she had enough self-respect to step aside when a relationship was over. Most men she had dated since Vicky only wanted one thing; when she did not put out after the first or second date, they never called again. She did not worry about long-term relationships because she did not expect them anymore. It was actually funny that he thought she would come after him... He could grow old waiting. What an egomaniac he turned out to be! 
A happy heart makes the face cheerful, but heartache crushes the spirit.

Proverbs 15:13

Chapter 21

Jerome was in his office trying to concentrate on the case but his every thought went back to the feeling of Josie's wonderful lips on his own. He felt her lips still lingering on his own as if he was stuck in that moment back at his apartment. He was an idiot. First, he was telling her that their relationship could not be, then he was kissing her as if she was his last breath on earth. Her kisses alone were capable of making him believe in what couldn't be; it would be so amazingly wonderful if their relationship could grow. The more he spoke with Josie, the more time he spent with her, and the more he realized that she was an amazing woman. One day she would find a good man to love her and cherish her, she deserved nothing less. He knew he could not be that man, but he still wished he could be, especially after he kept hearing her words. She thought he was so handsome that passing women did a double take. Didn't she realize it was not his good looks they were looking at?

Was she blind? Didn't she see what most other people saw? Their relationship would never survive a day, much less a lifetime. He had done the right thing, even if he had hurt her. She would see it soon enough when their lives went back to normal. Nevertheless, having Josie and Vicky at his house had actually been good for him. All his life he had been terrified of relationships. He had been terrified of another person interfering in his life. He did not like chaos, and he definitely did not partake in drama, but with Josie, he had been able to survive all his fears. He loved having her and Vicky at his house.

He desperately needed to solve this case so she could move back home and he could begin his life. Now that he had a plan and was not afraid of the outcome, he saw God's work in his life.

He pulled out his two lists and added a third list. This time he knew that Josie was not the killer, but what about that uncle of hers? Or the man with the New York accent? Those were his only two suspects at the moment. Her Uncle Ken was the first one he added to the third list. He had to be careful with that one, as his bias against the guy might jeopardize his view. As he wrote down the second suspect, the man with the New York accent, he looked up at his map on the wall. Who was this man? Did he play any part in this? Or was that just an innocent individual looking to buy a house? Were there any such killings up north?

He then looked at the first name again. Everyone knew he was a crooked lawyer, but could he be the killer? What role did he play in the whole thing? Who interrupted the killer at Ivonne's house? And why were the cops not called? He opened his desk drawer to pull the case file out and all he saw were pens, rubber bands, paper clips, and other junk. Where was the file that came from Mississippi? He knew he had left it in this drawer. He opened the two other drawers, and there was no file. He needed that file. He needed to read it again, but most of all, he needed to look at the pictures. He knew that the answers to all his questions were in the pictures. He opened every drawer again, not believing his eyes, and did not see the file. He was ready to blow a gasket.

He took a deep breath to calm down. Was it possible that his partner had actually taken an interest in the case? He doubted it, but he needed to call just in case.

"What do you want Parker?" Said Jones.

"Man, you need to come down off your high horse and change your attitude."

"Did you call to complain about my attitude?"

"Did you take the Mississippi file?"

"You lost it? Never mind. I have to go."

Josie was right. There was something about Jones that he did not trust. He looked at his desk. He decided to check it out. As he went to Jones's desk his phone beeped. It was Tom. The text read: "How is the case coming along? On my way to the Hospital with Alexandria. Wish us luck."

Jerome realized that this was the second time that they were going to the hospital. What happened the first time? He texted his Tom, feeling awful that he had been such a bad friend. He should have checked on them before. Tom had been his friend since they were in elementary school. The least Jerome could do was show he cared. He needed to be there for his friend.

It had always been Tom, Jerome, and Fernando. Everyone knew that where they found one they found all three. Tom's dad and mom were both workaholics. They spent more time traveling than they did at home. Fernando's dad was a mean drunk. When Fernando's dad was sober he was a nice kind man, but when he drunk, he was mean and violent. Both Fernando and Tom spent more time at Jerome's house than they did at their own places. Jerome's mom always welcomed them. Their friendship had lasted all through high school and into college, then when the three of them got jobs in the same town, they knew it was a God thing.

Jerome was the serous one in the group. He thought and he planned. He was methodical in everything he did. He was not a gambler and he was not a risk taker. Tom was completely the opposite. He rode a motorcycle, bungie jumped, and sky dived on a regular basis. He had even risked his sanity by getting married and then having a child. Fernando was normally calm but did not mind a little risk taking. He claimed that the only reason he had not married yet was because God had not sent him the right woman yet. The three of them were closer than brothers and Jerome felt ashamed he had not made time for his friend.

Right now that their first baby was entering this world, his friend probably needed someone to lean on. He needed to go and check on them. Anyhow he needed space from both Josie and the case. His brain was not working at the moment and his hormones were on overdrive. Every time he saw Josie, he wanted to hold her and to kiss her. He had to stop thinking about her. She was not the right woman for him.

Her kisses and her sassy personality made him want what he couldn't have; he wanted to forget all the reasons they were wrong for each other. Why couldn't she see it too? She thought he was handsome and smart. How could he explain to her that life with him wouldn't be easy? In a relationship you needed so much more than good looks and a healthy brain. It was not just the cultural preconceptions against interracial marriages, it was also his lack of experience with kids. He loved Vicky, but he had no idea how to be a dad. His dad had never been around, how could he do it right?

The type of woman he needed had to come from a complete family to help him learn the things he had missed growing up. The type of woman he needed was agreeable, not argumentative. The type of woman he needed would never lie, and she would do as she was told or at least let him in to her life instead of keeping it locked up and showing off her independent nature.

He definitely needed some space from Josie. She was definitely not the kind of companion he needed. A relationship with a woman like her would be a miserable one.

As he was parking his car at the hospital, a notification letting him know that Josie had left her current location popped up. He lifted his head and begged for a miracle. This woman was going to be the death of him. Where could she be going right now? He tried calling her, but there was no answer. He tried texting, but she did not text back. He would give her five minutes to respond and if not, he would go after her.

He called again and she answered. "Hi, what's up?"

"I thought I told you not to go out and not to open the door for anyone."

"For your information, I didn't go anywhere; thank you for checking though. Is there something you wanted?" She acted offended by his doubts. She had been so bored that she decided to just go and walk one time around the block. She just needed a little time away from the four walls, then her rotten luck. He had to call before they could even make it to the first intersection. If she had answered the phone, he would have been able to hear the outside noises and who knows how he would have reacted. Yeah! There was a killer out there, but he or she was probably long gone. She could not wait to go back home. Her little trailer was much smaller, but she at least had a garden to dig and plant. At her place her daughter had a place to play.

Jerome decided to visit his friend and then go back by the house before going to the office. He was frustrated that no one had created a reliable tracking app.
Love does not harm a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.

Romans 13:10
Chapter 22

Josie was bored out of her mind, and Vicky was bored as well. There was very little they could do. Neither one of them liked to watch television and she knew that if she chose to go out again, he would know. She could leave the phone in the apartment, but if there was an actual emergency, she would be in trouble. Josie had no idea how to entertain herself, much less her daughter; so when there was a knock on the door, they both jumped at the sound. As Josie was looking through the peephole, Vicky turned the knob.

"I thought I told you not to open the door for anyone," Jerome said.

"I knew it was you." She lied.

"You did not, but nevertheless, I came to take you girls out to lunch."

"Great! Vicky go tinkle. Let me get my purse."

Jerome chose a fast food place with a playground. The poor child had been inside since yesterday and he knew kids needed to play. He knew he had made the right choice when Vicky dashed to the back of the place and disappeared among all the other kids. He kept an eye on her and leaned into Josie. "You know what she wants to eat, right?"

"Yes, thank you."

As they waited in line, Jerome felt eyes on him. He turned to see and there were a couple of women looking at them, who immediately shifted their eyes when they saw him. He put some distance between him and Josie. He needed to respect her personal space.

Josie immediately felt the distance and moved closer to him. He had made his feelings clear to her, but for now she would pretend.

They sat near the playground to keep an eye on Vicky. At first he was quiet and she was quiet. After the conversation they had in the morning, neither knew how to proceed.

Josie sat there munching on a French fry, feeling very uncomfortable. She wished for something unusual she could use as a conversation starter. She stayed quiet. It had felt wonderful when he had rested his hand on her lower back to guide her in. It had made her whole body tingle when he had leaned into her to ask about Vicky. At one point, she could feel him near emotionally, and the very next moment he was a football field away.

"Anything ..."

"Tom had..." Both said at the same time.

"You first." They said again at the same time, which made them laugh, and Jerome let her go first.

"Any new developments on the case? You know I cannot stay at your place forever."

He knew it could not last. One lunch together and she was ready to distance herself. She was probably annoyed at having been seen with him.

"I have a couple more things I want to look at, and I think by the end of the week you could move back to your place."

"Listen Jerome, this is our vacation, and if you think I am going to stay locked inside the whole week, you are going to be mighty disappointed."

He was saved from replying when Vicky joined them, but instead of sitting on her chair, she went directly to the man she had claimed and pushed herself onto his lap.

Jerome had no idea what to do. He did not deal with kids. He had no idea what to do with his hands. Awkwardly he placed his left hand on her shoulder, when that turned out to be uncomfortable, he let his hand fall to his side. No, that was not going to work either. He saw another dad with his son and saw his hand resting on the child's leg. He did it and it actually felt normal, comfortable. He continued to eat with his other hand.

Josie watched in fascination as her daughter settled on Jerome's leg and grabbed her food and ate and talked, as if it were totally normal for her to sit on Jerome's lap. Then she looked at Jerome. It was comical. It was so obvious he had no idea what to do. She wanted to laugh but instead lowered her head and pretended to eat, so he wouldn't see her smile. His awkwardness was amusing.

Josie started thinking and taking notes from her daughter. Jerome had no choice. Vicky had claimed him, and there was no way he was going to walk away unscathed. Why should he? She knew that she would never be the same; she was falling in love with this man. Why should she not fight for him? The only thing she had to lose was her pride, but if she won, her prize would be the happily ever after she wanted so badly, and he was worth it.

An hour later Jerome walked them to his apartment but did not come in. He just made sure they were safe inside. Vicky ran in and turned the television on and Josie followed. When she noticed he wasn't coming in, she walked back outside. Jerome was standing at the threshold looking at them. She was not going to let him speak this time and say dumb things, so she started speaking.

"Let me guess, you have to go back to the office and you want me to stay inside, lock the door and not open it for anyone. I promise I will. Now go. Do what you have to do and hurry home." She went on her tippy toes, kissed him right smack on the lips and before he could respond in any way she was inside the apartment and the door was closed with him on the outside.

Jerome leaned his head on the door, wondering how in the world he was going to survive this. Josie was not his ideal woman. His ideal woman would not be driving him crazy. There was no way he was going to survive this, between mother and child they were breaking all his defenses.
The LORD delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love.

Psalm 147:11

Chapter 23

Jerome went to his office and Googled decapitated females. In the last ten years, there were quite a few, but most of them were victims of terrorism. He changed the criteria and typed decapitated females and serial killers, and the search narrowed. He started opening files and reading them.

Most of them were useless to this case, and just as he began feeling that his time had been wasted, he discovered an article about three bodies that had been found in Pennsylvania, all females and all decapitated. The three women had been found in the same location three weeks apart from each other. According to the article, the killer was never found. The article was three years old.

He called the police station in Pennsylvania and had the file sent over night to him. Deputy Hernandez was more than willing to help, as one of the females murdered had been his fiancé. He wanted this man caught. He had even offered to fly in and see how he could help with the investigation.

They had spoken for about an hour, and the similarities of the case led them to believe it was the same man. One of the things to search for were people who had moved to the area in the last couple of years, but he knew that was impossible. In frustration he leaned back and wondered how to put the clues together. Why was he having such a hard time on this case?

He knew why. This was a small town and they did not have that many resources nor the people to help. The big offices had teams of cops, and here it was just him and Jones— who was supposed to be his partner and not only did he have a bad attitude, but he was never around. In the local police department, there were only two police officers as well: Tom, who was busy with his new baby, and Gaston, whom Josie wanted to keep at a distance.

The only one he could trust and count on at the moment, regardless of Josie's feelings, was Gaston. He knew he could call him; as a matter of fact, he should call him to find out if they had learned the name of the last victim, and if they had found anyone else's information.

"Gaston, this is Parker. What have you found out."

"Hello to you, too."

"Sorry, I am anxious about this case."

"I just received the forensic report. Your victim is Francis Brown. She has been in and out of jail in the last year or so, with drug related crimes. She comes from a good family. She has one kid who lives with her parents. Since she got hooked on meth, they have not been able to help her or control her."

"Anything else?"

"We checked the DNA on the different strands of hair and compared them to the body's DNA, and the DNA found in the blood behind the mirror. We also compared the DNA found in the hairbrush that had fallen behind the toilet. We found three other people, other than Josie and Vicky, that is. Of those three, one moved up north, and has not been here in the last couple of years. One is our victim, and we know that because the DNA from the hair matches the DNA from behind the mirror and the body. The last one is not on file anywhere. I'm surprised your people missed so much."

"I'm not. The supervisor spends most of his time at home, and the rest follow his example."

"You need to come back here."

"I'm thinking about it. Anyhow, how do you know they are Josie's or Vicky's DNA?"

"I took hair samples from the hair brush in the bathroom."

"Yeah, I forgot about the brush. Any fingerprints?"

"Yes, I could not find anything on the door handle, and the prints I lifted from the doll house belong to Vicky, Josie and your partner."

"It's funny, I don't remember him entering the house. Can you fax me the results? I want to send them to someone in Pennsylvania."

"What's going on in Pennsylvania?"

"A hunch. Josie said something about a man with a New York accent and I did a search. There was a similar crime in Pennsylvania. They were able to pull up some DNA, but it did not match anyone either."

"So you think our killer moved from up north to here making sure he or she left his calling card in every town."

"Something like that. Hey Gaston, one more question, unrelated."

"Shoot"

"Tell me about Kenneth Smith."

"The very prolific defense attorney?"

"Yeah."

"He's a lawyer. What more do you need?"

"I want more than that. If you were friends with Josie's dad you knew him then."

"What are you looking for?"

"I wish I knew."

"If I don't know what direction to go, I don't know what to give you. In my opinion he was always garbage, but Chase liked him."

Jerome knew he was stalling. He had done everything he could do tonight, but now he had to go home. Perhaps he could stop by Tom's to see the baby before heading to the apartment.

"Hi, what brings you here?" Said Tom.

"Just checking on the new parents and baby."

"You know very well you did not come to check on us."

"Of course I did."

"Jerome, we've been friends since elementary school."

"I know."

"What's bothering you?"

"I need to talk about the case with someone."

"Tell me about the case."

"There is still a killer out there who is smart enough not get caught, and while he's still loose I can't let her go yet."

"You are afraid she is next."

"I know she's next. The killer made sure we got the message. At first, I thought that it might be Ivonne, but with the second killing, the message was clear. The only way I can think of catching him right now is to use her as bait."

"Who? Josie? Bad idea."

"Really bad idea."

"Is something else the matter?"

"I don't think so. I just need her to move back home so I can get my life back."

"Is she that much of a pain."

"Yeah! Kind of. She cooks, she cleans. I find my laundry washed and folded. She has even bought fabric softener."

Tom choked on his laughter. He tried to be sympathetic to his friend, but he lost it and laughed so hard he ended up bent over holding his stomach to be able to catch his breath.

"What are you laughing at?"

"You are falling and you are falling fast."

"She has to go. I need my sanity back."

"Is that really what you want?"

"You know it's unprofessional for me to get involved with her."

"You're an adult. Wait until the case is solved."

"Wait for what? She belongs in a different world."

"Explain."

"She's not right for me – she is stubborn, willful, doesn't do as a say, doesn't stay where I leave her. Not only that, but we come from two different cultures."

"For a second I thought you wanted a dog, but then you threw out the culture thing."

"Tom, you know very well what I'm talking about. How do I explain it to my mother?"

"First of all, when two people come together, they have to adjust, some more than others. Second, your mother wants your happiness."

"It would bother her."

"Your mother is not like that. Growing up I spent more time at your house than mine."

"That was different."

"No it wasn't. Your mom loved us. She saw us for the individuals we were."

"Let's just be realistic, Tom. Not everybody can have what you have."

"You're right, what I have requires guts, commitment, and lots of work."
May the LORD now show you kindness and faithfulness, and I too will show you the same favor because you have done this.

2 Samuel 2:6

Chapter 24

Josie had no idea what to feel, perhaps she had pushed too hard. It was nine o'clock and he still wasn't home. She had eaten with Vicky and then had put a very sad Vicky to bed... and he STILL had not come home.

She really liked him, and would have liked to see where things went. She understood it was a dangerous game, and her heart could end up in a thousand little pieces, but she was still willing to risk it. The problem was that Vicky's heart could be damaged beyond repair. She had already decided he was going to be her daddy and the way things were going, she was going to be quite disappointed. Josie could not blame her as he was everything a woman could ever want in a man, unfortunately though, she was not what most men wanted in a woman. His kindness toward Vicky had given her hope to believe that they might have a future together, a future in which she would not end up alone.

Her mom and dad had been happy. It had been a fairy tale story, even if it had ended too soon. A while back, she had asked her mom if she would do it all over again, if she would still marry my dad if she was aware of the heartache it produced at the end. Her mother had said 'absolutely.' Josie wanted what her parents had. She wanted a man that followed her dad's characteristics: a man who loved Christ, a man of honor, honesty, and integrity. A man who would love her and cherish her, and a man who would be a good dad to her baby. So far, all the ones she had dated had lacked those qualities. Now she had found one. She had found one worth fighting for, and he did not want anything to do with her. Then again, his kisses told a different story.

Jerome had been sitting in his car waiting for her to go to bed. When the lights of the apartment had not dimmed, tired and grumpy, he had given up and gone in. She was sitting on the sofa reading. She was so beautiful and she was actually wearing pants.

He sat next to her, but when she tried to lean into him, he put his hand up to stop her, and his heart broke at the hurt in her eyes. "This thing, whatever is going on, this is not real, Josie."

"How do you know it is not real if you won't give it a chance?"

"Because we are so wrong for each other."

"Explain it to me. I will give you space if I understand. Are you married? Is there someone else?"

"There is no one else."

"Then please help me understand, I know you are not gay."

"Where do you come up with these things?" He smiled at her as he raised his hand to catch a tear that had spilled from her beautiful blue eyes. When he saw the contrast of his dark hands compared to her light skin, he lowered his hand.

Josie noticed his eyes as they shifted from her to his hands. She was expecting the caress and shifted forward, instead she found a void. A thousand things passed through her mind all at once. The sadness and confusion were immediately replaced by fire.

She jumped from the sofa and started pacing the room. She was talking to him, but in a rhetorical way as she was not giving him a chance to respond.

"Oh, no! You wouldn't be such an idiot. You could not have..., you were...We live in the twenty-first century and people don't drink from different water fountains any more. You are a stupid moron. What is the matter with you? You were comparing our skin color! No, you wouldn't be that dumb." Then she stopped right in front of him, and asked, "Are you that dumb?"

He did not respond. He had not moved from the sofa, waiting for her to come up with her own conclusions, and she had. He got up and gently grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to the mirror in the bathroom. He stood behind her. "Tell me what you see."

"I see a man who is kind, honorable, ..."

"Stop! You know exactly what I mean."

"Okay! If you want me to see our superficial features, then I will. You are dark and I am light. You want more specifics, you are black and I am white. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything!"

"Okay, so if I go by your logic, when I am looking for a husband... I need to look for a blue eyed, blond haired man. It won't matter if he loves me or Vicky, what matters is this utopian idea you have created in your narrow-minded head. Excuse me. You are right. I just realized how right you are. I need to look for superficial features not for a man who loves me and my daughter, nor for a man with honor, honesty and integrity. He has to have blue eyes and be blond. Yuppie do!"

"Josie, stop."

"Why? Are you afraid your idiotic ideas might be proven wrong?"

"Don't you see it?"

"Don't I see what? That you are an idiot for paying attention to labels meant to divide people. That's not who you are; that's not who I am."

"STOP!"

"You Mr. Detective, don't scare me one bit, so stop screaming before you wake Vicky. Now you are going to listen to me. When I see you, I see a man I could fall in love with, but I won't know unless we give us a chance. I see kindness and love. I see respect for me and my daughter, but you are right. Those qualities grow on trees. I am sure I will find them in a blue eyed, blond male. Oh! I dated one of those and a drink later, there is Vicky."

"Josie, stop!"

"No! Let me finish. If I am looking for superficial characteristics, where do I stop? Because your logic tells me that it is not just the skin color, but also another superficial factors such as height; therefore, since I'm short, he'd better be short, too." Josie walked out of the bathroom still talking. The last coherent thing he heard was something that sounded like narrow-minded pigheaded males.

"Josie come back please."

"Jerome, I don't like arguing with a fool; so unless you are going to give me a valid reason why you won't give us a chance, this is pointless."

He followed her "Today, people were looking at us and talking."

"Yeah, well tell me what they said."

"I don't know, but it wasn't good."

"How do you know? Better yet... Why do you care? Do you know who those people were?"

"Eventually, it would start to bother you."

"Don't you dare go and include me in your narrow minded, shallow views. People have been looking at me, speaking about me, since before I even got pregnant. They judged me because I had a nose stud, because I wore black lipstick, because my clothing was all black, because I was a single mother, and on and on it went. Not one of those people approached me to see what was going on inside my head or my heart. Not one of those people approached me to see if I needed something when my daughter had to stay at the hospital an extra week. My mom had to work and I was alone and scared. If you think I am going to pay attention to the ignorant people of this world, think again. Excuse me."

"Where are you going?"

"I told you I don't argue with fools. I am going to bed. By the way, your dinner is in the oven."

"I ate."

"I know. Only a fool would choose fast food over a homemade meal. Sweet dreams."

He was definitely a fool, thought Jerome. She was beautiful, intelligent, sassy, and she wanted him. He went to the oven and saw a plate with mashed potatoes, fried chicken, green beans and gravy on the side. It had been hours since his last meal.
Hate evil, love good; maintain justice in the courts. Perhaps the Lord God Almighty will have mercy on the remnant of Joseph.

Amos 5:15

Chapter 25

Josie felt extremely confused. Looking back at her life she saw all the wrong paths she had taken. Every decision she had made, right or wrong, had been seeking attention. She did not understand it then as she did now that all she had ever wanted was a dad. All she ever wanted was the male figure that would make her feel like a little princess. She saw the same need in her daughter.

She was comforted in knowing that her father never abandoned her. It was death that took him away. Dear Father, I want you to know that I've been angry with you for a long time, please forgive me for my rebellious ways. I know you have your reasons, but I am still hurting. I need your help.

As she grew up, she paid attention to her friends. Not all of them had a dad, not all of them had a mom, but they had someone to take their place. She did not have uncles or grandparents. The only males in her life had been the cops, her dad's old friends.

It had all started by accident, she had been invited to a party by one of her friends. She had not been told that her parents were out of town and that her older sister was the one throwing the party. Needless to say, the alcohol and the drugs were an integral part of that party which brought the involvement of the cops. She knew them well as they came to see her on her birthday every year.

The loving attention that she received from them was enough to encourage her to break the rules more often. The more rebellious she became, the more attention she received from them. That did not stop until little by little they stopped caring. They gave up on her rudeness, they gave up on her attitude. They gave up on her. She saw it now, she would have given up on herself as well. Only one man had stood by her the longest.

Deputy Gaston had been with her during every facet of her life. He had been the one to take her to church. He had been the one to go with her to the daddy-daughter dances. He had been at her side until she confronted his nephew, and as predicted, he walked away from her as well.

She knew that no matter what life appeared to be at the moment, God had a plan for her. As long as she was alive, she would trust him. If God intended for her to marry, she would find the right man, and if he intended for her to stay single, then she would be okay and her daughter would be okay. One thing she had learned from her time with Jerome was not to settle. So far, every guy she had dated had been immature, and sometimes abusive. From now on, she would set her standards high. Jerome had shown her that there were good men out there. She decided she would wait for God.

Looking back at her life, she realized how lucky she had been. With all the wrong choices she had made, she could have ended up like one of those two girls that had been killed. She understood her mother now, and felt sorry for all the times she had caused her worry. Things were going to be different now. She would sleep trusting in the one God, who loved her, and he had sent her Jerome to protect her. Therefore, she would listen and pay attention to him. She knew this would be hard as she tended to be independent.

Josie got up early the next morning feeling good about life. There was only one problem, the man who wanted her dead. He was probably long gone by now, she reasoned to herself. She hoped he would get caught soon, so no one else would get hurt, but she was confident she was safe. She had made some decisions the night before. In order to get her life back, she needed to move to her place, or if Jerome was so concerned for her safety, she needed to move in with a different bodyguard. It was not a good idea to be in close proximity with a man she found extremely attractive.

She walked out of the room ready to tell Jerome she was done with these living arrangements. She needed to go home. She looked in the living room, bathroom and finally kitchen and Jerome was nowhere to be found. There was only a note on the table.

Josie, I am sorry. I will be back to take you and Vicky out to lunch. Please wait for me. We need to talk.

Jerome.

P.S. Don't open the door for anyone. We do not know who to trust.

So, Jerome what are you sorry for? Are you sorry because you are attracted to me and I am attracted to you, or are you sorry because you are letting the ignorance of a few people influence your decisions? Why in the world couldn't you just leave it alone? I had already made peace with what couldn't be and then you give me hope for what I so desperately want. She crumbled the paper and threw it in the trash.

She knew that God had a plan for her. She needed to believe that. She needed to believe that God loved her and that He would not leave her alone. She was so afraid of being alone, but if her mother had handled single parenthood, she would be able to handle it as well.

As she wiped the table, big fat tears rolled down her face. She wanted to leave before he came to get them, but she knew she had to wait. She needed time to process God's plan and she had promised to trust Him.

There was only one person she knew she could trust and confide in. This one person was also the only one person she knew would stand by her side no matter what. She hoped that her phone was fixed. She called Maria Esperanza.

"Hey! Are you still upset?"

"Of course not. Children are always going to push our sanity to its limits. How are you doing? I've been missing you."

Josie not being able to control her heartbreak any more burst into tears. "I am so scared and I am tired of waiting."

"Sweet heart, I am so sorry this is happening to you."

"I know. Me too. If I could at least understand what I did."

"You probably did nothing. This is just a sick person."

"I am so scared. I want to get out of here, but I promised to wait."

"Do you want me to come see you? I can bring the kids to play with Vicky."

"I'm sure Jerome won't mind. I'll call him to make sure. Perhaps we can order a pizza or something."

"It sounds like a wonderful idea."

Jerome was busy looking at the file, but not seeing anything. He was having a hard time concentrating as his conversation with Josie the night before was weighing on him. He did not like the idea that he had hurt her. He wanted to protect her from the heartache. He needed to speak with his pastor. Right now, he had no one to help him brainstorm the case and he had no one he could confide in about his emotional struggles. His pastor would hopefully know how to set him straight.

As he began gathering his keys and wallet his phone rang. Couldn't his family just leave him alone? He thought, but then felt bad as it was Josie calling him.

"What is it Josie?" Answered Jerome.

"Hello to you too."

"I'm sorry. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah! Listen. I feel claustrophobic here."

"I left you a message. Let me finish here and then I'll take you girls to lunch."

"Well, actually, you can stay at work. I'm having my girlfriend come over."

"Which girlfriend?"

"You met her. Remember? She was babysitting Vicky."

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then you don't mind."

"No, not at all, but what about lunch?"

"We'll have pizza."

"Okay then. Call me if you need anything."

I will praise you with the harp for your faithfulness, my God: I will sing praise to you with the lyre, Holy one of Israel.

Psalm 71:22

Chapter 26

Jerome took a deep breath. He was glad that he did not have to see her so soon, and this would give him a chance to speak with his pastor. He hated chaos and confusion and right now Josie represented both. Fernando always knew what to do.

"Hey Jerome, I haven't seen you in a while." Pastor Fernando said.

"I know. Life has become hectic."

"Since you never give surprise visits, I imagine that you want to talk about something."

"So perceptive of you."

"I don't mean to be rude, but I am performing a wedding in a couple of hours."

"We can talk another time."

"Jerome, I told you I have a wedding, not because I want you to come back, but because I want you to start talking and not waste thirty minutes on formalities."

"Okay. There is this girl."

"What about her?"

"I am interested in her."

"Is she a Christian? You know the Bible is very specific about choosing your spouse."

"Yeah! I know. We are supposed to be equally yoked, but that could mean so many things."

"Jerome, spit it out. You know very well what it means. Now tell me what is it you want it to mean."

"Fernando, she's white."

Fernando leaned back into his chair as he lifted a silent prayer for wisdom. How was he going to handle this one? Why in the world did he avoid this subject? This was a real issue in today's society. "Tell me Jerome, what does the Bible say about color?"

"I don't know what it says about color. I don't think you have taught about it before."

"I didn't think I needed to teach about it, but perhaps I was wrong. In Genesis, how many people did God create?"

"What do you mean?" Asked Jerome.

"God created Adam and Eve. What race were they?"

"I don't know. The Bible doesn't say."

"How did he create them?"

"After his own image."

"What color is his image?"

"The Bible doesn't say."

"Okay Jerome, for the sake of time and because I see you getting frustrated I am going to spell it out for you. God created you and me from the same generic make up he created Adam and Eve. He created you and me from the same genetic makeup he created Noah and his sons. I have another question to ask you."

"Shoot."

"Why did God send his son, Jesus, to die on the cross?"

"To save us sinners. He received our punishment so that one day we could have eternal life and live with him in heaven."

"Okay. So did He mention anything about color?"

"No."

"Then understand something. God did not create color. Color happened based on geography. Those who are from the north, need the lighter color to absorb the vitamin D from the sun. Those people who are closer to the equator need darker skin to protect them from too much sun. Me, I am in between.

God does not love one race more than another. Regardless of our different skin colors, He still sent his son to die for me and for you. I am not better than you and you are not better than me. When Jesus died, he had one goal in mind: to save the sinner."

"Yes, but..."

"There are no buts in here. It's very simple. The barriers are created by people and not by God. Now tell me what does being equally yoked mean to you, as the Bible does mention that?"

"According to your teachings, it means that we have to both be believers?"

"Not my teachings. Read the Bible for yourself; but anyhow, what does it mean to be a believer?"

"That we recognize that we are sinners, and that our sin prevents us from entering the kingdom of God."

"And..."

"If we want to go to heaven, Jesus is the only bridge."

"I like how you put that, but I want to hear you say it."

"Accepting that Jesus is the only Son of God, born to die a death he did not deserve, and asking him to fill us with his Holy Spirit and guide our lives in our own surrender is the only way we can have eternal life. It is the only way that we'll see Jesus."

"So you know what it means to be equally yoked, did you say anything about skin color?"

"No."

"Then what are you waiting for? Go and get your girl and stop worrying about stupid stuff."

"She is just wrong for me."

"How?"

"She is willful, and doesn't follow directions. She never stays were I tell her to stay. She drives me crazy."

"You don't want a human companion, you want a dog."

"Very funny."

"Sorry, couldn't help it; but on a serious matter, if you were to find a woman who never challenges you, you'd be bored out of your mind."

"What about the Nay-Sayers?"

"Who cares about them? They are just a bunch of people that need to search their hearts and the Bible for answers."

Jerome was quietly processing what Fernando had said, when his phone beeped. He looked at the phone, as his eyes closed for a second. Then he looked at his friend and Pastor and felt the need to explain his circumstances.

"My mother and my sister have been texting and calling nonstop for the last couple of days. I am afraid to tell them that I have a woman, a white woman at that, living in my apartment."

"Well, you haven't said any of that to me. You know my opinion on that."

"It's not like that Fernando. She is in the bedroom, I am on the sofa, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't want that to change."

Fernando raised an eyebrow in response.

"Well, you have a wedding to perform and I have a killer to catch, and I'd better do it soon, or Josie is going to take matters into her own hands."

"What does that mean?"

"I already told you, she never follows directions. I have to go."

"I'll be praying."

"Thanks."
For he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones.

Proverbs 2:8
Chapter 27

Josie went to the room, pulled the sheets out, and stuck them in the washing machine. She did not know what Jerome was going to say when she proposed to go home or to the protection of a different cop, but she was ready to argue her point. They needed space to think. She needed space to pray and meditate.

She would praise God for every gift. She would thank God for every day. He was good to her and He was good all the time. If He meant for her to be single, then so be it, but if He meant for her to marry, she would never settle for anyone inferior to Jerome. He would be the standard she used from now on. She tried to convince herself that things were going to be okay. If she repeated this enough, she might actually remember it when life became unbearable.

Just as the night before, placing her trust in God gave her an overwhelming sense of peace.

The doorbell rang and she found herself glad that her friend was finally here to distract her from all the confusion in her head. She was a bit surprised at how fast Maria had made it, but she also knew how Maria drove. If Maria caught all the lights green and hit no traffic, it was doable. She approached slowly as she continued to be reserved. Would she ever feel the freedom to just open the door again? This psycho had stolen something precious from her – he had stolen her peace of mind.

Her daughter, not understanding the danger they faced, ran to the door. Before Josie could say anything, the door had been opened. There went his first warning, "don't open the door for anyone."

On the other side of the door was a tall, black, beautiful woman, whose smile disappeared as soon as she saw Josie and Vicky.

"Who are you?

"Hi, may I help you?" Both women said at once.

"I thought this was Jerome Park's apartment."

Josie forgot to be afraid as she understood her predicament. She could never compete with this beauty. No wonder he had turned her down. She had misread the whole thing. It was not race as she thought. It was much worse. It was another woman.

"It is. Please come in."

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my brother's apartment?"

Josie must have looked like a fool to the other woman because as soon as she heard the word 'brother,' she straightened her shoulders, smiled, and did a victory dance. She did not care that she was in the middle of the foyer, she did not care that the younger woman was looking at her as if she were crazy, Oh! She was definitely crazy and so very happy.

"I've been in the car for a long time, I need to use the bathroom." The woman pushed in, ignoring Josie and disappeared into the back room and curious Vicky followed her. Josie knew that her daughter was going to interrogate the younger woman until she was satisfied with all the answers. Josie did not need to do anything but wait and listen. Perhaps she was being stupid by hoping again, but she could not help it. She still wanted the happily ever after with him.

As Josie leaned in to close the door, the door was pushed open by a meaty hand. For a second, she froze... and then she saw him.

"Uncle Ken what are you doing here?"

"Is that how you say hello young lady? Did you forget your manners?"

"I'm sorry, I was not expecting you."

"You are not going to invite me in?"

She remembered Jerome's warning: Do not open the door for anyone, don't leave this apartment, but it was too late now; what was she supposed to do? Then she remembered Jerome next words: Right now I don't trust anyone, but even though she did not like this man very much, she had known him all her life and did not think he could hurt a fly. He was not the kind of person that would get his hands dirty.

Ignoring his question, she asked one of her own. She was trying to figure out how to ask him to leave without sounding rude.

"Uncle Ken what are you doing here?

"I came to take you out to lunch."

"But I can't. Jerome will..."

"But nothing. I've come to take you and Vicky out to lunch."

"Where to?"

"It's a surprise."

"I cannot go, I'm waiting for someone."

"If it's the cop, don't worry about him. He knows I'm here. Let's go."

At her hesitation, he continued, "Listen kiddo, your mother's waiting for you and the two of you need to talk."

"I don't think I can speak with her right now." There were so many things she had to set straight in her head first.

"Josie, your mother needs you right now. Let's go."

"Uncle Ken, I don't think I can. Please don't push."

"You can and you will. Now be a good girl and let's go."

At her hesitation, Kenneth Smith grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her toward the door with him.

"Your mother has finally agreed that we should become a family. The only thing stopping us is you, so you are going to be a good girl and fix it."

"Uncle stop! You are hurting me." Josie pulled her arm away.

Ken Smith was caught by surprise when she pulled her arm away, but not deterred – he immediately moved his hand to her hair.

"Ouch! You are really hurting me."

"Let's go, you brat!"

Josie hesitated for a second and he jerked her harder against him. Josie had no idea what was going on. She was so frightened, she had never seen her uncle act in this manner. For a second she wondered about her daughter and Jerome's sister, but realized that if she called attention to them, her uncle may hurt them. Did he lose his mind? She had never seen him act like this.

He couldn't be the killer, could he? Did Jerome suspect him? Why hadn't Jerome said anything to her?

She stopped fighting and let her uncle lead her away. She wanted him as far away from Vicky as was possible. She said a silent prayer for the safety of her daughter.
I will betroth you in faithfulness, and you will acknowledge the LORD

Hosea 2:20
Chapter 28

Alicia was angry. Was this white woman the reason her brother, her hero, had stopped answering her calls? She was so upset that she forgot about the reasons she had come searching for her brother and called her mother.

"Mom, I'm okay, but Jerome has lost his mind."

"Do you know how worried I've been? Where are you?"

"I'm sorry mama."

"Where are you? Come home now."

"Momma, I can't come home. I'm at Jerome's."

"You are at WHERE?"

"Jerome's?"

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No momma. I'm sorry momma. But this is more important. Do you know why he was ignoring us? You have to fix this momma."

"What are you talking about?"

"Momma, he's dating a white girl."

"Where is your brother?"

"I don't know, but I have to go."

Vicky, tired of waiting for this new person to get out of the bathroom, decided, to open the door and see her. She had not decided yet if she liked her or not. "Who are you?"

Alicia was usually the one with the attitude. She knew how to use her tone of voice and her body language in her favor. She had learned that the angrier she sounded, the more she intimidated people. She loved the power, but she was not used to being on the receiving end.

She washed her hands and splashed some water into her face trying to figure out what to do with this child. She was tired. She had left her home at four in the morning and had only stopped for gas and bathroom breaks. Right now, she did not need a child with an attitude in front of her.

She needed a little nap, but first she wanted to know what to do with these two intruders.

As she walked out of the bathroom, ignoring the child, her nerves went on alert. She heard angry voices.

Within a second of Alicia hearing the people speak, she saw Vicky try to run past her. Alicia wanting to know who had come and hoping to get ammunition against this white woman, grabbed the child and pulled her face into her shoulder. She wanted to know who the man was. If this woman was living with her brother, she should not have male visitors.

Then Alicia heard the mother cry out in pain. Alicia was not so sure anymore that this was a welcomed visitor, but on instinct she kept holding onto the child. The little one tried to dislodge herself from the unwelcome hug and when Alicia continued to hold her tight against her shoulder, the child decided to go vampire on her. She bit with all her might and although Alicia would not normally pull a child against her body, willingly or not, she held on tightly to the little kid as if her life depended on it. Right now she knew they had to stay quiet and not call attention to themselves. As this small child was still attached to her shoulder, she decided to whisper in her ear.

"Listen kid. Your mamma is in trouble now, and we won't be able to help her if the bad guy catches us too." Vicky let go at the same time they heard the front door close.

Maria Esperanza was parking her car in front of the building when she saw Josie being pushed into the car in front of hers. Josie turned her face towards her, and their eyes locked. It had been brief, but long enough for Maria to know her friend was in trouble. She grabbed the phone and dialed 911. She told them what she saw and where they were before she hung up, not giving the dispatcher a chance to say anything.
Then He touched their eyes and said, "According to your faith let it be done to you"

Matthew 9:29

Chapter 29

Jerome swiveled in his chair and looked around the office for anything that might enlighten him about what to do next. He was tired and frustrated. He had been sitting at his desk for a while looking at the pictures and reading all his notes, but the only thing he could think about was his conversation with Fernando. Was he making it a bigger deal than it was? Did it really matter what people thought?

He took a deep breath and put his personal thoughts away. He had finally received the file from Pennsylvania and needed to concentrate on the case first. There would be plenty of time later to analyze his feelings.

He put both files, the one he just got from Pennsylvania and the one he had been working on, side by side. The killer in Pennsylvania and the one from Josie's place were definitely the same, but the one from Ivonne's house did not fit the profile. There were similarities, but there were too many discrepancies. Was that a copycat or did the job get interrupted? Where did that file from Mississippi disappear to? Could Jones have taken it?

He swiveled one more time as a child would, but instead of making it all the way around he stopped half way through. As usual Jones' desk was empty. He got up and walked there. He sat on Jones' chair. There was no sign of anyone using this desk. He opened the drawers. They were all empty except for the occasional pen or paper clip. There was some paper in the bottom drawer, but nothing else. In frustration he slammed the desk drawer, and then he heard a thump. He opened the drawer one more time, and the file was there. Just as he went to pick it up, his phone beeped one more time. This time it was his sister. He would not speak with them right now. His mother had a weird mother's intuition and she would immediately know that he was falling in love with the wrong girl, and his sister was probably calling him for advice she was not going to heed. He knew the game and he refused to be part of it. He could not add any more drama to his life. He had enough of that already.

Ignoring the phone, he pulled the file out, and just as he did his hand bumped into something else. There was a small album attached to the roof of the drawer.

He thought about opening it, but felt he was intruding in the other man's life. Curiosity won, and he looked around. When he saw no one, he opened the book. The first page was a title: The life of Freddy Jones.

His phone beeped again and this time it was the phone tracker letting him know that Josie had left her current location. Couldn't this woman just stay put? He needed a meek woman in his life, a woman who would actually follow directions. She had asked for her friend to come over, she said nothing about going to her friend's house. He could not wait until this was all over. He tried calling her, but there was no answer. As he waited, he realized her avatar was moving toward the highway. He frantically tried to call her, but no one answered. Then, his phone rang.

"Where are you?" He shouted on the phone.

"Jerome."

"Listen Alicia, I don't have time right now."

"The woman, a man took her and her daughter is crying, and I don't know what to do."

"What are you talking about? Where are you?

"We are in my car."

"What woman are you talking about?"

"The one I found at your place."

"Are you at my place or are you in your car?"

"Can you please listen? I am chasing them."

"Chasing who?"

"Talking to you is so frustrating. Listen and shut up."

"I came to your place. I met the woman and child, but then as I was in the bathroom, a man came and took her by force. We are chasing them."

"One more question Alicia, who is we?"

"The child and me. She is a brat by the way. She took a chunk out of my shoulder. You'll pay for the emergency room when this is over, mister."

"Okay, but I want you to listen to me. I want you to turn your car around and I want you to go back to my place and wait for me."

"I don't think so. When I left there, I saw a bunch of cops driving in that direction. Sorry the phone is breaking up."

Jerome could not believe it. She had dared to hang up on him. She had better not disobey a direct order. That's what was wrong in today's society. Women's independence had gotten to their heads and they stopped listening to common sense.

Jerome took enough time to look at Josie's avatar. He placed it on maps to see where she was going. Darn! She was already in the highway, moving away from the city. She was about twenty minutes away from him. He began to sweat. He grabbed his papers from the desk and ran to his car. He blue-lighted his way to the highway.
I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion.

Hosea 2:19
Chapter 30

Special Agent Jones was not very good at working with people. Growing up had been difficult. His mother, a middle class woman who ended up hooked on drugs, was not the best provider for two little kids. It had been tough, but they had survived, and both of them were productive members of society.

He became a cop to make sure children did not have to go through what he went through. His other career option had been social work, but social workers did not have the power cops did.

When he saw a single mother, he tried to stay near until he was sure she was a good mother. If she was not, he would make sure to give them the message and warn them that they could lose their children. The problem was that they never listened and sometimes they even complained about him to his superiors.

Josie was different. He had heard her mother complaining about how willful she was. She had heard her mother complain about her past boyfriends. Oh, it hadn't really been a complaint, but he knew how to read in-between the lines. Josie had a history of bad boyfriends, even if right now she was single. He knew it was only a matter of time before she would choose her selfish behavior over her kid's safety. He had seen it too many times. It was his duty to protect the child and so he took a keen interest in Jerome's case.

He had moved from New York to Florida, working in pretty much every state in between. His number one goal had been to protect the kids and in many cases he had succeeded. With the complaints to his supervisor, there was one thing he did not like. He did not like to be reprimanded for good work, so he had quit and moved on. This time he would be very careful to cross every 't' and dot every 'i'. He liked working here. He loved how uninvolved his office was. There was a secretary that right now was missing in action; there were two female agents that spent more time at the gym than they did in the office, and the supervisor came in late enough to take his lunch break after checking his emails. He then proceeded to do who knows what for five hours and walked in the door just in time to bump into everybody leaving at the end of the workday at five. This office was perfect for him. The only problem he had was his partner. He hated him.

Parker was good at one thing. He was very good at judging him. If Parker had gone through what he had gone through, he would understand. Parker's mother was the total opposite of his own mother. Parker's mother, although single, had put her children first. She had never brought a man into the house, and she had never traded her kids for drugs. Jerome Parker couldn't understand his need to stay on top of this case in its entirety, and the fact that Parker was micromanaging his business while having so much trouble keeping up with a single woman and her daughter was infuriating.

Right now he needed to protect this child. She was a beautiful little girl who had been born in the wrong family. As he sat in front of Jerome's apartment, he was not surprised to see her leave. This young woman was a bad seed. She was of a type who could not help their selfish and irresponsible behavior at the destruction of their children through their actions.

He knew that she had left the child alone. He had seen Parker at the office, so he knew he was not here taking care of the child. There was something odd going on here though, some big burly man with huge biceps dragged Josie out of the house in a position that couldn't help but to hurt. He felt conflicted emotions, should he go upstairs to make sure the child did not get hurt, or should he follow the woman?
And he did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith.

Mattew 13:58

Chapter 31

Josie was terrified, her uncle had never acted like this before. In the past, he had been arrogant and sometimes bossy, but never cruel. Somehow, she knew that if she needed something, she could always count on him. She really needed to check her instincts, because right now he was acting crazy, and that was scaring her.

"Uncle Ken, I want to go back to my daughter."

"By now, the cops should be there. Your daughter is fine.

"But she's probably scared!"

"Sorry about that, but it was the only way."

"Only way for what?"

"Your daughter will become ward of the state, then your mother and I will get custody."

"I don't think so. They wouldn't take her away from me, I'm a good parent."

"What kind of parent leaves her young child behind while she goes out?"

"I didn't leave her. You took me."

"Look at your history. You are not a fit parent and I have enough witnesses to attest to that. Now look at mine, there is no one to say anything bad about me. My character is impeccable."

"Why are you being so cruel? You know I changed my ways after Vicky."

"People don't change one day to the next. How many times did the cops have to bring you home drunk?"

"That was a long time ago; besides, I was never charged with anything."

"I wonder how many times did you get high?"

"I never used drugs."

"Didn't you tell us that you had been on drugs and that was why you don't remember what happened the night Vicky was conceived."

"I told my mother that I had been drugged."

"Same difference."

"No it's not."

"I have some papers here. You have to sign them and everything will be as it should."

"What papers, what are you talking about?"

"The ones where you are giving your parental rights away."

"Uncle Ken, what are you trying to accomplish with all of this?"

"Simple. Your mother wants her family back and I have a way to get it for her."

"You don't know my mother at all. This is not how she does things."

"She'll see it my way soon enough."

"Well, I am not signing anything."

"We'll see. The cops should be calling me any time now."

"They won't. Vicky was never alone."

"What do you mean?"

"Simple, my friend was there." She would not let him know that she had never met Jerome's sister at all. It was time to act smart and not give away everything.

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter, but tell me, why are you doing this?"

"You are an idiot. All I want is for your mother to marry me."

"Do you really want a woman to marry you because she owes you?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. You'll do what you are told and everything will work out as it should."

Josie felt frustrated. He was not listening and she did not know what to do. She wanted to get home to her daughter and to Jerome, and then another thought occurred to her. Her mother had gone several times on weekend getaways. She left on Fridays and came back on Sundays. She called them her mental days. Her mother never said where she went and Josie never asked.

"Where is mom?"

"I have a hunting place. She is there."

"Is that where mom went when she needed to get away?"

"No."

"Where did she go?"

"Mostly to the beach. She would stay at a cheap hotel."

"Uncle, don't you think that she would have married you already if she loved you?"

"She will this time."

"She won't."

She did not understand why, but without any warning her uncle had lifted his hand and slapped her across the face. She had no idea what happened, as the pain did not register in her brain until a few seconds after the dizziness dissipated. She felt the sting on her lip. She licked it and the taste of blood registered before she could accept what had just happened. She touched the corner of her mouth where the sting was and then looked at her finger. She still could not believe it. Her uncle had hit her hard enough to bust her lip. Who was this man?

"She will marry me." He said.

Kenneth was tired of the childish behavior. Josie was a brat that had needed a spanking long before today. From now on he was going to do a lot more of that. He was going to assume the responsibility he should have assumed before, this was his family. He was going to make sure his family was together, and he was willing to do whatever was necessary to accomplish that. The girls might get upset, but that would only be temporary. Eventually they would thank him. After all, he owed Chase. Taking care of the girls was a duty not a choice.
How priceless is your unfailing love, O God! People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.

Psalm 36:7

Chapter 32

Jerome was doing ninety on the highway and praying he would make it there on time. Her avatar showed her being about thirty minutes away from him. He started to call Jones for back up, but as usual there was no answer. He tried one more time.

"Jones here."

"I need your help."

"Sorry, I'm on my way out of town right now."

"Where exactly are you going?"

"None of your business."

The phone went dead. Jerome did not know if Jones had hung up on him, or if it had disconnected, and was relieved when immediately afterwards his phone wrung again. Thinking that it was his temperamental partner, he decided not to give him a chance to say no.

"Jones I need you to go west on highway 10."

"I don't know who Jones is, but you and I need to talk young man."

"Mother?"

"I sure hope so, as I gave birth to you almost thirty years ago."

"Mom, I'm busy."

"You'll make time or I will go there and give you the beating you deserve."

"I am a little old for that, don't you think?"

"You are never too old to learn your manners."

"Mother, I'm going ninety on the highway. I need to hung up."

"No, you need to slow down."

"Mother!"

"Don't you dare mother me, and tell me who is that woman living with you."

"Nobody is living with me."

"Don't you lie to me."

"Mother I am not lying."

"Then your sister is lying."

"No mother, she is not lying either."

"Is there or isn't there a woman and a child living at your place?"

"Her name is Josie, and her daughter's name is Vicky."

"About time. When is the wedding?"

"Mother there is no wedding."

"You will not dishonor me by taking advantage of a woman."

"Mother, I'm not taking advantage of anyone."

"That's not how I see it, so listen carefully. No son of mine is going to be living in sin. I'm going to speak with the pastor."

"Mother you won't like her."

"Does she love you?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Do you love her?"

"Again...I don't know."

"Well you better figure it out before Pastor Carmelo calls you."

"Mother, she's white."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I thought it would bother you."

"Listen son, there is plenty of racism in this world, but there is a lot more love, compassion, and acceptance. For your sake, do not let the actions of a few make you live your life bitter and on guard."

"But mother..."

"But nothing. People are going to hurt you, not because they are white and you are black or vice versa, but because they are human."

"Mother, really?"

"Really. If she is a good woman, don't let her slip away."

"I've to go ma."

"Drive carefully."

Jerome looked at the speedometer and saw that he had slowed down considerably, and needed to speed up again to catch up. He looked at his phone and saw that her avatar had stopped. It would take him at least thirty minutes to get there.

He tried to think of who to call for back up, but could not think of anyone, as Tom was on leave and Gaston was further away than he was. He called Gaston. It was better to have him get there late than not to have any backup. At least if he got in a mess there would still be someone to help get him out of it, after all the killer couldn't be allowed to kill another person and he wasn't going to let anything happen to Josie.

Mercy, peace and love be yours in abundance.

Jude 1:2

Chapter 33

They had been driving for a while and Josie noticed that they were going away from the city. The two-lane highway was busy with few houses scattered here and there. She was able to see some horses and cows, and she was able to see cotton plants that normally would have made her wish for a big house with a big yard for Vicky to play in, but right now she was terrified. She had no idea where he was taking her. Would she be able to see her baby again?

The feeling of dread increased with every mile. Could her uncle be the killer? No! She could not believe it. This man had been part of their lives and had never acted violently toward anyone, at least until today; she reminded herself.

She kept looking out the window as she could not face him. Tears were rolling down her face and she could not help the feeling of helplessness. She tried to pray, but the fear had taken over and the only words she repeated over and over again were oh God, oh God. Then something caught her attention in the side mirror. That was Maria Esperanza's car. She would recognize it anywhere. Her pink Mini Cooper was one of a kind. No one else would dare add eye lashes to the headlights and Polka dots to the hood. Oh God, please don't let them get hurt. Then, as she kept looking at her friend, she saw another car almost as ridiculous pass them. This one was a green smart car covered in sunflowers. As Josie was mesmerized by the ridiculous cars, a maroon colored Lincoln with dark windows passed Maria's car. There was plenty of oncoming traffic, but as soon as it cleared, Maria moved to the opposite traffic lane and floored it, passing the Lincoln, but not being able to pass the smart car, and got back in her lane, between the two cars.

"Irresponsible kids. Coming in and out of traffic like that. They are going to cause an accident." Uncle Ken said.

Josie ignored his comment as she kept looking at the cars. It reminded her of an old black and white movie, except that this was not a set, but a real life highway, where real accidents happened. Maria's Mini Cooper and the Lincoln moved out into the oncoming traffic at the same time, thank God the Lincoln had moved back into its lane or there would have been an accident. Maria moved in front of the smart car.

She heard her uncle chuckle. She knew it was the car's paint job that had done it. She herself remembered how hard she had laughed when she had seen the car for the first time.

Her uncle sped up to about eighty-five miles per hour leaving the other cars behind. Josie did not know if it was because he was trying to get away from the crazy teenagers, or because he recognized one of the cars; after all, Maria had been parked right behind him.

She could not stop looking at the cars going in and out of traffic passing each other fighting for the chance to be first.

"How much further is this place of yours?" Josie asked.

"Not too far now."

Josie was really scared. She wasn't just scared for herself, but also for her mother and for her friends. Jerome might be the only hope all of them had. Please God help him find them on time.

"We are here, how do you like it?" Uncle Ken asked.

"You act like if I came here willingly."

"You did! I never had to put a gun to your head or anything."

"I guess pulling me by the hair and pushing me into the car does not count."

"Stop your sarcasm. Now let's go in and remember to agree with me with everything I say."

"Agree on what?"

"You are one of the dumbest people I know. All I want is to make your mother happy and you are making it difficult."

"Please explain to me what we have agreed on."

"You will tell your mother that you know you are not the best mother and that you are giving your parental a rights away."

"Am I giving these rights away to her or to you?"

"To me of course."

"Where are the papers?"

"Here. Might as well sign them now." He took the papers out of the envelope and straightened them on the hood of the car. He pulled a pen from his suit jacket and handed the pen to her.

She was planning on scribbling all over the paper to make sure he could not use it. She grabbed the pen and the paper. Just as she was about to scribble on the form, she heard him and it was as if he could read her mind. "If you do anything to these papers, I'll just falsify your signature. I have plenty of witnesses that would testify and then I won't allow you to see your daughter."

"I want to know what mom says first."

"Sign!"

Stand your ground, she told herself. She would not sign her parental rights away, not even to protect her life.

"No!"

Ken Smith could not believe his ears. This young woman was a brat and he was not going to put up with it any more. As she turned to walk into the cabin he grabbed her by the hair pulling her to him with one hand, and with the other he closed his hands into a fist and punched her across the face.

Josie opened her eyes slowly. She was seeing stars. For a second she thought that it was funny; then she felt the pain. Her face hurt like nothing else she had ever experienced and the pain increased exponentially with every second. Then through the corner of her eye she saw his fist come to her. She tried to move, but was not fast enough. She felt the pain to her gut, and then the pain to her lungs, as she could not take in air, and finally the pain to her hands and knees as she hit the ground when her knees buckled under her. Just as she had managed to take the first gulp of air, she felt a kick. She tried to roll into a fetal position to protect her body from the blows, but was having hard time lifting her body and moving her arms and legs. She knew she had to roll away before the next blow reached her, but she was getting dizzy. She felt his arms pulling her to her feet. Then everything went black.
4 But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, 5 he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit,

Titus 3:4-5
Chapter 34

"Tie her up."

"She's hurt," said Ivonne.

"Ivonne, let's have something clear. I've let you do this on your own and you have failed."

"You've let me do this on my own? Since when did you assume to have rights?"

That's when she saw it and froze. Inch by inch he lifted the gun and her bravado left her. Oh! She had made so many mistakes, but the biggest had been not to take charge. She had let this man have control of everything. Now her daughter and granddaughter were paying the price for her apathy.

Ken Smith approached, grabbed her by the chin, and moved her face so that she would be facing her daughter. "Look at her! She has more holes than a pin cushion."

"She's young."

"Really! Is that what you call it? She needs discipline. I don't even know how she got hired looking like that."

"Ken I don't know what has gotten into you, but this needs to stop."

Ken Smith heard it before he saw it. He moved to the window. A car, no, two cars, had just parked. Drat! The clown cars he had seen on the highway outside his cabin were on his driveway. What was he going to do now? He recognized Maria, the owner of the Mini Cooper. He had never liked her. Then he saw Vicky as she got out of the smart car. He did not recognize the tall black woman. They had been following him, and he had not paid attention, because he just wanted this part of his plan to be done and over with. He knew that everything would be okay, eventually, but right now he had to deal with this.

He looked at the woman he loved. She was angry and hurt now, but she would soon understand. They were meant to be together. He had fallen in love with her when Chase had introduced them. Now, he would stop at nothing until she was his.

"When is this going to stop, you asked me? It'll stop when you marry me. Now tie her up and if you are obedient, I will let you go console your granddaughter. She seems upset."

Ivonne, angry and confused, tied her daughter to the chair. She was completing the final knot when all of a sudden, Ken pulled the cabin door open and two young women fell to the floor.

Immediately, Ken pointed the gun at them and ordered them to sit and for Ivonne to tie them up. Neither one of them followed directions, as they started fighting with each other.

"This is your fault."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. I told you to tackle him."

"You really wanted me to run against a dude with a gun. I don't think so."

"SILENCE!" Shouted Ken.

They both stared at the man with the gun and moved to the back of the cabin. They both looked at each other, and realizing their predicament, shrunk from the man.

Jerome drove by the house first. Then he did a U turn and parked fifty yards away. He did not want to warn anyone of his presence. As he walked toward the cabin, he was surprised to see the kids all huddled together in the Mini Cooper. The windows were down and the car was parked under a tree, but it was still hot.

He was even more surprised when he opened the door and Vicky jumped into his arms. Her face was wet and red. He gently pulled her away from him and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. She immediately wrapped her arms and legs around him again. Then she whispered, "Mommy's hurt."

"Where is she?"

"In there."

He looked at where she was pointing and knew he had to move fast. He had difficulty dislodging himself from Vicky, but after some promises he was able to convince her everything would be okay.

"I will be right back."

"But..."

"But nothing. You need to let me go so I can help your mother."

"Okay, ..."

"No tears. We'll be right back."

Jerome peeked through a side window and got an idea on how to proceed. There was one gunman who was acting erratic. This man was not used to holding a gun. He had to be patient and wait for this man to get distracted. He saw Josie and his heart broke. Then he saw Ivonne tying his sister and Maria together and finally his eyes went back to the gunman.

Jerome called Gaston to see how far back he was. He wanted to know if he was going to have backup or not. Then he dialed 911. From his angle he could see that Josie was seriously hurt.

He moved to the door and turned the knob praying it would not make any noise. The door was unlocked and he pushed it opened no more than an inch. He wanted to wait for the right time.

Josie was in so much pain, but when she opened her eyes and saw her friend and Jerome's sister being tied up, she knew she had to do something. Where was Vicky? Jerome's sister was supposed to have her. Where in the world was Jerome?

She tried to move her hands. The rope was loose, but it was still painful to move. She knew that she must have a broken rib or two. She could barely take a breath. Every time her lungs expanded she felt agonizing pain. As she tried to move to dislodge herself the chair squeaked calling attention to herself.

Uncle Ken approached her and inspected the ties. He saw how loose they were, and approached Ivonne. Josie knew that they were in trouble. She had never seen this man looking like this. His eyes were unfeeling and his whole body was tensed. She had been a recipient of his anger a few minutes earlier and knew her mother was next. She had to do something, but what?

Jerome took advantage of the distraction. He ran in and jumped the guy from behind. He knocked the lawyer to the ground and in less than thirty seconds he had him in cuffs and had the area secured. Ivonne ran to her daughter, leaving the other two girls alone. Maria and Alicia wiggled their hands until they came free, and both young women kneeled in front of Josie. They saw the bruises and the blood. They wanted to help her lay down on the floor, but did not know where to touch her.

Jerome finished securing the place and moved to Josie. He sent his sister and Maria to take care of the kids, and gently pushed Ivonne to the side. He untied Josie and lowered her to the floor.

He barely paid attention to Gaston when he walked in and he did not move to help him when Gaston picked Smith up and took him to the patrol car. Jerome moved away from Josie only when the paramedics came in to put her in a gurney. When they loaded her into the ambulance, he jumped in as well. He was not going to leave her alone.

When Jones saw the ambulance leaving the tree-hidden plot and several cars following it, he paid attention. Could the killer be in there, was he finally caught? When would this charade be over? All the way from New York he'd been following these crimes ever since they had happened three consecutive weeks. When he tailed the vehicle out of New York he had gotten all the way down to South Carolina before losing him. The one thing going for him though was that he had seen the man right before he disappeared in an awful downpour. The killer had proven that his will to escape outmatched even a small level of sanity and now, maybe, just maybe he could actually sleep tonight knowing this mess was over. He would go to the police station and check on this "uncle" of Josie St. Claire.

Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity.

Joel 2:13

Chapter 35

Jerome stood by Josie's bed. He could not walk away. This woman had forced herself into his life and he did not know if he could ever live without her. He already adored Vicky and he would be honored to be her daddy. Both females had pushed and pushed until his defenses had collapsed and now he was having a hard time containing his excitement. He wanted her to wake up so he could tell her how much he loved her.

"Hi." Said Josie when she finally opened her eyes.

"Hi, yourself."

"What happened?"

"I think your uncle confused you for a punching bag."

"Uncle Ken? I was hoping the whole thing was a bad dream."

"Sorry hon. I know how much you loved him."

"I couldn't stand the man."

"You couldn't? You called him uncle and he was at your house a lot."

"I had no choice. My mother gave me an ultimatum. I either called him uncle and treated him like my best friend, or I could lose the freedom of going out with my friends."

"I see."

"Is he the killer?"

"We won't know that until the jury finds him guilty, but I think it's safe for you to go back to your normal life."

"Are you going to be part of that life?"

He smiled. Josie was the kind of person that went for what she wanted. He was so blessed that she wanted him. "I would like to get to know you and then see what happens."

Josie could not handle her excitement and wrapped her arms around him. It only lasted a second as the pain in her mid-section jolted her back into reality and very carefully she leaned back into her pillow.

"Sweetheart, the doctor has already released you and I need to take you home."

"Where is home?"

"Your mother is expecting you. We need to get Vicky, she's with Alicia."

"What about my place?"

"It would make me feel better if you and Vicky moved back in with your mother."

"Jerome, I don't know how wise that is."

"Sweetheart, I want to marry you. I want to go out on dates with Vicky and without Vicky. I want us to get to know each other."

"What does that have to do with my mother?"

"She can babysit."

"I guess it'll be okay."

"I love you, my sweet Josie."

"I love you, too."

Jerome helped Josie enter her mother's house, but as they reached the threshold, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He stopped and looked around, there was no one. The only thing he could see was parked cars.

"Are you okay? Asked Josie.

"Yes, why?"

"I don't know. You suddenly stopped and then you started looking all around. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, let's go in and have some lunch. Your mom said that she would have some tomato soup and grill cheese sandwiches waiting for us."

That night, a man creeped up to Ivonne's house and sat in the darkness behind a tree. He sat there dressed in his dark trenchcoat with a dark brown hat pulled down over his face. He reminded himself why he was there, no child should live with a neglectful parent. Under his breath he spoke as for nobody to hear him, "Josie, I'll be watching you, if you step out of line even once, I will punish you and it will feel good. I'll punish you for every year my mother punished me for her wrongs and I will punish you so your daughter is made safe. Don't slip up now or you're next. You have proven yourself for now, but I'll be back..." He slunk back along the bushes to where he parked his car and got in. "Now you get to pay for your crimes against your children, young Agatha, oh so selfish, so, so, dreadfully horrible. You left your child at your mother's so you could get drunk and high, I'm going to really enjoy this..."

***************
About the Author

When I started writing my first book Second Chances: The Power of Renewal I was a stay-at-home mom. This book started as a short story that kept increasing in size every time I edited it. Little by little I started to know my protagonist and my antagonist. The more I edited, the more I became part of their lives, and the more I started to imagine the lives of the other characters. I do not want to call them secondary characters, because I got to know them.

This last year I started a new facet of my life and as I faced new challenges, Jerome and Josie began to tell me their story. Their story became a struggle, and in order to put their story into words, I depended on friends and research. Through much prayer I was able to put it together, but it is far from finished as Alicia and Maria have started showing up and their stories will soon be put into words.

Please let me know what you think.

You can

Email me at

gabrielalouis@booksforthehungry.com

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Preview of Second Chances: The Power of Renewal

Prologue

Although Rosalyn was in her A.P. literature class, she was daydreaming about the very hot football player who had spoken to her. She had fallen in love immediately. John was such a good looking man that when he asked her out, she thought that surely every girl in the school would be jealous. She sighed, smiled, and continued to dream.

"Rosalyn... Rosalyn Miller" Rosalyn heard the teacher call. "I do not know where you are, but you are definitely not here. I need you paying attention."

"Yes ma'am, I am sorry," replied Rosalyn, embarrassed at being chastised.

Rosalyn had just turned 15 and had never thought of herself as a beauty queen but knew herself to be attractive. It did not concern her because what she did not have in looks she had in brains. She was president of the math and engineering club and had won several competitions. She was also taking several AP classes and she was just a freshman. She was the only freshman to accomplish that. Her parents had to ask for special permission for her to take the advanced placement classes, and after several tests it had been granted. She was planning on being a chemist, wanting to use her talents to find cures for the different types of cancers. She had dreams and those dreams were big.

Now though, her dreams had taken a back seat to John White, the hottest guy in the school. He had asked her out and she was so excited. She already loved this boy so much. She had spent every lunch period staring at him. He was so very hot and perfect in every way. She was thankful that he was tall, but not overly so. She could just imagine her five- two stature next to a seven-foot guy. It would be like a Chihuahua with a Great Dane. John was probably less than six feet tall, an absolutely perfect match for her. He also had the most wonderful brown eyes, and looking at them was like looking at a fondue chocolate fountain. He wasn't built huge like most of the football players, mounds of meat that were all muscle and no brains. She disliked those guys who thought that every girl would fall at their feet just because they were bigger than Mount Everest. Her future

husband was going to have more brains than muscles. That had to be a prerequisite for whomever she dated.

John had a checkmark on every item on her list, and she would do anything for him. He was everything any girl could want her first boyfriend to be; he was just perfect, and to top it all, he was the team quarterback.

Everything was going to be great tonight. They were going to hold hands as they walked to the park, He was going to kiss her - her very first kiss, and it was going to be every one of her dreams coming to life. She could not wait.

****** *  
In her room later that day, she was so frustrated. She could not find anything to wear.

She was short and fat, and she did not have any girly clothes like the other girls at school had. She saw herself in the mirror and saw the plainest looking brunette girl ever to exist, looking back at her. Why was this good looking guy paying attention to her? She was not going to question it. She was so excited. She saw herself now; there was nothing to notice. She was a little over five feet with short legs. Her butt and breasts were too big compared to all of those petit cheerleaders. Her hair was overly curly and brown, not even a deep brown, but a light brown at that. When God was passing out parts, He must have given her the leftovers, but this boy - this man - had paid attention to her. Maybe he saw something special she could not see.

She had never felt comfortable lying to her parents, but John had asked her not to tell anyone they were going out. She could not understand. Is that how it was for all the other girls? She regretted all those hours with her nose in the books and not paying attention to her surroundings. John had asked her to wear a dress or skirt, something girly he had said. The only dresses she had were church dresses, and they were not girly. She settled for her prettiest dress, pink with small white flowers. It had a high neckline, and it reached right below the knees. She also donned her walking shoes and a white cardigan. She went to her mom's bathroom and used some of her makeup. She did not want to look like a clown but hoped to accentuate her eyes with a little eyeliner. She also used some blush and lip-gloss for good measure.

She told her parents that she was going to her best friend's house and walked out. They did not even look up. Her dad was reading a newspaper and her mom a book.

Rosalyn knew that her parents cared for her greatly, and they trusted her implicitly. When she walked out, they did not question her about her plans. She felt the guilt begin to rise because she had never lied or hidden anything from them before, but she wanted badly to be with John.

****** *  
Rosalyn had forgotten how fast it got dark in the fall. When she had walked out, everything looked beautiful and bright. As she got closer to the park, the pretty pink skies had turned into darkness. She wished now that they had chosen a different place, but this

was actually the halfway point and she was early. She would just sit on one of the park benches and wait. Everything would be just perfect.

Behind her in the playground were a group of boys ranging in ages from fourteen to about twenty-one. They were the ruffians of the neighborhood. It was a good neighborhood, but they had decided to run their business from the park. There were no cops here and the park was deserted on weeknights. Unfortunately for Rosalyn, they had noticed her. A pretty prim girl, sitting all alone in the dark was a gift, and it was rude to decline a gift.

****** *  
Nine months later a child had been born. At the hospital they had done all the

necessary things to make sure that there were no repercussions from that night, but it had not worked, and she had not noticed her periods missing. Her mother and father had not known what to say to her or how to deal with the situation either. The subject became the white elephant in the room everyone avoided. When they had found out she was pregnant, it had been too late for a termination of the pregnancy. It would have been too dangerous, not that her parents would have felt comfortable with that. She knew that they would have supported any decision she made, but she knew her parents respected life. The life of an unborn child was still a life, regardless of the conception circumstances.

Her mom had tried to get pregnant for so many years unsuccessfully, and then all these other women got pregnant so easily, and discarded their babies. The unfairness of the situation had caused her mother many tears. Every time her mother had gone to an abortion clinic to rally for the right of life, she had come back home torn and broken. She had wanted a child so desperately.

She had finally gotten pregnant when she was 40, and they adored their daughter, even this imperfect daughter. Rosalyn could not help it. She cried at how she had disappointed them.

*****

Chapter 1

Boris Brockovich was a man in his late 50s. He was a fit and good-looking man and was a very successful businessman. He was respected and loved, not only by his employees but also by those people of influence in the community. Boris was a charismatic man who always knew what to say in the midst of chaos. He was a big supporter of the armed forces and took the time to remember individual agents and their families. He also supported schools and children's programs in general.

He owned a successful import/export company, —Global International Import Export Trade. He wasn't always successful though— at one point during the recession, he almost had to close his doors for good. Those events had influenced Boris to make drastic changes to how he ran his business.

Boris loved life, but life wasn't worth living without money. Money made things possible. Money bought power, comfort, and women. So if there was one thing you could say about Boris, it was that he would do anything for money.

When the recession happened and his carefully made plans for the future were endangered, he figured that there were things he could do to save his company. Those things might not be legal, but that was irrelevant. It would not be the first time that he lived on the other side of the law. In his opinion, one could do anything as long as one did not get caught. He was not planning on getting caught.

His plan was finalized at a bar when he and two of his friends, Kruno Ivanovo and Davor Petrov, had been drinking their customary vodka. Boris, who had been quite intoxicated, remembered asking, "Gentlemen, how are your businesses doing? Kruno, I know that you are not doing so well in the housing market right now, and Davor, you cannot be doing any better with the banking industry. I cannot be the only one hurting."

Both Kruno and Davor had nodded emphatically, but Kruno had spoken first, "I

know you Boris, what do you have in mind?" Davor and Kruno had been friends since they were in grade school in Russia and they had become closer than brothers with every conflict they had to survive. Later they had added Boris to their group, but the relationship was not the same. Kruno and Davor were there for each other and as long as Boris served his purpose he was accepted. Boris was a source of amusement for them, and most importantly, he was also the one to get his hands dirty.

"Nothing that is too illegal." He chuckled, and then continued, "We bring people to work here, and we get them jobs, but a percentage of their salaries come to us. We buy a house and we rent it to them. We charge them for rent, food, etc. and we let them keep some of the money for necessities and some to send back to their families. Whatever we give them will be better than what they will get over in their country. They are happy. We are happy. They will pay for their passports, tickets and visa, and then pay us for bringing them and giving them a job. It could be quite lucrative if we have enough people."

So the idea had come to life, and the three friends decided to use their companies to bring immigrants to the States to work. It was actually brilliant, because people in other countries would be selling their souls for the opportunity to come to the States, and once here, they would never know they were being cheated. Boris had seen it as helping them and making their dreams come true, while he was getting paid for his services. He had not realized then, how ambitious his friends were and how out of control his idea was going to get.

Boris thought that his plan would work to perfection, except that it had been a great idea until his friends and partners got greedy and they had come up with a twist to his plan. Davor and Kruno had come to his office and Davor had said, "We like your idea, but it is not profitable enough. I believe that if we bring girls and rent them out, we will make more money." Boris was shaking his head as he was hearing them. "That won't work. One girl gets hurt and we are in deep trouble. Anyhow, how are you going to control it?" Boris knew that, as long as they benefitted from their actions, it did not matter who got hurt.

"Simple," answered Davor, "we bring them here to work as Au Pairs with a J1 visa, but once here they'll be totally dependent on us."

Boris had gotten up and walked to the door. He opened it and replied, "I do not think

so; I am fond of my freedom. I'm out." Kruno and Davor had walked up to him and without any hesitation; Kruno punched him in the gut while Davor closed the door. Boris fell to his knees on the floor as he tried to catch his breath. Then Davor came behind him and pulled his hair, pulling his head back, forcing him to look at Kruno who said, "you are in, and you will do as we say, or else." As he said that he punched him one more time for effect. Boris nodded.

"One more thing," said Davor as he approached the door. "You try to cross us, and you will be praying for death to come."

He knew karma; he had seen it many times. The bad you did in the world had a way of getting back to you. And his hell had just begun. Once one dealt with the devil, one was enslaved to him. He had known his partners for a while, and knew that if he refused, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

It had been several years since he became part of this business. He did not remember how to be honorable and moral anymore. He had built an empire, a very successful empire at a very high cost: his soul.

Chapter 2

Rosalyn loved college life. As soon as she had graduated from high school, she had gone away to college. She had chosen a school that was about eight hours away from home; close enough that she could drive back and forth when needed, but far enough away that she could not do so very often. She knew she was going to miss home. She had never been away until now, but living at home had been difficult. For the last three years of high school she had felt like a stranger in her parent's home, and she had needed to move out, to get away from the people she loved. It had become a matter of survival.

Since that fateful night, her parents had become controlling and demanding. She had gone from having all the freedoms in the world to having to ask permission for every little thing. Not only that, but if she did not call or check in several times a day, they drove to wherever her activities were to make sure she was okay. She had become involved in every extra curricular activity her schedule allowed her to participate in just so that she could stay away from home, but it did not matter, she had to call them from each one of those activities. She had to make one call apprising them of where she was and then one call letting them know she was done and on her way home. In her opinion, she needed breathing space. Her parents had become micromanagers of her time and life and a constant reminder of the worst night of her life.

On the other hand, at home they barely spoke to her. They whispered and plotted among themselves. Her parents had insisted she spent time with her daughter, so Rosalyn was not surprised every time she found herself taking care of Mariah, her sweet daughter. Her parents had not understood that she needed space. Although Mariah was a great kid, Rosalyn wasn't a great example for her and Mariah was a reminder of that fact. Rosalyn understood that the events of that awful night were her fault, but she wondered if she would ever be forgiven.

Her need to be away from home had become necessary for her sanity. While in high school, she had been busy with her normal school load. When that had not been enough, she had become part of every extracurricular activity that fit into her schedule. Her college life was no different. Rosalyn had managed to stay busy, working and studying.

As a student she took a minimum of fifteen credit hours, and then she managed to work a minimum of 30 hours a week. She did not need the money as she had been awarded several scholarships. The busier she was, the less time she had to deal with her memories. She did not like remembering that night. She had created for herself a fantasy world where everything was all right. She was just a normal busy girl who did not have time for the social demands most other young people were part of. She understood academics, and she had made school her shelter.

In her junior year of college, her roommate had been persistent, to the point of obsession about them going out. Alana had decided that a social life was a must. Rosalyn did not know what to do with her happy extroverted friend. She had been tempted to request that she be moved to a different dorm, but was too afraid to ask and was apprehensive about who the new roommate might be.

Her roommate Alana was everything Rosalyn wasn't. Both girls were as opposite as oil and water in every way possible. Alana was tall, Rosalyn short. Although Rosalyn was not overweight, Alana was overly thin. Not because she did not eat, but because she was extremely hyper. She burned every calorie she consumed just by having a conversation. Rosalyn would look at Alana in amazement as she went from one activity to the next in the blink of an eye. Keeping up with conversations was difficult because Alana had three or four conversations running at once. One minute she was talking about one of her classes, then she started talking about something she had watched on TV, and all of the sudden she was back in the conversation about her class, which would lead to something she remembered about the last guy she had dated, and then she was back to conversation one or two. Rosalyn had decided that when Alana spoke, she would nod and agree with whatever she was saying, but would not try to keep up. Every time she tried, she ended up with a migraine.

Alana also took as few classes as she could get away with and avoided work as one might avoid the flu. Alana's main concern was how to look good and what guy she was

going to go out with. She chose not to have a boyfriend, as that would cramp her style; Alana's main goal in life was to have fun and she wanted Rosalyn to party with her.

Alana wasn't a girl with loose morals; on the other hand, she was very conservative. She just liked to have fun, flirt, and dance. Her clothing was conservative but also feminine. She wore very light makeup serving only to accentuate her already pretty features. No one could ever say anything wrong about Alana because she was a beautiful person inside and out. The guys she dated wanted more, but not Alana. One of the reasons she refused to get involved with any guy was because they expected more than she was willing to give. All Alana wanted was good clean fun.

Rosalyn was so thankful that her schedule did not permit her to go to parties. She did not have the time or the inclination to have a social life. Her life did not include boys or friends of any kind other than an occasional conversation with Alana; Rosalyn was too busy for that nonsense. Socialization was not something she felt comfortable with. Unfortunately for her, her roommate did not take no for an answer.

"I am going out with this hot guy today, I can arrange for his roommate to go out with you. We can go on a double date."

Rosalyn sighed; this invitation was a weekly occurrence. "I am sorry, but I work today. After work I have to complete a research paper due Monday."

"Come on, Rosalyn! Every weekend you have a research paper, or an essay or a test. You keep putting one excuse after another... Really!? I think you do not want to go out with me."

Really, what gave you that impression? Rosalyn thought, but instead said, "I am sorry I am busy," and ignoring her friend, she continued to get dressed for work. Her uniform consisted of blue jeans, a red t-shirt with the restaurant's logo on it, and black tennis shoes. Of course she also needed a small apron to put her tips in.

Rosalyn loved her after-school job. She waited tables at the school cafe and her job made her feel safe somehow. She felt free to talk to people and flirt a little there. It was a required part of the job. At her job she had met many people including Sean. She had found out that Sean was a classmate in one of her psychology classes. He was the kind of guy every girl dreamed about, —tall and handsome, with the most gorgeous green eyes

and a great sense of humor. He was the kind of guy every mother wanted for her daughter —he was polite, responsible and knew how to dress, in other words, he was a nice guy. Sean had seen Rosalyn around campus and she had been in a couple of his general

education classes. She seemed to be the kind of girl he would like to get to know better. She always acted serious, she dressed conservative, and from what he could tell, she was very responsible.

He had asked his roommate's girlfriend, Alana, to introduce them, unfortunately Rosalyn had refused. It was going to be up to him to meet her. He decided on a strategic plan of action. He was going to get to know Rosalyn. It was going to be a challenge. Sean loved challenges.

Sean had asked her out until she had finally agreed. She had tried everything to push him away but he had been relentless and persisted on befriending her. He had been at the cafe every day while she worked. He sat there and studied. Their interaction had started in a polite and friendly way, very professional.

"Hi Rosalyn, how are you doing today? May I please have a latte?"

Since it seemed so innocent and no different from the other customers, she had responded to his banter and mildly flirted with him. Their relationship had progressed from business to friendship without her realizing it.

One day after work, when he was going her way, he had walked her to her place. Since that day, he had walked with her every evening at the end of her shift. She had not noticed that he was breaking her so carefully built walls. Finally, on her day off when he had shown up at her dorm with a picnic basket, she had agreed to go out with him.

He had taken her to the local State park; it had been so very nice. They spent the day talking and getting to know each other. Their picnic contained fried chicken, dinner rolls, and cheese with sparkling grape juice to drink. For dessert their picnic had also included a scrumptious slice of chocolate cake. Sean fed her a bite and then took a bite for himself until the slice was finished. It felt so very intimate to her.

After their picnic they had gone for a walk around the park. As they walked, he held her hand or placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to wherever he had seen a pretty flower or a wild animal. She felt cherished and beautiful that day with him.

When she spoke, he paid attention to every word she said. As they talked, she noticed him rubbing her arms, or touching her hands. The touches were so very innocent and the more he touched her, the more relaxed she became, until very gently and slowly he had started to bend his face drawing near to her own, and she had panicked and pushed him away.

Although Rosalyn felt scared when he had tried to kiss her, it had also felt exhilarating. She admitted that he had been so very kind and respectful to her. She could not deny that she had loved going out with him. She had felt pretty while she had been with him.

Sean did not understand her attitude. One minute she acted as if she would welcome his attention, and the other she pushed him away. Was she a flirt, playing hard to get, or was she truly old fashioned? He liked her enough; he was not giving up until he figured it out. He accepted the fact that he was in no hurry and there was plenty of time to have her relax around him. Her personality was so skittish, like a recently adopted kitten in its new home. For this reason, he understood that he had to be patient. She was the type of girl he could think of as permanent. He loved to talk with her. She had a great sense of humor and her laughter was contagious. He loved touching her hands; they were so very soft. He definitely wanted to explore the possibilities of more, so much more with this girl. She intrigued him.

Alana and Sean, how had that happened? Wondered Rosalyn. These two did not allow her to hide in her private world. These two made her smile and she truly enjoy spending time with them.

"Hey, what homework are you working on?"

Rosalyn was distracted, so when Alana asked her that question, she had no time to think of excuses and answered truthfully, "I just finished."

Rosalyn had not even realized the importance of her answer until Alana had screeched, done a little victory dance, and said, "We are going out today. You, Sean, Luke and I." Rosalyn had felt trapped, but agreed to go.

They went to the movies, then to eat and finally they made it to a fraternity party.

They had such a great time together, that after that one outing Rosalyn felt that her safety walls had crumbled. She felt happy where she had not felt happy in so many years. Her feeling of contentment had also transferred to her relationship with Sean. She realized that she was relaxed in his presence, instead of tense and in constant guard. She felt that she could actually fall in love with him. This was something she had not allowed herself to consider until now. She looked forward to seeing him and hoped that he could break all the barriers she had so carefully built around herself. Unfortunately in the quiet of the night, once she was alone in her room, she felt the voice in the back of her conscious rise up, loud and clear, and reminded her that happiness was not for her. Would she ever be normal? Could she be happy?

With him, every day was a day she had felt freer than the day before. With his love and attention she had felt treasured. Everything had been working wonderfully, until he had invited her to church. It had all started so innocently. They enjoyed spending time together doing their homework, or watching a movie.

This particular day Alana, Sean, and Rosalyn were sitting at their small table talking as Rosalyn was searching for an article in the paper. She needed something to help support her point of view on her research paper and as she skimmed through the paper, she said,

"Every article I read on illegal operations brings me back to modern day slavery? Who would have thought that would continued into this century?" said Rosalyn, distracted as she was skimming through the paper.

"Hmmm..." Was Sean's reply, as he was trying to figure out this beautiful girl. He wanted to move their relationship to the next level, but she was always so skittish.

"Sean are you ok? You are acting distant today. By the way, I am off on Sunday. It has been forever and a day since I had a Sunday off. Would you like to go to the beach? Alana what about you? I think it would be fun." Rosalyn felt exuberant, and her constant chatter was a reflection of her old happy self, escalating to the surface.

"Sorry, I'm busy on Sundays," said Alana looking at Sean.

Sean was quiet, which made Rosalyn nervous. This was so unlike him. So she continued, trying to fill the silence. "I know it is kind of far, and the weather is not hot, but perhaps we can have a picnic there."

Rosalyn was trying to figure out how to push her demons away, and she figure she needed to go back to her life as it had been. In North Carolina, she lived in a small town by the beach, and she had loved spending hours there. She wanted to see the water again and maybe go swimming. She had moved away from everything that represented her old life, and she felt that this was one step closer to healing.

She really liked Sean and was hoping to change the direction in which her life was going. She had even made an appointment with a therapist. She needed to start living her life. "Sean, come on, say something. I am off Sunday. Did you hear me? Would you like to drive to the beach with me? I know it's not officially summer yet, but I think it'll be fun."

Sean smiled at her. He was holding her hand, rubbing his thumb over her palm, so very gently, "Sure, but we cannot go until about noon."

"Oh, I was hoping to spend the whole day there. Come on, what is so important we cannot go earlier?"

Sean had been thinking of a way to move their relationship forward. He wanted so much more than friendship. Was she the right girl? He now realized that something was terribly wrong. He was starting to figure out something he did not want to see. Alana had tried to warn him, and now this conversation was taking him in a direction he did not want to go. The next day was Sunday, and church was part of it, not because he had to attend, but because he wanted to. Something did not make sense. He just couldn't figure out what. Every time that he had tried to bring up his faith in the conversation, something had happened and the conversation had gone in a different direction. He had not given it much thought, but somehow he assumed they shared similar beliefs. He should have known better.

"Rosalyn, I would love for you to go to church with me tomorrow. I teach Sunday school to high school boys, and you would love my pastor. He has a way of teaching the Word. He honors Jesus as he makes you think of ways you can become a better person, without feeling that you are going straight to hell."

He was telling her this with apprehension. Every once in a while he would glance at Alana for support, but finding none he waited for Rosalyn's response. He really liked Rosalyn and was not ready to call it quits. He noticed her pull her hand away from him,

she looked away from him and he was astounded when she stood up and walked to the door, opened it and looked at him. She only said one word, "out."

"Rosalyn?"  
"Out"  
Sean had gotten up, and felt that he had been sucker punched in the stomach. He

could not figure out the level of her anger, and how did inviting her to church have earned him that type of dismissal. She had kicked him out, without an explanation.

On the way to his car he was reflecting on the events, trying to figure out what had just happened. Why was she so sensitive about church? Most people would decline the invitation, but to show him the door. I actually thought we might have a future together. He liked Rosalyn, and now he needed to walk away, even though his instincts were to run right back to her. He looked at the heavens; You are the only one who can sort this out.

Alana realized that her mouth had dropped open. "What was that about Rosalyn?"

Rosalyn had looked at her friend, and ran to her room. She buried her face in her pillow and begun to sob.

Alana had felt glued to the floor. What did she miss? She sighed; her friend needed her right now. She walked to Rosalyn's room, and sat next to her on the bed. "I do not know what just happened, but I want you to know that I am here if you need to talk."

Rosalyn cried harder, and Alana, true to her word, sat next to her, while caressing her friend's hair. She begun praying silently, other than that she was silent. She did not know what else to do for her friend.

Rosalyn knew she had overreacted, but she could not help it. 'God,' she was definitely not ready for. He had abandoned her when she was 15 and now she wanted nothing to do with Him. She was doing fine on her own. She felt awful. She wanted to fix it, but did not know how. She could still see the confused and hurt look of Sean's eyes as he walked out the door. She had suspected that his faith and his God were the most important constants of his life.

If he was anything like she had been before that awful day, he probably felt that without God he was nothing. She knew she blamed God for the events of that night. As a child, she had been involved in every activity at church. She had been saved and baptized

when she had been fourteen, but then a year later, He turned His back on her. Sean was not to be blamed though, but she had still thrown him out. Why was she surprised that he had invited her to church? She had grown up in church. She knew that believers invited people to church. She broke into tears. Those tears became uncontrollable sobs that did not cease until she fell into an exhausted sleep.

He had tried contacting her a couple of times afterwards, but she had refused to see him. She could not understand how they could have been friends for about six months and God had never been part of the equation. She knew that was a lie, everything Sean did, every class he took, the way he spoke, the way he lead his life, all were clues that he was a strong Christian. She just didn't want to see it, until now.

With her busy schedule she had always managed to work most evenings and on Sundays. She never had to admit to him that she avoided church. Every time he had begun to speak about his faith, she had managed to change the subject. She should have realized that avoiding subjects of faith and religion was not conducive to a healthy relationship. She had hurt Sean and she really did not want to hurt anyone anymore. She had done enough of that to last her a lifetime. She had hurt her parents, then Mariah, and now this wonderful young man. He had always made her feel special, and she repaid him by kicking him out.

Sean somehow had not given up on her. Since she had refused to speak with him, he had settled for written messages. In a weekly basis, for the rest of the term he had sent her little notes telling her how much she was loved. She felt that she could not hide from him. The notes had come in the mail, or accidentally dropped on her desk, she had even found notes written on napkins at the cafe she worked at. The notes said things like, "you are loved," "Jesus loves you," "I am a good listener," "I am your friend," "call me, we can discuss this." She never called him, and it had been so hard because she continued to see Sean everywhere. It was hard not to, when you lived at the college and took classes together.

All through that term he had done little things to show her she was special, but she had been too afraid to let him in, so she continued to avoid him. Everyday after class or after receiving one of his notes, she went to her room and cried until there were no tears left. Sometimes during her bouts of hysteria she would scream at God, if you are there

why didn't you protect me? Were you trying to punish me? That would make her cry even more and she would step deeper into her impenetrable cocoon. Her depression was a chasm that soon she would not be able to climb out from.

The following term Sean was gone, just like that, no good bye, no anything. What else did you expect? Didn't you push him away?

She missed Sean so much she had gone out to see a therapist, but once he had started asking questions, she had shut down and walked away. Is this the life she wanted? This way her heart was safe and those around her were safe, she told herself, but was it worth living away from her parents and everyone else, not letting anyone in? She felt lonelier than ever. Blast it, Sean, if you had not come into my life, I would not have remembered what it felt like to be part of something; I miss being part of my family. I miss hanging out with friends. You were so good to me and I pushed you away. She burst into tears.

Rosalyn was so lonely that she considered moving back home, she missed her parents and she missed Mariah, but then again she did not know how to be a good mother to this beautiful child. She did not want to ever blame Mariah for things she was innocent of. No matter how much she missed her family she had to stay away to protect her baby. She was poisoned and she knew it. Everyone she touched she hurt.

She wished Sean were with her. He had been a great friend, and had always made her smile. She missed him so much she regretted her actions. After that term when Sean had asked her to go to church with him, she had not seen him anymore. She had heard that he moved on to seminary school. Funny they had been friends for about six months and she never knew that he wanted to be a pastor. Something else to help her realize how selfish she was. He had been so good to her, and she had pushed him away, and she had stayed behind lonelier than ever.

Alana, who was dating Sean's roommate, saw fit to apprise her of every one of his decisions. Rosalyn had never felt so lonely.

Chapter 3

Rosalyn's childhood dreams had changed that fateful day. Not only the dream of one day becoming a wife and mother, but also her dream of becoming a chemist and researcher. She had wanted to use her talents in medicine and find cures for different diseases. Instead, because she did not want any reminders of her prior life or perhaps because she felt a need to punish herself, she had chosen to be part of the business world.

She had tried to make more drastic changes, but her parents did not allow her to withdraw from them completely. They loved her so much; they could not accept her need to stay away. They did not understand that she was trying to protect them. She had seen the pain in their eyes, and she had been the cause.

Rosalyn had decided to stay at her dorm her first Christmas away from home. She knew that it was going to be tough for her, but she believed that it would have been better in the long run. It had not worked out quite as she had planned it, though. She had called her parents letting them know that she was so busy she could not come, so instead of her going, the very next day, they had shown up at her dorm. They had rented a large suite and brought all the Christmas' presents with them. It had been chaotic. At first, she had been put off by their presumptuous behavior. She did not want to have any good feelings softening her carefully built protective barrier. She could not help it; their act of love and kindness had melted her heart a bit. Only parents loved unconditionally and she knew that her parents were the best and deserved the best. Unfortunately, she wasn't the best.

Rosalyn did not understand that undeserved love her parents felt for her. She had failed them, but they were there loving her and supporting her. Then Sean had come along, and as expected she had hurt him as well. She did not understand her own actions. She knew she was being irrational but she could not help it; she knew she could not run forever. Eventually she was going to have to face her demons. The question was how?

She continued to live her life away from friends, away from family, away from

relationships, afraid of getting close to anyone. She had even managed to avoid Alana who continued to pester her. She loved Alana; didn't she understand that she was protecting her? She so wanted to love and be loved, but was afraid of the pain she could cause the people who loved her. She was afraid of the pain she caused herself every time she tried. She had made her parents extremely sad with her sin. At the hospital, she had seen in their eyes how deeply she had disappointed them.

They had tried to be supportive. They had said the right words, but Rosalyn knew them and purity was so important to them. How many times had they told her that her purity was a gift for her husband alone? Her parents were so conservative, that every time they referred to her virginity, they used the word "it." "It" was the greatest gift to her partner and should only be given in marriage.

They were so ashamed of her, that during her pregnancy they did not even want her opening the front door. The one time she did, she was scolded. She knew they did not want the neighbors seeing her protruding stomach.

Rosalyn continued her monotonous life —school, work, visit family at Christmas. Change she did not think she was emotionally ready for was coming soon, — graduation was near. It was time to grow up. This was her last term and she could not hide in her books anymore and going back home was out of the question. She needed a job. To get a job she had let people know who she was. She had to complete an application and she had to go on interviews. She had tried to be invisible, but invisible would not give her a job.

"What are you doing after graduation?" Came the unexpected question from her roommate. She had been avoiding Alana, but she seemed relentless.

Rosalyn sighed, "I do not know."

"I know you like to live in your private world, and you probably don't like me, but I like you. If you need a roommate let me know."

"It's not that I don't like you, it's just..."

"Save it! I don't want to hear it." Said Alana as she walked out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

***********

Rosalyn had gone back and forth with the idea of having Alana as her roommate. She liked her, and that was reason enough to keep her away. She was tired of causing pain on those around her. She just felt so lonely all the time, that having Alana around was enough to put a smile on her soul.

Rosalyn just needed to set some boundaries and everything would work out just right.

"Alana, if we are going to move together we need to discuss rules."

Alana sighed and flop on the sofa across from where Rosalyn was standing, "Okay, spill it."

"No more inviting me out. Just let me be. I know I have issues, so just let me be." Alana smile, "What kind of issues?"  
"Alana you are doing it again, my issues are not the problem here. Can you just let

me be?" Rosalyn was losing her cool. Alana always managed to aggravate her, but she was so tired of feeling lonely.

"Rosalyn, I am a psych major. I can try to let you be in your own world, I just don't know how successful I am going to be. I'll tell you what, I promise that I will try on one condition."

Rosalyn gave her a speculative look, "What condition?"

"That you remember 'I am your friend,' even when you do not see it like that. I love you and I am here for you. I don't know what has you hiding, but sometimes its good to let it go and trust someone. You are holding so tight to your pain; I feel you are going to break at any moment. When you are ready to talk, I'll be a room away."

So it had come to be that, they were moving together.

After graduation the two girls had moved together. Rosalyn, who was the one with all the requirements, took it upon herself to find the place, and this apartment in the downtown area suited her just right. They did not need much: a stove, refrigerator, microwave and dishwashers this one even had a washer and dryer in one of the closets. It was almost perfect. What this place needed was security. Neither girl minded the fact that it was small, or that it hadn't been updated since it was built thirty years earlier, but for Rosalyn the security of the modern places was a must. Moving was going to take

adjustment and she did not want the nightmares back. She had not cared for anything fancy; she only needed the apartment to sleep in after all.

She had looked at several places, until finally she found what she needed. The managers did not care if she installed alarms or extra lighting, as long as she covered the cost. They would not pay for anything extra. So Rosalyn took it upon herself to upgrade as much as her budget allowed.

Alana was a carefree person who cared greatly for others. She had chosen to become a psychologist because she loved to figure out what made people tick. She had lived with Rosalyn for two years and she still did not know much about her. She wondered how heavy was the load that Rosalyn carried. Rosalyn had spent a small fortune on a security system. Granted the apartment was perfect for the two of them, but a security system? In Alana's opinion that was overdoing it.

The apartment was a furnished two bedroom, one bathroom. It had a small kitchen and living area that merged with each other. This place was as small as their dorm, which gave Rosalyn comfort. The walls were plain and white, with a couple of abstract pictures on the wall to give it some color, nothing fancy. In the living room area was a plain brown sofa and a small table with two chairs, a perfect place to eat a light breakfast. The kitchen had a small microwave, a stove, dishwasher and refrigerator. The bedrooms were decorated the same, a twin size bed, a dresser, a desk and a chair.

As soon as they had moved in, Alana had proceeded to fill the place with family pictures and knick-knacks to make it feel cozier. Rosalyn on the other hand, had added nothing to personalize their place.

Alana continued to go to school, and Rosalyn got a job as a receptionist. Life was good for the two friends.

Chapter 4

Myrna and Sonia were so excited to reach their life-long dreams. They had wanted to come to the States since they were young children. Her parents along with everyone in their small community had told them how awesome everything was in this beautiful country. They had worked hard to save every penny possible to be able to afford this trip. Now their dreams had finally come true. They were here. They were going to work taking care of children and go to school all at the same time. The program allowed them a stipend and six credit hours at the university, plus a day off a week in exchange of taking care of the children for ten hours a day. It was going to be so much fun.

Myrna and Sonia did not come from a poor family, but neither did they come from a wealthy family. They had never gone hungry, or gone without any necessities. The problem was their culture. It did not encourage females to go to school. On the other hand, it was highly discouraged.

One of Myrna's dreams was to become a teacher, but in her country she would never have the chance. Education was way too expensive and women were not awarded scholarships. The scholarships were saved for the men, but not many of them wanted to become teachers. The men usually studied business, architecture, science, and other things other than education. In her opinion the system was not fair.

Myrna was tall and slim. She had just turned 18 the prior week. She had gorgeous brown eyes and luscious long curvy hair. She knew she was beautiful. She was not conceited; she was realistic. It did not matter where she went, every eye would follow her. She had always thought it was funny when a wife hit her husband for staring. It was well deserved, she thought. She did not want every eye looking at her, only that of her future husband. Someday she would marry and have children. Those were her dreams. She had come to the States because her best friend had begged her. One year, two at the most, and then they will be home, where her mom and friends were. She already missed

them so much.  
Myrna felt that her dreams and her goals did not match somehow. She had always

been jealous of the freedoms she saw women from other cultures have and wanted to feel that freedom, but she also wanted what her culture dictated: a woman was supposed to be submissive and she was supposed to take care of her husband and kids. Could she have both?

She knew Sonia did not care to go back to their country. Her parents had so many kids that they didn't even know them by name. Oh! They loved Sonia, but Sonia had always felt like an outsider and that is the reason they were here. Well, as far as Myrna was concerned, this was an adventure and she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Boris had made sure everything was ready. The house for the new arrivals was clean and they had food and all the comforts of home. Tomorrow night the customers will arrive and business will take place as usual. He felt sorry for the girls, but not enough to help them. He liked his money. Money gave him power. What Davor and Kruno did not know is that he had kept two of the girls for a couple of his more powerful friends.

He found it interesting how all men were the same. It did not matter what walk of life they came from or what their education was. A real man wanted control of their women. Both of his friends were married to powerful woman. Alexander Burwell was married to an attorney, and Michael Miller was married to a lady senator. These two had too much money, but were lonely and neglected. Both of them felt that their marriage was an act of convenience. They were husbands for show. If they decided on a separation or divorce it would hurt their wives' political careers. What did those women think? A man needed to be appreciated and respected.

He had chosen those two girls for his friends because they seemed innocent, and his friends would pay him well. He knew these men well and he believed them to be kind. He had selected a nice place for them. He had done his research and the penthouse he had selected had been for sale for the last couple of years. The place was overpriced so it did not have much traffic of prospective buyers. He had decorated the penthouse like a honeymoon suite. Everyone involved would be happy.

He was not going to worry about his unwanted partners. He hated Davor and Kruno.

While he did most of the work, those two were the ones who got most of the profits. He figured 'what they didn't know was not going to hurt anyone. He just wanted to even the score a bit.

Sonia was going from room to room of this luxurious penthouse. She jumped on the sofa, and opened the small refrigerator pulling a cold soda out. From there she run first to one room and then the other. The two bedrooms had king size beds, and the decor was exquisite. She had never seen such luxury. She uncovered the bed and found red silk linens, hmm, she said to herself as she rubbed her hands over the softness of the sheets. Did nannies get this kind of luxury? Living in America was going to be great.

At that precise moment Myrna walked in, "This does not feel right. We need to get out of here."

"What are you talking about? Have you seen the sheets?" Protested Sonia with a pout.

"Precisely, nannies do not need silk red sheets. Open the side table; nannies don't need that either. We need to get out of here NOW! Before it's too late. If you do not want to come, you are on your own." Myrna shouted at her friend as she walked purposely to the front door. She tried to open it. It wouldn't budge. "It's locked. Nannies are not locked in a fancy penthouse building either. We need to figure out a way to get out of here. Check the patio." she commanded in desperation as she went to check the windows.

Sonia had not been overly concern with her friend's imagination until she saw that the door was locked from the outside. The doors that led to the balcony were open, but they led to nowhere. They were so high up that if they were to decide to jump, they would become a flat pancake when they hit the ground. If they chose to scream, no one would be able to hear them. She looked at Myrna, concern in her eyes. Myrna had always known what to do in everything. She was the one who solved the problems.

Myrna went to the bar area looking for something to pry the door open. She could not find anything of use. She did find a corkscrew opener. She looked at Sonia, trying to figure out if Sonia had the mental strength to defend herself if need be. She didn't think so, but saw no other solution. "Here, hide this under your pillow. If anyone comes into your bed, stab him, and then run for the door. Do not wait for me, just run. Get help. If I

can get away, I will run and try to get help. I am not coming to save you. We are not strong enough to fight men."

Sonia started to cry. "I don't think I can do this."

Myrna got a wine glass and wrapped it in a cloth napkin, and then she crushed it against the granite countertop. She stared into Sonia's eyes. Sonia had never been exposed to the things Myrna had been. Myrna's stepfather had more hands than an octopus and he tried to put them on her. She had learned to defend herself at a very young age. She felt sorry for her friend. This might be an experience that will scar her forever. "Listen to me, if this is what I suspect, whoever comes won't have any problems hurting us. We need to hurt them first. Stab him in the eye or their privates. Don't hesitate." She got a couple of the larger pieces of glass and placed them under her pillow."

Chapter 5

"I hate my job!" Rosalyn screamed as she entered her apartment and flop on their only sofa.

"Bad day at work, I see," whispered Alana as she sat next to her friend.

"The days at work are all the same. I feel stuck. This company gave me a start, but the salary is low and there is no room for advancement."

"Why don't you look for something else? Alana had asked matter-of-factly.

"I have, no one hires me. I make it all the way to the interview, and they always choose someone else? What is wrong with me? I graduated top of my class and I have a dead end job."

Alana did not want to hurt her friend's feelings, but there were some things that needed to be said and she did not know how to say them. She walked to Rosalyn and pulled her by the hand to her room. Pushed her gently toward the door mirror. "What do you see Rosalyn?"

Rosalyn did not want to look. She did not even have a mirror in her room. She had been avoiding her reflection since forever and she was afraid of what she would see. She had become a master at avoiding her reflection. She hated bathrooms because they all had mirrors. She learned to avoid those as much as possible. Looking at her reflection was a reminder of things best forgotten. "This is ridiculous, I see me of course," replied Rosalyn avoiding the mirror, frustrated with herself, more than with her friend.

"You are misunderstanding me, look at you, what do you see?" When Rosalyn continued to act clueless, Alana continued, "Your clothes, how you are dressed. Your clothes are two sizes too big." Alana sighed. She knew there was deep pain in Rosalyn, she just did not know how to help her if Rosalyn did not open up and share her pain. If Rosalyn were to see, what everyone else saw, things would be so different. Alana was exasperated with her friend's attitude.

"I do not see anything wrong with what I am wearing. They should hire me because of my brain, not my outward appearance." Rosalyn felt frustrated.

Alana sighed, "I am hungry, let's go out to lunch."

Rosalyn would have liked to do a victory dance and scream at the top of her lungs, "You see? I told you so. Clothing does not make a person!" But she knew better. She knew the reality of human nature and outward appearance was important. Ideally she should be hired because of her brains, but realistically, she knew that the way she looked was very important in the world.

At the small cafe Alana had chosen, they ordered two lattes and a couple of sandwiches. They went to a corner table and sat down. Alana looked at her friend with compassion before proving her earlier point. "Most of these people are business people, look at how they look."

So Alana had not given up on the conversation, she just wanted to show Rosalyn the realities of the business world, thought Rosalyn defeated.

Alana knew that Rosalyn was uncomfortable, but she continued, "Pay close attention to the women. Just because you are smart, does not mean you should not look good. Remember you are always a lady and in the business world you must look professional."

Rosalyn took a deep breath. She was not ready to change that drastically, but she got the point. She looked nothing like those beautiful sophisticated women. Alana was right, she was wearing clothes that were two sizes too big, and these ladies were wearing nice suits or dresses that accentuated their figures. A few wore short skirts and showed cleavage, but most looked classy and professional. She wasn't sure she could do it. She hated to be noticed, but she was in competition for jobs with ladies that looked so very nice. Can I do this? The last time I dressed nice, I got hurt. Was that a fluke?

A couple of days later, she found herself sitting at the same cafe, looking at the women. She had some money saved up and could afford a new wardrobe. She had already tried it her way unsuccessfully, now she had to try it their way if she wanted to move up in the world. She felt stagnant in her current job, so she had to try something else.

Chapter 6

Boris was a man of habit. He liked to follow the same routine. He took the same route to work and back toward home again. He ordered the same meals at restaurants and he visited the different restaurants the same day of the week at the same time each week. He knew who frequented which restaurant and always knew if there were any new faces in the places he frequented.

It was his opinion that in order to keep alive and out of jail, one had to be diligent in every aspect. Particularly in his line of work, he needed to know every detail of his surroundings, or it could cost him more than he was willing to pay. He did not think he was immune to disasters, instead, he believed himself to be prepared for them. One little mistake and that was it.

Today, he was walking with a swing in his step. He was expecting a nice sum of money to be deposited into his account. Life was good. As he was walking toward his normal spot at the bar, he noticed her. She was a beautiful brunette with green eyes, a very unusual combination. She was about 5'2" and very well proportioned. She wasn't model thin, but she had curves in all the right places. Instead of sitting at the bar this time, he managed to get a seat at the table across from her. She was so beautiful he had to look at her. He guessed she was in her early to mid twenties. He figured she was single. If she were his, she would never be allowed to be alone in a public place. He frowned at the fact that she never looked his way. He was not used to being ignored.

As he was trying to memorize the features of this rare beauty, he noticed the television above the bar. The news was flashing, "Senator Miller's husband found dead in penthouse apartment." The news anchor came live and explained that the cause of death was unknown, pending an autopsy, but they had found a knife, a corkscrew, and an iron next to the body. The news anchorman continued explaining that cops were still investigating and that they were asking for information. A large reward was being offered

for anything that let to an arrest. They were looking for the people involved and would not rest until they were found.

Boris began sweating profusely, could they pin this on him? Did the temperature suddenly rise in this place? Where was the other man? Nothing had been mentioned about him or the girls. He needed to plan. If Davor or Kruno suspected foul play, he was a dead man.

The first thing he needed to do was find the girls and dispose of them. Then he had to call homeland security and report that he had two no shows. Once he reported the girls missing, they would become immigration's business, and Boris would be covered. He needed to make sure no one else found the girls.

A week later, the case of the murdered senator was still running rampant. The cops, and it seemed to him, every other law enforcement agency had gotten involved. He was still looking for the girls and the missing customer, but they all had disappeared. He had to find them before the cops did. Those two had to die before they pointed the finger at him, but where could he find them? Was it possible that the other man had them? He had called his house and the housekeeper had said that Mr. and Mrs. Burwell had gone on an impromptu second honeymoon. She did not know where they had gone or when they would be back. She would love to take a message. Boris had chosen not to leave a message. He did not need to give the cops anything else to pin on him. What was he going to do now?

He chose to continue his life as normal as possible. If Davor and Kruno suspected anything, he would not be alive to tell about it. He was sure no one could connect him to the Senator's husband, and the penthouse belonged to someone out of town. He did not even know to whom it belonged. He had done a little research and found out that it was vacant. No one could connect him to anything, so it was time to relax and see if he could see his green eyed beauty again.

When he got to the cafe, she had been there again. He continued to frequent the place, breaking every one of his rules. She had been there everyday during the lunch rush hour. As the weeks progressed, so had her attire. The first day she was wearing jeans and

a t-shirt, tennis shoes and no make-up. Her clothes had been too large for her. She had looked like a little girl wearing her mother's clothes. Then, the following week, it had been more of business-like attire. Today, she was wearing a black pencil skirt and white blouse, black stilettos and make-up. She had not worn make-up before. She was like a caterpillar. She had metamorphosed into this sophisticated young beautiful woman.

Since the moment this beautiful woman had walked into Boris' life, he looked forward to going to the cafe. All he could think about was the green-eyed beauty waiting for him. He was annoyed that she was playing hard to get. He was not a man to be toyed with. She would be his very soon.

Boris had been disappointed in himself. He had not obsessed about any female since he had been a teenager. He did not have that kind of luxury. She could be an undercover cop. Impossible! How could anyone know his taste in women? He wondered about her. He had to find out who she was. He had managed to sit facing her again, but he had been invisible to her. It annoyed him greatly that he could not get enough of her, and she had not even looked his way. He could not understand the reason she was toying with him.

Boris was so intrigued about her, he had ordered people to check her out, but the information had not come easily or cheaply. This gorgeous woman never used a credit card, which made him suspicious. The thought that she could be an undercover cop resurfaced again, and he needed to know about her. The people he put on her had followed her and found nothing out of the ordinary. They had finally found her name, Rosalyn Miller. Rosalyn, it suited her. She was as beautiful as a rose. He wondered if she was as prickly as one, and smiled at the thought. They had also found out that she had just graduated from the local university a year earlier and that she was at a dead end job. He was in a situation to solve that problem for her. The information also reiterated that she filled every one of his requirements. Her background was impeccable. She was a very private person and had no social life. He loved the fact that she did not even attend church; people spoke too much when they felt the need to bare their souls. He had found a few minor problems with her background check. For starters, he did not like her roommate. He was mildly concern about her. Did they confide in each other? He did not think so, since they had never been seen together. His other concern was in that she seemed so very independent. He wanted his employees, especially the females to be

dependent on him. He will make sure to become indispensable to this beauty.  
He had a reputation for helping his employees. Of course they all had to pay him

back with work. Most everyone who worked for him felt indebted to him for hiring them when others wouldn't. These same employees were willing to cover for him and even break the law for him. Little favors for people went a long way. He loved the way he ran his business. Once he hired Rosalyn, pulling her out of the dead end job she had, she would be extremely thankful to him for having given her the opportunity to succeed.

He had to figure out how to bring her onboard, and later he would figure out his other problem with the two runaways. Now, he needed to tell her about his company. He needed her there and he would have her there. He dialed a number.

Chapter 7

"Hey, White. I have a case for you." Said his RAC (Resident Agent in Charge) as he tossed a file onto his desk. "These two girls are overstays. The company who had sponsored them has declared them missing. Now their families are calling the embassy demanding to know where their little girls are. This is causing an international incident. We do not need this publicity." He continued as he walked out the door. "When you find them, let us know. I want to be there when you apprehend them."

John looked at the information. He was so tired of getting the insignificant cases. These two girls probably had planned everything from the very beginning, had found a guy to shack up with, and were having too much fun to call home. He'd get to it once he had a free moment.

There were real cases out there, but somehow his boss did not want to hear about them. There were innocents who needed rescuing, and evil people who needed to be put behind bars. Every time he opened a case involving child pornography or white slavery, his boss shut him down. He couldn't figure out for the life of him if it was because the boss was dirty or because the boss preferred to give those stats to some of the lazy people in the office, those same agents who were female and who happen to be friendly with the boss.

Myrna and Sonia had run away as fast as they could from the apartment. How did we manage to get into this much trouble so soon after getting here? Myrna wondered. Myrna was terrified of the repercussions from the law. She knew it had been self-defense. She had hid in the hall closet while her friend had gone to bed. When she had seen the two men come in, one had gone to her friend's room and the other man had gone to the other room. Myrna had run, and pushed a chair against the door holding it in place. Then she had gotten the iron that she had left on a chair by Sonia's room, just in case she needed it,

and when she had heard her friend scream and then the man screamed, she had burst in to the room. The man was on the floor screaming at Sonia. He had the corkscrew in one hand and a knife on the other. Sonia was cowering against the headboard; Myrna had not known what to do. She hit the man over the head and grabbed her friend by the hand, pulling her toward the door. By the time the other man had opened that door and gone into the room to see the reason for the screams, the girls were on their way out the front door. The man had seen them, but did not try to stop them. He had been the one to call 911 from the dead man's phone.

Myrna's idea had been to go to the cops, but when she found out that she had killed the man, she knew she was going to be sentenced to death. It did not matter that she did not hit him hard or that it had been self-defense, in her country, men were always right. It did not matter what they did to women, the women were always at fault.

Now they were hungry and alone hiding in this abandoned home, along with a bunch of other people, and from the looks of them, they were high on something.

They needed to eat. In her desperation to find food, Myrna had gone to the dumpsters in the area. Most of them were locked. As she went from restaurant's dumpster to restaurant's dumpster she found herself in the back of this small café. The dumpster was not locked. When she had tried to climb in, this man had grabbed her from the waist and pulled her back down. She had been terrified. She got a hold of a bottle from the dumpster and hit him on the head with it. "Ouch! Why did you do that for?" She heard him say, but he did not let go of her hand. He dragged her inside the restaurant where he had her sit at a stool. He proceeded to put some food together and handed it to her. Since then, she had gone back every night to pick up a carryout bag. She was sure he had felt sorry for her and was trying to help her, but that could not last forever. She had to figure out what to do now. They could not continue to live like this, nor could they go to the cops.

Although Boris had covered all his bases, he was worried of the loose ends. These girls were loose ends. He needed to find them and dispose of them. The cops were still investigating the Senator's husband's death, and the senator, herself, had promised that the responsible party would be prosecuted to the extent of the law and then some. There

were only three people who could point the finger at him. The two overstays and the attorney's husband. Burwell would not rat him out. He would be in as much trouble as Boris, if he did.

Chapter 8

Rosalyn had become more independent and confident in the last few years. She did not understand how it had happened, but now she was ready to go out of her comfort zone to look and search for a new job. Her current job was horrible, and she was ready for something new. Rosalyn was twenty-eight now, she wasn't a baby. She was going to go out and look for a job.

After Alana had taken her to the cafe, she had decided that a change was inevitable. She wasn't happy with that, but it was time she learned how to play the game. She had bought several outfits and was very proud of how she looked. It seemed to her that she looked a bit taller and slimmer than she had ever look before. The first time she had dressed in one of her new outfits and gone to the cafe, she felt that every eye in the place was on her. She knew that wasn't the case, but she still felt as a target, nonetheless.

Ignoring her inner voice, she continued to frequent the little cafe. The food was good and inexpensive, and it had free Wi-Fi. Her usual order was a latte and a BLT. As she ate, she would proceed to open her laptop, check the employment sites, and before applying to anything, research the different companies. This day was no different with the exception that this very pregnant woman had joined her.

"Hi my name is Helen Durov, I am a personal assistant for the CEO of Global International Import/Export Trade and I am looking for a temporary receptionist," she heard the woman say as she extended her hand toward Rosalyn.

Rosalyn whose manners had disappeared and her tongue had gotten stack, managed to stretch her hand toward the older woman and the only word she could manage was, "hi."

Mrs. Durov seemed oblivious to the breach in manners and continued as if

everything was perfect. "While I train you to take over my job, I will be teaching you everything you need to know to make Mr. Brockovich happy. He is not very demanding, but he likes order." Rosalyn had no idea what the woman was talking about, and just nodded.

"It would only be for two months, but if you are good, we will find a place for you in the company. Are you interested in taking the job?" Rosalyn had tried to process all the information, and could barely contain her excitement. She nodded as no words were coming forward. She had taken the job immediately.

After Rosalyn had accepted the job, Mrs. Durov had handed her a business card, and departed as quickly as she had arrived. Rosalyn, who was still numb with the events, dialed Alana's number. "I have a job! I am so excited." She managed to say.

Alana had smiled, "I knew you were going to get something. Maybe we can celebrate tonight."

"That will be great!"

Alana did not know how to break it to Rosalyn, but Luke had asked her to marry him. They had been friends for a long time and they had only officially become a couple three months earlier, so she had been stunned when he had proposed. Of course she had said yes. She was going to have to tell Rosalyn tonight. She hoped that the new job came with a raise in salary for her. It was going to be hard for Rosalyn to afford their place on her own.

As Rosalyn was paying the restaurant bill, her cell phone rang. The ID caller said it was Mariah; weird she never called her. It had been months since she had heard from her, and weeks since she had heard from her parents.

"Hi Mariah, how are you doing honey?"

"I am sorry, this is not Mariah. This is officer Richards. I need to tell you that there was an accident today."

Rosalyn did not let her finish, "Oh no, is Mariah okay?"

"Your daughter is fine, unfortunately; your parents were the ones involved in a wreck. Both of your parents are in ICU at University General Hospital."

At first, Rosalyn did not know what to say. She had been avoiding her parents for so

long. The idea of losing them was something she was not ready for. Her parents were not old. They were supposed to live forever.

"Ma'am?" the cop insisted.

"Yes, I am sorry. I am going to leave right now, and I should be there in about ten hours."

"Ma'am, you have a child here. Do you have friends in the area, or would you like us to call the Department of Children and Families?"

"No, please. I will call my parents' pastor. Mariah can stay with a member of the church. Give me fifteen minutes to arrange it and I will call right back."

Rosalyn had called Alana to apprise her of the situation, and then she called her parents' pastor. She forgot all about her new job. She did not have time to think, she just had to act. She needed to get to them. She felt that she was going to implode with the desperation she was feeling. She had to apologize to them. She had been feeling sorry for herself, and wasted so much time away from them, from their love. She had been so stupid and selfish.

That phone call had changed Rosalyn's life. One single call and her life had turned upside down. Her parents had died within a few minutes of her arrival. They had not even known that she had been there and all her chances for reconciliation were gone. Mom, dad, forgive me. Rosalyn had no idea how to proceed; what decisions was she supposed to make. She had so many regrets, and could not make it right. She had thought that by giving her daughter to them instead of giving her up, she was making it up to them. Somehow, it had not worked as she thought. Her parents had not been satisfied with Mariah; they still wanted her. All the phone calls she received from her parents had made her feel guilty about not visiting, but not enough for her to actually visit. "Honey, you need to come and visit," "Honey, we miss you, when are you coming?" She had hated those calls, and their relationship had deteriorated every time they spoke. She had made poor decisions and now she could not get the time back.

The phone calls drove her crazy with guilt, but she could not face them. Every time she saw them, she saw the pain and disappointment. They were great loving parents, but she had caused them so much pain. How could she have done differently? It had all been

her fault and she deserved the isolation and punishment.  
Now she needed to face responsibilities she should have faced long time ago.

Responsibilities she had been too afraid to tackle alone. She knew she had wanted to for a while, but was worried of making things worse. She had tried to pretend everything was fine. She had believed her daughter was better off with her parents rather than with her, and that might have been the case, but now she did not know how to be a mother.

Every time she thought about bringing her daughter home with her, she had put excuses and pretended that her daughter was better off with the grandparents. She had even adopted the phrase: if it ain't broken, don't fix it, as an excuse to leave things alone and she had convinced herself that everything was as it should be. She knew she had been in denial. Her life, her relationship with her parents, and her relationship with her daughter had all been broken for a long time, but she had a hard time accepting it. It had been easier to hide from everything and run, than to face her failures.

At one point, her mother had tried to convince her to bring Mariah home with her. But Rosalyn had made one excuse after another: she worked too many hours; she did not know anything about kids; her parents were so much better at parenting than she could ever be. Her whole life had become one excuse after another. She had pretended to have a normal, perfect life, but she knew better. Her life was far from perfect and now she did not know her daughter.

She had no choice. She felt overwhelmed with the responsibility of a child. What was she going to do now? How was she going to raise her daughter? Her mother had been taking care of Mariah from the moment she was born and now it all came down to her and she had no clue on how to do it. She had been protecting her daughter from her sin and she had been protecting herself from getting hurt, and now she had to face reality. She loved her daughter, and now she had to try her best to do it right.

The other problem she faced was her memories. What was she going to tell her daughter if she was asked about her father? Those were memories she did not want to ever face. Those memories frighten her and were one of the reasons she had moved away. She had loved her daughter from the very beginning. She had wanted to have her daughter with her, but she had been too afraid to try it. She had mastered the art of blocking her feelings, but Mariah with her sweet nature, had managed to tear down her

carefully built walls. Every time Rosalyn had looked at her, she had wanted to reach out and hold her. She knew she could not do that. Eventually she would end up hurting her daughter, as she had hurt her parents.

"Mom, where am I going to live now that gramps and grams are not here anymore? Are you going to keep me?" a very shy Mariah had asked.

Rosalyn had been over thinking her life and options that she had not heard when Mariah came into the room and her question caught her by surprise. Rosalyn began to cry. How could she have done this to her baby?

"I would like you to live with me, if it's okay with you."

"I would like that." Mariah had said, but then she got up and walked back to her room. Rosalyn had heard her crying.

She had to fix this somehow for Mariah's sake. She knew Mariah was innocent of all wrongdoing. She was so very sweet. She had always been wonderful. Now Rosalyn needed to make some changes to own her life so that her daughter did not have to pay for her mistakes. She was going to work at having a relationship with her daughter. She was going to become the best mother she could be, but where did she start?

There were so many decisions to be made. As usual she started creating a list. She thrived on organization; first— storage for her parents' belongings, second— sell her parents' house, third— move. Move, where? To her very small apartment? Her place was not meant for more than two people. She had chosen her apartment because of its size and its location. The size gave her comfort. She knew there was no place for ghosts, and the location had been perfect when she had been looking for a job. She was so close to the downtown area she could walk to work if she so desired. She had not worried about school zones or having room for anyone else in there. What about Alana? Would she mind having a child in the house? She had not even told Alana that she had a kid.

Okay, do not panic, she told herself, one thing at a time. First, she needed to research schools, and rent a bigger place in the correct school zone. She would make this work. Her job? Oh! No, she did not have a job, and the one she had been hired she didn't show up to. Now, what? She doubted that she would get a second chance.

According to class discussion, this company was the hardest to get a job in. One student teasingly said that it was easier to get hired as a CIA agent than to get hired by

this company. Everyone she knew wanted to work there because they paid higher salaries than most other businesses in the area. How could she have forgotten to call them?
