

Next Move, You're Dead

Book 1

Next Move, You're Dead Trilogy

Linda L. Barton

Inspired by

Bob G. Barton

Copyright 2011©Linda L Barton

All rights reserved by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written consent of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

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

For my loving, husband Bob.

You're the driving force

in this writing adventure.

For it's in your creative mind

where our stories are born.

And a special thank you to:

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Title Page

Disclaimer

Dedication and Thank You

Chapter1, Chapter2, Chapter3, Chapter4, Chapter5, Chapter6, Chapter7, Chapter8, Chapter9, Chapter10, Chapter11, Chapter12, Chapter13, Chapter14, Chapter15, Chapter16, Chapter17, Chapter18, Chapter19, Chapter20, Chapter21, Chapter22, Chapter23, Chapter24, Chapter25, Chapter26, Chapter27, Chapter28, Chapter29, Chapter30, Chapter31, Chapter32, Chapter33

A Message from the Author
Chapter 1

The Goddess

He sat in the shadows, watching the soiled doves stroll toward each car with hunger burning in their eyes. A chill filled the evening air, but one would never know by the scantily way they dressed. Each took her turn, vying to be the chosen one.

He marveled at how one found them desirable, with their unkempt and worn appearance. Just the sight of them made his skin crawl.

The last time he had partaken of their company, he noticed a new one, fresh and pleasing to the eyes. She was the one he had returned for tonight.

He disliked this part of the city with its dark and dirty streets. However, this was where they offered themselves to anyone willing to pay. It amazed them how they gave of themselves; to present your body and soul without question was truly a rare gift.

Each time he returned to this place, they fought to be the one chosen. He knew his car symbolized money, the one thing they craved, above all else. Money bought the release from the agony they endured. Therefore, each was willing to sell her soul for a temporary release from the pain.

It was all so simple. He only needed to choose. However, he had already made a choice for none matched her beauty with her skin the color of milk chocolate, and eyes of emerald green.

"Tonight, she will fulfill my fantasy. Tonight, she will be my Goddess."

When he had first laid eyes upon her, he was amazed by how one so lovely would be in this dark and dirty place. Even the cheap blond wig and tattered clothing could not hide her beauty.

She will be a delight, he thought gleefully.

He leaned back against the plush, leather headrest and closed his eyes. "My dear, I await the moment when I may gaze into your beautiful, green eyes, and share our ultimate pleasure."

***

The sound of an approaching car brought him back to awareness. He held his breath and waited as it pulled up to the curb.

"Ah, there she is, splendid." He watched as the delicate beauty emerged from the car, amazed how she stirred such excitement within him. "It's time for us to meet, my Goddess."

He started the car and slowly pulled to the curb, where the group huddled under the awning for warmth. He rolled down the passenger window and waited.

He watched as one sauntered over to his car, and then leaned in the open window.

"Do you want a date tonight, honey? I can do anything you like."

This one was old and worn. She had dirty hair, and tattered clothing clung to her skeletal body. She then smiled, showing rotting and broken teeth.

"No, thank you. I wish to spend my time with the young beauty standing by the door. Send her to me," he said in a low, firm tone, so as not to betray his excitement.

"Her! What do you want with her! I can give you a better time than that little ho!"

A look of anger burned on her face at his cold rejection. She knew if she did not make some money soon, her ass was dead. She leaned in closer, hoping to change his mind. However, before she was able to speak again, he held up a dismissive hand.

"I've already told you what I want. I require the goddess to fulfill my needs. Now call her," his voice remained flat and firm.

"Trina, get your ass over here! This prick says he needs a damn goddess!" She stepped away from the car, her anger now replaced with shame.

"Goddess, what is that crap about? She ain't no damn goddess!" She said loud enough for the others to hear, and then she laughed to cover the pain of her rejection.

The beauty walked toward his car, turning her nose up at the others as she brushed passed them. With each step, his desire grew as he anticipated their time together.

Trina smiled at their hate-filled glares, thrilled how things were changing for her. No one would push her around again. She was the one in demand now.

Trina reached the car when a shiver of excitement filled her body. She leaned against the car, resting her hand on the door handle. "Do you want a date tonight, honey?"

"Yes, I do, my dear; please, get in." He gestured toward the door as his heart began to beat with such intensity that he feared it would betray him. I will enjoy this one above the others.

"Don't you want the price? We should be clear on that first," she hesitated, unsure if to continue.

"My dear, the price is no issue. You are worth whatever price you request." His desire for her burned at a dangerous level.

This statement brought the smile back to her lips. "Great! Let's go have some fun; I'm all yours tonight."

Her heart raced with excitement as she opened the door and slid in next to him. "What's your name, honey?"

"My dear, let us not spoil this beautiful night with names. Tonight, you will be my Goddess, and I will worship your beauty."

Trina did not care what game he wanted to play; money was money. She smiled while resting her head on the plush leather seat. "Okay, honey, whatever you say. We will play it any way you want."

"Yes, my dear, it is my game, and I plan to have a splendid time." He looked at the side mirror and then pulled back out onto the street.

Perfect, all is going as planned.
Chapter 2

You Are Chosen

"Good evening, Detective Cooper; your table is ready." The Maitre D' smiled and then motioned for John and Kathy to follow him to their table.

"The waiter will be here in a moment to take your drink order." The Maitre D' waited as Kathy sat before helping her move closer to the table.

"Thank you," Kathy said.

The Maitre D' looked at John and smiled. "I understand you're celebrating a special occasion with us this evening."

"Yes, we are. In fact, it's our 12th wedding anniversary." John glanced at Kathy and wondered if she had mentioned it when she called for the reservation.

"Congratulations to you both. I hope you enjoy your evening." The Maitre D' smiled, then he turned and walked away.

***

Over the past two months, John had been working on an exceptionally severe case. Therefore, a night out with Kathy was a much-needed escape.

The case involved the bodies of murdered prostitutes found along the side of the road. John had spent long hours on the case with no results.

The murders caused quite a stir with those in media. With the discovery of each body, questions arose about the police's ability to protect the residents of the city.

Unfortunately, the media were the least of John's problems. As the weeks progressed, cries for an arrest from the Mayor's office continued to grow. Then as the mayor's poll numbers began to plummet, the demands reached a fevered pitch. Nothing upset a politician more than a steady drop in poll numbers during an election year.

With all the crap from this case, John was glad to have a quiet evening alone with his beautiful wife.

Kathy had always been the one to keep John grounded. Whenever he would get lost in his work, she would remind him, "John, please remember you only do the job; you're not the job."

John was thankful to have Kathy. She would remind him not to get lost in life's routines and forget to live. He had promised her he would do his best to leave his work at the department, but for some reason, he was not able to do it with this case. He could not put his finger on it, but he had a sinking feeling this case would not end well.

John tried to force the case out of his mind and focus on Kathy, but it was to no avail. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint her on this special night as he had so many times in the past.

Once they placed their orders, the waiter returned to their table with a bottle of red Merlot. He removed the cork, poured a small sample, and then offered it to John for his approval.

John looked at Kathy with a questioning smile, took a sip of the wine, and then let the waiter know it was satisfactory.

The waiter filled John's glass, and then Kathy's. "I hope you enjoy your wine. I'll return with your meal."

John waited as the waiter left before he spoke, "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"No, I thought you did. You know, I bet it was Bill and Susan. You know how much they love the finest wines," Kathy grinned, then reached for her glass and took a sip.

"Yeah, they really are hopeless romantics, aren't they?" John never understood why Bill and Susan Randall rambled on for hours about the wineries they visited over the years.

"Well, let's not let them down. To the next twelve years, may they be as full of love as the first twelve." John lifted the glass to his lips and took another sip, noticing its distinctive flavor. He typically did not care for wine, but he found this one to be quite enjoyable.

Once they finished their meal and sat enjoying the rest of the wine with their dessert, the Maitre D' informed John of a telephone call for him at the front desk.

"That's strange, why would someone call me on the restaurant phone." John excused himself and followed the Maitre D' to the front desk.

John stood out of the way, as the Maitre D' pushed through the crowd gathered, waiting for their tables. He pressed the flashing button on the telephone and then held the receiver out to John.

John took the phone receiver and then stepped aside, allowing an elderly man to pass in front of him. "Hello, this is John Cooper."

"Good evening, John. I hope you and Kathy have enjoyed the wine. It has always been a favorite of mine," the voice on the phone said playfully.

"Who is this?" John demanded.

"I wanted to introduce myself to you, John, and let you know you have been chosen," the voice was now low and precise.

"Chosen, chosen for what? Who is this?"

"You have been chosen to be the next Tracker in The Game, John. It's quite an honor, as only a certain few have what it takes. I'm thrilled to have come across you, John. Finding someone of your caliber is rare. You are the type of person I look for as an opponent. I look forward to our time together, but first, I want you to enjoy the remaining wine and the rest of your anniversary with your beautiful wife, Kathy. Keep your eyes and mind open, John. The game begins tomorrow, and I want you to remember things are not always as they appear. Goodnight, John, we will talk again soon." The phone went dead.

John turned to the Maitre D', "Who bought the bottle of wine for us?"

"A gentleman came in earlier this evening. He said you would be celebrating your anniversary, and he wanted to present you with a unique gift. It was an unusual request. Not only is the wine $1,500 a bottle, but he paid for it in cash. He said this was a special night for you and your lovely wife, and that you were to have only the best."

Realizing something was amiss, the Maitre D' cleared his throat. "Is there something wrong, sir?"

"Did he give you his name?" John did not appreciate a stranger sending wine, let alone one at that price. He also disliked the idea of a stranger knowing they would be there celebrating their anniversary.

John had made some serious enemies over his years at the force. Therefore, someone sending wine, and then calling him with a strange message, put him on alert.

"No, sir, he only said to give you the wine," the Maitre D' said as he stepped back to allow a waiter to pass in front of him.

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

"No, Sir, we were quite busy when he came in; therefore, I didn't take notice of his appearance. I'm sorry sir, is there anything else I may help you with?" The Maitre D' looked around for an escape from this uncomfortable situation.

Help; this man has been no help at all! John never understood how people could go through their lives and never pay attention to the things around them.

"No, thank you." John knew he was not going to get anything more from this man, so he walked back to the table and a very confused Kathy.

"Is everything alright, John? You look upset." She prayed it was not bad news.

"Yes, everything's fine." He decided not to tell her the truth about the call until he figured out what was happening. "The guys at work bought the wine and wanted to make sure we got it."

"The guys at work bought the wine? You mean they know there's something more to drink other than beer or whiskey?" Kathy laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't understand; why didn't they call your cell phone?"

"I forgot to plug it in last night, so my battery's dead." John forced a smile, hoping she would believe him. He was glad it did not ring earlier, as it would have ruined his excuse.

Thank goodness, I turned it off before someone called, John thought to himself.

"That was sweet of them. I hope you thanked them for both of us?"

"Yeah, they really are a bit surprising at times. I told them we enjoyed it, and how it added to our romantic evening. You look beautiful tonight, honey," he said, wanting to change the topic of conversation.

"Why, thank you. Are you trying to get lucky tonight?" Kathy winked playfully.

"Well, I was hoping. Any man would be lucky to spend the night with a beautiful woman such as you," John chuckled, noticing her cheeks flush the softest shade of red. "You can't blame me for trying."

"Then let us finish up here and go home to continue this perfect evening. I love you, John," Kathy's voice was soft and sultry.

"I love you too." He reached across the table and gently took her hand in his. The only thing he wanted now was to enjoy the rest of this evening at home with Kathy. He looked across the table into her beautiful eyes, "Come on, baby; let's go home."

***

It all came together the next afternoon.
Chapter 3

Piece Number One

When Charles Everett ran for a seat on the Philadelphia City Council, he promised to make the city one envied above all others.

However, for him to realize his vision, it was necessary to remove the undesirable elements by whatever means available. Of course, this attitude made him a perfect piece for The Game.

The recent gruesome murders of prostitutes had only added to his drive for cleansing the city. With each body found, the media pointed an accusatory finger at City Hall, questioning their resolve to stop the murders.

It did not help that the cut on each victim's neck was near to the point of decapitation. Then to add a sickening touch, the killer removed the right nipple from each of his victims as a twisted souvenir. In spite of all their hard work, the police still had no leads or suspects.

The daily reports in the media upset Charles. He would ramble on and on about how the current administration allowed the citizens of the city to live in fear by not arresting the guilty culprit.

With the discovery of the first body and each one after that, Charles realized he could never have devised a better plan himself. Surely this would be the undoing of the current mayor. With the discovery of each body, it only added to his plummeting poll numbers.

Charles knew this was a perfect way to destroy the mayor and his administration. Besides, the victims were of no significant loss. They were nothing but trash in need of disposing of, and their deaths fit Charles election plans for the next Mayor.

Charles worked hard to create for himself the image of a strong leader. However, he first needed to win the election. Then once he achieved this goal, his next goal was the office of Governor, or maybe even Senator.

Charles carefully planned each move for his career. First, he got a position at a prestigious law firm. Next, he married into an influential family, securing him a seat in City Council.

Those moves set Charles in motion to achieve his ultimate goal: President of the United States.

***

When Charles awoke early that morning, he was convinced the destruction the current Mayor was within his grasp. One of his contacts had given him some damaging information on the mayor, so Charles looked forward to leak it to the local news outlets.

The mayor and his family had long been a thorn in Charles' side. They were old family friends of his wife and had made it clear they believed she married below her station.

"Just who do they think they are?" Charles groaned. "My blood may not be blue, but I'm not trash, either!"

Charles was from a proud, blue-collar family, who had believed in hard work. His father worked long hours for little pay while his mother took in laundry to help make ends meet. Charles swore he would never live the life they had. He demanded more from his life and would do whatever it took to achieve his goals.

On the day Charles had left for college, he vowed he would never look back. He did not even return for the funerals when his parents died. Charles worked hard to put himself through college and then law school, where he made all the right contacts necessary to begin his path to achieving wealth and power. He met his wife through one of those contacts.

After graduating and passing the bar, Charles got a job at a small law firm in Pittsburgh. Then on a fortuitous day, while filing some papers at the courthouse, Charles ran into Jeffrey Sidesmore.

Jeffrey was from a prominent family in Philadelphia. He had taken a liking to Charles in law school, so when they went out to lunch to catch up on their lives, he invited Charles to work for his family's law firm in Philadelphia. Charles had jumped at the opportunity, knowing this was what he needed to progress with his plans.

First, he would make a name for himself at the powerful law firm. Then he would marry into the right family, guarantying the contacts needed to achieve his goals. With this new job, Charles was convinced he would soon have everything he desired.

Charles was with the firm for seven years when he met Mrs. Clara Willings. He realized she would secure the next step in his career plan.

It was not difficult for Charles to woo Clara. She was lonely after losing her husband and only child a few months earlier in a tragic airplane crash.

Her husband, Michael, was the CEO of a large insurance company in New York City. Michael knew she would never be happy living in New York City. Therefore, he commuted to and from work via his private jet, thus allowing her to stay in the family home she loved.

Clara and Michael enjoyed a loving marriage for thirty-seven years. However, it all ended on the day when his airplane went down on his flight home, killing everyone.

Andrew was Clara and Michael's only child. He had moved to the city a few months earlier after taking a job with a prestigious advertising firm.

Clara was thrilled when he called to inform her that he would be flying home for a weekend visit with this father. However, in her wildest dreams, she never could have imagined losing both of them, but on that terrible day, her worst nightmare came true.

Clara's parents died several years earlier, and since she had no siblings, with the death of her husband and son, Clara found herself alone. Of course, this was perfect for Charles and his plans for achieving wealth and power.

***

Theirs was not a marriage of love. Charles would act the moral man she believed him to be, and Clara provided him the contacts he needed for his political ambitions. It was the perfect marital arrangement for Charles.

Charles would laugh at how she blindly trusted him, and how she was oblivious to what he was doing. As long as he made an appearance at her silly, little dinner parties and acted the attentive husband, she was content.

Another benefit of the marriage was Clara never pressured Charles to share her bed. While he had to admit she was an attractive woman, his tastes were a bit more exotic. Everything was going along as planned for Charles. So now, it was time to make his next move.

***

The Mayor's fall from grace was something Charles had long-awaited. He would step to the top of the social ladder with the Mayor's resignation in a whirlwind of scandal and disgrace. The best part was he would be the one to step up to save the city in the eyes of the voters.

"I can't wait to see that smug look wiped off his face!" Charles laughed with his informant after learning of the scandalous information.

Charles was tired of the conspiring behind his back and hushed whispers whenever he entered the room. Sick of his plans for the city continually shot down, and then to only have someone else get credit for his ideas; Charles looked forward to the day's events.

"After today, I'll have you out of my way," Charles gloated as he envisioned the Mayor resigning in disgrace.

Charles left for work before sunrise. He planned to make a brief stop to blow off some steam then head straight to the office.

When Charles started his car to leave, he smiled, realizing how today he would get his due. However, he had no idea he had just become a piece in The Game.
Chapter 4

Move Number One

The rising sun casts a warm and welcoming glow on the streets of the city. At the beginning of the new shift, the dispatch officer had just settled in with a cup of coffee, preparing for the day. The first call of the day reported a well-dressed man had put something resembling a body wrapped in a blue blanket in the trunk of his car.

The caller refused to give his name but insisted it might have something to do with the recent prostitute murders. He said he could not see the man's face, but the car was a silver Jaguar. He then went on to say he could see the numbers 687 on the license plate.

He reported the man was approximately six feet tall, very well dressed, and not the type you would normally see in that part of town.

"The only people driving cars like that in this neighborhood are drug dealers, and this guy wasn't a drug dealer."

The caller said he was walking home from work at one of the convenience stores. He said he had stopped to light a cigarette when he heard the unusual commotion coming from a car parked in the alley. The caller figured with the murders going on, he should report it to the police.

The dispatch officer took the report and told the caller a patrol car would come out to the scene and investigate.

***

After completing his early morning business, Charles drove to his office in City Hall. He was mulling over the coming events when a patrol car pulled in behind him and turned on its lights.

Why would someone pull me over? Doesn't he know who I am?

Charles knew he was not doing anything illegal, and, to be honest, the last thing he needed was a record of him in this part of town.

This could defiantly put a wrinkle in my plans, he thought to himself.

Charles pulled to the curb, rolled down his window, and waited until the officer walked up to the car.

"Good morning, officer. What seems to be the problem? I wasn't speeding, was I?" Charles smiled, trying to appear calm.

"No, you weren't, but you do have a taillight out, and I thought you ought to know. It looks as if someone broke it."

The officer motioned, letting Charles know to follow him toward the rear of the car. Noticing the license plate with the three numbers in the report, and since the car was a silver Jaguar, the broken taillight gave him an excuse to stop the car for a closer look.

The officer had immediately recognized Charles and did not want any trouble for stopping him without probable cause. The last thing he wanted was upsetting someone from the city government.

Learning of the broken taillight angered Charles. How could someone hit my car and not leave a note informing me? He had hurried to his room the night before, not wanting to awaken Clara, and this morning he had rushed out of the house before she awoke.

"Damn, I had no idea," Charles groaned as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car to look for himself.

With things about to go his way, he did not need someone asking why he would be in this part of town so early in the morning. Charles knew the press, as well as the Mayor, would be thrilled with the information, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Both men walked toward the rear of the car. They both looked at the broken light when the officer noticed a small piece of blue fabric sticking out of the trunk hatch. The officer stepped back, drew his gun, and pointed it at Charles. "Open the trunk, sir!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? It's only a broken taillight! Do you have any idea who I am? I'll have your badge for this!" Charles bellowed.

"Yes sir, I'm aware who you are, and I'm also aware you have a lot of power in this city. Now open the trunk, sir!" The officer held his gun firmly aimed at Charles and never flinched.

Charles slowly reached into his pocket and pushed the button on his key remote to open the trunk. However, what lay inside the trunk of his car made his blood turn to ice. There to his horror was the body of a young woman, loosely wrapped in a thin blue blanket. She appeared to be around sixteen years old, dressed in torn and tattered clothing, and wearing a cheap blond wig.

Charles could not believe his eyes. How did a body get in the trunk of my car? "What the hell? I have no idea how she got in my trunk! Someone must have planted her there. I have many enemies! Yeah, that's it. It has to be someone trying to frame me!" His head spun wildly, as the officer cuffed him and placed him in the patrol car then called for backup.

***

The mood at the station was a mixture of surprise and celebration. No one had ever expected the serial killer would turn out to be Councilman Charles Everett.

John was relieved there had been an arrest in the case. He had worked hard on this case, but never once did he believe it would turn out this way. Kathy had told him not to worry because they would solve it, and even though he was not the one to make the arrest, he was glad it was finally over.

***

When they brought Charles in for booking, the look on his face was one of complete horror and disbelief. He kept repeating, "I didn't do it! Someone framed me!"

The next shocking thing was the jeweled box found in the trunk, along with the body. The box appeared to be old and valuable, but its hidden contents surprised even John. Tucked safely inside were the missing nipples from the other victims. Each carefully dehydrated and pressed between sheets of wax paper, as though it were a unique treasure.

This man is one sick and twisted bastard; John thought to himself.

Once the report with the DNA results came back linking Charles to this and the other murders, they could close the case for good. Finding the box with its individual contents was the final piece needed to convict Charles Everett of multiple murders.

John sat quietly and watched the jubilation around the office, but for some reason, he could not shake the strange feeling growing up from deep inside of him. It was all too easy. Maybe there is more to this than meets the eye.

Charles was dumbstruck when they fingerprinted and booked him for the murder of the young girl found in his trunk. No matter how much he protested, no one believed in his innocence, and how he had nothing to do with committing the heinous crime.

Charles Everett was now a mere shadow of the man he had been the day before. He also had no idea he had just become an unwilling participant in The Game.
Chapter 5

Don't Rush to Judgment

John sat at his desk, going through some paperwork when his mind wandered back to the strange phone call from the night before. "Tracker, the Game; what the hell does that mean?"

He jumped when his phone rang, bringing him out of his thoughts, "This is Detective Cooper."

"Hello John." the voice was cheerful.

"Who is this?"

"Have you forgotten me so soon? We only spoke last night, John," he teased.

"Who are you, and what do you want with me?" John demanded, feeling anger swell up inside of him.

"How did you enjoy the outcome of the case you've been working on with the arrest of the murderer of all those women? You must be quite disappointed to have worked so hard over the past few weeks to have victory snatched away by a mere street officer. I saw on the news about how everyone is pleased with the arrest. How exciting it must be for Philadelphia's finest. How thrilled they all must be to get a dangerous murderer off the streets. What a prize; a popular city council member, no less. Tell me, John; does it bother you not to have been there to make the arrest?"

"No, it doesn't bother me! I'm glad it's over!" Of course, John was disappointed not to have been in on the arrest, but he would never let this sanctimonious asshole know his real feelings.

John heard a soft chuckle, "But has it truly been solved? Tell me, didn't it all seem a little too easy? First, there was the phone call reporting the suspicious activity in the alley. Next, the body of the young woman found in the trunk of the car, and lastly, the jeweled box with the little treasures from each of the other victims."

John interrupted before the caller could continue. "How the hell do you about the jeweled box? No one has said anything to the media about it!"

Damn it, there is no way this guy can know of the box, unless... John paused, pondering the unthinkable.

"I know, John, because it's part of The Game," the voice calmly replied.

"It's time for the next move, John. This is such fun, isn't it?" The phone went dead.

John sat in silence, stunned by what he had heard. What is he up to, and how does he know of the jeweled box with the nipples from the other dead prostitutes? Had someone in the department leaked the information? No, or it would be all over the news.

A horrible feeling slammed into John, What if we have it wrong. What if Charles Everett is innocent? It did seem to fall into place too easily.

The problem was all the evidence clearly pointed to Charles, but was he a murderer. There was no denying it made no sense for him to have been in that part of town, but being a fool did not make you a killer.

The problem was the higher-ups in the city government seemed more than happy with the outcome. John knew they would not care if someone called claiming to know intimate details of the murders. They caught him with a dead prostitute in the trunk of his car along with the evidence linking him to the other victims, so as far as everyone believed there was no question of his guilt.

John returned the telephone receiver to its cradle. He sat for a moment when a horrible feeling moved over him. What did he mean by the next move?
Chapter 6

Piece's Two and Three

George Mizlan and Frank Campos were business partners for years. They had started out as childhood friends going to school together, and then to the same college. After college, they started a very successful internet company, but through years, the taste wealth and power caused a rift in their friendship.

George came in early to check on some banking reports for the company. Mr. Richards, the company's head accountant, brought the questionable figures to his attention last night, so he decided to look into them before Frank came in for the day.

While balancing the accounts, Mr. Richards found some unusual money transfers and decided to inform George of his concerns.

***

"Mr. Mizlan, I don't understand what's going on here. There have been several large transfers over the past few weeks. I wasn't able to track them as our system keeps requesting a security clearance I don't have. I thought you might want to know of this before it goes on any longer." Mr. Richards wiped the sweat from his forehead, trying to appear calm.

"Thank you, Mr. Richards; I'll look into it in the morning," George said.

"Yes, sir." Mr. Richards stood and reached for his coat and then walked out the door. Tomorrow should be very interesting; he thought to himself as he left for the day.

***

The next morning while George was driving to work, he heard the morning news of the shocking arrest of City Councilman Charles Everett for the murder of several prostitutes. This news surprised George because he had met Charles at a political fundraiser a few months earlier.

Even though George found Charles to be egotistical and patronizing, he never would have thought of him as a murderer. "I guess it takes all kinds."

George knew how people could surprise you; look at how Frank had changed since school. They were once the best of friends, but now they merely tolerated each other for the sake of the business.

It had pleased George that Frank began to come in later to the office each day. He was fine with it because the less time they spent together, the better. Besides, everyone knew he was the one who had made the company successful.

He set his cup of coffee on the desk then sat in his chair, waiting for the computer boot up.

"Okay, let us see what Mr. Richards found before Frank gets here," he said to himself, as he entered his security code.

***

Frank was still at his apartment, enjoying his morning coffee when he came across the newspaper article announcing the arrest of Charles Everett for the murder of a young woman. The article also mentioned that he was a suspect in the killings of the prostitutes found along the roadside for the last few weeks.

"Can you believe this?" Frank looked up at his housekeeper, Rosella.

"No, I can't, how horrible! I don't understand how someone can do such terrible things?" Rosella reached for the coffee pot to refill his cup.

"I don't know either." Frank took a sip of coffee and then set his cup back down on the table. "I met him a few months ago at a fundraiser, and he appeared to be moving up the political ladder here in town."

Frank then motioned he already had enough coffee, when she tried to refill his cup, "This doesn't make any sense. He just didn't seem to be the sort of doing something like that."

She pulled the coffee pot back and returned it to the counter, "No, it doesn't, sir."

Frank folded the paper and placed it on the table. "You know, I voted for him when he ran for councilman, and I was planning to vote for him if he ran for mayor. I guess you can never tell what someone is capable of, can you? Well, I need to get going. I'll be home around seven this evening for dinner."

Frank looked at Rosella with a big smile on his face. "How about making some pork chops and stuffing for dinner tonight? I plan to stay in this evening. I have some important work I need to finish." He loved her pork chops with stuffing, and it was always a treat whenever she made them.

"Of course, I'll have those ready for you when you return," Rosella said cheerfully, then she reached for his cup and put it in the sink. She loved working for Frank, and she appreciated the way he always treated her with respect.

Rosella had worked for Frank for the past seven years, having started three years before his marriage to Sheila. Rosella never liked his new wife, as she was cold-hearted and only wanted Frank for his money. The entire time they were married, everything was about her wants and needs. Then suddenly, without warning, she left.

Rosella felt sorry for Frank and wondered if he would survive his broken heart. She never understood why Sheila left the way she did, as he had always treated her with nothing but love and compassion.

Through the years, Rosella had grown to think of Frank as a son. She always liked to make his favorite meals and see the smile appear on his face while he ate them.

Rosella had always appreciated how Frank made sure she had everything she needed. When she needed her gallbladder surgery last year, he had paid her hospital bills and hired a nurse to stay with her during her recovery. He even paid her regular salary, making sure she would not get behind on her bills.

Rosella knew she was fortunate to have him as her employer since her husband had died, and her children lived on the West Coast. She was thankful Frank had hired her to be his housekeeper because he saved her from being alone.

***

I saddened Rosella how things had developed in Frank's relationship with George. Whenever she saw them together, George would torture him with memories of the divorce, knowing how it would hurt Frank.

She knew this was why Frank would go into the office later in the mornings, and then bring his work home at night. Sheila had managed to destroy a lifelong friendship between two men who never realized the truth about her before it was too late.

***

"Have a good day, Rosella," Frank smiled as he opened the front door to leave.

"Thank you, and you do the same."

Frank walked out to the garage, dreading another day at the office with George. "Maybe he will be in a good mood today."
Chapter 7

The Betrayal

The information glaring back at him on the computer screen caused George to burn with rage. He double-checked the data in the accounts, but he kept coming back to the same conclusion. "Frank is embezzling thousands of dollars from the company, and then transferring the money to an offshore account."

George tried to understand why Frank would do this to him. Sure, they had a few problems now and then, but to do something so traitorous was unbelievable. Frank nearly pulled off his plan, but what made it even worse was he had clearly pointed a guilty finger straight back to George.

It was quite ingenious. Frank had used George's authorization code to complete the transfers by making it appear as though he had tucked the money away in a bank account somewhere in the Grand Caymans. Frank, you've been found out, and now you will pay.

Learning of this treachery was the last straw for George. If Frank thought George was going to take the fall for this, he was sorely mistaken. It was bad enough when Frank had stolen Sheila from him, but to do this was unforgivable.

George refused to sit idly by and let this continue unchallenged. He would make sure ended today, and Frank paid dearly for his betrayal.

***

From the beginning of their friendship, Frank had always been the popular one. Frank had always been better looking, and he had finished ahead of George in everything. However, in spite of everything, Frank had always treated George as an equal. They were the best of friends, until the day Sheila came into their lives.

Sheila Atterson was the only woman George had ever loved. He met her at a Trade Show six years ago when she was there representing another internet company.

Things were slow, so George was glancing through some brochures when he noticed a beautiful woman stroll by their booth. In the past, he would have been too shy to approach such a woman, but something inside of him told him he must meet her.

"Interesting, she is also in the business," George thought aloud, as he watched her enter a booth of another Internet company. "Frank, I am going to take a break."

"No problem, things are slow now." Frank was sitting at the console, working on a new website idea. He knew George was bored hanging around with nothing to do, so maybe a short walk would help clear his mind.

As a young man, George never had any confidence in himself. He was somewhat clumsy, a bit overweight, and prone to acne. The girls never seemed to notice him when they went out on the weekends, cruising around as young men do. In fact, it was not until college George had his first date.

Frank, on the other hand, was a serious student. Dating and partying were never important to him. He enjoyed a fun evening out as much as the next person, but he considered romance to be a distraction.

George, on the other hand, wanted all the action he missed in high school. He hoped that college would be the time to break out of the old mold and become a new and exciting person. George had no desire to be the geek he was in high school. Unfortunately, it never happened for George.

After college, Frank and George pooled their money and started a small Internet company. They had fun in the beginning. They worked long days and nights for practically nothing. However, with hard work and a few lucky breaks, the company was now worth twenty-five million dollars and growing not bad for three short years in business.

With this success, George began to feel a newfound sense of confidence. He shopped in all the finest stores, drove a Ferrari, and lived in the most elegant condominium complex in the city. With the success of their business, he was now ready to tackle the world of women with newfound confidence.

***

Sheila was talking with one of her co-workers when George casually strolled up to the booth and stood, waiting for her to notice him.

"Oh, hello, I am sorry, may I help you?" Sheila smiled, offering her hand. "My name is Sheila Atterson, and you are?"

He gently took her hand in his, praying she did not notice him shaking inside.

"Hello, my name is George Mizlan. No, I do not need anything right now, but I am very pleased to meet you. I wanted to introduce myself to the most beautiful woman here," he held his breath, hoping he did not sound like a foolish boy with a ridiculous come-on line.

Sheila could see by his suit that he had money. She had always been more interested in a man's portfolio, and with such a corny come-on line, she knew he was desperate.

"How kind of you," Sheila cooed, shyly pulling her hand from his.

He squared his shoulders then continued, "I was wondering if after the hall closed up for the day if you would join me for a drink in the hotel lounge? You are staying at the hotel, aren't you?"

"Yes, Carol and I are sharing a room. Are you staying here also?"

"Yes, I am," he swallowed, trying to contain the excitement building inside of him. "Would you mind joining me at seven o'clock? I'm sure you'll want to go and freshen up after a long day here. Then after getting to know each other better over a few drinks, we can share a late dinner," George smiled.

Sheila tried to contain her amusement at how flushed his face was becoming. She leaned across the counter, looking him in the eyes, "I would love to join you this evening."

Surprised that she had agreed to meet with him, George smiled. "Wonderful; until we see each other again."

For the first time in his life, George had a date with a woman most men only dreamt of having in their lives. As he turned to walk back to his booth, there was a new confidence in his step.

Sheila watched him as he returned to his booth. Interesting, he's with that company.

Sheila decided to do some research on George Mizlan and his company. She wanted to know her time would be well spent, or if she ought to be a no-show. Sheila was tired of men wanting her only for her beauty while offering nothing in return but empty promises.

After having her heart broken several times, Sheila decided only to date men with money, and lots of it. Therefore, once George was out of sight, she got online and began researching him and the position he held at the company.

"Why I do believe I've hit gold," she whispered, closing her eyes in anticipation of the evening ahead.

***

Soft music played in the background as George waited in the hotel lounge for Sheila. The two drinks he had already seemed to help some, but he still felt the knots in his stomach.

George sat facing the entry, desperately hoping Sheila had not changed her mind when suddenly she appeared. Her dress clung to her body, hugging every curve. It amazed him how the vision of her standing there made his breath catch in his throat.

She stopped for a moment and looked around the lounge until she saw him. When their eyes met, a smile appeared on her inviting lips.

George noticed that she had worn her hair down tonight. He liked the gentle way it teasingly brushed across her shoulders, as opposed to the tight pulled up style she had worn earlier in the day. He was also surprised at his feelings as he watched her move toward him.

She moved with such grace that he knew she must have been floating on air. His heart raced, needing to know everything about her. He wanted to know her desires, her hopes, and dreams.

Finding himself lost in the vision of her beauty, he stood and waited for her.

"Good evening George, I'm glad you're here. I was afraid you would change your mind."

Sheila stopped at the chair next to his and waited. She knew to follow his lead, as men with money and power always wanted to be in control, and she had learned to play their games long ago.

"Change my mind? I would I do that? In fact, I must confess that I've been counting the moments until I saw you again. I hope I'm not too bold, but I have a good feeling about us," he smiled then pulled out her chair, allowing her to sit.

"You do? I hope you're right," she smiled with a tingle of excitement moving through her. It is going to be easier than I thought.

Once seated, he gestured to the cocktail waitress. "What's your desire tonight?" He asked in a low voice, trying to hide the fear churning inside him.

"I thought we were starting with drinks. I really do believe we need to know each other better before you fulfill my desires, don't you?" Her eyes looked deeply into his, as though no one else was in the room.

This response, of course, caught George by surprise. "I... uh...uh...I was asking what you wanted to drink?" He cringed, feeling the warmth spread across his face and growing hotter with each passing moment.

"Silly me, I misunderstood your question. A glass of Chardonnay would be excellent," Sheila smiled, knowing the effect she had on him.

As the evening progressed, they ordered several drinks and shared their pasts and dreams of the future. Of course, neither told the complete truth about themselves. They only shared the fantasy life they had created for themselves.

It all seemed to be going well, so George found himself beginning to relax. Sheila had told him of her childhood and growing up with her mother and brother in a small apartment in Chicago. She told him how her brother had died in a terrible automobile accident and how her mother had died of cancer a few years later. She spoke of how she had never known her father and how he had run out on her mother when she was six years old.

Sheila cried when she told him the only memories of her father were of him hitting her mother until she was unconscious and bloodied. She spoke of living on her own and feeling fortunate to have her job with the computer firm because it gave her the opportunity to travel and meet interesting people.

As George sat and listened to her speak of her life, he knew that he had found someone special; someone he could love for the rest of his life.

After several drinks, they both agreed they needed something to eat as the alcohol was beginning to have an effect on them. Therefore, they decided to continue their evening with some dinner.

The meal was superb, and the setting romantic and private. Earlier, George had arranged with the restaurant staff to set up a table for them in one of the smaller conference rooms, complete with candles and flowers.

When they walked into the room, George was thrilled to see the pleased look on Sheila's face. It was the first time he had ever done anything like that, and he wanted it to be perfect.

"Oh, George, it's beautiful. It was so thoughtful of you to arrange all of this." It had amazed Sheila the lengths he would go to impress her. He's going to be easier to manipulate than expected, she thought to herself.

"It's worth everything to see the look on your face. You deserve to be treated like this all the time, and if you allow me, I want to be the one to do it."

He reached across the table and took her hand in his, "You deserve this, and so much more."

By the end of the evening, George was convinced Sheila would be with him forever. She, on the other hand, was convinced he would work out flawlessly for her plans.

They walked in silence down the long hallway toward her room, with George nervously anticipating his next move.

Once they arrived at her room, he drew in a deep breath, anticipating his next move. "I want to thank you for a perfect evening, Sheila." He moved closer, taking her gently into his arms, but when he tried to kiss her, she pulled away.

"I'm sorry, I like you very much, but I don't want to ruin this perfect evening by taking things too quickly. I hope you understand," Sheila stepped back, breaking his grasp.

George was disappointed. He had hoped she would join him in the penthouse for the night.

"Of course, I understand. I would never want to ruin the memory of this perfect evening. Goodnight, my beauty," George took her hand and gently kissed it.

"Goodnight, George. Thank you for being a perfect gentleman, and I want you to know I had a wonderful time also. I cannot wait to see you tomorrow," she unlocked her door and disappeared inside.

George stared at the closed door, praying she would change her mind and join him for the night.

"Sweet dreams, Sheila," he whispered. Once he realized she was not coming back, he walked to the elevator and went up to his room.

***

Frank was still up and reading a book when George came back to their suite.

"Wow, it must have been quite the night. She must be something special to have kept you out this late," Frank teased.

"Yes, she is. I'm tired; I'll see you in the morning." George was in no mood for small talk, so he walked to his room and closed the door. The last thing he wanted to do was answer a line of questions about his evening.

George undressed and climbed into his bed with Sheila still on his mind. For the first time in his life, he had a beautiful woman interested in him, not using him to get to Frank as so many had in school.

His mind wandered with the vision of Sheila flowing into his mind. For the first time, George went to sleep full of hope for the future.

***

Sheila closed the door, relieved the evening was over. She walked to her bed, slipped into her nightgown, and then walked to the bathroom to clean off her makeup and brush her teeth before bed.

"What a perfect first date. George, I must say that you will be easy to manipulate," she laughed to herself.

Once she had finished in the bathroom, Sheila climbed into her bed and pulled the sheet over her body. She was thankful that Carol was asleep when she had returned because the last thing she wanted was to answer the typical annoying questions. She liked Carol but was not in the mood for small talk.

As she went over the events of the evening in her mind, a smile crossed her lips. Tomorrow we begin the next step in my plan, George. You know something, I almost feel sorry for you. Sheila closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

***

Earlier that day, when she researched George and his company, she learned that not only was the company worth a small fortune, but George had a partner, Frank Campos.

According to Wikipedia, Frank was the senior partner. He made all the important decisions, landed the latest contracts, thus making the company's profits sharply increase, but the best part he was gorgeous.

Wealthy, powerful, and handsome, Frank Campos was now her actual target. Sheila knew she would have to keep up the ruse with George to get close to Frank, but she knew George would be easy to trick into playing along.

Poor George had no clue that he was being used to get to Frank again. Sheila had put on quite a convincing performance for him. He had pretended to be a sophisticated playboy, but Sheila saw through his clumsy attempt. In fact, it surprised her that she had not laughed in his face a few times. How sad that you felt the need to brag about your money, and many successes when I know the truth.

Sheila had met many men over the last few years, and she had found the ones who bragged the most, had usually had accomplished the least.

Sheila was no newcomer to playing this game, and she nearly laughed aloud when he told her how he loved her innocence. What a foolish little man you are, George. Innocence; that's a laugh, she thought to herself. He will be so easy to use until I get to Frank.

When the trade show ended, George and Frank headed home. George had seen Sheila twice more, and he had asked her to visit him in Philadelphia if she ever came there on business.

"George, I have never been to Philadelphia. I would love to come for a visit and see the sights. I have some vacation time next month, so I'll come for a visit then."

"That's wonderful; I look forward to seeing you then."

***

On the flight home, Frank asked again of the mysterious woman George had seen the past few days; however, his playful taunts went unanswered. He told Frank how he wanted to keep the memories of the days they had spent together private, but the truth was George was worried he could lose her to Frank.

Sheila appeared to like him, but she never showed any passion for him. Each time he tried to make a move, she would always pull away, asking him to slow down. Her actions confused him, but he hoped that one day, she would grow to love him as he did her.

George believed her when she told him how powerful men had used her. A woman of her beauty would be quite a trophy, but he did not think of her in that way. He did admit to himself, in the beginning, he had only seen a beautiful woman, but after getting to know her, he had found himself falling in love.

All he wanted was to make her happy, and his heart ached every time she pulled away from him.

Maybe she was only being kind and didn't want to hurt me?

***

The flight back was excruciating for George; all he had on his mind was Sheila and how it broke his heart to leave her. He finally closed his eyes, hoping Frank would leave him alone.

Frank was thrilled for George. He had always loved George as a brother, and he knew this woman must be extraordinary to him. "Do you think you will see her again?"

"She said she had some vacation time in a month, and she would love to come to Philadelphia for a visit," George tried to act uninterested, but Frank could see he was excited.

"So, do you think this could get serious?" Frank had waited a moment for a response before he continued. "I'm happy for you. Way to go, she sure is a looker!" Frank laughed, then punched George in the shoulder the same way he had done when they were kids.

Why can't he just shut up and leave me alone? George sat up in his seat and looked for something to read to save him from this conversation.

"No, it's nothing like that. We're friends and nothing more. We only met a few days ago, so it's too soon to think that way." When George noticed a magazine in the back pocket of the seat in front of him, he grabbed it and acted as though he was looking for something to read.

When is he going to get it through his thick head that I don't want to talk, George groaned while pulling the magazine up to hide his face.

"I thought maybe you had more than friendship going on. Oh well, you cannot have too many beautiful friends like her," Frank teased.

George ignored the last comment and kept looking at the magazine until Frank realized he was not interested in talking any longer. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, they both lay back and relaxed for the rest of the flight home.

***

A month passed with no word from Sheila, leaving George to believe she had changed her mind. He came late to work this morning after an early dental appointment. He never liked going to the dentist, as his mouth was numb for hours from the extra painkiller he always requested.

George arrived at work a little after eleven o'clock. He was walking past Frank's office when he heard a familiar voice coming from inside.

It was Sheila. What is she doing with Frank? George felt anger begin to churn from deep inside of him. He took a deep breath and walked in the door.

"Well, look at here," he forced a smile while trying to hide the jealousy, growing inside of him.

"Good morning, George. Sheila and I were getting acquainted until you came in," Frank smiled, nodding toward Sheila.

"Oh, George, it's marvelous to see you again. I was waiting in the lobby when Frank graciously invited me to wait in here for you. He's filling me in on all your secrets. You've had quite an interesting past, George," she laughed then winked in Frank's direction.

Are they laughing at me? George wondered, as the jealousy, he felt stirring inside of him turned to rage. Is Frank trying to ruin it for me? Of course, he is! He wants Sheila for himself!

"Which secrets would that be?" George laughed, careful to hide his actual feelings.

"Nothing embarrassing, I promise," Frank declared. "Don't worry, I didn't tell her any of your bad habits. Well, not all of them at least," Frank laughed, flashing George one of his classic smiles.

"You're not angry with us, are you, George? I only wanted to learn about you from your oldest and dearest friend. Please forgive me if I've upset you. I told Frank that we are friends, and I wanted to learn more about you from someone who knows you well. I hope that's okay?" Sheila knew she had to be careful not to upset George too much. She still needed him for her plan.

Friend, is that what she called me? George felt the familiar sting of the term everyman dreaded. Well, that explains the taking it slowly crap at the Trade Show, but why would she come to see me if she only wanted friendship? Maybe there's still a chance?

"You do plan to stay with me, don't you? I have a guest room so that you would have your privacy," he looked around the office, "Where is your luggage? I'll have it taken to my place."

"That won't be necessary; I already have a room. I flew in late last night, got a rental car, and went straight to my hotel. I hope you don't mind, but I thought it would be for the best. I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings."

The truth was, she had plans for this visit, and they did not include staying with George. She needed to be able to come and go freely to complete her plan

"I'm starving, what time do you take your lunch?" She looked at George with pleading eyes.

George could not believe his luck; there was no way he could go out to eat now. Hell, he could barely feel his mouth, so eating was out of the question.

"I'm sorry, I can't; I just came from the dentist. I could order something in if you're hungry?" Of all the days, to have gone to the damn dentist, he thought to himself.

"Oh, my, I was wondering why you sounded strange. I understand. I hate the way I feel after going to the dentist." It could not have worked out any better, Sheila thought to herself.

Sheila looked over at Frank, "Why don't we go out to lunch? That way, you can fill me in on the rest of the adventures you two shared throughout the years. You don't mind, do you, George?"

George knew what he wanted to say, Hell, yes, I mind! What are you thinking?

However, he calmly replied, "No, of course not, you two go have an excellent lunch. I'm going to my office and get some work done. I'm sure that I'll feel better soon. Go have fun, and we'll see each other later this afternoon."

Frank looked at George, worried he might be upset with the idea. George was not acting his typical self. Maybe it was because of how he felt after his dental appointment and did not want Sheila to worry.

"Are you sure you don't mind me stealing her for lunch?" The last thing, Frank wanted, was George upset with him.

"Of course, he doesn't mind. Why would he?" Sheila turned and smiled at George.

"We're only going to spend the entire time talking about you, so stop worrying. Now, go get some rest, and I'll see you later," Sheila smiled.

A few moments of silence filled the room before Sheila stood and walked around the desk, then grabbed Frank by the arm. "Shall we go?"

Frank glanced at George, unsure of his feelings. "Okay, if you don't mind. I promise to have her back early." Frank stood with Shelia, still tugging on his arm.

"Don't worry, George; I'm in good hands," Sheila giggled. She slipped her arm in Frank's then leaned against him.

"So, where are we going, Frank? I'm all yours," Sheila laughed as they vanished around the corner, leaving George standing frozen in place, trying to understand what just happened.
Chapter 8

The Final Straw

George sat glaring at the computer screen, unable to believe what he was reading. However, there it was clear as day. Frank was framing him for embezzling thousands of dollars from the company account. George knew there had been tension between them since the divorce, but to do this was unthinkable.

Sheila and Frank were married six months after she showed up in town for her vacation. She had made it clear that she never felt the least bit romantically interested in George; that her feelings toward George were merely those of friendship. However, she knew the instant she met Frank; he was the one she wanted.

Dumbfounded by the betrayal, George swore he would never trust Frank again. How could he do that to me? Surely he knew that I loved her.

Once again, George had lost out to Frank, but he promised himself it would never happen again. From the beginning of their friendship, George had lived in Frank's shadow. Well, no more. No longer would he be second. No longer would he be a stepping-stone to get to Frank.

On the day of their wedding, George stayed home, refusing to join the festivities. Frank had pleaded for forgiveness, but George simply laughed.

"You have done this to our friendship, Frank. I will never forgive your betrayal and selfishness, and I want you to know that we are no longer friends." It was the worst day of George's life and the beginning of his festering hatred for Frank.

***

Joy filled the first two years of marriage for Frank and Sheila. They took trips to exotic places, spent evenings dining in the finest restaurants, and attended all the popular events. Everything was perfect with Frank and Sheila until he suggested it was time to start a family.

Sheila told Frank that she wanted no part of motherhood. She said their lives were perfect, so why change what they had. Frank told her that children would only enrich their lives, but Sheila wanted no part of it. Frank did his best to convince her, but she made it clear that their plans for life apparently were not the same. Having children was not in her future, and if he did not understand, then, divorce was the only solution. Frank was devastated; he loved Sheila and wanted a family with her, but she had made it clear it would never happen.

The day the server arrived with the divorce papers was a dark day for Frank. He had tried everything he could do to get Sheila to change her mind and stay. He even told her that he would never mention having children again if she would stay, but she told him that her plans no longer included him.

The divorce lawyer had wanted Frank to fight the settlement she demanded, but he would hear nothing of it.

George was thrilled about the divorce and saw it as his opportunity to having Shelia again. He had begged her to stay with him and promised her anything she desired. He told her how he had loved her since their first night together at the Trade Show, and how it broke his heart when she chose Frank over him.

At hearing his pleas, Sheila laughed and told him the thought of being with him made her sick. She told him the only reason she came to Philadelphia in the first place, was learning of Frank. In fact, he was her ticket to Frank and his money. She told him he was a means to achieve her goal of marrying Frank and living in wealth and comfort.

"Had Frank never asked for children, I would have stayed with him longer," she said to a stunned George.

Then to drive the final dagger into his heart, she told George how much she would miss the sex with Frank. "Frank was an exciting lover, something I'm sure you're not."

The memory of Sheila running her hands seductively down her body and saying, "You will never know the joy of having a woman such as me in your bed, George. That is unless you pay for it. The worst part is I'm sure she'll have to close her eyes and fantasize it is someone else!"

As George stood speechlessly, she looked deeply into his eyes and said in a cold, hate-filled voice, "It's sad that you're not even good enough to marry for your money. Think about that, you pitiful excuse for a man."

With those final words, George felt his heart ripped out of his chest, never to beat again.

***

After Sheila had left, George made it clear that his friendship with Frank was dead, and the company was now the only thing they now had in common. As time went on, it became harder to get along, and they found themselves bickering over the smallest of things. It was evident to George that the company would never survive both of them being there, and someday soon, one of them would have to go.

***

"Frank, if you think you're going to gain total control of the company this way, you need to think again," George growled to the empty room.

George had put up with being second to Frank for long enough; it was all going to end today.
Chapter 9

Jealousy is a Terrible Demon

Frank arrived at work at around ten o'clock. He headed straight to his office for a conference call with Jack Snyder in Hong Kong.

Being in no mood for a confrontation, Frank quickly made his way past George's office in the futile attempt to go unnoticed.

Since Sheila had left, George always looked for the opportunity to taunt Frank for losing her. Frank hated the continual need to defend himself against George's constant attacks. Therefore, the less time they spent together, the better.

The only thing Frank wanted today was to do his work and then head home for some of Rosella's delicious pork chops. However, life does not always give us what we want.

***

George smiled as he watched Frank rush by his office door.

Now I know why you never speak when you pass my office door. You're feeling all the damn guilt! How long have you been planning this, my old friend? I know you believe the company would be better off without me here, but that's not going to happen.

"Not today; not ever!" George slammed his fist down on his desk.

The quickened pace did not prevent the sickening feeling building inside of Frank as he passed by the open door. He pretended not to notice George sitting at his desk with a nasty look on his face, but he knew it was to no avail. Frank had no idea why George was upset today, but he did not want to stay around to find out.

So, that's how it's going to be, huh? George stood and walked toward his wall safe.

Frank had no idea that George kept a handgun in his office safe. He had purchased the gun after one evening when walking out to his car; a man robbed him in the parking garage. Afraid that it would happen again, George bought the handgun but never had the courage to carry it.

Today, however, was an entirely different matter. George opened the safe and took out the gun, holding it gently in his hand.

It's a hell of a thing of beauty, he thought to himself.

George took a moment to admire the craftsmanship and sleekness of the gun before tucking it into his jacket pocket and walking to Frank's office.

***

Busily looking through some paperwork while waiting for the conference call, Frank glanced up when George walked through the door. Great, what does he want?

"What may I do for you today, George?" Frank held his breath, waiting for the reply.

"No, Frank, it's not what you can do FOR me; it's what you're doing TO me!" The cold, hard look in his eyes let Frank know this would not end well.

"What are you talking about? What's the matter with you, George?" Frank was in no mood for an argument today. He had no idea what had upset George this time, but obviously, he was about to find out.

"You've been setting me up, Frank! In all the years, I've known you; I would never have expected this from you. Did you really think you would get away with it?" George glared at Frank while gathering strength from the feel of the gun in his pocket.

"I set you up? What are you talking about, George?"

"What about Sheila? I had her first, and you just swooped in and stole her. She was mine, not yours! Hell, you weren't even man enough to keep her. It's sad when a woman doesn't want to have your children and runs away at the thought of it! She was supposed to marry me, not you! You just had to ruin it for me, did not you?" The pent-up anger now exploded out of George with overwhelming force.

"You're out of line, George. You need to go back to your office and calm down. I never stole anything from you. You cannot lose something, which was never yours, to begin with. Hell, I did you a favor; she was only out for the money. She never loved me; I know that now. Besides, what makes you think she would have stayed with you? I'm sick of all the sobbing and whining because of her. Get over it, damn it! She's gone! You need to let it go!" Frank still loved Sheila, and he thought of her every day, but he was tired of this same old argument.

George fought to contain the rage burning inside of him, but Frank's words only fanned his anger more. He had steadied himself before he spoke again in a voice dripping with hate.

"You took the only woman I ever loved, and now you are trying to steal my company. I stood back and let you have Sheila, but I will not stand aside this time!" George slid his hand deeper into his pocket, gently caressing the gun with the coolness of the metal, giving him strength.

"I'm not trying to steal anything from you. Have you lost your mind, George? I have no idea where this idea came from, but it's crazy. If I had wanted to get you out of the company, I could've done it long ago. You know I have a controlling interest in this company, I always have. Now knock this crap off and go back to your office. I need to get ready for a conference call, and I don't have time for any more of this nonsense."

As soon as he had finished speaking, Frank knew he had gone too far.

An expression of pure rage appeared on George's face. Without thinking, he took the gun from his pocket and aimed it directly at Frank.

"You cannot control anything if you're dead," his voice was calm, his hand steady.

"Come on, George, what are you doing? I know something has you upset, but you're not thinking clearly!" Frank pleaded.

"No, Frank, my mind has never been clearer," he smiled and then pulled the trigger.
Chapter 10

Move Number Two

A call came into the department of a shooting at an internet company. The caller reported that one of the owners had shot the other one, killing him instantly.

Once officers arrived on the scene, they found the alleged shooter sitting at his desk, staring blindly ahead, and repeatedly saying, "I have the control now, and you have nothing."

When the arresting officer ordered him to put down the gun, George quietly placed it on his desk and went back to repeating his chant.

***

"That guy is either a real nut case, or he is one hell of an actor," Detective Dave Pierce told John on their trip back to the department.

"Yeah, it sure looks that way. What a waste. Those two had everything you could possibly want and look what it got them. At least, it's a clear-cut case of revenge. The victim tries to frame the shooter for embezzlement, making the shooter snap. It must have been a power struggle between them." John shook his head at the foolish things people did for money and power.

"I guess he didn't believe that he had a big enough share of the company and wanted more. Man, if I had that much money, I would buy a beautiful boat and spend all my time on it. Shit, they had everything; what more could they want?" Dave was a sensible man and always spoke of buying a boat and taking off to places unknown. John always liked that about Dave. He understood the road to happiness was to keep life simple, and things in perspective.

John found himself completely exhausted. It had turned out to be another long day, and he was ready to go home. He had spent the majority of the morning going over the Everett case, trying to see if he could find any holes in it. No one wanted to question the evidence, but John was beginning to doubt it all.

His training and experience had told him to rely on the evidence, and through it, you would always find the truth. Unfortunately, this time, he was afraid everything they knew about this case, was a lie.

What if the evidence is wrong? The very thought sent a chill coursing through him.

John was ready to go home for a quiet evening. "Yeah, never I have understood some people," John laughed as he slapped Dave on the shoulder.

John laid the unfinished paperwork back on his desk. "Dave, it's been a long day. I'm heading home for the night. I'll see you in the morning."
Chapter 11

Our Past Always Comes Back to Haunt Us

John pulled up in his driveway, tired and wanting to relax for the evening. Kathy had flown out that morning for a seminar in Miami so that he would have the house to himself.

He laughed at how she always acted as though she hated to go, but he knew better. Three days in the warm Florida sun, anyone would want to go. He went to the kitchen and heated the leftovers she left for him in the microwave. Once it was warm, he took the meal to his office to eat while he went through his emails.

"Oh baby, you do know what I like!" he laughed as the delicious smell of roast beef filled his nostrils.

***

The first few emails were nothing special. There were jokes from co-workers at the Department, along with the typical junk. However, as he went through the list, he noticed one that caught his eye. George and Frank were fun!

"What the hell is this?" John opened the message and began to read.

People have always let the pursuit of money and power lead to their destruction. It's a shame how poor Frank had no idea why he had to die today. He knew nothing of the money transfers made to look as if George was doing it. They both were easy pieces in the game.

George was the weak one in the pair, making him easy to manipulate. He is a pathetic, little man who never learned to like himself for all he had accomplished. George had a life anyone would envy, yet it still was not enough for him. Deep inside, he had always known he would be nothing if it were not for Frank carrying him his entire life. This self-loathing was why it was so easy to use him. I was sure he would not have the courage to kill himself after killing Frank. Have you figured this out yet, John? Have you discovered what your part is in the game? You need to hurry because you are falling behind, first with the Everett case, and now with this one. It's your move; now let us see what you have. I do hope you're able to live up to my expectations, John.

Suddenly the screen flashed, and in a swirling motion, the email vanished with no trace left behind.

John stared at the blank screen, trying to grasp what had just happened. "What did I just read, and how do they know all of that? Hell, it only happened a few hours ago!"

John took another bite of his dinner and thought through things again. Could this be true? Were those poor men set up to be pawns in some sick game, but if so, how did he do it? To break into the secure system at a company like that would take someone who worked there or a professional hacker.

A sickening feeling washed over John. "How am I involved in these two cases, and what is my part in this game he keeps referring to?" John groaned.

Pushing his fears aside, John went to the final email with Sleeping Beauty Died in the subject line. He opened the email with a picture of a beautiful woman with long flowing hair, dressed in a silk nightgown appearing on the screen. He leaned in closer to the screen and noticed an unusual pendant hanging from a gold chain around her neck.

It must be some unique family crest, he thought to himself.

There was no caption, simply her picture. Who are you, and why was I sent your picture? As he stared at the image of the sleeping woman, words began to form on the screen.

The lovely rests in eternal slumber,

With dreams of angels flowing through her mind.

She knew not the way her path would take her,

Do you know why Sleeping Beauty had to die?

In a blink, the picture was gone. "Okay, what's going on here?" John sat up straight, trying to understand the meaning of the message and photo.

"Who sent that email?" he mumbled as a cold and foreboding sensation possessed him again. Could this email have anything to do with the strange caller who told me I was part of a game?

John had no idea who this woman was, but she must have something to do with the strange caller. He leaned back in his chair when a terrifying thought came to him. Is she dead?

John thought of everything that had happened recently, trying to make sense of it all.

Are we possibly getting these cases wrong? Is someone staging crimes for a sick game, but why involve me?

A new thought entered his mind that made his blood run cold. Are these people dead because of me? Oh God, what if more will die for his game?

"What did he call my part in this...Tracker? That's it; I am supposed to track down the clues and expose the truth about the murders!" John pounded the desk with his hand, feeling in control of things again.

John decided the game was one of lies and misdirection. Oh, my God, he's committing the crimes and setting up others to appear as the guilty parties! Surely, it isn't that simple, is it?

This new revelation caused John to pause and rethink the entire ordeal. Each case had appeared solved beyond any doubt, and those guilty of committing the crimes were awaiting trial for murder.

Maybe he's only playing a mind game with me, by making me question the evidence. That cannot be it though because he knows far too many intricate details of each case, even those not known to the public.

John's mind spun wildly, and for the first time in years, he wanted a good stiff drink. He rubbed his eyes, trying to comprehend the whole thing when the telephone rang. He reached for the receiver, praying it wasn't work-related, "Hello."

"How are you this evening, John? I see you've opened my emails."

"What are you up to, and how did you get this number? It's unlisted, and how did you get my personal email address?" John's body shook as the anger churning inside of him grew to a dangerous level.

"Oh, John, it was no problem at all. You see, I know everything about you. I know how both of your parents died when you were very young, and that your uncle and aunt raised you. I also know you grew up wanting to be a detective like your uncle and how devastated you were when he was forced to retire early. I know how you watched him drink himself to death with no one able to help him. It's quite sad that he died before you graduated from the Academy because I'm sure he would have been proud of you. I also know about your partner, and how he died during your early days on the force. Tell me, John, how it feels to know you received your detective's badge washed in your partner's blood?" he taunted.

"You bastard; what are you up to?" John's hand shook while crushing the telephone receiver.

"You already know, John. It's all part of The Game," the voice teased. "You need to get busy if you are going to stay up on the moves. Did you enjoy the picture of the beautiful woman? It is such a shame she had to die with having such a compelling reason to live. I want you to know how thrilled she was with the news of her coming treasure. It is a shame that her poor husband will never understand why she did it. He will deny the hotel receipts, but each one is traceable back to his office computer and his corporate credit card. He will swear he has never cheated on his wife, but everything will clearly point a finger of guilt to his infidelity. I want you to know she was a special piece in The Game, and it was nothing personal. John, you need to relax tonight, for tomorrow it will be a very exciting day. I think you will enjoy this next move in The Game and do remember that things are not always, as they appear. Oh yes, before I forget, I left you a little something in your desk drawer. I thought it might help take the edge off things this evening. I know how it used to be your favorite. Goodnight, John; we'll talk again soon." The telephone call ended.

"Oh, God, please say this isn't true. Please don't tell me an innocent woman died as part of his sick game!"

John thought back to the beautiful face in the email, and those chilling words - Sleeping Beauty Died.

"How does he know so many personal things about me?"

He stared at the blank screen when a shiver moved over him. "What did he say; he left me something in my desk drawer?"

John sat straight up, his eyes burning with fury. "Shit, he's been in my house!"

John's mind raced, wondering what to do next. Should he call the department and have someone come out to look around, but how would he explain it to them?

Let us see here, I have been receiving communications from some mystery person who appears to know everything about me and our latest cases. The same individual says I am the Tracker in his game, and it is my job to learn what he is up to before he makes his next move. I know the cases appear solved, but I am beginning to believe that we may have them wrong.

"They would lock me up in the psych ward so fast I wouldn't know what hit me," he scoffed at how foolish the story sounded even to him.

"No, I'm going to have to figure this out on my own. The bastard wants to play; so, let's play!"

He slowly reached for the drawer handle and held his breath, unsure of what to expect. Once the drawer was open, he looked down to find a bottle of his favorite whiskey nestled amongst his papers. He reached for the bottle then hesitated a moment, wondering if he ought to call the department, after all.

John closed his eyes and heard the taunting voice in his mind pushing his hand onward to the bottle. As he cautiously lifted the bottle from the drawer, he was surprised how the sensation of the glass neck of the bottle in his hand brought back a familiar feeling from long ago.

Years earlier, John swore he would never allow himself to feel that way again. Unfortunately, the amber contents hidden inside offered a comforting sensation and promise of release from all his problems.

John placed the bottle on the desk with a gentle touch, the way one would treat a lover. Then he sat motionless, fighting the desire to surrender to its siren song.

John promised Kathy that he would never drink whiskey again. His drinking had nearly destroyed their marriage when he had turned to it after Ray's death. In all the years since that terrible time, John had never craved whiskey; that was until tonight.

Why now? John thought to himself, but the battle raging inside him was overpowering

"Hell, what could it hurt; I'll only take a sip. Besides, I know it's not poison because the sick bastard still needs me for his little game!"

John reached for the coffee cup on the shelf behind him, filled it halfway, and swallowed it without a blink.

He lifted the bottle again, this time stopping to look at the inviting, amber liquid. He knew the mistake made by partaking of its intense pleasures.

"To hell with it, I'm a grown man! If I want a drink, I will damn well have one!" He tipped the bottle into the cup, this time filling it to the top. John enjoyed the inviting smell emanating from the open bottle, and the sound it made as it splashed into the cup.

"It sure has been a long time, old friend." He placed the cup to his lips and took a deep swallow. A warm sensation washed over him as if reuniting with an old friend. As he leaned back in his chair, the memories of the day, Ray died flowed into his mind.

***

It was a typical day for John and his partner, Ray Neivans, when they received a call to go check on some suspicious activity in an abandoned building a few blocks away. They knew drug dealers were using the buildings, and the word on the street was they cut the drugs with poisons to enhance the high. There had already been two deaths related to the drugs, so the opportunity to catch those responsible would be a real feather in John's hat.

John was hungry for a high-profile bust to help him make Detective. Being young and impulsive, however, made him more likely to react with poor judgment. When John and Ray arrived at the reported building, they quietly surveyed the situation. John signaled that he would go around to the back, and Ray would stay by the squad car to call for backup before they did anything else. John knew he ought to wait, but as he got in position, he heard voices coming from inside.

They were speaking in hushed tones, but John heard one of them say that he had to leave to meet with a customer.

There's no way any of these people will get away; John thought to himself.

Believing that Ray had already called for backup and was waiting, John charged through the back door, catching the drug dealers by surprise. He knew his actions were against everything his training had taught him in situations such as this, but his hunger for glory overrode his training and his better sense.

When the door flew open, John saw two men standing by a makeshift table covered with small bags of white powder. He charged in with his gun drawn and yelled, "Freeze, Police!"

One of the men reached for a gun lying on the table, but John fired first, critically injuring him.

Ray had finished his call for backup and was standing by the cruiser when the fleeing man caught him by surprise. Before Ray was able to react, the man shot him in the face, killing him instantly.

While in pursuit of the fleeing man, John ran out of the front door in time to witness the back of his partner's head burst in a spray of blood. He fired at the man, killing him on the spot.

John then rushed to the cruiser, grabbed the microphone, and called for help. "Officer down, Officer down!"

The words barely escaped his mouth before several backup cars charged into the parking lot. John told them of the injured man inside, and what had happened. When the ambulance took Ray's body away, John thought of what he had done wrong.

Ray is dead! Ray trusted me, and I let him down! The images playing out in his mind were too terrible to believe.

***

Over the next few weeks, John fought with the guilt of his decision to charge into the warehouse. The first man shot had survived and provided the names of some of the biggest suppliers in the area. This bust was the one John had dreamed of, as it earned him the detective's badge. However, the price paid was too great for him to accept.

John received praise from the higher-ups in the department, but he knew Ray's life was the price paid for his promotion. No matter what anyone said, he was aware that he had allowed his desire for glory to overshadow his training.

John knew if he had waited a few more minutes, Ray would still be alive, and his son would still have a father. John knew his thirst for glory had destroyed a family he loved.

The guilt ate at John like cancer, and he wondered if he would ever know happiness again.

Kathy began to worry about John as she watched him become distant and withdrawn.

"Please, John, you need to talk about this, it's not good to hold it all inside," Kathy pleaded, but he would just look at her and walk away.

The guilt continued to eat away at him until he began to numb his pain with an occasional drink after work. As time went on, the occasional drink grew into stopping at a local bar on the way home from work. He then began hiding bottles in his desk at work, his car, and in his office at home.

John's drinking reached the breaking point when, during an arrest, he began to pistol-whip a drug dealer while yelling in a blind rage, "This is for Ray, you son-of-a-bitch!"

The next few days as John lay in a hospital bed and strapped down for his protection. After tears and pleas for forgiveness, John finally agreed to get help to overcome his feelings of guilt. After several months of intensive therapy, John was able to return to work even though he had only buried his guilt deeper inside of him.

John was thankful to Kathy for sticking by him throughout his difficult ordeal. He knew he would have surrendered to the guilt without her love and support. Now, John had the opportunity to be the detective Ray believed he would be someday.

***

John hated those memories because the guilt and remorse had never gone away. They were always there barely under the surface, ready to bubble up with the slightest nudge. John took the bottle, filled the cup again, and held it in the air. "Here's to you, Ray, my brother in arms and friend; I wish it had been me."

***

John awoke, slumped over his desk with a pounding headache. He opened his eyes and saw the empty bottle sitting there as a painful reminder of the night before.

He slowly lifted his head and looked at the clock, realizing it was six o'clock in the morning.

"Crap, what the hell was I thinking last night?" he moaned as he rubbed his throbbing temples. He felt like shit, but he had no one to blame but himself.

When John stood, every movement caused the pounding in his head to become nearly unbearable. He picked up the mess and decided to bring the empty bottle with him to throw away on the way to work.

"I damn sure don't want Kathy to find an empty whiskey bottle in the house when she returns from Florida," he chuckled nervously.

Why did I even touch the damn thing in the first place, let alone drink the entire bottle?

John cringed, knowing he should have checked the bottle for fingerprints, but there was no sense in worrying about that now. He knew once he picked it up, he had contaminated any evidence left behind.

"John, you let that asshole get the best of you!" he groaned.

"I can't believe he was in here!" What if Kathy was home; would he hurt her? I'd also like to know how he got past the damn security system? Did one of us forget to set the alarm before leaving? No, we both make sure we've turned the alarm on whenever we leave the house.

***

When John and Kathy purchased the top of the line security system, the sales representative had assured them in all the years he sold that particular model; no one was able to breach one.

"So much for your top of the line security system, you lying asshole. What a total waste of money!" John groaned.

With his head still aching, John went upstairs to shower and get ready for work. No matter how hard he tried, the memory of the night before haunted his mind.

You need your rest, John. Tomorrow is going to be an exciting day. "What did he mean, and what does this have to do with the beautiful woman in the email?"

After his shower, John checked the house one more time to make sure everything was in order, and then he headed out to work, bracing himself for the day ahead.
Chapter 12

Pieces Four and Five

Jim Miller was a prominent trial lawyer in Philadelphia. He had married Alisha, the beautiful daughter of William Jones, a senior partner at the firm where he worked. Jim worked long hours on his many cases, occasionally needing to spend time away from home.

Over the years, it had amazed Jim how several of the men at the firm indulged in the pleasures of the flesh whenever traveling out of town. However, Jim had no need to partake as he had everything he desired at home.

Married to the love of his life, and with a career to be envied, Jim considered himself blessed. Now the only thing missing from his perfect life with Alisha was the joy of children.

Jim recently won a multimillion-dollar lawsuit. It was your typical David and Goliath case with the injured and suffering individual fighting against the uncaring corporation. The media loved it, and because of his talents, the jury forced them to pay and pay big.

Jim was out of town, sewing up some last-minute details when he decided to call home and check on Alisha. He knew she was expecting his call, so he did not want to make her wait.

"Hello," Alisha was thrilled to see it was Jim on the caller ID.

Jim loved the sound of her voice, "Hello, beautiful. I wanted to call and let you know I'll be home sometime tomorrow morning."

He hated that he had to be away from her, but he was thankful she understood the long hours needed for his work. Since her father was also an influential trial attorney, she knew the sacrifices made for their work.

"Great, it means I get the house all to myself tonight," she teased. "You are coming home tomorrow, though, right?" Alisha knew he was busy, but she had some exciting news and was anxious for him to get home.

"Yes, I promise. I know I've been busy lately, and I am sorry, but this case was an important one for the firm. I love you, and I appreciate your understanding. I cannot tell you how lucky I am that you lowered your standards to marry me," he teased.

"Enjoy your bubble bath, and I'll see you in the morning," Jim closed his eyes, envisioning her in the large tub surrounded with fragrant bubbles. "I love you, sweetheart."

"The water is filling the bathtub as we speak, and I've already lit the candles," she giggled. "I love you, too, and I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight."

"Goodnight and sweet dreams," he laughed, then hung up the telephone.

Alisha always enjoyed a nice, long bubble bath whenever Jim was away on an overnight business. She would fill the large bathtub with warm water and her favorite scented bubble bath. Alisha then lit candles and placed them around the room, casting a warm glow in the room. Once Alisha had prepared everything, she poured herself a glass of her favorite red wine to enjoy in her bath. Tonight, would be no different except for one thing; she was not alone.

***

The man patiently waited. He watched her play with the bubbles floating in the warm water as she sipped her glass of wine. He then marveled at her beauty when she slipped into a silk nightgown, and then sat to brush her long, flowing hair at the vanity in the bathroom. Once she finished, she walked back to her bedroom and relaxed on the deep, royal blue chaise lounge sitting next to the window to read and finish her glass of wine. He watched with a heightened sense of anticipation until it was time for his next move.

***

Loved by everyone who met her, Alisha lived her life caring for those less fortunate. When she and Jim first met at her father's law firm, they instantly fell in love. They married a few months later, with the wedding being one of Philadelphia's most lavish events of the year.

Alisha was proud to be Jim's wife. He valued honesty and integrity, and she knew he would never break the promise he made the day he proposed.

"Alisha, if you will do me the honor of being my wife, I promise never to bring shame or sorrow into our home."

Alisha understood why Jim had to be away. She had grown up watching her father build the firm, and the time her mother had spent alone.

Her mother would always say, "It's the wife's responsibility to assure her husband will want to return home each day after his work." She knew it was old-fashioned thinking, but the philosophy must have worked for her parents as they were going on thirty-seven years of wedded bliss.

Her mother had also taught her to fill her days with charity work in the community until the time came when she had her first child. Alisha had always tried to follow her mother's advice, so she decided to volunteer at the shelter for battered and abused women.

Those in charge at the shelter were thrilled to have Alisha working with them. She had the contacts required to raise the large amounts of money needed to keep the shelter open and serving those in need.

Alisha loved her work at the shelter. She only wished she could do more to prevent the pain on the faces of those in need. She never understood why someone was cruel to those they promised to love. However, cruelty was something those who came to the shelter for help, knew far too well.

Jim once asked her why she volunteered at the battered woman's shelter when there were other charities to fill her time. Alisha told him she knew all the statistics of abuse and the politics involved, but none of that mattered to her. She simply knew they needed someone who cared and wanted to help them escape from a life of abuse.

Alisha's heart broke whenever she saw the sad and tormented faces of the children, and how they did not understand why their mommy was always hurt and crying.

Alisha refused to turn her back on such pain and sorrow, and even more so now that she was beginning the next step in her life.

Earlier that day, Alisha learned she was pregnant. She did not want to tell Jim the news on the telephone. She wanted to wait for him to return from his trip, and then give him the exciting news.

Once he knew, they would plan a dinner party and make the announcement to both of their parents. Alisha was beside herself with joy. Her life was perfect, and nothing could spoil the way she felt today.

***

While Alisha relaxed on the chaise lounge, sipping the last of her wine, she marveled at how soon she would be a mother. It surprised her when the doctor informed her an occasional small glass of red wine before bed would not hurt the baby. He said it would help her to relax, and after receiving the news of her pregnancy, she knew she would never be able to sleep.

As Alisha lay back, enjoying the peace and quiet, she slipped off into a peaceful slumber with a vision in her mind of the sweet child growing inside her.

Alisha floated to sleep, feeling nothing but joy. She had the perfect husband, and now they were going to have the child they had both longed to have.

Alisha slept peacefully with no idea a stranger had crushed sleeping pills and put them in her wine. She also never imagined she was now a piece in his game of death.

***

The man knew she would drink the wine during her bath. When he prepared the wine, he anxiously awaited the outcome this particular move would have on the game. He enjoyed learning intimate details of his chosen pieces. Knowing private information always helped him perfect his moves.

Everything is proceeding as planned; he smiled.

***

Now that she was unconscious, it was time to set the rest of this move in motion. He opened her laptop and began to type her suicide note to Jim.

Jim,

I received a phone call after we hung up from a woman who told me our marriage was a lie. I have always believed in your faithfulness, but she convinced me I was wrong. She informed me of your steamy affair. She told me about the earrings she left in your coat pocket, and of the hotel receipts that would prove the truth of your many rendezvous.

She made it quite clear while I may have your name, I do not have your heart. Then she went on to say I never did. She told me how you would laugh at how easy it was to fool my father and how it was only a matter of time before you were running the firm. She even said the two of you make love in our bed while I'm working at the shelter.

She enjoyed telling me all the dirty details of your affair. However, I believe she enjoyed informing me the most of how she wears the necklace with my family crest and a pair of my silk stockings when you make love to her.

When I accused her of lying, she laughed and said, I needed to look under the mattress of our bed. Do you know what I found there, my dear? I found the necklace wrapped in a pair of my silk stockings!

I want you to know I plan to have the final laugh. I will also make sure the two of you never know happiness again. You see, if we were to divorce, I know my father will be angry. The problem is he respects you as a lawyer, so I know he would eventually forgive you.

However, if I kill myself because of your indiscretion, he will never forgive you. My father is a very powerful man, so he will destroy you both professionally and personally. You will lose everything, and that bitch will get nothing!

You see, I plan to have the last laugh. I am taking control of things now! I want the world to know the man you truly are, but mostly I want them to know why I made my choice.

You see, I know something you don't. I went to the doctor today, and I received some very exciting news – I'm pregnant.

For so long, we have both longed for a child, but there is no way I will share this child with a lying, cheat like you! I will keep our child with me, and you will live with that knowledge for the rest of your pitiful life. You may have made me a fool in life, but I will destroy you in death.

Alisha

***

The man, of course, had not known about the pregnancy when he came to the house that afternoon, but he had to admit it pleased him to learn of this glorious development. It pleased him how sometimes fate would deal him a hand to make a move even more attractive.

He enjoyed watching her pat her belly while she talked to the child in her womb. The pregnancy was an unexpected, crown jewel in this move, and an added a twist that thoroughly delighted him.

***

After completing the note, he left the screen open, and then he began preparing her for the next step in this move. He paused a moment, marveling how at peace she looked with the knowledge of a child growing inside her belly.

She truly is a thing of beauty, lying there in a silk gown with her long hair cascading on the side of the lounger.

He leaned down and carefully positioned the locket on the gold chain around her neck. There my lovely, we must not forget this.

She was still alive though barely, when he placed the last of the sleeping pills into her mouth, then gave her the last small sip of wine from her glass.

He stepped back and looked down at her. Sleep well, my beauty.

He smiled, knowing the effect this move would have on those involved. I almost feel sorry for your husband. What will he think when he comes home and finds the empty bottle of pills sitting next to your empty wine glass?

Next, he placed the earrings he had brought with him on the table next to Alisha and then tossed a pair of her silk stockings on the floor next to the bed.

Once he knew everything was in place, he whispered in her ear. Sleep now, my beauty. You will be with your precious child for all eternity. These words brought a smile to her lips as she took her last breath.

He was sure the look on her face would confuse the police. Why would a woman kill herself, yet die with a look of complete tranquility? He always enjoyed adding little details such as these to each move. Perfection was of the utmost importance, and this move was perfect in every detail.

He looked around the room one last time, assuring not to have forgotten even the slightest detail, and then he took a picture of her lying on the lounger for the next stage of The Game.
Chapter 13

Even Beauty Dies

John arrived at work late the next morning. The shower helped some, but his head was still pounding like a jackhammer. He went straight to his desk as he was in no mood to answer any questions concerning his rough appearance. John reached for a case folder when he noticed something happening across the room.

What is going on? He pushed the folder aside and walked toward the gathered group to see what was so interesting. As he got closer, he realized several officers were watching the television in the lunchroom.

The news reporter spoke of a local lawyer who returned home from a business trip and found his wife was dead of an apparent suicide. The reporter said she had left a suicide note, and there was no evidence of foul play.

John's breath caught in his throat when a picture of the dead woman flashed on the television screen.

Oh, my God, it is her! He stood with his eyes transfixed on the screen, not sure of what to think about this shocking development.

Officer Joe Martinez was standing next to John and noticed the strange expression on his face. "Hey John, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am fine. What happened here?"

"The wife of some hotshot attorney killed herself. From the report, the husband must have been cheating on her, and she found out. You know something, I don't understand people. With a beautiful woman like her waiting at home for you, why would you need to cheat? What a waste, she sure was a looker. I guess the husband came home early this morning and found her. Sam is handling the case, but it all seems clear-cut. Hell, from what I heard, she left a note explaining everything," Joe shook his head.

"Yeah, that's a shame. Well, I need to get back to work. All the damn paperwork on these latest cases is piled up on my desk." In truth, what John wanted to do was find out everything he could about this supposed suicide.

***

On the walk to Sam's office, John tried to shake the vision of the woman from his mind.

Damn, she was the next piece in the game, but why? A sickening feeling washed over him. Crap, did that woman die because of me?

When John got to Sam's office, he noticed a man sitting in the chair across from Sam's desk. The man was crying with his face cupped in his hands while Sam did his best to console him.

"Mr. Miller, I know this has to be painful for you, but your wife, unfortunately, chose a very permanent solution to a temporary problem. No matter what you may have done away from home, suicide is never the answer." Sam knew his words were empty, but he did not know what else he could say to ease the man's pain.

"I don't understand why she believed I was cheating on her. I have never cheated! I love my wife, and I have no idea where those earrings came from or whose they are. None of this makes any sense to me. We have always been happy," Jim's voice quivered as he fought to hold back the tears.

"Well, apparently she was not too happy finding out about your girlfriend. You read her note, it's all there," Sam picked up a copy of the note printed on her computer and looked at it again.

"The note, I cannot believe she would say all those terrible things," Jim cried.

"Sir, I know this is all very overwhelming for you, but you need to come to grips with the situation. I know a man can find himself caught up in the thrill of something exciting and dangerous, and before he knows it, he's destroyed his life. You need to accept that she believed you were cheating, and, unfortunately, she could not live with it."

Sam saw the man's pain, and he felt sorry for him, but he knew he had much more to face than the death of his wife. "I spoke with your father-in-law, and he's quite upset. I sure wouldn't want to be in your shoes right now," Sam shook his head.

"I know my life is over, but I don't understand how this happened. Alisha would never hurt herself after learning we were going to have a baby. We've been trying for several months to conceive, and she was looking forward to motherhood more than anything. She would never harm our baby!" The look on Jim's face was a mixture of confusion and pain. He sat quietly and looked down at his trembling hands with a voice screaming in his mind, This is a terrible dream, wake up!

The problem was he was awake and living in a nightmare, of which there was no escape. Alisha had taken her life, and he would live the rest of his life, knowing she died hating him.

"Well, sir, you need to go and make preparations for your wife's funeral. I'll let you know the autopsy results, but I wouldn't anticipate a different outcome. There was no sign of foul play, so it appears she just took the sleeping pills and fell asleep. You know the strangest thing is there was no fear on her face; in fact, she looked at peace. I'm sorry you're going through this, but that's all I need from you now. I will be in touch if anything changes," Sam looked at the distraught man sitting across from him and prayed he would survive this ordeal.

Jim slowly stood with his shoulders drooping, an empty shell of a man. He hesitated for a moment, turned, and then walked out of the door without saying another word. Now a mere shadow of the man he was the day before when his life was full and his future bright.

***

John suddenly felt nauseous, Was this what the caller was referring to last night?

"What brings you here today, John? Please, have a seat." Sam motioned toward the chair where the heart-broken husband had sat just moments before.

John sat in the offered chair, unsure of where to begin. "I know you'll probably think I'm crazy, but may I see a picture of the suicide victim taken at the scene? There's a chance I may know something about this case."

"Sure, here you go." Sam opened the folder on his desk and handed John one of the pictures from inside.

"This is how her husband found her. She sure was beautiful, and the scene seemed staged like something out of an old movie," Sam closed the folder, pushed it aside, and then looked back to John. "Why are you interested, you're not on this case?"

John took the photo and carefully examined it, ignoring the question. There she was in the silk gown and the unusual looking necklace, just as she was in the email. John's hands began to shake, and his body went deathly cold.

"Hey, you don't look too good. What's going on, did you know her?" Sam reached for the photo, as it dropped from John's hands, landing on the desktop.

"No, I never... Hey, what would you say if I told you I saw this very picture last night?" He knew trying to explain how he had seen it before would be next to impossible.

"Well, I would say it would be impossible since I took this picture myself just this morning. There's no way you saw it last night, John. What is going on here? Are you trying to tell me you're some a physic now?" Sam laughed as he put the picture back in the folder. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but this woman killed herself because she found out her husband was cheating, and there is nothing more to it. John, I know it's sad, but it does happen. Hell, you know we see things like this all the time. Maybe you need to go home and clear your head. You don't look good; in fact, you look as though you went on quite a bender last night. Lay off the sauce, John; it makes you see things."

John stood and left Sam's office without saying another word. It frustrated him how no one would listen to him, but he was not surprised. Hell, he had a difficult time believing all of this himself.

First, they found Charles Everett with a dead prostitute in the trunk of his car, along with all the evidence to convict him of multiple murders. Everyone seemed thrilled with how the case came together since there was no question as to his guilt. With the trial scheduled to begin in a few weeks, all bets were on a solid conviction.

The second incident of the two men at the internet company, and now this latest one all seemed a little too coincidental. Each appeared to have no apparent connection, except for one thing; the strange caller.

"He told me to get busy, or I'd be left behind, so what now?" John knew the only way to figure everything out was to start at the beginning.

***

John decided his first step would be to visit Charles at the jail. Maybe questioning him again would shed some light on things. John grabbed his car keys and walked out to his car for another talk with Mr. Charles Everett.
Chapter 14

Little Secrets

"No one treats me in this manner. I'm a man of power and influence in this town!" To be sitting in jail, facing multiple murder charges for crimes he knew he did not commit, was unthinkable for Charles. "What's wrong with all of you? I didn't kill anyone!"

With each passing hour, Charles saw his dreams of the future slipping away. His wife had filed for a divorce, and his associates at the city hall refused to have anything to do with him. Hell, even his lawyer did not believe him.

That son-of-a-bitch charges me $500 an hour and has the balls to tell me to take an insanity plea! Charles groaned. There is no way I will plead guilty to anything. I'm innocent!

His lawyer informed him how it did not help him that some pictures had surfaced of him on his last business trip to Mexico. The pictures were of him in some questionable poses with underage prostitutes.

"Fine, I enjoy playing with little toys, but that doesn't make me a serial killer!" Charles protested.

Charles was careful to ensure his playtime was done far away from home. With an image to protect, he knew he must not let his activities become common knowledge.

"Damn, I guess it was stupid for me to keep them in my home safe, but I've always enjoyed having them around for a quick peek. Hell, with all the pressure I face daily, it's nice to have them around for a little release from time to time," Charles snickered at seeing the shocked look on his lawyer's face.

For years, Charles laughed at how easy it was to fool people. It did not matter what lies he told, the voters believed each one of them, as long as he said them with enthusiasm and conviction.

Hell, I almost believed all the crap about cleansing the city. It was simply good politics, and besides, the voters loved it, he chuckled silently.

If none of this had happened, he would have been a shoo-in for mayor in the upcoming election. However, now, it was all gone.

I may have done many cruel and even illegal things on my climb to the top, but I never killed anyone! Someone set me up, but whom and why?

Charles knew one thing for sure; things were not looking good for him. In fact, he was convinced they would find him guilty of numerous heinous crimes, all of which he did not do.

***

On the drive to the jail, John mulled over what he would say. Even though the case appeared closed with the arrest, John still was not so sure.

Was there really someone staging crimes for the sake of a game? Even more importantly, what did the caller want from him? Was it possible his role was to catch the real murderer as part of The Game?

Over the years, John had heard of serial killers planting clues to their identity; only he left none. Everything appeared to point a guilty finger at the intended target, making the case a detective's dream. No questions asked; everything tied up in a nice, neat package. John never doubted the evidence; however, this time, he worried it would be a grave mistake.

***

The interrogation room was small and cold. A metal table covered in worn chipped paint sat in the center of the room with two uncomfortable chairs placed on opposite sides.

Charles glared at John from across the table, curious as to why the additional questions regarding his case. "Okay, Detective, you asked to see me. It's your time, what the hell do you want with me now?"

John was not sure how to begin. After the arrest, he had asked around if there was a chance, someone framed Everett, and he, in fact, was innocent. Of course, no one wanted to entertain the idea of Everett's innocence.

Charles, as well as the multiple murder cases, was a thorn in the side of the city officials for far too long. Therefore, they gleefully ignored any questions of his possible innocence. The fact the killer turned out to be the pain-in-the-ass, Charles Everett made it even better. Apparently, he had ruffled a few feathers throughout the years, and his being arrested for the murders brought great joy to several on the city council, and, of course, the mayor.

John looked at Charles, cleared his throat, and began, "Well, I'm not sure how to start. You've said from the beginning you have no idea how the young woman and the jeweled box got into the trunk of your car. I know all the evidence points to you, but..."

"But what, Detective, are you saying you believe me now?" Charles leaned forward and placed his hands on the table in front of him. "Well, unless you've come up with some new evidence, any belief in my innocence is worthless. If you'd been doing your job in the first place, I never would have been framed, and the real killer would be sitting here instead of me!"

The emotions surging through Charles took him to an unfamiliar place: into a realm of pure hopelessness.

"I have lost everything, Detective. I've lost my name, my marriage, and my future. Somehow, my wife found my little collection of pictures I kept in my safe." A new expression appeared on his face, one of both embarrassment and anger.

"Someone called and told her where to find them. I'd like to know who the bastard is; I had no idea anyone knew about them other than myself. Apparently, she filed for divorce as soon as she saw them. I guess she has a problem with being married to a convicted serial killer, and a pervert," Charles scoffed.

"So, unless you have found some evidence of my innocence, you're wasting my time." He looked at John, waiting for a response, but when none came, he stood and motioned for the guard. "I think we're finished here."

The guard opened the door and waited, "You finished here?"

"Yes, I think we have covered everything. Goodbye, Detective," Charles disappeared through the door, never looking back.

John knew he should have told Charles of the mysterious caller, but he also knew it would not make a difference. He did not blame Charles for being upset. With all his doubts, John was upset as well.

Charles did bring up something interesting, though. I wonder who found his pictures then told his wife about them. Maybe I should look more into this.

John sat for a moment, going through everything Charles had said. "Those pictures must be a clue." John stood and walked out to his car.

Pulling out of the parking lot, John knew one thing for sure; he needed to learn the story of those pictures and the soon to be ex-Mrs. Charles Everett was the one with the answers.

***

A half-hour later, John found himself driving up the long driveway to the Everett estate. He had always marveled at the beauty of this section of Philadelphia with its perfectly manicured yards and neatly maintained houses. Convinced each was, at least, a hundred years old, he knew many prominent people must have lived there throughout the years.

As John pulled up to the Everett house, he noticed its beauty with the sculptured columns and large wraparound porch. He knew by its appearance it belonged to a family of wealth and power.

John heard of how Charles married a wealthy, older woman, and then used her family name and fortune to advance his political ambitions.

Wondering if it were wise to come, John pulled down the long driveway toward the house. John knew he would never rest until he knew the truth of the pictures, and who told Mrs. Everett, where she could find them.

Oh well, the worst thing, which can happen, is she won't talk to me, he laughed to himself.

John parked his car and walked to the front door. "Please forgive me for this, Mrs. Everett," he groaned as he rang the doorbell and waited.

After a few moments, an older, well-dressed man opened the door.

"Hello, my name is Detective John Cooper. May I speak with Mrs. Everett," John said, doing his best to remain calm.

"Please follow me, Detective." The butler stood aside without saying another word then motioned, letting John know to follow him.

The Butler then led John to a room on the right of the entry hall and pointed to a chair sitting across from a large window.

"Please wait here, and I will tell Mrs. Everett she has a visitor."

John nodded and then walked to the chair as the butler closed the door behind him.

The room was small, yet comfortable with two high-backed antique chairs sitting in front of the large window. John took a moment to admire the intricate carvings on the wooden legs and armrests before sitting on the one closest to the door. "It's a shame you can't find furniture of this quality any longer."

As John waited for Mrs. Everett, he looked around the room. He noticed the elegant decorations with the focus of the room on a large, family portrait hanging above the fireplace. Then the grandfather clock standing in the corner caught his attention when it chimed the hour.

John had been waiting for several minutes when an elegant, older woman entered the room. He stood and waited until she sat in the chair across from him.

Clara Everett was a delicate woman, and from all appearances, she seemed a woman of social standing. John glanced up, then saw the butler walk back into the room and stand by the door.

Clara turned to John, "Detective Cooper, please excuse the wait. As I'm sure you must know, I've been busy lately. Please sit and make yourself comfortable. Before we begin, may I offer you a beverage?"

"No, thank you, I am fine," John smiled. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

"Very well; if you are sure," she motioned, excusing the butler to leave. "Thank you, Gerald."

"Very well, Mrs. Everett, as you wish." The butler bowed his head slightly, then turned and left the room.

Once Gerald had left the room, Clara turned to John, her eyes meeting his with a questioning look. "How may I help you today, Detective?"

John swallowed, and then began, "Mrs. Everett, I went to speak to your husband today. He told me you received a telephone call about some pictures he had in his office safe. Would you mind telling me who called you?"

Clara held her emotions well. Taught a lady should never show emotion in front of strangers, she struggled as a small tear in the corner of her eye gave her feelings away.

"I have no idea who it was. They called and told me there was proof of my husband's innocence in his safe, and I was desperate to help clear his name. Charles has never been a loving husband, but I did believe in his character. He had always been a man of integrity and honesty, or so I thought."

Clara lowered her eyes in shame. She had trusted him with everything - her money, her good name, her very life. Now, forced to endure a lengthy trial and have her personal life on display for all to see, Clara felt as though everything she believed in was a lie.

When the caller told her, there was proof of Charles' innocence locked in his safe, her heart had raced with relief. However, she never expected to find what she did, and it broke her heart when she saw the pictures. Charles was a sickening animal, and Clara decided to have nothing more to do with him.

John saw the pain in her eyes, but he had to know the truth, so he pushed onward. "Mrs. Everett, I am sorry about all of this. I know it must be very painful, but I need to know who called you about the pictures."

Clara lifted her eyes again to meet his and somehow summoned the inner strength to speak. "Yes, I know, and I'm truly sorry."

"When I opened the safe and saw the pictures, I knew he was guilty," she lifted her chin, attempting to hold back the tears, but they now flowed freely down her cheeks.

"My family has been friends with the mayor for many years, so I called him about what I should do. I was thankful when he hurried over to get them." She paused a moment, gathering her strength, "I hope I never see them again. They were horrible and utterly repulsive!"

So, that's how they got leaked. It makes total sense now. The mayor was probably thrilled to get rid of the competition. He had taken a lot of heat in the media because of the killings, so the outcome was perfect for ridding himself of a political challenger as well. Politics can be so dirty; John thought to himself.

John returned his attention to Mrs. Everett. "Yes, Ma'am, I am sure it was painful for you to find them. Did the caller by chance give you a name, or did you recognize the voice?"

"I have never heard his voice before. He was soft-spoken, though, with no particular accent. He did give me his name. What was it, he said? Oh yes, I remember now, he said his name was John."

Clara gave John a questioning look, "How odd, isn't that your name?"

His name was John? Her words hit him between the eyes with such force; he felt as if his head would split in half.

The caller must be the same man calling me! Somehow, he found out about the pictures and called Mrs. Everett using my name, but why? How would using my name help him in his game? Unless there's a message, I am supposed to interpret.

The emotions now bubbling up inside of John was nearly uncontrollable. He tried to hide his surprise, but Clara noticed it on his face.

"Detective Cooper, are you, all right? You look flushed. Are you sure you don't need something cold to drink?" She frowned, and then reached for the buzzer on the table next to her chair.

"No, thank you, Ma'am, I am fine. I appreciate your time, but I need to go. I hope things get better for you. You appear to be a very lovely woman, and you don't deserve any of this. I need to get going, so I'll show myself out."

John stood and walked toward the door, trying not to show the emotions surging through his body, "Thank you again for everything. I appreciate all the help you have been."

He rushed outside to his car with his mind spinning wildly. I can't believe the caller told Mrs. Everett that his name was John; my name! Why would he do that? Was it a hint? Was it a secret message to let me know this was another part of the game, or was it a way of letting me know I need to step up and get busy?

The questions swam around in his mind, as he got into his car. When he reached for the ignition, his cell phone began to ring. "Detective Cooper."

"Well done, John, I'm glad to see you are finally playing the game. I'm pleased you figured out the next move," the voice was calm and reassuring.

"It was you who called her, wasn't it? How did you know about the pictures, and why did you use my name?" John felt the anger building up inside of him to a dangerous point. All he wanted to do, was get his hands around the throat of this arrogant ass and crush the life out of him.

"Of course, it was me, John. I told you I had chosen you to be my opponent in this game. As for the pictures, I learned of them the same way I did about your past. With each little piece in our game was planned perfectly, this is only the beginning, John. Framing Mr. Everett was simple. He was a corrupt and evil man, who put his personal needs, above all else," the caller paused a moment, allowing this all to sink into John's mind.

"Next, it was easy to convince a weak man that his longtime friend had betrayed him by framing him for embezzlement. Lastly, I convinced the world a beautiful woman killed herself and her unborn child. Now everyone believes her husband strayed, and slept with another woman, causing her to commit suicide," the caller's voice took on a tone of sadness, even though John knew better.

"John, these are all parts of The Game. As for using your name, I just couldn't resist. I thought it would add a delightful touch to your visit with the charming Mrs. Everett, do you not agree? John, you were a slow starter, so I thought using it might motivate you. You are a critical part of the game, so I wanted you to know that you cannot escape until we're finished playing. So, toughen up, John, for we have much more to play." The phone went dead.

John quickly looked at the received calls screen on his cell phone, and it showed the last call received was from Kathy. "What the hell? That cannot be right!"

On the drive back to the department, John worried if he did not learn how to stop The Game, it would lead to the destruction of more lives.

***

John no sooner sat at his desk when he received a message to go to the Captain's office. Captain Tom Riggs was a tough, old bird, and a real stick-to-the-book type.

"Come in, John. I've been waiting for you. We seem to have a little problem." Tom motioned, inviting John to sit in the chair across from his desk.

By the tone of Tom's voice, John realized he was upset. "A problem, what's going on?"

"I understand you made a couple of visits today on the Everett case. Now, we both know it was useless. Just what do you think you were doing? I want you to stay out of this, John. Your part in the case is over until the trial." The look on Tom's face clearly showed his displeasure.

"Sir, I believe this case needs to remain open. I know no one wants to hear this, but we have the wrong man. Someone framed Charles Everett for killing those women. I know he's scum, but I don't believe he killed those women," John's voice cracked from the frustration.

How can I prove someone framed Charles when all the evidence clearly points to his guilt? The words screamed in John's mind as he struggled to think of how to convince Tom.

"John, I have no idea what you're referring to. All the evidence clearly points to Everett. We found the body in the trunk of his car, along with the box containing the nipples from the other victims. Hell, we even learned the jeweled box belonged to his wife. It's some family heirloom or something, and the mayor recognized it immediately. He said he'd seen it numerous times at the Everett's house. Apparently, it had been in Mrs. Everett's family for years, and her son used it to hide his plastic soldiers when he was a child."

Tom leaned forward, looking John directly in the eyes, "John, it is over. There will be no more of those terrible killings because we have the man who did them locked up in our jail. I don't know what you're trying to do by going to his wife and upsetting her, but it was out of line. The poor woman has been through enough already! Maybe you need some time off to clear your head of all this foolishness. I believe a week should do. Am I making myself clear?" His voice was firm, as anger and disappointment shone on his face.

"Yes, sir; I understand." John knew there was no use in arguing with Tom. The disappointed look on his face said it all.

Tom was there with John during the difficult weeks after Ray's death. John had struggled with guilt and painful memories, but Tom supported him through his darkest days without judgment. John hated to see the look of disappointment in his eyes, but he could not help what he believed.

"John, I don't know what's going on in your head, but you need to get yourself straightened out, son. I sure hope you aren't having problems again. Is there anything you need to talk about?"

"No, I just thought there might be more to the case than we've found. I know you're right. Maybe some time off, to regroup and clear my head, is a good idea? Thank you for understanding." John stood and then walked back to his desk to gather his things.

Tom is right; maybe some time off is just what I need to prove the cases are not as they appear.

John wanted to tell Tom everything, but with no proof, he knew it was senseless? He decided to use this time to find the mystery caller and prove everything they believed about the cases was wrong.

John took a deep breath; You want me to play your game; let's play!
Chapter 15

John Joins the Game

Kathy was not due to return home for two days, so John decided to use this time to catch the caller before someone else died. He also knew he had to do it before Kathy found out what he was up to because she would never understand. Okay, where do I begin?

He knew his opponent was smart and patient because it would take the time to set up each of the pieces as he called them. He would also have to gather inside information on each of his victims, which would include access to the computers in their homes and their workplaces. Then he would need to learn the security codes for their alarm systems as he did on the one in John's house.

John tried to remember everything the caller said about The Game.

I know he takes his time to set up each move, but what makes him choose his pieces? He said he carefully chooses each one, but what makes them exceptional. Why choose them and not someone else?

First, the city councilman, second the two businessmen, and then the attorney and his wife. None of them seems connected in any obvious way. They all appear chosen randomly, but he is smarter than that. He said he picked them for a particular reason, but what was it? John scratched his head as his thoughts spun wildly.

He also said he specifically chose me to be the tracker, but that makes no sense. I have no ties to any of the others involved in his game.

"Hell, the only one of them, that I've even heard of before all of this, started was Charles Everett," John moaned.

He had watched a few campaign commercials when Charles ran for office, but nothing more than that. As for the rest of them, John had no clue, but somehow all of this tied together.

Well, I guess it's up to me to solve this mystery, but first, I need to go home and do some research so I can learn some more about them.

***

The house seemed empty with Kathy gone. John was tired, but he knew he only had two days to solve this before she returned home from Florida. Tom was right about one thing, though; he needed to pull himself together.

This whole thing left John confused. Why would he kill people, and then frame someone else for it if there were no personal gain involved?

Over the years, John wondered what drove serial killers to commit their crimes. From most research in the field, they seemed to react to some deep-seated need for self-gratification. Unfortunately, this did not give the impression of being like any of those.

"Okay, you bastard, what are you doing? There has to be something I'm missing, but what is it?"

Realizing he was hungry, John walked to the kitchen and looked in the refrigerator for something to eat when the phone rang, "Hello."

"Hello, Sweetheart. How are you tonight; do you miss me yet?" Kathy always missed John when she traveled out of town on business, so she was thrilled to talk with him.

John smiled at the sound of her voice. How does she always seem to know when I need her?

Kathy was a smart and dedicated psychologist. She loved her work, and with not having children of her own, she found working with troubled youth filled the void in her heart.

John and Kathy had always said they had the perfect relationship. They both understood the demand their jobs took their time, but they always managed to sense when the other one needed comforting.

***

When first married, John was a beat cop, and Kathy had recently graduated from college and was working as a counselor for abused children. John was proud of the work she did. He always joked how she saved kids from having to face him.

"John, you protect my kids from the cruelty of those who are supposed to love them, so I guess that makes us a great team."

***

The sound of her voice on the telephone calmed John's nerves. "I'm all right, honey; I'm just a little tired. How is the conference going? Have you spent any time at the beach yet?"

"It's going fine, I guess. The lectures seem to drag on forever, and, as usual, are quite dull. The one today had several of us nodding off," she laughed.

Kathy never enjoyed sitting for hours and listening to a boring speaker.

"You didn't fall out of your chairs, did you?" John snickered.

"No, silly. We did sneak out early, though, and spent some time at the beach this afternoon. You should be proud of me; I left the beach with no sunburn. That's pretty good, huh?" Kathy giggled.

"No, you were just lucky. You do remember the last time you went to the beach, don't you? You couldn't wear a bra for nearly a week if I recall correctly," he laughed at the memory of her not wanting to leave the house.

"Yeah, but why did you have to remind me of that? Anyhow, what's going on at home, anything interesting?"

John wanted to tell her everything, but he knew she would only worry. "As a matter of fact, things broke wide open in that case I've been working on with an arrest today."

"Oh John, you caught the person who has been killing those poor women?" The pride was evident in her voice.

"No, I didn't make the arrest, but we have the killer in jail, and you will never believe who it is: Charles Everett. You know, the city councilman?" he tried to hide the doubt in his voice.

Kathy was shocked at the news. "You've got to be kidding me, isn't he the one always saying the city needs to be cleaned up for the decent people who live there?"

"That's the one, but no one ever expected he would be the one doing the cleaning. To learn it was him murdering those women caught all of us by surprise."

I wonder what she would say if she knew everything. Would she think me crazy if I told her of the telephone calls and emails informing me of how the deaths were all part of an elaborate game? Would she believe me if I told her that I was an unwilling participant in that game?

John knew it was for the best to keep Kathy out of this mess; therefore, he must solve it before she returned home.

The news surprised Kathy. She knew the killings had been quite gruesome, so it was difficult to imagine some such as Charles Everett arrested for their murders.

When the bodies began turning up, John asked her to explain why a person would become a serial killer, and what drove them to act out their twisted fantasies.

"I wish I could tell you how the human mind can harbor such cruelty and rage, but I can't, John. I've never treated anyone with such deep, emotional scars and repressed anger, and to be honest with you, I hope I never do."

Kathy gasped at the news of the killer being Charles Everett. "Oh, how awful; didn't he marry a wealthy, older woman? The poor woman must be beside herself with shock and grief!"

"Yes, he is, and she happens to be a very lovely woman. I went to talk to her today, hoping she could answer some important questions. She's trying to be strong, but you can tell she's heartbroken."

John hated not telling Kathy the real reason he met with Mrs. Everett, but he knew it would only upset her.

"Well, at least, the killings will stop now. It's a relief to have a monster like him locked up where he cannot hurt anyone again. John, I miss you, and I can't wait to come home."

"I miss you too, sweetheart. You only have two more days in beautiful Miami, so please try to enjoy yourself some, okay?"

John needed to be careful not to alert Kathy, or she would come home early and ruin his plans. She always seemed to sense when he was upset. If she thought he needed her, she would be on the first flight home.

"I know you're right. A few of the girls were thinking of going out for dinner and drinks tonight, so maybe I'll go with them."

"That's a great idea. Now, why don't you get yourself all prettied up and go have a great time with your friends? I'll be okay." He said a silent prayer she believed his deception.

"Okay, I will. I promise to behave myself and keep all the sexy, tanned hunks at arm's length," she teased. "I love you. Goodnight, and I'll call tomorrow evening."

"You better," John laughed, envisioning her sweet face glowing a soft shade of red. "Goodnight and I love you, too."

John hung up the telephone and walked back to the refrigerator. "Let's see what we have in here."

John grabbed a bowl of grapes to snack on when the telephone rang again. "Did you forget something, sweetie?" He laughed but was surprised when the voice on the phone was not Kathy.

"How precious, now I'm a sweetie? How sweet of you to call me that, but I don't believe we know each other well enough for such familiarity," the voice teased at hearing John groan.

"The reason I called was I've learned some rather fascinating news. I understand your captain suspended you for a week. Were you a bad boy today, John?"

"I don't want to talk to you right now. Besides, what happens at my job is none of your damn business! I decided to take some time off, that's all." John hated how he always seemed one step ahead of him.

"Come on, John, we both know the truth. Your Captain told you to take a week off to pull yourself together. I understand Captain Riggs is upset about your little trips today," the voice taunted once more.

"How do you know about that? Who are you, and why are you doing this?" John yelled, the frustration exploding out of him.

"You know who I am. I am your opponent in The Game, but if you insist on a name, you may call me, Erebus. Come on, John; please don't crack up on me this soon. We have so much more to do before the end of this game. Have you figured out what your part is yet?" The voice now took on a serious tone.

"Yes, I have. I'm supposed to catch your sorry ass and lock it up for good!" John snickered, feeling a renewed sense of control.

"That's a fascinating theory, but incorrect. Keep trying, though; I know you'll figure it out. I have complete faith in your abilities as a detective, John. Now, I want you to enjoy the rest of your evening, and we'll talk again soon. Goodnight." The phone went dead.

"I need to go somewhere to think," John groaned. He grabbed his car keys and walked out to his car. "And I know just the place."
Chapter 16

Run to the Past

"Well, I'll be damned if it isn't Detective John Cooper; long time, no see." John immediately recognized the deep voice from behind the bar, dripping with a thick Brooklyn accent.

"How's it going, Leo? I thought I'd come by for a visit." John had hoped he could sneak in unnoticed, but nothing got past Leo in his bar.

John spent long hours at Leo's bar after Ray's death, drowning his feelings of guilt and regret with whiskey. Leo's bar was the perfect place to come and work out any problems eating at your soul.

"Come here and have a seat." Leo grabbed a shot glass and filled it with John's favorite whiskey then set it in front of him. Leo had always liked John, so he was pleased to see him stop by again.

"Here you go, one on the house for old time's sake. How have things been with you lately? I saw you on the television a year ago when you busted that gang who was killing those little girls. You did an excellent job. I always knew you had it in you."

"Thanks." John lifted the shot glass to his lips and drank it in one swallow. It felt warm and comforting, which was something he needed now.

"That was one for the books, wasn't it?" John pushed the glass toward Leo for a refill.

"It sure was. Hey, what about that councilman? I bet that surprised all them down there at City Hall, huh? You never know about people. Hell, maybe there's someone like that in here right now. Just look at this crowd," Leo laughed and then poured John another shot.

"Let's hope not because I am off duty tonight. I had a rough day, and all I want to do is forget it." He lifted the shot glass to his lips and drank the second one down, as quickly as the first.

"No problem. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yeah, here are my car keys, and would you call me a cab at closing time?" John took his keys out of his pants pocket and handed them to Leo. He then reached for the bottle of whiskey and empty shot glass.

"I'll take these with me," he smiled then walked toward a table in the back corner of the bar. "Make sure I'm not bothered. I have some thinking to do."

"No problem, and I'll make sure you get home safely." Leo picked up the keys and put them behind the bar in an empty beer mug.

"Thank you, Leo. I just want to relax and do some thinking."

John was in no mood for idle conversation. He only wanted to sit in the shadows and watch people come and go. He had always found it relaxing to watch people go about their activities, and what a better place than in the local bar.
Chapter 17

One for the Books

Damn, I almost forgot about that case.

John poured himself another shot of whiskey and closed his eyes as the memories of the case flowed into his mind.

***

It was another difficult case. The mutilated bodies of several young girls were turning up on the streets of Philadelphia, causing terror to grip the city. The media had pushed the idea of a serial killer on the loose, but John did not agree with that theory.

One day after arresting a junkie for the murder of a cashier during a convenience store robbery, John got the break he needed. The shooter had offered a clue to the deaths of the girls in exchange for a break on his case.

He informed John of a new gang that moved into the area and how they were the ones killing the little girls. John, of course, had already known of the gang but questioned their involvement. John had heard they sold illegal drugs and committed robberies.

However, the shooter mentioned something that caught John's attention. "But you don't know everything about them. To join the gang, they must first draw innocent blood."

He went on to describe the only way to join this gang was to find a random victim. He explained how they chose young girls for the shock value. They would kill them in the most gruesome way imaginable, and then leave the bodies in parks and parking lots. The thing that struck a nerve with John was how they kept something from each victim, as proof of their kill.

The other detectives working the case believed the junkie was making everything up to help himself, but John had a gut feeling there was more to his story.

Hell, there are no other clues in the cases, so what do we have to lose. Besides, I don't want another murdered girl found.

With this new information, John began to look at the cases from an entirely new perspective. He pressured some of his informants to give him the scoop on this new gang, but they did not want to talk out of fear of ending up like the victims. John finally got the break he was waiting for when a woman came forward with information on the killings.

Louisa and her two sons arrived in Philadelphia from Costa Rica five years ago. She lost her oldest son when he joined the neighborhood gang and died in a shooting two years earlier. She told John she was willing to do anything to protect her youngest son, Reggie, from meeting the same fate.

Her story matched the one the junkie had told, so John knew she was telling the truth. She told John the gang was trying to recruit her youngest son, and he was running out of time, as you did not say no to them for very long. This information was the break John needed to crack the case wide open.

John knew it would be dangerous for Reggie and Louisa. If there were even the slightest slip-up, the gang would kill them without giving it a second thought.

John convinced Louisa to have Reggie wear a wire to one of their gatherings, where he hoped the gang members would order Reggie to kill a young girl as part of his initiation into the gang. He also hoped they would talk about all the previous murders committed. After hours of planning and preparation, the night finally arrived.

John's nervous was on edge as he placed the wires on Reggie. He also wondered if he was doing the right thing by sending this young man into the gang's home turf.

"Are you sure you know what to do?" John asked as he attached the last of the wires.

"Yes, sir, I need to remember not to draw too much attention to myself, and once the bust goes down, get out of there." John could tell Reggie was scared, but he had to respect his courage.

As the time grew closer, John prayed things would go smoothly, and no one got hurt.

***

It was an unusually warm night for October. The air was thick, which only added to the discomfort and tension, as everyone took their positions. Louisa was forced to stay at the station, much to her dismay. She had begged John to let her go along, but he knew if things began to go bad, she would only endanger her son.

John went over the plan again with Reggie, then he took his position and waited.

The group had already gathered, and John could see they were feeling cocky and pleased with themselves. It angered him the way they went on about how they were free to do whatever they wanted, and there was no one to stop them.

"Enjoy yourselves, for now, you assholes," John whispered.

Reggie joined the group, welcomed with shouts and slaps on the back. Everything was going as planned until one of them stopped to look at Reggie as if questioning his sudden attendance.

Of course, this put John on higher alert, but when the gang member began to laugh and slapped Reggie on the shoulder, John knew it would be safe to continue.

Once the group had finished welcoming Reggie, a tall, slender man climbed on top of a dumpster and called the group to attention. John assumed this was the leader, and as he began to speak, John held his breath.

"Santo has passed the test of brotherhood and would like to present his trophy!" He pointed to a man standing off to the side by himself.

John watched as a small, thin man stepped forward, holding something in his outstretched hand. He walked to a makeshift table in the center of the group, stopped, and placed the object on the table.

The man stepped back and began to speak, his words causing John's blood run cold in his veins. "I have taken innocent blood, and I offer this as proof!" He looked up at the leader and let loose with a war cry that caused all of the hidden officers to shudder. John strained to see the object and was certain it was the missing barrette with little, jeweled butterflies from the last victim.

John's mind was distracted by the image of the dead body of a young girl lying on the autopsy table when suddenly, he found his attention drawn back to the group below. They had begun to laugh as they circled the table. Then in a show of gang pride and solidarity, they laid the keepsakes taken from their victims around the one Santo had presented to the group moments before.

John would later learn how each member had put their mark on the item taken from their victim, as proof of their membership in the gang.

There was no logic in the choice of items, as most had no value other than what it symbolized to each member. There were sunglasses, wristwatches, a red high heel pump, but the most sickening of all were the ones from the little girls.

In the dim light, John saw a pink ribbon, a beaded necklace, one purple ballerina slipper. He also noticed a small stuffed teddy bear, a little plastic horse, and a child's denim jacket with jeweled hearts on the back. The sight of the last objects let John know this was who he had been looking for. However, what they did next not only surprised John but disgusted him as well.

Suddenly the group grew quiet. Then as though part of a demonic ritual, one by one, they began to retell the story of their kill. John felt a chill in the air as the others chanted, "Death to the innocent; their blood makes us strong." There was laughter, as each shared his story of the terror and pain inflicted on their victims, and with the telling of each story, the chanting grew louder until it reached a fevered pitch.

John could not believe his eyes, Damn, what sort of gang is this?

He had seen horrific things before, but this was by far the worst. When he had heard enough, John made the signal for the waiting officers to swoop in and make the arrests.

The Prosecuting Attorney was thrilled to have the evidence linking each gang member to their personal victim, and with the testimony from Reggie and Louisa, he was confident of solid convictions.

The arrests made John a celebrity in the media across the country. They called him a Super Cop and reported how he had saved the city from evil. In an interview, the reporter asked John how he was able to solve the case.

Feeling pleased with the outcome, John offered his view to the news reporter. "All criminals will become sloppy over time, and by just following the evidence, any crime will be solved. I've always found criminals are not as smart as they believe they are and will eventually make a mistake. I also know there is no crime you cannot solve by following the evidence."

Unfortunately, this statement caused an unexpected outcome, which John would come to regret. It had made him the next opponent chosen for The Game.

***

"Super Cop; my ass," John growled, lifting his glass in a toast to himself. "You're sitting in a bar, drunk off your ass, and feeling sorry for yourself."

His mind wandered back to the telephone call. What does that asshole want from me, and what was it he called himself - Erebus? What kind of name is that? John shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Then he poured the last of the whiskey into his glass and drank it down in one swallow.

That Erebus is a real piece of work. Shit, he seems to know everything before I do! All, I know, is I need to stop him before someone else dies, but how? Damn it, I need to figure out what his next move will be! There has to be something I'm missing, some clue I keep overlooking.

He lifted the bottle again, making sure it was empty, and then he set it back down on the table. He had to admit to himself he was disappointed but also knew he did not need anymore to drink at this time. "Hey Leo, would you call me that cab now? I need to get home."

"Sure thing, John. Can I get you something while you wait?" Leo finished drawing a draft beer, and in one smooth motion, slid it down to a customer at the end of the bar.

John looked up through bleary eyes, "Yeah, some coffee would be great!"
Chapter 18

Time to Play

The next morning, John woke with his head pounding, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, "Damn, I've overslept!"

He quickly got out of bed and jumped into the shower. As he stood under the warm water, trying to clear his mind, a voice kept whispering in his head. Come on, John, it's time to play The Game. You need to catch up because you don't want to let them down.

John finished his shower, and as he got dressed, he felt frustration churning in the pit of his stomach again. Why is Erebus able to get under my skin? I know better than to let this crap get to me. Shit, I need to pull myself together and stop him before someone else dies. If this nutcase wants me to start playing his game, then that's just what I am going to do! He grabbed a cup of coffee and walked to his office to call a cab for a ride back to the bar to pick up his car.

His head was pounding so hard he nearly missed his car keys sitting on the table by the front door. "What the hell, how did these get here?"

John knew he had not driven home, so how did his keys end up on the table. He remembered asking Leo to call him a cab then getting up to walk over to the bar for some coffee while he waited, and then nothing...

Crap, what happened next? When he reached for his keys, he saw a note tucked under them.

John, I figured you would need your car in the morning. I hope you do not mind, but I drove it home for you. It's in the driveway, and I locked your front door before I left. I hope you're feeling better, Leo.

John looked out the window, and sure enough, his car was in the driveway. "Well, at least, I don't need to call a cab. That was nice of Leo. I'll have to thank him later." John crumpled the note and put it in his pocket.

Realizing he better leave the Everett case alone, for now, John decided to begin looking into the murder of Frank Campos by his partner, and the circumstances leading up to it.

He looked up the phone number and address of Frank's housekeeper and then called to see if she would meet with him. She was reluctant at first but agreed to meet him for coffee at a small cafe in her neighborhood later that morning.

***

"Thank you for meeting with me again." John had questioned Rosella earlier and had found her to be a very pleasant woman. She had told him she knew nothing and was shocked to learn George had murdered Frank.

"I don't know what more I can tell you, Detective. It was such a terrible thing. Frank was like a son to me, and I miss him terribly," Rosella wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I was hoping maybe I could learn more about their friendship, and what may have pushed George to kill Frank. If there is anything you can tell me to clear this whole thing up, I will be most appreciative," John smiled then handed Rosella a napkin.

She took the napkin from him and dried her face, "Thank you, sir."

"Please call me, John." He hated to see the look of pain on her face, but he needed to know if this case was another move set up by the caller.

"Okay, I will, but only if you call me, Rosella." She folded the napkin and placed it on the table in front of her. "I don't know what more I can tell you, but for my dear, sweet Frank, I'll do my best."

"I was hoping you might elaborate more on their personal relationship. Had they been arguing before the shooting? It doesn't make any sense for Frank to embezzle money from the company, and then make it appear as though George was doing it, does it? Frank had a controlling interest in the company, and from everything we found, Frank wasn't having any money problems." John did not want to upset her, but he had to know.

Rosella sat up straight and squared her shoulders. "Frank would never do anything like that. He was a good and honest man, and he loved George like a brother. Even after... oh my, I should not say anything. It's not my place." She suddenly realized she might have said too much.

John perked up, "After what? Please, Rosella, anything, you know, might help to solve this mystery."

John knew he was treading on dangerous ground with her, but he had to know the truth, so he pushed onward.

Rosella drew in a breath then continued, "George was angry about Frank marrying Sheila. He had always felt Frank stole her from him, but Frank didn't take Sheila. She never wanted George in the first place. She only wanted money and power, and she knew Frank had more of each than George ever did. She was an evil woman with an ugly heart, and I was glad when she left," Rosella reached for the napkin and wiped more tears from her eyes.

"She only used George to get to Frank. Her target from the beginning was Frank and his money. Then when he wanted to start a family, she decided it was time to cash in and move on. Frank was heartbroken. He never even dated after the divorce. He simply kept himself busy by working long hours and building the business. George became unbearable after Shelia left, and he blamed Frank for her leaving. George thought Shelia would go to him after the divorce, but she laughed at him. She told him how she had never wanted to be with him, and the thought of it made her sick," Rosella paused as she fought to hold back the anger and tears.

"After that, Frank would go to work late each day and leave early, bringing most of his work home. Frank had told me once he believed all they needed was some space between them, and after some time, maybe they could rekindle their friendship. Frank wanted that..."

Her voice trailed off, becoming softer. "But that will never happen now." The tears streamed down her cheeks as she reached for the napkin again.

John saw the pain clearly etched on her face. He felt sorry for forcing her to relive the terrible memory, but he had no choice. "I'm sorry to upset you, but any information you have for me will help to solve this. Was Frank angry at George about anything? Did they ever fight over money?"

"No, he was not angry with George, and they never argued about money around me. Frank refused to discuss that with George in front of me. Whenever George would begin to get angry, Frank would ask him to leave. He would not put up with that sort of thing in his home. Frank is... I mean, Frank was a polite man. He was a kind and generous man, as well." Rosella lowered her head, accepting he was not coming back.

She then spoke in a quiet but strained voice, "When I had some serious health problems, Frank took care of everything. He was not the type to flaunt his wealth, as he was comfortable with himself and never worried what people thought of him. I remember when they wrote the article on him in that computer magazine. All the attention embarrassed him, but I knew he deserved it, and I was very proud of him. Frank was the brains of the company, but George never wanted to admit it. George was jealous when the article only gave him a few lines. He stormed into Frank's apartment the day the article came out, yelling how he was not getting the recognition he deserved. George made it clear the days of Frank hogging all the attention and pushing him aside were over. He then looked at Frank and stated in a threatening tone, it was going to stop, once and for all. Poor Frank had no idea how to respond. He had no control over what they wrote in the article. All he knew was the reporter interviewed both of them and took several photos. Frank had no idea the article would be so one-sided," Rosella wiped the tears from her eyes again.

"So, all the hostility came from George? If George was the angry one, why would Frank frame him for embezzlement? If anything, it seems it would have been the other way around." This statement was said more to himself than to Rosella.

Suddenly a voice chimed in the back of his mind. They were pieces in the game and easy to manipulate.

Rosella took the napkin, blew her nose, and then put it in her pocket. "I thought the same thing. Frank would never do anything like that. My goodness, he never even tried to hurt his ex-wife when she left him. Frank merely gave her all the money she wanted and stepped aside. His divorce lawyer had said he was foolish to give her everything she asked for, but Frank would not hear anything of it. He said she needed it more than he did, and maybe it would make her happy. He had always believed she was merely unhappy with the marriage, but I always assumed she would find a new man to get her hooks into once she had spent it all. She never deserved to be married to Frank; he was too good for her." The look in Rosella's eyes clearly showed her disdain for Frank's ex-wife.

"It sounds as if he was a good man. It's hard to believe someone of that caliber died at the hands of his lifelong friend over the jealousy of a woman; it truly is a shame. I want to thank you for taking the time to meet with me again because it's important to discover the real reason for Frank's death. How are you doing; have you found another job?" John tried not to sound disappointed in her answers as she did not have anything new to add to the investigation.

"No, I think it's time to retire. My daughter lives in Oregon, and she wants me to come live with her and her family. I think after all of this, I'll enjoy some peace and quiet. I've never been to Oregon, but the pictures of my daughter's home in Florence are beautiful. Her house is on a big lake just outside of town with lots of blackberry bushes growing in her backyard, and the Pacific Ocean is only seven miles from her house. I have never seen the ocean, so maybe I'll go walk barefoot in the sand." Rosella tried to muster a smile, but the sadness still showed on her face.

"That is a great idea. It sounds like a beautiful place to retire. Living close to your family will be good for you too. When you get out there, will you eat some blackberry cobbler for me?" John laughed, smacking his lips.

"It's my favorite, and you can't beat homemade blackberry cobbler. My aunt used to make it for me when I was a kid, and I used to eat myself sick on it," John smiled at the pleasant memory of living with his aunt and uncle.

"I'll do that for you. Well, I need to get going; I have a lot to do. Thank you for caring about Frank. He didn't deserve to die at such a young age. I'll forward my contact information in case you think of any other questions I might be able to answer. I hope you learn why George murdered Frank in cold blood. Goodbye, John." Rosella reached for her purse, picked up an extra napkin, and put it in the side pocket.

"Goodbye, Rosella."

They both stood and shook hands, each wondering if they would speak again.

"Take care of yourself out there in Oregon, and I wish you only happiness with your daughter and her family." John felt sorry for her, but he was glad she had a family during this difficult time.

"Thank you, John. You have been very kind, and I promise to eat some blackberry cobbler for you once I get there."

Rosella looked at John and imagined him as a little boy eating his aunt's blackberry cobbler until his stomach ached.

That's such a pleasant memory of happier times, she thought to herself.

However, it was now time to create some new memories of her own. Rosella smiled with a renewed sense of hope, turned, and walked away.

John watched her walk away and wished only the best for Rosella in her new life out in Oregon. She had spent many years taking care of others, so now it was her turn.

"Good luck Rosella, I wish you only happiness."

Once she left, John sat back down and pulled the notebook from his pocket to write some notes of their conversation while it was still fresh in his mind. The waitress refilled his cup with coffee, and then he took a sip of the hot liquid before pondering his next move.
Chapter 19

The End of Trust

Kathy decided to stay in bed late after her night out with the girls. They had all returned to the motel around 3 o'clock in the morning, still singing and laughing like a bunch of silly college girls.

Kathy enjoyed the group because they knew how to have fun. When Annie, her roommate on this trip started to come out of her blouse while dancing, Kathy decided it was time to stop drinking and keep an eye on her friends. She then spent the rest of the night laughing and gathering their clothes.

Kathy glanced over at Annie, who was still asleep, pleased their first meeting was not until two o'clock that afternoon. All she wanted to do was take a shower, get some coffee, and relax before heading out to the meeting.

As she got out of bed, Kathy noticed the message light on the telephone flashing. She did not remember seeing it when they returned to the room earlier that morning, but with the laughter and the process of getting Annie into her nightgown, she was not surprised.

Kathy picked up the receiver, dialed to retrieve the message, but nothing could have prepared her for what came next.

"I wanted to let you know that John got suspended from work, and he's not taking it very well. He went to his old watering hole last night and appeared to be tying on a good one. I thought you might like to know, as we don't want him surrendering to his demons again, do we?" The message ended with no mention of the caller's name.

Kathy held the receiver to her ear, dumbfounded by what she heard.

John didn't mention getting suspended from work. Surely, he'd tell me something important like that. It can't be true; he promised he would never go to Leo's again.

The last thing, Kathy wanted, was to go through what they had after Ray's death. Maybe it's a sick joke, but who would say something like this if it weren't true.

A sickening feeling suddenly came to Kathy. She dialed their home telephone, as well as his cell phone with no answer on either. She then dialed his phone number at the department, but after several rings, someone at the main desk answered, "Officer Manning."

"Good Morning, this is Kathy Cooper. Is John in?"

"Mrs. Cooper, I'm sorry; he is not in today. Would you like to speak with Captain Riggs?"

"Captain Riggs? No, I am trying to find John. Has anyone seen or heard from him today?" This cannot be good, she thought to herself. "Has something happened to John?"

"Well...ah...I don't know... Captain Riggs said if you called to put you straight through to him. Please hold while I transfer," the phone clicked twice and then began to ring again.

After three rings, Tom answered, "Hello, Kathy, I am glad to hear from you."

"What's going on, Tom? Has something happened to John?"

"Kathy, I wish I could tell you. John had a little problem yesterday. I can't explain it, but for some reason, he won't let go of the Everett case. I know he worked hard on it for weeks, but it's over. The murderer is sitting in jail, but John doesn't want to accept it. He has this crazy idea someone else committed the murders," Tom paused, not sure if he wanted to continue.

Kathy felt her heart skip a beat at Tom's words.

"I don't know what to think, Kathy, but he appears to be drinking again. How have things been between the two of you lately? You aren't having any problems, are you?"

The question took Kathy by surprise. "No, I thought things are fine between us. In fact, we celebrated our anniversary the other night. Tom, I have no idea what could be wrong with John. Is it true you suspended him?" She held her breath, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"Yes, I did, but I had no choice, Kathy. After he went to the jail and questioned Charles Everett again, and then he went to Mrs. Everett's house to ask her some unnecessary questions. John forced my hand. I had to step in and stop him before he damaged the case. I'm hoping some time off will give him time to work out whatever is bothering him."

Kathy heard the frustration in Tom's voice. "He didn't tell you, did he?"

"No, he didn't. I'm currently in Florida for a conference. Maybe if I hadn't come, I could've stopped him before things got out of hand. I'm sorry to bother you, Tom. Thank you for telling me; you're a treasured friend."

Kathy knew Tom was as worried as she was about John. He had stood by John after Ray's death, when everyone else had given up on him, and for that, she would always be grateful.

Tom heard the pain and confusion in her voice, and it broke his heart.

"Kathy, you know how much you and John mean to me, don't you? If there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask. I want you to call me if you hear from him, and if he shows up here, I will let you know, okay?"

"I will, Tom. I want to thank you for your honesty and for believing in John. I need to find him before something happens to him. I promise to let you know if I learn anything, goodbye." Kathy hung up the telephone while saying a silent prayer John was safe.

"Something bad must be going on at home." Kathy decided to head home and find out what was going on for herself.

If he's having a problem, I need to be there for him before things get out of control.

Kathy dialed the airline and booked a flight back to Philadelphia. Once she confirmed her reservation, she packed her luggage and left a note for Annie, explaining she had gone home. "Oh God, please don't let it be happening again."
Chapter 20

The Next Move

John finished his coffee and left the cafe mulling over everything Rosella said. The problem was none of it made any sense. If George was angry with Frank, why would Frank frame him? Frank had control of the company; therefore, there was nothing to gain by getting rid of George. His ex-wife didn't end up with George, so there was no reason to get even with anything there either. Everything pointed to George, as the one who had everything to gain if something happened to Frank. He would have control of the business, as well as his revenge for Frank stealing Sheila.

The only problem was with Frank dead, and George arrested for his murder; no one won.

What did Erebus say about them? George was the weak one; he was easy to manipulate. Was this the reason they were chosen to be pieces in The Game, but what did Erebus have to gain from their destruction?

John also found himself confused about how all this tied in with Charles Everett and the lawyer's wife.

How are several murdered prostitutes, and a suicide with no apparent ties between them linked?

John took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind.

John realized how the caller seemed to take his time setting up each of his chosen pieces for The Game. Therefore, he wondered why he chose them for destruction. Why them, what makes them so special? The caller did say each played a significant role in The Game, but what's that supposed to mean? I need more information on this Erebus, but where do I find it?

John decided to head home to do some research on the internet. He hoped to find information linking the victims in some way or another. "I need to stop him before anyone else dies."

***

The man chuckled how easy it was to gain access to the house. It was the second time he had been here; the first was to leave the bottle of whiskey in the desk drawer.

It pleased him how the game was progressing. John was an enjoyable and interesting choice for an opponent, and he appeared to be coming along fine. The man knew his time was limited to set up this next move, but he relished every moment of it regardless. Once finished, he slipped out the side door, resetting the alarm.

Let us see how you handle this next move, he chuckled silently to himself.

***

John pulled up in his driveway with a strange feeling suddenly coming over him. He got out of the car and walked to the front door but hesitated before putting the key into the lock.

"Come on, you're just paranoid." John unlocked the door and slowly opened it when he heard the telephone began to ring.

He ran to his office and sat at his desk, grabbing the receiver, "Hello."

"Good afternoon, John. Did you have a nice visit with the housekeeper?"

"As a matter of fact, you're just the person I wanted to talk to. Your timing is impeccable," John teased.

"What may I help you with, John?" The voice sounded pleased with this new development.

"What is the connection between the victims? Why them? You can, at least, tell me that." John struggled to control his voice so as not to reveal his excitement.

"I have already told you."

"No, you haven't, not really. Am I supposed to figure out the connection between them to play The Game, as you call it?" John hoped this would make the caller slip up and give him a hint of who he was.

"You still don't understand, do you? They're not the important ones in The Game, John; you are." The disappointment was evident in his voice.

"I am, but why me? Have I dealt with you before this? Are you trying to exact some revenge because I burned you in another case?" John searched his memory.

"No, John, this has nothing to do with revenge. You were brought to my attention because you proved you were a cut above the rest. You have shown you think for yourself. You have demonstrated you don't follow the crowd like so many others do. I respect that in you, John. As for the pieces in this game, it's nothing personal. They were simply interesting and fun to use. However, I must admit there is some symbolism involved."

John's body shook with rage. "Pieces? They're people, each with a life to live! If you have something against me, why involve innocent people?"

This Erebus is one sick bastard, John thought to himself.

"Innocent, Mr. Everett was not so innocent, was he? In reality, I did society a favor. I do have to admit the lawyer's wife was innocent, as was her unborn child. However, I did so enjoy that move for its perfection. I will always treasure the memory of her lying on the lounger with a sweet smile on her dead lips. What a vision..." his voice trailed off.

"You sick bastard!" John could no longer contain his rage.

"Now, now, John, calm down. You don't want to give yourself a heart attack and end the game before its time, do you?"

"Why don't you come here, and we'll play your game face-to-face?" John's voice was low and hard. "Or are you too much of a coward to face your opponent?"

This response only encouraged him, driving him onward. "I seem to have struck a nerve, John. That's good! I, however, must decline your invitation. You see, I have important work to do, as do you. We'll talk again soon."

The voice paused a moment, "Oh yes, I nearly forgot, it's a shame the way Kathy has hidden her real feelings about Ray's death all these years. It's sad how those, we trust the most, can ultimately deceive us."

How dare he talk of Kathy! Just the idea of him even knowing of her terrified John.

"What the hell are you talking about? My wife and her feelings are none of your damn business!" John was glad Kathy was in Florida, and he prayed he would have time to catch Erebus before her return.

"True enough, but her feelings should be relevant to you. What she wrote to your Captain while you were having your problem with the bottle, is fascinating reading, John. I'm confident you will find it interesting as well."

He always enjoyed this part of The Game. To cause doubt in his opponent's mind was always an added benefit.

"What report are you talking about? She never wrote a report for Tom, you asshole! You're lying! Kathy would never do something like that without telling me first."

"Have I not always been honest with you, John? You can deny it all you want, but I saw the report myself in her desk drawer beneath some folders. I have to admit it was entertaining reading. You need to go check it out for yourself. I must say you're a lucky man to have people willing to cover-up for you the way they did."

"I don't know what you are up to, but Kathy had nothing to do with the investigation after Ray's death. Besides, the department cleared me of any wrongdoing. It was a tragic accident in the line of duty and nothing more!"

John's anger grew to a dangerous point. "Kathy would never keep something important like that from me!"

"You know you don't believe that now, do you, John?"

The voice continued to taunt him. "You know for yourself if you had not wanted to make the big bust, Ray never would've been caught off guard the way he was." He paused a moment, allowing John to feel the weight of his words.

"We both know it was your guilt that caused your breakdown after his death. You need to stop lying to yourself, John. You know he died because you had to be the big hero. You never once thought of Ray when you charged inside that warehouse. The only thing on your mind was getting a high-profile arrest, wasn't it?" He paused a moment, waiting for what he knew would come.

"Shut up, I don't want to hear any more of your lies!" John's head felt as though it would split open.

"Ray's death was a horrible accident! The final report stated that fact! Kathy had nothing to do with the investigation! Everything, you say is a lie!"

"Are you sure? I'm sure you would love to prove me wrong. Go to her desk, and in the middle drawer, under the stack of folders, you'll find the truth. It's all there neat as can be, unless, of course, you're worried I might be telling the truth."

"I'm not worried about anything. Kathy would never keep something as important as that from me. She has always been honest with me and..."

"Are you sure? Sometimes a loved one will keep secrets because they don't want to hurt the one that they love. After all, you were a mess back then, weren't you?" he softly chuckled. To watch an opponent, begin to question their reality was always an enjoyable part of The Game.

"I've heard enough! I don't know what you are trying to do with this lie, but it's not going to work," John fought to control his anger.

"Well, if that's what you want to believe, that's your choice. But are you actually convinced I am lying? You know for yourself I've been honest with you from the very beginning. You know you will not be able to sleep without knowing the truth. Come on, admit it; you need to know. It's all up to you to discover if I'm lying or telling the truth. I anticipate the next move once you do. Goodbye, John." The phone went dead.

John sat quietly with the receiver in his hand while fighting to control the rage burning inside of him. He closed his eyes as the words replayed out in his mind.

You know you will not be able to sleep without knowing the truth.

John hated to admit it, but the asshole had always been truthful about the events in his game.

"This has to be a lie, though. Kathy would never deceive me like that."

John looked at the telephone receiver, still clutched in his hand, and noticed how his hand had turned white from his crushing grip.

"Damn it all to hell! I need to stop letting him get to me!" John threw the telephone receiver across the room in a blind rage. "To hell with it, I need a drink!"

John stood then pushed his chair back with such force it slammed into the shelves behind him, knocking the picture taken when they went to Barbados to the floor. He glanced down and realized the glass in the frame was shattered.

"Damn it, I need to get out of here and cool down," he growled as he stormed out to his car.

John had never been so angry in his entire life. First, the cases were not as they appeared, and now Erebus was trying to make him question Kathy's loyalty.

"Kathy would never hide something as important as that from me. It's a lie; he's just trying to throw me off," he groaned.

John hated this feeling. To question Kathy's loyalty was unimaginable to John.

I need to clear my head and quit letting that asshole get under my skin! John fought his growing doubts, but the voice kept whispering in the back of his mind.

John found himself trapped in a thick fog with only the faces of each piece of The Game, forming his mind. He had lost complete track of time, or even where he was when he suddenly looked up and realized he was at Leo's Pub. A feeling of guilt washed over him when he realized he had no memory of the drive from his house.

"Crap, I need to get to the bottom of this before I do something stupid."

John got out of his car and walked inside, wanting nothing more than to escape this nightmare.

"Well, what a pleasant surprise! Come over here and have a seat," Leo motioned to John, inviting him to come to the bar where he was mixing some drinks.

"Are you all right? Damn, you look like you've had a crappy day." Once Leo finished mixing the drinks, he placed them on the countertop.

"Thanks, as a matter of fact, I have. I sure could use a pick-me-up," John walked to the bar and sat on the stool in front of Leo.

"Of course, but are you sure you ought to be starting this early?" Leo teased.

"This is a bar, isn't it? I'm here for one reason, and it's not for you to tell me how I'm drinking too early in the day. Now set me up; I am in no mood to visit today. I need to think."

"Sure thing, hey, I am sorry for overstepping my boundaries. I just know that your wife..." the look on John's face let Leo know he had indeed done just that.

John cut him off, "My wife has nothing to say about whether or not I decide to have a drink. I'm a grown man, and if I want a drink, then by God, I will! So, if you have a problem with my being here, I'll find a new watering hole!"

John wanted to be left alone. He wanted to think and unwind with a drink. John was not mad at Leo; he was just tired of feeling out of control of his life. A few days ago, he was the master of his destiny, but now he felt like a mouse, waiting for the cat to pounce and devour him. Being out of control was something John could not stomach, so he needed someone to aim his anger at, and Leo was a perfect target.

"I'm sorry, Leo; I'm just having a rough week. I need a place to relax and think. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you."

"Hey, no problem; I understand. Here take this, it's on the house. Go have a seat, and I'll make sure no one bothers you." Leo handed John a bottle of his favorite whiskey, with a shot glass.

John smiled at Leo, feeling like a total ass for the way he had acted. He thanked Leo, grabbed the bottle and shot glass then walked to the table in the back corner of the bar.

Damn, I need to get myself under control, or I'll never solve this mess. Here's to stopping that arrogant asshole from killing anyone else.

John held the shot glass up to his lips, noticing the enticing smell and amber color of its contents. He closed his eyes and in one swallow, emptied its contents. After a few more shots of the whiskey, John mulled over the conversation from the earlier telephone call.

There is no way Kathy did anything with the investigation after Ray's death. She was working at the shelter at the time, besides why, would the department include her? If she had offered her opinion in the investigation, she would have told me. John closed his eyes, trying to force the thought out of his mind.

Kathy was the most honest person John had ever known, and she never said she believed he caused Ray's death. However, everything said since the beginning of The Game has turned out to be true.

A sickening feeling washed over John, What if he's telling the truth? What if Kathy did keep the truth from me? What if she does believe I caused Ray's death, and then helped in a cover-up?

The more John thought about it, the more he drank, and the more he drank, the angrier he became.

Has my entire marriage been a lie? She has said how sad it is Ray's son will grow up without his father. Maybe that's a hidden code to let me know she believes it was my fault.

Everything swirled around in John's head, and before he knew it, the bottle was empty.

"Well, there's only one way to know for sure," he groaned, pushing the empty bottle aside.

John knew he would not rest until he looked for the report himself.

"Leo, thank you for the drinks, but I need to go." John stood, but the floor seemed to move under his feet, making him grab the table for support.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay? Do you need me to call a cab?" Leo reached for the telephone.

"No, I'm fine; I just stood too fast. I'll see you later," John steadied himself, and then carefully walked out the door.

Leo watched John as he walked outside. "I sure hope he's not in trouble."

Once John disappeared out the door, Leo poured another drink and placed it on the tray for the waitress.
Chapter 21

Lies and the Cover-up

By the time John pulled into his driveway, the anger burning inside of him had turned into rage.

How dare Kathy interfere in my career, and then keep it from me. She had better hope this isn't true!

***

The drive home was nothing but a blur of burning fury. Once John parked in the driveway, he stumbled out of his car, dropping his keys.

"Shit, what the hell is wrong with me, I didn't have that much to drink!" After picking up his keys, John glanced around, wondering if any of his neighbors were watching him.

John knew he had plenty to drink, but he did not want to admit he was foolish and was drunk again. He steadied himself, then went inside the house, straight to Kathy's office.

John reached for the light switch, then paused a moment. It has to be a lie. I've trusted her since the day I met her.

John wondered if he was acting a fool, but the doubt kept growing in his mind.

Why am I allowing some sick son-of-a-bitch to make me question her honesty?

John knew there was only one way to settle this issue, and that was to look for himself.

He turned on the light in her office and then sat at her desk. John marveled at how organized it was with everything neatly in its place. He had never looked in her desk before, so he felt as though he was invading her private space.

John sat for a moment, wondering what he should do. Do I really want to look in this drawer?

He knew she would never intentionally do anything to hurt him, but why did he feel the need to know if she betrayed him?

John reached for the middle drawer. He held his breath as he slowly opened it, and then looked beneath the stack of folders. What he saw lying there nearly knocked him out of the chair. Tucked safely away was a folder neatly marked JOHN COOPER, just as Erebus had told him.

John's hands shook with such force he could barely grasp the folder as he pulled it out of the drawer. The sight of it in his hand caused pain to surge through his body like a sharp dagger headed straight for his heart.

At first, he thought of returning the folder to its hidden place and just forget about it. Unfortunately, he found himself transfixed on the unopened folder, unable to release his grasp.

A voice from deep inside of John's mind cried out, warning him not to open the folder. For if he were to do so, he would release a demon from the pits of hell that would appear to destroy him for exposing its contents.

John braced himself, hoping for the best as he opened the folder. However, what he found inside; shook his world to its very core. He found evaluation forms about his actions regarding Ray's death. There were handwritten notes by Kathy and Tom, clearly showing their belief in his guilt, and their desire to cover up his actions.

John's heart raced as he read their words. They both believe I was at fault for not waiting for backup to arrive.

The notes went on to state clearly his decision not to wait had led to Ray's death. What was worse, they had both conspired to cover up the facts to save his career.

John felt sucker-punched and found it difficult to breathe. In one of the notes, Kathy had written she would never stay with a man who had caused the death of his partner because of a personal quest for glory. Kathy had said she would do anything to make sure the investigation cleared John of all wrongdoing. Kathy also wrote she had worked too hard to get where she was, and even though she loved John, she was not going to let him ruin her career because he wanted to be a hero.

John was devastated. To learn his entire marriage was nothing but a lie was difficult to accept.

You never believed in me. Your only concern was about you and your career. I've been a fool to trust you all these years, Kathy. I must admit you played your part in this deception very well, though. He began to put the folder back in the drawer when he heard a car pull up in the driveway. He stood and walked to the front window. "Ah, perfect timing."
Chapter 22

Trouble Starts at Home

Kathy landed in Philadelphia at seven o'clock that evening. She was glad the flight was over because she was exhausted. The only flight available had two layovers, which made it a long and miserable trip home.

Kathy did not understand how things could have fallen apart in the short time since she left, and she wondered why John had not told her of his suspension. They had always been honest with each other no matter what, so none of this made any sense to her.

Kathy knew this latest case had been hard on John, and he had spent many a sleepless night worrying about when they would find the next victim. She knew every time they found another body that John would blame himself for not stopping the killer. However, with the arrest, why he would continue to believe the killer was still out there?

John had never been one to doubt strong evidence, so why would he begin now. What made him question the findings, but more importantly, what drove him to start drinking again?

After everything he had gone through after Ray's death, John had promised he would never drink heavily again. He had also promised her he would only drink wine on special occasions as he had on their recent anniversary.

***

On the cab ride from the airport, Kathy thought of how to approach John with her concerns. A feeling of dread overcame her when the cab turned down her street.

"My house is the second one on the right. That's it; please pull in next to the car in the driveway."

Relieved to see John was home, Kathy wanted to get inside the house as soon as possible. How much do I owe you?"

"It will be $37.52," the driver said as he reached to open his door.

"Here's $50, keep the change." Kathy handed him the money and quickly stepped out of the car.

"Thank you. Would you like me to carry your luggage to the door for you?"

"No, thank you. Please just set it on the sidewalk; I will take it from there." She tucked her purse under her arm and followed him to the rear of the car.

The driver retrieved her luggage from the trunk and set it on the sidewalk. He asked again if she needed any help carrying it inside, but she refused. She thanked the cab driver again, gathered her luggage, and walked to the front door.

Kathy's mind replayed the message left at the motel earlier. I sure hope everything is all right, and this is all a big misunderstanding. She was fumbling with her keys when the door suddenly swung open with John standing there.

"Oh, my goodness, you startled me! Oh, good, you're still up. I was worried you might already be in bed."

Kathy was relieved he was awake. The last thing she wanted was to wait to find out what was going on.

"What are you doing home this early? I thought you wouldn't be home for a couple of days. Did something happen?" John played it cool, as he reached for her luggage.

"I know, but something came up, and I thought I should come home." She looked at him, trying to read his mood, but he held his emotions well.

John seemed unusually calm, but she did notice a strange look in his eyes. "Did something happen at your office with one of your cases, and why didn't you call to let me know you were coming back early? I would've picked you up at the airport."

John fought to conceal his anger. He knew she was lying to him. So, you wanted to sneak home and catch me screwing up, huh? Well, you're in for a little surprise yourself!

Kathy searched her mind for a believable excuse as to why she needed to return early, but she merely stood there, not sure of what to say.

John was waiting for this opening. "Maybe you came home to do more of this?" He held up the folder he had found hidden in her desk. "I cannot believe you would betray me like this! You've been lying to me all these years!" He forced the folder into her hands.

"I have no idea what you're talking about; I never betrayed you. What's this?" Kathy's hands shook as she turned the folder to see it better in the light.

"Oh, that is rich, Kathy! It was inside your desk drawer, nice and neatly tucked away. I have to admit it was interesting reading and quite informative. I love the part where you were worried about how my mistake could ruin your career. I never realized I married such a deceiving bitch!" John's eyes burned into her, forcing her to step back.

Kathy could not understand why he was so upset, but then she caught a whiff of his breath. He's drinking whiskey again and judging by his behavior, quite a lot of it.

"John, I don't know what you're talking about. You're drunk and not thinking clearly. It's not my folder. I have no idea what this is or where it came from." Kathy held it out for him, but he shoved it back at her.

"You're lying! I trusted you, and now I learn you've been lying to me all these years. Besides, so what if I'm drunk! I'm a grown man, and if I want a couple of drinks, I will damn well have them! I'm not making any of this up; the proof of your betrayal is right there in your hands!"

"I can't believe you're going to stand there and tell me you've only had a couple of drinks. You've had more than a couple, and from what I hear, you've been doing it quite often since I left. You should've told me you got suspended from work. What's wrong with you, John?"

Kathy fought to hold back her tears. She just could not understand why he was acting this way. There was no question; John must be in trouble, and it made him drink again.

"My job is none of your damn business. So, who called you: Tom? I bet you two are having a great time with this, aren't you? Well, sweetie, I'll try not to do anything to jeopardize your precious career," the sarcasm dripped from his lips.

Kathy could no longer hold back her tears. "John, I don't understand what has you so upset. Please, can we just sit and discuss this? I love you, and I would never do anything to hurt you." She reached out for him, but he jerked away from her.

"To be honest, I don't have anything more to say to you. In fact, I don't want to be anywhere near you. With the way I'm feeling right now, it would be best if I were as far away from you as possible."

John knew if he did not leave immediately, things could very easily get out of control. He shoved her aside without saying another word and stormed out of the door toward his car.

"Wait, you cannot leave like this, please, John, stay! We need to get this straightened out!" Kathy cried out.

John got into his car and backed out of the driveway so quickly he had nearly hit the mailbox across the street. Kathy stood transfixed and watched him drive away into the darkness.

"What just happened?"

Kathy looked down at the folder still in her hand. "What could be inside this to set him off the way it did?"

She clutched the folder to her breast then walked inside the house. Kathy wanted to learn what had caused John's rage.

However, what she found inside took her completely by surprise. "Where did you get this, John?"

When she finished reading the entire report, Kathy closed the folder and reached for the telephone. She knew it was late, but there was no choice. "Tom, I'm sorry to call you so late, but we need to talk."
Chapter 23

The Downhill Spiral

John was furious. How could Kathy stand there and deny everything? When the cab had pulled up in the driveway, he could not believe the perfect timing.

Kathy, you may think you've fooled me, but I'm on to you now! All those years, I trusted you, but no longer. You have crossed a line of which there is no forgiveness.

John thought back to the times Kathy had supported him when his job seemed to close in around him, but now he knew it had all been a lie.

***

All John wanted at this time was to be far away from Kathy and her lies. When he left her standing in the doorway, he drove away, unaware of where he was going until a large dog ran into the path of his car. He swerved to miss it, and then slid off the road into a ditch.

"Great, this is all I need now," John groaned.

He steadied himself and then climbed out of the car to check for any damage. He walked around the car and only noticed some slight damage to the front bumper.

Thank God, no one was around to see that. I need to find somewhere to sleep this off before I get myself into trouble. He looked around and tried to find a familiar landmark. "Where am I?"

He chastised himself for not paying better attention to where he was going. When he had left the house, all he was thinking about was his need to get away from Kathy.

John climbed back into the car and slowly pulled back on the highway. He had only driven for a few minutes when he noticed a small, lighted sign off in the distance. "I sure hope that's a motel because I have no idea where I am!" he laughed, feeling every bit the fool.

As John got closer to the sign, he realized it was, in fact, a small motel with a neon sign flashing VACANCY.

Thank God, I need to get out of this car before I get arrested, or worse, he moaned while pulling into the motel parking lot.

John was thankful he had found a place to sleep off a headache forming in the back of his head.

No one was in the office, but a sign hanging on the door told any late arrivals to ring the buzzer for after-hours service. John looked inside the room, pressed the buzzer several times, and waited for the night clerk to appear.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. Take your damn finger off the ringer, or you'll wake the whole county!"

When the clerk entered the office, John had to fight the urge to laugh. He appeared to be roughly 5'6" tall, thin, maybe in his mid-sixties and dressed in a plaid robe with fuzzy lime-green slippers.

He scratched his balding head and yawned while he walked up to the service window.

"Well, I guess you need a room. Are you alone, or will someone be joining you?"

"No, it will only be me. Do you take credit cards?" John reached for his wallet.

"Of course, I take credit cards. It's $49 the night for one person. We also have breakfast in the morning from six to ten, and check out is at eleven."

The man took John's credit card and handed him a registration form to fill out.

"I'll need to reserve the room for two nights." John finished filling out the registration form and slid it back to the night attendant.

"That's fine. I don't guess we'll be seeing you in the morning for breakfast. You look as though you've had a rough night," the little man smiled, making idle conversation.

"I've had better, and I won't need a wake-up call in the morning, either." John picked up the credit card and put it back in his wallet.

"You'll be in room twenty-three; it's down on the right side of the building. I hope you find the room comfortable."

The clerk handed John the key and then motioned in the direction of the room.

"Thanks, I'm sure it will be okay. Goodnight." John put the key in his pocket and walked to his car.

"Goodnight." The man turned off the light in the office and walked back to his room.

***

John parked in the parking space in front of room 23. He got out, locked the car, and then walked to the door of the room. He could not believe everything happening to him lately. First, Erebus had made him question the findings in his cases. Then he learned Kathy and Tom had been conspiring behind his back. How could things have taken such a turn? He put the key in the lock, opened the door, and reached inside to turn on the light.

"Oh crap, what a dump!" he moaned.

The room looked horrible. Flowered wallpaper covered the walls, resembling the same one his aunt still had in her kitchen since the seventies. There were large orange flowers with green vines connecting them, and he had to admit it was the ugliest thing he had ever seen.

The bed looked as though it had been around for as long as the wallpaper, judging by the large crater in the center of it. Then to finish off the unsightly room, avocado green shag carpeting covered the floor with strange stains all over it.

John took a deep breath, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.

The day had taken its toll on John, so he decided a warm shower before bed might help him to relax. He stripped down to his briefs, walked to the bathroom, but when he turned on the light, he discovered the bathroom was even worse.

Attached to the wall next to the toilet was the sink. They had connected the right corner two inches lower than the left, but what caught John's attention was the fact they had mounted the sink, maybe two feet from the floor.

"Damn, who designed this room, a midget?"

He looked closer and noticed a steady stream of water flowing from the faucet, making a dark, rust stain inside the sink. "Well, that's about right."

Next, John glanced over at the toilet and realized it was so low to the floor that he was sure they must have bought it at an elementary school. "Oh, great," he moaned.

However, it was the sight of the small, rusty, metal shower stall with no shower curtain in the back corner of the bathroom that dashed his plans for a relaxing shower. "So much for cleaning up," he groaned.

John looked around the bathroom and noticed something dark all over the ceiling.

"What's that?" He looked closer, "Oh shit, its mold! Well, that's just about right."

John looked one more time at the shower stall. No way, I just can't deal with that tonight.

As he turned the light out in the bathroom, he prayed some sleep would help to clear his mind.

John walked over to the bed. "How is anyone supposed to sleep in this?" The queen-sized bed looked as though used as a trampoline, due to the large crater in the center. John was exhausted, but merely looking at the bed made his back hurt.

He reached down and pulled back the blanket. "What the hell is that?"

Lying on the rust-stained sheets was a large, strange-looking bug. Unsure if it was dead or not, John decided not to take any chances. He quickly threw the blanket back over it, hoping it stayed there for the rest of the night.

Things just keep getting better. John knew there was no sense in waking up the motel owner to complain, so he decided to sleep in the recliner by the front window. It was a tattered and old, but more inviting than the bed.

John could not shake the image of Kathy's face as he was leaving. Maybe I should call and, at least, let her know I'm all right.

He reached for his pants, "Shit, I left my cell phone in the car. Oh well, I'll call her first thing in the morning."

John sat in the recliner, trying to find a comfortable position when he suddenly noticed a strange smell. "Oh, now that's just great!" He had no idea what the smell was, or even if he should care because sleeping in the bed with a giant bug was not an option. John decided to ignore the offensive odor and try to get some rest.

***

John awoke to the sound of the room telephone ringing. Crap, who could that be; no one knows I am here. "Hello," he murmured as he picked up the receiver.

"Good morning, John, I'm glad to see you are all right. I imagined the dog on the road last night gave you quite a scare."

"How do you know about that, and how do you know where I am?" John could not believe how Erebus always managed to be one step ahead of him.

"You do need to be more careful. How are we going to continue with this relationship if you're so careless?"

"Relationship, what relationship? The only thing I want is to prove you killed those people!"

John felt his blood burn with rage. How did he know where to find me? "What do you want now?" John demanded.

"I only wanted to make sure you were okay. You appeared rather upset last night, John. I know it must have been shocking to learn of their deception. To learn how they kept that secret from you all, this time must make you feel like a fool. To discover your career and marriage is nothing but lies must be painful. Poor John, you're just not the man you thought you were." Erebus enjoyed watching his opponent as they realized their life was crumbling around them.

"You asshole, I can't wait to arrest you. You may believe you have the upper hand now, but you will make a mistake, and then..." John could barely contain himself.

"Then what, John; you'll lock me up for the rest of my life? How heroic of you. Just as the lawmen did all those years ago. Oh my, I'm quaking in my boots," Erebus chuckled, barely able to contain his joy. John was more fun than he had expected.

"John, I truly am thrilled to have found you; you're a rare treasure. Tell me, have you solved the mystery of each piece in The Game yet? I'm guessing not, based on your behavior."

"Solved? I've looked into each of the cases you refer to as your pieces, but they're just what they appear to be; the evidence is clear-cut and precise. You say they're not because you set all this up as part of a game, but how do I know you're not lying? Hell, you seem to know all about me, as well as what I will do before I do. How do I know you're not trying to make me second-guess myself? Is that what your game is?"

John had no idea if Erebus just enjoyed getting his rocks off by pretending to be a killer, or if he was one for real. If the former were true, how did he already have the picture of the lawyer's wife? How did he know about the photos in Charles Everett's safe, and the prostitute's nipples were in the jeweled box? Only someone deeply involved with each crime would know that information.

"John, please don't give up. You need to have faith in your superior abilities as a detective. You haven't given up before, so don't begin now."

"How is it you know of my past? How long have you been watching me?" A chill suddenly washed over John.

Do I know this, Erebus? Is he someone I arrested, who now has come back to exact revenge? Maybe he's someone from the department who's jealous of my success.

John knew he had stepped on a few toes over the years, but everyone has, right? He knew he had not been a team player since Ray died, but he could not bring himself to get close to anyone he worked with again.

"You need to focus on the details, John. Don't worry about how long I've watched it because it's not going to help you play our game. You must concentrate on the moves, as well as what's coming up next. John, you are so close to getting into The Game. You have everything you need, and I know you will make it very stimulating," his voice was gentle and reassuring.

"Well, I am glad you find me so damn interesting because, to be honest, you're becoming a bore! You say all this crap of setting up moves and pieces in a game we're playing. The only thing I see is a sick bastard who wants to feel important by trying to make me believe he has something to do with the cases I've investigated. To be honest, I think you're a coward who pretends you're some mysterious killer, setting up murders and suicides just to get your rocks off."

John fought to remain calm, but he hoped this would strike a nerve with the asshole.

"Magnificent, John; you are now an active participant in The Game. It's very exciting to see the passion come alive inside you, but I need to end our little conversation for now because you have work to do. You need to get busy as there is much more to come."

John stood, grasping the receiver with the dial tone sounding in his ear.

"So, he wants me to get busy? Don't worry, you bastard; I'll get busy. I'll get busy and find your sorry ass, and then I'll watch your smug attitude disappear."

John picked up his keys and wallet from the dresser and headed out the door. As he climbed into his car, a feeling of empowerment surged through him, and for the first time since this whole thing began, he felt back in control.

I know just where to begin.

John started his car and backed out of the parking space, then turned toward the highway.

***

As the morning sun peeked through the curtains, Kathy was thankful the long night was finally over. She had gone through the folder several times, but none of it made any sense to her. There were several typed letters, but she did not type any of them. As for the handwritten notes, they were the greatest mystery of all, as none was in her handwriting. In fact, they were all in John's handwriting.

Why would he create that folder, and why would he blame me for a cover-up?

Kathy had nothing to do with the investigation after Ray's death, and John knew it. She was still working at the shelter when it happened, so she never would have been involved with it, regardless. Her loyalty was and has always been with John.

Maybe his drinking is worse than I was led to believe. No, that can't be it. I was only gone for a couple of days.

She shuddered at the memory of the look of rage on his face the night before. "What's going on with you, John?"

Kathy had never seen such him so angry; he looked as if he could have killed her without the slightest regret.

She rubbed her temples, trying to relieve the pain pounding in her head when a thought suddenly occurred to her. Maybe this last case triggered something in him.

She knew John had worked hard on the case, and she wondered if it had bothered him not to be in on the arrest.

Surely, that's not it? John had spoken with Kathy about the case while trying to gain an understanding of a serial killer and their thought process. She told him there were many theories, and then gave him some examples of well-known serial killers, as well as a few ideas of what drove them to commit their horrific crimes.

Kathy told John how something would trigger a desire in them, driving them to feed their hunger through the suffering of their victims. Abuse as a child was one theory used by most psychiatrists; however, the perpetrator was usually either a psychopath or a sociopath.

Kathy had never treated one in her career, but she had often wondered if, in some cases, it was they were just evil. Through the years, she had treated many people abused as a child, and none had become serial killers due to their abuse.

Kathy never believed that abuse was a single, driving the force, but merely a trigger for a psychologically unbalanced mind.

It frightened her how so many were good at hiding their dark side and fooling everyone around them while committing their heinous crimes. She also found the most dangerous of them had an image of themselves being far superior to the victims.

Charles Everett was an excellent example. He wanted to create the perfect city and was willing to kill prostitutes to feed his hunger for perfection. In his mind, he believed he was doing the city a favor by ridding it of the street trash as he called them in his many press conferences. Charles felt there was nothing wrong with killing prostitutes as they had no value to anyone.

Charles Everett was the least likely suspect, and no one would have solved the case had the officer not stopped him for a broken taillight.

Kathy always found it amusing how people would go on about what a pleasant person someone was, and then act surprised once they learned the person committed such a heinous crime.

Unfortunately, none of that mattered now because she needed to figure out what was wrong with John.

"John must be experiencing some a mental breakdown, but what brought it on? Maybe Tom will have some answers."

Kathy looked at the clock again. "He should be in the office by the time I get there," she grabbed her keys and walked out to her car.
Chapter 24

The Death of Friendship

Tom was sitting at his desk when his phone rang, "Riggs."

"Sir, Mrs. Cooper, is here and she says you're expecting her," the officer at the front desk relayed the message.

"Please ask her to come to my office." Tom could not believe the call he received from Kathy the night before. John has gone off the deep end this time.

He knew when John was in his office the last time he was drinking again, but he did not think it had gone as far as it had.

Tom took another sip of his coffee as Kathy peeked in the door. "Come in, Kathy, please, sit down," he motioned toward the chair across from his desk.

"Thank you for seeing me, Tom. I don't know what to do; I'm so scared for John."

Kathy sat in the chair and wiped a tear from her eye. "He hasn't come home or even checked in. I've tried calling his cell phone, but it goes straight to his voice mail. I don't understand, Tom. None of what has happened the last few days makes any sense. He's changed, and I don't get it."

"I wish I had seen this coming the other day when I sent him home, but I never thought he would react this way. I'm sorry, Kathy. I just can't have my detectives second-guessing the evidence once a case closed."

Tom regretted he had not realized John was in trouble. "Did you bring the folder with you?"

Kathy handed Tom the folder. "Well, let's see what we have here."

Tom opened the folder and spread its contents on his desk. He looked at each page, carefully reading each one, and then he read them again. "You're right, this doesn't make any sense; we never wrote any of these."

"I know, Tom, and look at all the handwritten notes; that's John's handwriting! It must be something he put together himself, but why? What would he have to gain by doing this?"

Kathy fought to hold back the tears. "I know this wasn't there when I left for Florida. I cleaned out my desk a couple of weeks ago, and it wasn't there at the time. I wish I knew what was going through his mind. What am I going to do?"

"Kathy, I have no idea. I have to agree with you, though; I never saw this coming. After the Everett arrest, he began to say how he had doubts, and maybe someone else committed the murders. I have to tell you I was surprised when he went to the jail and spoke with Everett and afterward went to talk with the man's wife. The poor woman was very upset, and I sure didn't enjoy the ass-chewing I got from the Mayor's office over John's little visit with her. I could've gone my whole life without that phone call."

The Mayor had made it quite clear to Tom that John was never to bother Mrs. Everett again. He then told Tom if he wanted to keep his rank to make sure John left the case alone.

"Kathy, he ruffled some feathers at the mayor's office. We need to make sure he lets go of this for everyone's sake."

"Oh, Tom, I'm sorry. No one should have to go through that."

Kathy had heard how the mayor could be a difficult man, and she knew he did not want the press to learn John was still investigating the Everett case.

"Tom, why do you think John believes someone framed Charles Everett? Do you think he was upset about not being the one to make the arrest? Surely that's not it?"

Kathy knew John took pride in his job and put his heart and soul into solving every case, but for him to question the evidence was so out of character.

"Tom, why do you think he made up the contents of the folder?" She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

"To be honest, I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on that. You're the psychologist. From what I see, he's losing touch with reality, and for some strange reason, he's felt the need to create this fantasy of you and I conspiring against him. I don't know why that after all, these years, he would come up with this, Kathy. I thought Ray's death was behind us," Tom put all the paperwork back in the folder and laid it back on his desk.

"It was such a terrible time, and I honestly didn't believe John would make it through it all. Tom, we've been happy since he stopped drinking. In fact, we just celebrated our twelfth wedding anniversary the other night. It was a perfect evening, but then I leave for a seminar in Florida, and all hell breaks loose. I guess I should have stayed home. Maybe if I had not gone..." Her voice trailed off as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. John was everything to Kathy, and she could not imagine her life without him.

"Kathy, you can't feel that way; there's nothing you could have done differently. John has a problem, and we need to work together to help him. I can't put out a missing person's report yet, but I will have everyone keep an eye open for him. Now, you need to go home and see if you can find any clues before something terrible happens. I know you're worried. Hell, I am, too, but we need to hold ourselves together for John's sake. Do you mind if I keep this folder and go through it some more? Maybe I'll find a clue to what's going on." Tom knew he probably wouldn't find anything, but he wanted to keep Kathy from going through it again.

"You're right. Crying isn't going to help. I only wish I knew he was okay. John has never stayed away without letting me know where he was," she squared her shoulders and took a deep, calming breath.

"You should've seen his face last night, Tom. I've never seen such rage in John; I've never seen anything so ugly in my life. He honestly believes I betrayed him; that we both betrayed him," Kathy's voice cracked as tears streamed down her face again.

"I know, but we need to figure out what's going on. Kathy, you need to go home and get some rest. You need to be strong for John when he comes back. With some luck, maybe he's realized he was mistaken and is at home waiting for you. We'll figure this all out, so try not to worry."

Tom knew Kathy would never be able to rest until she heard from John, but he also knew there was nothing more they could do until they found him.

"Thank you for your friendship, Tom. I don't know what I would do if I had to go through this alone. Maybe you'll find something in that folder to shed some light on all of this. You're right about one thing, though; I do need to get some rest before I see him again. I'll need to be able to think clearly. I'll call you if I hear from him."

Kathy looked into Tom's eyes and smiled, "You'll call if you hear anything, won't you?

"I promise. Now, go home and get some rest. We'll talk again soon," Tom gave her a reassuring smile.

Kathy agreed because she knew there was nothing more she could do at this time. Besides, maybe John was at home waiting to clear this whole thing up.

"You're right; I need to pull myself together so I can be strong for John. Thank you for everything." As she stood to leave, Kathy prayed Tom was right, and John was safely at home.

Once she left, Tom picked up his telephone and dialed.

***

Kathy pulled into their driveway and realized John still was not home. "Where are you?"

After she had walked into the house, Kathy dropped her car keys on the table by the door. She then looked at the telephone and noticed the light flashing on the answering machine.

With a shaky finger, she pressed the play button. "Kathy, it is me. I wanted to let you know I am all right, but I won't be coming home for a couple of days. I have a few things I need to straighten out first. I can't believe what you did, but I guess you never actually know someone. It's best that I stay away until things calm down, so don't look for me," the message ended.

Kathy was not sure what to do. He believes I betrayed him. What happened to bring this on? She reached for the telephone and dialed Tom.

"Riggs." Tom was still at his desk looking through the folder Kathy had left with him. He was confused as no one used the documents or memos during the investigation of Ray's death.

"Tom, it's Kathy. When I got home, I found a message on the answering machine from John. He said he was not coming back for a couple of days, and he still believes we had something to do with the folder. Tom, he said, not to look for him. He sounded as angry as he was last night. I'm scared for him. I don't know what to do."

"Kathy, there's nothing you can do for him until he cools off and realizes he needs help. The best thing, to do, for now, is getting some rest before he comes home. You won't be any help to him if you fall apart, too."

"I know, you're right, but I don't think I can sleep without knowing where he is. Tom, if something was to happen to him..." She could not bring herself to say the words.

"I know, but you need to hold yourself together. Get some rest, and I'll work on finding him," Tom knew his words were empty, as John said not to look for him. "Please, Kathy, try and get some rest."

"I will, I promise. John and I are so blessed to have your friendship and support. You'll call if you hear anything, right?"

"I will. Now get some rest."

"Thank you for everything, Tom. Goodbye." As she hung up the telephone, Kathy looked at the picture taken on their wedding day, sitting on the mantel and wondered if things would ever be the same between them.

The sound of the wall clock chiming in the living room brought Kathy back to awareness.

"Pull yourself together; you need to be strong for John," she whispered as she wiped her tears and walked toward the staircase up to their bedroom.

***

Kathy was glad she had decided to take a shower. The warm water flowing over her body seemed to wash some of her stress away. She could not remember the last time she was so tired, so the shower was a welcome treat.

Tom's right, a nap is just what I need to help clear my mind.

Once she finished her shower, she lay on the bed, hugging John's pillow and breathing in the scent of his cologne. She smiled, remembering the first time he had worn it. It was a Christmas gift from her mother. He had teased her mom by saying she must have thought he smelled bad and needed to cover up with some expensive cologne. However, once he realized how much Kathy liked it on him, he had worn it ever since.

"Oh, John, what has happened to you?" She whispered into his pillow, wondering where he was and what he was doing.

As she lay quietly there, she found she could no longer keep her eyes open and after a few minutes, drifted off to sleep.

***

The man enjoyed watching her while she was on the telephone. It's all coming together so easily. She will be an enjoyable final piece in the game as her love for John is easy to use.

It made him chuckle how John had been quick to believe she would betray him. It always amazed him how feelings of guilt made such a powerful weapon. He smiled as she had no idea that he had watched her every move, no matter where she was in the house. She could not say or do anything without him knowing.

He enjoyed watching John when he found the folder and the growing rage on his face, as he learned of their betrayal. It was all too easy.

Of course, the best part was when poor, unsuspecting Kathy had come home early.

"Sleep well, my dear, for you have important work to do."

***

After John had left the message for Kathy, he was glad he had decided to call the home telephone instead of her cell phone. After the events of the night before, he was not ready to talk to her yet.

"Okay, where do I start? Erebus said I have everything I need, but what does that mean...shit! The folder, I left it with Kathy!" he groaned.

John knew he was drunk, and most of the details in the folder were a bit foggy in his mind, but there was no question of what Kathy and Tom had done. They betrayed him, and the thought of it made John sick.

How could the two people he trusted most in the world do that to him? John thought of all the times they assured him Ray's death was not his fault, but now he knows it was all lies. Last night in his drunken stupor, he left the only evidence he had with one of the betrayers.

Well, I'm sure you've destroyed it by now. No folder, no proof. Oh well, I don't have time to worry about that now. I need to figure how to beat this Erebus asshole at his game. Erebus, what the hell type of name is that?

John started his car, "Okay, let's begin again."

***

John had never liked this part of town with its filth and stench. It amazed him how such a beautiful and historic city could have a place of such darkness. Ray had died a few blocks from there, and it had surprised John how it had not changed any over the years. He knew it was early in the day for the working ladies to be out, but maybe he would get lucky.

***

When John turned on the road leading to where the prostitutes gathered, he noticed a small group standing on the corner. "Good. Hopefully, I won't have to come back later this evening."

John pulled up to the curb and rolled down the passenger window. He watched as one of them walked over to his car and leaned in the open window.

"Hey, honey, you want a date?"

"No, thanks, only answers," John smiled, hoping he did not frighten her away.

She backed away from the car. "Are you a cop? I don't want no trouble with a cop."

"Yes, I am, but I am not here to hassle you. I need some answers about the murdered working girls. I'll pay for your time." John hoped the offer of money would put her mind at ease.

"I don't know. How do I know as soon as we talk price, you won't arrest me?" After spending a few nights in jail, talking to a police officer made her nervous.

"I don't plan to arrest you. I only need information. I have one hundred dollars, is that enough for your time?" He held up a one hundred bill for her to see.

"Get in, so we can go somewhere to talk." John planned to drive to a small strip mall about six blocks away, hoping no one would see them.

She hesitated a moment, but getting one hundred dollars for merely talking was too hard to resist.

"Okay, it is your time, honey," she smiled, then got in the car, and they drove away.

John drove toward the strip mall, feeling confident he could get the information he needed, and then get her back to her corner without anyone seeing them together. Once there, he pulled into a parking space along the side of a building and turned off the car.

John must have appeared nervous because she leaned over and placed her hand on his thigh.

"Are you sure you're all right? You know for a hundred bucks, I'd be willing to help you relax a bit," she smiled.

My name is Pleasure, and I know how to give it," she smiled as she slid her hand higher up his thigh.

"Uh...no...I told you I only want information." John grabbed her hand, lifting it off his thigh. "The only thing I need from you is answers to my questions."

"Alright, alright, don't get upset. I get it. You want information only, Officer. So, what do you want to know? The other cops have already asked us all sorts of questions. I don't know how I can help anymore," Pleasure pulled her hand away from his then leaned back against the car door. "Okay, but before we get started, what's your name?"

"You don't need to know my name, let's just keep this simple. I'll do the asking today, and you only need to answer, fair enough?" John did not want to give his name in case someone else talked to her.

"Okay, if that's the way you want it. Ask away; it's your time," Pleasure pulled her legs up to her chest, grasping them with her arms, "I'll do my best to help."

"Did you know any of the victims?" John held his breath, waiting for her answer.

Pleasure had paused a moment before she answered him. "No, I didn't know any of them personally, but I did see the last one around here a few times before he killed her. She wasn't on the streets for very long. It's a real shame, hell; she wasn't even using. I don't understand why she was turnin' tricks, you know. I guess she had her reasons. We all do."

Pleasure held up her arms to show the track marks on them. "I guess we all have our demons to fight, huh?"

John nodded his acknowledgment for as much as anyone; he understood the battle with one's demons.

"Yeah, it's always sad when you give in to your weaknesses." John shook his head to clear his thoughts. "At any rate, did you happen to see the man who was picking up the girls? Maybe the car he drove, or anything else, might stand out in your memory?"

"I did see the same car hanging around a lot. It was silver and very nice. I never saw who was in it, but Sharese said she saw him pull up and wait for different girls. In fact, she said he was hanging around the night Trina died. She didn't get to see Trina get in the car with him because she was on a date."

Pleasure looked at John, wondering what this was about since the news said the killer was in jail. "She did say the same car was hanging around the last few weeks. You know who might be some help is Monet. She talked to him that night, and boy, did he piss her off. The bitch thinks she's all that, so when he turned her down for Trina, she wanted to slit his throat," Pleasure laughed at the thought of Monet rejected again. She had never liked Monet; she was the type to cause you big trouble if she thought it would benefit her.

"Monet, is she out today? What does she look like?" Maybe this was the break he needed.

"No, she won't come out until later tonight. She's like a bat, only comes out after dark," Pleasure giggled.

"But to be honest with you, I think she only works nights so the Johns can't see her ugly ass."

Pleasure laughed, "Shit, she's so junked up the only way a man would want her is in complete darkness!"

While John enjoyed this conversation with Pleasure, he was growing impatient. "Will she be there tonight? How do I find her?"

Pleasure realized he was upset and returned her focus to his question. "Yeah, she'll be out tonight. She's there every night. You'll know her by that raggedy-ass, red skirt, and them wore out thigh-high boots she wears all the time. The damn fool thinks they make her look good," Pleasure snickered and rolled her eyes.

"Thank you for your help, Pleasure. I appreciate it more than you know." John handed her the money and then started the car.

"Hey, did that guy really do all those things to the girls?" Her eyes were moist with tears.

John knew he could not tell her anything though he wanted to with the hope she would stop prostituting and straighten out her life. He felt sorry for her, and strangely, he found her to be quite likable. "Yeah, he did everything you've heard and more."

"You know something; it could've been me just as easy as it was them. You don't think about things like that happening when you are out there, but when it happens to girls you've seen working on the same corner just like you, well, you know."

Pleasure smiled, then folded the money and put it in a small pocket in her shorts. "Well, at least, you guys caught him. I hope the bastard burns in hell for what he did!"

John wanted to say, No, we didn't catch him, so you are not safe out here, but he knew it would be a lie.

As far as the world knew, the killer sat safely in jail, awaiting trial.

"Yeah, he's locked up, right where he should be. You don't need to worry; the monster that killed them will pay, and pay dearly!"

John knew he needed to get busy and stop Erebus before he killed again.

"I'll make sure of it myself," he mumbled under his breath, hoping Pleasure had not heard him.

"Well, it is time to get you back." John pulled the car out of the parking lot and drove back to the corner where he picked her up.

As he pulled up to the curb, Pleasure reached over and touched his arm. "Thank you, Officer. I know we're safe with someone like you watching out for us," she smiled, then turned around and opened the door to get out.

"Hey, Pleasure, be careful out there. You know there's always help if you want to stop this, right?" The thought of her and the other women out on the streets with the killer still on the loose worried him.

"Don't worry about me. I'm like a cat; I always land on my feet. Besides, I feel safer knowing there are cops like you looking out for us girls."

Pleasure got out of the car, closed the door, and then leaned in the window.

"Thanks for keeping your word, and not giving me any hassle. You're okay for a cop," she laughed and then winked at him.

"If you're ever feeling lonely, come look me up. You can have one on the house," Pleasure smiled then walked back to the group gathered by the streetlight.

John mulled over what she had said as he pulled back out onto the street. "Well, I guess I need to come back tonight and have a little visit with Monet."
Chapter 25

Lies and Betrayal

Kathy awoke from her nap, feeling refreshed. She looked around the room, hoping John had come home, but everything was as it had been earlier. She walked downstairs to the kitchen and started some water for tea when the doorbell rang.

"One minute, please." Kathy hurried to the front door and opened it to see a delivery person standing there with an envelope.

The look of disappointment on her face must have been obvious. "I guess you were expecting someone else. Are you Mrs. Cooper?" The young man smiled, then held out a clipboard for her to sign.

"Uh...yes. I'm Mrs. Cooper, but I wasn't expecting anything." Kathy took the clipboard, signed the form, and then took the envelope as she handed the clipboard back to him.

"Well, hopefully, it's good news. Thank you, and have a pleasant day." The young man took the clipboard from her and turned to walk back to his truck.

Once she closed the front door, Kathy walked back to her office and sat at her desk. She noticed there was no return address on the outside of the envelope, so she had no idea who sent it.

She began to open the envelope when she heard the tea kettle whistle, "Oh shit, I forgot my tea!"

She laid the envelope on her desk, then she walked to the kitchen to make the tea. "I wonder who would send me a delivery," she picked up the cup of tea and walked back to her office.

Kathy set the cup down on her desk then sat in her chair. She was about to open the envelope when the telephone rang, "Hello."

"Kathy, it's Tom; I wanted to check on you and see how you're doing."

Tom was worried she might have tried to find John on her own instead of going home to rest.

"I'm holding together, as well as can be expected. Have you heard anything yet?"

"No, not yet, but I do have a question for you that might be embarrassing. Have you and John been having problems lately? I know you said this was all a surprise to you, but could there be something you're overlooking?"

Tom held his breath, but he knew the answer before she even said it. He knew from experience how good John was at hiding his problems. Hell, it was months before we realized his drinking problem, and by then it was almost too late.

"No, not at all, things were perfect before I left for Florida. As I keep saying, none of this makes any sense. I knew he was concerned about that case, but he didn't sound upset that he was not in on the arrest. Honestly, he seemed relieved it was finally over. We had talked the night before I came home, and he seemed fine. He even told me to go out with my friends and party it up. I had no idea what was going on here until I got a telephone message from someone telling me John got suspended from work and was drinking again. I rushed home and found him in a rage about a report you and I supposedly wrote regarding Ray's death. Tom, he wouldn't listen to anything I said. He still hasn't come home, and I have no idea what to do."

"Kathy, I've looked through the folder several times, and I know I didn't write any of those memos or reports. The thing that confuses me is how the memos were written on my personal letterhead. If I didn't know better, I'd believe that I wrote them, but I know it's not true. As to the handwritten notes, I pulled up some of John's notes from past cases, and you're right, it does appear to be his handwriting. Kathy, something is wrong here. Why would John create this fake file, and then say we did it?" Tom did not like the direction this conversation was going.

"I know; I can't figure it out myself. If you could've seen the expression on his face... Oh, Tom, he believes we wrote everything in that file," Kathy fought back the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Tom, I'm scared. He's out there somewhere, believing we betrayed him. What if he does something stupid? I don't think I could handle it if anything..." her voice trailed off.

The thought of losing John was more than Kathy could bear. John was her life, and she could not imagine living without him.

Tom was experiencing the same fears. There had always been a special place in his heart for John. Tom knew John's uncle when John was still working as a patrol officer. Therefore, when John's uncle died, Tom felt it was his duty to keep an eye on John.

Tom never had a son of his own, so John filled that void perfectly. John would tease Tom about how having daughters was the reason for his hair loss.

However, Tom never had the heart to tell John he had lost a few hairs worrying about him as well. "I know, I'm worried, too. I only wish I knew what to do."

Tom looked up when he heard a noise at the door and noticed Officer Chandley standing there holding an envelope.

"Kathy, I need to go. I'll call you if I find out anything, okay?"

"Okay, and I'll do the same. Thank you again, goodbye." Once Kathy hung up the telephone, she reached for her tea and took a sip.

***

After he had hung up the telephone, Tom motioned, letting the officer know to come in.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but this came in for you marked URGENT," the officer handed the envelope to Tom.

"That is fine, thank you. Close the door behind you when you leave," Tom took the envelope and waited until the officer left before opening it.

"Yes sir," he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Tom looked at the envelope, noticing there was no return address on it. "What's this?"

Tom tore the strip off the back of the envelope then dumped its contents on his desk. However, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

***

"Okay, let's see what's in this envelope." Kathy had no idea why she would get a delivery today unless it had to do with leaving the convention early. "Maybe I left something behind at the motel."

She pulled the strip off the back and poured the contents on her desktop. "Oh my, what's this?"

Kathy could not believe her eyes. It was pictures of John, and he was with a woman. In fact, not just any woman, she appeared to be a prostitute.

"What's he doing?" Kathy looked through the pictures, not wanting to believe what was in them. One showed the woman getting into the car with him, and another showed him giving her money. There was even one where it looked as if she had touched him seductively.

"Oh, John, what are you up to?" she whimpered.

Kathy looked at the pictures again, but this time, she noticed a date stamped on the back of them.

"No, these were taken today!"

As Kathy looked at the pictures, a terrible thought suddenly came to her. Did John hire her for sex? No, that can't be it. John would never do that, would he? He hasn't been acting like himself, so maybe he...no, please, don't let it be that!"

Kathy put the pictures back inside the envelope. "What do I do now? I don't know if I should be angry or concerned."

In all the years they had been together, Kathy had never worried he would stray. "How long have you been doing this, John? I should have known, right? I'm sure a woman would know when her husband is cheating on her. How would you not?"

Kathy wanted to believe in John, but she had to admit her growing doubts were becoming harder to deny.

In her many years of counseling, Kathy had worked with women caught completely by surprise of their husband's wandering ways. She had always believed there would be signs if you only looked for them. The thing was; she saw no such signs in their marriage.

Kathy thought she knew the signs of a cheater, such as staying out late, hushed phone conversations, and going straight to the shower once home. Sure, John worked late from time to time, but he always called to let her know not to worry.

Suddenly a thought came to her. He must have met her while he was working on this last case. Of course, that's it, but why was he with her today? The case is over, so there was no reason to talk to her now.

Kathy felt as if she would explode if she did not do something soon. "I can't just sit here and do nothing." She put the pictures back in the envelope and rushed out to her car.

***

He enjoyed the look of shock and despair on her face when she opened the envelope, finding the pictures of her beloved with another woman.

This piece is playing right into the game. He always enjoyed toying with the trust between lovers, as more often than not, they were quick to question the loyalty of the other. It pleased him how this phase of The Game was coming together. It had turned out better than expected. A rush of excitement surged through him at the thought of what was next. "Things should become interesting from now on," he smiled, with joyous anticipation.
Chapter 26

Sex and Games

Tom sat in silence, staring at the pictures. For the life of him, he could not figure out what John was doing with a prostitute. He held one up and noticed a date stamped on the back. "These were taken today. What are you thinking, John?"

Tom had warned John to leave the Everett case alone, so this turn of events was quite upsetting. "Damn it, we have the killer locked up and awaiting trial. You have no reason to be out there talking to anyone about the case."

Tom was surprised at how John had put himself in such a ridiculous position. He looked down at the pictures again. It was unfortunate enough to have a photo of her leaning in close and touching him, but the picture of him handing her money was unforgivable.

Crap, this is the last thing John needs. Then another thought came to his mind. Who took these pictures, and am I the only one to receive copies of them?

"Oh, shit!" Tom quickly dialed Kathy, praying his fear was unfounded. It rang several times with no answer.

"Please pick up." Tom's heart raced as he heard the phone ring several more times. "Damn it, Kathy, where are you?"

***

Kathy realized she was driving around aimlessly after rushing out of the house without a plan of what to do or where to go.

"Should I show these to Tom? No, I can't bear the idea of showing them to anybody." Just the thought of someone else seeing the photos made Kathy sick.

"Maybe I should find the woman in the pictures and talk to her. "Damn, if he's only asking questions about the case, he'll be furious with me for interfering."

With everything going on, Kathy needed to learn the truth about the pictures.

"But where do I find her?" she groaned. Kathy knew where the prostitutes hung out, but she was not sure if she wanted to go there.

"This isn't the time to be a coward; I can do this." Kathy squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and then turned at the next intersection.

***

The evening sun casts a long shadow over the city, as it surrendered to the crisp, chill of the night air. Noticing four women standing, huddled together on a corner, Kathy decided to pull up next to them and ask if they knew the women in the pictures.

She swallowed hard and rolled down her window. "Excuse me," doing her best to hide the fear growing inside of her.

The group of women turned toward the shaky voice and noticed a well-dressed woman in the car parked next to them. The tallest of the group turned to face Kathy, "Well, look what we have here; a lady from suburbs has dropped by for some fun."

They all laughed at the nervous-looking woman in the car and wondered what brought her to their part of town.

"Whatcha lookin' for tonight, honey? Maybe you need a little sugar for your pussy?" They all laughed again, as they moved closer for a better look at the suburban housewife, slumming it in this part of town.

Kathy felt her cheeks flush red at the invitation. No one had ever spoken to her in this manner before, and she prayed it would never happen again.

"No, thank you, I only want to know if any of you know this woman." Kathy held up one of the pictures of the woman in the car with John.

The woman in a leopard print dress reached through the window and took the picture from Kathy's shaking hand. "So, your man's having his fun, huh? That ain't no big deal. Hell, they all do it from time to time." They all laughed again.

Kathy ignored the statement and asked again. "Please, do any of you know who this is?"

Kathy hated being there, but she knew it was the best way to find John.

The women all took turns looking at the picture while giggling and acting as though they had no idea who the woman was.

"Sorry, honey, none of us seem to remember who this is," the one holding the picture, said.

Kathy saw the knowing glances shared between the women. So, that's the game you want to play; the words burned in Kathy's mind.

"Will twenty dollars each refresh your memories?" Kathy reached for her wallet.

"Make it twenty-five, and you got a deal," the tall one answered while the others nodded in agreement.

Kathy pulled a hundred-dollar bill out of her purse and held it out for them. "Here you go, twenty-five each. Now, do any of you know this woman?"

The one in the leopard print dress took the money and put it in her bra, "Thank you. Ya know, come to think of it, we do recognize her. Her name is Pleasure. We saw her get in a car and leave with the good-looking man in the picture earlier. Boy, you two sure like to carry hundred-dollar bills. He gave Pleasure one too. She was braggin' how he told her she was worth every penny, and she'd do him anytime for free because he knew how to treat a lady. She said he was one fine man." They all laughed again.

"She ain't here right now; she's on a date," the woman smiled then handed the picture back to Kathy.

The words burned into Kathy's brain, She said he was wonderful, and she'd do him anytime for free! Oh God, he did hire her for sex!

"Hey, are you all right, honey? Don't you worry about it; men do it all the time. Maybe he was just a little bored and wanted to try something new? You know how it is; sometimes you need a little something different to get them juices flowin' again." The others nodded in agreement.

"Hey, I got an idea! How about we show you some tricks you can take home to spice things up? You know us girls need to stick together. Besides, when we've finished with you, you'll feel a whole lot better," she leaned in the window then ran her hand between Kathy's legs, gently caressing her thigh.

Kathy froze in place, shocked and unsure of what to do. First, her husband was cheating on her, and now this woman and her friends wanted to have sex with her. Oh God, can things get any worse?

Kathy grabbed the offending hand and pulled it away. "No, I don't want anything like that! I only want to know where my husband is and then go home."

Tears streamed down Kathy's face as she fought to compose herself. All she wanted to do was find John and get her life back on track.

"Hey, I'm sorry. We didn't mean to upset you; we just thought you might want to even things up with your man. Are you sure you don't want a little adventure for yourself? I know we can make you feel much better," she pulled her hand away but stayed close to the window.

Kathy wanted to get away from there as fast as she could. "No, thank you. I need to get going. You've all been quite helpful, goodbye."

After rolling up the window, she started the car and pulled back out onto the street. "Oh, God, I need to get back home before anything else happens."

As the women watched Kathy pull away, they chuckled about the little housewife from the suburbs visiting in their part of town. They all knew she was terrified to be there, looking for her cheating husband. Unfortunately, they also knew if she found him, it would not change the fact he had found his thrills with another woman.

Once Kathy was out of sight, the other three women turned to the one with the money and said in unison, "Hey, where's ours?"

"Stop worrying, bitches; you'll get your share." They looked at each other then all laughed about the enjoyable visit with the sexy, little housewife from the suburbs. "Too bad she didn't want to play; we sure could've had some fun with that."

***

It only continues to get better with each new move, Erebus grinned as he watched her get into her car and drive away. At first, he wondered where she would go since she did not seem to have any actual destination. However, when she pulled up next to the creatures standing on the street corner, he knew this move would be a superb one.

Kathy had proven herself an excellent piece in the game. It thrilled him when the creatures informed her of Pleasure's offer to John. To prove one's spouse of infidelity was a joy to behold. Kathy would never deny John had sex with the one in the pictures now.

Technology is a beautiful thing. It always amazed him how people felt safe and secure in their daily lives. However, they would live in constant fear if they knew the truth. No aspect of one's life was safe from prying eyes.

***

As Kathy drove away, her heart pounded with such force in her chest; she believed it would explode. Her mind spun wildly, not wanting to believe what just happened.

"Why would John go to a prostitute?" The words escaped her mouth as the pain she felt consumed her soul. The very thought of John turning to a prostitute was more than she could bear.

What's going on with him lately to cause all of this? First, all the drinking again, then he produces a fake report about Ray's death, and now this. Surely, he's suffering from some sort of a mental breakdown, but why? That's the only thing making any sense, but how can I help him if I do not know where he is?

Kathy snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of a loud horn.

"Oh shit!" she shrieked, realizing she just ran a red light and nearly hit another car.

"I need to calm down before I kill someone." Kathy decided it was best to pull over to the side of the road and gather her thoughts before continuing.

***

John returned to the motel, mulling over his conversation with Pleasure. He decided to ask for a better room and relax a bit before his visit with Monet tonight.

Pleasure's words kept replaying in his mind. It could've been me; you know. I'm just thankful we have cops like you watching out for us.

The problem is, the killer is still out there, so is she safe? Will Erebus decide he needs to add a few more pieces to his sick game?

A cold chill flowed over John, and he wondered who would be the next one chosen? Too many lives have been destroyed already, and the thought of others losing their lives was something John did not want to contemplate. The worst thing was, he had no idea how to stop it.

"Erebus keeps saying I have everything needed to figure out why he chooses each piece, but what is it?"

First, there was the City Councilman then the two businessmen, and lastly, the wealthy lawyer and his wife.

"But why choose them? Erebus keeps saying it was nothing personal, and how they are merely pieces in the game. Usually, the reason to commit murder is out of a need for revenge or greed, but it doesn't appear to be the reason here."

John suspected there is nothing to gain financially, so maybe Erebus had some other dealings with these people in the past.

"No, that can't be it. He has made it clear there was nothing personal about his choices. Damn it, what are you up too, Erebus?"

John pulled into the driveway of the motel and parked in front of the office. He turned off his car and went inside.

"Good afternoon; how may I help you today?" The woman who sat behind the large counter smiled as she closed the book she had been reading and set it aside.

John assumed she must be the wife of the man who checked him in. Dressed in a bright floral dress, with her gray hair twisted up into a knot atop her head, made for an amusing image. Then to complete the ensemble, hot pink, rhinestone-studded reading glasses, which curved up at the corners framed her large, blue eyes.

Yes, she's his wife, John, thought to himself.

John had cleared his throat before he spoke, "My name is John Cooper, and I am staying in room 23. I hate to complain, but I need a different room? It isn't satisfactory at all."

"It isn't? What's wrong with it?" The look on her face now showed concern.

"I can't sleep on the bed, it's just too soft," he smiled, hoping this would pacify her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess we can move you to Room 16; the bed is newer."

She stood and walked to the pegboard on the wall behind her, pulled off the key for Room 16, and handed it to him.

"I am sorry the bed was uncomfortable for you last night; hopefully, this one will be better. After you get your things out of the other room, just leave the key on the dresser. Housekeeping will get it later."

John smiled and took the key from her. "Thank you, but I didn't leave anything in the room when I left earlier, so you can have the key now." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key then handed it to her.

"Oh, that's fine," she took the key and returned it to the pegboard over the number 23.

"If there is anything else that we can do to make your stay with us more comfortable, please let us know," she smiled.

"Thank you, I will. I'm sure everything will be okay with the new room."

John walked back out to his car and drove to his new room.

"Let's hope this one is better." He put the key in the lock, then once he heard the click of the tumbler, he held his breath and opened the door.

John had to admit this room appeared to be better than the last one. At least, there was no wallpaper with the large orange flowers on it.

"So far, so good," he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
Chapter 27

Kathy's Fear

Kathy sat outside of the police department, trying to clear her mind before going inside to talk to Tom again.

"How could John do something like that?" Her hands trembled as she rested her forehead on the steering wheel, fighting back the tears forming in her eyes.

"Damn, I need to pull myself together. I won't be any good for John if I fall apart." Kathy knew there had to be a logical reason for everything going on, but what is it?"

The events of the last two days replayed in her mind like a nightmare from which she could not awaken.

Suddenly, the image of the prostitutes from her earlier meeting crept into her mind.

How humiliating! I can't believe I went there.

Kathy knew that even with all the unpleasantness she experienced, she would do it again to find John.

She thought back to the look of rage on his face when he shoved the folder at her.

He has to know I love him and would never conspire against him.

Kathy sat up straight, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Nothing will get done if I sit here feeling sorry for myself."

She took the key out of the ignition and opened the door. "Maybe Tom has heard something?"

***

"Oh, Kathy, come in," Tom motioned for her to sit in the chair across from his desk. He had been through the pictures of John, trying to see anything that might help find him.

"By the expression on your face, I gather you haven't heard from John or found where he is yet."

Tom pushed the envelope with the pictures of John and the prostitute aside, trying not to draw attention to it. If Kathy did not receive the same envelope, he did not want to upset her any more than she already was.

Unfortunately, Kathy recognized the envelope label from the courier company. "Oh, God, you got the same pictures!"

She leaned forward to grab the envelope, but Tom pulled it away.

"What is going on, Tom?" Her voice was a mixture of anger and agony.

"I wish I knew. I gather you received the pictures, too. I don't understand this, Kathy. Why would John be with a prostitute, but more importantly, who was following him and taking these pictures?"

Tom knew John had made enemies through his years at the force, so maybe it was one of them.

"Kathy, was there a note in your envelope?"

"No, only the pictures."

She wanted to tell Tom of her visit with the prostitutes, but she was too ashamed. "Who do you think took them?"

"I don't have a clue. Maybe we should contact the courier company and see if they can shed some light on this." Tom reached for the telephone and dialed. After a few rings, someone answered.

"On-Time Courier Service, how may I help you?" The voice of the young woman was crisp and cheerful."

"This is Captain Tom Riggs of the Philadelphia Police Department. I need some information on a couple of deliveries your company made today." Tom knew he would probably run into a problem if they required a warrant to release information, but it was worth a try.

"Oh, you'll need to speak to Jack, our manager about that. Please hold while I transfer."

The phone rang twice, and then a male voice answered, "Jack Mathews, how may I help you today?"

"This is Captain Tom Riggs of the Philadelphia Police Department. Your company delivered a couple of envelopes today. You delivered one to the department addressed to me and the other to a private residence. I need to know who sent them," Tom held his breath as he waited for an answer.

"Captain, I'm sure you know I can't give out that information over the telephone. I'll need a photo ID to confirm you're who you say you are."

The last thing Jack wanted was to upset Tom by being difficult, but with the liability issues he faced, he could not be too careful.

"You said we delivered the first envelope to you at the department, correct?"

"Yes, but I need to know about both of them." Tom did not intend to let Jack turn him down. "I was hoping I wouldn't need a warrant, but if you insist..."

Not wanting to involve corporate with a warrant, Jack hoped he could find a way to help Tom with his request.

"Well, okay, please give me a moment to look it up on my computer and see if maybe I can save you a trip. I'll need to call you back to confirm you truly are a Captain at the Police Department."

Tom said goodbye and agreed to wait for the return call.

"Do you think he'll give you the information?" Kathy asked, wondering if this could solve the mystery of the pictures.

"I hope so. I don't think I can justify a warrant," Tom grinned.

After a few minutes, Jack called back. "Sir, did you receive the delivery about two hours ago?"

"Yes, I did," Tom held his breath.

"I have confirmed you are with the Police Department so I can tell you the two envelopes, we delivered, were dropped off and paid for by a Mr. John Cooper. I hope this helps you," Jack prayed this would not come back to bite him.

Tom fought to remain calm. The envelopes were sent by John?

"Do you have a description of the man who left the envelopes at your office?" Tom was unsure if he wanted the answer.

"No, I never saw him. We've been quite busy today, so, to be honest, I don't believe anyone had time to pay attention to what someone looked like today." Jack worried this was not the desired answer.

"Is there anything else I may help you with today, Captain?"

"No, that's all I needed. Thank you again for your help."

They both hung up the telephone without saying anything else.

Tom looked at Kathy, his face ashen with surprise. He looked at Kathy, wondering how he would tell her.

"Tom, what is it? Who sent the pictures?" The look on his face frightened her.

Tom paused a moment, gathering his thoughts before he spoke. "Kathy, we have a real problem here because the person who sent the pictures was John."

"John? No, that can't be true! He would never..." Kathy felt her body go numb. "First, he made the folder, and now this! Oh Tom, what is he up to?"

"I have no idea, but something is going on with him. I only hope we figure it out before it's too late. Are you sure you didn't notice anything strange going on with him before you left?" Tom knew the answer, but he hoped for anything that might shed some light on all of this.

"No, not at all, we had a wonderful evening the night before I flew out. In fact, he teased me about not forgetting my sunscreen." A tear-stained smile came to her lips as she remembered him laughing when he put the sunscreen into her suitcase.

"The next morning, he called me a cab and had coffee ready for me. I don't understand; it's like he's someone different from the man I left a few days ago."

Tom reached for the envelope and spread the pictures across his desk. "There has to be a reason he's doing this. I'll never accept John is cheating on you, and I certainly won't accept he sent us photos of his rendezvous! There has to be something going on with him we are missing."

Tom looked at Kathy and seeing the pained expression on her face, realized he had not chosen his words carefully. "I'm sorry; I should've said that. Please forgive me."

He looked at the pictures one last time and put them back in the envelope.

"You don't need to apologize. I wondered that myself. When I first opened the envelope, I thought someone John arrested in the past was trying to cause problems between us. I thought the pictures were taken during his investigation. That was until I looked closer at them closer and noticed the date printed on the back. The date is today! There is no reason for him to talk with any of those women. The case is over, right?"

Kathy looked at Tom, hoping he could clear this all up for her.

"Yes, it is over! I told John to let it go, and I thought he had. He knows better than to pursue this any further. He could compromise the entire case, which is why I told him to take some time off. Crap, if he's not careful, he'll jeopardize his career. Kathy, we need to find him before something else happens," Tom leaned back in his chair and combed his fingers through his hair, contemplating what to do next. "Do you have any idea where he might go?"

"Honestly, with the way he's acting, I don't. I am going to drop by Leo's Pub and see if John's been there recently. It used to be his favorite hangout so he might go there to clear his head."

Kathy shifted in her chair, not sure if she should continue. "Tom, I need to tell you something."

Unsure of how Tom would react, she cleared her throat and spoke slowly. "Earlier today, I went to find the woman in the pictures with John."

"You did what?" Her statement nearly brought Tom straight out of his chair.

Kathy held his gaze and squared her shoulders before continuing, "I said, I went to find the woman in the pictures with John. I needed to learn what was going on."

Why would you do something so foolish? That's no place for you; you might have been hurt, or worse!" The thought of Kathy going there alone, terrified Tom.

Kathy straightened her back and held her ground, "I don't care what could've happened to me. The only thing I care about is finding John!"

Tom tried to speak, but she cut him off. "Yes, I drove to where those women hang out to work. When I got there, I noticed a few of them standing on the corner. I pulled up to the curb and asked if any of them knew the woman in the pictures with John."

Tom tried to interrupt, but she kept talking, "Oh, Tom, they were different from anyone I've ever met. When I showed them the pictures, they said they knew her, but she was on a date."

"They said the woman liked John, and she would do him anytime for free!" Kathy expressed in a quivering voice as she remembered everything that they said to her.

"There has to be an explanation for this, Kathy. John would never do something like that; he loves and respects you too much."

Tom refused to believe what he was hearing. John had never shown interest in cheating on Kathy, and certainly not with prostitutes.

"I used to believe that, but now I'm not so sure. Everything is upside down, Tom. I left for Miami and was only gone a couple of days, then when I return home, my life has gone to hell. John is drinking again, and he's created a bizarre fantasy of us conspiring against him, and now this. Yesterday morning I would've said this was all a simple misunderstanding, but now I'm not so sure..." her voice trailed off.

Both of them stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. They both knew if they did not find John soon, things might end poorly.

The ringing of the telephone broke the strained silence in the room. Tom then reached out and reluctantly picked up the receiver. "Captain Riggs."

Kathy stood, pleased to use the telephone call as her opportunity to leave.

"Please, don't go," he whispered, motioning for her to stay.

She knew there was nothing more they could do until they found John. She gave a small wave goodbye and quickly left the room before he could say anything else.

Kathy walked outside, hoping to clear her mind in the evening air.

"I need to know where you are, John, and now!" She said aloud with a new determination in her voice. She straightened her shoulders and walked to her car. "Maybe Leo will have some answers for me."

***

The bar was unusually quiet this evening, with only a couple of customers hanging around in the back. It had surprised Leo to watch the well-dressed woman walk through the door as she did not appear to be the type to come to a bar alone. "Good evening, welcome to Leo's. I'm Leo, what can I get you?"

Kathy had been to the bar in the past to get John when he was drinking. She marveled at how the place still looked and smelled the same. Kathy recognized Leo immediately. He was always friendly enough, but she did not enjoy seeing him again under these circumstances.

"Yes, you may. I want to know if you've seen my husband lately."

The statement erased the smile on Leo's face. He was asked the same question many times over the years, from angry wives searching for their no-good husbands. Dealing with them was the one thing Leo hated most about owning a bar. For far too often, they blamed him for their boozing man not coming home and taking care of his family. "And your husband's name is?"

"John Cooper." Kathy never blinked while she walked toward the bar.

"You're John's wife? I'm sorry I didn't recognize you, please, sit down. Can I get you anything to drink?" Leo grinned nervously then reached for a glass.

Kathy refused to sit. "No, thank you. I only want to know if you've seen John lately."

Leo was at a loss for words. He never enjoyed getting in the middle of marital problems between a man and his wife. The last time he did, the woman shot the poor guy. The husband survived, but he'll walk with a limp for the rest of his life.

"Mrs. Cooper, I don't want to get involved in any problems you and John may be having. People come in here for different reasons, and it's not my place to get involved in their personal business. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

Kathy leaned against the bar, looking Leo in the eyes, and said in a menacing tone. "Listen, I'm trying to find my husband, and I don't plan to leave here until you tell me if he's been in here recently. It's not difficult; a simple yes or no will do. So, unless you want a major scene in your precious little bar, I suggest you begin talking!"

It had surprised Leo that Kathy would take him on in such a manner. "I'm sorry, but I cannot..."

Kathy refused to let him brush her off any longer. "You need to know I'm a close friend of Captain Tom Riggs of the Philadelphia Police Department, so unless you want him looking over your shoulder, I suggest you tell me what I want to know; NOW!"

"Alright, alright, calm down." Damn, This woman is one tough cookie; Leo thought to himself. He could see why John needed some time alone to sort things out. "He's been in here a couple of times lately. He seemed upset and said he didn't want to be bothered. He would just come in, get his drink, and sit at the table over there." Leo pointed toward the table against the back wall.

"He would stay for a couple of hours and then leave. That's all I know."

"So, you're telling me he didn't meet anyone here?" Kathy held her breath, waiting for the answer.

"No, he would come in alone. In fact, he was very firm in his wish to be left alone."

The server walked up to the bar and took the drinks Leo had waiting for her. "Thanks, Leo," she smiled, and then put the glasses on her tray and walked away.

Kathy watched as the server took the drinks to a couple sitting at one of the tables; then she turned back to Leo. "Is that all, you're sure nothing else happened?"

"I'm positive. He came in, had a few drinks, and left. I'm sorry if you two are having problems. I like John." Leo prayed this would pacify her, but the look on her face told him otherwise. The last thing Leo wanted to tell her was how he had driven John's car home when he was too drunk to drive himself.

Kathy realized Leo was not going to say any more than he already had. This has been a wasted trip, now what should I do?

Kathy hated to be so pushy with Leo, but she had no choice. She wanted to know where John was and what happened to him while she was in Florida.

"I'm sorry for being so rude, thank you for your help, Leo." Kathy looked around the bar one last time, hoping John might be there.

"He's not here," Leo murmured, seeing the pained look in her eyes.

"I know, thank you again," Kathy sighed and then walked to the door.
Chapter 28

The Game Takes a Turn

John was thankful for his new room. The first thing, he noticed, was no bright, flowered wallpaper, and the room smelled clean. He walked to the bathroom, held his breath, and turned on the light.

"Good, no mold, a regular shower stall, and a shower curtain."

John decided to clean up and then rest before going back to find Monet.

The hot water felt soothing as he closed his eyes, hoping to wash away all the crap he was going, though. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get the image of Kathy out of his mind.

It amazed him how his wife, the woman he had loved and trusted for twelve years, could betray him in such a manner. It did not seem possible, but she had stood there, looking him in the eye and denied any knowledge of the folder.

What a load of crap!

He had caught her off guard, not giving her adequate time to come up with a convincing lie. It was bad enough John had to deal with Erebus, and all his crap, but to learn how Kathy and Tom had betrayed him was more than anyone should have to endure.

As devastated as he was, John knew he would never be able to discover the answers all at one time. He would have to work on each one individually, beginning with Monet. Hopefully, she would give him some useful information on the man lurking around the prostitutes.

He had just turned off the water in the shower when he heard the room telephone ringing.

"Who can that be? Maybe the motel manager wants to know if the room is satisfactory."

He grabbed a towel and rushed to the telephone.

"Hello," but to his disappointment, it was not the motel manager.

The voice was low and teasing, "Hello John, are you all right? You sound winded."

"I was great before you called. What do you want now?" John was in no mood to deal with Erebus at this time.

"My, my, such harsh words between friends. I only wanted to call and let you know I've noticed how busy you've been today. Have you learned anything important yet?"

Erebus knew the question would rile John, and he looked forward to the response with a tingle of excitement.

"Between friends, just how insane are you, and just to be clear, you are no friend of mine! As far as learning anything today, I'm sure you already know the answer. I'll tell you what I do know; I'm another step closer to finding you. What's the matter, getting nervous?"

For the first time, John felt as if he was one up on Erebus.

Erebus chuckled as the game was becoming more enjoyable by each moment. Nothing was more satisfying as when his opponent began to fight back, as it always made things more interesting.

"Good John, I knew if you put your mind to it, you would start to catch on. I look forward to what you'll do next."

"Don't get too excited, you're not going to be so glib when I slap the cuffs on you, you son-of-a-bitch!" John grew tired of his condescending comments.

"I look forward to it, John. Well, you need to get busy; we'll again talk soon." The phone went dead.

"I hate that guy! Nothing would make me happier than to put a bullet between his eyes," he growled with frustration. John knew he was no closer to figuring out Erebus, as he was his damn game, but he was not going to let the jerk know.

The consistent taunting nearly pushed John over the edge. "I need to calm down and get some rest before tonight. Maybe a short nap will help clear my head."

John walked to the bed. "Well, let's see if you are any better than the last one. So far, so good, at least, there's no crater in the middle."

He pulled the blanket back and noticed a clean set of sheets and no big bug among them. Ah, much better, he thought to himself.

John climbed into the bed and pulled the sheet and blanket over him for some much-needed rest.

***

Kathy was at a loss for what to do. Leo was no help at all, and she could not bring herself go back to the house just yet. However, Kathy did learn Leo was hiding something by the look in his eyes. She did believe John had been there alone; Leo had convinced her of that fact. Why did John feel the need to go back there? What could be so bad, as to drive him to drink again?

For the first time in years, Kathy felt alone. With her busy work schedule and John, she never felt the need for a close friend to confide in, but she wished she had one now.

"What do I do? Think!" She groaned, noticing her stomach growl.

"Maybe a meal will help me think more clearly." A small smile crossed her lips as she realized what to do.

She turned at the next intersection and headed the car toward the little pasta restaurant she would always go to when she needed to think and enjoy some comfort food.
Chapter 29

The Loss of Your Soul

As John struggled to sleep, dark images filled his dreams. He stood on the edge of a cliff with the ground crumbling beneath his feet and falling into a dark abyss. John looked down into the darkness when the image of Kathy's face formed in a swirling fog. As she moved closer, John realized she was laughing at him and chanting of what a fool he had been.

A voice filled the darkness around him, "John, stop fighting, surrender. You will never win; it's not in you to win. You are nothing but a drunk, and your life has been a lie."

"No, it's not true. I will never stop fighting you!" John struggled to escape from the voice as it wrapped itself around him. Despair filled his soul at knowing the voice was right. His life was a lie; he was nothing but a drunken fool.

"NO! Please..."

The voice laughed, removing all hope of escape. "John, why do you fight me?

"I don't want to play your game. I want my life..." John took a step back when the ground beneath his foot gave away into the dark abyss.

Next, John found himself in a large room with several caskets lined up in a row. He walked toward the caskets when the people inside sat up and looked straight at him.

Those faces; he knew every one of them. They all pointed an accusatory finger at John and said, "We died because of your choices. The sacrifice of our blood is your burden to carry."

John looked at the row of coffins with shame and dread consuming his soul. First, there was Ray. Next, it was the murdered prostitutes, Frank Campos from the internet company, and lastly, the lawyer's wife, Alisha, holding a baby tenderly in her arms. John felt their eyes burn into him, ripping his soul from his body.

From within a swirling mist, a new casket appeared. This one was beautiful, with gold and silk trim. John did not want to look inside of it, but he knew he must. He slowly stepped forward, but what appeared inside brought a cry from his lips, "Kathy? Oh, my God...no!"

She was a vision of beauty in the flowing white dress, holding a white lily to her breast. John closed his eyes, fighting to erase the image from his mind.

"Kathy, you can't be dead!" John reached for the casket, but suddenly a fog wrapped around him, preventing him from touching her.

"Please God...no!" He fell to his knees, sobbing and praying for an escape from this torment.

The others began to chime in, "She's dead because of you. We're all dead because of you."

"No, it's not true. It's not my fault!" John cried as he struggled to free himself from the demonic fog imprisoning him.

Mocking laughter sounded from off in the distance.

"Let me go! Kathy, you can't be dead!" Wails of pain burst forth from John like those of an animal caught in a trap, struggling to free itself from the agony.

Kathy opened her eyes, "John, I only wanted to protect you. Why don't you understand? You let Ray die because of your selfishness. I couldn't allow you to destroy everything we both worked so hard for. I did it to protect you, to keep us safe. Why can't you accept that?"

"No, you betrayed me! I never wanted to live a lie. How could you deceive me all those years?" The pain was overpowering, and he longed for escape. John prayed for an escape from the fog, from Kathy and the others.

"It is not my fault, I tell you!" John yelled, sitting straight up in the bed.

"Thank God, it was only a dream," John sat in bed, shaking and wet with sweat. He looked around the room before he got out of the bed and walked to the sink for a drink of water.

As he stood in front of the mirror, John thought back to the dream. All those people, is it my fault?

What confused him, though, was Kathy. Why would he dream she was dead? It must mean something else, but what?

John closed his eyes with her words flowing back into his mind. I was only trying to protect you to keep you safe. I couldn't allow you to destroy everything we worked so hard for.

"What a load of crap, you didn't do it for me. You were only interested in saving your precious career. Oh well, once I'm able to prove I'm right, you will have to eat your words."

John did not need anyone covering for him, and as for Tom, he was a fool as well. John finished his water and picked up his clothes to get dressed.

"Well, Monet should be out and about by now. Let's go see what she knows." John finished dressing, grabbed his wallet and keys, and then walked out the door.

***

Kathy folded her napkin and set it on the table beside her plate. What an incredible meal. I needed this, she thought to herself.

While enjoying a cup of espresso, Kathy sat going over the day's events. "What should I do next?"

Kathy knew it was best to go home, but the idea of finding an empty house did not appeal to her. "Well, I can't hide here forever."

The server laid the bill down on the table next to Kathy. "Is there anything else you would like tonight?

Kathy looked up at the server, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'd love it if you could turn the clock back a few days."

At seeing the confused look on the woman's face, Kathy chuckled. "No, thank you, I am fine." She smiled and then handed the woman her credit card to pay for the meal.

When Kathy left the restaurant, she noticed a chill in the night air. "If all this had not happened, I'd be returning from Florida in the morning."

She thought back to the warm Florida weather, with the sand and waves. "Stop it; you need to stay focused on what's going on!"

A crisp breeze swept over Kathy as she walked toward her car, its prickly bite, causing her to lift the collar of her coat around her neck. She thought of going back to Leo's Pub again, but instead, she decided to go on home. Besides, she out of ideas of where else to look for him.

While stopped at a red light, Kathy's mind wandered back to her talk with the prostitutes. What should I do if John had sex with that woman? What if he's been doing it for a long time?"

Kathy was lost in her thoughts when a horn honked behind her, "Oh, crap, the light!"

She knew she ought to turn and go home, but an unseen force-controlled her, one she was unable to resist.

Kathy turned off her blinker then drove straight through the intersection. She knew it was wrong, but something forced her back to the part of town where the prostitutes worked.

***

"Damn, it's cold tonight, and where the hell is everyone? Damn, I've been out here for nearly an hour, freezing my ass off!" Monet glanced in both directions, hoping to see an approaching car.

"I can't go back with no money. Shit, he'll kill me!" Her pimp told her he would punish her, but it was getting harder to make enough money to keep him happy. It was hard to work when your body screamed for release and hurt all over.

Monet craved a fix, but that took something she did not have: money. "Hell, I still owed him for the last time. He said if I came back empty-handed, I wouldn't be needn' a fix again."

Monet knew what he meant. She had seen others that owed him money vanish, never heard from again. She looked both ways down the road again, praying someone would come. "Shit!"

***

The moon casts a shimmering light down on the streets of the city. Returning to the corner where he had met Pleasure, John hoped to find Monet. It was cold outside, and John wondered how they stood it in their skimpy clothing.

He looked up ahead and noticed a woman standing by the curb. As he got closer, he saw the red skirt with thigh-high boots. She's just as Pleasure described her; that has to be her.

Excitement coursed through John, as he pulled up to the curb next to Monet.

Steady yourself, John. You don't want to scare her away. John drew in a deep calming breath then rolled down the window.

"Hey there, baby; wanna date? I know what you need," Monet cooed as she leaned inside the open window.

Taken aback by her appearance, John recognized the old and worn out look of a junkie. I bet you are not even twenty-five years old yet.

John assumed methamphetamines were Monet's choice of poison by her rotting teeth and nervous demeanor.

"Yeah, I would love to spend some time with you, but not for sex. I need information. I understand you were here the night Trina was killed?" He saw her expression suddenly change and prayed he had not screwed up.

Monet pulled back, suspicion on her face, "You a cop? I ain't talkin' to no cop!"

John hoped to put her at ease. "Not tonight, I'm not here to give you any trouble. I only need information, and you are the one who has it. I'll pay you well."

John reached into his pocket and pulled out two brand new one-hundred-dollar bills.

"I only need a few minutes of your time. I can see you are not busy, so I'm probably your best bet for the night." John waited for a moment, and when she said nothing, he put the money back in his pocket.

Monet knew he was right; no one came out on nights like this. Hell, I need money to pay what I owe and get enough to last until tomorrow.

"Okay, if you want to talk, let's talk. Besides, I'm freezing my ass off out here!"

Monet jumped into the car and flashed John a smile. "Come on, baby, I'm yours for as long as you need me tonight."

John snickered at Monet's failed attempt at seduction. Pleasure wasn't kidding about her.

"It shouldn't take long, I only have a few questions," John pulled out on the street and drove away.
Chapter 30

The End Has Come

Betrayal. The word stirs feelings of rage and pain to the one under its crushing attack. Kathy understood the range of emotions caused by that term. When Kathy left the restaurant, she planned to go home, but something pulled her back to where the prostitutes gathered.

Kathy parked up the block from the corner where she had met them earlier that day. It was dark now and growing colder. She knew if she started the car for warmth, it would give her away. Therefore, sitting in the dark, and growing colder with each passing minute, she waited.

Kathy had about given up hope when she noticed a car drive up the road from the other direction. She looked at her watch, realizing a half-hour had passed since the last car drove by her corner.

Kathy held her breath as she watched it pull up to the curb by the woman in the red skirt. "No, it can't be!"

She leaned forward for a better look. "It's John, and he's talking to another prostitute."

Kathy sat spellbound as they talked for a couple of minutes, and then she watched the woman open the door and get in.

"It's true. He's betrayed me with those women."

In her wildest dreams, Kathy would never have believed John would do something such as this. John had never shown any interest in other women, but there he was back to meet another one. Kathy sat there, unable to breathe, and watched as his car turned down the next street, out of sight.

***

Monet enjoyed the warmth inside the car. As she looked over at John, she wondered what he wanted from her.

Undoubtedly, he wanted more than just information about that little whore.

Monet was glad Trina was not around any longer. The other girls were upset about her death, but Monet never shed a tear. The bitch was getting all the attention, and only leaving the scraps for me. "So, you're not a cop anymore? What happened?"

John had no desire for small talk, so he remained quiet.

"Okay, I get it. You're paying to ask the questions, right?" Monet understood a man's to be in control, which was fine with her as long as she was paid.

"That's correct." John pulled into the same parking lot where he and Pleasure spoke earlier. He decided to park in the back, away from the lights so no one would see them. "Here; this will do fine."

Monet looked around, unsure of where they were. Her heart raced and fear-filled her as she reached for the door handle.

"Where are you going, I thought we had a deal?" John reached over and took her by the arm, stopping her from getting out of the car.

"I'm not going to hurt you; I only want information. I promise when you tell me what I came for, I'll take you back, and you'll be two hundred dollars richer. Now, get back in here, and let's have a little talk," John smiled, but his eyes showed his impatience.

"Okay, I'll stay, just please let go of my arm." Monet released the door handle and then leaned back in the seat. She then turned toward John, trying to appear calm and in control.

"So, I guess you want to know about that Councilman that killed Trina. I saw his picture in the paper. You know, I always knew politics was full of crooked people that hated us, but I never thought they would take to killing us. Hell, what makes them so much better than we are anyway? We both get paid to screw people, so what makes them so damn special?" Monet laughed at the thought of all those high and mighty people being no better than she was.

"I never thought of it that way, but I guess you're right." John could not help but laugh with Monet. Hell, he never liked most of the city politicians himself.

Hell, the entire time we were bustin' our asses to solve those murders, all them assholes from the mayor's office on down kept pushing us to make an arrest. The only thing, they cared about, was the mayor looking bad during an election year, John chuckled silently to himself.

"Let's see what I can remember. He pulled up to the curb in that fancy silver car of his. I saw him first and walked over to see if he wanted a date. He was a real asshole and didn't want anything to do with me," the sting of his rejection was still fresh in her mind.

"Did you see what he looked like?" John hoped to keep her talking so he would not have to respond to her questioning eyes.

"No, it was dark, and he stayed in the shadows. Besides, he kept the inside of his car dark. You know, like the dash lights were all the way down or something. Anyhow, he told me he wanted to talk with Trina, so I told her to get her ass over to his car. All, I know, is that car he was driving cost a lot of money, and I mean a lot!"

"Did you notice anything special about his voice? How about an accent; did he have an accent?"

John knew this was probably going nowhere, but he pressed onward.

"Come on, Monet; is there anything special about him you can remember?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, he did say something strange. He told me he needed a goddess to fulfill his needs. Now, what's that supposed to mean? Trina was not some damn goddess! She was just a whore like the rest of us. Goddamn, son-of-a-bitch wouldn't know a real woman if he saw one; goin' for a little bitch like her..." Monet's voice trailed off as she realized her complaints went ignored.

John perked up. Goddess, why did he use that term? Maybe it has something to do with the name he uses.

John smiled since Erebus was not a name he would quickly forget. "Monet, I want to thank you for your help. I think you may have come up with what I needed."

"I did, well...uh...if you say so." Monet had no idea what she had mentioned to help, but she was glad.

"So, does this mean I get my money?" She held out her hand and smiled.

John reached into his pocket, pulled out the two one-hundred-dollar bills, and put them in her hand. "Thank you, Monet, I'll take you back now."

John pulled out of the parking lot and drove back to the corner where he found her earlier.

"Hey, hold on. Aren't you sure you wouldn't like a little fun first?" Monet was in no hurry to go back out into the cold. Besides, she found the idea of being with a good looking, and a clean-smelling man quite appealing.

Monet was tired of the foul stench of alcohol and sweat as a man lay on top of her. "Couldn't we just consider it part of the original deal?"

"No, thank you. I don't have time for fun, but I do want to thank you for your time. Come on, let's get you back." John kept his eyes forward, so she did not see the look of disgust in them.

Neither one spoke the rest of the way back. As he pulled up to the curb, she, turned and was about to ask again, but changed her mind.

"Thank you, Monet. Take care of yourself, okay?" John wanted this to end as soon as possible.

Monet opened the door, slid out, but leaned back inside before closing the door. "Are you sure?"

However, before she could say any more, John held up his hand. "Like I said, I need to get going. Thank you again, Monet."

Of course, this made her angry, as she was tired of men turning her down. "Fine, I guess we both got what we needed!" She slammed the car door then stepped up on the curb.

John pulled back onto the street, and as he drove away, he heard Monet yell, "Your loss, Asshole!"

John hated to be rude, but she gave him no choice. As he drove away, he looked through the rearview mirror in time to see her flip him off, and stomp back to the doorway where some others gathered, trying to stay warm.

"Man, she's a piece of work," John laughed to himself. "Oh well, I got what I needed, but now I need to find a computer and do some research."

John knew he was not ready to face Kathy yet, so he tried to think of a place where he could use a computer. The library closed two hours ago, and going to the Department was out of the question.

"I wonder if that Internet Cafe a few blocks from here is still in business?"
Chapter 31

The Death of Love

The drive home was a blur for Kathy, as she could not even recall the drive home when she pulled into the driveway. To watch John leave with a prostitute was the most painful thing she had ever endured. It was true; the pictures, all of it was real.

"He's running around with those...," she could not even bring herself to say the word. It hurt bad enough to think of John cheating on her but to cheat on her with them. She shuddered at the thought of him being with one of them and then coming home to her. The thought made her stomach turn.

He could have caught a sexually transmitted disease, and then brought it home to me!

Kathy had heard of cases when a man would contract an STD and then give it to his unsuspecting wife. Maybe she should go to the doctor, but just thinking about it made her laugh to herself.

"Yeah, right; how would I explain that to Dr. Cho? She'd believe I had lost my mind," Kathy chuckled at the image of her doctor's face when she explained why she wanted to be tested.

"I need to get inside the house before the neighbors see me talking to myself and call to have me taken in."

She turned off the ignition and grabbed her purse. "I'm never going to solve this by sitting out here feeling sorry for myself."

***

Relieved, the Internet Café was open; John pulled into a parking space and turned off his car. Good, I sure hope I can find what I'm looking for online.

"Good evening, sir. May I help you?" The employee standing behind the counter looked barely old enough to have a job, let alone be working this late at night.

"I need to use one of your computers to get online."

"It's $6 for the first hour, then..."

John cut the young man off before he could continue. "Fine, I won't need it longer than an hour. I'll be at the one along the back wall. Please be sure I'm left alone."

The young man shook his head and returned to his paperwork.

John sat at the console, pulled up the search engine, and typed in the word Erebus. He was surprised to see Greek Mythology come up.

The first entry stated: Erebus - the primeval god of darkness. An elemental, being; a substance of darkness, rather than a man-shaped god. His mists encircled the underworld and filled the hollows of the earth. Often used metaphorically for Hades, he is the son of Chaos, a primordial god.

John read the entire post, and then read it a second time. "What is all that crap supposed to mean?

Does he think he's a god? Well, I guess that explains the goddess statement. He did refer to Trina as a goddess. The questions swirled with the force of a tornado in John's mind.

"She was beautiful with her emerald green eyes; Erebus said about Trina. Wait a minute; it can't be that simple, can it?" John stated in a near whisper.

Once John found the website for the local newspaper, he looked for pictures of the murdered prostitutes.

"I'll be damned; they all had green eyes! Why didn't we notice that before?" he whispered, trying to contain his excitement.

Tired of all the dead ends with hanging questions, John decided to look at one more thing.

"I wonder..." He went to the day they found the lawyer's wife and pulled up her picture. "Shit, she had green eyes also!"

What does this mean? I have to get out of here and find that asshole. Erebus, God of Darkness, more like God of Scum! The words screamed in John's mind.

Once he finished, John cleared the browsing history and closed everything down. He then returned to the counter, where the young man was still reading a book.

"Are you done already, sir? I hope you found what you needed."

John took six dollars from his wallet and threw it on the counter. "Not at all; I only managed to make more questions for myself."

The young man picked up the money and put it in the register. "Would you like your receipt?" He tore the receipt off the register and handed it across the counter to John.

"No, thanks; just throw it away." John rushed to the door and quickly went outside to his car.

"Why green eyes? What a strange turn of events," he said to himself as he drove away.

The young man watched John drive away through the large plate glass window. "That man needs to learn how to relax, or he's gonna have a heart attack."

***

The look of agony on Kathy's face thrilled him when she returned home. It had surprised him she would go back to where the creatures were. Perfection. For John to arrive, then leave with the creature, while Kathy watched, firmly secured the next move in The Game. It's all playing out better expected.

***

Kathy closed the front door, checked the door lock, and reset the alarm. After she had set her purse and keys on the table in the foyer, Kathy walked into the kitchen to make herself some tea.

"Oh, John, what were you thinking?" No sooner had the words left her mouth than she knew the answer. John seemed trapped in a new reality and unwilling to escape.

Drinking, hiring prostitutes, and creating a file accusing her and Tom of collusion, these are all signs of a troubled mind. John had never shown signs of this other lifestyle, so why now?

Kathy reached for the teapot then walked to the sink to add water when the telephone rang.

"Please be John!" She dropped the teapot in the sink and ran for the telephone. "Hello, John?"

"No, it's Tom. I gather you still haven't heard from him?" Tom was also disappointed John had not come home yet.

"Oh, Tom, I haven't spoken to him, but he..." She was not sure how to tell Tom what she had seen earlier.

"Kathy, what's wrong? Did you see John today?" He could tell by her voice the answer was not going to be good.

"Kathy, you need to tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what's going on!"

She braced herself and swallowed before speaking. "Tom, I went back to where the prostitutes work this evening. I want to see if he was there. I don't know why I did, but I..."

Tom was shocked she would go back after his warning. "Kathy, I thought I told you to stay away from there; it's not safe."

It had terrified Tom at the thought of her being there alone after dark.

"I know, I know, but I had to find him. Oh, Tom, I saw him! He pulled up to one of those women, and she got in with him. I just sat there and watched them drive away!"

Kathy felt nauseous, as the image of John with that woman formed in her mind. "Why is this happening? I don't understand!"

"Kathy, I know this all feels like the end of the world, but there has to be a logical explanation for it. John loves you; I can't believe he would do something like that. He was probably questioning them about the Everett case. When I told him to take some time off to recoup, I never thought John would continue with the investigation. I'm sorry; I should have found something else to keep him busy until he lost interest. This is entirely my fault."

Tom wished he knew how to help, but he was at a loss himself. After examining the pictures and folder several more times, Tom was still no closer to a solution. In all of his years in law enforcement, he had never seen anyone caught up in such a mess. "I'm sure he'll come home soon."

Kathy was not so sure he would. Surely, John would never accuse her of a cover-up, and then be running around with prostitutes if it were not true. She did not want to worry Tom more than he already was, so she tried to act brave.

"You're right; it has to be a misunderstanding. Don't worry about me; I'll be okay. I was about to make myself a cup of tea when you called. I promise to stay home tonight and relax. Thank you for your friendship, it means the world to me."

"Well, okay, as long as you promise to stay home. The last thing we need is for something to happen to you. I know John would never forgive himself, and neither would I. Now, go make your tea, and we'll talk in the morning. Hopefully, you'll have some good news for me." Tom tried to lighten the mood, but he knew she was not going for it.

"Yes, that would be wonderful. I promise; I'll try to relax. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight, Tom."

They both hung up the telephone.

Kathy walked back to the sink, where she realized the water was still running. She filled the teapot with water and put it on the stove to heat.

"I need to relax." Kathy knew she had a few minutes, so she decided to go upstairs and change into her nightgown.

***

He watched Kathy on the telephone then as she went upstairs to change her clothes. He marveled at how she still had faith in John after everything he had done. In the past, others were quick to turn on their loved ones, but not her. She was strong, and he admired that about her. He relished these moments in watching the unraveling of a relationship was a pleasure.

"You still may have faith in him, my dear, but he has lost his faith in you. It's a shame you must die. You're one I would truly be interested in playing with again."
Chapter 32

Goodbye, My Dear

John was shocked by this discovery. Each of them had green eyes, but how is that important?

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Erebus had painstakingly planned each of his moves, so how was this important?

Honestly, the only thing John wanted was to look into the bastard eyes and... "Yeah, I need to stop lying to myself. I don't want to arrest Erebus; I want to see the fear in his eyes when he realizes he's about to die."

"You don't deserve justice; you deserve death! It's only a matter of time, you bastard!"

***

John was glad to be back at the motel. "Man, this day has been something else." He set his keys and cell phone on the dresser and saw a menu from a local pizza restaurant lying there. He could not remember the last time he had eaten, so he decided to order some dinner. John dialed the number and ordered a pizza with a bottle of soda.

"That will be $15.62. It will be there in a half-hour," the young woman said in a cheerful voice.

"That's perfect, thank you."

John hung up the telephone. "I'll take a hot shower, eat, and get some sleep; now that's the ticket!

John had just finished undressing when the telephone rang. "Hello."

"Good evening, John. Are you done for the day?" the voice teased.

"As a matter of fact, I am. I must admit I'm glad you called. I'm closing in on you and thought you might like to know," John snickered.

"You are, oh, how wonderful! I was wondering when you would begin to figure things out. I'm glad you decided to join the game. I do look forward to our time together."

"So am I! I caught on to your little clue...the green eyes?" John hoped this would get his attention.

"Oh, so you figured that one out did you; excellent! Yes, I have always had a fondness for them. They have always held a fascination for me."

"Yeah, and I found out what your name means as well. What a load of crap! You're as much of a God, as I am. You're nothing but a murdering asshole, and I'm going to enjoy destroying you!" John felt the strength surge back into his body.

The soft laugh hit John between the eyes. "Oh, John, you still do not understand who I am, do you? No matter, we still have time. You have all the clues you need; now it's up to you."

"Don't worry, Erebus; I won't let you down. We'll play this game out to the end."

"Good, John, I look forward to it. Oh yes, I nearly forgot; Kathy is quite upset with you. I felt sorry for her as she watched you drive off with your new friend earlier. The look on her face was full of agony, and I must say I almost felt sorry for her." Erebus paused, allowing John a moment to comprehend his words.

"You need to know Kathy is following your every move. She knows what you've done and where you've been since her return."

Erebus pressed on, not allowing John to speak. "How does it feel to know your wife is always cleaning up after you?"

He always enjoyed playing out these moves. It made him feel like a cat playing with a helpless mouse. "She saw you drive off with the creature tonight and did nothing. The poor thing only sat there and watched you drive away. The once you left, she returned home. I wonder why she rushed home, was it to plot her next move with your Captain. They must be tired of covering for you," he waited for the reality of the situation to sink in.

Each word slammed into John with such a searing flash it nearly consumed him. "She's following me?"

It was bad enough he had to deal with this asshole, but now Kathy. John had hoped this thing with Kathy would keep until he caught Erebus, but now, "You leave her out of this. She's my problem, not yours!"

"Very true, John, I would never want to come between a man and his wife. I only thought you had the right to know. We don't want her interfering in our time together, now would we?"

It was all playing out just as Erebus had planned. Pride was the best weapon to use on someone like John. The response was always the same; attack and never question.

"Don't worry, I won't let anyone or anything come between us and our game, Erebus." John's head was pounding as he spoke the words.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that. I'll let you return to what you were doing. Goodnight, John, until we speak again."

John stood transfixed with the dial tone in his ear. "She's still doing it! Why can't she just leave me alone?" John knew there was only one thing for him to do; he had to confront her tonight.

***

Kathy was glad to be home. The tea was warm and relaxing. It was what she needed after a long and horrible day.

"John, why is this happening? What happened to change you?" Kathy whispered as she took another sip of tea.

She knew Tom was right about one thing; she needed some rest. Kathy closed her eyes as the image of John and the prostitutes burned into her mind. "I can't believe he's with them."

He had always said how he felt sorry for them, and how the Johns and pimps exploited them, but now he was doing the same thing.

Kathy was about to take another sip of her tea when she heard a car pull up in the driveway. "John!"

***

John had gone over several times in his mind what he planned to say to Kathy. However, the more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

That bitch is through manipulating me! She may not like it, but I'm going to be in control of my life from now on!

When he pulled up to the house, he noticed the light was still on in the living room. "Good, she's still up. It's time for us to settle this once and for all."

***

The man watched her as she drank her tea. He then saw her excitement when she heard the car pull into the driveway.

"Oh, this is all coming together perfectly. Soon, John, it will all be over."

***

Kathy rushed to the front door, flung it open wide, and found John standing there.

"Thank God, you're home; I've been so worried, John!" She tried to hug him, but he shoved her away.

"Worried? Now isn't that rich!"

He pushed passed her and into the house. John had no desire to be near her at this time, but she made it impossible with all of her meddling.

"I told you to leave me alone. I said I needed some time to myself, but you just couldn't stay out of things, could you?"

Kathy followed him to the living room, with tears streaming down her face. The rage inside of John was so powerful, what could she say to ease his anger?

"John, I don't know why you're so angry with me. I've not done anything wrong. I only want to help you. Please, let me help you!"

The pain poured out of her as she wiped the tears from her red, swollen eyes.

"Why would you be with those, those..." the words caught in her throat.

"You're throwing everything away!" The tears continued to stream down her cheeks.

"Throwing everything away? Is that all you care about? Don't worry; I won't do anything to jeopardize your precious career. All these years, it's been about you, hasn't it? Well, I'm through being your puppet. I'm taking my life back, so get used to it, sweetheart!"

John's body shook with rage, as it seemed to completely engulf him. It took all the strength of his being not to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze the life out of her. "Stay out of my way, and stay out of my life!"

"John, how can you say such cruel things?"

Kathy found herself trapped in a nightmare, of which there was no escape.

He wants me out of his life. He thinks that he's my puppet. I don't understand, this can't be happening!

The words slammed into her mind with such force Kathy thought she would die.

"Please, I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you," she pleaded.

"Love me? I don't want to hear your lies anymore. You have gone over a line that's unforgivable. I'm through; it's my turn now!"

"John, please, don't say that...I need you...I love you!" She reached for him, only to be pushed away again.

"I told you to stay away from me; you bitch!"

John shoved her with such force she stumbled over the ottoman and crashed through the glass top coffee table. In his rage, he did not see the blood or her cries of pain.

"Stay off of me, you bitch! Why can't you get it through your thick head that we're finished? I absolutely refuse to be led around like an obedient dog and told what to do. I'll decide my destiny, not you, not anyone else!"

Kathy stood with blood flowing down her arms and onto the carpet.

"John, please, I don't understand any of this. I've always been honest with you, please." She reached for him again.

"I said keep the hell away from me, you lying bitch! I'm through being controlled by you!"

He grabbed both of her arms, crushing them in his firm grasp as the anger inside of him raged to a dangerous point.

John was full of hate...hate for her. Kathy begged him to stop, but he no longer saw her face. Through his rage, John only saw a faceless skull. He no longer heard her cries, but the voice he hated above all others.

"Go ahead and do it; you know you want to. Take your life back, you know what you need to do," the voice taunted.

"It is my life! It's mine to live, not yours!" John cried out in pain.

The room no longer existed for John. He was somewhere else, somewhere dark and full of death. Kathy's cries were like torture to him, taunting him. He did not see her, only the faceless skull laughing at him.

"Shut up...shut up!" John could no longer take it; this had to end.

"I'll send you back to hell, you bastard! I told you I'd win. You picked the wrong tracker for your damn game this time!"

"Please, John, you're hurting me!"

Kathy felt the blood on her arms and knew she needed to get it stopped soon. She felt herself become lightheaded, and the room began to spin. "John, please..."

He could not hear her pleas. He only heard the taunts and lies leading him over the edge to insanity. John looked into the empty eyes of the skull, rage overcoming all reason.

"I'll kill you. I'll kill you and send you back to hell! You will not win! You may have everyone else fooled, but I know the truth! No one else will die for your sick game. I will not let it happen,"

John released her arms to grasp her throat. "I'll take your life the way you did theirs. How many have died for your pleasure? How many times have you played your precious game? Well, this is the last time, and I have won! You may think you're something special, a God, but I'm the one in control now! I have beaten you. You are nothing...you have lost!"

John's hands tightened around the throat of the demon, crushing the life out of it. He relished the feeling this brought, and he never wanted it to end. He laughed how it struggled under his grasp. "You're not so powerful now, are you, Erebus? It's time to go back to hell, you son-of-a-bitch, and I hope you burn there for all eternity!"

Kathy felt the room closing in around her. "My God, he's killing me!" She cried out, trying to reach for his face.

She wondered if a touch would bring him back, but she did not have the strength.

Blood flowed freely as her heart raced so hard, she thought it would burst. The room spun around her, as she felt herself spiraling down into a place of no escape.

Time transformed into light. So, this is what it is like to die?

It surprised her there was no fear, only a feeling of peace and love. She knew her life was ending by the hand of the one she had trusted most, but there was no anger, only forgiveness.

"John, I love you with all my heart, and I forgive you." Her words were too soft to reach through his rage.

She felt the room swirl around her, pulling her into an unknown place. Then with a soft cry, she surrendered to the gentle embrace of death.
Chapter 33

To Die a Thousand Deaths

Joy consumed John. He had won. It was over, and the sanctimonious asshole was back in hell where he belonged.

"You thought you could beat me? Well, so much for you, Erebus, God of Darkness! You thought you were superior to me, well, who has the last laugh now? Burn in your kingdom, burn and remember that I won The Game!"

John was thrilled to know he would never hear the voice again. It was over, and he had won. However, from across the room, he heard something he had never expected.

"What's this?" John turned to see the screen on the television light up and clear to show its nightmare.

There before his eyes was Kathy, pleading for him to listen, but he pushed her away. He watched in horror as she fell on the coffee table, shattering the glass top. Then he saw the blood flowing down her arms. She begged him for help, but he tightened his hands around her throat and crushed the life out of her.

"No, that's not true; it never happened. She's not even here. I haven't seen her since she came back from Florida. It has to be a trick; even from hell, he is trying to control me."

He stepped forward to turn off the nightmare when he stumbled on something. "What the hell?"

The sight below him turned John's blood to ice. There is a pool of blood lay Kathy.

"No, it can't be true. I didn't...I couldn't have..." he moaned.

John reached down to touch her, not entirely convinced she was there.

"What have I done? I don't remember, oh, Lord, this can't be true. What have I done?" The agony ripped out his heart.

The sound of her voice flowed from the television. "John, I love you with all my heart. I forgive you."

"What have I done?" Wales of pain filled the room. He searched his mind, trying to remember.

"This never happened; she wasn't here, was she?" He touched her face and prayed she would open her eyes, but he knew she was dead.

Kathy was dead, and it was his fault. He had done the unforgivable, and nothing he could do would ever make up for it.

"I'm sorry!" John reached down and picked Kathy up in his arms, holding her lifeless body close to his. Blood was everywhere, and the front of her gown was ripped open, exposing her breasts.

"I won't have you found looking this way, sweetheart. You deserve better than to be seen like this," he whispered in her ear.

John carried her upstairs to their bedroom and laid her on their bed. He then went to the bathroom and got a wet cloth to clean off the blood.

"Oh God, there's so much blood. Why didn't I see you, why didn't I stop?" He cried while gently wiping the blood from her arms. Once he finished, he laid them beside her and covered her with the sheet to protect her modesty.

"I'm sorry. I know I was angry with you, but I never wanted this."

John bent down and kissed her on the lips. "Goodbye, my love, I hope you find happiness in heaven."

John sat in silence, looking at her beautiful face. He then stood and walked downstairs to his office.

***

It had been a pure delight to behold. Erebus enjoyed the look on John's face as he watched the life drain out of her. Every move was played out as expected in The Game; each piece performed to perfection.

"Now, one last move," he smiled with anticipation. "All right, John, the final move is yours."

***

There was a chill in the room, not the chill of winter, but that of death. John knew what he must do.

"She's dead; she's dead because of me and my choices."

He thought back to his dream. "It's true; they're all dead because of my choices."

John reached into his desk drawer and pulled out his revolver, placing it on the desk in front of him. There was only one more thing to do.

John knew he did not want to live with Kathy dead by his hands. He reached for the gun when the telephone began to ring. John waited as it rang several times, then stopped. Then reaching for the gun again, the phone rang again. This time, he answered it, "Hello!"

"Good evening, John. I wanted to call and thank you. I have enjoyed our time together, and I hate to see it come to an end."

John felt his body turn to ice. "You bastard, what have you made me do?"

"Made you do? You made all the choices during The Game for yourself. You chose to believe your beloved Kathy betrayed you. With everything you experience during our game, you still believed she was capable of betrayal. John, you amaze me. I told you from the beginning you had all the clues, you just merely chose not to see them."

"What clues? The only clues had to do with the others, not Kathy. You never said she was part of our game!"

A feeling of dread washed over John. Did I overlook something? Did I focus on the wrong thing?

"Of course, she was part of the game, John; she had been from the beginning. Kathy was one of the chosen pieces, just like the others, and for a prime reason. Kathy was your strength, John. She held you together in the past. She even saved you from yourself, but now because of your choices, you have nothing."

"But why use her, why the others? You told me I was the important one in The Game. Why destroy their lives?" John shook his head, trying to make sense of it all.

"You were John. They were simply symbols of your life. I told you from the beginning how I sought you out because you were special. I found you to be a fascinating subject the day you were on the news, bragging about your arrest of the gang members. I knew from that moment; you would be my next Tracker."

Erebus paused before continuing. "Let's see, how did you put it? Ah yes, I remember now. You said all criminals were stupid, and how it was only a matter of time before they made a mistake. You then went on to say the evidence never lied, and it would always prove the guilt of the criminal. Such confidence and arrogance, I knew you would make an excellent Tracker in The Game. See John; each piece was chosen as representations of different parts of your life, John."

The voiced chuckled then continued. "First, there was the politician. He put personal gain and glory above anything or anyone. Just as you did, as a young officer. You wanted to score the big bust, which was the burning desire consuming your soul. You were alike, John. Fame and power were more important than anything. Next were the business partners. One was weak and always felt inferior with the need to prove his worth to the world, even at the expense of his best friend. It's a shame when people who have been friends for years, let blind ambition come between them. Just like you did with Ray. You let your hunger for fame and glory cause the death of your friend and partner. Poor Ray, he ended up being the price paid for your detective's badge. Was the trade-off worth it? You were the weak one, and that's why you needed to prove your importance. You needed to show the world you could be the cop your uncle was before that street thug shot him, and for that, you sacrificed the life of your friend."

"But what about the prostitutes, how did they fit in?" John was confused as to their part in all of this.

"They were not important. They were simply needed to set the scene."

He paused again before he continued, "I bet you're wondering about the lawyer's wife, aren't you? She was a symbol of your marriage. Those two had a beautiful and happy marriage just as you did, John. It was a joy proving to everyone there are no more fairy tales, as well as how easy it is to live a lie. I destroyed the love of his life, just as you did yours."

Erebus took a breath to savor the moment. "You see it all ties together. It was always there for you to find. You only chose not to look. You allowed your arrogance to keep you from seeing the truth."

He waited a moment for a response, and when none came, he continued. "Well, I want to thank you again for a stimulating time; it has truly been a pleasure. I'm sure you know what's next, don't you? It's up to you to make the final move; let's see if you have it in you to fulfill your part in The Game. You truly were an enjoyable opponent, John, but alas, our game has come to an end, and it's time for me to go make my introductions. Goodbye, John." The telephone went dead for the last time.

John sat in silence, going over everything said.

"He's right; it was all my fault. I let each of them down. I always believed I had the answers, but now I have nothing. I have lost everything, my career, my marriage, even my soul. There is only one thing left to do."

John reached for his gun. "Goodbye, Erebus, game over...you win!"

~~~

Preview of

A New Game

Book 2

Prologue

"It's my fault they're all dead! My choices caused their deaths, and I don't deserve to escape from my punishment! He thought me a coward, and I would take the easy way out, but I couldn't bring myself to dishonor her memory. She died because I was too weak to stop him, and I know he's out there right now, planning his next game. Erebus will destroy more lives, and no one can stop him! He's a demon from hell, sent to destroy as many lives as possible. I thought I had killed him, but how does one kill a demon? You have to let me go! I'm the only one who knows he exists! Let me out of here...Let me out...LET ME OUT!"

***

"Doctor, do you think he'll ever return from the hell he's trapped in?" Tom hated to see John in this condition.

"There's no way of knowing, Captain Riggs. It's up to John if he recovers from this."

"I wish I knew who this Erebus was. John speaks of him as though he's a real person, but how is that even possible?" Tom said as he watched John through the two-way mirror.

A Message from the Author

I would like to thank you for reading my debut novel Next Move, You're Dead - Book 1 of the Next Move, You're Dead Trilogy.
