Sunday Night – August 19th

All four sat around the dining room table and listened as Leon explained why he came back.

“After momma died, the three of you took me in, no questions asked. And honestly, I was scared. You all being white, me black, and you,” he pointed at Baker, “being a cop.”

He tilted his head down and took a deep breath.

“Then, things started going good. I mean, like Stevie, he, well; I kinda looked at him like an older brother. I could talk to him, and we did stuff together. And when you guys went places together, you took me with you. It felt like a second chance at having a real family again. Then comes momma’s sister.”

“Leon, did she mistreat you in any way?” asked Ed.

“No, sir. Well, she didn’t beat me if that’s what you mean. But she lives darn close in the middle of nowhere. No way for me to make any real friends and the kids I did meet on the school bus and in school, lived too far from me. Nearest one was Darnell Foster and he was about three miles away. Aunt Lynetta got no cable, no TV. She says all that stuff is sinful.

"She had plenty of money though to spend on her drinkin' and partyin' with her friends.

Heck, they still use a separate building to go to the bathroom they call an outhouse! Never seen one before and hope I never see one again! That’s where you poop and pee, and it smells! One time I thought I was gonna fall in!

“I don’t like it there. I don’t like living in the country. I want to live here, in Montie. I want to live here with all of you! Please?

“Besides,” and this was when Leon started to cry, “my momma is buried here.”

Baker blinked her eyes, took another sip of her coffee, and realized it had gone cold. Going back to the coffee machine for a second cup, she remembered the conversation she had with Judge Edmund Carson the very next day.

Monday – August 20th

Judge Carson’s Chambers – 9:30 a.m.

“Lieutenant, the boy has to be returned to Mrs. Mason. She is his legal guardian and currently his sole caretaker.”

“Actually, Judge Carson, she isn’t. What I found out this morning before I came here is that what remained of Leon’s mother’s money from the insurance policy, Mrs. Mason pretty much pocketed with the pretext of using it for Leon. And from what I understand, little to none of that has happened.”

“This is an issue for the State of North Carolina to handle. This is out of our authority.”

“Let me ask you, Judge Carson, if I can get Mrs. Mason to allow me to adopt Leon up here, would that suffice all parties concerned?”

“I would say it would. But is that what you want to do?”

“I have, ever since Leon’s mother died.”

“Then you want to do this out of a sense of responsibility?”

“Not at all. I want to do this because he needs guidance, love, and a feeling of belonging.

He doesn’t have that with Mrs. Mason.”

“Then here is what you must do for the time being. First: place him under foster care. Second: have foster care services notify the nearest County Courthouse wherever this Tomahawk place is located and have them notified of your intent. At which point, they will notify the boy’s aunt, this Mrs. Mason, of your intention to adopt.

“Be on notice Lieutenant, if she says no to your intent to adopt, you will have no legal recourse or responsibility for the boy. Are we clear on this?”

“We are, Judge.”

“If in fact she agrees, only then can you apply with the proper paperwork for adoption. You may have to wait up to ninety days. If, after that time, everything appears to be in order, then the boy, Leon Hargrave, will legally be your son, with either your last name, or your actual married last name.”

And that’s where things stood for a week.

Two days later, Stevie came up to her and said he wanted to play basketball, as well as coach.

Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible

New Living Testament, copyright ©1996, 2004

Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishing, Inc.

Quotations used by permission from Bartleby.com ©1993-2004

__________

Prelude

Lee Austin and Freddy come head-to-head with one another. Convicts break out of prison. A rapist/killer is on the loose. The basketball team goes to the state finals, but will they capture the championship?

Take all this and new characters coming into the mix, and new love interests are sparked. Other love triangles deepen; and Leon has returned. What will become of him, and how will this affect Baker. Freddy sets the time for a final face-off with Baker. What will all of this do to the city of Montie?

__________

Excerpt

Somewhere in Columbus, Ohio -11:03 a.m.

A tall man jumped out from behind a clump of bushes from the side of Mackinaw Road. At one time it was a hundred-mile stretch of blacktop that used to be a trail that would lead you from Columbus to Cincinnati back in the day. Almost seventy years ago, three large sinkholes ended that idea. Now, if it’s used for anything, it’s either to bring a date there to make out with or dump your trash.

In this case, Johnny “Baby Boy” Jackson, just finished making out with a chubby sixteen-year-old girl who begged and pleaded with him not to hurt her.

Johnny had snatched her from a bus station in Columbus, punched her in the mouth to shut her up until he got to Mackinaw Road.

He kept his promise not to hurt her after he raped her brutally. To Johnny, sex isn’t brutal, sex is all about feeling good, and when he gets rough; to him, that feels wonderful.

But he kept his promise not to hurt her anymore. He broke her neck.

In a notebook in his car, he wrote her name down: Natalie. 16. Number 41. The first one? Ellaine Mae Jackson. 62.

His mother.

__________

If you try to hang onto your life, you will lose it.

But if you give up your life for my sake,

you will save it. Matthew - 16: 25

Painful for man is rebellious independence when it has

become inevitable, only in loving companionship with

his fellows does he feel safe; only in reverently bowing

down before the Higher does he feel himself exalted – Thomas Carlyl

The way I see it, no sense in hanging onto a life that’s going

to end one way or the other. After all, like taxes, death is

inevitable, and if you get on my radar—trust me, it will

happen, and it won’t be pretty – Freddy

__________

Lee followed George Lassiter from the Hightower Inn, one of the better hotel’s in Ankara. There were four high-priced hotels. Lee had called all four, asking if either a Lassiter, Jerry Miller or Tracey McPhearson had registered.

When he found out George Lassiter had been staying at the Hightower for two days, Lee suspected he might not have much time to hunt him down before he would be out of Turkey and onto someplace else.

It wasn’t until Saturday night when he spotted his target making his way across cobblestone streets, passing under brightly lit windows holding glassware (hand blown), clothing shops, or a local food or fruit store with people inside, seemingly all talking at once, each bartering for a good deal.

Lee followed at what he considered to be at a safe distance and would do so until he knew the time was right to make his move. He didn’t want any of the locals to get in the way or killed.

Lee continued to watch as George slipped through a doorway and went up a single flight of steps.

Lee waited twenty minutes. He then watched as George retraced the steps he had climbed until he reached the open doorway. Quickly, George looked left, then to his right.

Lee pulled out his Styler 9mm, cocked the hammer ever so lightly and fired point blank at George’s head. But it was the surrounding silence and the slight tick of the hammer pulled back that gave George a half-second edge, for he literally dodged a bullet.

Lee was angry at himself. He should have known better.

He saw George duck down into the shadows around the doorway, and then he heard what sounded like police sirens. He ditched the Styler in a place where he would later come back for it. He still had his .38 on him. He could carry in Turkey, and it hadn’t been fired.

“Freddy,” he whispered, “you got a free pass this time.”

What Lee didn’t know was that Freddy had circled around Lee and took up a position neither Lee nor the Kurdish police knew of.

As Lee was questioned by the police for his name, passport, and gun permit, and as to why he is in the area at such a late time of night and had he heard any gunfire. His responses well-rehearsed was, “I’m a tourist from the United States and just exploring. I thought I heard a loud bang, but I didn’t hear any shooting.”

Freddy committed to memory all he heard and saw.

When he arrived in Rome. He would look into this Lee Austin.

Monday – October 29th

The Squad Room – 8:31 a.m.

“Just a couple more things.

“For those of you who haven’t checked you inbox, you will find a facsimile on one Johnny “Baby Boy” Jackson, who isn’t anyone’s baby boy any longer. He is forty-six, six-three, two-twenty, and sports tat’s up and down both arms.

“He was released from the Nebraska State prison last January and is considered extremely dangerous. His rap sheet tallies eight rape convictions since age sixteen; two of which were his mother and sister. And of those two, he murdered his mother, but the court couldn’t convict because somehow the evidence had been tampered with somehow.

“Currently, he is wanted in Michigan, Illinois, and Ohio with seventeen charges of rape, and over three dozen homicides. He hasn’t made his way into our state to my knowledge, but we have been put on alert for this individual. If you spot him, call for backup, then arrest him.”

“What if he doesn’t want to come along peaceable-like?” asked Clinton.

“Based on any aggressive action on his part, you do what you have to do, but first do your best to bring him in unharmed, wounded—or if need be, dead.

“Now onto some good news. Next Monday, Johnathan Prescott will be returning to active duty.”

A few cheers were raised and a smattering of applause, along with a few well-meaning comments, such as, “Probably all fat and lazy from all that good food Andrews been feeding him.”

Then Clinton opened his mouth.

“From all the sex he’s been getting, he’ll be as useless as tits on a bull.”

“All right guys, that’s enough, and Clinton? Keep your opinions to yourself.”

Baker looked around the room and asked, “Anyone have any questions? If not, then get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”

As everyone filed out of the room, Rick Lowery came up to Baker.

“I was wondering if Montie’s basketball team is making another run for another Divisional Championship. Do you think they can do it again?”

“Hard to tell, but I hope so, Lowery. It would be great to see them go all the way and win the state championship this time.”

“I think they have a good shot at it. Your son, Stevie, and Ron Snyder, are the top two shooter’s.”

“There are three regular season games left,” added Dianne. “Two home games against Stanhouse and Williamsburg and the last game they play at Brimford.”

“Yeah, but Brimford and Stanhouse are both tied for second and a game behind The Pythoners,” said Terrance. “They need to beat both of them to lock in the county championship. Either way it’s been a hell of a season.”

“Either way, I think we’ve analyzed this enough. You and Lowery need to get out there and do what you do best. Just keep your eyes open if you do spot Jackson. If he’s carrying, it would be a hunting knife and a .32 Remington. It’s all in the report in your inbox.”

As Terrance and Lowery left, Baker walked into the break room, stuck a quarter and a dime in the coffee machine, pressed extra cream, extra sugar, waited three minutes, then grabbed her cup and made her way back to her office. Just as she made it to the door, she saw Satchell about to leave his office.

“Busy day already, Satchell?”

“You can say that. I have a meeting with the Mayor at 9:30. At 10:30, I have a meeting with the Fire Marshall, Sam Jessup. From there, I head over to Montie High and give the annual speech, aka lecture on safety. At noon, lunch with Samantha. After that, it’s whatever comes up next.”

“You and Samantha are becoming quite the item lately.”

Satchell smiled a sheepish grin.

“I know. The whole thing was more of a surprise for me than anyone else. I wasn’t looking, but looking for, found me. I can thank my brother-in-law and his wife for that. They hatched the whole thing up, though Don denies he had a hand in it, and now, well; I’m grateful to them.”

“You look happy, Satchell. I know it was hard on you when June died, but now, you look. Oh, I don’t know … reborn maybe? Either way, I am happy for you both.”

“Thanks, Baker. You’ll have to excuse me, but I need to get a move on. Talk with you later. Give my best to Ed and Stevie.”

As Satchell took the steps down to get to the parking garage to his car, Baker went inside her office and sat at down at her desk and started checking her email.

There wasn’t anything of major importance but as she sipped her coffee, she let her mind drift back. Back to the night little Leon Hargrove showed up at her front door all the way from Tomahawk, North Carolina, almost 650 miles away. His appearance was just one of the mini-to-major events that took place.

Another Weekend In Montie Begins

One Traffic citation was handed out all day and the winner was one Albert Scaldondi, with Mississippi plates.

He was on his way to Stanhouse to visit with his daughter and son-in-law. They brought a new life into this world. Her name, Isabella. They named her after his wife, who died a month after Teresa married Alfonse.

Dianne almost ripped up the citation and would have, were it not for Clinton.

“Sir, I appreciate your desire to get there, but speeding isn't the way to go about it. Drive the speed limit Mr. Scaldondi. Stanhouse is less than ten miles from here.”

At A Touch Of Grace, the line was still long and would stay that way until their doors closed for good.

No one Ever seem to notice the shelves never seemed to empty. No one questioned the amount of items that were always available, or their cost.

Several People would have an idea of the gift they had in mind, which Grace somehow, always manage to find in the storeroom.

Baker made her way into the store and Grace walked up to her.

“Just give me a moment, Lieutenant. Let me go in the back and get you your gift.”

When she returned, not only was Baker stunned by what she saw, but so were several other customers.

“As promised. A one-of-a-kind creation.”

Grace handed Baker back the original picture Grace worked from. Then she handed her a two-foot high, four-foot-long Catamaran, detailed with three sails, painted in a deep velvet and baby blue. And there, just as in the picture, stood two six-inch porcelain figures of Stevie and Ellie. They were held in place with special epoxy glue.

When Baker first saw the porcelain creations, there was a brief flashback when she had seen three other porcelain creations of her, Stevie, and Ed.

“Are you all right, Lieutenant?”

Regaining her composure quickly she said, “I’m fine. I’m overwhelmed. This is just beautiful. You must allow me to give you something for this.”

“What if I ask for a Locket of your hair for payment?”

“My hair?”

“It would be a fond remembrance of one who does so much, Not only for your community, but your family, as well as for strangers who are in need.”

Baker walked out minus a few strands of hair. As far as she was concerned, a priceless gift such as what she carried, she would treasure to the day she died.

As any weekend in Montie goes, people make plans, others didn't, and the rest are spontaneous.

Andre Devon had plans to take Vanessa and Jenny to Brighton to see an off-Broadway play for kids. The Muppets Save New York.

Satchell also made plans to have dinner at The Cowboy Ranch in Brighton and do a little line dancing with Sam. Of course, he checked with her first to see if she could.

J.W. and Patrick Made plans to have a quiet dinner, a bottle of wine, and as Patrick put it, “A little wild and crazy music,” at his house. This would be the first time they would spend an entire weekend together in Patrick’s home with no interruptions.

Patrick wanted to talk about the right now with J.W. He wanted to talk about tomorrow and the day after that.

He knew J.W.’s Job wasn't only stressful, but dangerous. Patrick also knew the risk he was taking, falling in love with a cop. There might come a day when policemen come to his home and tell him J.W. died in the line of duty.

That bothered him but it didn't scare him away. He could honestly say that in his life, he met two men he loved more than anything else in the world.

And when Baker came home at the end of her day with her special gift in tow, she placed it on the Mantel above the fireplace.

Ed was in complete awe.

When Stevie saw it, he called Ellie and told her she had to see what his mom brought home and that her parents needed to see this, too.

After everyone had arrived, the detail amazed Ellie. Her dad said that Grace added the boat detail from stem to stern was an exact replica.

“Something like this would take weeks to recreate and you say she did this in a matter of days? Incredible! She and her son’s must be magicians.”

“You guys will be out at Standing Room Lake tomorrow, right?”

“We should be. You want to go boating with us again, Stevie?”

“If it isn’t a problem, sir.”

“You aren’t a problem, Stevie.”

Ellie squeezed Stevie’s hand.

“That’s settled. Looking over the detail even if we are tiny, the dolls look just like us, Stevie.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of wild, huh?”

Stevie looked at his mom.

“You said you got this from A Touch Of Grace, right?”

“That I did. Ordered it and picked it up myself. We’re good.”

“Well, while you were all yacking up a storm, I called Albertini’s. They’ll be here in about twenty minutes with a couple pizza’s. So, who’s up for some Monopoly?”

When Saturday arrived, the town clock struck noon, not a soul was waiting to get inside A Touch Of Grace.

And if you looked in the windows, you would see a large empty room. The counter and all the shelves, empty. If you went into the back room where Grace and her son’s performed their mastery of one-of-a -kind pieces; it lay bare as the front.

But the City Park was filled with laughing children, teens playing soccer or tennis, and couples both young and old would walk hand in hand, or arm in arm. When you looked into the wrinkled eyes of the older couples, you would see decades of love etched and surrounded by unspoken words of always and forever yours.

But it was this Saturday afternoon, August 12, 2012, that would puzzle a few people.

Baker and Ed, with Baker driving her red Hummer, were on their way to Standing Room Lake. It wasn't quite 12:30, but in her rear-view, Baker saw a fire truck coming up behind her. She pulled over onto the shoulder to allow it to pass.

“Hope there is no fire at the Lake.”

“Don’t get excited, Jan. Those guys are doing their job. Everything is fine.”

Baker resumed her drive, driving a little faster and was about hundred feet behind the fire truck. Then she spotted another one coming from Stanhouse.

“Over there on the right, Jan. See all that smoke?”

Baker was suddenly relieved.

“And you don't need to stop, either.”

She smiled and drove past the five-mile marker to Stanhouse and a quarter mile later, took the entrance to the Lake on Ochie Woods Lane.

Meanwhile, both fire trucks, called Hook and Ladders, turned on a small dirt road that under normal circumstances, because of the vast thickness of trees on both sides could easily be missed.

And just before that road, there used to be a sign with an arrow that read: Bethany’s.

As both trucks rumbled across the dirt road, they could still see a thick plume of grayish-black smoke. They hoped they would be there in enough time to save some lives as well as property.

When they made the last winding turn and drove up onto a clear field with a dense forest in the background; there wasn’t any burning building or home and certainly, no massive fire.

There was absolutely nothing.

When the weekend anchor crew from Channel 08 news came out to get film footage of a fire called in by a woman, they were disappointed.

The fire-fighter’s from Montie and Stanhouse were scratching their heads over this one and couldn’t understand what they had seen.

They didn’t have a choice. Wherever the Doll-Maker was; she wasn’t here any longer.

And the weekend Moved on as it should. The nights grew darker, faster and they were starting to get cooler. Summer was slowly disappearing.

Oh, and the stars! By the billions. If you are like some people, you have a special star or two you talk with on nights like this. Nights that are void of everything but you're breathing and the words you impart to a star you named after a parent, a grandparent, son or daughter, husband, or wife, or that best friend.

Montie has many nights like this. This just happened to be one of them.

Don’t let this lull you to sleep.

Baker will have another fax waiting on her when she comes back to work on Monday.

After all, even Freddy deserves a fun weekend too. Wouldn’t you agree?

The most amazing thing of all happened Sunday evening, just after dark. Just when those millions or so stars appeared as if it were a magical moment and a three-quarter moon blazoned with a white aura, when the doorbell rang.

Stevie got up from the couch with Baker in the kitchen making popcorn, and Ed in the living room setting up the DVD player to play a couple movies rented earlier in the day.

When Stevie opened the door, he looked down with a shocked, yet smiling look on his face, said, “Dude! What are you doing here?”

Then he turned and yelled really loud, “Mom! Ed! We have company! Better come take a look!”

Baker and Ed came to the front door. They both had the same shocked yet pleased look on their faces.

“Leon! How did you get here?”

Thursday – August 16th

The Squad Room – 8:38 a.m.

“A final note. Yesterday was a wonderful day. Let’s make today the same way.

“Whoever is covering Main Street from the seven hundred to sixteen-hundred blocks; keep an eye on the crowd lined up waiting to get inside A Touch Of Grace. I’d hate to see a panic breakout for any reason.”

“Yeah. My wife got so upset about them closing, she actually made me sleep on the couch like it was my fault!”

Denver Jones, a swing-shift desk clerk, switched over to fill in the gap while Rick Lowery was on vacation. This meant that Spinelli and the graveyard man, Robbie McNeal, worked twelve-hour shifts.

“Probably was your fault after all, Denver, you old reprobate,” cackled Ryan Clinton.

“When are you retiring, anyway?”

“Never!”

General laughter over the banter broke freely before Baker took back control.

“Okay, guys; If there aren't any questions, then get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”

She motioned Clinton and Andrews to her side.

“Davis’s wife called in and he's caught a bug. He’ll be out until Monday. So, you \two get the saddle up together. Have a good day out there.”

Baker walked back to her office, shut behind her desk, and turned her computer on and began what she does every Thursday—a nationwide search on her unsol’s.

Fifty-seven search engines, state by state plus the FBI, CIA, CIA Canada, Interpol, Australia, South America, Africa, and Asia.

There were several cases she knew she should file away and forget about. But she held on to the belief that each missing person would one day be found, and a family would have closure and be at peace, a peace they so desperately needed.

When it came to finding the truth; quit wasn't in her job description.

2631 Seventh Street – 11:01 a.m.

His cell phone rang.

Before he answered, he pulled over a block past Maxine’s Hair Salon. To his right was a vacant lot with a sign that had the word SOLD in big red letters across it.

“This is Captain Page.”

“Hello, John. You never gave me the chance to thank you for such a beautiful gift.”

“No need to thank me, Sam. It was something I wanted to do.”

“That’s nice to know and even nicer to hear. Are you free for lunch?”

“Actually, I am. I just left the courthouse and was planning on going home to fix myself something to eat.”

“Please don't. I’m leaving to go to Del Rio’s. Why don't you meet me there, say 11:30?”

Satchell smiled.

“It’ll be closer to 11:45 for me but if I remember correctly, today is their meatloaf special. It’s the best anywhere around for miles.”

Samantha laughed.

“Then meatloaf it is.”

Del Rio’s – 12:55 p.m.

Satchell looked at his watch.

“My, God! The time has gotten away from me. I have an appointment with a plumber at my apartment at one-thirty. I really have to go, Sam.

“But I have enjoyed our time together. Thank you for the invitation.”

“My pleasure, John. And thank you for the tip on the meatloaf. You were right.”

“I’m also happy you like the locket.”

Satchell watched as she held it up and looked at it again.

“I just don’t know how you managed to have this done.”

“I gave Grace Middleton the idea and she ran with it. Give her the credit, not me.”

Samantha looked again as the clouds moved across the blue sky, and then they crossed over her and Satchell's face, etched into the background of the sky.

“This is a gift I will treasure the rest of my life.”

They made their way out to the parking lot and with an embrace that felt good to both, and a kiss that could have lingered longer, Satchell told Sam he would call Friday after work.

Five minutes later, his car was out of sight.

Amazing what A Touch Of Grace can do to spark a new romance. Wouldn’t you agree?

Baker’s Office – 4:47 p.m.

No hits. No families to call. In a way that was terrible. In another way, it was just as well. Delivering bad news, no matter the reason, is never good, even if it means finding a child long since dead.

She has seen the same look on every parent's face. The initial look of shock, followed with eyes filling with tears. Their bodies begin to shake. Some cry quietly, other scream their pain and rage for a lost son or daughter. It was the same in every place she had went; yet, each time the pain still became the road to peace, and in a way, made a difference.

Just not today.

Before she decided to leave, she looked in on Lee Austin, just to see if there were anything else she needed to know.

She saw where he applied for and received his driver’s license and a PI license. It also showed his permit to carry a standard police .38 Special. Interesting.

Then she backpedaled even further, back before Ricky, Lee’s brother was murdered. Austin Senior left both his son’s with a hunk of cash. Each received $400,000. After Ricky was buried, he had bequeathed half of that to his daughter’s and with what remained, another $30,000 to Lee. Between his and his wife’s insurance policies, after funeral expenses, there was an additional hundred-grand set aside for Ricky’s girls. At least their futures were assured.

But what future was Lee Austin going after? PI’s don’t make six-figures, yet alone a decent five-figure number.

Baker hit Ctrl/alt/del, shut off her computer and left her office, hitting the light switch on the way.

“Enough for now. I’ll worry about Lee, later.”

Friday – August 17th

The Squad Room – 8:33 a.m.

“It looks like we’ll make it into the weekend without so much as a fender-bender, a broken bone, or a black eye from anyone.

“Andrews and Clinton, keep an eye on Grace’s place, at least until after they are packed up tomorrow.

“Oooops, sorry.”

“What? No overtime, Baker?” said Clinton.

“I forgot today is Friday. Keep an eye on her place. The team tomorrow will get the memo for Grace’s then.

“And another reminder; next week, starting Tuesday, we start the drive for MDA.

“Now, I’m going to be a shameless mother for a minute.

“My son, Stevie, has brokered a deal with Insta-Printer’s, and on consignment, he has in our garage no less; 720 dozen T-shirts that look like this.”

She held one up and passed two others around where everyone could see close up what was on the shirts.

“The proceeds from the sales is a break-even venture for Insta-Printer’s. The shirt sells for ten dollars. Jerry’s Kids get to keep six of that ten.”

“Your boy is a helluva salesman, Baker.”

“I know, J.W,” smiled Baker.

“We will have five-hundred dozen shirts to sell between Tuesday and September third and we will get it done. All right, I’m finished being a shameless mother.

“Now go on and get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”

LaGuardia Airport – 10:03 a.m.

Lee Austin Loaded the jetliner that would travel nonstop to London. Then he would exchange flights in Frankfurt, Germany, then go by train straight through to Vienna. There would be a twenty-hour layover as only one train travels from Vienna, to Bucharest, Romania, and that was where easy stopped.

From that point until he arrived where he believed Freddy would strike next, Lebanon; the rest of the journey would be on old roadways by bus.

If things worked out, he should be there by Wednesday. If Freddy kept the same timeline; Freddy will meet his maker.

In the holding area, inside a lead-lined trunk, was enough firepower to knock out a small village.

If need be, he would use every round on Freddy.

Wednesday – August 15th

The Twenty-Second Precinct – 8:53 a.m.

“Okay, guys. Just before we all head out for the day, Mayor Marsh has an announcement to make. It’s why I asked you all out here in the parking lot where everyone can hear her.”

“Ladies and gentlemen; first off, I want to thank each and every one of you for your selfless courage and outstanding performance and diligence to not only the safety of our city, but to our residents and our children.

“I was never prouder of each one of you on the day the vice-president was here and handed out your citations. That was the first time on record an entire police force received that much recognition. You do yourselves proud.”

The outside exploded into applause and whistles, then quieted down when she raised her hand.

“I have here, two awards; one of which is given to the top qualifier at Brewster's Gun Club. And I am happy to announce that Andre Devon is this year’s winner.”

Andre step forward as more applause and calls of, “Way to go, Cisco!” filled the air.

Jean Marsh pinned the Expert Medal on his shirt just below his badge. Andre thanked her, waved to all his partners in the parking lot and went back and stood next to J.W.

“This Next award is brand new. It is named the Davenport Award. As many of you know, Patrick Davenport owns and runs our animal clinic and shelter.

“He came to me a while back with an idea I instantly agreed with. This award not only speaks about individual bravery, but also speaks about care, concern, and a love for animals. This award, I and proud the say, goes to the officer who, at significant risk to her own life, made sure every pet, both in the clinic and personally owned, were kept out of harm's way when the tornado struck.

“Our first recipient and hopefully not our last, and may we follow her example; I am proud to give this medallion to Officer Dianne Andrews.”

Blushing and smiling, every cop there applauded her as she made her way to Mayor Marsh. She heard many voices as she made her way to receive her medallion as everyone was practically saying the same thing, “Congratulations! You deserve this! You’re one hell of a cop!”

Mayor Marsh placed the medallion over Dianne's head. on one side we're three engraved faces of animals. on the reverse was an engraved etching of a policeman with the dog with these words surrounding it: Preserve – Protect - Defend – Honor – Courage.

Looking down at the medallion. She thanked Mayor Marsh, then she looked out at her peers.

“When I decided to be a cop, I knew the risks I took, especially being a woman and being accepted by my peers. Over time, the acceptance came easier than I expected, but I also found the risks worthwhile when doing the right thing.

“Again, thank you Mayor Marsh, and thank you, Mr. Davenport. This is one award that will always remain special to me.”

There were a few more whistles and applause before Baker took back control of the area.

“Thank you, Mayor Marsh, and as Officer Andrews said, thank you Mr. Davenport on behalf of the Twenty-Second, to recognize one of our own.

“Now, after all this excitement, if there isn’t anything else, if there are no questions, I just want to add one thing; celebrity photos and autographs will be held at five this afternoon for anyone interested in having their picture taken with Devon and Andrews.

“Otherwise, we are running late, so get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”

Davenport Animal Clinic – 9:47 a.m.

“Hello, this is Patrick Davenport.”

“Hello yourself, Patrick.”

“James! This is a surprise.”

“No, you are the surprise. That was a wonderful thing you did, having an award given to Andrews.”

“Ah, I see. So then, Mayor Marsh was able to get it to her.”

“Yes, but why didn’t you give it to her yourself?”

“I know you said the Lieutenant and the Captain knows you are gay as well as your partner, Andre, but forgive me, I was afraid I may have spent more time looking at you than Dianne Andrews.”

J.W. rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Patrick. How Does a trip back to Brighton sound to you this weekend?”

“Love it.”

“Then be ready after five come Friday. I’ll pick you up at your place.”

“Love you, James.”

“You too, Patrick.”

J.W. looked at the grin on Devon’s face.”

“What?”

“You, that’s what.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe No one else can see what I see, but I see a man very much in love. And I say it's about time.

“Now, let's go and see if we can avoid catching some bad guys today!”

3649 Hester Avenue – 11:17 a.m.

Stevie drove up to Ellie's parent’s house and parked in their driveway. As he walked to the front door, he carried a paper bag holding T-shirts.

Ellie Saw him pull in had opened the door just as he was about to ring their doorbell.

“Hi, Stevie. This is a surprise.”

“Hi, Ellie.”

As He entered the house, they gave each other a quick kiss.

“So, what's in the bag?”

“Tee’s for you and your parents. I’ve Already handed out T shirts to all the guys who will help us raise money for MDA. Tell me what you think.”

Stevie reached in the bag, pulled out a T shirt that had the words: I Am A Volunteer for MDA, printed in an arc over a graphic picture of Jerry Lewis and a small child, and underneath it read: For Jerry’s Kids.

“That is so cool, Stevie! Mom and dad will just love this.”

“I hope so. There are 10,000 more just like these.”

“What!”

“I came up with the idea on my own a few days ago. I went to a print shop and he made a deal with me for just his cost. We sell 10,000 shirts for ten dollars, he gets four, and the rest goes to MDA.

“We can sell these door-to-door, and the police can sell some at the Arena. It’s a win-win situation.”

“You rock, Stevie. That is a great idea.”

“So, ah … you want to go out to the Lake today?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, sorry. Mom’s sister is coming in from Salt Lake City sometime today with her two sons, and I promised I’d stay home in case they showed up before either mom or dad get home from work.”

“Okay. How long are they staying?”

“I really think for good. Aunt Violet and Uncle Victor are separated right now, and it doesn’t look good. I guess Aunt Violet caught Uncle Victor cheating on her or something like that.”

“Ouch! Not good. The only time someone should see another person is if they are already single, divorced, or widowed. Otherwise, work your problems out, get past them and keep the marriage or relationship going.”

“Is that what you would do? Work on the problem?”

“Sure, I would, Ellie. I’d be a coward if I said I would quit and walk away and not try to make things right or better somehow.

“I sometimes think that that’s part of the world’s problem. A situation or crisis happens, and instead of finding a way to peacefully resolve things; people just let things get worse until it’s too late.”

“Stevie? Will we always love each other?”

“I don’t know how long always, is; but however long it is, that’s how long I want to stay in love with you and have us be the best of friends, too.”

Ellie threw her arms around his neck, kissing and hugging him tightly to her body.

“Me, too. I hope we always stay best friends. I pray we never lose the love we have.”

Pulling back a tiny bit, Stevie said, “As long as we remain true to each other and do for each other, we can make what we have right now a little stronger each day of our lives together."

Ellie pulled back and looked into Stevie’s eyes.

“It’s times like this, I am happy you are in my life.”

The Twenty-Second Precinct – 1:47 p.m.

“So, where is he Spinelli?”

“Up in your office, Baker. He’s been up there right after I called you.”

Walking the flight of steps to her office with Dian ne right behind her, this was to be an unexpected surprise. On the way back to the Stationhouse, she mentioned him to Dianne.

“I remember him. He's the guy who saved the mother and her baby in town from a burning car moments before it exploded.”

“One and the same,”

“Now that guy is a real hero.”

“I agree, but I wonder what he's doing back here?”

As Baker walked into her office, Ronald Gunderson stood, turned, and smiled at her.

From what she could remember the long dark hair was now cut much shorter, his face clean shaven, and he traded in jeans and boots for a two-piece suit.

“Lieutenant Baker, It is a sincere pleasure to see you again.”

He extended his arm, and both shook hands.

“Ronald Gunderson, right? Headed West for a job.”

“Good memory. Because of your help, I made it there in plenty of time. Since then, up until two months ago, I've been able to have visitation rights with my kids. Again, all because of your help. I can never repay you enough for your kindness, but I can at least repay the loan.”

Ronald reached inside his coat pocket and extracted a white envelope he handed to Baker.

Baker looked inside and counted $4,000\.

“Mr. Gunderson, I gave you $1,500. This is far too much.”

“Not really, Not when you consider a new belt, a rebuilt engine, new tires and labor; I'd say that pretty much spot on.”

“Sorry,” she said. “What I gave you was a gift. I never take a gift back once it's been given.”

Ronald started to reach for it when he pulled back.

“Then what if you take it and use it to help someone else or donate it to a charity of your choice.”

“Now that I can do. We will be starting our MDA drive shortly. I can drop this in along with other contributions.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll be leaving now, but I want to thank you one more time for all your help.”

He handed Baker one of his business cards and on the back he had written his home address.

“I’d you and your family ever make it out my way, stop in. I have a few spare rooms. I’d be honored to have you and yours as my guests.”

Baker looked at the card and smiled. Ronald Gunderson, Director of Operations.

“You Have made progress. I'm delighted everything worked out for you. And, if my son and husband and I ever do get out your way; will be sure to stop by.”

She watched as Ronald walked out of her office and it did her psyche good knowing that something positive can happen in people’s lives that venture through Montie.

She looked at the card again. Jackson Hole, Wyoming.

She sat down in front of her computer and Googled the city and population. She found it was a little larger than Montie in both size and population. Ronald has seven acres of flatlands about twenty-five miles northeast of Jackson Hole. the company he works for, Western Industries, which drills for oil, was twenty miles South of him.

Baker mused a thought to herself; Dianne voiced that same thought\.

“Makes you wonder if he has horses, doesn't it?”

The Rest Of The Day In Montie

As most people do, they worked. Some we're on deadlines trying to finish up July's monthly report to their corporations by the twentieth.

Other people were meeting immediate order deadlines such as the drive-thru’s at McDonald's, Burger King, and Taco Bell.

No matter who did what, no matter what pressures may be faced, the residents and employees of Montie could feel other pressures of danger long gone; faded away like night changing today.

Single or married, mattered not. People would relax tonight and enjoy a night filled with peace and quiet.

Even Channel 08 news couldn't dredge up anything locally that could be considered horrifying or dangerous.

But there was a bit of personal sadness at Jack and Peggy Anders house. Lee informed them he had just taken on his first case as an investigator. It would involve a lot of surveillance and that he could be gone for as long as three months.

His rent was paid at his apartment for six months in advance, so there wouldn't be any questions there. He promised to call Jack and Peggy if there were any problems.

Later that night when he was in his own place, he bought a one-way ticket to Lebanon. Showing his passport at the gate wouldn't be an issue Top of the line forgery by a close friend.

According to news around the world, there was a lot of civil and political unrest there. A Syrian general was making claims to take control of Syria, Lebanon, and Damascus.

Would General Masya El Kaliya, be the next target? Lee would find out soon enough.

The Baker-Manning Home

111 Homestead Lane – 7:30 p.m.

“I swear, Ed; today was just a real honest-to-god, do nothing kind of day. And damn, it felt good.”

“When days like this one comes around, they do be special.”

“And we,” she said, squeezing his right hand, “have had our special days, too. I treasure each and every one of them.”

She kept silent a minute before making her subtle announcement.

“A Touch Of Grace is closing up shop and leaving Friday.”

“That’s kind of odd. They’ve only been here, what, about a month?”

“Pretty much. Grace Middleton Explained there were family issues she had to attend. Just a shame. They are doing so well, and the place has been nearly filled with people every day they've been opened. Grace did say they might be back again.”

“That would be nice. They sure didn't put a spark in this town.”

“There must have been another hundred people waiting to get in when they close their doors tonight. I’m betting they will be the first hundred in line tomorrow when they open.

“I’ve never seen anyone like her before. It’s as if she's a magician and just says, kazammy-whammy, appear now! And bingo, there is something new and exciting right before your very eyes.”

Ed chuckled.

“Wouldn’t it be something if we could all do a kazammy-whammy; then again, maybe not. Most magic tricks are just that, tricks. Whatever it is she and her sons do is an art form; something handed down to them from generation to generation.”

“No doubt, Ed. Enough. Anything good on TV tonight?”

“An oldie on Nick at Night. The Raven.”

“Intrigue, mystery, murder; all the things I want to stay away from tonight.”

Stevie snuck up behind them and said, “There is always the Cartoon Network. In ten minutes, it's a three-hour cartoon special with a grip of Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Elmer Fudd, Tweety, and Sylvester, and who knows what else.”

“You making the popcorn this time, Bub?”

“No problem, mom.”

“So much for The Raven.”

“Don’t feel sad, Ed. Grab the remote. It’s time for some mindless laughter.”

1224 Clearfield Street – 7:55 p.m.

Lee started tracking Jerry Miller, George Lassiter, and Tracy McPherson. They were Freddy's most used aliases.

He was able to find photographs of all three men. All deceased. None of them over forty.

Freddy’s last known potential location: New York City, August 9th. Then he remembered what he found on Baker’s computer. Freddy had been inside the police station and left a head to be discovered. Somebody’s secretary in London, and something about him having to be somewhere in Asia.

Lee checked overseas papers and passports and couldn't find anything on a professional hit on anyone important. Either it hasn't yet been done or he used the word Asia, to throw Baker off his trail.

As he scanned various newspapers, Lee did catch a small two-paragraph report of a man found in his apartment, penis cut away, throat slashed, and dozens of photographs were found of young boys and girls scattered all over the apartment. Apparently, according to a letter written by the deceased, many of the children pictured, he had sold into slavery.

“Freddy, you aren't fooling me.”

He hacked into each major airlines computer system that flew into Tokyo between August 9th and the 11th. He had a listing of every ticket sold, either one way or round trip and found one name he recognized. Tracy McPherson.

Lee looked at his world map, grabbed a green pushpin and stuck it in Tokyo. Green was for personals. Red was for contract kills.

Thus far, Lee still couldn't get a real pattern as in destination and not every one of Freddy’s aliases would show up online when he made a kill. It was as if he flew himself from place to place at times.

Lee did see on the map a large gap from China, India, Iran, and Iraq. Plus, there were no hits in Africa. Was that odd? Or on purpose?

“Freddy, I’ll have you figured out soon enough. Then I’m coming after you.”

Monday – August 13th

The Squad Room – 8:39 a.m.

“I can tell you that Jimmy and his son, Blake, were released from the hospital late Saturday afternoon. As far as what will happen between them, how they will try and heal from what happened, is a road they will either deal with or not. I wish them both well. What I do know is that his business won’t reopen until after Labor Day.

“On a lighter note; just a reminder to all of you who volunteered for MDA, we start up a week from tomorrow. All shifts will have a final reminder in your inbox on Monday the twentieth. So be advised. If something comes up, we do have eleven alternates if needed.

“Beyond that, if there aren't any questions, then get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”

“Hold on a second.”

Heads turn and smiles appeared on everyone's faces.

“I’m delivering the donuts today, so don't any of you guys go anywhere just yet.”

Baker shook her head as Ed walked to the front and sat six boxes of a variety of pastries on a table.

“Ed, you didn't have to do that.”

“I know, but you kept telling me the guys wanted to see my ugly mug and here I am.”

The next twenty minutes were spent in asking Ed how he was doing. A few even said he should come back on the force.

“Sorry, but Robo-Cop I’m not. But one day, you guys might see me in a courtroom prosecuting the people you arrest.”

Eventually, the bodies in blue filtered out with the comments of, “Good to see you again,” to “Come back more often,” and “Don’t be such a stranger.”

Then it was just the two of them.

Ed excused himself a minute, went into the break room and yelled loudly enough for Baker to hear him.

She walked in and Ed sat at a table with two coffees and a chocolate donut and two eclairs.

“I couldn't forget my favorite Lieutenant of all time.”

She sat down next to Ed, squeezed his left hand which automatically squeezed back with the right amount of pressure, and she smiled at him.

“A clever way to start off a week. God, I love you, Ed Manning.”

A Touch Of Grace – 10:30 a.m.

“I can see from your smile, mother, you are happy about something.”

“Yes, I am. I suspect before very long, there will be two people who will finally join mind, body and soul and unite in both the sanctity of marriage and the realms that love has to offer.”

“You speak of that policeman, Page?”

“Yes. Destiny has called us here, and we in turn; help with that destiny for others.”

“You do know, mother, darkness lurks. An evil presence has invaded other people’s thoughts.”

“Yes, Jonah. I have been aware long before our coming here. I also know without evil, goodness cannot last forever, just as evil cannot last.

“Yet, when the two are close to one another, one must part the way so the other can take control. And soon , that very thing will happen.”

“I heard you, mother,” said her other son, Brian. “Does this mean our stay here is almost over?”

“That I cannot answer as yet, Brian, but we will know soon enough.” Grace blinked her eyes several times.

“Enough of what will or won’t be. We have work to do, shelves to fill. Let us begin our day.”

Taco Bell – 12:15 p.m.

Devon, J.W., Baker, Dianne, Clauson and Klugston were sitting outside at a concrete table, munching taco’s, tostada’s, and chicken and beef chimichanga’s.

“It’s nice not to have to rush off to a call or stop a speeder, or break up a fight,” remarked Terrance Klugston.

“I’m just happy,” said his partner, Henry, “to wake up this morning knowing I still have a job.”

“Yeah,” replied Devon. “It would scare the hell out of us if you showed up dead!”

Everyone laughed.

“You know what I mean. Every time we put on this uniform we become a target, we become the subject or object of someone’s idea of a bad time. Just to wake up and smell the air, no matter how bad it can be on some days, is a good thing.”

“How’s your wife doing with the pregnancy?” asked Baker.

“She’s doing really good,” replied Clauson. “She goes back to her doctor next week for another check-up; but things are looking good for us.”

One thing Henry had right, thought Baker, it’s days like today that’s worth waking up to.

And the rest of the day would meet a quiet evening, and for once, though you would never hear the independent, ye collective sigh; every man and woman in blue felt today was a beautiful day.

No one anywhere died.

Tuesday = August 14th

A Touch Of Grace – 9:30 a.m.

All because of a quarter-page ad in the Montie Daily, a quick thirty-second announcement on Channel 08 Evening News, and along with the sign in the window, people filled the store and there was a line over a city block long.

People were clamoring to get those special items they would never see again. all the ads said the same thing: Due to personal family responsibilities, August 18th will be our last day. The doors will close at noon. Every item is half price.

The money spent was incredible, but it seemed no matter the purchase, another specialty item would replace the “last” one-of-a-kind item previously sold.

In a vision while asleep last night, Grace saw that she and her sons must move to another location. On the 21st of August, they would arrive (always showing up on a Tuesday) and open on Thursday (all part of the plan given her).

In her vision, she saw two men, one dangerous with a horrific past; the other, one of courage, yet filled with anger. She watched as both would do battle with only one walking away.

Hopefully, when that moment neared, her store would be nearby to help the goodness of one man's heart to overrule the dark heart of the other. But as with all things, nothing is ever guaranteed. Well, except the items she sold.

In the meantime, her sons worked speedily to create new and interesting items. After all, the store's logo must be met: We Bring The World To Your Home.

Baker just happened to be one of the people in line, who, after two hours, was finally inside. She what over to where Grace Middleton was standing, right behind the cash register.

“I don’t understand. Here not quite a month and already you are leaving us.”

“As I have tried to explain to others, we have family matters to attend to, and as regrettable as it is; business or not, family always comes before the coin. At least we are giving many a chance to bring a part of the world into their home.”

“I’m sorry. I hope you may reconsider one day and come back to Montie. You and your sons would be welcomed and the three of you are just so … creative. There hasn't ever been anyone like the three of you here before. You will be missed.”

“Oh, thank you. One day we may come back after all. In the meantime, what is it I can do for you?”

“Here is a photo of my son, Stevie, and his girlfriend, Ellie. They are standing on her father’s Catamaran. I was wondering if you could recreate this for me in some way. that is if you'll have enough time. if not, it's okay.”

“I don't see why I can't. Be here Friday. I will have it ready by then.”

“That soon?”

“We leave Friday at noon. Between myself and my boys, Friday will be perfect.”

“How much?”

“For you? For what you do for your community as well as your family? No charge.”

“I can't let…”

“No charge and not another word. Now, I have other customers. I will see you Friday, say around ten?”

Baker smiled, then walked out of the store. What an extremely interesting family. They haven't even left, and she could sense from the eyes of people waiting in line, they were saddened to see them go.

Inside, Grace placed the picture in the pocket of her light blue smock. She would have Baker’s gift ready after closing tonight.

Davenport Animal Clinic – 1:43 p.m.

“Terry, I just got off the phone with a retired married couple over in Mellon. Do you know where it is?”

“It’s north of here about eighty miles over in Elsmere County. You go through Stanhouse, stay on 60 for another eleven miles or so as if you're heading to Jefferson. Take Highway 15, which is a winding route for nine miles, and you run smack into Mellon. Why? What’s up there?”

“The Kincade’s. Retired couple, and they have about three dozen dogs in kennels, but both are in their nineties and well …”

“Let me guess. You said sure, we’ll take them.”

“Not exactly like that but close enough. Question is, do we have the room?”

Terry held up a finger, in his other hand is his cell phone.

“Yes, Kevin? Oh, sorry, John. No, that’s okay. You can give me an amount as good as Kevin could. How many empty cages do we have? Sure, I can wait.”

Looking at Patrick, Terry said, “He’s checking this morning’s latest entry.

“What? Oh, great! Thanks, John, and FYI, tell Kevin to be expecting thirty-six pups and adults.”

Putting his cell in his pants pocket, Terry said, “We’re in luck. We have forty-two empties, so it won’t be a problem, Patrick.”

“That’s good, and I have another idea I want to run by you.”

“You have my attention.”

“You know that empty space behind the grooming rooms?”

Terry nodded.

“I did some checking and there is one wall that dead ends or the kennel is. I’m toying with the idea of giving it an outdoorsy, playroom setting where the dogs can roam around for a few hours every day.

“It would cost about $20,000 for a running brook, fake grass, toys, lighting and drop traps where the grass is. The drop traps open just enough based on weight and pressure when the dogs party. That will then drop into a bin That is constantly sluiced with water from the time we open, until we close, and the waste drops into a hundred-gallon metal bin we exchange out for a new one when it fills.”

“Wow, Patrick, that’s a hell of a project. I just don't know if the trap thing will work, but the rest sounds good. It’s like Kevin and John could walk eight dogs an hour, and in an environment the dogs would readily adapt to.”

“Not only that, but when they are adopted, we can almost guarantee they are housebroken.”

“If you’re looking for my approval, I say why not. Like I said though, I’m not sure about the drop traps. Then again, that would be something to see.”

“If they don't work at first, I can get the company that would install them, to make certain they worked.”

“Sounds great, Patrick.”

“How is your wife doing?”

“Wonderful. Actually, before I forget, she asked me to ask you to have dinner at our home Friday night.”

“Oh, I'd love to go, Terry, but I already have a dinner date for Friday.”

“Well, good for you. Is she from around here?”

Patrick smiled but wasn't sure how to answer his question.

“Actually, my date is from out of state.”

“I hope you have a wonderful time. Maybe you can join us for dinner another time.”

“I’d love too.”

Another Weekend in Montie

There would be plenty of news coverage of the tragic events which led to the suicide of Lydia Brewster.

Jennifer Ralston and her cameraman were on the scene thirty minutes after everything was over. She was able to get a few comments from Captain Page, and a brief statement from Jimmy Brewster. As requested by Baker, Jennifer didn’t attempt to interview Blake. But Jennifer would close out the news report with a positive.

“Here at Channel 08, on behalf of our Producers and Directors and staff; our utmost and deepest condolences for the Brewster family during this terribly sad and tragic event. We hope the time that passes helps to heal the hurt and pain. This is Jennifer Ralston, Channel 08 news, reporting live.”

Lee had spent a good portion of his day with the return trip from DMV and was able to get his driver’s license easy enough, and twenty minutes after that, he was at the Licensing Bureau to pay for the application fee for his private investigators permit to carry a registered weapon in his name. Everything was time-dated and stamped with the state of New York's seal. For all outward appearances, Lee Austin is legal.

After stopping off at Burger King to grab something to eat, he would spend the rest of his Friday night searching the Internet for better than three dozen aliases and trying to pinpoint in advance where Freddy may strike.

Thanks to Baker’s computer with all the sensitive information she had on him, Lee had a working knowledge of how Freddy operated.

Killer or assassin for hire, take your pick. They were all high to mid-level people and if it benefited him, if in the same region, he would take on a personal kill.

Freddy killed either drug dealers or suppliers who profited off unsuspecting kids. He also killed those who dealt in either underground trafficking of underage boys and girls (and sometimes young women 18-25) that would be sold off as prostitutes or brought into the porn trade (films). But the most graphic in nature that would make you vomit, were the underage snuff films.

Even though Lee hated Freddy for what he did to his brother and Carol Anne, he still held a microcosm of respect for what he was doing. If Freddy had never pulled the trigger that day, he wouldn’t be getting ready to do what he promised Ricky he would do.

Hunt Freddy down and kill him.

Before his weekend was over, he would find that Freddy, over the last seven months has used three names more than once, or so it would appear. these names surfaced in hotels around the country and went into the vicinity of a murder. as with Baker's computer, hacking other systems around the world is just as easy. But it appeared those would be the names he would track Freddy with and hopefully, get ahead of him.

Of course, the weekend isn't all about anger, pain, death, and retribution. For some, it's more about enjoying one of the three weekends left before school started.

And if you were at Standing Room Lake, You would see Stevie and Ellie, along with her parents, Barry, and Jolene Whitmore, cruising up and down the Lake.

There or other boaters and water skiers out as well as a few swimmers enjoying an already sweltering day. The length of the beach was pretty much filled with hundreds of people out to get a tan or get their tan darker. And the kids? Building sandcastles or filling their plastic buckets with sand and burying a parent alive.

In other places, shoppers shopped. Parents looking for the best deals on those back-to-school items. New clothes, shoes, tennis shoes, backpacks, and other assorted school materials.

For some parents, it would be their last time buying school clothes for their son or daughter. Graduation would be coming. For the newbies, it was their first year.

As one parent said at a checkout line after paying $112.75 for her sons first year, “This is only the beginning. I’ll probably spend another $10,000 by the time my son graduates.”

She looked at the cashier and the lady behind her as she swiped her credit card to pay her bill said, ”It’s almost enough to make a parent want to run away from home!”

Those that weren't shopping, were taking care of their yards, mowing lawns, or tending to their floral gardens. To them , they knew that in a few months everything would be gone until next spring when the ritual would start over. By November, the snow would start falling and staying around far too long like a friend who extends his stay far longer than you wanted. The only difference is that the snow will leave when it's ready and not before.

Andre Devon invited J.W. to his house for another backyard cookout. By this time, J.W. had confided in Andre about Patrick, and that, “Although we really haven’t made a commitment to each other, it's slowly headed that way.”

So, there they were, Andre, his wife, Vanessa and daughter, Jenny, with J.W. and Patrick, a get-together of friends, just as it was meant to be.

There had been a brief point when Patrick lightly squeezed J.W.'s hand, and Jenny came up to him and said, “That’s nice. I have girlfriends that holds hands, too. We are the bestest of friends. J.W.? Are you and Patick bestest friends?”

J.W. looked over at Andre and Andre shrugged as if to say, “Poncho, you’re on your own.”

Kneeling down, J.W. stared into her bright green eyes, smiling, and said, “Jenny, we are the very best of friends.”

“And honey,” said Vanessa, “his name is Patrick, not Patick.”

“Oh. I’m sorry Pat-trick. I’m happy you have another friend like my daddy does.”

J.W. stood and winked at Andre.

“You know what she meant,” grinned Andre.

In another part of town, a couple were found sitting on the back porch of Dianne's home as she poured another glass of ice-tea for her and Johnathan.

He was getting stronger every day that went by. since the shooting July 12th, Jonathan had been lifting weights starting at ten pounds and now he was at 120. The rehab clinic was helping him restore his strength. He also took long walks and alternated that with short runs. Between that and Dianne's cooking, he put on a much needed twenty pounds. Another twenty wouldn't hurt.

After all, no married man wants to be tired on his wedding night.

The doctors had taken x-rays recently and we're pleased at how his progress was coming along. It was expected he could be back to work by mid-November.

Jonathan and Dianne were looking forward to a new life experience together and hopefully, a long one filled with rug-rats running around the house.

Then there was Baker and Ed. Stevie gone for the day, It was just them, alone. Alone to enjoy each other’s company.

With all Baker had endured over the past several weeks, she had more nervous energy and tension wound up inside her than even she or Ed knew.

But they would find out.

Both lost count of the orgasm's that screamed from beneath the sheets held in a total disarray. Neither released their hold on one another. Later, just as Stevie announced he was home; would they let go their lovers bond and with a sly grin, Ed said to her in a soft voice,

“Maybe I should get it replaced with some bionics, too.”

Baker laughed and punched him in his real shoulder.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Satchell. A man who swore he would never get involved with another woman again. A man who had called Samantha Saturday night and asked if he could stop by on Sunday.

Samantha readily agreed.

Give Satchell a badge and a gun, and he knew what was expected of him. But four years has gone by since June was killed. Samantha was his first real contact, or date, and he was nervous. He still wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do.

But he was there, sitting on her front porch, talking small talk, before Samantha said, “John, you didn't ask to come out here to see me to talk about the weather or how well your precinct is doing. What’s really on your mind”

Satchell inhaled sharply, exhaled slowly.

“You. You are on my mind.”

“Really? That’s surprising coming from a man who doesn’t want to be involved.”

“That’s why I’m talking about the weather,” he grinned. “It’s easier than talking about emotions.”

“John, I know how much you loved June and,”

“No, Samantha, you don’t know. Even Don doesn't know how much I loved his sister. Her family doesn't know the depth of my feelings for her. But I can tell you it's a depth I don't know if I can ever reach again.

“But there is something about you Sam, that I'm drawn to. Maybe it's the lilt in your voice, the sparkle in your eyes, your soothing voice, all those times when you touch me in a certain way. Maybe it's your resolve, your outlook on life. Even though I've tried to fight against it, I find myself drawn to you, and somehow, I'm not so afraid as I was four years ago, or a month ago, or even yesterday. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to try again, with you.”

“John, You never have to be afraid of me. Honestly, I would very much love to know more about the men behind the badge. I said it once before; I find you a very intriguing man.

And I would enjoy being anywhere you are as long as you wanted, and I say that without strings attached.

“John, let's work on the closeness of friends first, and take each step after that, not with a question or concern, but with an open mind to a future that is out there waiting to see what we'll do with it.”

Satchell smiled and stood up. For him, it was getting late. Then, recalling he almost forgot part of his reason for being with Samantha, he reached inside his coat pocket.

“Before I forget and I almost did, this is for you.”

“You didn't have to get me anything.”

“I know. I went into their specialty store the other day and the urge came over me. Please, Sam, take this as a gift, from … a friend. One who likes you very much.”

Satchell handed her the box. Samantha stood on her tip toes and kissed him lightly on his lips, then stood back and smiled.

“And that one didn't hurt either of us.”

“I’ll call you next week, say Wednesday. would you like to go out to dinner with me. Hell, I said that backwards.”

She laughed.

“I’d love to.”

“Look for my call then. I hope you enjoy the gift.”

“What’s your rush?”

“Monday’s come fast and early. Take care and be safe.”

Satchell walked down the steps, past her gated fence, into his car and was gone. He was smiling all the way home.

Samantha felt the warmness about her, then opened Satchell’s gift to her. Her eyes flew open in astonishment. It was a work of beauty, almost magical.

The silver holding the gemstones were intricately designed with two smaller hearts crossing over each other. But it was the moving picture of a night sky filled with stars and a full moon and two other things that took her breath away.

She looked up, but Satchell’s car was gone. As much as it would pain her to wait and tell Satchell he just captured her heart for good, but she would wait for the right time.

As she looked at the night sky and moon, on the right-hand side was an image of him and her. How he ever managed that, surprised her, but left her with huge smiles.

Of course, Samantha looked at it again in the daylight and she would see a blue sky and billowing white clouds. Yes, it was magical.

And Satchell? He didn’t have a clue.

1224 Clearfield Street – 12:30 p.m.

Lee found a nice duplex and had it partially furnished. One bed, one chair, one table, one computer and several notebooks.

His Uncle Jack and Aunt Peggy tried to talk him out of moving, but Lee simply explained that after what happened, he would need some time alone, but that he would come back and visit often.

Two days ago, he had a satellite connection and immediately started the track down the elusive Frederick Uri Kristen.

Lee not only found him elusive, but extremely dangerous. Freddy was never in a country very long. Switches identities often. Though not proven; only because he has never been caught, he is suspected of at least seventy-six murders, two of those being Ricky and Carol Anne. Of the seventy-six, twenty-eight were sanctioned kills for pay. The rest were personal. The man was a psychopath that needed to be stopped.

With his training and background, and a few contacts in the states; he believed he could be put on the right track to get Freddy before Freddy even knew he was got.

His doorbell rang.

Walking to the door, he looked out from behind a window shade and saw a UPS truck. Opening the door, the delivery driver asked, “Sir, are you Lee Austin?”

“Yes.”

“Sign here, please. You have a total of six boxes. I still have to get the remaining three for you.”

Lee took the electronic pen, signed a plastic cover and immediately, a receipt printed out.

In that short amount of time, the delivery driver was back with the remaining three boxes. he grabbed his electronic box and said, “Those last three are really heavy. You building something?”

Lee grinned.

“You could say that.”

When the driver left and was out of sight, Lee either picked up, or swung each box into the living room. five boxes and one crate. On time.

The first box he opened had a set of luggage inside. Each one lead-lined to prevent x-ray scanning in airports to see beyond any clothes inside. There was also a silver metallic briefcase, also lead-lined, which would prevent airport security from seeing anything beyond notebooks, pads, pens, folders, a calculator, and perhaps an iPod and sunglasses.

In another box were six handguns and two cases of hand grenades. Two Colt .44’s, another Colt 1911 semi-automatic, a Styler 9mm semi-automatic (lightweight and never jams), a Desert Eagle .50 Caliber, and a .32 caliber hideaway for his ankle.

In the crate, stacked on top of each other, or three stainless steel trunks, about a foot taller and wider than most. they too were lead-lined. Just like the suitcases and briefcase, the sides, top and bottom panels were easily removed to keep things hidden you didn't want seen.

In the remaining boxes you would find about 10,000 rounds of ammunition for each specific weapon he had. There were also smoke bombs, gas masks, flak-jackets, night-vision goggles and two other weapons. An AR-15 that fires 5.56 rounds and the AK-47 which fires 7.62 rounds; each per second, both can do extensive damage to a human body. there were also twenty, twenty-round clips for each, as well as ten, fifty-round clips. Finally, there was the short-barrel .30-30 shotgun.

Always good to have friends in high places.

Weapons wise, Lee felt he had all he would need, besides his own Bowie knife. How odd would fate be, Lee thought, if he and Freddy came down to Bowie knives, and Freddy lost. Lee wouldn't let it get that close. With all the firepower he possessed, there would be no way Freddy would escape him once he found him.

And find him, he would.

Baker's Office – 2:45 p.m.

“This whole thing has been a mess from start to finish.”

Satchell and Dianne sat around her desk.

“How, Baker? You Did all you could from the beginning. The chain of events what as they were supposed to,” said Satchell.

“Plus,” said Dianne\, “we did somehow manage to save two lives.”

“We didn't save anyone. We were lucky. But we could have saved Lydia. We had that chance, but I blew it. I overlooked—no, I purposely struck down several possibilities because of a man's record and personal situation.

“Freddy said it in the fax. Braveheart’s fair maiden. You and I were at their house, Dianne; and we just let her go.”

“You couldn’t have known,” said Satchell. “Hell, a boy in a wheelchair? A lush for a mother? And a cop with an impeccable record? No one would have thought of looking their way.”

Dianne stood.

“At least part of this is over, The rest will be up to Jimmy and Blake.”

“And that is where it begins, too. Time is the only answer between them and how they deal with each other after losing Lydia.”

Baker looked at Satchell.

“At Least time doesn't discriminate. It treats us all equally.” Looking over to Dianne, she said, “Go ahead and go home, Dianne. I'm going to finish this report and then I'm out of here.”

“See you two on Monday. Have a good weekend. Oh, and Baker? For what it's worth; you're a hell of a good cop.”

Just as her door closed behind Dianne, Baker looked across at Satchell.

“Calling it a day?”

“In a few minutes. I have a call or two to make and a package in my desk to give two a … friend. After which, I'll take a trip over the weekend to the Apple. Haven’t been there in a while. Think I'll just walk around, spend a little money on the nightlife.”

“I don't know about the nightlife, but I know it's going to feel good to be home with a couple of guys that know how to make me smile and laugh. And after all this; Lord knows, I need it.”

Satchell stood and headed out the door saying, “Take care, Baker. See you Monday.”

“You too, Satchell.”

“One other thing. Dianne is right. You are a hell of a cop.”

Friday - August 10th

The Squad Room – 8:33 a.m.

“We are running out of time. Anyone have any ideas as to where our killer may be? Anyone?”

She looked around the room

Silence.

“There is something we're missing to all of this. Something that may be as obvious as the noses on our faces, something that could be so ordinary and we're just missing it. C’mon people\, think! What have you seen that isn't the way it should be?”

There was a stillness in the air before Damien Sorrenson spoke up.

“I don't know if this is anything or not, but my partner, Jack, stumble over a rapper from Taco’s Supreme. It was out there at Brewster's Gun Club. When he threw it in the trash, he noticed several more wrappers. Probably just kids hanging out; what with the place closed and all.”

Wrappers. Baker remembered.

“Anyone happen to know where the closest Billy Burger’s is?”

“Sure,” Jack Mallory said. “Same place as Taco’s Supreme. Palymera.”

“I found a bunch of wrapper’s there Wednesday, and now you two find taco wrappers. I don’t think kids would be out there two days in a row from Palymera. Doesn’t make sense to drive almost fifteen miles when they have better places to have a picnic or a party.”

Baker looked around the room.

“Devon and J.W., Mallory and Sorrenson, Lowery and Banyard, Clausen and Klugston, saddle up. We’re going to Brewster’s. Wear your flak-jackets and helmets.

“It’s now 8:46. I want all units approximately one-half mile away from the property by 9:15. Clinton and Davis? I want you at the entrance off Highway 60 to make sure no one other than us and emergency services go up that road.

“The rest of you run your routes. Be safe out there and keep our streets safe.”

She looked at Dianne.

“Come with me.”

She walked into Satchell’s office.

“Captain, you might want to get in your car and follow us to Brewster’s. I think we’ve found our potential killer.”

Satchell stood up, saying, “I’m right behind you.”

The wrapped package held in his hand, he put in his desk drawer.

Brewster’s Gun Club – 9:25 a.m.

“Mallory and Sorrenson, go around to the back side of the building, maintain your position there. Keep your radio, and this goes for all of you, to open channel 05, but keep it set on low.

“Devon and J.W., front side. Lowery and Banyard, left side, and Clausen and Klugston, right side.

“I’m going to try and talk whoever is in there into coming out without any possibility of someone getting injured or killed.

“Dianne, hand me the bull horn.”

“If nothing else,” said Satchell, “the bull horn will get their attention. Then we could call them on the phone.”

Baker nodded and brought the bull horn to her lips and flipped the on switch.

“This is to whoever is inside the building. This is the police. We have the building surrounded. There is no chance for escape. Step out of the building with your hands locked behind your head.”

Silence.

Every officer in position were at the ready. Each man held a riot gun at port arms, ready to be used. Like them, Baker, Satchell, and Dianne had the safeties off on their own weapons and like everyone else; they were counting the passing seconds.

No one came out.

Baker wondered if anyone was really inside, but she kept at it.

“I repeat. Step out of the building. Place your hands behind your head. There is no chance for escape. Do not take lives of those you love. I promise you, come out, and there will be no violent repercussions.”

They heard a scream, then a shot was fired. Every weapon was now trained on the building entrance to the range rooms.

In the back of the building, Mallory radioed Baker.

“I found an opening back here. It’s a small crawlspace, but I’m sure I can fit through it.”

“Take it, but listen, Mallory. Before you take out the primary, check the situation first. A shot has been fired but that doesn’t mean anyone’s been hurt. Relay back to me that you can see.”

“Roger that, Baker.”

Satchell handed Baker his cell.

“Phone’s ringing. Take it.”

Baker grabbed and listened to it ring eight more times before someone picked up the landline.

“Help us! Please!”

It was a young voice, probably a child. A boy.

“There—there is a gun against my head, and—and I, I, I’m supposed to say I de-deserve to die! But I don’t want to die! Help me!”

Baker shouted loudly as she could into the phone.

“Whoever you are, answer me! If you kill those people with you, you will never see the light of day again. You will spend the rest of your life in prison! Is that what you want? In prison, reliving this moment the rest of your life? Is it?”

Baker heard cackling laughter.

“That is funny, honey!” The phone disconnected.

Baker heard a female voice. On her radio, she heard Mallory.

“Baker, my view is so-so, but what I see is Jimmy Brewster, and he’s down. He’s either been shot or suffered a brutal blow to his head. I can see blood.

“I can see a woman holding two handguns. One looks to be a .45 semi-auto mag, and the other; not sure, but it might be a Lugar, vintage German style.”

“Okay, Mallory. Do you know if the woman is Jimmy’s wife, and can you see his son?”

“Never saw his wife before, and I can’t see the boy, but I can get a clean head or heart shot. Just say the word.”

“Hold, Mallory. Wait for my signal.”

She looked to Satchell and Dianne.

“It’s the Brewster’s. All three of them, I’m sure of it. Mallory did see Jimmy. Lydia is holding them hostage.”

“She’s been drinking for years, ever since Blake was born without legs. Now, she’s unstable. We have to stop her, Baker,” said Satchell.

“I know. Mallory says he has a clear shot, but I have to try once more to talk her down.”

She hit speed dial on Satchell’s cell. This time she got a response after the first ring.

“We all have to die. It’s the only way. I’m a terrible mother. Jimmy’s not a father, and Blake has been tortured by all of this. Don’t you see? It’s the only logical choice left. First is the man who helped me spawn my poor child. Then Blake, to end all his pain, suffering, and ridicule. Then me.

“Can’t you see? After that, we’ll be a real family, in heaven. It’s the only way!”

Baker could feel her anguish and listened to her voice as it was choked with a flood of tears.

“Lydia! Listen to me. If you kill Jimmy, you also kill a man who has been a friend to many people. You kill him, you kill a good and kind memory to many of us.

“And Blake. What about Blake? He’s made friends in school. He gets along in school with my son and his friends. My son, Stevie, has told me how funny, and how much fun it is to be around Blake at school. A lot of kids like him. You would be killing—no, forget that; you would be robbing him of his chance to choose and make a difference with his own life. It’s what every mother wants for their child. To see them grow and make their generation a little bit better than the one before.

“Don’t take that away from him, Lydia. As a mother, you gave him life. Only God has the right to take Blake from you and Jimmy. Just come outside and let’s talk. Let’s end all this.”

“Jimmy’s already dead.”

Baker jumped, a startled look on her face as she stared at the cell.

She hit the talk button on her radio.

“Mallory! Tell me you did not just fire! What happened?”

“Never saw this happen before, Baker. I swear!”

“Dammit! What? Talk to me!”

“She just put the .45 in her mouth and pulled the trigger.”

Brewster’s Gun Club – Two Hours Later

Carl and his F-team were all over the place . The County morgue wagon arrived, and after Carl checked over Lydia Brewster's body, he signed a release form where the ME would cite the obvious cause of death.

Two ambulances pulled in. One for Jimmy, the other, Blake.

“I loaded the van to spend a week at the Pocono’s. The van’s in the barn. Things were all right until after we got on 60. Lydia pulled a gun out of nowhere and started shouting orders at us.

“We came here. She had me carry Blake from the van to the range room. Then she threw handcuffs at me and had me handcuff Blake to one of metal legs. Then she smacked me in the head. When I came back around, I was cuffed to Blake's left hand with my right, and my left hand was cuffed to another metal leg.”

“Was, or did she give you any indication as to what and why with all of this?” asked Baker.

“Prior to keeping us locked down, nothing I can think of. I’d leave the house every day like clockwork, and she’d either be dead drunk, or almost there. Blake would comment sometimes she was passed out before he left for work.

“I know our marriage went to hell shortly after Blake was born, but I tried to keep us together. I guess I didn't try hard enough.” As a passing thought, he added, “The keys to the barn are in Lydia's pocket.”

One of the paramedics step forward saying they had to get Jimmy and Blake to the hospital.

Jimmy's head injury from the bullet, wasn't as bad as it first looked to Mallory. The bullet creased his scalp, but he would still have to have x-rays to make certain there wasn't any cranial damage.

As to Blake, the boy was traumatized by the events and would require several days in the hospital as well as professional counseling.

Driving back to the Twenty-Second, Dianne said, “Kind of amazing in a way, that Lydia could be so drunk and yet follow up on every riddle she ever wrote.”

“Dianne, it’s hard to tell which Lydia was doing that; the sober or the drunk one, but either way, she almost managed to do what she had planned. And now, it’s over.”

Lydia Brewster wouldn't be tormented any longer.