Ilcaz walked down the streets of Pennsylvania and suddenly, He sensed that somebody's following him so he stopped and observed for a while. When he looked back, He noticed a strange figure at the back of the huge tree. " who's there?" he said but nobody replied. He ran towards the armory and entered it for a very long time. He saw a lady nearby the counter wearing a wide smile. " what do you want sir?" the lady asked. " i need to talk to somebody" he replied. The lady was curios about him so she asked him once again. " and who's that somebody sir?" Ilcaz turned to her. " the owner of this armory" he replied annoyingly. Just as then, Rossini, the owner of the armory, approached them. He welcomed Ilcaz warmly and he even made him enter his room. "thank you for inviting me here" Ilcaz started. "well it's nothing my friend" Rossini replied." by the way, I'd like to choose the finest weapon I'm going to use in my mission" he explained. Rossini glanced at him. " no problem amigo... I'll give you the best of all.
They searched for the finest weapon Ilcaz gonna use in defeating his enemies until midnight but they found nothing. Rossini was afraid of vampires so he locked up all the doors in his armory and he requested Ilcaz to stay just for a night because according to him, it's too dangerous for him travel alone even if he's strong especially at night. Ilcaz was a little bit bored at that time so he tried to some things that are funny to entertain himself. Upon looking for some funny things, he found the only things that were hidden away from other people by Rossini. " well, golden spear, hatchet and gear... you make things like this?" Rossini was shocked to see his precious box opened. " never mind these things" he then snatched it off. " I'm sorry" Ilcaz said with sincerity. " it's alright, don't take it seriously. Ilcaz gave a good impression. " is dinner ready? it's almost 2am and we haven't take our dinner yet" Ilcaz added. " well, I'll just go down and see if Fesca's getting ready for our dinner. Rossini went downstairs and was out for a long time. " it's almost 2am but i Haven't sense strange aura in here or even outside the armory shop, however I'll keep my senses open. After several minutes, he heard a loud scream from downstairs and lights were cut off immediately and he went out of his room to check it. " as what I've expected, they followed me in here and the worst is, they've broke in." he murmured while searching for Rossini and Fesca. Vampires attacked him and he slew them all. Unluckily, he was bitten by a vampire which he had not noticed and it caused him to bleed. He got out of the armory and rode on a vehicle. On his way, another vampire flew at the top of the roof of the car he was riding and it began scratching the roof with all its might. Ilcaz clanged his gun and shot its head. Then it scattered around the streets. " he got away boss." Lyka said. Devian faced him and said " Don't worry, we'll catch him next time." both of them vanished into the still air. Ilcaz managed to go back to their headquarters in a few minutes but he lost his consciousness when he reached the cell. " he's totally bleeding and some symptoms of being a vampire now occurs." Coax said with concern. Just as then Myrrh and Pix came. " don't worry, we could same them...I mean him! Myrrh can't believe it with her two eyes. " bring him to the I.C.U!" she ordered.

(to be continued)

I was forced to do something I don't really wanna do. I can't avoid it no matter what I do. I'm always in need and there's nobody can help me... because nobody would believe every time I try to tell them what's happening. 'til darkness finally swallowed me and now, I can't get out in my miserable life and I found myself lying on the ground feeling so much pain and emptiness inside, the pain is like an open wound with an arrow in it... no, it's more than that I think. Bandit as what they call me but deep inside my heart and soul, I've been looking for an answer for the million question that lied ahead of my body when I fell on the ground. I tried to move but I just can't, gradually I lost my consciousness and when I woke up, I was in a very peaceful place where everything was nice. There, somebody asked me if I want to go back or I'll stay to where I'm standing. He showed all the options but I have only chosen one out of all them. I was brought to life after death and I believe that there's a purpose for my return.
I'm Ilcaz from the land of vampires, Pennsylvania. I was reborn and I'm not the ordinary man whom they knew for years... technology had changed me a lot truly and programmed me to save people and disperse evil. This is my story, heed me for I know that you're all mine...

to be continued(intro.)

Chapter 14

It was one month later and Debra had long since gone home, but she kept in touch on a regular basis—especially with Baylor Sims. Mose and the others called frequently to gather any news updates. Paul and Barbara were beginning to wonder if they would hear of any further developments, as well. Nothing changed until one evening when Denise answered the telephone to find an excited Baylor Sims on the other end.

“Denise, will you and Ron be home for awhile tonight? I have some news for you.”

“Uh…yes. What’s up? Is something wrong, Baylor?” She had that familiar twinge of dread starting again.

“No, dear girl. Not at all. In fact, call your friends to come over. This is something you will all want to celebrate.”

“I’m not sure I know what to say.”

“Just say you’ll be home. I’ll be right over.” He hung up just as quickly.

“Who was that? Is something wrong, dear?” Ron saw the questioning look on her face and he, too, had a sharp twinge arise within him.

“That was Baylor. I asked him the same thing and he said he’d be right over to tell us some news. From the sound of things, I hope that something is very right.”

Ron appeared pensive and raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders slightly.

It was twenty-five minutes before Baylor arrived. He knocked twice before Ron could cross the front room and answer the door. His hand was cocked back and ready to do so again when the door was opened for him. Baylor Sims appeared as if he were barely able to contain himself, bouncing up and down on the doorstep until he was ushered in.

“Oh, Ron, you are going to be so excited! Guess what has happened?”

“What? How could I possibly know?”

“Oh, come on, man! Try to guess.” He was like a kid with a new toy concealed behind his back, so anxious to show it off to a friend, but loathe to be hurrying and spoil the surprise.

“Ron took a deep breath and blew it out noisily in a somewhat perplexed fashion. “Well…uh…someone from the court called you?” There was hope in his eyes as the thought formed in his mind and the words took shape on his lips.

Baylor was nearly ecstatic. “Yes, yes! Go on!”

“Go on? It’s your story, Baylor. I’m just trying to figure it out!”

“What? Oh, yes, of course. Yes, I got a call and you have been exonerated fully! It seems that a certain judge stepped quietly down from the bench and handed it all over to another judge and asked that he set things right with you!”

Ron looked as if he’d been struck physically and Denise had by this time hovered at his shoulder long enough to want the story more fleshed out. “What did they say? Details, Baylor, details!” She was too excited to be patient.

“Forgive me, Denise, I know what you’ve been through and I certainly don’t intend to drag this out for you any longer than needed. I know how I would feel….”

“Baylor!” both exclaimed in unison.

“Oh, yes…sorry. The investigation is over and you’re both cleared.” That was the long and the short of it. Baylor stood almost breathless.

“Denise, it’s finally over.” Ron took her by both shoulders and stared at her deeply before pulling her to him and holding her tightly. She felt limp, as if she might fall were he to let go of her. Ron shuffled her to the nearest seat and eased her down, sitting beside her to steady her.

Baylor stepped in, looking repentant and humbled. “I am so sorry to upset you like this. I just wanted you to know it’s really over. You can get on with your lives now. You’re free.” He raised his open palms to his sides in a gesture that accentuated the last words.

“It’s okay, Baylor. I’ll be fine.” Denise sounded small and weak.

“I think she’s been running on adrenaline so long that when the news finally comes, the let-down is quite a shock to the system. To tell you the truth, I feel a bit puny myself.”

“Yes, of course. I understand. Well, you get some rest, Denise. You’ve more than earned it, I dare say. Ron, might I speak to you alone for a moment?”

“Give me a minute to take Denise to our room, if you don’t mind.”

Upon returning, Baylor spoke in hushed tones, as if he wanted to ensure that no one else could hear. He even looked around before he spoke. “This whole thing has been amazing, Ron. I’ve waited years for all the pieces to fall into place like this and now that they have, I’m somewhat stunned, too. Anyway, I appreciate what you and Denise …and all your friends have done for me. You’ve all made it possible a degree of justice in the matter of Judge Hallowell. As you may know, I’ve had a private axe to grind in the matter. He destroyed my parents, all to preserve a false pride and the appearance of honor on his part. You have helped me put things right. He has finally received his punishment.”

“It’s okay, Baylor. Whatever we did was probably insignificant. We appreciate what you did for us. We can breathe again, thanks to you.”

“Enough with the modesty, my dear man. You have accomplished far more here than you realize. Hallowell didn’t just step down and save us the trouble of his future presence on the bench. No, he stepped down and almost immediately disappeared.” He waited for the words and their significance to sink in, watching Ron’s expression closely.

“What do you mean by that?” His puzzlement was perfectly clear.

“Just what I said—disappeared, gone, vanished into thin air as smoke from the fire. He’s missing without a trace and has been for over three weeks now. According to the police, there is little, if anything, missing from his home. It’s as if he walked out empty-handed and never returned.” Again he waited for the effect of his words.

“But…why would he do that, Baylor? Doesn’t he have friends and family that will be looking for him?”

“No, not really. He never married; I guess he thought it beneath him. Also, it appears that efforts to contact any relatives are extremely difficult and nearly useless, at best. For all intent and purposes the man was entirely alone. Sad, but it shouldn’t surprise me.”

“Then why are you so shook up?”

“Because no one just walks out of their home like that, dear fellow. Taking nothing, leaving no note and vanishing so effectively for so long—these things are just not done. Hallowell was no wilderness survival type. He didn’t take his car! None of the hotels, airports, bus stations or hospitals has seen a trace of him. The cab companies never picked him up, either. Now are you starting to get the full picture?”

“I’m not sure it’s the full picture, but it just got a lot bigger.” His eyes were also getting much larger as he started to comprehend the magnitude of this new information. “What do you think happened?”

“Me? I can’t be certain, but if I were to guess, I would say that he had assistance. This is more like a witness protection program than a missing persons case.”

Suddenly aware that his mouth had dropped open, Ron took Baylor by the arm, opened the door, pulled him out onto the front porch and closed the door behind them, seemingly all in one fluid motion. Sims was almost disoriented by the swiftness of the movement.

“Do you know what you’re saying, Baylor?”

“Yes, I think it all speaks for itself, Ron, without any effort on my part.”

“Are you implying conspiracy?”

“If I were to choose a word, that would be it—yes.” There was not the least particle of hesitation or doubt in his statement. “It’s known in some circles that many judges—well, men in all areas of power and influence—have been members of secret societies. I am relatively certain that I have been approached tentatively a time or two myself.

“You’re creeping me out, Baylor. I don’t like where this is going.”

“If you’re ‘creeped out’, as you put it, then you are more astute than most. I’m not implying that you and Denise have to fear any phantoms now, but just that I think he will rise up somewhere else, far away from here, in a cushy position with good pay and short hours, all with a new identity and a contrived past. Can I prove it? Not a chance.”

Ron sighed heavily. “I’m not going to tell my wife any of this.”

“That’s as it should be and why I drew you aside to talk of it. Get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow we’ll celebrate. This time you can invite me to dinner. Oh…when will Debra be visiting again?” His eyes brightened noticeably as he asked.

Ron chuckled and sighed again, this time with a sense of humor. “You’re welcome for dinner any time, Baylor, but I’ll see what I can do about getting you a date. A little bird told me that Debra thinks you are kind of cute.”

“Oh…really? Well…I’ll be anxious to hear from you.”

“Thanks, Baylor. You’ve been one heck of a soldier to have in my foxhole.”

Sims broke character for a moment and responded with deep gratitude, “That’s one heck of a compliment coming from a man like you, Ron. Thank you.”

They pressed hands affectionately and grasped arms in an unspoken brotherhood of silent appreciation. A quick clap on the arm from Ron and Baylor went his way and drove off into the darkness.

Ron thought for a few moments in this brief isolation and then went into the house and locked the doors. It was astounding how much could happen in so little time and change two people’s lives so drastically.

Entering the bedroom, Ron paused to admire the woman who had come to be the center of his life. Because of her he had a wife, new friends and a completely different outlook on life—he knew that life was too short to worry needlessly. This was his fair maiden, the fairest of all, and he would want to be her knight in shining armor forevermore.

Chapter 13

Debra woke them the next morning with a knock on the door. “Okay, you two love birds; time to get up. I have fresh grapefruit for you. Come and get it.”

Each of them smiled at the other and kissed tenderly, feeling their still-naked bodies touching beneath the sheet.

“I want you again,” Denise whispered.

“How convenient. I want you, too, but what will your mother say?”

“Who cares? Let her get her own man.”

Ron couldn’t help but laugh at the quick wit his wife displayed so early in the morning. Denise also laughed because he was so delighted and pulled him closer.

Outside the door, Debra heard the giggles, smiled and turned away toward the kitchen table. She was content. This morning she would happily eat alone.

All were gathered together at the home of Baylor Sims and the festivities were about to begin in earnest. Sims had arranged for a caterer to serve them and the food was simply tremendous.

“This is going to cost us a fortune,” Ron remarked.

“No, I said it was my treat and I meant it,” Sims replied.

“Well, then be prepared to lose every cent you just made off us.”

“That is my second treat, Ron. No charge.”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“I can and I am. You did me a tremendous favor. By ‘you’, I mean all of you. You allowed me to rectify a problem that had been plaguing me for years. I was able to settle an old score with your help.”

Ron knew now, with a certainty, that Hallowell had been the cause of Sims’ concerns all these years. Revenge was finally his and he had done so in honor of his parents. This was something that they could all feel good about. Justice had been delayed, but justice had been served.

Baylor continued, “You simply cannot imagine how good that felt to me, Ron.”

Ron reflected back on his visit with the insurance company representative and thought distinctly that maybe he could understand how good it could feel, though he had not waited nearly as long as Sims for satisfaction in that matter. “I am happy for you, Baylor. You did me a great service and if I was of some help in return, then I guess it was all worth it. Not that I would want to do it again, mind you, for any amount of good.” He grinned at Sims and made a face registering horrific disgust.

“Well, I expect to hear very soon that the ‘Honorable Judge Hallowell” has decided to retire from the bench.”

“Are you serious? Why would he do that?” His surprise was more than mild. “And come to think of it, you have yet to explain what that stunt was that you three pulled off yesterday in court. I think it is high time you start talking, don’t you?”

“Fair enough. First let me explain why I think Hallowell will retire from the bench. He will have to or risk the chance of public humiliation and pressure to have him forcibly removed by law. If he retires voluntarily he gets to keep his pension and a degree of respect in the eyes of some of the public, regardless of whether he has earned it or not. Those who don’t know him as well as we do will think he has served honorably.”

“As well as ‘we?’ You have yet to tell me anything to help me put the pieces together, Baylor. Come on—‘fess up, man!”

“Yes, yes. The time has come. Here it is. Debra knew I wanted to settle an old score with Hallowell. She also knew you had some army friends who were very good at getting the ammunition…er, information…necessary to do the job. Jonathan got me all I wanted and far more.” Sims’ smile was enough to light the room.

“You mean Hallowell was crooked?”

“…as a dog’s hind leg,” Bill laughed. He had been listening in at Ron’s shoulder.

“Mose helped a lot, telling me what to look for. So did Mr. Sims,” Jonathan chimed in. Ron now noticed that the group had gathered closer to hear the explanation.

“Call me Baylor, Jonathan. You’ve earned the right.”

“Okay, Baylor—thanks.”

“Wait, wait! Does everyone but me know all the details, then?” Ron pressed insistently.

“Well, not just you, but danged close. You were under a lotta pressure an’ we wanted to save you goin’ through that again. B’sides, you were a near wreck las’time. We weren’t sure you’d be much help to us.” Bill was apologetic, but Ron knew he was likely correct in his assumptions.

“Okay, I understand. But will someone tell me why Debra was dressed in all those old clothes and her hair was done that way? And why would that scare the tar out of Hallowell?”

“Don’cha mean the ‘hell outta ‘Hell’owell?” Bill had a silly grin he couldn’t hide.

“Well said, Bill. More true than you know, I’m afraid.” Sims was entirely deadpan and serious.

“Uh…huh?” Bill did a verbal double take and waited for an answer.

“He had all the ear markings of a Satanist, for one thing. Not sure we could link him to it entirely, but maybe with a lot more investigation.” Mose offered.

Baylor nodded his head, but hastened to add, “I don’t think anything more will be needed to convince him to retire permanently, gentlemen.”

“Anyway, about Debra and the clothing…and Hallowell’s fright?” Ron cajoled and prodded a reminder into the forum. He was getting impatient and it was apparent that Denise was ready to hear an answer to the riddle as well. She was completely intent on what the various speakers had to offer.

Jonathan now interrupted and took charge of the explanation. “Alright. Enough delay. You deserve the entire story. One of the things we found against Hallowell was the record of a rape case many years ago while he was still in law school. All the details were there and Hallowell was strongly implicated, but was never found guilty. It appears he had strings pulled for him.”

“Yanked is more like it.” Mose was fed up just thinking about it.

Baylor jumped in again. “All we had to do was place a powerful visual stimulant in front of him while he was already in a highly charged emotional state and voila’! The reminder alone pushed him over the edge.”

So Debra was dressed as the woman in the records?”

“Yes, that’s it in a nutshell.” Sims had a smile of deep satisfaction. “It worked brilliantly. Better than I had hoped.”

“Better than you hoped? You had me scared to death. I thought you had lost your mind! And now you tell me it worked better than you hoped?” Denise just shook her head.

“My dear woman, it was absolutely paramount that I go through with it in the manner we had planned. There was nothing else we could do but force his hand. I do apologize. I know how it must have appeared, but there was simply no other way that we could think of to accomplish the task.” Sims was sincere in his apologies, but just as sincere in his convictions that there was no other method to have considered. “Judge Hallowell was force-fed so many things that he had thought to be completely and forever buried. Then, the Grand Finale—Debra coming in dressed as the rape victim herself. He just lost it. And best of all, he lost control in front of so many people, including the County Prosecutor, who must by now think him to be totally insane.”

Debra had been quiet through all of the conversation thus far, but now joined in with her contribution. “I’m sure that by now he is wondering how soon it will be until word gets out to the public. He can’t help but worry about that. Plus, he knows we still have the papers that he left on his bench while he was in such a frantic fury to get away from me. He has no idea where we could have dug up so much dirt on him—and best of all, if there was that much, there was probably more. He has to be wondering when it will rear its ugly little head, I would venture to guess. He must be terrified—and rightly so. It’s finally his turn to be on the receiving end for once.”

“But how is that alone going to force him to retire? All of that is past and he could fight it for a long time in the courts, couldn’t he? And couldn’t he simply hand me over to the next judge?” Ron was just being realistic, but Denise gasped audibly. He was causing her faith to waiver along with his own.

“Listen, Ron, there was far more going on here than you may realize. There were so many violations in his courtroom alone that most people would never suspect. A competent and well-informed jury could have convicted him of constructive treason at any time, for his violations of the Constitution alone. What atrocities were happening right under all their noses everyday, you would shudder to think.”

“Sorry, you lost me.”

“Along with most other Americans, I’m afraid. Tha’s why we had to go another route. I will explain the other possible routes at another time, if you like, but trust me for now that I chose the right one for you and Denise.”

“Okay, Baylor. Time will tell. Forgive me for not being ready to believe it’s truly over yet. After all that we’ve been through, I keep waiting for the other shoe to fall—call it conditioning, if you will.”

“Pavlovian response.” Baylor nodded his head.

Bill simply said, “Huh?”

“Like a dog drooling when he hears a bell,” Mose responded.

“What?!” Bill was more confused than ever.

“Like a dog drooling over a steak? Is that better?” Jonathan offered.

“Lots better than a dog wantin’ to eat a bell, I reckon.” Bill shook his head in disbelief at Mose, who started to respond and came up short in a ‘why bother’ attitude. The others simply chuckled at this little interplay.

“Ron, rehashing all of this isn’t why you are here today, is it? Let’s have some fun and forget about all of this, shall we?” Sims turned to the group and asked, “Alright, who knows a good joke?”

Denise piped up, “I do!”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Ron came back immediately, laughing and finally able to begin relaxing. He quickly added, “Between the two of us, though, we might be able to beat these folks into some semblance of submission.” He winked at Denise and saw her roll her eyes.

“Well, if you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bull,” Paul added. It got him a few snickers and a well-delivered elbow from Barbara, followed by a now full-bodied laugh from the rest of the group. “Ow! Go easy, will you?”

The party broke up around 9 P.M. when Barbara quietly took a moment aside to ask Sims a question of great concern for her.

“Tell me the truth, Baylor; this isn’t really over yet, is it?”

“My dear woman, I want you to know that I never lie. I have often kept the truth hidden until it was most useful to my purposes, but I do not lie.”

“A lawyer who never lies? Is there such a thing?” She grinned mischievously and he had to admire her wit and her candor.

“You still don’t know me well and with the general reputation that most attorneys have, I can well understand why you would find such a thing to be rare at best. But, then, you’ll just have to be patient and watch me, won’t you?” His smile was infectious and Barbara felt he could quite possibly be the most pleasant and cheerful man she had ever met. Certainly he was the most pleasant lawyer. She wondered if that qualified as a contradiction in terms.

“I’m not asking for me, Baylor. I love these two a lot more than you know and it would kill me to see them go through much more of this hell. They don’t deserve it, that’s all.” She looked deeply into his eyes and her gaze begged him to promise her a happy ending.

“You must know that there are no guarantees in life, dear girl; and you tend to get surprises when you least expect them, but I assure you I’ve never been more certain of anything than I am right now.” His words were a healing balm to her and she hugged him unexpectedly and thanked him several times before she turned him loose again.

“You’re welcome, Barbara—and thank you! Now, before your husband gets jealous, you’d better go. He’s waiting for you.”

She laughed softly, as did he, and the evening’s festivities were now over. He suspected they would all meet again. At least he hoped so. These people were the salt of the earth. He turned toward the one remaining straggler. “And now, Debra…with all of our scheming and conniving over, I feel lost. How about you?”

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Baylor. What trouble do you think we could get into to make up for our sense of loss?”

“Mom!” Denise had just stuck her head in again to hurry Debra to the car.

“Oh, never you mind, dear! I’m old enough to know what I’m doing.”

“If you don’t mind terribly, I will be happy to bring her home later, Denise.” Baylor had somewhat of a sad puppy look, far from the gleam he usually bore.

“Well…okay, but have her home by midnight,” Denise said rather sternly for a daughter.

“Hrmph! Well, I never….” Debra feigned upset. “You did say, ‘let her get her own man’, didn’t you?” Her hands were on her hips in firm resolve and gentle defiance and her face bore a ‘gotcha’ expression.

Denise was now the one to register genuine surprise, having until now been unaware that her mother had heard them through the bedroom door this morning. She was speechless for an uncomfortably long time and in the confusion, Sims sought to come to her rescue—to their rescue.

“I assure you, she will be in the best of hands…” Ever the proper gentleman and acutely aware of how his statement might be construed a double entendre, he stopped and regrouped, beginning to blush slightly. “I mean, in good company…she’ll be well looked after.” He looked as if he were about to start sweating profusely at any moment.

“Better quit while you still can, Mr. Sims. Alright, have fun, you two—but behave yourselves.” She still shot her mother a look that denoted a sense of impropriety, but she left them alone.

“Now, where were we?” Debra recovered immediately and Baylor tried to follow suit.

“Pulling my foot from my mouth, I believe.” He chuckled nervously. “I am glad to have you alone, though. I find you an intriguing and charming woman, Debra.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, my good man.” She smiled slyly and hooked her arm in his and led him to the porch swing.

“Ron, I simply don’t know what to do with my mother. I just might die of embarrassment. I thought she would be coming home with us, but she’s decided to stay with Mr. Sims.”

“Well, you did say, ‘let her get her own man’, didn’t you?” He spoke in the same inflections that she had used just this morning and thought she would see the humor of it. Met with her icy stare, his spontaneous grin disappeared just as quickly as it had sprung upon him and he turned to give full attention to his driving duties until she warmed up again.

Chapter 12

The day had finally come for what Debra had incessantly been referring to as ‘the final showdown’. Ron and Denise were noticeably high-strung. It was hard to breathe and each lungful was shallow and labored. The climb of the courthouse steps was a tremendous feat, seemingly insurmountable, and for all the world it felt as though they were marching to their fate on death row. So engrossed in their own thoughts were they that both were startled to find Barbara and Paul standing beside them in the entry chamber.

Paul extended an arm to Ron, placing a firm hand upon his shoulder to reassure him. "Stiff upper lip, old man--as the British would say. You know we're with you all the way."

"Today I feel old, Paul. My feet won't move." You may have to carry me. He tried to force a smile, but couldn't get his facial muscles to respond.

Barbara just took Denise by the arm and stood with her silently, giving sympathetic looks and unspoken subliminal support as needed. There was no need for words between these two.

From down the hall Sims appeared and approached them quickly, a smile of confidence on his face. His outstretched hand shook each of theirs in succession. "Mr. and Mrs. Jameson, today is a great day in your lives. Today you will be free to start over in peace and quiet. Smile and enjoy." He gave Ron a mild slap on the back to emphasize the point.

"I wish I had your confidence, Mr. Sims." Ron was looking weak and shaken. For all his talk about fighting this one to the hilt, he now was afraid he would not have the strength to even lift the sword to do a deed he knew need be done decisively.

"You will, Ron. You will." He spoke the words sincerely, even affectionately and with great sympathy and Ron had no doubt that he meant them. Ron felt to instinctively trust Sims and nodded his assent. Some small degree of confidence began to return, for which he was immensely grateful. Sims now shuffled them off down the hall toward their final goal--freedom.

As they were about to enter the assigned courtroom, Denise suddenly stopped, looking around desperately. "Where is Mom? I need her here." She looked like a frightened little girl in dire need of parental consolation. Puzzled, Ron also began to search for Debra.

"Don't worry, now" Sims interrupted. "She'll be here when needed, I assure you, but not a moment before that. Will you trust me?" Baylor's eyes calmly pleaded with them to have faith and let him do what was required, but things never seemed to go as designed in their lives lately. It was difficult to dredge up even the remotest remnants of faith anymore. Sims waited for their reply. Ron nodded, but Denise was slow to respond, fighting back the doubts she was filled with. After what seemed an interminably long time she finally nodded in a 'what other choice is there' manner and slowly followed Sims into the courtroom.

The first point of focus was naturally the bench where the judge would soon preside. The seat was currently empty. Three men were already seated near the front of the room. Ron thought how very familiar they looked to him, but it was not until they turned around to see who had just entered that his suspicions were verified. The three were Bill, Mose and Hunter. Bill and Mose were the closest thing he had to brothers and had served with him in military duties several years before. Hunter was his only cousin and closest childhood playmate. Huge smiles adorned all the faces of these men. Ron thought how much in contrast he must look, with the stress-worn image and weary frame he now presented. No judge or jury in the country would ever be impressed with him, he knew.

The only one missing from this group was Jonathan, or Jon-Jon as they called him. He, too, was an old service buddy--another brother, really, in the dearest sense. Ron was buoyed up by the presence of these men. They had been such a strength and support to him recently in his misadventures with Ted Randall and had done all and more than most men would ever have done to help save Denise from that madman.

There were a few moments to exchanged greetings and respect and then the court Bailiff entered the room. Ron now noticed for the first time that the County Prosecutor was there, having quietly seated himself while the men were renewing their friendships. The Prosecutor was rising in anticipation of the Bailiff's announcement, which now came without hesitation.

"All rise for the honorable Judge Hallowell. This hearing is now in session." the Bailiff announced. The judge entered and was seated before all others were then invited to sit. It had begun.

Hallowell took and inordinate length of time to look over the papers he had before him, prior to acknowledgement of others in the room. Ron wondered that he had not taken time previously to study them in preparation. When Judge Hallowell did look up, he looked directly at Ron for an uncomfortably long time.

"Mr. Jameson, I wish to remind you that you are not on trial yet."

The choice of words was strange to Ron. Why would he say 'yet'?

"This is a preliminary hearing, where we will determine the need for a proper trial."

Again, a strange choice of words--he had slightly emphasized 'yet' and 'need'. The way he stared at Ron gave cause for concern. It was as if he had already decided their fate, a foregone conclusion in his own mind, and this hearing was simply a formality, a 'going through the motions' to make it all appear legitimate. Ron and Denise both looked to Sims for some small degree of hope and comfort, but Sims was seemingly laser-focused on the judge, his countenance grim and serious. Ron swallowed hard, trying not to be heard as he did so.

The judge continued, "Now, I believe in cutting to the chase. I hope you do, too."

Ron was not certain whether he was expected to speak, but he was beaten to the punch by Sims and held his peace. "Your Honor, my client is prepared to be cooperative in any examination you may wish." The inflection on 'examination' was subtle, but noted.

Of all present in the courtroom, Hallowell alone acted with indifference to Sims, making no notice of him, either verbally or visually. Ron sensed that there might very well be bad blood between them and his misgivings about the hearing returned with a vengeance. Was this the judge that had played such a foul role in the lives of Baylor Sim's parents years ago? Hallowell was indeed old enough that he could easily have been involved in the troubles regarding the faults of the justice system that Sims had witnessed firsthand. If there were contentions here, was this hearing destined to be no more than a grudge match between Sims and Hallowell? A sick feeling suddenly dropped into the pit of Ron's stomach and he looked at Denise, who was also ashen in appearance. Why do I feel like we are to be the lab rats here, Ron wondered.

Through several more exchanges Hallowell addressed Ron, with Sims answering for him each time and with each answer Sims was virtually ignored by Hallowell. Even the County Prosecutor was noticeably puzzled by the behavior he was witnessing.

At this point the door in the rear of the courtroom opened noisily and Ron turned to see Jonathan grinning from ear to ear and carrying a large stack of papers. He came directly to Sims and laid them on the table in front of him. Before he sat down he gave Ron a thumbs up sign. Something was going on here that Ron was not privy to yet, but he had little choice except to be quiet and patient until he knew.

Judge Hallowell eyed the stack of papers suspiciously and for the first time looked at Baylor Sims long enough to acknowledge awareness of his presence. It was not a friendly look by any stretch of the imagination. Sims chuckled quietly to himself as he began to organize the stack of papers before him. Ron noticed the furtive glances Hallowell made--first at the papers and then at Sims and away again, repeating this several times while trying to look nonchalant. There was, however, a sense of concern on Hallowell's part and he seemed to get slightly more irritable from that point on.

"Mr. Jameson, the nature of the charges being considered against you is quite serious. The evidence against you is quite convincing, I must say." He pulled from the pile of papers on his desk an envelope and letter he had been studying, which he now held aloft for effect, as if it were the grand key to the whole deal. He shifted his gaze toward Sims and locked eyes with him, but Baylor did not flinch, which seemed to only annoy Hallowell all the more. "Counselor, I have here a letter in the handwriting of one Theodore M. Randall. It was found in his apartment after his death. It seems the first search of his residence overlooked it, but here it is now and that is what counts."

Ron looked at Sims and Denise looked at Ron. Only Sims seemed unflustered.

"Counselor, this letter voices a concern expressed by Mr. Randall that he is targeted for death by someone who hates him."

Sims narrowed his eyes only by the slightest amount, barely noted even by Ron, who sat next to him. What was going through his mind could only be guessed at, but the wait was not long. "And what is the nature of the letter, your Honor? Does Mr. Randall suggest that the former Denise Payton is the one who wants to kill him? A defenseless woman?"

"Exactly, Mr. Sims." This time Hallowell addressed him without including the respect of the title 'Counselor'. Things were about to escalate and Ron did not welcome the new direction this was taking. "It mentions..." and he shifted his gaze toward Ron, "your wife specifically, Mr. Jameson." His gaze was steely and cold, causing Denise to shiver.

Ron leaned quickly toward Sims and whispered into his ear. "This is bogus, Baylor. Ted must have written it to somehow punish Denise. He was just that warped--you know that!"

Sims took hold of Ron with a firm hand. "Calm down. I know this is bogus. Things are much better than you think."

The judge now had the hint of a smirk on his face, but Sims pressed on. "Your Honor, what is the date on the letter, if I might ask?"

"There is no date." He looked unconcerned by the request.

"Then, your Honor, there is no reliable method by which we might establish the age of this letter. Or even whether it be in Mr. Randall's handwriting, perhaps."

"That remains to be seen now, doesn't it?" The smirk was still there, tinged with a generous degree of impatience. His voice was somewhat elevated in tone and volume, denoting his swing in mood.

"Yes, your Honor, I guess so." Sims remained unmoved by this display of hostility and began to conspicuously finger the papers in front of him on the desk. Judge Hallowell shifted his focus yet again, from Sims to the papers and back several times. He resituated himself in his seat and seemed even more annoyed.

"Your Honor, does this letter, purported to have been penned by Mr. Randall, mention specifically that the former Denise Payton intended to kill Mr. Randall? Does it mention that she hired anyone to do the job? Or does it even suggest that she ever threatened him while in the heat of anger?" Sims appeared as pleasant as if he were speaking to a beloved family member, which seemed to irk Hallowell all the more.

"What it says or doesn't say will come out in the trial, Mr. Sims. You will then have a copy of it for yourself." He fairly spat the words.

"If there is a trial, your Honor. That is what is yet to be decided, am I not correct?"

All were registering surprise that Sims would attempt what appeared to be the blatant aggravation of Hallowell. The County Prosecutor showed no less shock than the others. Again Sims fiddled with the papers he held in his possession. This time Hallowell took the bait.

"Do you have anything to offer as evidence to the contrary, Mr. Sims?" He leaned forward on his elbows and stared down as if sentence had already been passed.

Sims knew the time had arrived to set the hook and did so without hesitation. "Are you certain you want all of this now, your Honor? There is a lot here."

The facade of impatience grew again by another step, but Hallowell replied in a controlled manner. "I am greatly curious to see what you could possibly offer as evidence that would cause me to reconsider for one moment setting a date for trial." The County Prosecutor now began to fidget nervously and involuntarily dropped his pencil. He started to go after it and reconsidered, biting his lip and remaining still in his seat.

There. Hallowell had asked for it in so many words and he was about to get it in so many more than he would end up wanting. The bait was taken, the hook set and there was nothing yet but to reel him in. Sims pretended a look of quiet surrender and looked at the Bailiff, who turned to the judge for confirmation. It was immediately forthcoming.

"Bailiff, please bring me the papers Mr. Sims has before him." Again, not even the courtesy of the title Counselor.

Sims suppressed a smile that he so much wanted to let burst forth into actual laughter. Too early and you kill the deal. Patience, Baylor. Patience.

As Hallowell began to leaf through the papers, his color turned redder by the moment and with each page he perused. His rage was building and Ron and Denise looked at Sims as if to question whether he had lost his mind. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Ron whispered. Sims gave them both a 'wait for it' look and turned again to study Hallowell intently. He then grabbed his cell phone and punched a speed dial number and disconnected almost as quickly.

The courtroom was pin-drop quiet, awestruck by the turn of events, but a single and subtle ring of a cell phone had been heard in the hallway. It stopped just as the judge looked directly at Sims and appeared about to burst. With his mouth open and prepared to vent all his fury, Hallowell suddenly turned his attention to the door at the back of the courtroom and to the figure that had now burst noisily through the door. Judge Hallowell appeared as if he were about to order her to sit, when just as suddenly the rage turned to a stunned silence and the blood that had engorged his face now drained rapidly to leave him a ghostly white. He looked as if he had been shot through the heart and could not comprehend it. All eyes turned to follow his own. In the doorway stood Debra Payton, but a different Debra Payton than anyone who knew her was used to seeing.

Hallowell inhaled audibly and involuntarily aspirated saliva, setting him into coughing violently, adding to his embarrassment and discomfiture. The Bailiff ran to get him some water, but was as quickly followed by Judge Hallowell in his hurry to exit the courtroom as swiftly as possible.

"What just happened?" Denise asked insistently.

"Be patient and you'll soon see," Sims answered and motioned for Debra to come sit with them. Again Ron studied her. All eyes were drawn to her instinctively and involuntarily. Her clothing and hairstyle were at least thirty years out of date and she looked highly amused at the turn of events.

"Would someone please tell me what just happened here?" Denise repeated more insistently. "Mom, what is this all about?"

"Just wait, dear. Unless I miss my guess, you won't have long to wait." She smiled as muffled hollering could be heard coming from the direction of the door to the judge's chambers.

"Just wait...just wait...be patient! Argh! Wait for what?" Denise was anything but patient and Ron was still too stunned to know what to ask and of whom.

"You'll see, Mrs. Jameson. You'll see." Sims eyes were glued to the door of the judges' chambers and he did not have long to wait for what he expected. "Here it comes...."

Ron and Denise were shaking their heads in combined frustration as the Bailiff re-entered the room. All were about to rise for the judge when the Bailiff, looking shaken and confused, announced, "This hearing is now concluded due to illness on the part of Judge Hallowell. The charges will not be pursued at this time. All are free to go."

Debra, Baylor Sims and Jonathan were nearly jumping up and down in their excitement, hugging one another and laughing aloud while others just stood in mute shock and wondering what they had missed. The County Prosecutor was scratching his head and attempting to solve this unexpected puzzle just thrown at him.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant, both of you!" Sims was nearly overcome with his admiration for Debra and Jon-Jon, but no one yet knew why. "Come on, everybody; let's get out of here and go celebrate!" His voice was more boisterous than usual and plainly, he could scarcely contain himself for his joy. He gathered all the papers that the judge had left on the bench and quickly vacated the room before anyone might wish to stop him from doing so. The rest of the party followed suit.

The County Prosecutor was now in hot pursuit of Sims and caught up with him just before he got to the front door of the courthouse. "Sims! Hang on, man! What happened in there? Anyone can see that you scared the daylights out of Hallowell, but what's in those papers?"

"Well, Counselor...that remains to be seen, now doesn't it?" He laughed as he parroted back Judge Hallowell's words and turned again to scurry from the building. The County Prosecutor just glanced from one to another of the party, in hopes one would volunteer an answer, but most of the party could only look back helplessly or shrug their shoulders in common display of their ignorance. When all had left, the man stood there alone and still in a daze.

Outside, Baylor Sims waited for all to gather and addressed them as a group. "I want to invite all of you to a celebration party at my home tomorrow at noon. Do not eat a big breakfast--lunch is on me." Turning now to Ron and Denise, Sims said simply, "Congratulations, you are now free!"

"Free? Hallowell said nothing of the sort," Denise chided.

Ron, with some annoyance, added, "Until he says so, how can you think we are free? He only said 'it will not be pursued at this time.'"

Baylor Sims now put an arm around them both as friends or even as would a father. His affection and reassurance were genuine. "You have my word that it is over and that you've won a great victory here today. And you helped me to win a great victory, too. One I've been waiting for many years to win. I am truly grateful to you both." He squeezed them affectionately and then called back as he turned to leave, "Remember--my house at noon tomorrow. Come hungry! Oh, you four men--" He addressed Mose, Bill, Hunter and Jonathan. "You are welcome to come stay at my place for as long as our party may last. Jonathan knows the way. What do you say?" With hearty affirmatives in response, he winked and was gone.

"Mom, I'm more confused than ever."

"Just wait one more day and you will know everything. You've been through hell the last few months and now that it really is over, do you want to unnecessarily punish yourself further?" Debra asked.

The couple simmered for a short time and then acquiesced. Denise spoke their feelings. "Okay, Mom, you win. What's one more day? The way I feel, I'm not sure I would comprehend it anyway." Ron nodded his agreement.

Ron thanked everyone for being there to support them, paying particular attention to how surprising it was to see his old army buddies again so soon. “You men are family to me and I'm deeply touched by your unselfish generosity.” The tear in his aye attested to the sentiment of his words.

“The feeling is mutual, Boss. Now, get some sleep for you and your bride tonight. We have a lot of partying to do tomorrow.” Jonathan grinned like a Cheshire cat at the thought. He was always one to welcome a party, for any reason or none at all.

"Tha’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” Bill interjected.

Debra gave him an unexpected slap on the arm, accompanied by a firm 'atta-boy' and turned to Ron with the admonition to go home and get some rest.

The ride home was rather quiet for Denise and Ron. Debra volunteered nothing at all and no one asked. They were too drained emotionally to worry about the details right now. A light dinner was consumed and all retired early for the evening.

“Babe, I’m still befuddled about what they’ve done and how they’ve done it, but in some strange way I feel that it really is over now. I’m not sure how I know it, Denise, but I do.”

“No more about that, Ron. Not tonight. Just come to bed and hold me, okay? We can sleep in tomorrow. I’ve taken the day off again. Thank goodness Mr. Jorgenson is so understanding.”

“He’s a good man.”

“You’re a good man, too. Come hold me.” She crawled beneath the sheet and patted his pillow to beckon him in beside her.

That was all he wanted in the world right now. He lay down next to her and kissed her tenderly, running his fingers through her hair and lovingly across her face.

“Ron, I want to melt when you touch me like that.”

“How else would I touch you? You’re my treasure.”

“And you’re my knight.”

He quickly found her head on his shoulder as she nestled into his side and was soon asleep, but Ron lay there awake for a long time, thanking God for such a great blessing as this woman he held next to him. Especially in this time of extreme trial. 'And thank you for such incredible friends as we have. Bless them for all they have done'.

The dream was nearly the same as before. Ron was upon the white sand beach and was standing near the water. Denise stood looking toward him and the ocean. Ted, too, was there again, but with a major difference this time. Ron knew what had happened before—recalled it fully—but this dream was very lucid, as if he had control over it. This time he vowed he would turn the tables on his enemy. As he marched toward Ted with determination in his heart, he found that his foe began to recede and fade further into the distance with each step that Ron advanced upon him. At length Ted was gone altogether and Ron turned about to find his wife at his side, smiling and more beautiful and radiant than ever he had recalled seeing her. Her eyes sparkled like the stars twinkling in the summer night sky and her teeth were as the pearls of the ocean’s depths. Her hair shone with a fire that dazzled and charmed him. There was no other woman in the world for him.

Ron woke slowly and knew that it was a dream, but the emotions had been so real and so strong that he could not resist acting upon them. Reaching across the bed for Denise, he ran his hand down her side from her neck to her knee. His heart was racing and in his throat as she stirred and reached back to touch him. He could not speak to say anything to her, so touched emotionally was he. There were no words that would have sufficed in any event. Denise moved closer and as her lips touched his he knew that they would again be one—in body, soul and purpose.

Chapter 11

The meeting with Baylor Sims was interesting, to say the least. He was a small and unimposing man, about five feet, four inches in height and of stout build. He spoke softly and had a pleasant demeanor, not at all the image of a pit bull as they’d been told. He listened attentively, as though a life depended on it. Many times he asked questions and took notes. His eyes were friendly, but intense in their gaze and giving Denise the feeling they could pierce through steel plate to discover the secrets hidden behind it. Rather than making her uncomfortable, Denise felt more assured than before. She felt in her bones that this was the man to defend them, to attack for them and to win for them.

At one point Sims put his tablet down and suggested, “Why don’t we all take a breather? Would anyone care for some refreshments?” He smiled amiably.

A nod and appreciative thank-you’s urged him to his feet and he went to the next room, to return momentarily with a plate of cookies, some drinking glasses and a pitcher of fruit punch. “Pardon the meager fare. This has been a busy morning and I’ve had no time to shop.”

As they partook of the treats, they engaged in small talk for a short while, but soon enough Sims was again asking pointed and relevant questions regarding the business at hand. He announced at one point, “I’ll take this case, if you’ll have me. What amazes me is that anyone could doubt your innocence with such a preponderance of evidence in your favor. I’ll need to verify it all, of course, but this should be very interesting and a lot of fun if we play it right. A lot may depend on the judge that we get to hear the case, but I have confidence that will be no problem.” He had a hint of impish grin that suggested some childish prank he was about to delight in.

The lovers readily accepted his offer to represent them in court and as the interview was about to end Debra asked abruptly, “May I speak privately with you a moment, Mr. Sims?”

Baylor Sims took it in stride, even looking rather pleased at the thought. “Would you excuse us?” he asked politely and saw Ron and Denise to the adjacent room, inviting them to sit and enjoy his study. He closed the door and left them staring at one another in mute puzzlement.

“Now, Mrs. Payton…what may I do for you?”

“Call me Debra, please.” She smiled and Sims nodded and smiled back happily at the invitation. “You mentioned your concern about getting the right judge. I don’t like to leave anything to chance if I can tilt things more in my favor. I have some information you may find interesting and helpful, as I think you are the kind of man that knows how to use it to its best ends.” She smiled like the cat that ate the canary and Sims couldn’t help but smile at the thought that she might wish to involve him in this intrigue.

“Do tell me more, Debra.”

Debra shared the information she had been harboring and when she had finished, Sims was grinning like a Cheshire cat and fairly laughing with glee. “This is wonderful, Debra. Absolutely wonderful.” He was on his feet with excitement and looked as if he would soon begin to dance a jig around the room as he wrung his hands in delight at the news. Debra began to involuntarily laugh at the antics and thought how he looked so like a leprechaun in his behavior. It was all so delightful.

Several minutes later Sims and Debra fairly exploded through the set of double doors that led to the study, bursting into the room as sunshine into darkness. They were positively exuberant.

Sims told the still bewildered couple, “Now don’t you worry at all. This is in the bag, I assure you. You promise me to get a good night’s sleep and do whatever it is that newlyweds do, alright?” He winked meaningfully and Denise shot Debra a look that could have drawn blood.

Debra let it roll off her back with a ‘don’t look at me’ attitude and grabbed them by the arms to herd them toward the door as though they were children. “Come now, we have a lot to do and so does Mr. Sims.” And that was the end of that. Or was it just the beginning, Denise wondered.

Ron knew that Sims was right. He had been thinking it himself and didn’t know how to broach the subject with all of the stresses and challenges the couple had been wading through. What was needed now was for the newlyweds to start acting like newlyweds again. It might seem forced in their present states of mind, but it was the one remedy that would work completely and not hurt emotionally.

As Ron pulled up to the house and got out to open the doors of the car for the ladies, Debra winked and nodded while mouthing the word ‘bedroom’. Her sly smile was too evident in its meaning for him to mistake and he nodded silently back to her, mouthing the words, ‘Yes, ma’am’ and winking at her in return. She, too, knew what was the prescribed remedy for this illness.

“The door closed behind them and brief pleasantries were exchanged, with Debra excusing herself and apologizing for being so tired and at so early a time of day. “I think I’ll take a nap, if you don’t mind. Perhaps you are as tired as I am. Maybe you should take a nap, too.”

Denise stared suspiciously as her mother turned without further adieu and went to her room in the opposite direction from theirs. When Debra had disappeared, Denise turned to give Ron a look of ‘what was that all about’ and he simply responded, “She’s right. I am a bit tired. Care to join me, Mrs. Jameson?”

The look on his face was subtle, but the intent of the conspirators was now unmistakable to her, too. Denise smiled only half-heartedly, but surrendered to the common sense of the majority, grabbed Ron by the hand and actually led the way to the bedroom, closing the door behind them. “You win. You’ve always been my weakness. You may even be my sanity right now.”

“Maybe a good tranquilizer, too, if we are lucky.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me a bit, Mr. Jameson. So, what does the doctor have in mind for his patient?” She locked eyes with him, a worn look and no hint of a smile, and began to undo the buttons of her blouse.

“Let’s just say that this treatment won’t require you to wear a dressing gown.” He could now see that she was disconnected from this little game.

“Ooooh, doctor, it all sounds so….” She was trying to play along for his sake, but found no words to finish. She was too weary to care. Her heart and mind were not in it.

“Exactly. So….” He held her close to simply comfort her, with no agenda now but to reconnect with her emotionally and for her to get a good night's sleep.

“Administer the procedure when you’re ready. Just be gentle, okay?”

Ron thought, this can wait. Tonight I will just hold her. If anything more takes place, it will only be because she wants to.

Chapter 10

When Denise returned home from work, Barbara and Paul accompanied her. “What a pleasant surprise,” Ron exclaimed. The two of you are off work quite a bit early, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes,” Barbara declared. It’s a bit of a surprise, really.”

“I just said that,” Ron grinned.

“For you, not us…I mean…oh, never mind. We are going to order out for dinner and have our official ‘welcome home’ party for you.”

“Yes,” Paul added. It’s a tad overdue, but nonetheless sincere. A celebration of our friendship and our love for you both.”

“Thank you, both of you. I’m touched by your consideration>”

“Our pleasure, Ron. Where is Debra?”

“Oh, she went to receive a fax. I have no idea when she may return. She said not to hold dinner, though. Maybe she had a hot date and was too shy to mention it?” he suggested.

“Then you don’t know my mother. Her shy? Hah!” Denise laughed.

“Well, a man did come and pick her up….”

“Hmm, curious. But nothing she does should really surprise me much. Don’t worry about her. If you knew her like I do, you’d know she’d be fine. Now, what is everyone in the mood for?” The conversation now veered in a different direction, along with the mood for the evening.

The dinner was superb and the cleanup easy. The conversation and company were excellent, just as the first time Ron had enjoyed their collective presence. Again he felt at home and a sense of peace and tranquility came over him. He was among friends and knew that somehow things would be right again, just as Debra had predicted. This feeling was one he had missing for some time without being consciously aware of it. It had taken the death of one wife and the wedding to a new one to bring him out of his shell. He would always be indebted to Lenore for the things that she had taught him about himself, but he knew, too, that he would be equally indebted to Denise for what she had already and would continue to teach him about the loved ones around him. Ron found himself wishing that Lenore and Denise could have known one another. They would likely have been good friends. He shuddered slightly to think what his life would still be if he had refused the invitation Barbara had offered just a few short weeks ago on his own doorstep. What a gift of love he would have deprived himself of.

While they were in conversation, the door opened and Debra stepped in. Both men stood instinctively as she entered. Whether they knew it consciously or not, she had an air about her that gently commanded their attention and respect-a quiet power they could not precisely measure. As a still, but deep body of water hides it’s depth from view of all but the most discerning, Debra had some obscure and anonymous something that was felt rather than seen openly.

“Well, I know what I said earlier, but I hope you have saved me something. I’m famished.”

“As a matter of fact, there is a plate for you in the fridge. Shall I heat it for you, Mom?”

“No, dear. You stay and enjoy the party. I’ll be back before you can miss me.” She left the room hurriedly and after a bit of rustling in the kitchen, she hurried down the hall to the furthest recesses of the house to make a call in privacy.

In short order Debra returned and ate the dinner that had been heating in the microwave for her and then turned to the front room where all were seated comfortably. As the men again began to rise, she directed them to remain sitting.

“Mom, you’ve been rather a mystery this evening. You don’t let me take time during the day to be with you and you are gone or on the phone nearly every evening. What’s up? And don’t say ‘nothing’.” Denise was genuinely curious, despite her earlier assurance to Ron.

“Darling, I hardly think this is the time or place to discuss the matter.”

“Well, you almost missed out on the get-together tonight and we seldom see you in the day. I just want to know what is so important that it keeps you away so much. You’re not having clandestine meetings with my husband, are you?” She laughed lightly and all chuckled at the thought, Debra included. All except Ron, that is. He gasped audibly and turned pale. Denise and the others stopped laughing as they spied his obvious shock.

“It was just a joke, Ron. Calm down,” Barb countered, but all eyes shot from Ron to Debra, from Debra to Denise and back to Ron again.

As the words began to form on Denise’s lips, Debra broke the spell. “My stars, people! Don’t be ridiculous! You should see yourselves right now. It would be funny if it weren’t so shocking.”

Again all eyes were upon Ron and Denise. None dared speak and again Debra broke the silence. “Oh, for cryin’ out the window, people! There’s not a thing going on between Ron and me. And as for the reason I seem a bit preoccupied--you’ll all know soon enough if it works out the way I hope. If it doesn’t, it won’t matter a feather or a fig, but either way I’ll tell you when the time is right and not before, okay? So, stop letting your imaginations run wild and get a grip! That’s the last I have to say about it. I’m going to bed. Good night, all.” With that, she stood somewhat defiantly, as it were, and started to leave the room, but at the last second turned and added, “Besides, Ron is too young for me” and winked at Denise.

It took a moment for all to recover their wits. Paul spoke first. “Well, folks, I think this had better be a good time to go home.” His discomfort showed visibly.

Ron rose and saw them to the door and thanked them for such a lovely evening with good food and company, but hurried to add, “I’m sorry for the unexpected crescendo to the evening. That was truly bizarre. I assure you that I would never do anything of the kind to Denise-and Debra wouldn’t either.” He looked them sincerely in the eyes and they knew without reservation that he was telling them the truth. “It matters to me that you believe me. I know how much you love Denise and want you to know this isn’t what happened.”

“Okay, Ron. Forget it. No more fretting over it. We believe you. Get some sleep.”

Barb whispered, “You’d better give your wife some attention first, though. I noticed that she hasn’t come to the door and I think she is pretty confused over this.”

“You’re right. I’ll do that. Thanks, Barb. Thank you both for being such good friends.”

“No worries. We love you guys. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see what Debra is cooking up, won’t we?” Paul smiled and called goodbye to Denise.

Barbara prodded firmly, still in hushed tones, “Go take care of her now!” and closed the door between them.

Ron turned to find his wife, but Denise was nowhere to be seen. He found her in the bedroom, crying softly and walked to her and sat on the edge of the bed beside her. He took her hand in his and began slowly, “Babe, you know I would never intentionally hurt you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Ron, I do. It’s okay. It just shook me up for a minute, that’s all. Everything that has been going on lately has taken its toll on my sanity and immunity, I’m afraid.”

“Then you believe me that nothing inappropriate was going on between your mother and me?”

“Of course I believe you. You were always such a gentleman with me, even when you had every opportunity not to be. I’m sorry to have doubted for a second. It was just that you looked as if a truck had just hit you and everyone else was in shock, too. I got sort of wrapped up in the foolishness of the moment. It was the poorly timed circumstances, that’s all.”

He tried to change the subject gently, feeling there was no sense in belaboring it further. “I’ll be stunned when all of our trials are over-- like a fish out of water without the challenges to my sanity.” He said it facetiously, but it caused her to start crying again. The mere thought of it all going on much longer was more than she wanted to bear. She only wanted this protracted hell to go away.

Ron pulled her to his side and held her. They needed to get away again. The problem was that almost anyplace in the vicinity sparked in them memories of a distasteful nature now. Added to this was the waiting for the other shoe to fall, so to speak. Ron had not been held for questioning, but he had also not been cleared totally or told he was free to go where he pleased, when he pleased. He felt as if he were on a tether that he could not see, but which could be pulled at any time by some nameless, faceless authority. He felt like crying quite often, too. Since getting home, they had not made love. It wasn’t planned that way-it just was that way. It was as if an unseen presence haunted them, making them too uncomfortable be themselves. There was a limit to how long any marriage could tolerate such a condition, he knew. The fear was that their limit might be much closer than he suspected.

The letter came with no fanfare, delivered just as any other letter might be, but it was not any ordinary letter. This one carried with it dark clouds that warned of the ferocity of an approaching storm. It was addressed to Mr. And Mrs. Ronald Jameson.

“You are hereby summoned to appear before the District Court of Laine County at 10 A.M. on Friday, the third day of November….” Ron stopped reading and paused only a second before he threw the letter as far as he could. He gritted his teeth and growled in anger that could be expressed in no other way. Raising his hands in impotent frustration and rage, he bellowed, “When will it all be over?”

Denise could only cover her mouth with her hands and stand silently staring at him. Debra was far more direct.

“Don’t you give up yet, Ronald Jameson, do you hear me? There’s more here than meets the eye and you know you’ve done nothing wrong. You know and I know it. More importantly, God knows it and there is such a thing as divine justice, too, I assure you. It would be far better to call a good lawyer than to holler at the walls like this, so I suggest you get to it. If you don’t mind a suggestion, you can call this fellow.” She walked to her purse and produced a card, which she handed to him firmly.

“Baylor Sims? Who is he? I’ve never heard of him. What makes you think he is the right man for the job?”

Denise jumped in. “Mom, you’re not even from here. How could you know who is best to call?”

Unflustered, Debra answered strongly. “My mouth and brain still work, don’t they? While you two were busy feeling sorry for yourselves, I was out talking with anyone and everyone who was able to recommend a good plan of attack for you-I mean, us.”

“Don’t you mean a good defense, Mom?”

“No, babe, your mother is right. The best defense is a good attack, in this case. You saw that with the little insurance Nazi. It also applies here. We need to put them on the defense if we can accomplish it. If they thought the county could be sued with the slightest chance of our winning in higher courts, they may soft-pedal this and want us all to back out gracefully.” He turned attention to Debra again. “Go on.”

“From what I’m told on the street and from several other lawyers, Sims is a real pit bull in these things. And strangely enough, word has it he is reasonably priced. …Seems he went into law years ago because of the way his own parents were treated by the justice system. I don’t know all the details, but he’s fair, he’s honest and he’s affordable-a good combination in my estimation.”

“Okay, Debra, let’s go talk to him.”

“We have an appointment at 2 this afternoon. I thought you’d see it my way,” she grinned.

“Mom, sometimes you are amazing.”

“Just sometimes? I must be losing my touch.” She smiled appreciatively.

Ron was growing in his admiration for this woman. She was somewhat of a pit bull herself and he was glad she was on their side. He now recalled that George Brennan had given him his card and had written his cell number on the back. Maybe it would be a good idea to give him a call and see if he had ever heard of this Sims fellow. Pulling the card from his wallet, he turned it over to read the number and was almost floored when he read the name printed there—Baylor Sims. This was the first time he had looked at the card since he’d gotten it from George. It appeared that their path was blazed rather clearly.

Chapter 9

The day had come for Ron to see the insurance investigators. He and Denise walked in with all of his financial records, income statements, affidavits of his character and every other scrap of evidence in his favor that he could procure.

“Mr. Jameson, I’m Charles Findley. Would you please come with me-alone, if you don’t mind.” He glanced accusingly at Denise as he said this.

“Alone? Why is that?”

“The policy is in your name. Unless, of course, this is your attorney….” He waited for Ron to verify.

“No, this is my wife and she has every reason to be interested and supportive in this matter, wouldn’t you agree?” His manner was firm. It was obvious he was not going to bend.

“Ah…yes, of course. This way, please.” The point had been made and Findley turned to lead them.
Victory number one for our side, Denise thought and she winked covertly at Ron.

After all were seated, Findley immediately began to state his company’s policies and their stand regarding Ron’s situation. The pile of papers in front of him seemed endless and Ron now showed his impatience just as quickly.

“Can we just cut to the chase here, Mr. Findley? You think I burned my own home for the insurance money. It’s quite obvious that you do. I know it and you know now that I know it. The fact is that you are paid to find ways not to pay on policies that your company cheerfully takes money for. I can almost accept that as legitimate. It has its place in cases of fraud, but it is entirely reprehensible and may be fraud itself to take money from honest folks when you know that you have no intent to deliver on your advertised promises. And, if I am not mistaken, I believe there is at least a law regarding truth in advertising, in addition to breach of contract….”

“Mr. Jameson….” Findley attempted to interrupt and again gain the high ground in this battle of wills, but Ron maintained his newfound momentum and pushed forward with a strength born of excess frustration and pent up rage.

“One moment, sir. I might add that the Attorney General could well be interested in the outcome of this little meeting. Now, you have quite a stack of papers there in front of you. You must have before you every aspect of my life. Your resources are probably much better than you’d ever admit. Then it should also follow that you will know that I am not in any dire financial straits--i.e., I am not a gambler, I have not of late contracted any diseases, nor do I have any pressing and expensive medical needs of any kind, etcetera, etcetera and etcetera. You have likely checked my background deeply enough to have seen that I had top-level security clearance in my work for the government, so the moral veracity of my character is above reproach.” Ron now stood and glared down at Findley from his fully erect height. “You could have verified anything that you chose to, but just in case you have missed something, I have a present for you.” He slammed his own pile of papers onto the desk in front of Findley, who involuntarily jumped at the sound. “Add this to your reading. Perhaps there are details your diligent staff of investigators chose to ignore. If you are an honest and a wise man, as I hope you are, you have nothing to fear in this matter, but if you are not, I will go to every legal measure to hold you personally responsible. Do you understand?”

Findley was a seasoned veteran in the insurance business. Still, he was unused to such treatment from those that he was supposed to be intimidating. The whole thing was very unsettling and he tried unsuccessfully to maintain an air of indifference. “Mr. Jameson, there is no need for threats, I assure you.” He was now on his own feet, trying to regain the lost psychological advantage. Before he could do so, Ron took Denise by the arm and left, slamming the door loudly. Findley stood in stunned silence, staring at the now closed door. Much as he wanted the last word, he actually hesitated to follow.

“Bravo!” Denise screamed as they exited onto the street, unable to contain herself any longer. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“That did feel very good.” Ron clenched his fists in a half-raised gesture that signaled his own feeling of invigoration.

“That was an inspiring performance. You’ve won this round, Sir Ronald. Absolutely magnificent.”

He smiled so wide that he feared it would become permanent. “I was inspired, I guess. It felt so good to blow off some steam at the petty little tyrant. I think I scared him, don’t you?”

“Well, he won’t soon forget Ronald Jameson, I can assure you. She laughed aloud as she pictured his face again. Her laughter was like the sweetest music to Ron. It had been far too long since he had seen her really happy and encouraged.

Two more days passed before they were contacted again--by Findley’s assistant.
The irony was not lost on them. They had hoped he would be respectful enough and man enough to contact them himself. Debra leaned in next to the receiver and listened with Ron as best she could.

“Mr. Findley has asked me to contact you, Mr. Jameson, and notify you that a decision has been made in your favor and your policy will pay In full for the loss of you home.”

“Thank you, miss…?”

“Tarkington.”

“Miss Tarkington, would you please pass on a message to Mr. Findley for me? Tell him he is a wise man after all.”

“Sir?”

“He’ll know what it means.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll do that. Have a good day, Mr. Jameson.”

“Thank you--and you, too.”

Mrs. Payton gave Ron a big ‘thumbs up’ and laughed. “So, the old goat decided it would never hold up in court with all the evidence to the contrary. Cheaper to pay you than fight you.” It was not a question, but a statement of fact. “Wise choice, I would say. You’d better tell Denise.”

“Good idea.” He dialed the phone and with a big smile delivered the news. “Another dragon dead, babe. One more to go.” He was settling more comfortably into the role of the defending knight, sensing that he had begun to earn it. He stood taller and took a deep breath, letting it go slowly, releasing tension along with it. The stress was more noted by its absence now. He felt truly relaxed for the first time in days, knowing he had won a major battle.

“Oh, Ron, I’m so proud of you. It gives me hope that life may again be normal for us.”

“It will be. I promise you. It will be.”

“I believe you.”

“Mrs. Payton, what would you like for breakfast?”

“Ron, we have to stop this Mrs. Payton stuff. I’m your age, heavens’ sake! Call me Debra.”

“Okay, Debra it is. The truth is that I was really uncomfortable with that, too. Each time I used it was a reminder that you might object to your daughter marrying someone so much older.”

“Careful, Ron. I’m in that ‘so much older’ category you’re referring to.”

“I guess you are. Does it bother you…her and me, I mean?”

“Ron, what kind of parent would I be if your age was more important than my daughter’s happiness?”

“Yeah, I guess I am being silly. Forgive me.”

“Bacon and eggs.”

“What? I don’t understand.” He looked thoroughly puzzled by such an out of context comment.

“You asked me what I would like for breakfast. I would like bacon and eggs, please.”

Ron chuckled and answered, “I thought for a moment I was losing my sanity. Okay, bacon and eggs it is, then.” He turned toward the kitchen.

“And, Ron…for the record, your age doesn’t bother me at all. I’m a bit jealous, however, that Denise met you before I did…that’s all.” She winked and disappeared down the hall to use the phone, leaving Ron to wonder in confusion if she were flirting with him seriously. His mouth was hanging open and he realized how silly he must look at this moment, even in an empty room. O-o-o-oh, m-y-y-y-y-y, he thought, closing his mouth and shaking his head to remove any further consideration of the incident. Time to focus-cook breakfast, Ron-just cook breakfast.

As Ron was about to call Debra to breakfast, she appeared again in the kitchen. “Looks good and I’m starved.”

Ron knew the statement was innocent, but in his active imagination it was now colored by her earlier comment and he felt nervous once again. Denise had obviously taken her looks from her mother, for Debra was a very attractive woman, to be sure. He reflected that just as he had gotten comfortable with calling her Debra, he might now prefer going back to addressing her as Mrs. Payton. His concerns were short-lived, however.

“Well, let’s get this to the table and eat, shall we?” She easily scooped up much of the morning’s fare and headed for the dining area, quickly distributing things to their proper and logical places. Ron now recalled how Lenore was such a natural in these things and how he’d had to deliberately consider such social graces and still was never certain he’d gotten them right. Since she’d been gone he’d had only himself to set the table for and never concerned himself with the niceties and proprieties of social graces to that extent-that is, until Denise, who had now taken over the responsibilities in that frame. It suddenly occurred to him that he now had two women in his life. Force of habit still strong from all the time he’d spent alone, Ron openly shook his head at the recognition of it, not thinking that Debra might catch the gesture.

“Something wrong, Ron?”

“Hmmm? Oh…no, not really.”

“’Not really’ means ‘partially yes’”.

He looked across the table, surprised by her astute insight. No harm to tell her. “I was just reflecting on how I had been alone for so long and had become rather a recluse and now there are two women in my life.”

“Your first wife and now Denise…” Debra stated matter-of-factly.

Ron registered enough surprise that Debra revised her original appraisal. “Oh…I see. I’m flattered, Ron, but maybe that means that I should be going soon and give you two your privacy back.”

Ron answered quickly, “No, please, Mrs.….Debra…” he corrected. “You’ll always be welcome with us.”

“Just a little while longer, if you don’t mind and then I’ll be returning home. There are a few loose ends I need to tie up first.”

Ron couldn’t help but wonder to what she might be referring. He felt strangely that she knew something more than she was telling-some great secret she held up her sleeve. As he was about to question further, she changed the direction of conversation acutely.

“So, what are your plans for the future, Ron?”

“Uh…Denise and I have been so preoccupied that we have had little time to discuss that. Too busy fighting dragons to have the luxury of knowing what the future holds for us.” There was some hint of anguish to be seen and Debra had developed some skills with her late husband in that regard. Ron was an open book to her-an honest and simple man whose moods were relatively easy to decipher-not buried near as deeply as he would like to believe. Not to the right woman, anyway.

“I know it hurts now, Ron. Believe me. But I also know that the future can’t be bleak forever. Things will get better for the two of you. You’ll see.” The worry on his face dissolved somewhat and he felt surprisingly soothed by her prediction.

“Thank you, Debra. Again, I appreciate your concern and your faith.”

She smiled softly in return and the rest of the meal was spent in benign chitchat and peace.

Before Denise arrived home, the phone rang and to Ron’s surprise, Debra sprang to answer it. Rather than take a message or hand the phone to him, as he would expect, she spoke briefly and in hushed tones, as if to preserve confidentiality with some mysterious stranger on the other end. Stranger and stranger, Ron thought. Debra returned the phone to the hook and turned to face him as he approached inquisitively.

“Who was that?” he asked.

Ignoring his question completely, she asked one in return. “Is there anything I can do for you while I am out? Can I get you anything? I need to go receive a fax.”

“Uh…no, nothing I can think of at the moment, but….”

“Good. Then I’ll be off for a while and will see you this evening. Don’t hold dinner for me, alright?” With that, she grabbed a light coat and headed for the door before he could regroup and formulate any more questions.

Parting the curtains, Ron watched curiously as she stood at the curb, waiting less than one minute before an auto pulled up and a man got out, circled to her side and opened the door for her. He closed the door after seating her and returned to his own place and drove down the street to disappear. Ron could only stand in a confused daze and wonder after her. This woman was becoming more and more of a mystery as time went on.

Chapter 8

Denise called in to beg out of work the next day. She and Ron had worked the plan they had discussed and now were collecting the affidavits they had requested from their friends and associates. The responses had been swift and thorough, all notarized and dated, attesting to the personal character of Denise and Ron and the nature of the events that they had been through so recently. They now made copies for all those that they thought would need them in order to help-a list which had unfortunately grown larger.

The two had decided that the old football adage was true-the best defense is a good offense, so they took the packets and personally hand delivered them to the police, the local insurance representatives, the local courts, the Governor, the Attorney General and the state Insurance Commissioner. It was a long day, but they had accomplished it all and could think of no one else to include.

A sudden knock startled them and Ron jumped from his chair to answer it. A kindly looking older woman about Denise’s height was standing outside.

“Are you Ron?”

Taken somewhat by surprise, he could only stammer, “Ye…yes?”

“Welcome to the family, ‘son’.” She grinned mischievously. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Mrs. Payton! Oh, my…please do come in.”

Denise was just behind Ron and nearly knocked him over as she discovered who was at the door. “Mom! What a surprise!” She hugged her mother so tightly that the poor woman had to beg her to stop.

“Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry. Please come in and sit down. How did you get here? Oh, never mind. I’m just glad you are here.” Mrs. Payton never got the chance to respond, so excited was her daughter. “Let me look at you, Mom. It’s been a year and a half, at least.”

“Two years, almost exactly, but who is counting? And who is this?” She looked at Ron with interest.

“Oh…forgive me, Mom. This is my new husband, Ron.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Payton. Now I see where your daughter gets her beauty.” He took her hand in the same gentle caress that Denise had experienced the first day she had met him.

“Denise, this one is a keeper.” Turning back to Ron, she said, “I can see by the look in your eyes that you love one another, but I also see trouble. Tell me all about it. I thought newlyweds put everything else aside for awhile.”

Denise explained the recent happenings as best she could. “The truth is that we feel so trapped by all of this. We don’t really know for sure what to do. All we can do is wait for the other shoe to drop.”

Mrs. Payton appeared pensive and pursed her lips slightly. “Perhaps…” was all she said. She was looking off into the distance in such a manner that Ron almost turned to follow her gaze. It was so intense that he knew instinctively that she had an incisive mind to match.

Her gaze suddenly fixed on him and the voice was strong and commanding. “You just let me see if I can do something to help. No promises, mind you.” Her manner was assuring in some strange way. Ron liked her immediately. “Okay, enough of that for now. How are the two lovebirds, anyway? What are your plans for when things are right again?”

“Mom, we haven’t been able to see that far ahead yet. There have been too many distractions. It’s all happened so fast, you know?”

“Tell me about yourself, Ron. I want to know all about you.”

“Well, that’s a tall order, but I’ll talk until you signal for surrender, okay?” It brought a laugh and the conversational atmosphere relaxed appreciably. The evening slipped quickly by and only came to an end with a mother’s air of authority as Mrs. Payton stood and announced, “Well, I’d better be going and you two had better get to bed. Wouldn’t do to miss your beauty sleep now, would it, Denise?”

“Mom, where are you going? You can’t go home tonight. It’s too far.”

“I have a hotel room, dear. You need your privacy.”

“Nonsense! You are staying here tonight. Tell her, Ron.”

“Absolutely, Mrs. Payton. We have plenty of room for you.”

“Really? I suppose you’ll sleep on the couch?” Her sarcasm was evident.

“Mom, we have a guest room, okay?”

“But I’ve already reserved a room. I won’t lose my money for no reason, do you hear? My bags are there already, so I have to stay there.”

“But, Mom…”

“And I won’t lose an argument, either. Understand?” There was a sense of finality in her statement and they correctly determined that meant it was the end of the conversation. “Good, now call me a cab and then get some sleep. I’ll be fine.”

The call was made and with an accompanying shooing motion, Mrs. Payton sent the lovers off to bed and took her post at the window to wait for her cab.

“She really is a stubborn old goat at times,” Denise stated out of earshot range.

“I’m going to tell her you said that.”

“Hush up and get to bed, mister!” She grinned and acted as if she would elbow him again as he slipped quickly out of reach.

“Like mother, like daughter.” He smiled and complied as she wagged a warning finger at him and turned off the lights.

“Out of your clothes--now!” she commanded.

“I will, if you will.”

“Done!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another day was played by ear, as there had been no concrete plans arranged the night before. As Ron drove his wife to work, Denise called the hotel and arranged to send Ron to pick up her mother around noon. “I’ll work until then and you can swing by and get me, too, okay?”

“Fine, honey.” He knew he would be alone to think. He needed to find a solution.

Before Ron could pick up Mrs. Payton, the news came to him that the insurance company had set a date to see the Jameson’s about the circumstances of the fire--one week away. One week until the axe falls.

Ron made small talk as he rode with Mrs. Payton, but she surprised him suddenly. “Relax, Ron.”

“Mrs. Payton?”

“Oh, I can see it in your face. I’m not that easy to fool, you know. I’ve seen that same look on my late husband’s face. You talk because you feel obligated to do so, but inside you want to be alone and silent, right?”

“Yes, That’s it exactly. I feel helpless to do anything constructive. I could fight against a man. How do you fight doubt, fear and unfair accusation?”

She studied him for a long moment as he drove. “You are a strong man, Ronald Jameson. You’ll survive the loss of all but my daughter.”

“I hope that’s not a prediction. I couldn’t bear that, I know.”

“No, no,” she laughed. “Only an expression of trust, that’s all.”

“I hope I can live up to it, then.”

“You will, Ron. You will.”

“Here we are.” He pulled into the parking area beside the building where Denise worked. As he put the gear lever in park, he turned to Mrs. Payton and said quietly, “Thanks for believing in me. It helps.”

“I’m not the only one, Ron. You have many friends, from what I have heard.” She smiled confidently and he gathered courage from her words and faith.

Ron entered the building to fetch Denise and be on their way, but not before thanking her employer for being so understanding and flexible during all the confusion that was taking place in their lives.

“She’s a valuable employee and a good friend. I welcome the chance to help. By the way, here’s my statement as to her character, her work record and the extraordinary circumstances of late. I hope it helps you.”

“I’m certain it won’t hurt. That is about all I can be certain of these days.”

“Thanks for all you do.” Denise hugged her boss sincerely and with a tear in her eye, separated to leave. There were still many good men left in the world and the one bad apple that she had so recently known would not spoil the rest of them for her.

“I’m impressed by him.”

“Yes, as both a boss and a friend, Mr. Jorgenson has been a real peach,” Denise replied, her eyes moist with gratitude.

Chapter 7

The evening was splendid and more than made up for the drudgery of the day. Before the movie, Ron stopped to get a corsage for his new bride-a single red rose in fern leaves and surrounded by Baby’s Breath.

“Ron, isn’t this a bit over the top for a movie?”

“I want you to be the most loved woman there. You will be anyway, but now you’ll feel like it, as well.” His eyes spoke total adoration as he took her arm in his.

“Thank you. You really are the sweetest man ever.”

As she stroked his cheek, he took her hand and pressed it to his lips softly. “We’d better go if we want to get good seats. He enfolded her in his arm, escorting her to the car and holding the door for her. This would be a special night by any means he could employ.

The movie was nothing outstanding, but the two lovers were just pleased to have some quiet time together and without any undue stresses to burden them for the evening. They knew the next few days would again be mundane-acquiring the goods to make them both comfortable in Denise’s apartment-now their apartment. How quickly things change. Denise had never expected to be sharing the place with anyone, let alone a new husband, when she had rented it so recently. Yet, here she was-married and happily making room in her life, her closet and her bed for the man of her dreams. The presence of a man would bring inevitable changes to her life and dwelling that she welcomed openly. Her surroundings would reflect his influence soon enough. She smiled as she nearly floated about the rooms, anxiously engaged in organizing and grooming the place to make room for him. This was her dream come true. At least it should have been.

A few days later, Denise came home from work to find a message on the answering machine. Ron was out doing some incidental shopping and she had no way of knowing if he had heard the message yet, but she knew that if he had, he would not be happy.

The gist of the message was that the insurance company had some concerns regarding circumstances surrounding the fire that had destroyed his home and would he please contact them as soon as possible. It was more feeling than anything, but Denise suspected that this was to be more bad news. It would be verified sooner than she cared to know. When Ron arrived home and heard the message, she could read the anguish in his expression. She held her peace until he got off the phone.

Hesitating for a few seconds to gather his thoughts and words, she could see that he was also attempting to cast off his anger before speaking. “Lovely. Just lovely. They didn’t say it in so many words, but I believe they suspect me of burning down the house for the insurance money.”

Denise nearly went white as a sheet as the blood drained from her face. She took a seat quickly for fear she would fall if her knees were to buckle. Was it possible that Ron would end up in jail no matter what was to happen? Was it just his fate? She shook her head and kept saying, “No…no…no….” Her face was buried in her hands and she appeared close to total withdrawal again. Would this sequence of events never end? This was a living hell and it appeared no end was in sight.

Ron sat down heavily beside her and put his arms around her. “Denise, I’m sorry. It may have been better if you’d never met me.”

She whirled about with the force of the words. He had just struck her verbally. There was no carefulness or gentle consideration in her response. “Listen, you! The only one I wish I’d never met is Ted. He was bad luck from day one and he is bad luck after he is dead. You got that?” Her stare was intense enough to burn holes.

“Yes, of course I understand,” he answered demurely. His hurt and surprise could not be hidden.

Denise softened considerably at the look of shock that registered on his face. “You sure know how to break up a crab-in, Ronald Jameson.” Her head was soon buried in his shoulder and he held her close as she sobbed quietly.

“Am I ever glad to hear that.” He still had a bit of the whipped puppy look, but was recovering quickly. “I’m sorry, Denise. You’ve been absolutely wonderful through all of this. I don’t know how you do it. You’re so much stronger than you know.”

“Strong? If only you knew. There are so many times I want to break something or hit someone. If screaming would help, that would be my hobby by now. You have no idea how weak I feel. It’s like fighting a ghost. I can’t confront him-he’s dead! And if it isn’t him, it’s something else. I can’t give up either, or he wins…they win…whatever-I lose if I quit. If all of this succeeds in breaking us up, then Ted wins, even in death.”

“Oh, Denise, this is so weird. If I had been told six weeks ago that I would be battling a dead man, I would have said the bearer of that message needed professional help. Now, I’m awfully close to needing it myself. I have to laugh to keep from crying.”

All they could do was hold one another and hope for a comfort that never came.